#i also have to read some of the fics here too | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fangdokja · 1 day ago

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Yoo, can I ask a question? - yandere (of course) tartaglia, wanderer (or scaramouche) and kazuha, with a reader who has.. a slightly interesting temper, that is, the reader has an unconventional, sarcastic, extremely cynical sense of humor) humor is the reader's protective reflex, maybe.. The reader is constantly trying to turn everything into humor,often makes sarcastic little comments even if at the wrong moment.. (but reader still manages to make people laugh) Maybe this is a bit of a strange request, but why not? (I just often see how in yandere fics the reader is assigned almost the same behavior, I would like to read something new, and besides, you are one of my favorite yandere writers!) I hope my request complied with your rules, because there are SO MANY OF THEM.. I don't even remember some of them lol.. I'll be glad if you accept my request! thank you 💋

Too many thoughts, not enough brain cells. Let’s see what happens.

❤︎ Synopsis. A chaotic whirlwind of sarcasm and unfiltered humor, you—channeling the energy of Gojo Satoru—navigates life like it's a comedy show. Nothing is too serious, and everything’s an opportunity for a joke—even when the world’s falling apart.

♡ Book. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Genshin Impact Males (Tartaglia, Wanderer, Kazuha) x Fem. Gojo (?)! Reader (separate?)

♡ Headcanon. Humor First, Consequences Later - Part 1

♡ Word Count. 12,339

♡ TW. dom + top + older yandere, general non-con + manipulation, angst + tragedy, sexual themes

♡ Note. Due to Tumblr policy, all characters are all of age.

♡ A/N #1. This turned out longer than it was supposed to be......... but it was necessary for the build-up. So waha. And, this definitely has a different formatting and plot development style from all my other works (especially formatting), but that was done on purpose. And, yes, I'm putting this story in WITD, despite it's length, because of the formatting. Well, either way, hope you all enjoy :))

♡ A/N #2. Thank you for the support and reading so far, I appreciate it and also for taking the time to read the RULES. But, I have to inform you all on some important rules especially. As mentioned in my rules, requesters aren’t allowed to assign behavior towards the reader. For only MY works particularly, I agree that most of the behavior of reader is generally the same. Why? Well, simple, I hardly encounter self inserts with apathetic, actually not emotional readers. I lack book food. There are SO MANY emotional readers inserts. And even sarcastic sassy ones. I have no food. So I cooked my own food instead. I’ve read so many over the years, that honestly? The ones close to my personality are ALWAYS original novels with male characters. Literally Fang Yuan from Reverend Insanity cooks hardest, and even then there was that stupid part in almost Chapter 3k mark that I hated. Because they added emotions and shiz. And here I thought I found a true villain character. Small rant. But even then only he cooks really, both intelligence wise and even personality wise. No one has even beaten Fang Yuan in terms of strategy and intelligence from books that I haven’t created.

♡ A/N #3. I get it. Females are emotionally built, even biologically. But, I’m not overly emotional. I can act it, but feeling it? No. I can create other personality readers. I’ve literally written a lot of OC’s from thinkers to feelers so I can. But. Guys. I also self-insert myself in these stories whahaha. It’s not exactly my personality, but it’s still part of me. However, I’ll make an exception this time since I just released a new book, “Whispers In The Dark” for short stories. Since I’m actually a person who dislikes reading self inserts with mean readers of any kinds. This does not sound humble at all, but I’m not a mean person at all if it comes to commentary. I just keep to myself or keep my mouth shut. And I also HATE reading main characters with tempers. Probably because, I have a very mellow personality in reality. And emotions? Hardly feel anything tbh.

♡ A/N #4. Anyways so I won’t get mad when writing this, here’s basically a Gojo inspired Reader. Most ENTP’s (especially 8w7 and 7w8) are relatable to me, and I relate to Gojo a lot. Never simped, but I relate. But, next time, to anyone. I will NEVER be writing content that assigns a personality to reader. It’s one of the few things I have freedom in to just enjoy writing. I would honestly just get really irritated if I had to follow a set personality to reader. Yeah, I may write consistently the same reader, but that like genuinely makes me happy to write a reader that I can finally relate to. I hardly find stories like that. Much more in reader inserts. I hope you all understand. Kind of pathetic to say “I just wanna have fun”. But, it’s true and foundational to me. I have a difficult time writing if I’m not having fun.

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia (Childe) who first noticed you in the midst of a chaotic battlefield, blades clashing and blood splattering in all directions. He was there for his own mission, but your laughter—loud, sardonic, and downright inappropriate—caught his attention.

You’d just disarmed one of his men with a sarcastic comment and a flashy spin move, only to remark, “Well, that’s one way to make him stop talking.” Tartaglia’s first thought was: This one gets it.

The two of you had crossed paths before, but this was different. You fought with a ferocity he hadn’t seen in a long time, and the fact that you seemed entirely unfazed by the danger surrounding you only intrigued him further.

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia who you clashed blades with in the middle of a chaotic battlefield. The air was thick with violence and the sound of metal, but there you were, laughing through the chaos.

"Well, this is fun! Is this your idea of a date, or should I try harder?" you joked, dodging his ruthless strikes with a grin that could only be described as wicked. Tartaglia couldn’t stop himself from grinning back, impressed by your chaotic energy and your apparent lack of fear.

"You're bold, I'll give you that," he quipped, flipping his spear expertly. "But I gotta ask—are you always this insufferable, or am I just lucky?"

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia who first noticed you during a chaotic battlefield where chaos was your language, and you spoke it fluently. You both crashed into each other mid-fight, swords clashing in a brutal rhythm, but the moment his eyes locked with yours—amidst the blood, the screams, and the madness—he felt a jolt of recognition.

Not of fear, no, but of pure chaotic understanding. "Well, well, well, looks like you're not just another pretty face—you're a disaster in the best way possible."

You didn't miss a beat, "Flattery will get you nowhere, buddy. But I’ll take it. You really should work on your aim though."

Despite being enemies in that instant, he couldn’t help but enjoy the way you threw yourself into battle—your sarcasm as sharp as your blade. Every strike was a witty remark wrapped in bloodshed. You were an unfiltered storm of energy, and he couldn’t help but think, “This is the kind of chaos I want in my life.”

After the battle, despite the blood and sweat, you both shared a laugh as if you had just finished a light sparring session, not a life-or-death duel.

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia who being the chaotic soul he was, immediately clicked with you, and your shared irreverence made it impossible for him to hate you, even if you were technically enemies.

Tartaglia spoke with a handsome boyish grin, "I’m gonna need a drink after that, how about you?"

"Nah, you’ll need a bottle, pal. But we both know you’re a lightweight."

"You wound me."

———

♡ Yandere! Wanderer (Scaramouche) who hated you immediately. The moment he met you, you gave him the most obnoxious smirk and made some comment about how “intense” he looked, like a lost kitten trying to be menacing. You couldn't help it—his dramatic aura was begging for a punchline.

“Oh, look. A robot with an existential crisis. What’s next, a lecture on how you’re misunderstood by the world?” The sheer audacity of your sarcasm sent a shockwave through him, one that made him freeze for a split second.

“I’d ask you to smile, but I’m pretty sure that would crack your face,” you quipped, and the cold, calculating expression he wore only made it worse. He stared at you with thinly veiled contempt, his distaste for your flippant attitude and sarcasm immediate.

♡ Yandere! Wanderer who hated you even more when you opened your mouth. During a tense moment of political intrigue, Wanderer was deep in a conversation with some high-ranking officials, trying to manipulate them for his own advantage, when you interrupted with a perfectly timed comment.

"Wow, these people talk more than my grandmother at Christmas dinner. Do they even hear themselves?"

The room went dead silent. Wanderer’s eyes narrowed as he turned to look at you, trying to figure out who this... jester was. Your irreverent attitude was a sharp contrast to his own cold, calculating nature.

"Are you always this... unbearable?" he asked, his voice laced with disdain.

"Well, only when I’m surrounded by such charming people like you," you replied, not a hint of fear in your voice.

♡ Yandere! Wanderer who didn’t know how to handle your complete lack of respect. He saw you as an irritating fly—one he couldn’t just swat away because of your sharp tongue and unpredictable nature. But that didn’t stop the twisted curiosity that started to bloom in him. Maybe he hated you, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy watching you twist every interaction into a dark comedy sketch.

“Do you always treat people like this?” he sneered, but you only shrugged.

“Nah, just you,” you replied with a wink, “but don’t feel too special. I hate everyone equally.”

———

♡ Yandere! Kazuha who, unlike the others, didn’t immediately form an opinion about you. You met him on a peaceful evening, sitting by the fire as you shared a drink.

"Nice music, but tell me—do you ever sing songs about decapitations or revenge? You know, the classics," you asked, leaning against a tree with a mischievous grin. Kazuha blinked, momentarily thrown off balance by your unexpected question.

He chuckled, albeit nervously. "Ah, well, I do tend to favor more peaceful melodies. The world has enough violence, don’t you think?"

You shrugged dramatically. "Sure, but I think it’s just a matter of perspective. You’ve never heard a good ‘revenge ballad,’ have you? Something with blood, guts, and a sweet vengeance story?"

♡ Yandere! Kazuha who was calm, collected, and in no hurry to make judgments about people.

"You’ve got a sharp tongue," Kazuha remarked with a soft laugh, sensing the tension you carried beneath your humor.

"Sharp enough to cut through all the nonsense in the world," you replied with a smirk. "It’s a survival tactic, you know? Get too serious, and people start thinking you’re a threat."

Kazuha chuckled, but there was a quiet understanding in his eyes. Unlike Wanderer, who despised your sarcasm, Kazuha found a strange comfort in it.

♡ Yandere! Kazuha who spent hours talking with you—half serious, half joking—and by the end of the night, you couldn’t quite tell if Kazuha had warmed to you or simply found your humor amusing. He was neutral, calm, but there was something about your cynicism that tugged at his heart. Not in a romantic way—more like a curiosity about the darkness behind your jokes.

Despite everything, Kazuha found himself oddly protective of you, even if you were too much of a loose cannon for his liking.

"You really know how to push people’s buttons," Kazuha mused with a faint smile, sipping his drink.

"It's a gift," you replied with a grin, letting the conversation fade into the night.

♡ Yandere! Kazuha who didn't dislike you. It was more that he didn’t quite understand you. He found your humor bizarre—borderline morbid, really—but at the same time, it made him appreciate the way you could maintain your composure in the face of things that would send anyone else into a frenzy. He didn’t want to admit it, but there was something magnetic about your wit, your sharp tongue, and the way you saw the world.

────────────

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia who couldn’t get you out of his head after that battlefield encounter.

At first, it was your audacity that stood out—who cracks jokes while fighting for their life? But as you two clashed more often, he found himself genuinely entertained by your wit. Each fight became less about winning and more about trading barbs.

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia purposefully pick fights with you just to hear your comebacks. One time, mid-battle, you yelled, “You gonna twirl that spear all day, or are we actually fighting?” He almost dropped it because he was laughing so hard.

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia who invites you for drinks post-battle as if you’re not enemies. “Come on, you’ve earned it,” he’d say with a grin. “I’ll even let you pick the bar. But if you poison my drink, we’re gonna have a problem.”

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia becomes your unofficial sparring partner. The battles become a game of who can outwit the other with sarcastic comments.

“You call that a strike? My kid brother could hit harder,” you’d say, dodging his attack.

“Oh yeah?” he’d reply, smirking.

“Maybe I’ll let him fight you next time.”

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia when he eventually starts treating you like one of his comrades. He shares stories about his family, asks about your past (you deflect with humor), and even brings you snacks during downtime. “You fight better when you’re not hangry,” he claims.

———

♡ Yandere! Wanderer despises your existence but can’t seem to avoid you. Every time he’s working on some secretive plan, you pop up with a sarcastic comment.

“Wow, plotting world domination again? Don’t forget the evil laugh—it really sells it.”

♡ Yandere! Wanderer tries to ignore you, but your presence grates on his nerves. “Do you ever shut up?” he snaps one day, glaring at you.

“Not if I can help it,” you reply with a smirk. “What’s the point of silence when your misery is so much fun?”

♡ Yandere! Wanderer reluctantly teams up with you during a mission. It’s strictly business, but you make it nearly impossible for him to stay professional.

“You know,” you say, “if you smiled more, people might actually like you.” He glares, but the faintest twitch of amusement betrays him.

♡ Yandere! Wanderer when for the first time he lets his guard down, it’s accidental. After a long, grueling day, you find him staring at the stars.

“So, what’s the brooding about tonight?” you ask, sitting beside him. He doesn’t answer immediately, but eventually, he mutters, “Nothing you’d understand.”

“Try me,” you challenge, and for once, he indulges you.

♡ Yandere! Wanderer begrudgingly respects your intelligence. Despite your flippant attitude, you have a knack for solving problems in ways he wouldn’t consider. He won’t admit it, but he’s impressed.

“You’re not as useless as you look,” he says one day.

“Thanks, I’ll embroider that on a pillow,” you reply.

♡ Yandere! Wanderer when your sarcasm starts to grow on him.

When someone else insults him, you’re the first to step in with a cutting remark. “Hey, I’m the only one allowed to call him insufferable, okay?”

———

♡ Yandere! Kazuha meets you on a quiet evening, and your energy is a stark contrast to his calm demeanor.

“Do you ever stop being so mellow?” you ask after he recites a haiku. “What’s life without a little chaos?”

He smiles faintly and replies, “Perhaps you bring enough for both of us.”

Traveling with Kazuha feels like a comedy routine. You constantly try to bait him into arguing, but he just humors you.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you enjoy this,” you tease.

“Perhaps I do,” he replies, eyes twinkling.

♡ Yandere! Kazuha is the only one who sees the cracks in your humor.

Late one night, you sit by the fire, unusually quiet. “Even storms have calm moments,” he says softly, offering you a drink.

“Don’t get used to it,” you reply, smirking, but there’s gratitude in your eyes.

Your dark humor doesn’t faze him; if anything, he finds it endearing. When you jokingly suggest writing a song about a gruesome battle, he actually considers it.

“A ballad of bloodshed and bravery?” he muses. “Sounds poetic.”

♡ Yandere! Kazuha subtly encourages you to open up. He never pries, but his quiet patience makes it easier for you to let your guard down.

“You’re oddly calming, you know that?” you admit one day. “Like a weirdly wise fortune cookie.”

He laughs and says, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

♡ Yandere! Kazuha, despite his gentle nature, doesn’t hesitate to protect you. When a fight breaks out during your travels, he steps in without hesitation.

“Don’t worry,” he says, drawing his blade. “You’re not facing this alone.”

────────────

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia who realizes he’s falling for you during one of your sparring sessions. You’d taken a hit—nothing serious—but enough for him to notice. After the match, he grabbed your arm, inspecting the wound with an uncharacteristically serious expression.

“Relax, Childe, it’s just a scratch,” you said, smirking through the wince.

“Stop joking for one second,” he replied, a little sharper than usual. As he wrapped the bandage around your arm, his hands were surprisingly gentle.

You tried to lighten the mood. “What, worried you’d have to explain this to my ghost?”

He didn’t laugh this time. “No, I just—” He stopped himself, his usual cocky grin faltering.

“You’re reckless, you know that? I can’t always be around to patch you up.”

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia who finds himself watching you more carefully after that, his playful facade slipping every time you brush off an injury or laugh in the face of danger. It’s in those moments he realizes your humor hides something deeper—a pain he’s desperate to understand.

When you finally catch him staring, you raise an eyebrow. “What’s with the puppy-dog eyes? You’re not getting sentimental on me, are you?”

His grin returns, but there’s a softness behind it. “Maybe I just like looking at you.”

For once, your usual quip dies on your lips, and the silence between you is louder than the battlefield.

———

♡ Yandere! Wanderer who starts noticing your distant stares during quiet moments. He catches you gazing into the horizon, your usual smirk replaced by an uncharacteristically serious expression.

“What’s wrong? Forgot your punchline?” he asks, his tone biting but not cruel.

“Just thinking,” you reply, your voice softer than he’s used to.

“That’s new,” he mutters, sitting beside you. When you don’t snap back with a retort, he frowns. “What’s going on with you?”

You shrug, deflecting with humor. “Guess I’m out of jokes for the day. Mark your calendar—it’s a historic moment.”

But he doesn’t let it go. “You can’t fool me with that act. Whatever it is, you don’t have to carry it alone.”

♡ Yandere! Wanderer who doesn’t push you to open up but finds himself frustrated by your reluctance to trust him. He hates that you make him care this much, but the thought of you being hurt—physically or emotionally—makes his chest tighten.

When you finally let out a small, dry laugh and say, “You really don’t know when to quit, huh?” he feels an odd sense of victory.

“Someone has to keep you in line,” he replies, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

———

♡ Yandere! Kazuha who finds you one evening, hunched over a journal he gifted you long ago. You’re scribbling furiously, completely absorbed, and he can’t help but smile softly at the sight.

“You’re quite the writer,” he comments, startling you.

“Geez, give a person a warning next time,” you grumble, closing the journal instinctively.

Kazuha tilts his head, amused. “What are you hiding in there? Plans for world domination?”

You smirk. “Nah, just embarrassing poetry about how much I love chaos.”

But when he gently reaches for the journal, you hesitate before handing it over. Inside, he finds sketches of places you’ve traveled together, snippets of conversations, and little notes about your adventures.

“You kept all of this?” he asks, his voice quieter now.

“Yeah, well, don’t get a big head about it,” you reply, trying to downplay the sentiment.

♡ Yandere! Kazuha who notices the way your humor becomes softer, almost shy, when you talk about the memories you’ve shared. It’s in those moments he realizes how much you’ve let him into your life—even if you don’t fully trust him yet.

“You’re more sentimental than you let on,” he says with a gentle smile.

“Don’t spread that around,” you reply, but there’s a flicker of vulnerability in your eyes that he treasures.

────────────

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia who catches you off guard one evening after a particularly intense sparring session. You’re both sitting on the ground, exhausted but grinning. He hands you a flask of water, and as you take it, your fingers brush.

“Careful, Childe,” you tease. “I might think you’re getting soft on me.”

He chuckles, but his eyes are serious. “Maybe I am. Around you, anyway.”

You pause, your usual smirk faltering as you look at him. “Don’t joke about that,” you say, your tone unusually soft.

“I’m not joking,” he replies, his voice steady. “You’re more than just a good fight to me. I care about you.”

For once, you don’t deflect. Instead, you lean back, staring up at the stars, and mutter, “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

But the way your lips twitch into a small, genuine smile doesn’t escape his notice.

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia, as he’s walking you back to your camp, and you stop abruptly. “Hey, Childe?”

“Yeah?”

You turn to face him, your grin replaced by something softer, almost vulnerable. “Thanks. For putting up with me.”

The warmth in your eyes is something he’s never seen before, and for the first time, you seem completely unguarded. Before you can say anything else, he cups your face with his hand, his thumb brushing your cheek.

“You’re worth it,” he murmurs, leaning in slightly. And when you don’t pull away, he closes the distance, his kiss surprisingly tender.

———

♡ Yandere! Wanderer who finds you sitting alone under a tree, the sun setting behind you. There’s an unusual stillness in your demeanor, and he approaches cautiously.

“What’s with the brooding hero act?” he asks, sitting down beside you.

You snort. “Maybe I just like the dramatic lighting.”

But he notices the way your fingers fidget with the hem of your sleeve, a telltale sign of your unease. “You’re terrible at lying,” he mutters.

“Only to people who can’t take a joke,” you quip, but your usual bravado lacks its usual spark.

♡ Yandere! Wanderer who doesn’t say anything, just sits beside you until the silence becomes comfortable. Eventually, you speak again. “Do you ever feel like… no matter what you do, you’re just waiting for the other shoe to drop?”

The question surprises him, and for a moment, he doesn’t know how to respond. “All the time,” he admits, his voice quieter than usual.

You glance at him, your eyes searching his for something you can’t quite name. Then, with a small sigh, you rest your head on his shoulder. “Guess that makes two of us.”

♡ Yandere! Wanderer when the gesture catches him completely off guard, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he shifts slightly to make you more comfortable, his hand twitching at his side as though debating whether to touch you.

“You’re warm,” you murmur, your voice tinged with amusement.

“And you’re annoying,” he replies, but there’s no bite in his tone.

For the first time, there’s a genuine warmth in your smile, and he can’t help but feel like he’s finally starting to understand you.

———

♡ Yandere! Kazuha who notices the change in you during a quiet evening by the campfire. You’re holding the journal he gave you, flipping through its pages with a soft expression.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks, his voice low and gentle.

You glance up, startled, and then shrug. “Just… how far we’ve come, I guess.”

