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captainsophiestark · 1 year ago

Text

Unexpected Guest

Dick Grayson x Reader

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Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: DC

Summary: Dating a vigilante sometimes leads to a few false alarm scares, but Dick Grayson couldn't be happier with how well his partner rolls with his crazy family.

Word Count: 1,410

Category: Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

Crash!

My eyes shot open at the sound of a noise from the living room of the apartment I shared with my boyfriend, Dick Grayson. The man in question still snored peacefully next to me, annoyingly, but a quick glance at the clock told me why. It wasn't quite 5am, and Dick had been out patrolling until one in the morning. I listened carefully for any other noises in the apartment. I didn't want to wake my poor boyfriend up unless I absolutely had to.

After a few minutes of nothing, I heard another crash followed by a tense voice and what sounded like hushed swearing. This time, I didn't hesitate to roll over and whack Dick on the chest, hard.

His eyes shot open and he was half sitting up when I managed to throw a hand over his mouth to keep him from giving away that we were awake. My wide eyes must've tipped him off to something being wrong, because I immediately saw him shift from sleepy to ready for action.

Slowly, I dropped my hand from his mouth and leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"There's someone in our living room. I heard two crashes and someone swearing."

Dick nodded once, then motioned with his hands while mouthing 'stay here'. He hopped off the bed, grabbing his escrima sticks from where he'd thrown them onto the dresser, then stalked towards the door with catlike grace and stealth. After a minute, I decided I couldn't just let him go alone, superhero or no, so I grabbed the bat I kept by my side of the bed and followed after him.

Dick popped out the door, and after a moment without hearing anything, I followed, bat at the ready. I found my boyfriend with one hand on his hip, weapons down, staring into the kitchen. I followed his gaze to find none other than Jason Todd in our kitchen, a mixing bowl and some eggs in front of him and a look with a significant lack of guilt on his face.

"What? I was after somebody and it dragged me all the way to Bludhaven. I needed a place to crash that was closer than Gotham."

Dick and I both shook our heads. As the oldest of a very high number of siblings, his apartment had become a second home base for every single other batkid. When we'd finally moved in together last month, he'd warned me I needed to be prepared for things like this.

"Glad you know to help yourself, Little Wing," said Dick with a sigh, waving one tired hand to Jason before turning and heading back to bed. I squeezed his shoulder and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek as he passed me, then headed into the kitchen with a smile.

"My tax for you making me think I'd have to fight off an assailant with a bat at five in the morning is my own serving of whatever you're making," I said, taking a seat on one of the kitchen island stools. Jason raised an eyebrow at me.

"You're not going back to bed?"

"Nah. Unlike Dick, I got to bed at a somewhat reasonable hour last night, so the adrenaline dump isn't threatening to put me to sleep. I'd rather hang out with you, especially since you're a better cook than Dick and I combined. I'm not missing out on that."

Jason snorted, cracking an egg and resuming his cooking all the same.

"Dick contributes nothing to your combined cooking score," he said. "I'm pretty sure he's burned cereal before."

I laughed. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure you're right. He's gotten better though. We watch the Food Network and look up recipes to make together, and I can trust him with way more than I used to be able to."

"If you could teach him anything it'd be a miracle," said Jason with a snort. I just hummed, trying to pick up some new skills of my own as I watched Jason cook.

"To be totally fair to him, I once forgot what I was doing and strained soup because I was on autopilot for pasta."

Jason barked a laugh, unable to hold himself back, and looked at me with a grin and a raised eyebrow.

"Really?" I nodded. "That's pathetic."

I just shrugged. "Yeah. But at least there's not a lot of places to go but up, after that."

"I guess so."

Jason and I chatted as he cooked and I watched, keeping our voices low so Dick could sleep—although, after the night he'd had, he'd probably sleep through a train in our living room. After breakfast, Jason decided to go down for a nap on the couch, passing out almost as soon as we'd put the last few dishes in the sink. I just smiled, threw a blanket over him, and wandered back into the bedroom to find Dick.

It was late enough in the morning now that my boyfriend was officially up and about, stretching by the bed with his hair still a little messed up from sleeping. I grinned and flopped down against the headboard as he crossed the room to the dresser to pull out clothes.

"How's Jaybird?" he asked. "Still a good cook?"

"Still a great cook. And he's good. He seems a little wiped out from patrols and stuff, though. He's taking a nap on the couch right now."

Dick smiled and shook his head. "I get up and he goes to sleep. Typical."

"Clearly he's avoiding you."

"Clearly."

Dick and I shared a smile, and then he sighed.

"I'm going to take a shower. Hopefully Jason will be up by the time I'm out, because I actually have things to do today."

I smiled, shifting on the bed to pull the covers over myself. "I'm sure you can be quiet if he's not. Wake me up when you're out of the shower, okay? A post-breakfast nap sounds too good to resist right now."

My boyfriend laughed. "Alright, will do. I'll wake you and Jason up when I'm out."

"Mhm. Good luck with him."

"Thanks, I'm gonna need it."

I closed my eyes, getting comfortable and ready for my nap, but before I drifted off I heard Dick's shuffling footsteps crossing the room to stand by my side of the bed. A second later, he sat down next to me, the bed dipping under his weight. I cracked an eye open to squint at him.

"What do you want?"

He grinned at me and chuckled.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to interfere with your nap. I just... I wanted to say how much I appreciate you, and how good you are with my family. They mean the world to me, but I know having vigilantes dropping in at all hours of the day and night can be a little much to deal with. So thank you for being so wonderful about it, and about them."

I sighed, sitting all the way up and propping myself up on my hands to look Dick in the eye.