♡ Yandere! Kazuha who smiles, sitting beside you. “It’s been quite the journey, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you reply, your voice unusually quiet. Then, after a pause, you add, “You’ve been… really patient with me. I don’t think I ever said thanks.”

“You don’t need to,” he replies, his eyes searching yours.

“No, I do,” you insist, looking at him with an intensity that takes him by surprise. “I’m not… easy to deal with. But you stayed anyway. That means something.”

♡ Yandere! Kazuha when the vulnerability in your tone is something he’s never heard before, and he feels his chest tighten.

Without thinking, he reaches for your hand, his fingers brushing against yours. “You mean more to me than you realize,” he says softly.

You stare at him for a long moment before lacing your fingers with his. “Maybe I’m starting to get that,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

For the first time, your smile is free of sarcasm or deflection. It’s warm, genuine, and utterly disarming.

“I’ll take that as a victory,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

“Don’t get used to it,” you tease, but there’s no bite in your words.

♡ Yandere! Kazuha, when the firelight dances in your eyes, and he looks at you, he knows he’d follow you anywhere.

────────────

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia who surprises you one evening with a quiet dinner set up near a cliff overlooking the ocean. When you see the setup, complete with lanterns and freshly caught seafood, you raise an eyebrow.

“This is new,” you say, smirking. “What’s the occasion? Did someone die?”

He laughs, shaking his head. “Can’t I just do something nice for you?”

“You? Nice?” you tease, plopping down onto the blanket. “You’re setting a dangerous precedent, Childe.”

As the evening wears on, the atmosphere becomes more intimate. The way he looks at you, with a rare softness in his expression, makes your usual bravado falter.

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia, at one point, he leans closer, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

You snort, your cheeks warming. “You need to work on your pickup lines.”

But when he cups your face and kisses you, slow and deliberate, your witty comeback dies on your lips. His touch is both tender and possessive, a silent reminder that he’s already decided you’re his.

———

♡ Yandere! Wanderer drags you out of bed one morning, much to your annoyance. “I promise, if this isn’t life-threatening, I’m going back to sleep,” you grumble, rubbing your eyes.

He rolls his eyes but doesn’t let go of your wrist. “Just shut up and follow me.”

♡ Yandere! Wanderer where he leads you to a secluded hilltop just as the sun begins to rise. The view is breathtaking, but you’re still half-asleep and unimpressed.

“You woke me up for this?” you ask, stifling a yawn.

“Ungrateful as always,” he mutters, crossing his arms. “I thought you’d appreciate the effort.”

Despite your sarcasm, you sit down beside him, the warmth of his shoulder brushing against yours. After a moment, you glance at him and say, “Thanks. For this, I mean.”

♡ Yandere! Wanderer smirks, but there’s a faint blush on his cheeks. “Don’t get used to it.”

Later, when you’re lying back in the grass, the silence between you is surprisingly comfortable. He leans over, his fingers brushing against your jaw as he tilts your face toward his.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he murmurs, his lips hovering just above yours.

“Good,” you reply, grinning. And then he closes the distance, his kiss as intense and consuming as his feelings for you.

———

♡ Yandere! Kazuha invites you on a late-night stroll, the two of you wandering through a quiet forest illuminated by moonlight. He stops at a clearing where fireflies dance in the air, their glow reflecting in his crimson eyes.

“You sure know how to set a mood,” you say, half-joking.

He chuckles, stepping closer. “It’s not the fireflies setting the mood.”

You raise an eyebrow, your trademark smirk in place. “Kazuha, are you flirting with me?”

“Maybe,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

♡ Yandere! Kazuha, when he takes your hand and pulls you closer, the teasing remark you were about to make dies in your throat. His hands rest on your waist, his touch featherlight yet grounding.

“You’re the most captivating person I’ve ever met,” he says, his voice filled with sincerity.

For once, you’re at a loss for words. Instead of replying, you pull him down into a kiss, slow and deep, the world around you fading away.

────────────

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia when It’s been a year since he first confessed, and while you’ve spent most of it poking fun at his intensity, tonight feels… different. He’s pacing around your shared campsite after a mission, looking oddly nervous.

“Spit it out already,” you say, lounging on a log and stretching like you don’t have a care in the world. “You’re giving me secondhand anxiety.”

He stops, runs a hand through his hair, and takes a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking… maybe it’s time we made this official.”

You blink, sitting up. “Official?”

“You know,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “Us. Together. Permanently.”

“Oh, that kind of official,” you reply, your smirk widening. “You really know how to charm a person, Ajax.”

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia, before he can get defensive, you saunter over, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Relax,” you murmur, your voice dropping an octave. “I’d be stupid to say no, wouldn’t I?”

The relief in his eyes is quickly replaced by something darker, more possessive. “You really mean that?”

Your grin is wicked. “Why don’t you make me prove it?”

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia who doesn’t need to be told twice. Before you know it, you’re backed against a tree, his hands roaming your body with an urgency that sends shivers down your spine.

“You’re mine now,” he growls against your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. “Completely, utterly mine.”

“Bold of you to assume I wasn’t already,” you quip, though your voice trembles as his hands slip under your shirt.

His laugh is low, almost dangerous. “Oh, I’m going to make sure there’s no doubt left.”

The next thing you know, you’re stripped bare, pinned between him and the rough bark of the tree. His mouth is everywhere—your neck, your collarbone, the curve of your hip—leaving marks that scream possession.

“You look so perfect like this,” he mutters, his voice thick with need. “Completely at my mercy.”

“Is that what we’re calling it?” you manage to say, though the tremor in your voice betrays your bravado.

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia when he finally slides into you, slow and deliberate, your sharp intake of breath is all the encouragement he needs. His pace is relentless, each thrust driving you closer to the edge as he whispers possessive promises against your skin.

“You’re mine,” he repeats, over and over, his grip on your hips bruising. “No one else will ever have you.”

And as your nails rake down his back, pulling him impossibly closer, you realize you wouldn’t have it any other way.

———

♡ Yandere! Wanderer, when It’s late, and you’re lying together in his makeshift tent. The air between you feels heavy, charged with something unsaid. Finally, he sighs and sits up.

“You know,” he says, his tone uncharacteristically soft, “it’s been a year.”

You hum, not bothering to open your eyes. “And?”

“And I think… maybe it’s time we stop pretending this is casual,” he says, his voice tinged with vulnerability.

Your eyes snap open, and you prop yourself up on your elbows. “Wanderer, are you seriously confessing again?”

He glares, but there’s no real bite to it. “I’m being serious.”

“So am I,” you reply, sitting up fully. “I didn’t think you were the type to get sentimental.”

“Only for you,” he mutters, his cheeks flushing.

You laugh, leaning in to kiss him. “Fine, fine. I’ll stop teasing—for tonight.”

♡ Yandere! Wanderer when he pulls you onto his lap, his hands gripping your waist as his lips crash against yours. There’s nothing gentle about the way he kisses you—it’s desperate, hungry, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

“You’re infuriating,” he growls, his hands sliding under your shirt to explore your bare skin.

“Good,” you breathe, grinding against him. “Wouldn’t want to make things too easy for you.”

His response is a low groan as he flips you onto your back, his body pressing you into the soft fabric of the bedroll. His eyes are dark, his expression utterly unguarded as he looks down at you.

“You’re not getting away tonight,” he murmurs, his voice low and dangerous.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” you reply, smirking.

♡ Yandere! Wanderer when he enters you, it’s with a roughness that steals your breath, his movements erratic as he chases both your pleasure and his. His hands pin your wrists above your head, his lips tracing a heated path down your neck.

“You belong to me,” he whispers, his voice trembling with intensity. “No one else.”

And as your moans fill the air, his grip on you tightening, you realize there’s no point in denying it.

———

♡ Yandere! Kazuha, where he's sitting beside you by the fire, the two of you wrapped in a comfortable silence. Kazuha leans toward you, his gaze soft yet intense.

“You’ve stayed with me for a year,” he says quietly. “I never thought I’d be lucky enough to have someone like you by my side.”

You roll your eyes, though your smile is genuine. “Are you trying to propose or something?”

His expression doesn’t change. “Maybe I am.”

The teasing remark dies on your lips as he reaches for your hand, his touch featherlight. “I want this. Us. Forever.”

You stare at him for a moment before breaking into a grin. “Well, I’m not exactly in the habit of saying no to you, am I?”

♡ Yandere! Kazuha who kisses you then, slow and deliberate, his hands cradling your face like you’re something precious.

When he lays you down by the fire, his movements are unhurried, each touch a silent declaration of his devotion. His hands roam your body, mapping every curve as his lips press heated kisses along your skin.

“You’re everything to me,” he whispers, his voice trembling with emotion.

“Show me,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

And he does.

♡ Yandere! Kazuha when he finally joins with you, it’s slow, almost reverent, his movements guided by the need to make you feel every ounce of his love. His hands never leave your body, his lips pressing soft kisses against your neck, your shoulder, your lips.

“I love you,” he murmurs, his voice raw with sincerity.

And as the firelight dances across your intertwined bodies, you realize you’ve never felt more adored—or more his.

────────────

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia, as he stands on the edge of the cliff, overlooking the vast expanse of the ocean, his mind races. He’s been with you for over a year, and it’s been nothing short of perfect, even if you’re still your usual teasing self. But he knows, deep down, that he can’t wait any longer. He’s made up his mind.

Marry me, he thinks, the words swirling in his mind. It’s not a question, not really. It’s an inevitable conclusion. You’re his. You’ll always be his. The only thing left is to make sure you understand that—completely.

“You’d be the perfect wife,” he mutters to himself, a small smile tugging at his lips. He envisions you, sitting next to him by the fire, laughing, living, thriving beside him. He imagines it all, and it feels… right. It’s what he deserves.

But the question is: How?

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia, as his eyes scan the horizon, searching for inspiration. The right setting, he thinks. It has to be memorable. Something personal, something only the two of you can share. Not just some grand spectacle that’ll make you feel overwhelmed—something that’ll make you want to say yes without hesitation.

Or maybe I should take you by surprise, he contemplates, a mischievous glint flashing in his eyes. A more intimate, private moment. No distractions. Just the two of you, alone, with nothing but his love wrapping around you.

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia, where his mind races through countless scenarios—by the water, under the moonlight, with nothing but the sound of the waves crashing at your feet. Or maybe in the heat of the moment, when you’re both caught up in your passion, when the connection between you two is raw and undeniable.

But one thing is clear: Tartaglia knows you’ll say yes. You’ll have to. You’re already his.

He just has to make sure you see it, too. That you realize how deep his love goes. That you understand the intensity of what he’s offering. This isn’t just a ring. It’s a lifetime of devotion and passion.

After a long silence, his eyes harden with resolve. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make you mine forever.”

The plan is set. Now all he has to do is wait for the right moment to make you his wife.

———

♡ Yandere! Wanderer, where two months have passed since that night in the tent, and Wanderer can’t stop thinking about how perfect it is between you two. It’s a strange thing, this feeling in his chest that grows stronger with each passing day.

You’re mine, he thinks, but now, it’s not enough to just claim you. He wants more. He wants you by his side forever. He wants you to carry his name, to have no other but him in your life.

There’s something about you, the way you challenge him, the way you fight him. It stirs something inside him, something primal, something that says, this is the person you’ve been waiting for.

“Marriage,” he mutters to himself. The thought comes to him like a sudden revelation, like the answer to a question he didn’t know he was asking. He doesn’t even blink. It just feels right.

But how? How can he make sure you understand that this isn’t just a casual decision? That he’s serious?

♡ Yandere! Wanderer rolls over in bed, staring at the ceiling. A ring? A symbol of ownership, of course. Something that marks you as his. But how does he make it clear to you that he wants this—wants you—forever?

His thoughts are a whirlwind. He knows that he can’t just come out and ask you. Not like that. You’re too clever, too observant for something so simple. No, he’ll have to make it special.

Perhaps somewhere secluded, just the two of you, far from anyone who could interrupt. He’ll show you his commitment, and then, in the silence of your shared space, he’ll make his declaration. A vow, a promise.

The problem is, he doesn’t trust himself not to just take you right then and there. The idea of you in a white dress, standing beside him, gives him a rush of desire so intense it nearly overwhelms him. But he knows that’s not what he wants.

♡ Yandere! Wanderer wants you to want this, too. Not out of obligation, but because you feel it, because you understand the gravity of what he’s offering.

But how can he make you feel that way? How can he show you that, even though he’s never been one for sentimentality, with you… he’s willing to change?

Wanderer sits up, his eyes narrowed as he thinks it over. He’ll need to be patient, let the moment come naturally, and then when it does…

He’ll claim you forever.

———

♡ Yandere! Kazuha, where it's been two months after that night by the fire, his feelings for you have only deepened. He’s spent hours thinking about how to make the moment special, wondering how best to express his love. The idea of forever with you fills him with a warmth he can’t quite put into words.

You’ve been his muse for so long, and now, he wants to make you his in the most meaningful way he can think of.

The problem is… he’s never been good at this. How does one ask for someone’s hand in marriage without sounding cliché or desperate? How can he ask you to be with him forever when everything about him feels so transient?

♡ Yandere! Kazuha watches the wind rustle through the trees, lost in thought. The answer isn’t obvious, but it’s there, in the quiet moments he shares with you. He needs it to be personal, a reflection of the time you’ve spent together, of the bond you’ve created.

A small, intimate setting—a secluded beach at sunset, perhaps. The two of you alone, just like the first night you truly opened up to each other. He’ll ask you when the moment feels right, when the connection between you is so palpable it fills the air.

A simple question, but with everything he is.

♡ Yandere! Kazuha chuckles to himself softly. It doesn’t need to be grand. What matters is that you’ll be his, and he’ll be yours, forever.

────────────

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia when the world slows, and his heart stops for just a moment, realizing that the blow meant for him has fallen upon you instead. You stand between him and the Abyss, your eyes wide in pain as the deadly weapon pierces your body. His breath catches in his throat.

"No..." he whispers, his voice broken as he crawls toward you, blood seeping from your wound.

Your lips curve into a sad, knowing smile, but it’s sharp. "Go," you command, every ounce of strength focused on keeping him safe, even as the life begins to drain from you. "Get out of here. I’ll hold them off. You have to survive. It’s not your time yet."

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia where his entire world crumbles. He can’t think. He can’t breathe. "I won’t leave you," he growls, trying to rise, but the weight of his own failure pulls him back down.

"You will," you say, your voice steady, but you can feel the darkness creeping in. "You will, Ajax. I love you... I always have." Your eyes lock, your gaze filled with such quiet resolve that it nearly breaks him. "I’m yours... but you have to keep fighting... For us."

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia before he can protest, before he can beg, you make your move. With every ounce of your strength, you grab the closest enemy and pull them down with you into the depths of the Abyss, dragging their weapons into the chasm alongside you. You force them all to fall, ensuring they can’t escape with you, ensuring that Tartaglia gets the chance to survive.

"Go!" you scream one last time. "Now!"

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia, with every fiber of his being, refuses. His body trembles, his heart splintering into pieces as he watches you disappear into the darkness. He screams your name, his voice thick with despair and rage.

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia, when you’re gone, when you’ve been consumed by the Abyss and he’s left behind, alone with the silence, he’s never felt more hollow. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since you vanished—days, weeks, or mere minutes. Time has no meaning when you’ve lost the only thing that has ever mattered to you.

But he will find you.

His eyes darken with madness as he stands, his entire body burning with fury. He will never stop searching for you. You think you can escape him? He will tear apart the world, the Abyss, and everything between him and you. If it takes years, if it takes an eternity, he will find you.

The ring in his pocket feels like a weight he can’t carry without you, but he will find a way to make the promise real. The promise he made to you. To love you, forever.

He stands, his fists clenched. The hunt begins.

———

♡ Yandere! Wanderer, as his eyes narrow. "Stay close," he commands. The two of you fight side by side, effortlessly synchronizing your movements as you’ve done countless times before. You’re unstoppable—until today.

Suddenly, the world tilts. A strange force pulls at the very air around you. The weapons they wield are like nothing you’ve seen before. A barrage of magical projectiles rains down from every direction, each one more powerful than the last, each one seemingly tailored to exploit your weaknesses.

You’re fast, but not fast enough. Your energy wanes. Wanderer's face flickers with concern as he fights to protect you, but the odds are overwhelming. Then, one of them moves too quickly, too precisely. They strike at Wanderer with a vicious blow that sends him flying back. His body crashes to the ground, and you’re the first to rush to him to take the killing blow.

♡ Yandere! Wanderer, where you’ve fallen, your body slipping into the darkness to protect him—Wanderer watches in disbelief, his heart pounding in his chest as you’re consumed by the Abyss. His voice is raw, lost. “No… no, this can’t be happening.”

He rushes toward you, but the wave of enemies, their weapons tearing at the air, blocks him. His hands are shaking as he tries to reach you, but the moment is slipping away, too fast, too cruel. His mind is screaming for him to do something, anything, but the power of the Abyss pulls you further from him.

As the last of the darkness claims you, you look back. Your eyes are filled with pain, but also love, and the last words you whisper are enough to break him.

"Live, Wanderer," you say. "Live for us…"

♡ Yandere! Wanderer where his knees buckle, his world imploding in on itself as he screams your name. There’s no escaping the agony that claws at his heart. His mind turns dark, fueled by rage and desperation. How dare they? How dare they take you from him?

He grits his teeth, his hands shaking as he rises to his feet. “I’ll kill them all,” he growls, his voice hoarse with rage. “You won’t be forgotten. I swear on everything… I will make them pay.”

♡ Yandere! Wanderer stands, a man possessed, and the hunt for vengeance begins.

———

♡ Yandere! Kazuha, where, just as he’s about to finally put his plans into motion, to ask you the question that’s been burning in his mind for months, everything shatters. The campfire crackles behind him as he watches you, your eyes catching the last light of the setting sun. He’s so sure, so certain. The ring hidden in his pocket, the words ready to spill from his lips—but then the ground shakes.

A flash of darkness tears through the sky, and Kazuha's instincts scream that something’s wrong. He turns to find you, standing beside him, your hand brushing against his as if fate has already decided. But the moment is shattered, ripped away by the sound of swords clashing, the sudden pressure of cold, calculated death.

A figure in the shadows, their weapon gleaming with deadly precision, lunges at Kazuha. A dozen more emerge, surrounding you both, their weapons crackling with malicious energy. Their presence feels wrong. Their faces are hidden behind cold metal masks, and their movements are unnatural, almost mechanical.

Everything goes wrong too fast, too quickly. You don't hesitate to protect him with your very life, shielding him from a fatal blow, from an injury that could've killed him.

♡ Yandere! Kazuha, where the moment he sees you fall—your body consumed by the Abyss—he’s frozen, unable to move. He’s never felt fear like this before, the way it twists his insides, cold and sharp. You, the one who’s been his light in the darkness, the one who’s made him believe in something worth fighting for, are now gone.

His eyes are wide as he reaches for you, his heart breaking in his chest. “No… No, this can’t be real. You… you promised…”

But the Abyss has claimed you, and he’s left standing in the dark, the world crumbling around him. His hands tremble as he drops to his knees, his voice barely a whisper.

“I’ll find you,” he vows. “I swear I will. I will bring you back. I will make them pay for this.”

♡ Yandere! Kazuha stands, a storm brewing within him, his resolve hardening into something unbreakable. He will find you. And when he does, there will be no place that will ever be able to hide you from him again.

The hunt has begun.

────────────

The world feels like it’s crumbling around him. His heart pounds in his chest, and his hands tremble as he moves through the shadows, eyes searching desperately for any trace of you. He’s been hunting for days—no, weeks—losing himself in the search for the only person who’s ever truly mattered to him. The Abyss took you. They took his light, his love.

He’s driven, possessed by the desire to find you, to bring you back to him, to make everything right again. No obstacle is too great. No danger too perilous. Every step, every breath, every heartbeat is a reminder that he’ll stop at nothing to have you back.

And then, there he is. The Abyss Prince.

His blood runs cold, as he sees Aether standing there, his icy gaze locked onto the battlefield. And in the distance, he sees you—slumped, bloodied, barely conscious. His heart skips a beat.

“No,” He growls, his voice low and dangerous. His every instinct screams to run to you, to hold you, to protect you, but there’s a force that stops him. Something deeper, darker, something unnatural. He knows who’s responsible. It’s him. The Abyss Prince.

His hands curl into fists. His fury surges, but before he can make a move, a chilling, unbearable presence stops him. The world seems to slow.

Suddenly, a blade pierces his chest from behind.

He gasps, his breath catching in his throat as pain explodes through him. His hands shake as he tries to reach for the hilt, but his vision blurs. He looks over his shoulder and sees a familiar face—a face he never thought he’d see in this moment.

It’s you.

A mad gleam in your eyes, a cruel twist to your lips. Your posture, your expression, everything about you has changed. You’re no longer the playful, teasing soul he once knew. You’re cold, calculating, your emotions absent, as though the person he fell in love with is gone. All that remains is someone dangerous.

His heart shatters. His voice trembles as he gasps, “No… No, you—”

But before he can finish, the Abyss Prince steps forward, his cold gaze locking onto him. “You’re not allowed to kill him,” Aether says softly, the command in his voice undeniable. “Not yet.”

────────────

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia, where his confusion swirls into a storm. He stumbles back, watching as you step away from him, the blade still lodged in his chest, before the Abyss Prince gestures for something to happen. You don’t just leave him wounded—you restrain him, binding him with chains, powerful and unyielding, until he can’t move, can’t even see. His head is tilted back, his vision completely restrained completely by the thick, suffocating darkness of the chains.

He struggles, his breaths shallow, his heart racing. He can feel the cold weight of his situation—the desperation, the helplessness that’s taken root inside him.

“You…” Tartaglia’s voice is raw with fury, with disbelief, and with pain. “What did you do to her? What have you done to my wife?”

But you say nothing. You only scoff, as though the situation is beneath you, as though the man you once knew no longer matters. There’s no playfulness, no warmth, just a chilling, vacant emptiness where your love once was.

Tartaglia’s mind races. This can’t be happening. His wife—his wife—has been manipulated. He knows it. This is all the Abyss’ doing. You’re not like this. They’ve broken you, twisted you, made you into something else. They’ve taken you from him.

His frustration boils over, but he’s helpless. “I’ll kill him,” he growls through clenched teeth. “I’ll kill the Abyss Prince for what he’s done to you.”

But even as the words leave his mouth, he can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong—everything is wrong. He can’t focus. His mind is too clouded, too confused. All he wants is you back. And he’ll stop at nothing to have you again. Even if it means destroying everything in his path.

———

♡ Yandere! Wanderer, where the madness is overwhelming. It’s all so much—the pain, the frustration, the confusion—as he watches you in front of him, cold and emotionless, blade in hand, ready to kill. His thoughts spiral in a frenzy. This can’t be real. He refuses to believe it. You… you’re supposed to be his. You’re supposed to be with him. Yet here you are, ready to snuff his life out.

The Abyss did this to you, he knows it. They’ve taken his love and turned her into something else—something cruel, something empty. Something unrecognizable.

His hand shakes as he tries to reach for you, but the chains binding him keep him stuck. His vision is obscured. Every move he tries to make is futile, a cruel reminder of how powerless he is in this moment.

“Why?” he chokes, his voice thick with emotion. “Why are you doing this? I know they’ve manipulated you. I know you’re not like this.”

But you don’t speak. You just look at him, your eyes cold, devoid of any warmth. He can’t reach you, can’t get through to you.

The Abyss Prince stands by, silent, his eyes as cold as ice. He’s watching this—he’s letting this happen. The rage within Wanderer swells to a point where he can hardly breathe.

“No,” he snarls, pulling against the chains. “I will kill you. You will answer for this.”

But you just smile at him, that same cold, emotionless smile. And all Wanderer can do is watch as his love slips further from his grasp, bound by the chains of the Abyss.

———

♡ Yandere! Kazuha, where the world shatters around him as he watches you fall, as he watches you change into something that he no longer recognizes. The blade that once threatened his enemies is now raised to him, your eyes cold, indifferent to the pain he’s in. He’s unable to stop you, even as he feels the weight of the chains binding him, constricting him. You’re too far gone.

“Kazuha…” you murmur, but the words don’t feel right. They sound empty, distant. His heart cracks as he watches you, the woman he loves, standing before him, her emotions stripped away. You are a stranger now.

He gasps, trying to break free, trying to make sense of the situation. “What happened to you?” he whispers hoarsely. “Please, just… just come back. This isn’t you. This isn’t who I fell in love with.”

But you don’t answer. You only watch him, the gleam in your eyes nothing like the playful light he once knew. It’s cold, calculating, and it freezes him to his core.

And then Aether steps forward, his voice a soft command that stills Kazuha’s frantic mind. “You’re not allowed to kill him, not yet,” Aether reminds once more, his presence suffocating.

Kazuha’s breath catches, and his thoughts spin wildly. This can’t be real. You—you—you’ve been twisted. But Aether has the control here. The chains bind Kazuha tighter, his vision clouded by darkness, and all he can do is sit in silence, trapped, powerless.

“Why?” Kazuha chokes, frustration and fear flooding him. “Why are you doing this?”

Still, you don’t answer. You only step back, leaving him to face the Abyss alone, the chains around him tightening with every heartbeat.

────────────

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia — The Fool's Heart

The battlefield is chaos, Tartaglia’s vision locked onto you. Aether stands at your side, the Abyss Prince exuding an otherworldly menace. Yet, Tartaglia doesn’t care. He’ll cut through anything and anyone to save you, his beloved, from the darkness that has ensnared you.

“Let her go!” Tartaglia snarls, voice cracking with desperation. His body screams from the injuries sustained in his relentless pursuit, but his heart burns hotter. His eyes flick to you—the source of his pain and salvation. “You don’t belong here! Come back to me!”

For a moment, his words seem to falter against your icy gaze. He knows you hear him, knows that somewhere in your heart, the person he loves still exists. But instead of the warmth he longs for, a cruel, mocking smile spreads across your lips.

“Come back?” you repeat, your tone dripping with false innocence. “Oh, Tartaglia, you poor, stupid fool.”

His breath hitches, confusion flashing across his face. Aether glances at you, silent but visibly amused, as though he’s watching a particularly entertaining performance. You turn to the Abyss Prince, patting his shoulder with an air of camaraderie that shatters Tartaglia’s world.

“He’s SO dumb,” you say with a cackle, tilting your head back to laugh. “Did he really think he was that special? That I cared? Oh, this is too good.”

Tartaglia stumbles back as if struck. “What… what are you saying?” he whispers, voice trembling.

“Everything, from the very beginning…” you start, pacing in front of him like a predator toying with its prey. “The teasing, the affection, the nights we spent together, the ‘sacrifices’ I made to protect you. All of it. A lie.”

He shakes his head violently, refusing to believe it. “No! You… you almost died for me! You saved me!”

You roll your eyes, brandishing the very blade you once used to fight by his side. “Please, Childe. That was just part of the plan. You were so much fun to manipulate, though. I’ll give you credit for that. Getting through your walls wasn’t easy.”

Tartaglia’s hands clench into trembling fists. His heart feels as if it’s being ripped apart. “You’re lying. This isn’t you. This is the Abyss! They’ve done something to you!”

“Oh, darling,” you croon, stepping closer to him. Your blade tilts his chin up, forcing him to look into your eyes. “I’ve always been like this. You were just too blind to see it.”

Aether’s voice cuts through the tension. “Enough.” The Prince’s command is calm, almost bored. “He’s served his purpose.”

You sigh, turning back to Aether. “Fine, fine. But can we please kill him now? This melodrama is getting tedious.”

Tartaglia’s vision blurs as the weight of betrayal crashes over him. He can’t reconcile the love he felt with the monster before him. Even as his body fails, his heart stubbornly clings to the hope that this is some cruel illusion.

———

♡ Yandere! Wanderer — Shackles of Betrayal

Wanderer’s indigo eyes are wide with disbelief, fixed on you as you stand beside Aether. The Abyss Prince’s presence is oppressive, but it’s your cold smirk that steals the breath from his lungs.

“Why are you doing this?” Wanderer’s voice cracks, his usual sharp wit replaced by a trembling vulnerability. “I trusted you. I… loved you.”

You tilt your head, feigning surprise. “Loved me? That’s sweet. But did you really think someone like me could love someone like you?”

The words hit him like a blow, but you’re not finished. You twirl a dagger in your hand, your movements lazy and confident. “Let me guess. You thought we were kindred spirits, two broken souls finding solace in each other? How… adorable.”

Wanderer’s rage flares, his chains rattling as he strains against them. “You liar! I’ll kill him! I’ll kill the Abyss Prince and get you back, no matter what it takes!”

Aether chuckles softly, and you laugh along with him, the sound grating against Wanderer’s raw nerves. “Kill him?” you echo. “Oh, darling, you couldn’t even touch him. And you think I want to be ‘saved’ by you? Don’t make me laugh.”

Wanderer freezes, the weight of your words sinking in. He studies your face, searching for any trace of the person he thought he knew, but all he finds is a stranger wearing your skin.

“Why?” he whispers, his voice barely audible. “Why would you do this?”

You shrug, tossing the dagger into the air and catching it effortlessly. “Because it’s fun. And because Aether needed a little help with a certain someone.” Your gaze sharpens, and for a moment, Wanderer sees the madness in your eyes. “You were just a pawn, dear. A very entertaining pawn, but a pawn nonetheless.”

———

♡ Yandere! Kazuha — The Storm’s Deceit

Kazuha kneels, his hands bound by unyielding chains, his soft crimson eyes filled with betrayal as he looks up at you. The gentle breeze that usually follows him is eerily still, as though the world itself mourns his heartbreak.

“I don’t understand,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. “How could you… why would you do this?”

You sigh, as if exasperated by his naivety. “Oh, Kazuha. Always so poetic, so trusting. It’s almost endearing how much faith you put in people. Almost.”

He flinches at the derision in your tone. “You saved me. You risked your life for me. Was all of that a lie?”

You kneel before him, cupping his face with a mocking tenderness. “Not all of it,” you admit. “Some of it was necessary. After all, how else was I supposed to gain your trust?”

Kazuha’s breath hitches, his heart shattering into pieces he can hardly comprehend. “You used me,” he says, more to himself than to you. “You’ve been using me this whole time.”

“Bingo!” you chirp, pulling back and spinning on your heel. “Took you long enough to figure it out. Honestly, I was starting to think you’d never catch on.”

Aether steps forward, his presence a cold shadow that looms over Kazuha. “Are we done here?” he asks, his tone bored.

You glance at him with a pout. “Almost. Just let me have this moment. Watching him break is the best part.”

Kazuha’s head hangs low, his spirit crushed beneath the weight of your betrayal. Yet, even as despair overtakes him, a small ember of hope remains. He vows, silently and fiercely, to free you from the Abyss’ clutches—no matter what it takes.

You, however, have other plans. As you turn away, a cruel smile graces your lips. The game has only just begun, and you’re already thinking of your next move.

────────────

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia — The Fool's Heart

The battlefield reeks of blood and fire, the aftermath of Tartaglia’s relentless pursuit of you. His breaths come ragged, his body battered, yet his gaze remains locked on you. Aether stands beside you, radiating the chilling authority of the Abyss Prince.

“You think this is over?” Tartaglia spits, his voice raw with determination. “I’ll tear apart this entire Abyss if I have to—just to bring you back.”

You laugh—a sound that is anything but warm. It’s a sharp, maniacal cackle, filled with scornful glee. “Back? To what, exactly? Your pathetic little life of lies and delusions?”

He flinches, but you’re already closing the distance between you. Your hand shoots out, grabbing him by the throat and lifting him off the ground with unnatural strength. His vision swims, yet he refuses to look away from you.

“You’re nothing without me,” you hiss, your grip tightening as his struggles grow weaker. “Do you honestly believe your love could save anyone, Childe? That I needed saving? How quaint.”

He gurgles something incoherent, but you only tighten your hold, leaning in close enough for him to feel your breath against his ear. “The only thing you’re good for is bleeding. Look at you, all this power, all this loyalty, and for what? For me to spit in your face?”

You release him suddenly, letting him collapse in a heap at your feet. He clutches at his throat, gasping for air, but you’re not done. Your boot presses against his chest, pinning him down.

“Don’t look so shocked,” you sneer, tilting your head like a predator savoring the kill. “Did you think I was some damsel in need of rescuing? No, darling. I’m the monster your nightmares warned you about.”

Tartaglia’s eyes blaze with despair and determination as he chokes out, “I’ll… I’ll kill him… take you back…”

Your laughter erupts again, wild and unhinged. “Kill him? Oh, sweetheart, you can’t even stand. You’re nothing but a pitiful fool—a fool who thought love could conquer someone like me.”

———

♡ Yandere! Wanderer — Shackles of Betrayal

Wanderer thrashes against the chains binding him, his indigo eyes burning with fury and disbelief. His usual sharp tongue fails him as he stares at you, standing beside Aether, a wicked grin plastered across your face.

“You’re insane,” Wanderer growls, venom dripping from every word. “Let me go, and I’ll make you regret this.”

You clap your hands mockingly, the sound echoing in the cavernous Abyss chamber. “Regret? Oh, sweetheart, regret is for people who make mistakes. I’m having too much fun watching you squirm.”

He lunges against the chains, his strength formidable but useless against the Abyssal restraints. “You lied to me!” he snarls. “Everything—you lied about everything!”

“Of course I did,” you say with a sing-song lilt, stepping closer. Your hands trail lazily over his face, your nails scraping just enough to hurt. “Did you really think someone like me could ever care about someone like you? A discarded puppet, a useless little doll?”

His expression twists with rage, but the vulnerability behind it is unmistakable. “You’re wrong,” he bites out. “You cared. I saw it. I felt it.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” you coo mockingly, before your voice drops, sharp as a blade. “Feel this.”

Your knee slams into his gut, forcing a pained gasp from his lips. You grab his hair, yanking his head back so he’s forced to look at you. “I never cared about you. You were just a stepping stone, a toy for me to break when I got bored. And guess what? I’m bored now.”

Aether chuckles behind you, his voice cold and amused. “You’re cruel,” he observes.

You flash him a wicked grin. “Why, thank you, my prince. I do aim to please.”

Wanderer’s voice is hoarse, filled with hatred and anguish. “I’ll kill him. I’ll kill you. You’ll regret this.”

Your laughter is pure insanity, ringing out like a bell of doom. “Try, little puppet. Try and fail, again and again. It’s the only thing you’re good for.”

———

♡ Yandere! Kazuha — The Storm’s Deceit

Kazuha kneels in chains, his crimson eyes filled with sorrow as he gazes up at you. The stillness of the air is suffocating, the calm before a storm that will never come.

“You…” he begins, his voice a broken whisper. “You were my compass. My home. How could you betray me like this?”

You crouch in front of him, your eyes alight with malevolent joy. “Betray you?” you echo, your tone mockingly sweet. “Oh, Kazuha, don’t flatter yourself. You were never that important to me.”

His breath hitches, but you don’t stop. You lean in, your lips brushing his ear as you murmur, “You were just a convenient tool, a way to pass the time. A pretty little plaything for me to use and discard.”

Kazuha flinches as if struck, his spirit cracking under the weight of your words. “You don’t mean that,” he says, but the tremor in his voice betrays his doubt.

You laugh, the sound a haunting melody of madness. “Oh, but I do. Every word. And do you know the best part? Watching you break, piece by piece.”

Your hand grips his chin, forcing him to meet your gaze. “You thought you could save me, didn’t you? That your love could heal whatever darkness you saw in me. How utterly pathetic.”

He trembles under your touch, his chains rattling as his hands ball into fists. “I’ll find a way,” he vows, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll free you from this darkness.”

You burst into laughter, throwing your head back in pure delight. “Free me? Oh, Kazuha, I am the darkness. There’s nothing to free me from.”

Aether steps forward, his presence a cold shadow beside you. “He’s done,” the Abyss Prince says. “Let him wallow in his failure.”

You stand, casting one last mocking glance at Kazuha. “Goodbye, my little storm. Try not to drown in your tears.”

As you walk away, Kazuha’s head hangs low, his heart shattered—but the fire of his resolve burns on.

────────────

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia — The Fool's Heart

The kiss you share with Aether is cruelly deliberate, a deep, searing display of mockery meant for the man crumpled at your feet. Tartaglia’s battered body trembles, his fists digging into the scorched ground as he watches, his chest heaving with a suffocating cocktail of pain and rage.

“Don’t look away,” you taunt, your lips still wet with the evidence of your betrayal. “This is the truth, Childe. This is all you ever were to me—something to laugh at.”

Aether scoffs, shoving you away, irritation flashing in his Abyssal gaze. But you only laugh, twirling back to face Tartaglia, your grin stretching wider as your gaze locks with his. Gone is the warmth he clung to, the person he thought he loved. In its place is a madness so stark, so twisted, it shatters whatever hope remained in his heart.

The realization crashes into him like a tidal wave—you never cared for him. Not once. Not even in the smallest, fleeting moment. His breath hitches, a dry, humorless laugh escaping his lips.

“I see it now,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse but laced with a dangerous calm. “You don’t deserve kindness. And I’ve been far too kind to you.”

Your grin falters, if only for a second, as he rises to his knees, his gaze blazing with something new—something unhinged.

“It’s too late to turn back,” he says, his tone eerily even. “I don’t need your love, or your lies, anymore. You’ll be mine, no matter what I have to destroy to make it happen.”

As Abyss subordinates drag him away, his eyes never leave yours, his smirk dark and foreboding. “Run, hide, laugh while you can. I’ll be coming for you. And when I do, you’ll regret every breath you ever stole from me.”

———

♡ Yandere! Wanderer — Shackles of Betrayal

Your lips crash against Aether’s, an act of derision that sends a violent shudder through Wanderer’s restrained form. His chains rattle as his whole body tenses, the burning in his eyes consuming what little humanity he’d clung to.

“You’re a fool,” you whisper against Aether’s lips before pulling away, your laughter slicing through the silence. The Abyss Prince wipes his mouth with a look of disdain, but your amusement only grows. You whirl around to face Wanderer, your grin a feral slash across your face.

“You never saw it, did you?” you sneer, your voice dripping with venom. “All that time, all those stolen moments—and you never noticed the madness in my eyes. You’re not a victim, Wanderer. You’re just another broken thing for me to play with.”

For a moment, he’s silent. Then, the corners of his lips twitch upward, forming a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Is that so?” he murmurs, his tone soft yet laced with something chilling. “You think this is over, don’t you?”

You tilt your head, intrigued by the shift in his demeanor.

“Go ahead,” he continues, his voice gaining strength. “Laugh, mock me, pretend you’ve won. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

The Abyss soldiers begin to drag him away, but his eyes stay fixed on yours, unyielding and terrifying.

“You’ve taken everything from me,” he says, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. “So now, I’ll do the same to you. Love? Hate? It doesn’t matter anymore. I’ll strip you bare, piece by piece, until there’s nothing left but me.”

And as he’s pulled into the shadows, his final words echo like a curse: “You’ll never escape me, not even in death.”

———

♡ Yandere! Kazuha — The Storm’s Deceit

Your kiss with Aether is theatrical, exaggerated, designed to carve deeper into Kazuha’s shattered heart. The Abyss Prince shoves you away, muttering something under his breath, but you laugh, spinning to meet Kazuha’s gaze.

“Did you think you were special?” you ask, your voice lilting with mockery. “That your poetry and promises could bind me to you? Oh, Kazuha, you were always chasing a storm you could never tame.”

Kazuha doesn’t respond, his crimson eyes fixed on yours with a quiet intensity. But the light in them has changed, twisted into something unrecognizable.

“You’ve lost,” you declare, turning away, but his voice stops you cold.

“Not yet,” he murmurs, his tone so calm it sends a chill down your spine.

You glance back, and the sight of him—the once-gentle warrior now smirking with a darkness that rivals your own—sends your pulse skittering.

“You think you’ve won,” he continues, his voice soft but deadly. “But this isn’t the end. It’s only the beginning.”

The Abyss guards move to haul him away, yet he doesn’t resist. His gaze remains locked on you, his smile growing as he speaks his final words.

“I’ll break you,” he says, his voice like a whispered promise carried on the wind. “Not with anger, not with hatred—but with love twisted into something you can’t escape. And when you’re mine, when you’re begging for the freedom you so carelessly destroyed, I’ll remind you of this moment. I’ll remind you who truly holds the chains.”

And as the shadows swallow him, his presence lingers, a storm on the horizon waiting to strike.

────────────

If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows. Thank you.

General TAG LIST of “Whispers In The Dark”: @keisocool , @elvabeth , @elloredef

❤︎ Fang Dokja's Books.

♡ Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology ♡ Book 2. 🔞Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires. ♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World. ♡ Book 4. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.

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twddixonn · 3 days ago

Text

Good Boy

Daryl Dixon x Reader one shot

Warnings/Tags: not proof read!!!, sfw, some swears, shane.

this is my first fic on this account, my first time attempting to write a fic in 4-ish years and my first time trying to write a twd fic. honestly it’s probably not great but I hope it’s at least somewhat decent. :-)

(also written and posted mobile so not sure how it will appear on browser, hopefully not too terrible!)

“Leave me the hell alone.” You harshly whispered, turning on your heels and storming away from the scene in front of you.