"Dick, I love you. And I love your family. Sure, it took a little getting used to some of the vigilante stuff, but the longer I know them the more I love them. You don't have to thank me for anything. They're my family too."

Dick absolutely beamed at me, wrapping one arm around my back and pulling me in for a kiss. I immediately reciprocated, tangling one hand in the hair at the nape of his neck. I smiled into the kiss and a moment later, Dick deepened it. We were right on the edge of escalating into something more, but both thought better of it at the last moment.

"I should take a shower," he said, still looking a little reluctant as he pulled away.

"Yeah, and you should stop interrupting my nap."

Dick snorted, rolling his eyes as he finally stood and headed for the bathroom. I grinned after him as he went, flopping back down onto my pillow only as Dick closed the bathroom door.

I took a deep breath and sighed, a smile on my face, as I closed my eyes for the second time. I heard the water start in the bathroom, and a faint smell of breakfast still hung in the air. I was surrounded by people I loved dearly, and who loved me right back. No matter the scare Jason had given me when he'd shown up, I couldn't ask for a better start to my morning than this.

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Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

DC Taglist: @luv-ghostie

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themusingsofacurlyhairednerd · 6 months ago

Note

hiiii, omg i would absolutely adore more of vampire rhysand fics, especially from that universe you created with them all vampires, will there be more? maybe when reader is turned, she can finally take both azriel and rhysand👀👀👀 or maybe to explore rhysand's relationship with her maybe nesta or someone from her family sneak in to the ball to steal reader back but rhysand is like nu uh tf

those are just some of the ideas that popped into my head, i love your writing and your smut💖

You must be psychic because I had literally just opened up a Word Document to try and write another Vamp!Rhys fic but couldn't figure out where to start!

I've got some ideas, and was thinking about doing some Monster Themed Fics for Spooky Season (More Vamp!Rhys + Bat Boys, maybe a Werewolf or Demon AU) if I can get my thoughts in order enough. Until then, pls enjoy a possessive!vamp!Rhys ;)

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Mine

Content Warnings: Slight SMUT, Possessive!Rhys, Blood and Gore

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“I’m bored,” Rhysand says by way of greeting, as he throws his lythe body onto the chase across from where you sit, curled up in a reading chair in the library.

The sun sets behind you, the golden rays peeking in through the blackout curtains that usually remain closed during the day. Most of the horde sleeps through the day, meaning, if you let your body’s natural rhythm guide you, you have the entire manor to yourself. And of course, you use most of that time to peruse the thousand year old vampire’s massive collection of books. There’s so many organized on the floor to ceiling shelves you’re not even sure you’re promised immortality will give you enough time to read all of them--that doesn’t stop you from trying, however.

The vampire lord remains in the shadows of the library, the crack of sunlight just far enough away to not burn his otherwise unbreakable skin. Sometimes you think it’s a shame he can only go out at night, while it’s true he looks his best under moonlight, the golden hue of the fading sun makes his bronze skin glow like a god. You’re tempted to set down the book in your hands and climb into his lap, unbutton the already half open shirt and run your tongue over every golden inch of him. Time has not dulled the need you feel for him, even after all these months, he’s still as tempting as he was the first time you laid eyes on him.

“There are a number of things you can do in this manor,” you say, ignoring your instincts and going back to the fantasy romance you’ve been devouring for the last hour. In truth, the smut on the page before you might also play into why your mouth is practically watering at the sight of him. You’re right at the good part, and your mind is torn between finishing the chapter and indulging your own fantasies with the very real, and very eager, vampire before you.

“Not entertaining enough,” he whines.

Your eyes still on the page as you try and think of something to offer him. He hasn’t been able to throw another ball in nearly a month, not after a group of vampire hunters had come rolling into town. Their presence had been tiresome and even Azriel, for all his talents had not been able to figure out who’d tipped them off and brought them around. Rhys had initiated an indoor ban on the whole horde just to keep everybody safe. That meant for the most part, everyone had been living off of sheep’s blood and well, you. Mostly the sheep’s blood though. Rhys had threatened to keep you locked in his room, for only his enjoyment if Azriel didn’t stop leaving so many bite marks in your thighs--his favorite place to feed from you apparently. There were more than enough bite marks across your throat to give the others pause before they tried to drink from you these days. And it hadn’t helped that Cass had snuck out and nearly been caught, drinking from a barmaid in an alley three nights ago. Everyone was on edge.

You glance up at him over the top of the worn pages in your hands. He keeps an arm thrown over his eyes, as if, even the little bit of sunlight filtering passed is enough to hurt him. Aside from that, he lays with one long leg tossed over the back of the couch, his shirt untucked and unbuttoned, the swirl of ink across his chest on full display. His dark hair is tousled, falling messily over his forehead. He had to have come directly here from his bedroom.

You look back down at the paragraph you were reading, the spicy scene practically leaping off the page at you, then back up to him as you bite your lower lip in thought. It’s usually him that initiates your interactions, him that dictates how and where you take him. You don’t mind. Truth be told, you love being able to let go of everything and let him dominate you in whatever way he sees fit. It is the height of your pleasure, knowing he could so easily break you, and yet he doesn’t. You think meeting him might actually have put some pieces of your soul back together, rather than shatter them further and you love him all the more for it. And now, in that freedom, you can’t help but wonder if there are still other things to explore?

“We could play a game?” You suggest, voice softer than you mean it to be. Neither of you have ever talked about switching things up. Why mess with a good thing, right? But he’s here, asking, and the idea is literally in your hands as you speak, like fate prompting you to try something new and exciting. It can’t hurt to ask, right? He’s never denied you anything before.