Your best friend reuniting with his wife and son. Alive. Not dead. This whole time he had you believing that Rick was dead and gone, never coming back. Yet your eyes were seeing a whole different story to the one Shane painted out for you a couple months prior.

Shane followed pursuit, ignoring the former comment you had made and put a firm hold on your wrist before pulling you behind Dales RV to conceal you from the others.

“Hey, hey . I swear to you Y/N, he was dead when I left that hospital room. He wasn’t breathing. Th- the monitors, they all stopped. Everything went dead. He was dead.” Shane iterated, time and time again.

You feel the anger bubbling up inside you, just like all those other times when Shane had told you Rick was dead and to get it through your head he isn’t coming back. Your hands curled into fists, your nails stabbing into your palm leaving crescent shaped indents.

“Except he wasn’t. Is this why you didn’t want me to go there? Didn’t want Lori to go there? Because you knew if you swooped in and saved her and Carl when Rick couldn’t that what- she’d become your damsel in distress? Is this why? Just so you could get your leg over and fuck your partners wife and become Carls daddy? You’re pathetic Shane.” At this point your head was swarming with thoughts and ideas of what you wanted to do to Shane but better judgement got the best of you.

You began to walk off when a hand reached for you again, this time rougher. Shane pushed you against the RV, his brows furrowed and sweat dripping off his temples- smoke nearly coming out of his ears at this point.

“I don’t know what you think you know but you’re wrong either way. I think you’re forgetting that I didn’t just save Lori and Carl, I saved your sorry ass too. I didn’t have to. That was on me Y/N, That was on me. An’ I ain’t ever looked at Lori like that before, she was Ricks wife and he was my best friend. It happened because I thought he was dead.” He all but growled at you in a hushed whisper.

You remained quiet and stoic for a few moments, registering your thoughts before smirking slightly and speaking again. Pushing Shane’s hand off of you, you began to walk away but not before turning and giving one last snide remark, “I think I know right. And, by the way.. really interesting use of the past tense in those last few sentences there.”

Dickhead.

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“I’ve been here for quite a few hours now and yet, still no hello?” You looked beside you to see Rick crouched with a smile on his face, placing an arm around your shoulder which you leaned into graciously.

“Sorry Grimes.. just- a lot to take in y’no.” You said.

“Na’ I get it. Shane told me what happened.” Rick remarked whilst kissing his teeth and shaking his head.

“He did? Really? What did he say?.”

To say you were shocked was an understatement, Shane had really gone out of his way to-

“Yeah.” He breathed out, “Told me how it started, he tried to get me from the hospital but I wasn’t breathing and he thought I was dead. How he saved you and Lori n’ Carl and got you all here.”

“He told you that huh.” You should have known.

Rick started to stand back up, giving you a pat on the back and a kiss to the forehead first “I’m gonna go get some shut eye, you need too aswell. Talk more in the morning Y/N.” Rick turned to walk back towards camp, not before turning and speaking again, “Y/N.. go nice on Shane though ok? He’s a good guy, you just gotta give him a chance.”

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You wake up the next day to the sound of what you thought was - for once - peace and quiet. Until you hear the shouts outside and a woman screaming stop.

Debating between laying back down and just going back to sleep or getting up and out of your tent to see what was going on, you went with the better judgement and begrudgingly dragged yourself to get changed and step outside.

Shielding your eyes from the rays of light beaming off the Atlanta sun with a sigh escaping your lips at the slight breeze that hit your clammy skin.

“You’d best let me go!”- what the fuck was happening this time?

Walking closer you take sight of Shane with his arms wrapped around Daryl’s neck. A fuckin’ cop getting someone in a choke hold the minute they raise their voice? New worlds maybe not as different from before.

“I’d like to have a calm discussion on this topic, you think we can manage that?” Rick spoke calmly whilst he crouched in front of Daryl, his chest heaving with rocky breaths as Shane’s tight grip didn’t let up just yet.

“You think we can manage that?” Rick repeated.

You zoned out at this point, eyes boring into the side of Shane’s skull with anger.

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“I’m coming.” You didn’t hesitate to jump at the opportunity to get away from camp for a while. The rising tension taking over was beginning to grate at you.

“That’s five”

Shane piped up “It’s not just five, you’re putting every single one of us at risk.” “Just know that Rick”

“Come on man you saw that walker. It was here.

It was in camp.

They’re moving out of the cities.

They come back, we need every able body we’ve got.

We need em here, we need em to protect camp.”

Staying focused when Shane’s voice is droning on for what seems like eternity is quite the mission lately. Listening to him is beginning to seem like nails on a chalkboard.

“-Shane is right. Merle Dixon? He’s not worth one of your lives, even with guns thrown in.”

Hearing Loris voice made you gain attention again.

“If someone left Rick behind-“ you began to join the conversation, maybe with the words aimed at Shane slightly. He clearly picked up on it as his eyes shot to you, if looks could only kill, you’d be six feet under.

“Would you want them to go back for him? Or would you let him stay handcuffed to a roof to die slowly?” Your eyes landing on Lori.

“That’s different. Rick.. he.. he isn’t like Merle. He wouldn’t get himself into that position in the first place.” The stern mom tone coming out as Lori tried to keep her composure and not snap in front of Carl.

“You think Merle purposely got himself into that position? He’s an asshole yeah, and he may have deserved it. But he didn’t expect to be handcuffed and then left behind. Not knowing if anyone was going to go back for him. It may have been an accident. But he shouldn’t have to sit there wondering if he’s just going to die from thirst and hunger or if he’s going to get torn to pieces at the hands of walkers. He may not be your family, but he’s someone’s family. You have your husband, your son. You have Shane. Merle is all Daryl has.” You’re not sure if you were even breathing during that, your chest rising up and down at a rapid speed. You felt rage. How could anyone justify this bullshit?

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Sitting in the back of the van was a bit more awkward than you anticipated. Glenn and Rick up front. You, Daryl and T-dog in the back. Maybe the tension in the back of this van was worse than the tension at camp?

You looked up smiling at T-dog as he avoided Daryl’s intense stare, before he got up and headed to the front to talk to Glenn and Rick.

Daryl kept shooting you glances whenever he thought you couldn’t see, a grunt leaving his mouth every so often as if he was about to talk but decided against it.

Just as you looked up at him, he was already staring with his mouth open yet no words seemed to come so he just scoffed and averted his eyes anywhere but at you.

You began to grow a bit frustrated at him. “What?”

“Nothin’” he all but murmured.

“Stop grunting and scoffing at me like a dog who didn’t get enough treats, be a good boy and just say whatever it is you’ve been wanting to say for the last 15 minutes.” You couldn’t help but chuckle at yourself.

You could have sworn you saw a light tinge of pink cross his cheeks before his head dropped down facing his lap.

His mouth opened and closed, before opening once again “Why’d ya stick up for me.. for Merle back at tha’ camp?”

Oh. That’s what this was about? The intense looks he gave you before this made you think it was about anything but this.

“What do you mean?” You had to admit you were somewhat confused at this.

“Ya said it y’self, Merle, he’s an asshole. So why’d ya go out of ya way to defend him? Why didn’t ya just side with the others and leave him?” Head dropping once again as his thumb found its way to his lips as he gnawed on the nail.

Silence.

You were stuck for words. “He is an asshole. Maybe one of the biggest assholes I’ve ever known. But he’s your brother, maybe not the greatest one but still your brother no matter what. He’s all you have left. The others may not understand, but I do.” Taking a deep breath in and thinking about your next words carefully, “I honestly couldn’t give a shit about him. Doesn’t mean I want him to suffer up there on that roof. No one deserves it. Well I mean maybe some people y’no? Really bad people. And maybe Shane. Merle, he’s not necessarily one of those really bad people. He makes mistakes, says things he definitely shouldn’t and has actions that match, but don’t we all in one way or another?”

Daryl was slightly overwhelmed. Not expecting you to be so honest and caring? Somewhat caring anyway. He didn’t know what to say.

You hummed and tapped your fingers against your legs, “Nothing to say?”

“I dunno what you want me to say.”

A grin made its way to your face.

“How about a thanks?”

“Thanks.” He grumbled trying not to scoff afterwards to avoid being called a dog again.

The van began to come to a stop, Glenn saying something about walking from here.

You stood up whilst stretching your arms above your head.

“That’ll do. Good boy.”

You smirked at him before opening the back of the van and climbing out. Leaving a blushing Daryl in the back trying to hide his face as he groaned standing up.

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authors note: it’s not the greatest, I am very aware. but I really wanna get back into writing in general and I thought starting with twd would be the best place to start as it’s one of my comfort shows. there’s not much happening, it’s very heavily based on s1 e3 obviously but it’s mostly just to try and get back in the swing of things! if you have an constructive feedback or any comments you’d like to make, please feel free as it will be much appreciated :-) I’m hoping to improve my writing skills more and more. It will probably take a while (I’ve literally had the first half of this thing in my notes app since June 2024) but I hope to get to the point of making some good fics! thank you for reading if you managed to make it this far!:)

#the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl #twd x reader #daryl dixon oneshot #daryl dixon imagine #twd fanfiction

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kiragecko · 2 days ago

Text

Authour’s Voices

I read fic for voice before anything else. Plot, tropes, canon compliance – they all pale in comparison to the word crafting. But voice is hard to describe, and referencing certain verbal tics is more likely to make an authour self-conscious than it is to flatter. So, here's my best attempt to describe the voices of some of my favourite fanfic authours – focusing on tone, subject matter, and the feelings they provoke, in a hope that I can get across at least a hint of how they sound.

@suzukiblu / suzukiblu / Rin (I read for DCU, Young Justice TV, Avatar)

REALLY intertwines characters thoughts and feelings in compelling ways. Inner monologues are a particular strength. Digs deep into what motivates characters and then lets them be insecure and angry because of those things. Writes REALLY close third person narration – ie. we are entirely in one person’s head, but the narration is using their name instead of saying ‘me.’ And we are ENTWINED in their head. Deeply. Maybe actually more in their chest - the emotions are visceral and immediate. Very cathartic angry/overwhelmed ranting is a feature. People learning that they have inherent value. Romance/sex that is based on strong connections, and goes far deeper than hormones. A strong understanding of canon, used to write alternate universes that are much richer for that knowledge. Stories are cathartic, and leave you washed clean and energized.

@whetstonefires / Kieron_ODuibhir (/ Kieron) (I read for DCU, The Untamed/The Other Versions Of This Story)

Thoughtful, empathic stories that feel like they’ve spent months being refined to perfection. Also incredibly strong understanding of canon, with a much higher chance of showing her work on the page. A gift for searching out the nagging, poorly fitting pieces of canon characterization, and integrating them in her fic in ways that makes rereading the original a better experience. Beautiful, haunting, sentences. Feels like poetry makes me feel. A writing style that ALMOST feels intellectual, but is actually incredibly empathic. The knowledge is the vessel that carries the ... love? Respect? Maybe respect, and care, and dignity, that she has for the characters she’s writing about. Stories leave you quiet and satisfied.

@galaxystew / galaxysoup (I read for Avengers/Thor, Supernatural)

Careful, emotional, deep stories. There is a sense of immenseness, that the story can’t go too fast or it would become unstoppable. DEEPLY moving, gut-wrenching, stories told from just enough emotional distance to avoid overwhelming the audience. But they also about taking time to rest, both for the characters and the audience. Focuses on exploring and healing damaged relationships, (and damaged people), and never goes for the easy/trite solutions. Unassuming language and imagery that grounds the sometimes epic elements of her canons. Stories leave you grateful – grateful that the characters have reached that place, and grateful you got to come along.

@teland / Teland / Te (I read for DCU)

Stories have only the vestigial remains of a narrator. Almost everything is verbal or mental dialogue, usually without tags. (Ie. things like ‘Tim said.’) This would be frustrating with most writers, but Te’s character voices are SO strong and distinct that a story can start with an unnamed person talking and you immediately know who it is. She focuses on aspects of characters that many other authours miss (though some of that could be survivorship bias – perhaps she was part of a zeitgeist that hasn’t been preserved). She gets DEEP into the psyches of the characters she’s writing, dissects them, and then has them dryly comment on their displayed innards. Excels at characters that are very disconnected from their emotions, but also at characters who live immediately IN their emotions. Strong themes of identity and found family, though not in the way ‘found family’ is usually used these days. Symbolic, projected family? Stand-in, or sublimated, or substituted family? Something in that area. A lot of sex, which is also standing in for other things. Electric, transformative stories, with extremely long chapters that are hard to escape from when the world tries to call you back. Stories leave you alive to the possibilities, and maybe knowing more about yourself.

@angel-gidget / angel_gidget / Gidge (I read for DCU)

There’s an optimism and joy to Gidge’s writing. A ... cleanness. Hmm, what do I mean? I ... I’m not actually sure? But it feels refreshing and space-making, to read a Gidge story. It feels like they SHOULD be humorous, with the effects they have, but that’s not actually the focus? It feels like they’re light, even when the topic is heavy and treated seriously. It’s a really special gift, what Gidge has. Maybe the correct term is ‘conversational’? Yeah, there’s a matter-of-fact, conversational tone to everything she creates, and it lifts your spirits every time you read it.

@vmohlere / owlet (I read for Avengers/Captain America)

Absolutely brilliant way of using humour to tackle difficult subjects. Stories are so funny and positive, that it’s hard to realize how dark the things referenced are. It helps that they usually don’t become explicit until the characters have mostly processed them, and they’ve been defanged of a lot of their power. I’ve never seen someone else accomplish this, and it blows me away. Incredible OCs. Deep empathy for character’s specific needs, and focusing on what THEY’RE ready to focus on. Boundaries are not only respected, but taught. And all of this is happening behind a wry, clever sense of humour that invites you in to hang out for a while. One of the most joyful reading experiences I’ve ever had. I’ve used scenes to walk myself through bad mental periods. And I still think about their work every time I make a grilled cheese.

#the way I described things varies between authours #partially because I wrote this over 2 days #and partially because I focus on different things when reading different people #Te and Rin and owlet have REALLY good sentences #but Kieron has really good paragraphs #and I struggle to break Gidge's writing down any smaller than the whole story #also I'm pretty sure galaxy stew/soup's stories have an aura that is outside of the fic itself and affecting me #how am I supposed to describe that?!?

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cha-melodius · 2 days ago

Note

#16, Alex/Henry?

(Also requested by @firenati0n. I feel like there were two obvious options for this one: post-leaks in canon, or post-rescue mission of some kind. You can probably guess which one I chose. 😂 read all the hug ficlets)

Firstprince, 16: The “it’s okay, I’m here” hug.

Add’l note: This is more or less a tiny sequel to So Close to Something Better Left Unknown. You don’t have to have read the fic to read this ficlet, but it does contain minor spoilers for the very end of said fic.

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

When Henry gave him the watch, it was half a joke and half because Henry’s in love with him and his hopeless heart latched onto the slim chance to keep an eye on him, at least from a distance. He’d expected Alex to leave it behind, or disable the tracker, or at the very least not wear it, but as far as he can tell, Alex had done none of those things. The tracker bops around the globe, giving Henry far too much information on CIA missions merely through its location. Not that Henry would ever pass on that information to his own agency, or anyone else for that matter.

That Alex trusted him not to, to keep his secrets… Well, it means a lot.

He assumed that at some point his own work would bring him within striking distance of Alex again, and he’d make use of the tracker to find him and… oh, hell, he doesn’t know. Say hello? It sounds absurd for a spy, but it’s pretty much all he could hope for. But before that happens, the tracker gets stuck for a week in a remote part of Guatemala, and Henry starts to get worried. Maybe Alex just lost the watch, or abandoned it for some reason. That’s the most reasonable explanation. Even so, Henry quietly requests recent satellite images of that area and zooms all the way in on the watch’s coordinates.

It’s a high-security compound of some sort. Not good.

He tries not to let his imagination run wild. The tracker he’d left in the watch is extremely high resolution, and he watches it occasionally move around the compound, as if someone was wearing it, though mostly it stays in one place. Alex could have traded it or gifted it as part of an operation; it was a valuable watch, after all. Still, it nags at Henry. He’s not going to be able to rest until he finds out what actually happened. The most straightforward way would be simply asking, but he has no way of contacting Alex except a burner phone he has no reason to believe Alex would be monitoring.

He sends a message anyway, but after a few days without a response, he can’t take it anymore.

It’s completely mad, he knows it is, but he makes up an excuse about tracking down a lead on a long-cold operation and books a ticket to Guatemala City. He covertly watches the outside of the compound for three days, keeping track of the men who come and go, and sends photos of them to Bea with a request to run facial recognition and not ask any questions. (She does, of course, but she doesn’t push, even when they come back with the names of some very bad people.)

Finally, once the compound’s primary resident leaves and takes with him what should be the majority of his armed muscle, Henry makes his move. The watch is still inside, and Henry follows the tracker’s signal down into the basement of an outbuilding, taking out a handful of guards with tranquilizers as he goes. The building is dark and dank, and the series of locked metal doors he finds do nothing to help the cold, hard knot that’s settled into his stomach. His hands don’t shake as he picks the lock on the one the watch is resting behind, but that careful composure slips when the door finally swings open to reveal a miserable lump curled on a thin mattress, a head of matted curls just visible through the murky darkness.

Alex flinches away when Henry first reaches out for him, scrambling into the corner, but then his eyes land on Henry and his mouth drops open. He blinks rapidly, scrubs frantically at his eyes, and blinks again.

“Henry?” he croaks in disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here for you, love,” Henry tells him, holding his hands out in front of him as he slowly moves closer. “I’ve come to get you.”

There’s a beat of silence, then another, then Alex surges toward him. Henry almost shies away himself, unsure of what Alex means to do, but then Alex is grabbing him and wrapping him up in a hug so tight it squeezes the air out of Henry’s lungs, and Henry can do nothing else but curl his arms around the trembling man now occupying his lap.

“It’s ok, I’m here,” he murmurs, rubbing a soothing hand down Alex’s back.

“How?” Alex chokes out. “How did you…?”

His voice trails off as he raises his left arm and looks at his own wrist, where a bit of watch strap peeks out beyond the filthy cuff of his shirt. Inexplicably, his captors had let him keep it, though that becomes more understandable when his sleeve slips further down and Henry sees how he’s smeared it with mud. The exquisite Patek Philippe now looks like a beaten up piece of junk.

“I didn’t want to lose it,” Alex says, his voice cracking over the syllables. He drops his arm and tries to bury his face in Henry’s chest. “That probably sounds dumb.”

“No, love, it doesn’t,” Henry says, holding him tighter. It’s torture to pull away, but eventually he must. “Come on,” he says, tipping Alex’s chin, now covered in a scraggly beard, up so their eyes meet. “Let’s get you out of here.”

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #firstprince #firstprince fic #rwrb fic #my fic #hug ficlets #sctsblu #i reserve the right to expand this later lol

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faithisyours · 2 days ago

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Basement Hangout

Vi X Fem!Reader

Chapter 4 of The List

Previous chapters can be found here

Summary: you (along with your mutual friends) surprise Vi with a basement hangout. Shenanigans ensue.

cw: timebomb, melvika, and jayvik included, Caitlyn is also here, Claggor and Mylo mentioned, some other supporting cast appearances, light smut, fingering, some dirty talk, alcohol consumption, smut while slightly intoxicated, Vi’s more dominant in this one, kinda choking but not really, some fluff, I think that’s it.

Word count: 3.3k

an: Hello little gay people in my phone! I give you chapter 4, hope you enjoy it, this one fought me the entire way. Sorry for such a long wait, I just got back to college, which will probably continue to alter the pace at which I post these, but I do plan on continuing to post, although my pace may slow. I’m also predicting a couple caitvi fics in my future, so be on the lookout for those. If you want to see anything specific in this fic, or be added to the tag list, let me know! And as always, men and minors dni.

“M’ so fucking cold, is he incapable of answering his door in a timely manner?” Vi huffed. You and your girlfriend stood waiting outside on the steps of Ekko’s house. It was now full blown winter, and was, in fact, actively snowing as you stood there.

It had been over a month since you and Vi made that blanket fort in the living room of your shared apartment, the last thing you had done off the list. Between work, holidays, and overall life in general, you both hadn’t gotten to cross any more things off it, but on the bright side, Vi had finally shared the list in its entirety with you. And it was long. A lot of the things were season specific, such as camping, but many were not, like the one you were surprising Vi with tonight.

“I don't understand why we couldn't have just picked this stuff up tomorrow. We’re freezing our asses off for nothing,” Vi continued with her complaining.

“Ekko asked nicely, so we’ll just get this over with and then we can go home, alright?” you soothed. Of course, this was all a ruse to get Vi over here, and hopefully she would feel differently when the surprise was revealed. When you had read over the list, the idea of a “basement hangout” had burrowed its way into your head and would not leave. So, you decided to band all your friends together to help surprise Vi. Ekko had been the one to offer his place as the setting, considering he was the only one with a finished basement. The trickiest part was getting Vi over here without having her get suspicious. You had Ekko call you while you were in front of Vi to ask if the two of you could come over to pick some things up left over from the holiday party he had. Vi was not happy about it, but she’d do basically anything for a lifelong friend, so here you stood. And, safe to say, Vi was too cold to be suspicious, if she ever was to begin with.

At that moment, you heard the sound of a lock sliding back, and then the door swung open, revealing Ekko, who was dressed in black sweatpants and a dark olive-green sweatshirt.

“Come in, come in.” Ekko ushered you both inside. Vi hurriedly marched indoors first, giving Ekko a somewhat pointed look when passing him. “It’s just down in the basement, I’ll show you where.”

He shot you a wink while Vi wasn’t looking, then led you both down the stairs to the basement. It was warm down there, string lights hung against the walls and wrapped around the exposed beams on the ceiling, but other than that, it was completely dark.

“It’s just over here…” Ekko said, pointing vaguely around the bend of the stairs. He turned on a floor lamp, drenching the room in light, and simultaneously people jumped out from behind the couch, from the closet, from around the corner, and yelled “Surprise!” Vi turned to you, a shocked look on her face. You just gave her a smile, shoving her shoulder lightly with yours.

“Surprise,” you said, grinning at her and giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.

“But it’s not my birthday,” Vi countered incredulously, like that was the only time surprising her was acceptable.

“I know. This is from the list, a ‘basement hangout’ if I remember correctly,” you said. She hummed in response, then, abruptly, gave you a rather salacious kiss that caught you off guard and had your friends either groaning out ew’s or whistling low. You pulled away breathless, a blush creeping up your cheeks, and Vi gave you the cheekiest grin of all time.

After recovering from that, you turned your attention to your friends, who were already getting the party started by pouring drinks and playing music through the surround-sound speakers. And it really was appropriate to say party, considering how many of your mutual friends had shown up. There was Ekko, of course, and Jinx, as well as Caitlyn, Viktor, Jayce, Mel, Sevika, Lest, Maddie, Claggor, Mylo, Scar, and Steb. Maybe you had overdone it with the invitations, and it no longer resembled a chill hangout with friends, but everyone seemed to be having a good time, so you supposed it didn’t really matter.

You and Vi, stripped of your coats, took your time saying hello to everyone, but only after you got drinks in your hands. You got a malibu cranberry, while Vi got a vodka redbull. Settling down on one of the couches, Vi wrapped her arm around you and leaned back. It was almost comical the way your position mirrored the other couples in attendance: Mel and Sevika were sitting on the adjacent couch, Mel basically in Sev’s lap, while Jayce and Viktor were occupying an armchair, Jayce in the chair while Viktor propped himself on the arm. And then there was Ekko and Jinx, who were sitting on the same couch as you and Vi, but where Ekko sat normally, Jinx sat perched on the back of the couch behind him. Your uncoupled friends dotted the rest of the room, either sitting or standing in semi-circles talking with one another.

“Beer pong, anyone?” Jayce asked, pointing to the empty table near the hallway.

“I’ll play,” Viktor answered.

“So will I,” Jinx volunteered.

“Either of you want to play?” Viktor asked when no one else said anything, pointing towards you and Vi.

“I’ll just watch this first round,” you said, giving Viktor a smile.

“And I’m gonna stay with my girl a while longer,” Vi answered, subconsciously pulling you closer to her. You blushed slightly, always going a little red when Vi called you her girl. It didn’t matter that you had been together for years, you were still going to blush. But what you were also going to do was blame it on the alcohol.

“Alright, I’ll play,” Ekko said, shooting you both an exasperated look.

The two couples rose from their seats and made their way towards the table. Jayce and Ekko occupied one end, while Jinx and Viktor stood at the other. And soon enough, ping pong balls began bouncing back and forth. The table was at a good angle and distance away to where you could watch them play and still contribute to the conversation, but could also tune it out or have a separate conversation with Vi and the others sitting down around you.

You sipped on your drink, already half downed, and did your best to pay attention to your friends playing, but your girlfriend was making it increasingly difficult to focus. The hand that was not holding her drink was around your waist, drawing lazy patterns there and working together with the alcohol to heat your skin. You fidgeted, squirming slightly in Vi’s grip, which only made her grasp on you tighter.

“So I heard about this list…” Mel said, pulling your attention away from the beer pong and towards where she and Sev sat on the couch next to yours. “What is it exactly?”

“Oh, well, um…” you tried to find a decent explanation without having to explain the ‘why’ part of it, but Vi beat you to it.

“It’s a list of things we both have never done and want to do,” she said simply.

“So, like a bucket list?” Sevika interjected.

“Kinda, but more to the tune of stupid teenager shit,” you said.

“I see, alright, that makes sense. Maybe we should start one, huh Sev?” Mel said, nudging her partner.

“Anything you want, my love,” Sevika replied, smiling at her girlfriend. Mel just shook her head, amused at Sev’s response, a smile curving her mouth.

“That makes sense, considering what we're doing. Very teenager-esque, I must say. But I feel like something’s missing, like we need to be playing spin-the-bottle or explicit truth or dare,” Mel said.

“Ekko has drunk jenga,” you said, pointing to a pile of games stacked high in the corner.

“That's perfect. Alright, who wants to play drunk jenga?” Mel asked the room, and a chorus of ‘I will’s followed. So while Mel and Sevika grabbed the game and began setting it up, you went to grab yourself another drink, Vi following behind you.

“Do you want another one, babe?” you ask Vi, who was in the process of snaking her hands around your front to hug you from behind.

“I’m alright, thank you though,” she said from just over your shoulder. So you fixed your drink, a Dirty Shirley this time, all while having a rather clingy Vi attached to your back, then joined your friends.

While Jinx, Ekko, Jayce, and Viktor played beer pong, you, Vi, Mel, Sev, Lest, Scar, Maddie, Caitlyn, and Setb (in that order) huddled around the coffee table to play drunk jenga. Since it was Mel and Sev’s idea, they went first. Mel pulled one from right in the middle, sliding it out and reading it aloud.

“Take a shot with the person to your right,” she said, then looked towards Sevika, who was already getting up to go get shot glasses and vodka. Sev came back, poured the shots, cheered with Mel and downed it, barely making a face at its taste. Mel, on the other hand, made a twisted face at the taste. And since they had pulled a block semi-together, it was now Lest’s turn. She pulled one from the edge close to the bottom, its removal slightly more difficult than the block Mel pulled, then read it aloud.

“Kiss the person to your right,” she said, and a small blush appeared on her cheeks. She turned to her right to face Scar, Ekko’s long-time friend, who looked a little shocked and flushed, but played it off well. Hesitantly they kissed, a quick and gentle peck, but it was cute enough to bring a smile to your face.

It went on like that, your friends pulling blockers that made the structure more precarious each turn, reading them aloud and quickly getting more intoxicated. And then it was your turn. You surveyed the tower, looking for a block to pull that wouldn’t tip the entire structure over, and went with the bottom middle block. As you poked and prodded, the tower shifted, but you were able to pull the block free without losing the game.

“Seven minutes in heaven,” you read out, and as soon as the words left your lips, Vi, with a wicked grin on her face, was pulling you away and down the hall. She stopped at the hall closet, flung the door open, then pushed you inside, closing the door behind her.

The slats in the door allowed enough light in for you to get the gist of shapes, but it was still pretty dark. Your heart was pounding, probably due to the combination of alcohol and adrenaline in your blood. Vi had hauled you off rather quickly, you barely had time to set your almost empty cup down, and now you were standing very close to your girlfriend in a very confined space. Good thing you weren't claustrophobic.

“I haven't been in one of these in years,” you joked, looking around the small space and attempting to diffuse the growing tension. Vi had been exceptionally touchy this evening, and being in a confined space alone with her was only making you more soaked.

“I think we should play a game,” Vi whispered, leaning in close.

“Besides seven minutes in heaven?” you asked.

“I think we should play the game where whoever makes the other come first wins.” Vi leaned back slightly, surveying your face with a small grin on hers. She knew you were two drinks down, and even though you weren't completely drunk yet, you were still pretty tipsy. Her surveying you was your chance to say no. But you didn’t want to. That grin on her face let you know she knew you were tipsy, and because of that would be at a disadvantage when it came to the game. And you wanted nothing more than to prove her wrong.

Instead of answering her with words, you launched yourself at her, pulling her into a hard and frantic kiss. You threw your arms around her neck, pressing your body against hers, and tangled one of your hands in her hair, pulling slightly at the strands. Vi moaned low, and the sound went straight to your clit. You pulled back from the kiss only to have your hands shoot straight to the front of her pants, working the button loose. Vi, catching on, did the same to your pants. Soon enough you were dragging your hand through her happy trail and into her boxers, her hand not far behind in yours.

Vi’s fingers pushed into you, only to find you completely soaked. “All this already? If you were so needy you could have just said something,” she taunted.

“Shut up,” you retorted, but there was no bite behind the words. While she dragged her fingers through your folds, spreading your slick and lazily circling your clit, you pushed two fingers into her and slowly ground the palm of your hand against her clit. Her walls clenched around the intrusion, but the new wave of slick, along with her surprised moan, let you know you were welcome.

Both of you seemed to have differing strategies: where Vi was more lazy and teasing with her movements, you were precise and strategic. Or at least you were trying to be. As soon as Vi sunk two fingers into you and started curling them, your movements faltered. You tried to keep up, tried to play it off by stifling your moans and rubbing her clit harder, and while, yes, Vi was moaning and whimpering slightly, your ministrations were nothing compared to hers. She knew your body like the back of her hand, knew all the right buttons to press, when to press them, and how to make you fall apart in her hands.

“What's the matter, babe? Can’t keep up?” she taunted. You kissed her to shut her up, but also to hopefully regain some control. You knew she loved when you were loud, and you knew she loved when you played with her tits. So you did both. You moaned, excessively, into the kiss, syncing it up with her thrusts, and worked your free hand inside her shirt and under her bra. You grazed your fingers over her nipple, which elicited a gasp from her, breaking the kiss for only a second before she pulled you back into it. You knew she knew what you were doing, so you tried to be as unpredictable as possible. You pinched her nipple, which earned you a guttural moan, the sound making you smile against the kiss. Now you are in control.

But it didn’t last long. Vi broke the kiss and instead pressed her forehead against yours, her heavy breathing mixing with yours. And then the next thing you knew there was a hand on your throat and you were being pushed back against the wall, her fingers still circling tightly around your clit. Your back hit the wall, and you wanted to complain that this position wasn’t fair, but then Vi started kissing you again, and the hand on your throat was squeezing just so, and her fingers were working you closer and closer to the edge. You were dizzy, hazy from the alcohol, breathless, still kissing her, and you tried your hardest to keep up, circling her clit and adding a third finger, but it was a lost cause. You were losing your footing, your hand was stopping and starting, your jerky movements doing little to bring Vi much pleasure.

You pulled away from the kiss, panting, and rested your forehead on Vi’s shoulder. You just needed to focus.

“Not very good at this game, are you?” she whispered into your ear, her voice dripping with mock-condicention. You tried to speak, tried to come up with a retort, but all you could manage was a weak moan. “Why don’t you come for me, baby. It’s okay, you can do it,” she said, her breath ghosting your ear. And then, as if that wasn’t enough, she was kissing your neck, your jaw, that spot behind your ear that always made you squirm, and it was your undoing.

You came with a strangled cry of her name, wave after wave of pleasure crashing into you as Vi kept up her movements, and you would have collapsed if it hadn’t been for Vi snaking the hand that was previously on your throat around your back to keep you upright. She soothed and cooed at you, bringing you slowly but surely back to reality.

Foreheads pressed together and hands still in each other's pants, there was a small nock on the closet door. “What?” Vi said, while her breath still mingled with your.

“Um, I’m supposed to tell you that the seven minutes is up,” you heard Jayce say from beyond the door.

“Got it,” Vi responded, and you couldn't help but laugh, Vi joining you in your giggles. You removed your hand, Vi mirroring your movements, and when Vi slipped her come-covered fingers into her mouth to clean them off, you did the same.

“I may have lost,” you said, “but did I really lose?” You gave Vi a cocky look as you buttoned your pants.

She hummed. “I guess we both won, in different ways.” You gave her another quick kiss before readjusting your clothes and smoothing your hair, making sure everything was as it should be. Vi did the same, and soon enough you were opening the closet door and stepping out to join the party once more.

As you made your way back, hand-in-hand with Vi, a handful of your friends gave you knowing looks, and some of them even whistled, but most didn’t react. You knew you should have tried to be quiet, and you had for the most part, but you had assumed the distance plus the music would have drowned out most of the moaning. Maybe you had miscalculated. But it didn’t matter now.

You and Vi rejoined the party, chatted with friends and played a couple more games, but stuck to water for the rest of your time there. And after a couple more hours, you were yawning, curled up against Vi, about ready to fall asleep. Vi had been talking with Ekko, a conversation you were too tired to follow, but noticed your yawning and decided it was time to go.

She got you into your coat, pulling your hat onto your head and zipping you up, then put her own on. She thanked Ekko profusely, as well as your remaining friends, which you also did, albeit more groggily, then guided you up the stairs and out the door towards the car. It had stopped snowing, and the car didn’t need much scraping off before it was able to be driven. Vi guided you into the passenger seat, making sure your seat belt was clicked in before closing your door and making her way around to settle into the driver's seat.

“Thank you for tonight, it was wonderful,” she said. Though you were on the verge of falling asleep, you heard her through the haze.

“You’re welcome, baby. Anything for you,” you mumbled, then proceeded to fall asleep.

Tag list: @usuck @saqqarasdissent

#vi smut #vi arcane #vi arcane fic #vi fanfic #vi x fem reader #vi fluff #arcane league of legends #arcane smut #fluff #arcane league of lesbians #vi fanfiction #vi x reader #arcane

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emrys-and-his-king · 2 days ago

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Alright, and here's the dessert platter... I brought a lot out

I think we have quite similar taste, canon era, some nice light stuff, and a good confession of course

Harkening back to season one for some reason reminds me of the different first meeting style fics (which I really like) so those are going to have their own section in case you like 'em :} Also added a section for the ones tagged humor, not fluff, I still included my favs bc humor is adjacent to fluff in my mind

Straight (Well Gay, Actually) Up Fluff

A Royal Portrait by mobycotton (Arthur is adorkable... it's great.)

Be my husband by Theroundbartable (They go live on a farm for some time, Arthur has some realizations, it's adorable.)

sleepy by Theroundbartable (Merlin is eepy. Arthur takes care of him, it's very cute.)

Goodnight, I Love You by MerlinLikeTheBird (Silly sleepy Merlin.)

It's Possible (For a Plain Country Bumpkin and a Prince to Join in Marriage) by AeonTheDimensionalGirl (Also silly and cute, 'cinderella elements' is a tag and you know, enjoy that.)

In Which Arthur Gets Jealous of an Owl by AeonTheDimensionalGirl (Tagged s01 e04 so you should at least be able to read this one, it's silly and cute of course.)

Sunrise in Ealdor, Sunset in Camelot by mobycotton (It's so cute, featuring tag: 'arthur in his cottage core arc.')

Language by Theroundbartable (A good and silly time.)

Happy Birthday by platonic_boner (Birthday fluff, first kiss, great stuff.)

Destiny Ordered You to Die, But I Willed You to Live by ironfamjam (Arthur's realizations go brr.)

The Truth Always Comes to Light by AliceTheBrave (The truth come out... anyway curses and confessions, very cute.)

Good Fortune by platonic_boner (Just some Merlin doing a great job and fluff ofc.)

Arthur Enchanted by platonic_boner (Phrasing is very important here, wonderful pining and tension.)

Humor/Attempt at Humor

Catching Bees with Honey by CaffeinatedFlumadiddle (Confused Arthur & Merlin having a great time.)

Made of Memories by dryalis 1 (This one has a little angst, but I loved it and it's tagged humor and I don't remember it being heavy or anything, so give it a go if it sounds interesting to you. Extra note, my ao3 notes say it's very cute too.)

Talk to Me by InkThroughHerVeins (A little Arthur angst never hurt anyone, that's how you get the pining to bleed through... still light, still cute.)

The Great Feast and the Missing Manservant by OberonBronze (Such silly, much good.)

All is Semblative by Whitefox (Cinderella Merlin again? More likely than you think.)

Next to You (It's the Rule) by LunaMyLove (This is such a classic, it's so good, it's hilarious and adorable.)

That's His Name by ZairaA (So cute, their interactions are great, Arthur is adorable.)

Different First Meeting

Mad World by Theroundbartable (Not super fluffy, but not dark either, their interactions and Arthur's character is great and I really enjoyed reading it.)

Determination by diner_drama (What if Merlin wasn't his manservant? The pining is so much worse and pathetic. It's great.)

Merlin Wings and Golden Kings by PurpleFlyingBird (Bird Merlin :>)

The Sun begged "love me" and the Moon replied "I did" by TooAwkwaardToFunction (This was absolutely adorable.)

Woad Blue by MerlinLikeTheBird (Also not super fluffy, not heavy either, I didn't think I would like this one very much at the get go, don't remember all too much except that I loved it and binged it so fast.)

We Can Hide Together, Among the Roses by infinitemerlin (These were my ao3 notes on this one... -Lots of Arthur pining after Merlin--and it's adorable--while fighting his upbringing. & Thought you liked florist and tattoo arist? Check this shit out. It's a florist and a prince.)

Oblivious by s0mmerspr0ssen (They're stupid you're honor, I love them.)

Please Hate Me, I am Difficult to Love (Loving You is Like Breathing) by portently (Awww they're in the forest and they're cute and it's sweet.)

Other/Misc

The Drawbacks of Dragon Lord-ing by SnufflesThePig (This one isn't finished, it doesn't quite fits any of the earlier boxes by I loved this one and found it adorable.)

Prized Possesion by Sonayesul (In the same vein, is finished, also amazing, and does contain a confession.)

Hiemal by icallyoumoonchild (Fluff, but that's not a tag so it's down here, confession included of course, getting together, sharing clothes... what more could you ask for?)

It's Magic, I Can Tell by Sonayesul (It's very silly and cute, so you know, it's on here too.)

Emrys the Really, Truly Terrible by lindenwaverly (This one is so silly, it's great.)

THE RULES by Slayer_of_Destiny (Also a classic, very good, very silly.)

im watching bbc merlin for the first time and wdym merlin and arthur already had a break up by ep 2 😭

yall weren’t exaggerating about how gay they are

#so whoopsidasy #that turned out very long #hope y'all enjoy it though #it was a lot of fun to go through all my bookmarked stuff and pick out my favorites (as pertains to the types of fic being talked about)#i'm really going to have reread some of these #it ended up so long but i just couldn't leave some of these out they're all so good to me #anyway enjoy!#rook recs #merlin fic recs #merthur #merthur fic recs

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musings-of-a-rose · 16 hours ago

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A vampire Benny and werewolf Benny! Can you make more or more stories spiraled off what you have? Those left me thirsty for more. Especially, werewolf Benny! 🔥🔥🔥❤️❤️❤️

Hunter's Moon

Pairing: Werewolf Benny x f!reader (established in Closer, linked in notes)

Word Count: 2100+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes: Anon, I had some vampire Benny ideas too but since you loved werewolf Benny in Closer, I decided to do a little one shot of those 2!

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

→Tell Tumblr this should be shared with others by reblogging! That's what the algorithm loves (it's how it works here. I don't make the rules!)

**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Benny Masterlist

Fic this one is set in: Closer

“You seem restless tonight baby, are you ok?” I place my hand on his thigh as it continues to bounce.

“Hhmm? Oh. Yeah. I’m fine.”

I shift my head up from where I had been laying against his chest to look up at him. “You know I know when you’re lying, right?”

“That’s not a bond thing.”

“No, that’s an I know you thing. What’s up?”

He sighs and looks down at me, kissing my forehead. “Just a hunter’s moon tomorrow night. Has me all jittery.”

“What’s a hunter’s moon mean to wolves?”

He’s quiet for a few moments. “It’s uh…well we sort of change and um…look for a…mate.”

Ah. “Oh. Like on a hunt?”

He nods. “Yeah I guess. But I already have you. It’s just…hard not to feel the pull.”

I sit up and shift to face him on the couch. “What pull? What’s it feel like?”

Benny takes a deep breath, his eyes unfocused as he thinks. “You know how I always feel more compelled to shift on a full moon?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“Well…it’s like that but a lot more intense. The desire to…do you really want to hear all this?”

I smile at him and take his hand, squeezing it. “It’s you. And I want to know all of you.”

“Fair enough.” He clears his throat. “Like I said it’s like a regular full moon but more intense. The desire to…chase and find a mate to…”

“Make pups with?”