Rhys spreads two fingers over his face, so you catch a glimpse of one, gleaming, violet eye. A grin spreads across his handsome features, fangs glinting in the scarce few rays of sunlight left. There will be nothing but starlight here soon, the plain of existence made solely for him. The others may live in the dark, but it is Rhys who thrives in it. “I’m listening.”

You draw a shaky breath. It’s just a question. No harm can come from a question. But how exactly do you suggest… this? You glance down at the pages again, trying to see if they even gave it a name for you to offer him, but there’s nothing but the promise of pleasure blurring across the pages.

Gathering your courage, you unfurl your legs from beneath you and cross the distance so you can climb onto his lap. Those thighs might have been made just for you, muscle shifting to let you get comfortable as his hands settle on your hips. He sighs contentedly, like this is something he’s been missing as you settle your weight against him.

“I was reading this book and these characters are…” you scrunch your face, trying to explain without sounding crass and failing. A blush works its way up your cheeks as you shove the open book into his hands. “Maybe you should just read it.”

He takes his time, tongue slipping out to wet his full lips as he reads. You count every breath he takes in the silence, watching his face with rapt attention to try and gauge what he’s thinking about it. He’s a master of schooled expressions, always collected and together, but after all these months, you like to think you know his tells. Yet, as he reads, there is no gleam in his eye, no obvious indication of arousal from where you sit over his hips. There is nothing but careful calculation as he reads--and maybe rereads, judging by the time it takes him--the pages.

Finally he closes the book and sets it down on the floor. “You’re suggesting we do that?”

It’s hard to identify if that is amusement or irritation in his voice and you find your heartbeat quickening regardless of which it is. “I-if you want.”

“That’s not what I asked, Little One,” he tuts, hands resuming their rightful place on your hips. His thumbs stroke gentle circles into your skin, a move that can turn either teasing or cruel at a moment's notice.

“I don’t know, you said you were bored. I thought maybe, you know, since we haven’t had a ball in awhile you might want to…” the word sticks in your throat and you swallow as the intensity of his gaze pins you in place. “You know… hunt.”

His eyes light up at the word. “And you want me to hunt you?”

Your thighs clench involuntarily at the thought, a move that doesn’t go unnoticed in the slightest. He grins wolfishly, gaze pinned to where your hips rest over his. He could have you right here, like this and he knows it. All it would take is a couple rocking motions of his hips, a slide of his fingertips beneath the thin silk of your top, teasing up bare skin until he can play with your breasts and you’d surrender. He could drink his fill and take you just as you are, right here and now. But there’s no challenge in it, no fun to be had, and he wants you to tell him you want it. Want him like that.

You’d be a liar if you said you’d never thought about what he would feel like if he let loose his control and showed you just how much a monster he was capable of being. You knew that even if he lost his usual composure, he would never hurt you. Even his basest instincts would balk at the thought of causing you pain. If you said you wanted it, he would make sure that you enjoyed every minute of it.

“Yes,” you say softly.

He sits up, swinging his legs onto the floor, moving you with him. His hands slide over your hips to your ass, squeezing playfully as you squeal in surprise over the sudden shift in position. “What are the rules to this game then?”

Your heartbeat quickens in your chest. You’re actually going to do this.

“I want a ten minute head start,” you say slowly, mind spinning.

He hums as he leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Done. What else?”

“No going past the gardens.” There is enough yard between the manor and the perimeter walls that you could still feel like you were outside without risking an encounter with a hunter.

“Agreed,” he kisses the opposite corner of your mouth.

“If you catch me-”

“When I catch you,” he says, lips pressing to my chin.

“If you catch me before the end of the hour,” that gives him a total of thirty minutes before the clock chimes, “then…” It’s not like you’ve never talked dirty before, but still, your cheeks are a deep set of red as you say, “then I am yours to do with what you wish.”

His eyes gleam, fangs glinting as he leans back and grins like he’s already won. “And if I say I want to be so deep inside you that every sorry hunter for miles will know your mine regardless of where I find you?”

You clench your thighs again, or attempt to, this new position in his lap doesn’t give you a lot of room to do so. “If you can find me.”

He slides you effortlessly off his lap, but you find, given the nature of the way he’s looking at you, that your legs feel weak already. “You should get going. You’ve only got ten minutes, Darling.”

You waste precious time leaning down to capture his lips in a quick kiss, but you don’t care. Every kiss, every touch is worth the lost time. He is a promise of endless time, of boundless freedom and new adventures, time is never wasted with Rhys.

He pulls away with some difficulty. “I’m still counting,” he warns.

You grin as you turn and sprint out the library, leaving the doors wide open as you run. It occurs to you now that you’ve never actually seen him hunt outside a ballroom. There’s a lot of strategy to those hunts, as you’ve observed, but he’s never had to chase anything. He’s like a spider, waiting patiently for his prey to get caught and stuck in his web for him to devour. You don’t actually know how fast or strong he is. He certainly has a heightened sense of smell, but how heightened?

You know you want to make it outside, just to let him feel like he’s getting out of the house, but going straight out the back door would be too easy. You run up the stairs to the second floor instead, then into one of the many empty rooms and unlatch the window. This might waste more of your precious time, but still, you’re curious to know if he’ll save time and run right out the door, or if he can actually follow your scent.

Carefully, you climb onto the roof and pick your way across the slanting tiles, until you reach the side of the manor where tree branches reach for you. The gardens outside the estate are massive, their own little forest, and with the gates closed, the gardeners haven’t been around to trim the trees. Branches that would normally be clipped to keep the leaves from collecting on the roof have been allowed to blossom and you find a sturdy one and nimbly walk across it like a balance beam. He may be the expert hunter here, but you spent years outside the Spring Estate, back when your parents were still alive, exploring the massive gardens and climbing the trees. Until your Governess had dragged you back by the ear, yelling about your ripped skirts and scraped knees. Hardly the lifestyle of a lady, they’d said. You couldn’t care less now as you climb, hand over hand through the dense leaves, moving from tree to tree. This is familiar yet different, you are far more free here than you had ever been back home.