Benny can’t help but chuckle. “Exactly, yeah. It doesn’t always end in pups though. Often it’s just about a bond. Finding a mate. Even if it’s for that one night. But I have you. I’ll be fine. Just gotta shake it off.”

Shake it off. When has that ever worked for werewolf things?

“Can I help?”

Benny shakes his head. “I don’t think so. But thanks, sweetheart.” He presses a soft kiss to my lips and I don’t know if it’s our bond amplifying it, but I can feel him practically vibrating off the couch.

“I’ll be home for dinner tomorrow. Gotta stop by Bill’s to make sure that tractor of his is still working. And then I’ll just…lock myself in the basement or something.”

“You sure you don’t want to join your pack?”

Benny shakes his head. “Nah. I want to be with you.” He pushes my head gently back towards his chest as we resume watching whatever is on the tv, my brain rapidly working on a plan to help him.

—----

My heart pounds in my chest as I run through the woods, grateful for the many acres that came with my homestead when I took the vet position. I had stowed the atv a bit back, opting to go on foot the rest of the way. Any moment now, Benny should be getting home and finding my note I’ve left him on the table.

Come and get me.

I know he’ll find me and probably fairly quickly, considering our bond and his heightened senses. But that doesn’t mean I can’t have some fun. I press my back to a tree trunk, my chest rising and falling rapidly while I try to catch my breath. In the distance, I hear a howl, making my bond marks feel warm.

He’s coming.

I give myself a few more breaths before I shove off the tree, heading towards the top of this hill that’s slowly trying to kill me. This will be nothing for Benny, however, his large, padded paws will scale this like it’s nothing. Still, I manage to struggle to the top, my hands on my knees as I look around. The moon is bright and full, casting a faint glow around the small clearing ahead. I head through the trees and just make it into the clearing when I hear him, large and heavy paws thudding the ground up the side of the hill. Shit, that’s a lot faster than I anticipated. But then…silence. As I stand in the clearing, looking towards where I came from, I see nothing. I know he’s around, I can feel it. I can feel the tether between us. The wind stills, the night animals growing silent, making my beating heart sound extra loud. If I wasn’t bonded and completely in love with Benny, I would be terrified out of my mind right now.

A flash of movement from the corner of my eye and I’m running in the opposite direction, pushing my way past the trees on the other side of the clearing, further into the woods. I can hear him behind me, shoving past trees, panting hard, a howl emanating from him. He’s making all of this sound so I hear him on purpose. I know because I’ve seen him move nearly silent. I see another clearing up ahead and I push myself a little harder, a stitch in my side nearly taking me out. But then I’m through the trees, running towards the other side. A sudden, soft nip at my ankle sends me flying, my hands slamming into the ground just inside the clearing. I turn as quick as I can, still on my ass, hands behind me as I crab walk backwards, my eyes scanning the trees.

When I’m a quarter of the way into the clearing, I see him. Benny’s wolf form is large and formidable, nearly 9ft tall when he’s not hunching over, the moonlight shining brightly against his golden fur. He slowly slinks into the clearing, his eyes deadset on me. His massive form somehow squeezes past the last tree when the air around him starts to shimmer and move, like too many things happening at once. Benny, in his gloriously naked human form, doesn’t miss a step, his eyes dark with lust as he stalks towards me. I’m momentarily stunned by how gorgeous he is. Then I remember I’m supposed to be running from him. I scramble up and turn, running as fast as I can for the trees. I only make it halfway across the clearing when his fingers tangle in my hair, yanking me back against him, his other hand snaking around my front as he exposes my neck to him.

“And just where do you think you’re going?” His voice is low, his breath fanning down across my exposed neck.

I try to struggle against him, halfheartedly because fuck I am so turned on. “Trying to get away from y-you,” I’m still trying to catch my breath, but it’s difficult to focus with him pressed against my back, hard and wanting.

“Well now, we can’t have that sweetheart.” Benny grips my dress and in one swift yank, rips it in half from my body, my bra quickly following. I try to move but his grip in my hair tightens and I go nowhere. His hand slides in the front of my panties, a low growl coming from his throat when he feels how wet I am. My panties are quickly tossed aside, joining my dress somewhere in the night.

“Run,” he whispers in my ear, releasing his hold on me. I do as he says, running as fast as I can towards the trees again. But then I feel him behind me and I trip, putting my arms out to stop myself from slamming into the ground. But I don’t hit the ground, Benny’s arm winding around me to soften my blow. The second my knees hit the ground he’s on me, pressing his body over mine. He leans over me, engulfing me with his entire presence, nipping at my ear.

“Mine,” he growls, sitting back up, digging his nails into my hips as he pushes himself inside me, pulling my hips back at the same time. I cry out, my fingers gripping at the grass and dirt as he fucks me from behind, fast and hard, my bond markings feeling like they’re on fire, but the kind of fire that goes straight between my legs. His grunts and skin on my skin are the only sounds echoing across the clearing.

He pushes me flat into the dirt, my hips angled just enough for him to continue fucking into me. His hands trace down my body, gripping my wrists and putting them above my head. But then he laces his fingers with mine, checking in with me and I squeeze his hand back, letting him know I’m ok.

“Fuck!” He grunts in my ear, his teeth sinking into my shoulder as he cums, warmth filling me up as his hips sputter. He drops his forehead to my shoulder, breathing heavily for several moments. He presses a soft kiss to my shoulder before sliding out of me, pulling away from me and allowing me to breathe.

I just stay in that position, breathing heavy. But then he touches me, a long finger sliding up me until it expertly locates my clit, gently massaging it. I moan into the ground as the fire quickly builds. When he bites my asscheek I come, gasping and panting as he works me through it. I come down, breathing heavy and manage to sit up, turning to look at him and notice him getting hard again. He looks at me looking at him and the air around him starts to shift again, his wolf form seemingly popping out of nowhere. He takes a massive step towards me, using his nose to push me on my back. He shifts my legs open with his nose, baring me to him and the night. He lowers his head and licks me gently, and it’s only after the third pass of his tongue that I remember it has healing powers. A few licks later and he’s done, the soreness I felt a moment before completely gone. The air changes and there he stands again, in all his naked beauty. He offers me a hand and pulls me up, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips before pulling back, his eyes dark and lustful again.

“Run.”

—----

I don’t remember how many times we fucked that night, or how we got back to my house, only that I slept until late afternoon the next day. Benny, with his superhuman hearing, comes in the room with a tray of food, a tentative smile on his face. We hadn’t really exchanged words last night, letting both of our primal sides come out instead.

“Hey, sweetheart. How are you feeling?” He stands next to the bed awkwardly, like he’s unsure of himself.

I gesture to set the tray down on the nightstand and he does. I beckon him to me and his eyes light up, immediately sliding into the blankets. He lays his head on my bare chest, his hand coming up to idly play with my nipple. Which does nothing to quell the heat between my thighs.

“I’m great, Benny. Really. Did…how are you?”

He turns his head to look up at me, his eyes bright blue and wide. “I didn’t hurt you did I? I tried not to. I healed you after. But that moon just does things, and fuck you’re so hot, and I just couldn’t stop. It was like…”

“Like a pull you’ve never felt?” I finish for him.

He nods. “Yeah. Like I couldn’t not be inside you.”

“I felt the same way. I needed you to be with me, inside me, whatever. I just needed you to touch me.”

“It was probably the moon. It makes us all feel like putting babies in our mates. You probably felt it because of our bond.”

“Or maybe I felt it because I have a fucking hot ass husband who loves to turn me on.”

“Hhmm…” he says, his hand sliding down between my legs as they part for him, a gasp coming from me as he starts to slide his finger up and down me. “Is that so?”

“Mmhmm, y-yeah,” I whisper, my breathing getting more rapid as he swirls his finger around my clit.

“Well if that’s the case, sweetheart…” Benny removes his hand and starts to slide himself between my legs, winking at me before he disappears under the sheet.

“Today is all about you, sweetheart.” His voice is slightly muffled by the sheet.

“Benny, you don’t have to-”

“I was talking to this pretty pussy here. Now, let me make up for all the thrusting I did last night.”

—----

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe

@greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @icanbeyourjedi

@wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso

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@gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @booksarekindaneat @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox

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@mysterious-moonstruck-musings @heartpascalispunk

#benny miller #ben miller #benny miller x reader #benny miller x you #benny miller x f!reader #triple frontier #garrett hedlund #benjamin miller #benjamin benny miller #garrett hedlund x reader #garrett hedlund x you #garrett hedlund characters #garrett hedlund character fanfic #garrett hedlund character ff #garrett hedlund character fanfiction

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thefandomsfervent · 2 days ago

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JayVik x Reader Personal Pigments (Part 23) - Transparent Earth Yellow

Gala chapter coming soooon <3

Find my imagine that inspired it here. Previous and next chapter will be linked at the bottom.

not that I'm losing steam with this fic, but it has inpsired so many other things that i want to write too. This fic may enter a hiatus after a few more chapters so I can start other projects. Stay tuned and Thank you for reading <3

╔═*✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧-✦-✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧*═╗

As Mel said, there was an invitation later that week. A rich blue envelope and a golden wax seal delivered on top of a series of letters and books when Jayce walked into the lab. Viktor was first to see it, peeling the wax open with a screwdriver. He huffed as he read it, tossing the paper to the side.

“Ridiculous,” muttering under his breath. “We should not go Jayce, we have more important work to do than to flaunt our feathers.” Viktor speaks clearer there, his words sharp when he points to Jayce with the tool in his hand. Jayce doesn’t respond right away. Instead he goes to look at the invitation himself.

“To Talis and Co.,” He winces at that, his lips curling to the side and his brow furrowing.

“You have been invited to the Innovator’s Gala, an event centered around Piltover’s finest and brightest minds.” Jayce is reading it to you, as much disdain and sarcasm as that man could truly try to muster lacing his words. His finger pointed in the air like he is imitating some elderly man.

“Yes Jayce, I read it.” Viktor’s back is to you both when he speaks. “Help me with this equation.” He doesn’t see the way Jayce’s finger droops down, shoulders dramatically slumping. You can’t hide your giggle at Jayce’s pout. Viktor turns around at the sound, just in time to see you covering your mouth. Shaking your head when Jayce starts mimicking his partner, opening and closing his hand. He turns around to see Viktor’s deadpan face, a raised brow, and a smirk that only grows when your laughter gets louder.

“Mocking Jayce. How unbecoming. Truly, I am wounded.” He gestures for Jayce to give you the invitation with one hand, and tilts his head back to the board. Jayce hands you the paper, fingers grazing your own. He was so warm, and you can only hope that the burning of your cheeks could be chalked up to your laughing. He’s stifling his own when he joins Viktor, letting his partner jokingly shove the chalk into his chest.

It’s a thick parchment, barely holding itself open at the creases where it had been folded to fit into the envelope. Golden filigree at the corners and the symbol of Piltover embossed directly in the center top. It was good paper, expensive like all things were here. Viktor’s chalky fingerprints glinting softly as raised swirls around the edges. Jayce’s own were left in some barely there soot from his time in the forge that day. And now yours, in colorful pressed oils. It clashed against the paper, was too loud, if you had intended to leave a mark you would have chosen something more subtle. Instead of focusing on that you look over the words scrawled over the letter.

Your eyes quickly skim over text. It would be held in The Academy’s own event hall as a pre–cursor to the Young Innovator’s Competition that would be happening later on in the year for different inventors of Runterra to converge at. Despite what Mel had said, it seemed that it wouldn’t be where they would need to show off new inventions, but to mingle and talk and garner interest. The idea of them both in something nicer than mandated Academy outfits did sound promising. Imagining them in another environment than the lab, what would that be like? The closest you had been to seeing that was when Jayce had gotten drunk off the wine they chose to keep in a cabinet of the lab. You almost put down the letter to get back to your own work when something catches your eye. Thick golden letters in a different font, also embossed to make them stand out against the pale paper, gracing the bottom.

“This invitation is valid for three guests. Jayce Talis of House Talis, Assistant to the Dean of the Academy Viktor, and -” your name was there. The title they had given you was “Arts Institute Guest.” And something bubbles up in your chest. It was embarrassment and shock. It was anxiety and excitement. Mostly confusion. Their labels were so impressive, although you were sure they would both dislike the chosen words. Your own was so… plain. You were here as a guest after all, you knew that. But then why were you invited in the first place? Was this Mel’s doing? Would they want you to go? Did they even want to go? You brush a thumb over the words, silently questioning the characters as if they had any of the answers. All you get in reply is the printed date, the numbers defined in thin strokes. It was about three weeks out. The competition itself was several months away. The two men are talking amongst themselves. Drag of chalk along the board, the tapping on someone’s foot, gentle shuffling. Sounds that ground you.

You turn to the painting, you had left it by an open window to speed up the drying process. Summer was chasing Spring. Telltale signs of the season showing in heat waves distorting the horizon line as you looked out over the city. You let yourself settle against the frame, back on the wall and legs stretched forward. You hold the paper in one hand up to the window, letting the sun shine through the fibers. Letting the rays backlight the golden embellishments, turning that brilliant yellow to a dull glowing brown. You can see where the paper is thicker in some spots. It was smooth and high quality, but you can tell. “This was hand-made.” Your voice is quiet, and you are too focused on the craftsmanship before you to notice how Viktor and Jayce stop working to watch you. Your fingers feel the edges of the paper, deckled and soft, barely there fraying.

Viktor has talked with Jayce about it before, how it was not fair that there was no one to draw you. And in this particular moment it feels cruel. The moment felt intimate. Domestic. The edge of your face golden in the sunlight, eyes focused and calm, a rosy glow on your cheeks. Jayce has dabbled in sketching before. Shared his own small drawing of Viktor from their first encounters. It was crude, cute even. And Jayce would admit that he has tried to draw you too. But he couldn’t show that to you or to Viktor. So he takes the moment in, watching your eyes dart over the paper in your hand. Your attention to detail was endearing to him. To both of them. His affection for Viktor was overwhelming in a lot of ways. Caused his heart to jump to his throat, to stutter over words. With you it was warm and soft, like a hug. What either of them would give to walk behind you wrap their arms around you, settling their heads in the crook of your neck. When you start moving it startles them both, Jayce jumping in his spot and Viktor choosing to look at the books on the table.

Staring at the paper you hear Mel’s words, “Afraid of a challenge?” If she was the reason your name was on the invitation, you should go. Just to get out of this stuffy lab and do something new if nothing else. Certainly not to prove a point. That there was nothing you needed to be aware of. And that despite your nervousness, you do not back down from a challenge. Not as a Zaunite. Not as an artist. You set your shoulders, steel your breath, and turn to Jayce and Viktor.

“I’d like to go.”

╚═*✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧-✦-✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧*═╝

--.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙-Part 22-.-Next Part will be linked here.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .--

------------‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙· Master Fic List *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊--------------

#personal pigments #i think of them always #would y'all want other fics by me too or just this one #arcane #viktor arcane #fanfiction #viktor league of legends #fanfic #x reader #viktor lol #jayvik #jayvikmel #jayce talis #mel medarda #fluff #slow burn

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sturniololuv08 · 2 days ago

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TreeHouse Chapter 11

"Matty wants to see you in his room."

Summary: Matt gets angry.

"Anger is like hot blood rushing through your veins."

⚠️This Fic Series will NOT be for people with triggers. This Fic Series will have very descriptive moments of abuse.⚠️

Please Read At Your Own Risk.

Chris' POV:

She said she wouldn't let it go; honestly, I didn't want her to. But I knew the things she didn't. I knew if Matt found out I even talked to her, I would probably die. I thought about death often. Not in the sense I wanted to die necessarily but more so in the sense if it happened, I wouldn't be surprised anymore. I decided to walk home instead of taking the bus to help avoid Sienna—my Nessie.

I remember everything about her now. I accidentally trauma-blocked her. Leaving her behind, not knowing I wasn't going to see her for years, was the worst thing to ever happen to me. Worse than any beating I have ever taken. I remember that evening clearly. We got home, and Mom was livid that Father allowed me to go over there. She punished me by hitting me with the kitchen broom over and over. I begged our dad to help me, but I think that was his breaking point. He stopped being my father that day.

Since then, everyone in the house has treated me this way. I was alone. I lost everything. I held onto Nessie for a while. I imagined us playing together in the treehouse often. Sometimes, when Matt would use me as his personal punching bag, I would picture her doe eyes lighting up when I did something silly. She was my anchor until I forgot her. No matter how hard I try, I can't pinpoint the exact moment I forgot; I just did.

I was coming up to her house. I walked a little slower, secretly hoping she would see me and stop me. It's not that I didn't want to talk to her or be friends again. I didn't want the assaults that I knew would come with her friendship.

"Chris!" I looked up and saw her walking to the gate. I felt a sense of relief. "Can we talk?" She asked. I knew I didn't have much time to talk, but I wanted to. I needed to hear her voice.

"Not long, okay?" I just needed to be home at a decent time so no one got suspicious of my absence. She opened the gate, and I passed through. I followed her to the treehouse. For some reason, coming here during the day felt different. It felt heavier. She climbed up without issues. I tried my best not to show the pain in my arm, but I still winced enough for her to notice.

"What happened to your arm?"

"We can talk, but not about that." I was stern. She had to know not to press the issue.

"Okay." Her voice was soft and a little broken. I looked around the treehouse. Nothing had changed.

"It looks the exact same," I told her.

"I haven't been in here in years." She was also looking around like it was brand new.

"Why?" I asked.

"You left, and it just reminded me of you too much." I felt my words lumping in my throat. I wanted to tell her everything. I needed her to know it wasn't my choice to leave her behind. I never would have. But I couldn't. If this was still the same kind-hearted, strong-willed Nessie, I knew she would try to help, and it would just make it worse. I avoided looking at her.

"I'm sorry," I muttered. I could feel her eyes on me, but I couldn't bring myself to look up at her.

"Are you guys brothers?" She asked again. I felt the lump in my throat dissipate into tears. I needed to leave.

"I have to get home." I lied. Nothing pleased me more than not being at home.

"Chris, you can tell me." She reached for me and grabbed my hand, which made my skin crawl. I lurched away from the unwanted contact. She looked hurt.

"I have to get home," I said, starting to climb down. She followed me, as I expected.

"Chris, what happened to you?" She pleaded for an answer I couldn't give her no matter how badly I wanted to. I kept walking. Eventually, I heard her footsteps stop following behind me. I didn't dare look back at her. I felt like I already knew what she looked like. I made it to our house. On the outside, it was well-kept and looked nice. You'd never guess the hell that happened inside of it.

"What took you so long to get home?" Mother was right by the door in seconds.

"I wal -" She smacked my face. I looked down at the floor.

"I didn't say you could talk." Her threat didn't make sense since she asked me a question. I nodded, still not looking up. Part of me didn't like looking at her face. She was my mother, but her disdain for my presence distorted how she looked at me. I wanted to envision a mother who loved and cared for me just like Matt and Nick. She smacked the side of my head again for nothing. "Matty wants to see you in his room." Her words made my blood cold. I felt a jolt of fear sting through my body. I lifted my head to look at her now. "Fucking go." She pushed me towards the hallway leading to their rooms and my old one. I sulked slowly, knowing nothing about this was going to end well. I stood outside his bedroom door shaking. My whole body already felt light, and my head was full of air, ready to pop. I knocked, knowing I had no choice but to.

"Get in here." Nothing about his tone was calm. I could tell he was already mad about something. I stepped into the room. "Shut the fucking door." He was standing in the middle of his room with his arms folded. I quietly shut the door. I noticed Nick's absence, which meant this would be very personal. "Drop your bag." I knew I had to do everything I was told to do because if I didn't, then I would just get punished by Mom. I dropped the bag on the floor with a thud. "Why were you talking to Si today?" I was going to die. My eyes widened, realizing he had seen her chasing me around at some point.

"She talked to me." I tried to explain.

"Why the fuck did you talk to Sienna?" Matt's voice boomed, and I whimpered at the sudden volume change. I knew it didn't matter what I said. He wouldn't care.

"I used to know her," I told the truth.

"Well, you don't fucking know her anymore." He walked up to me and slammed my back against his door. "Got it?" Before I could respond, he grabbed my uncut, shaggy hair and started slamming my hand back into the wooden frame. "I asked you a question." He hissed.

"Yes, Matt. I won't -" He threw me to the ground. I turned over to see him walking over to me. He reared his foot back and kicked me right in the stomach. I curled up. This was it. He kicked me again and again. I felt the sole of his shoes kissing my blood vessels until they popped, creating purple splotches.

"Sienna is fucking my girl." He was carelessly aiming his kick but ensured his white shoes made contact with my body. I started coughing and groaning from the fire rising inside me. "If I see you talk to her again -" He kicked my mouth. My head lurched back from the decisive blow. I felt warm liquid start oozing. "I will fucking kill you." He screamed. I'm sure everyone in the house heard him. I knew it would be the worst whenever Nick wasn't involved with Matt's special attention towards me. He kicked my face again, and I felt the blood splatter like a flicked paintbrush. He kept going, stomping on me every once in a while when he felt like really putting the pain on me. I was feeling sick to my stomach. I felt like I was going to throw up from the immense pain. "I better not see you talk to her ever again." Matt gave me one last kick to the face. He left his room to go somewhere. I lay on the floor with my tiny blood pool and splatters. His blood stained shoes left red foot prints leading out the door.

I wanted to cry, but no tears came out. I couldn't breathe, and for the first time since ever being treated this way, I wanted to die. I lay in his room, uncomfortable, fearing his return. The door opened, and I couldn't even move to look and see who it was. I was picked up and dragged down the hall with my feet sliding against the floor. I was tossed in the tub with all my clothes still on. The water was turned on, and I was left alone. I felt something bubbling inside me, and I let it out of my mouth. The bile burned coming up. There were red blood streaks mixed in. The water imediately started washing it away. As soon as I felt myself catching my breath, my eyes became too heavy to keep open.

A/N I promise everything happening is for a reason lmaooo

TreeHouse Taglist:

@trevorsgodmother @mintsturniolo @wysmols @chriss-slutt @middlepartmatt @blushsturns @shadowtheism @fratbrochrisgf @loveparqdise @courta13 @sturniolo-fann @verstarkey @chrissweetheart @bluetalia @sturns-mermaid @wattttttttno @sturnioloshottiekay @pair-of-pantaloons @sophia-77n @adoremattsturns

This fic is TAGLIST SPECIFIC, meaning in order to be tagged in this, you HAVE to be on the list. I'm doing this because of TRIGGERS.

REBLOG INSTRUCTIONS: I don't mind just please stress the trigger warnings so no backlash comes back to me!

New Info: to be removed from the taglist just DM me.

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justanothermemestrider · 3 days ago

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Nothing Ever Stays Dead - Part 1

Gadriel x Childhood Friend OC

Inspired by @beckyninja ' Titus x Reader fics and @hatsubara-8chan' s Titus x Theia art. Thank you guys for giving me the confidence and inspiration to finally do something with my own oc :)

I know x reader stuff is my forte, but it would mean so much if you guys checked this series out too. It was super fun to write and I think you all will really enjoy it.

As always, apologies for grammar and spelling mistakes. While this part is sfw, some future parts will be nsfw but I'll note that up the top. Typical 40kness and violence, also I've just gone and made up an entire og backstory for Gadriel lol.

Hope you guys enjoy! And thank you so much for reading xoxox

Love, Memestrider :)

Ellicent sobbed into his shoulder, soaking his collar and staining it dark. She'd been like this for ages; she didn't know how many, but it was enough that the grimy windows in front of them had darkened to black slabs with the disappearance of the sun and rolling in of night. She felt embarrassed by it. Ashamed. Kids down here lost their parents all the time, and her Dad had been sick for a long time. Knowing that should've made it easier, but it didn't. Her heart was still shattered. Her soul split in half by a stake of grief and anguish. She sobbed like a baby. Like a weak thing that the Underhive should and would eat alive.

But he didn't seem to mind.

His grip was as gentle as it was tight, as if he were trying to wring the sadness from her very being. He stroked her hair, rubbed her back, let her hide her face in the crook of his neck.

"I'm sorry, Ellie," he said. He'd said it many times before, but this one was no less genuine or earnest. Ellicent's throat ached too much to reply, so she only shook her head.Tentatively, he drew away from her. Not enough to break their embrace all together: just enough so he could look her in the eye.

"You know we have to leave him here, right?"

Swallowing another sob, Ellicent nodded. Down here, there were no medical services or law enforcement to collect the dead: there were only scavengers and cannibals. They'd find her Dad eventually, but if they kept her Dad in here, he might stay safe for a little longer.

"I know," she said. "But... but what about me? I can't- I can't stay here."He answered without hesitation or thought. "You can come stay with me."

"Wha- what?"

"I know Mum will let you. And if she says no, I'll make her. But she won't say no. I know she won't."

A dozen questions sat on Ellicent's tongue, but she was either too tired or too sad to ask. Sinking into his arms again, she wiped her eyes on his shoulder. "Okay."

"It'll be okay, Ellie. I promise, it'll be okay." Ellicent closed her eyes.

"Thank you, Gadriel," she whispered.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Remind me," Chairon says, using the box so he could be heard over the rumble of the Thunderhawk. "Which xenos is our target supposedly allied with?"

Gadriel checks the slide of his bolter for the umpteenth time.

"The dark eldar," he replies. "Specifically, the pack that has made this planet their favoured hunting ground."

"What about the necrons?"

"What about them?"

"Did the briefing not state that Severus' gang often makes use of necron technology?"

"It did," Gadriel says. "But that technology is stolen. Pillaged from only the Emperor knows where."

Through the static of the vox, Chairon's scowl sounds particularly vicious. "Damned heretics. Have they no pride or dignity to speak of at all?"

"Of course they don't."

Gadriel looks to his left where Titus sits beside him. Like his and Chairon's, the face of the lieutenant's helm is cast as a mouthless, red eyed glare. Somehow, though, Titus' glare appears even more intimidating.

"Creatures like Severus are among the worst kind of heretic," he says. "Chaos can corrupt the unwilling. Mutancy can affect the innocent. But to work with the alien? To turn one's back on their own species? That is a choice. One that is made willingly, without coercion or subterfuge.

"An uneasy silence settles across the vox. For a long while, the only sound comes from the roar of the Thunderhawk's engine and the collective of the three Astartes' power armour. Eventually, Gadriel is the one to break it by clearing his throat.

"Forgive me for saying so, sir. But, it sounds as if you speak from experience."

Titus turns his head towards Gadriel. The dim bar lights lining the Thunderhawk's interior reflect sharply off the golden laurels welded around his helmet's crown.

"You remain as sharp as ever, brother," the lieutenant remarks. "And you would be right. Severus' gang is not the first group of xenos collaborators I've encountered."

He pauses for a second. "As I said, they are the worst kind of heretic. Worse than political dissenters or atheist zealots. By a long, long way."

Silence falls once more. This time, however, it is morose. Sober. Behind his helmet, Gadriel chews the inside of his cheek in thought. It's a habit he's had ever since he was a boy- one so innate, not even Astartes re-education could snuff it out. He's reviewing the mission briefing in his head. Specifically, the intelligence regarding their target. Archibald Severus- a rogue trader turned planetary crime lord. Typically, such a man would not be a concern for the Astartes- such things were usually handled by the Inquisition alone. But Severus has been particularly problematic; almost all of his people wield necron weaponry and his Drukhari allies have all but brought the planet to its knees. Also, the Ultramarines just so happened to be in the area. Fortunate for the people who live here, though not so much for Severus. The last thought amuses Gadriel enough to make him smile. Yes. Very unfortunate for him indeed.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The Thunderhawk drops the fireteam amidst the exterior district of a hive city. The street upon which it lands is wide, dusty and long abandoned. Blade and plasma scars line the walls of every surrounding building, reminders of the countless dark eldar attacks the city has endured over Severus' tenure here. The Astartes quite literally hit the ground running. Bolters in hand, their objective's location marker pulsing in the top centre of their heads up displays. The objective in question is a warehouse- once a hangar for Imperial Guard aircraft, now just as abandoned as the rest of the district. Severus will supposedly be there, though the exact reasons why are unknown. But that doesn't matter to Gadriel. If the man is there, he will die. As surely as the blood of the Primarch flows through Gadriel's veins, that traitorous xenos-sellout will die.

The warehouse in question emerges from around the next street corner. It looks like a giant concrete brick dropped in the middle of the district block. Gadriel falls in behind his brothers, covering the rear while Titus leads the way and Chairon covers their flanks from the centre. But the area is empty. As if the entire district had been evacuated or disappeared. Considering what this place has endured over the last several years, that is probably not far from the truth.

"Gadriel," Titus says over the vox, breaking Gadriel's reverie. "Auspex."

The team halts against a nearby wall. The warehouse is now directly in front of them. Moving in perfect unison, Gadriel switches position with Chairon. He sidles up beside Titus, takes one hand off his bolter to extract the Auspex scanner clasped to his belt. He holds the device up and studies the screen for several seconds.

"Motion detected," he reports. "Ten hostiles, one hundred and fifty metres ahead. Baseline, by the sizes of the pulse."

"One must be Severus," Chairon says.

"Hopefully," Gadriel replies.

"But not certainly," Titus says. The lieutenant says nothing more, but Gadriel hears his unspoken order nonetheless: maintain your guard.

Despite their size and weight, the Astartes move like panthers on the prowl. As it is still light outside, they stick to the shadows where they can. Reaching one of the warehouse's walls, the fireteam lines up, Gadriel in front with time with Titus and Chairon covering him.

"We will breach the wall here," Titus says. "Overwhelm them with speed and surprise."

Chairon and Gadriel both acknowledge the order with a curt "yes sir". Internally, however, Gadriel is somewhat amused by Titus' choice in tactics. *One would be forgiven for thinking we were White Scars. All we're missing are the jet bikes.*

Chairon moves in between his brothers. He holster his bolter to his hip before reaching for his belt and extracting a fist-sized breaching charge. He plants the explosive on the wall, primes it with a button press, then motions for Titus and Gadriel to stand clear. Gadriel crouches down on one knee. His secondary heart joins his primary in beating, flooding his body with adrenaline. He looks between his brothers. Both give him nods of acknowledgement. Chairon touches his forearm, ready to activate the charge. As his fingertip brushes the button, however, Gadriel's Auspex let's out a chime.

"Hold," Gadriel says before pulling up the scanner. He furrow his eyebrows in confusion.

"What is it?" Titus asks.

"The Auspex has changed. All but one of the pulses have vanished."

"Vanished?" Chairon asks.

"That's what I said."

"But how?"

"I do not know."

"It matters not," Titus growls. "Chairon, blow the charge n-"

Before he can finish giving the order, the wall explodes on its own.

The shockwave slams into Gadriel with the force of a meteorite. It throws him backward, knocking him off his feet, sending him rolling over his side before landing on flat on his front. All three of his lungs are emptied of air and his ears ring as if glass were being shattered inside his skull. Gadriel ignores it all. Recovering his footing with staggering ease before raising his bolter in the direction of the enemy.

Only he can see nothing. Just the charred concrete debris at his feet and a wall of thick black smoke. Even through his helmet's filters, the smell of it is choking. Like the polluted air of an Underhive amplified and condensed. Gadriel clenches his jaw.

A gas grenade. Only it exploded with the force of a breaching charge.

It has to be Severus. He must have known they were coming, that they were there. Gadriel curses to himself.

We were too loud. Too forward. Not cautious enough...

"Brothers! Status!" Titus' voice crackles over the vox. Gadriel whips around to try and find the lieutenant, but the damned smoke is too opaque. "Alive and unharmed," Gadriel hisses. "But can't see a damn thing."

"Acknowledged." By contrast, Titus' voice is calm and level. "Chairon? What's your status?"

No reply. A fury like fire ignites in Gadriel's chest. "Brother!" he shouts. "Are you there? Tell us where you are!"

A flash of light catches his peripheral vision. Gadriel spins to face it, snapping his bolter sights up as he does. It's small, but sustained, growing in luminosity with every second. But that isn't what makes Gadriel's breath hitch. It's the colour. A shocking, neon green. Too vivid to be natural, too bright to be electronic.

Gadriel's eyes widen. His thoughts scream a single, terrible name.

Necrons.

With an plasmic screech, the particle beam blazes towards him. It aims for his chest, right over his primary heart. Gadriel manages to twist out of the way in time, but not before the beams edge grazes the top of the aquillia on his breastplate. Gadriel aims his bolter in the direction the green light, only for it to vanish as he opens fire.

"Contact!" he shouts down the vox to Titus. "Necron weaponry confirmed!"

The light reappears on his left. Much closer than before. Gadriel fires upon it and he hears his bolter round sing as they slam into alien metal. He dive-rolls to the side, anticipating another particle beam. But no such shot comes. Instead, the light swells. Growing from a dot to a long, curved streak.

"Throne!" Gadriel hisses. Throwing his bolter into the holster on his thigh, he draws his power sword. Just in time to parry the crackling, green energy blade that comes careening towards his head. Both weapons spark and hiss when they make contact. Faster than a blinking eye, Gadriel surges forwards to slash at the arm holding the necron blade. But his opponent is quicker. Smoke swirling about them, they duck his attack before launching a kick at his knee. Pain spikes through Gadriel's leg and he feels his balance slip. It surprises him. There aren't many things that can kick out an armoured Astartes' knee.

A necron warrior, though, is definately one of them.

The energy blade comes for his head again. Gadriel throws his chin up to avoid it, but in the process looses what little balance he has left. He lands on his back hard, grunting as the last of the air in his lungs is forced out by the impact. In the same instant, his opponent is on top of him. Erupting from the smoke like a daemon from the Warp pinning him down by crouching on his breastplate.

Now close enough to see them through the smoke, Gadriel lays eyes on his attacker for the first time. What he sees, he can only describe as abominable. At first glance, they are human- female, from her shape and build- clad in tattered, studded leather characteristic of those from an Underhive. Her hair is a stunning shade of scarlet and she has it up in a pony tail so long it flows behind her like a cape of ribbons. But that is where all semblance of her humanity ends. Instead of a left arm, she has a robotic appendage, the clawed, green-veined forelimb of a necron warrior, with a green plasma blade bursting from its knuckles. The same is true of her right leg, the foot of which is pressed savagely into Gadriel's chest, strong enough to keep the Astartes pinned. A necron rifle- the source of the particle beams, surely- hangs from a strap looped across her back.

Hatred contorts Gadriel's face into a snarl. Abandoning his power sword he reaches for his bolter, which is still holstered to his thigh. Wrenching the weapon free, he throws it up just as the cyborg-abomination above him raises her energy blade. Her face, too, is twisted into a snarl.

Time suddenly slows. Gadriel's finger stops shy of the trigger.

Her face...

Hatred turns to confusion turn to shock. His thoughts are a racing, jumbled mess. His mouth opens without him realising and he hears his own voice. It speaks a name he hasn't heard in over fifty years.

"... Ellie?"

The cyborg freezes. The snarl on her lips dies.

"G- Gadriel?"

Both of Gadriel's hearts stop. His mind is simultaneously paralysed and raging like a warpstorm. His bolter falls from his hand, clattering off his breastplate to land beside him. Gadriel doesn't even notice.

"Sergeant!" a voice bellows over the vox.

Sparks suddenly burst from the woman's back. As quickly as it had vanished her snarl returns. Leaping off Gadriel, she whips around. Her energy blade retracts into her arm and she reaches for her rifle. Gadriel turns his head to see Titus charging for them with his bolter raised.

The woman hesitates. Glances at Gadriel. Behind his visor, Gadriel meets her gaze. His eyes become wide and watery.

It can't be.

More of Titus' rounds slam into her, this time pinging off her necronian arm. She staggers backward, dropping her rifle so it's swinging limp against her hip. Another moment of hesitation. Gadriel opens his mouth to call her name again. But before the word can leave his lips, she's moving again. Turning her back and vanishing into the smoke screen. When it finally fades, there is no sign of her. Not even a drop of blood.

Gadriel swallow thickly. A lump has formed in his throat, large enough to make it difficult for him to breathe.

"Brother!" Titus clasps his arm, hauling Gadriel up into a sitting position. "Are you alright? Are you wounded?"

Gadriel says nothing. He doesn't remember how to speak. Nor can he even see his brother kneeling beside him. The only thing his mind can see is her. The day her father died. The day on the rooftop. The night they had spent together in her bed.

"Promise me you'll come back."

"I promise."

"I love you."

"I-"

"Brother?" The concern in Titus' voice is palpable now. "Gadriel. Can you hear me?"

Gadriel finally looks at the lieutenant. He nods, but still refuses to speak. He doesn't trust himself to. He's afraid that if he did, he might start to weep.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

That's it! I hope you liked it! The first part of any story is always kinda slow, since you gotta set everything up, but I tried my best to keep things moving fast-like.

Thank you again for reading xoxoxoxo

Part 2 will be up in a few days probably. Hopefully I'll see you all then :)

Update: pssst, you can read part 2 here!

Tag list: @yurihasurunbara @beckyninja @nereidof40k @hatsubara-8chan @moodymisty @solspina @jaghatai-khock @lemon-russ @wolf-feathers12 @egrets-not-regrets

#warhammer 40k #space marines #demetrian titus #gadriel #sergeant gadriel #ultramarines #adeptus astartes

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mister-mickey · 3 days ago

Text

Word of god

(This is going to be a VERY long post so buckle up)

Word of god is a phrase used in fandom that refers to something that the author of the source material has said, but was never confirmed in the source material. Because it was never confirmed in the original material, it isn’t considered canon. However, word of god is basically the next step down from canon.

This means that while you can choose to ignore it, you can also choose to accept it.

In the outsiders fandom, there are certain “word of god” type things floating around. Think soda going to Vietnam (and then that being retconned) or Johnny’s legal name being John. Even Dallas being scared of spiders, of crying after he read little women, of Steve enjoying wearing women’s underwear (?).

These are all examples of word of god. They were not mentioned in the outsiders book, but they are all things S.E Hinton has said on her twitter and in other places.

I’m only sharing the definition because what a lot of people never seem to talk about (possibly because they don’t know or because they don’t know how to access it) is S.E Hinton’s fanfiction. I think a lot of people would enjoy learning about some of the other things S.E Hinton has said about the characters. (Keep in mind, on her ffn account, she claims to not be S.E Hinton, but using the details she’s shared about her fanfiction in interviews, it’s pretty obvious that this is her account)

Just keep in mind, none of this is canon unless you personally want it to be. Don’t harass other people for accepting or not accepting any of this as canon. Fandom is supposed to be fun, and that includes letting other people make their own personal spaces and headcanons.

I’m going to share all of her outsiders fics here (as in, I’m going to link them so others can read them too) and then I’m going to share every detail that I noticed. If you read them and notice things I missed or didn’t talk about, PLEASE REBLOG WITH THOSE THINGS!

First fic- The Haircut, published in 2008. This takes place after their parents die but there is no mention of Johnny or Dallas, so it could be before or after their deaths

- Pony cuts his brothers’ hair (or at least Soda’s) probably because they can’t afford a professional haircut

- Either pony is really bad at it (possible, as seen in the book with Johnny) or Soda is incredibly dramatic

- Darry checks pony’s homework

- Pony is not great at math but does well in English, however he still misspells things (which makes the fact that he judges sodas spelling or grammar in the letter soda sent in the outsiders very funny)

- Soda is likely very forgetful (he forgot that he left the iron on and burnt a hole on his work uniform)

- This is something we could have figured out anyway because of the time period, but it’s implied that their mother would have been the one cutting their hair and ironing their clothes.

Second fic- The first Christmas After, published in 2008 (shortly before Christmas too, on December 14) this takes place after their parent’s death and after Johnny and Dally’s death.

- The Curtis brothers are willing to forgo tradition in order to save money (Darry says they agreed on no Christmas tree and mentioned avoiding getting a turkey for thanksgiving, even though they ended up getting one anyway because Darry’s job gave it to them)

- Soda apparently is not actually a decent cook. People like to headcanon that his cooking tastes okay and just looks funny or tastes a bit too sweet, but apparently soda seriously fucked up the turkey.

- Twobit is willing to eat gross stuff (he ate the turkey and darry jokes twobit would willingly eat cat shit)

- The Christmas tree is also free, like the turkey. Soda got it at work. I guess the Curtis brothers are pretty lucky, or they have jobs that kind of care about them (wild idea)

- I think this was mentioned in the book, but Darry is very casual about drinking. He grabs a beer after work.

- The real reason Darry didn’t want a tree is because he knows it’ll be upsetting to do christmassy stuff without their parents.

- Darry will shove his feelings down to try and make the holidays enjoyable for his brothers

- Steve has a mother who is active in his life. This is crazy to me because everyone just kind of assumed he didn’t have a mother. I will continue to deny her existence though lol

- Steve’s mother cares enough about the Curtis boys to send Steve over with some fudge.

- The Curtis brothers have their own ornaments. Soda’s is a car colored like a candy cane, Darry’s is a reindeer holding a football, and pony’s is an elf reading a book. The ornaments were from their father.

- There’s a joke that I think I’m not catching? I think it’s twobit saying that he called a girl a ho, but it might be innocent? I’m not the best with tone. He’s making a Santa Claus joke

- Twobit likes eggnog (gross) and shares it with soda. The eggnog has whiskey in it, which is what gets Steve interested in drinking it.