Anticipation sits hot and heavy in your lower belly as you move. It’s hard to tell how much time you have left and you need to decide if the plan is to just keep moving or to hunker down and hide in wait.

When the trees start to thin, you finally clamber down onto the damp floor below and take a good look around. There are certainly plenty of bushes to hide under, but that feels… boring.

You glance over your shoulder, the trees blocking out the moonlight that has now replaced the earlier sun. Shadows cling to the trees providing ample cover, for both you and the predator you know is coming.

You bite your lip. You want it to be a challenge. So you keep moving, ears straining for any little sound that might indicate your ten minutes is up. Every rustle of leaves makes a shiver run up your spine, heart thundering beneath your ribs. It’s a heady sort of rush that makes you laugh as you break into a full on sprint, wind tearing at your loose hair.

This is freedom. Unbridled and unrestrained, there are no limits on what you can do or want, and right now, you want exactly what he promised you.

You slow to catch your breath, the trees thinning as you come closer to the hedge maze on the far side of the property. There’s usually a whole slew of string lights bobbing overhead, so partygoers can see past the towering hedges full of roses and attempt to find the bubbling water fountain at the center of the maze. It’s a showstopper when lit, but right now, it is dark and unyielding and you inch your way towards it with more than a little trepidation. It would be a good place to make him walk through to get to you, but some of the hedges are so thick and overgrown it blocks out the light, and you do not have the night vision of vampires, not yet.

A twig snaps behind you and you jump with a hand clamped over your mouth to keep from screaming as you turn to face the noise. There’s enough moonlight to see by out here, but there is no familiar shape stalking towards you. There’s nothing there at all but the trees and the maze at your back.

You give yourself a little shake to calm your nerves as you inch backwards towards the opening of the maze, still anticipating Rhys’s sudden arrival. One step back, then another, until you can almost feel the shadow of the hedges against your back. It’s a degree colder within it than outside of it.

The first bit of darkness covers your entrance.

And it covered the hiding place too, because you hadn’t seen anyone or anything within the maze until a firm hand clamps over your mouth. Surprise makes you scream, the noise muffled beneath the weathered palm as a strong arm wraps around your waist.

How the hell had he gotten behind you?!

Hot breath fans your ear as he puts his lips to your ear. “Scream, and you’re dead.”

That’s not Rhys’s voice at all!

Panic grips you and you have just enough presence of mind to fight, digging your elbow into the stranger’s soft gut, throwing your head back into his shoulder. You twist and claw and bite down on the hand covering your mouth so hard you taste blood.

“You little bitch!” The stranger snarls, his hand slipping off your mouth.

You don’t have time to spit out the blood as you scream, “RHYS!!!” As loud as you can.

The stranger grabs your hair and spins you, face scraping over a cluster of thorny roses that cuts open your cheek as you fight to keep your footing. You stumble, but before you can hit the ground, another rough set of hands grabs your arm and yanks, pulling you deeper into the darkness of the maze.

“Get off me!” You shout, your game forgotten. There is nothing but wild panic in your blood as you claw and punch at the hands that pull you deeper and deeper into the maze.

Rhys can find you in here, right? He knows this isn’t part of the game?

Blood trickles down the wound in your cheek, following a trail down your neck and chest as your head whips around to try and get a good look at your attacker. He’s not much taller than you, but he’s twice as large, his arms made of thick, corded muscle. A spiderweb of scars travels up the bare expanse of his right arm, but he has no other defining features you can see in the darkness.

The second remains in the dark as they drag you through the maze. They must have been here awhile, if they know their way through it. In no time at all, you find yourself at the maze’s heart, the fountain that’s usually so dazzling at parties remains full of stagnant water and dead leaves. Sitting on the lip of it are another two men, one carrying a sword and another wearing a bandolier full of wooden stakes. Hunters.

Your mouth dries, heart skipping a beat. No no no! This can’t be happening! How’d they get past the gate? Rhys had it made by some local witches, it was supposed to be spelled to keep hunters out!

“Y/N?”

The world narrows in to the sound of that voice, as the body attached rounds the fountain. The sliver of moonlight cuts through the overgrown shrubs, highlighting the swatch of blonde hair, carefully tied back from a face that looks so similar to your own.

Though you have no fangs of your own, you pull your lips back in a snarl as Tamlin draws nearer. “You did this?” You hiss at your brother.

He looks older, tired. Emerald eyes framed by dark circles. It’s been months since you’ve seen him. Months since he sent someone to tell you not to bother coming home since you’d ruined yourself with Rhys. Based on the stories you’d heard, he’d trashed the manor in a fit of rage when he’d found out he could no longer auction you off like a mare to be wed and bred by some stuffy, old baron or count.

He takes you in, nose crinkling as he spots the hickeys littering your throat. You’re not wearing anything more than a pair of lounge shorts and a silk top, an outfit that had felt appropriate a moment ago but now, based on the judgment and leering of the hunters, feels poorly out of place.

It’s an effort not to try and cover yourself, to stand there, blood still dripping from your cheek and keep your chin up.

“Where is he?” Tamlin demands.

Shit. Shit. Shit! Of course he’s not here for you, he’d made it clear you were as wanted as a wadded up gum wrapper. He--they--are all here for Rhys.

“Who?” You play dumb, trying to buy time. Rhys is walking right into a trap and if you don’t think of something quick…

“Don’t play dumb!” Tamlin snarls. “I know you’ve been whoring yourself out to that blood sucker!”