- The Curtis brothers had a dog named bowser, who also had an ornament. Bowser was a present for Darry’s fourth birthday. Darry assumed he was the only one that remembered bowser, but soda claims to remember him too. I guess this means bowser died when soda was very little. Possibly before pony or when pony was a baby.

- A lot of the Christmas ornaments are crafts that the Curtis boys made at school. (Aww) Darry and soda grew up faster than Ponyboy did, apparently pony was willing to do kid stuff longer than they were (they stopped wanting to make crafts by middle school but pony did them even after) Darry thinks it’s because their mom wanted to keep her baby a baby.

- The boy’s personalities show in the ornaments they made, Darry’s are well structured and planned, but with zero imagination. Sodas are sloppy and not great, but hold character. Pony’s are said to be eye catching and imaginative.

- Pony is supposed to call Darry from a pay phone if he realizes he’s going to be late for curfew. Pretty solid rule, I think

- Mr. Curtis wasn’t actually better at understanding people than Darry is. The main difference seems to be Mr. Curtis’s patience in dealing with people he doesn’t understand. Darry compares himself to his dad

- Their mother and father also have ornaments! Their mother is an Angel playing the piano (considering the other ornaments, we can assume their mother knew how to play piano) and their dad’s is a Santa going fishing (I guess he liked to fish)

- This is basically canon anyway, but pony was too skinny and frail after Johnny and dally died

- Soda is lactose intolerant. This does not stop him from consuming lactose. He is kind and sleeps on the couch when he does so that pony doesn’t have to listen to him farting all night (disgusting)

- Darry understands soda even if soda doesn’t say anything. So I guess Darry not understanding pony isn’t because pony is quiet and doesn’t tell him anything

- They have ornaments for Johnny and dally. Johnny’s is a little dark haired Angel singing a hymn, and Dally’s is a little devil with wings and a halo with an evil smirk.

- Johnny doesn’t like cutesy things. He is a greaser, he’s still tough. They all decide that Johnny and Dallas would like if they saw their ornaments.

- Joking about Johnny and dally makes the gang a little happier. Even after death, they bully Dallas a bit because they miss him (the hang him at the top of the tree 😭💔 and they giggle about looking up his ornaments skirt)

- Dallas would allegedly have set fire to the tree if he was there and saw them doing that

- Steve has a bunch of cousins in Muskogee Oklahoma, as well as an Uncle Bob

- Twobit’s sister is named Bren. Twobit is close with his grandmother and is visiting her for Christmas. He is going to give her whiskey for her present because his mom doesn’t let her have it.

- Soda likes to attack his brothers with tickles

The third fic- The Drive North, published in 2007. This is the longest fic, and it’s an au. I have several disclaimers I think I should make before I talk about it.

Disclaimer one- this is a Wild West au, it takes place in the late 1860s. Because it’s an au, there are some things that don’t really translate to canon. I will be sharing things that are canon to this fic, and maybe expanding how I think they’d fit into canon, but just remember, they do not fit perfectly

Disclaimer two- some of the things changed directly contradict canon. Several of the characters go by different names, some of them even have the wrong ages (I originally assumed everyone was the same age as in canon, but then mason and Tex from Tex showed up and they were ten years older than everyone else which doesn’t make sense because Tex takes place in the 70s and they should be younger than the gang), and some of the characters have pretty different back stories (the Shepard siblings are orphans in this and they’re being raised by their grandfather. This contradicts canon because in That was then, this is now, they are said to have their mother and a stepfather)

Name changes

- Steve is called pistol

- Angela is called Angelique

- Twobit is called Two bits, and his real make was changed from Keith to Eugene.

- Dallas is called White snake, which leads me to my next, and the most important, disclaimer

Disclaimer three- there is a lot of racism in this fic. Mostly weird Native American representation. This mostly comes from Dallas and Tim, but basically dallas is a white child that was kidnapped by native Americans and was then raised by them. Tim’s parents were killed by native Americans (which is of course a thing that happened back then, but I don’t think it’s written very well) These are common racist tropes, and I think it would do people good to be aware of that if they choose to read this fic.

There is also a few brief references to slavery and the civil war, and off the top of my head, I don’t think any of the characters were particularly against slavery. So if you want to read this, be aware of that so you don’t get caught off guard. There’s also a few slurs/incredibly outdated terms

I think thats the end of the disclaimers, if anyone else thinks of something I should add, tell me. I think this fic is an interesting look into the characters, but I don’t want people going in blind and unaware of the negative aspects of this fic

- The Shepard’s grandpa is named Philippe Shepard (Shepard is spelled different several times through the story, so is Philippe) he is fairly well off, I don’t think he’s rich, but he is successful. He has a Spanish gelding which is a fancy horse. Darry is jealous of him. Philippe is a former Texas ranger and he is very strict and good at bossing people around

- The Curtis brothers are doing a cattle drive under Philippe’s supervision. He’s their boss basically

- Soda’s real name is actually Patrick in this, and “Soda” is short for Sodacrackers because he likes hardtack.

- Everyone loves soda. Just looking at him makes people feel good

- Pony was a solemn baby that liked to study his surroundings. He was only silly when he was around horses, which is where he got the nickname Ponyboy. (His real name is Michael)

- Pony and soda are uncannily good with horses, which is why Philippe Shepard hired the Curtis brothers. Darry seems to really admire Philippe actually, he doesn’t shut up about that old man

- Curly Shepard is described as a hot-head, who doesn’t seem particularly skilled because he’s riding drag. This is the worst position to take because the dust gets kicked up at you. Curly was very upset about getting that position

- The Curtis parents died at different times in this. Their mother seems to have died of some sort of sickness because her death is described as “lingering”. Their dad went off to war (the civil war, on the confederate side. This does not make me fond of Mr. Curtis) when Darry was fifteen.

- Philippe Shepard does not support slavery. He also seems to have an anti-war stance. At least for himself. He says he won’t get his head blown off so people can own slaves. Philippe Shepard fought against the Mexicans and the Comanche at some point, and has enough experience with war to know he doesn’t like it

- Ponyboy has a paint pony

- Pony cried after he said good bye to the lake (the Curtis brothers are leaving their house for good) because he spent a lot of time at the lake. Darry seems embarrassed of him for that

- Pony wears soda’s hand me downs, but they still don’t fit him because he’s scrawny.

- Pony is tough physically, but incredibly emotional

- Soda has a chestnut mustang horse

- The Curtis brothers will be relatively well off after the drive. Darry plans on sending Pony to a school so he can put his book smarts to use and live in a society where that stuff matters

- The first chapter is repeated twice lmfaooo

- Two bit does not like Philippe. Philippe also uses flattery to get his way lol

- Twobit is the cook, which I guess means in canon he could be a decent cook too. He learned how to cook from his mom

- Mr Shepard is in love with Twobits mom 😭

- Mr Shepard also uses his money to get his way

- Twobit’s sister is named Lizzy in this one. Either he has a shit ton of sisters, or his one sister does not have a decided name

- Mr Shepard does not approve of ms Mathews babying Twobit. His eye twitches when she says he’s “just a boy”

- The Curtis brothers are said to have sold their eggs to make money

- Johnnys name is John, and he’s named after his father. So he’s John jr. He’s also called “little John Cade” 😭😭❤️❤️ and he’s going to be twobit’s assistant

- Dallas is their scout/interpreter. Original when I read this, I thought Dallas was actually Native American and I thought that was interesting. But no, he’s just a White guy that was raised that way. I think native Dallas would be very cool to see though, becuase I hate the trope of white people being raised by native Americans instead of people just writing native Americans

- Twobit is lazy. He doesn’t like getting up early or walking

- Mr Shepard does NOT think twobit is funny. I think he might actually hate him

- Mr Shepard spanks his grandkids and he makes sure to tell everyone. He also seems fully willing to spank other peoples kids too (he threatens twobit) He is very strict with his grandkids. He says he uses a quirt, I looked that up and it looks scary

- Mr Shepard is genuinely mean asf, and he seriously doesn’t like twobit oh my god

- Mr Shepard is seriously down bad for ms Mathews. He hates twobits dad 😭 he even calls the dude worthless

- Twobit’s dad was a sweet talking drummer who only stayed around long enough to give her kids

- Philippe has dark eyes and white hair

- Philippe was present when twobit got the nickname twobit. I think twobit isn’t particularly proud of his nickname.

- People don’t seem to like Dallas. I’m not talking other people, even the gang seems kind of uncomfortable around him. Also the gang isn’t a gang. I don’t think they’re necessarily even friends here.

- Curly is confirmed to be just a nickname. His real name is not shared

- Twobit got his nickname when he was ten. Instead of it meaning that he has a big mouth and will give his “two bits” to any conversation, it means that he’s so useless that you wouldn’t give “even two bits for him”. The twobit lovers can feast on any angst that provides. It explains why he doesn’t like his nickname in this

- Twobit’s little sister worships him and his mother adores him

- Another reference to Mr Shepard having a big old crush on Twobit’s mom 😭 this point is really being driven home, and it takes twobit a while to realize. He is horrified when he dies and almost drops a barrel on Johnny 😭

- Jesus Christ Philippe won’t stop threatening people. He says “every pound lost is money out of my pocket, and I catch anyone taking money out of my pocket there's going to be an inch off his hide.” Which curly confirmed is true and not just a phrase.

- Pony doesn’t give a fuck about cows. He calls them meat on hooves 😭

- Pony, pre fic, never liked going into town and didn’t like people. I don’t think he’s friends with Johnny (yet)

- Darry likes talking to people and sharing his opinions. He’s respected in their town

- Pony doesn’t think he’ll ever grow as big as Darry or soda. I find this interesting because I always just assumed he was small because he was younger.

- Pony prefers animals to people

- Pony likes to watch people instead of talk to them. This is already kind of canon, but it’s funny to hear him talk about it

- Darry has to ride big horses because he’s a big boy. It’s also implied that he’s still growing?! Apparently he’s still filling out into his frame. How fucking big is he going to get jfc

- Soda likes pretty horses, but he’s smart enough to pick horses based off of their speed

- Steve and curly both like hot (I’m assuming wild) horses. The difference is Steve can handle it, curly can’t. Curly got thrown off his horse 😭

- Tim and his grandpa both ride the fancy Spanish horses. They’re very pretty but pony feels tired just looking at them because of how jittery they are. But they never get tired

- Tim and his grandpa are long boned? I think this means tall? Or maybe they have long limbs lol. They’re also said to be heavy muscled. I don’t know if that contradicts Tim’s description in the outsiders, where he’s described as lean. I don’t know if heavy muscled means bulky, but it feels like it would? Tim can be lean and still muscular but the way it’s written makes him sound pretty different from the book

- Curly is convinced that he’s going to have one of the fancy horses one day, but Tim and Mr Shepard think he’s stupid for thinking that. So I guess he probably won’t. In their family, you have to earn a fancy horse, and curly hasn’t earned one yet

- Dallas rides a white horse that he stole.

- Buck Merrill is the sheriff? I find that very interesting because he was just a party guy in the outsiders

- Dallas is wearing a breechcloth, but sometimes wears pants. He also wears eagle feathers and face paint. I don’t know if that means anything. He is said to be Comanche (or at least associated with them)

- Dallas cut off Johnnys dad’s ear and wears it on his belt as a trophy. He did this because Johnnys dad was beating Johnny, so I guess they’re still close in this fic

- Everyone can sense Tim and Dally’s tension (it’s not sexual, it’s worse) and they are placing bets on who will fight who first

- Steve claims Dallas grabbed a creature off the ground and ate its head off

- Dallas has a sweet tooth

- Dallas only really talks to Johnny

- Johnnys dad is a blacksmith, and he’s huge.

- Twobit is a gossip, he makes sure he knows ALL the goings on. Every day he takes a one hour walk across the town to see everything

- Johnnys dad is suspected to have hearing loss and a bad temper

- Johnny got his scar from his dad back handing him with a hoof file (this is the event that caused Dallas to cut Mr cades ear off)

- Ever since then, Johnny has had less bruises

- The younger people on the job get to have more sleep 🥺 tim and darry work early in the morning and late at night because of that

- Angela snuck along 😭 she wants to be treated like Tim and curly so she has been following them for the past few days. Mr Shepard is PISSED

- Mr Shepard’s scoldings have caused tears among many people, including Angela

- Mr Shepard CARRIES THE QUIRT AROUND to to threaten people

- Angela is just as good at riding and shooting as curly but not as good as Tim.

- Angela was meant to stay home and have sewing lessons while her family did the cattle drive

- Angela either dislikes doing girly things like sewing, or she just prefers doing horse stuff. I can’t tell if she’s meant to be a tomboy, which I feel doesn’t necessarily fit with her character in twttin, or if she just thinks sewing lessons are boring.

- Dallas knew Angela was sneaking around, which means he is sneakier than Angela Shepard.

- Mr Shepard would 100% beat Dally’s ass which is notable because so far he’s respected Dallas a lot as an adult. He’s very upset that Dallas knew Angela was there and didn’t say anything

- Tim and curly are said to play pranks on angela which is why she’s so sneaky and suspicious

- Dallas cut off a piece of Angela’s hair. This is strange to me because he didn’t have a reason to do that? In the fic he uses it to prove that he was watching her, but how was he supposed to know he needed to prove that? Why did he cut a lock of her hair? Freak

- Dallas calls Angela a scrawny prairie chicken? So I guess she’s small and skinny.

- Tim ends up being the one to start a fight between him and Dallas

- I think Dallas enjoys making Tim angry enough to start the fights. It makes sense to me tbh, it’s very funny and I think it fits with canon. Dallas slashed Tim’s tires in the book, and I guess he did that to get his attention

- Tim is racist, and this plays a part in his hatred for Dallas. It’s apparently because his parents were killed by native Americans, but Mr Shepard says that he needs to stfu because Dallas had nothing to do with that.

- Dally’s real family had a terrible fate and I think they were killed in either the same raid that killed Tim’s parents, or another one close to that one.

- The Shepards mom’s name is Antoinette and she had a fate worse than death. I say this because Mr Shepard says he wished he was there to put a bullet in her head to spare her from what happened to her. He doesn’t say what happened, but I guess it was pretty awful.

- Tim likes to punch and grapple, Dallas likes to dodge and kick

- They aren’t friends of any sort like in the book, there’s no “cut from the same cloth” here

- Curly, soda, and Steve would have been cheering and whooping if they’d been present, but they’re elsewhere at this time

- Pony and his brothers fight sometimes, but they usually give up pretty quick because Darry gets embarrassed fighting with teenagers, soda starts laughing, and pony will start crying out of frustration

- TIM PULLED A GUN ON DALLAS

- Curly almost shot his toe off practicing his fast draw, which led Mr Shepard to ban it 😭

- Tim, his siblings, and Dallas were all very young when their parents died. No specific age is given, but Philippe says they were all very little

- Philippe is their paternal grandfather (obviously) but he saw their mother as his own daughter and apparently she was very egg beautiful. He seems more sad about her death than his own son’s death

- Tim has an impressive fast draw

- Mr Shepard defends Dallas against Tim and says that he needs to cool it with the anti-native American talk. He says he understands why they’re all mad white people are in their lands. This doesn’t stop him from taking the land though.

- Angela is now riding drag as punishment so curly gets promoted I guess.

- Twobit exaggerates stories and Tim clips them too short. Pony is the best storyteller

- Pony doesn’t know what a “sporting woman�� (a prostitute) does until soda explains it

- Pony understands sex, he just doesn’t understand why anyone would ever have it for fun lmfao

- Steve got his ass beat by his dad for wasting his wages on prostitutes 😭 I guess his dad does get physical with him

- Pony says if Steve knew half as much as he thought he did, he’d be the most valuable person on earth 😭

- Pony thinks sex is gross and begs soda not to have sex (soda refuses and says he’s gonna do what he wants)

- Darry really enjoys not being in charge. He likes that Philippe is in charge because then he isn’t responsible for his brothers. He hates babysitting and pretends not to see pony nonverbally begging him to come with him into town so he isn’t alone

- Mr Shepard calls pony and Johnny the youngest, but I know that in the outsiders curly is fifteen, so he’s in between them. Either curly is a different age in this fic, or Mr Shepard doesn’t see him as an individual person (which now that I’m typing that out, I think that’s probably the case)

- Johnny doesn’t like lots of people. As in crowds

- Darry makes pony and soda take at least one bath a month. Stinky boys

- I think pony and Johnny have become friends now, they’re naturally drawn to each other

- Pony yelps runs away from a prostitute because she talked to him? I don’t think the situation called for that? He seemed genuinely terrified and Johnny just followed him

- Neither of them know what the clap is, Johnny thinks they were going to “get clapped” 😭

- Pony likes cats but can’t have one because the coyotes will eat it (very sad, one of my cats got eaten by a coyote ☹️)

- Pony cries when he’s scared

- Twobit won thirty dollars playing a game (he told the people he’d give them a chance to win it back the next day, while knowing that he wouldn’t be there the next day 😭) that’s about 700 dollars today

- Steve tries to look cool in front of soda omgg

- Steve also seems jealous of how naturally cool soda is. He’s upset with himself for being jittery around the prostitutes when soda is so calm and charming

- Steve has a mustache 😒 he grew it out to look older and he fiddles with it subconsciously

- Soda is insecure about “just being charming and handsome” because it isn’t something he had to work for

- Soda immediately started venting to the prostitute ?

- Soda immediately talked about marriage with this prostitute, he hasn’t even done anything with her and he’s already in love with her

- He gave her his entire wage… he gave her TWENTY FIVE DOLLARS and told her to wait for him oh my god

- He saw her flirting with other guys and immediately thought about KILLING HER what the fuck

- THE OTHER GUYS WERE TIM AND DARRY!!

- They were described as tall cowboys so I guess that’s means Tim and Darry are both tall

- Philippe is sick of these teenagers. They all spent their money on dumb shit and he’s judging them hardcore

- Tim and Darry have become best friends at some point, they keep giggling with each other

- Curly gave himself alcohol poisoning the second he had access to alcohol which is kind of funny to me. Either he’s a serious drunk or he’s so inexperienced with alcohol that he die at know what a limit is. I don’t drink at all so I don’t know which makes more sense. I’m leaning towards the second one because of the way he’s characterized in this fic

- Steve gets mad when soda is sad, not mad at soda, just mad in general

- Tim and Darry became bffs because they ROBBED A POKER GAME WITH GUNS! ARMED ROBBERY! They did this to save twobit from being fired after twobit spent money that wasn’t his, which is kind of sweet of them.

- Curly is sad because he was trying to get the guys to enter a brothel (part of the reason he was drinking so much) and got so drunk that he woke up in an alleyway with all his money gone 😭. He laid in rant alley for a day and a half before Tim came and found him 😢 (my stupid son)

- Soda is embarrassed about falling in love with the first woman he saw

- Steve is mad all the time, and soda doesn’t understand how he does it. Soda finds anger exhausting

- Tex and mason are very… ?? Again, they’re ten years older than the gang, instead of ten years younger. They’re both bearded and wild. They live in the middle of nowhere and say that god has abandoned them. Tex says he shot mason to make him shut up

- Nobody has been sick yet except curly, so they have plenty of medical stuff

- Johnny compares Dallas to a knight in this (instead of a gallant soldier in the book)

- Tex says he shot mason because mason gave him a bad cup of coffee. They’re very strange

- Curly broke his pinky finger oh my god (I have to be honest and say everything curly does makes me giggle because he does so much stupid stuff. My baby broke his pinky 😭😭😭❤️❤️)

- Steve cracked his tail bone when his horse escaped, and Darry got bad rope burn

- Philippe likes Sodapop. He does think soda is tiring though

- Tim values the adoration and hero worship from curly and Angela to be too mean to them. He pretends to be indifferent to them, which fools everyone except Philippe (awww)

- Tex and mason are crazy, they talk so much trash and they’re so mean to each other. It gives everyone else a shock

- Angela has a crush on Tex, who is supposed to be around 24 ish. Tex has no plans on doing anything with her thank god

- Angela wanted to be a tomboy because boys got more attention, but now that she desires boys attention, she acts more feminine. This is masons insight because Angela starts acting sweet and precious the second she starts liking tex

- Tex became friends with everyone within a few days of them joining

- Curly is good enough at roping to teach Tex how to do it. It’s nice seeing him be good at something

- Tex took herding lessons from Tim and Darry

- Darry and soda mess with pony enough for him to be suspicious when people tell him things

- Dallas keeps doing things to piss Tim off (he whacked him in the head with a stick and rode off on his horse before Tim could do anything)

- Tim “doesn’t find anything humorous in anything white snake (Dallas) does” and is very grumpy when Dallas does something to make people laugh

- The story ends on a cliffhanger but that’s it

Anyway, take what you want from these fics as canon and disregard anything you don’t want lol

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