He can’t know that Rhys is the town’s vampire, there’s no way. Every person that leaves the manor is compelled to forget everything they saw. The whole horde is meticulous, Az has even followed people home to ensure the protection of the den.

When you don’t respond, he says, a little gentler this time, “Tell me where he is, Y/N, and I will consider this whole mess a compulsion on his part and not hold it against you. We’ll go home and find somewhere safe for you to live. There’s a temple that will take in ruined women…”

You’re seeing red. “Nobody fucking ruined me! It is my body! What I do with it is none of your business!”

He frowns. “Nesta thought you might have been compelled, I didn’t want to believe that you were so weak minded that it could happen to you, but now that I see you…”

Nesta. Your stomach twists itself into knots. She was supposed to be your best friend, and yet she had gone to Tamlin and he’d called the hunters. She must have seen Rhys drinking from you that first night after all. In her rush, she’d pissed off Cass, who had been so distracted with her leaving he’d distracted Az from following her home. She’d gotten out of the den knowing what they all were and Tamlin had spent all this time summoning these hunters.

The betrayal stings worse than the cut on your cheek, your eyes burning despite your attempts to keep it all bottled up. You can’t cry here! Not in front of them. The four hunters hover near the exits, blocking your escape, but keeping watch for Rhys all the same. They all have stakes. They’re all clearly fighting men, all capable of taking on an unsuspecting vampire.

“Don’t do this, Tam,” you whisper. If anything happens to Rhys… If they get their hands on him because you suggested going outside the manor, you’re never going to forgive yourself.

“You forced my hand!” Tamlin snarls, advancing a step towards you. “You went and made a mess of things as always! If mom were still alive she would have keeled over and had a heart attack from the strain of having you for a daughter.”

The words hit like a slap. He’d always been good at that; when he couldn’t use his size and strength, his words were just as sharp as a blade, and he’d used them to keep you in line for years. Even now, the freedom you had so desperately craved feels like it’s slipping through your fingers. You feel your shoulders hunch, chin dipping towards your chest. He’s always been so terribly good at making you feel small and useless and so terribly unwanted. Even now, your own flesh and blood isn’t here to make sure you’re alright, he’s here to prove himself a hero by killing a vampire. Your vampire.

Figures, as soon as you’d found something to love, Tamlin found another way to rip it from you.

Seeing a weakness, Tamlin stalks towards you, his footfalls heavy in the damp earth. He reaches out a hand to grab you, but before he can so much as brush a fingertip over your arm, his body flies backwards like it’s been tossed by an invisible hand. He hits the statue guarding the water fountain so hard the old angel’s head falls from it’s stone shoulders.

“Don’t fucking touch her!” Rhys snarls so loud the ground shakes. He’d come in silently, stealthy as a cat. The power that radiates off him is nothing like the demure courtier you see in the ballroom, there is nothing subtle or charming about this Rhys. There is only cold, unyielding rage as he moves around you faster than your eyes can track. You don’t even have time to warn him about what the hunters are armed with before he uses his teeth to rip the throat out of the first man. Blood splatters across his face as the hunter falls. Another blink at the second falls, his heart still beating from where Rhys holds it in his fist.

The third hunter has just enough time to slide a stake out of its sheath and lunge, but Rhys is so much faster and stronger, there is no contest. He snags the hunter’s wrist, snapping the bone so hard his wrist twists backwards, the stake now aimed at the hunter’s heart. His own momentum keeps him moving forward, even as he screams in terror, and he impales himself on his own stake. Rhys hurls the body into the thorny hedges, leaving it to bleed out as he turns to face the fourth and final hunter.

It's the one that had grabbed you initially, his thin lips pulled back in a sneer as he flips two stakes around in his large hands.

“You think you can waltz into my domain,” Rhys seethes. There’s an eerie calm to his steps now, blood dripping from his fingers, splattering the trampled grass. “And try and take what is mine?”

Rationally, you know you should be terrified of him like this--this is who he really is, not the courtly mask and disarming smiles you know, this is a full-fledged vampire in all his glory--but you’re not. Not even a little bit. If anything, the sight of him makes you feel like you can breathe again.

“I’ve killed worse things than you,” the hunter spits. “You won’t even be a challenge.”

Rhys cocks his head like he’s thinking, a grin spreading across his face. His fangs are longer than you’ve ever seen them, poking into his lower lip, where the first hunter’s blood still lingers. “Is that so?”

He takes a small step forward, and though the hunter’s fingers twitch around the stakes, he doesn’t move. He doesn’t even blink. He stands still as a statue, his chest barely rising and falling. Almost like he can’t move at all.

Rhys reaches out and plucks the stakes from the hunter’s hands like he’s taking a toy from a belligerent child. The hunter doesn’t move; doesn’t speak in his own defense.

Rhys lifts the stake to get a better look at it in the moonlight. “These are poorly made,” he tuts, right before he jams it between the hunter’s eyes. The man falls, still completely immobile.

“You’re a fucking monster,” Tamlin hisses from where he’s still struggling to get back to his feet.

Rhys slides the hand not dripping blood into his pocket, appearing bored as he puts a boot on Tamlin’s shoulder and pushes him back down into the mud. “Humans are so very dull.”

“Yet you keep my sister like a fucking pet!” Tamlin snarls, trying to rise again and losing the battle as Rhys’s heel pushes down against his shoulder until the bone snaps. “You compelled her into being with you and have been keeping her here against her will.”

You stare at the two of them. Rhys is holding back now, toying with Tamlin--the brother that had locked you up, had insisted your Governess cut your meals in half to keep you thin and desirable for a suitor; the brother who had ignored your wishes your whole life and had stolen almost every bit of happiness you had tried to carve out for yourself. Only one of them is the monster here.

“Nobody compelled me into staying,” you hiss. “Nobody compelled me into doing anything! I chose it.”

Tamlin tilts his head to look at you, despite the pain flashing across his face. “He just used his powers to freeze a man in place, you’re too stupid to know if he used them on you.”

Rhys moves his boot from Tamlin’s shoulder to his wrist, heel crushing down until the bone splinters, the resounding crack echoing through the maze. “Try that again,” he dares.

Tamlin’s howls of pain have somehow not drawn everybody else outside, but you are relieved to see it. As much as you want him out of your life forever, you’re not up for watching them all devour him like a turkey at a Sunday roast.

You pick your way around the mess of bodies until you can grab Rhys’s hand, the blood now cold and sticky over his palm. You do not balk from it. This is still your Rhys. He is still what you would choose, if you could go back to that first night on the dancefloor. Bargain or no bargain, you would have come back time and time again, to be with him and this family you have made for yourself here. This is the life you want, messy and full of monsters.

Rhys glances down at your joined hands, yours so small and delicate against the mess of his own.

You intertwine your fingers. “Please don’t kill him.”

He reaches out with his free hand to run a thumb over your ruined cheek, checking how deep the cuts are. “Why not?”

“Can he be compelled to forget about all of us? Can you make it so that we never existed?”

“Y/N!” Tamlin screams. “You don’t know what you’re doing!”

“I could,” Rhys admits. “Is that what you want?”

“I want to be with you,” you say confidently. “As a human or a vampire.”

Tamlin tries to move out from under Rhys’s boot but gets nowhere.

“I want him to no longer have control of my life. I want to be free to choose where I go and who comes with me. I am angry at him. I’ve been angry at him my whole life. But… but I don’t want him dead.”

Rhys nods, then brushes a tender kiss over your forehead. “It’ll be done then.”

Azriel appears from the shadows then, as if he’d been hovering somewhere in the maze just in case. That intense hazel gaze sweeps over you, taking stock of your injuries before he hauls Tamlin to his feet.

Your brother still tries to fight it, but his right arm hangs limp and twisted at his side, and even if he was whole, he’s no match for either of them.

Rhys takes Tamlin’s chin between his forefinger and thumb, holding him in place with just those two fingers alone. “Any last words, Darling?”

You flash your middle finger at Tamlin, “If you come back through these gates, I’ll hunt you down myself.”

“Vicious,” Azriel praises, tongue running over his lower lip in appreciation to this new side of you.

Rhys keeps his attention pinned to Tamlin. “You’ll return home. You’ll forget this vampire business. You went out and got drunk and got your ass handed to you by the barmaid.”

Azriel snickers at that.

You’ve seen that barmaid, she very well could hand Tamlin his ass, the story will be convincing.

“If anyone asks about your sister, you’ll tell them she ran away to be with the people that love her. There is no need to look for her. She is happy.”

And you are. Your chest warms at the words. You are happy here. You will always be happy here, with this new family you’ve found.

Tamlin repeats the words in monotone, like they’re being forced out of his head.

“You’ll have to find and compel Nesta too,” you say softly. “She saw us that first night.”

“Leave it to Cass to put us in this mess,” Azriel grumbles. “I should make him compel her for the trouble.”

“He’d just turn her for shits and giggles and then we’d be in bigger trouble,” Rhys responds as he releases his grip on Tamlin. Your brother’s head sags to his chest, unconscious, and Azriel drags him out through the back gate.

“It’s done?” You ask, watching them leave.

“It’s done,” Rhys confirms.

You turn to face him again and stretch up on your toes to kiss him gently on the lips, despite the blood. “Thank you.”

When you try to pull away, he slides a hand into your hair and pulls you back for another, ravenous kiss. “Are you all right?”

“A little shaken,” you confess, reaching up a hand to brush a tendril of dark hair off his head. “But alright. Are you?”

He slides his arms beneath you and picks you up like you weigh nothing. “Let’s get you cleaned up and I’ll feel better.”

In no time at all, you’re back safe inside the house, perched on top of the counter in the bathroom attached to his room. Candlelight flickers to give him a better view of the gash across your cheek, now forming a bruise beneath the split skin.

“It doesn’t hurt too bad,” you assure. “Just stings a little.”

He frowns as he pokes at it, then brings his wrist up to his mouth and sinks his fangs into a vein. “Drink,” he orders, bringing it to your lips. “My blood will heal you.”

You stare at him for a moment. It has become an easy thing to accept that he likes to drink from you. He needs blood to live and you want him to keep on living, it is an easy exchange--and one that always ends pleasurably for you at that--but this is different. It’s not necessity. He’s offering because he wants to. Because he cares about you.

“Please,” he says gently, pushing his wrist a little closer. “Let me take care of you.”

You wrap your hand around his arm as you bring his wrist to your mouth, unsure of how to go about this. He holds you steady, pressing his wrist to your lips, guiding you through it like he has everything this far. His blood is a coppery tang in your mouth as you run your tongue over the two puncture marks in his wrist and swallow it down.

By the time he pulls away, the stinging in your cheek has subsided.

“It’ll taste better once you're one of us,” he explains as he grabs a towel and cleans the remaining blood off your skin.

You watch the slow pace in which he moves now, all that rage and strength once again contained within the confines of courtly manners, but there is a stiffness to those usually graceful motions. You can almost taste the unease coming off him as he uses the same towel to clean the blood off his own face and hands.

“You’re not changing your mind about turning me after this mess, are you?”

He tosses the towel in the hamper near the door and comes to stand between your legs. You have to tilt your head back to look at him as he cups your face in his large hands. “Never.” The finality in his tone leaves no room for doubt. “I never wish to be parted from you again.”

Your heart stutters in your chest. This bargain between you is fun and exciting, and truth be told you are more fond of him than you’d ever dare say out loud, but you had always assumed those budding feelings were one sided. This was a game and a bargain at the end of the day, what was one human in the span of eternity to a thousand year old vampire? Daring to believe that you meant more to him was not a luxury you had let yourself indulge in.

“And I thought…” he shakes his head and kisses you gently at first, grounding himself in the reality that you are safe and in his arms, but it turns rough and desperate as he considers what he’s saying. “I thought I might lose you.”

You run your fingers through the silky strands of his hair, knocking a few loose leaves that had gotten caught when he’d come running after you.

“If anything were to happen to you, I don’t…” he shutters as he slides his hands beneath you and lifts you off the counter, carrying you towards his large bed with ease despite the shakiness of his breathing.

“I’ve killed thousands of hunters. I have drained entire covens of witches and packs of werewolves.” He lays you down in the center of the black silk sheets, body propped up against a dozen pillows someone who is undead doesn’t really need, his large frame kneeling over yours as he kisses you again. “I have fought and won hundreds of battles and taken down an army of other vampires. Bloodshed is in my nature. It is woven into the lifeblood of creatures like me. I am used to the killing, but I have never enjoyed it. I avoid it if I can, but tonight, when I saw those hunters around you…”

He steals another kiss, tongue sliding behind your teeth to try and claim your very breath as his weight settles between your legs. “I wanted to take my time. I wanted to make them pay for putting their hands on you. I enjoyed making them suffer. And I’d do it again.”

Perhaps the long lasting effects of being locked up has altered your brain chemistry, because such outright aggression should be a warning sign to run, but it makes heat flare in your chest instead. This is a dangerous amount of possessiveness and yet, you enjoy it. It is nice to be looked after so deeply.

“And I know that I should turn you,” he continues. “You have more than fulfilled your part of the bargain and after seeing those hunters today, I should give you an edge over them, just in case, but…” Another kiss, his hands slipping beneath your top to skim your sides. “But to turn you I have to… You have to die to become a vampire. How am I supposed to do that, knowing that it’ll hurt, even for a moment? Knowing that I will have to be the one to do it?”

Your fingers drift to the buttons of his shirt, slowly popping them open so you can touch him. “It doesn’t have to be today. We never set a time.”

“I saw that scratch on you and almost went out of my mind,” he says as he leans back enough to let you push the shirt off his shoulders, but as soon as the article is off he’s right back on top of you again, kissing you like he won’t ever get enough. “I love you,” he whispers against your lips. “I have never loved a human before. I have never been so conflicted before. I can’t lose you, Y/N. I’m just not ready to turn you yet either.”

Your hands skim up his tattooed torso, tracing every curve of ink up his chest and shoulders until you can cup his cheek. “You’re not going to lose me. Like I said, I choose you. I want to be here with you. Like this or otherwise. I am in no rush.”

He tilts his head and kisses your palm. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“I know,” you assure, using your free hand to grab him behind the neck and pull him down for another kiss. “I trust you. When the time is right to turn me, we’ll know. It’ll feel right.”

His lips pull away from yours just long enough to catch your breath before he starts trailing kisses along your jaw and neck. You let yourself relax beneath his ministrations, eyes drifting shut. It no longer feels strange that this has become the place you feel safest; this is right.

“I love you,” you say softly.

He all but purrs into your throat, the kiss he was placing there more forceful than the last. “Careful, that’s a dangerous thing to say to an immortal.”

“You said it first,” you counter, hands sliding off him to reach for the hem of your shirt. You want it off, no clothes between your bodies, the warmth of him like this seeping into your skin. There is no telling how different it’ll feel once you’re no longer human, you want to relish every experience you have while you still have it.

He nips teasingly at your throat, fangs just barely scraping your skin. Not enough to feed, but just enough to remind you they’re there. “What power you wield over me, Little Human.”

“I’ll try not to let it go to my head,” you reply.

He laughs at that, the sound rich and deep, and you think you might do just about anything to hear it again and again. “Be careful how you wield it, I would do anything you asked.”

“Anything?” You ask with a grin, a few things coming to mind.

He nips at your throat hard enough to leave a bruise this time. “No questions asked.”

“So if I have other scenes in my books I want to try out…”

“What a dirty little mind you have,” he tuts. “And when we didn’t even get to finish the first one.”

“That really is a shame,” you muse. “I was looking forward to it too.”

“Another night then,” he promises, his voice low and dangerous in your ear. “Tonight I want to take my time with you.”

And how can you say no to those kinds of promises?

#rhysand x reader #vamp!rhys #vamp!Rhys x reader #vamp!Rhys smut #vampire smut #rhysand x reader smut #smut request #acotar #acotar smut #acotar fic #rhysand acotar #my fics #my writing #my requests #asks #acotar asks #rhysand asks

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anakinstwinklebunny · 4 days ago

Note

new hayden fan nonnie again, i am ready to officially join the fam (if you’ll have me)! may i be 🐮 anon?

also i have a fic request! would you be open to writing one where nerdy!anakin meeting his favorite book author who happens to be reader? or anakin could be the book author and the reader is the fan? either sounds cute to me, have fun with it!

thank you, bunny!!

- 🐮

PAIRING: writer!nerd!anakin x f!reader/ nerd!anakin x f!writer!reader

Author's note: OFC YOU CAN POOKIE!! and that's such a cute emoji 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ (couldn't help myself and made two scenarios you mentioned)

𝓕𝓛𝓤𝓕𝓕 ❦

You weren’t nervous.

Nope. Not at all.

Just because you were about to meet the ANAKIN SKYWALKER, the actual author of your favorite book series—the one whose words had ruined you, rebuilt you, and left you obsessing over every single character, every emotion described on the paper—did not mean you had to freak out.

Except, you were totally freaking out.

Fingers clutched his book against your chest as if it may shield you from crushing your nerves adrenaline, while you stood in line, shifting on your feet, trying not to think about the fact that in a few minutes, you’d be face-to-face with him.

And then suddenly— way too soon—it was your turn.

You stepped forward, heart pounding. Hands sweating

He looked up.

Oh.

You were not prepared for how pretty he was in real life.

The grainy black-and-white author photo in the book didn’t do him justice—those messy curls framed his face in a way that made your stomach flip, glasses sat slightly crooked on his nose, and his sweater sleeves were pushed up, exposing lean forearms dusted with veins running up his body

God really took his time creating him.

He blinked at you, pushing his glasses up with two fingers. “Hi.”

His voice was soft, a little hesitant, like he wasn’t really used to this—like he didn’t know the power, the impact he had.

You swallowed, barely keeping your composure. “H-Hi,” you managed, setting his, well..yours, book down in front of him. “I—um—I love your books. A lot. Like, I might have reread them too many times.”

A soft flush crept up his neck. He ducked his head, scribbling something in the book. “That’s—uh—thank you. That means a lot. Really.”

Your heart clenched. He was adorable.

You leaned forward slightly, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I have to know—how did you come up with him?” You tapped the book cover, referring to the broody, tortured love interest that had single-handedly ruined your life. “Because I swear, he haunts my dreams.”

Anakin let out a breathy laugh, looking up at you with this disgustingly-twisting-gut eyes “Uh—he just… appeared, I guess.” He smiled sheepishly. “You’re actually, um, not the first person to say that.”

You grinned. “Well, he’s perfect. And kind of my biggest crush.”

His pen froze mid-signature.

Oh my gosh..what have you done?

He cleared his throat, fumbling slightly as he handed the book back to you. “That’s—uh—good to know.”

You peeked at what he’d written, expecting just a simple signature. But beneath his name, a small note made your breath hitch and your lips to crack in a small, nervous smile:

«To the girl with excellent taste—if you ever want to discuss my characters over coffee, let me know.»

Your head snapped up. He was already looking at you, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

Your stomach flipped.

ANAKIN SKYWALKER had planned this day for weeks. Checked the bookstore’s event schedule at least a dozen times. He had to make sure he was on the right time, the right day, wore the right clothes for this occasion. For weeks he had practiced what he’d say in the mirror, only to stammer like an idiot each time. But now that he was here, standing in line, gripping a hardcover copy of your book so tightly his knuckles were white—he felt like he might pass out.

The line moved too quickly. One second, he was behind a group of fans, and the next—

“Next, please!”

His breath caught in his throat.

Sitting behind the table, a warm, inviting smile on your lips painted your face as you reached for his book. “Hi,” you greeted, voice soft, smooth, the same voice he’d listened to in countless interviews. “What’s your name?”

He opened his mouth. Nothing came out.

God.

You were even prettier in real life.

“I—uh, it’s Anakin,” he managed, adjusting his glasses like it would somehow fix the fact that he was a mess. “I—wow, okay, sorry, I just—uh, I love your books. Like, a lot.”

A soft laugh left you, and his heart nearly stopped, did a flip, hit his insides and went back to its place.

“That’s really sweet. Thank you, Anakin.” You took the book from his shaking hands and flipped to the title page. Gosh, you said his name in the most sweetest way possible. Was it how heaven felt like? “Do you want me to write anything specific?”

“Uh, um—” He cursed himself for being so awkward, so nervous. He was a grown man for Force’s sake. “I—your characters. The way you write them. It’s like they’re real.” He pushed his glasses up again, desperate to say something intelligent but it made no sense in the sudden conversation. “I feel like I know them. Like they’ve… changed me.”

Your pen stilled. Slowly, you lifted your gaze to meet his.

For a second, he panicked—had he said too much? Sounded too intense? Was it too weird? But then, your expression softened

“That’s probably the best thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

Anakin swore his heart exploded.

You smiled, scribbling something inside his book before sliding it back to him. “I’m really glad my stories meant something to you, Anakin.”

He stared at the book, at your signature, but what was the most important was the small note beneath it:

«To Anakin—thank you for feeling my words the way they were meant to be felt.»

His throat went dry.

Before he could even think, the words slipped out. “Would you—” He swallowed hard. “Would you ever want to talk about writing? Over coffee? Or tea—if you like tea, that’s totally fine, I—”

Your lips twitched. “Are you asking me out?”

His face burned. “I—uh—”

But then you grinned.

Oh.

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Maybe at the end of the day this was a story worth writing, too.

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gurugirl · 11 months ago

Note

Would U ever do a good boy harry like prologue kinda takes place before the series where harry likes hear her moaning in her sleep and starts wanking to her on the other side of the wall or something

Well I'm a sucker for this kind of thing... not really a true prologue but YES WHY NOT. Written very fast! Thank you to the anon who suggested this 🙈

Summary: Harry's stepmom is moaning in her bedroom and Harry can't help himself.

Word Count: 1,074

Warning: masturbation, slight exhibitionist kink, inappropriate relationship/fantasy, this is stepmom!reader x stepson!harry (everyone is an adult here - I do not write smut with minors just as a reminder!)

A Good Boy masterlist

Harry tried not to think about her that way. About his stepmom. God, she was hot. Just a bit older than he was with the cutest laugh and the way she would twirl her fingers in his long hair every time he went to his dad's to visit would drive him crazy.

And only an hour before she was trying to get him to let her braid it. So he let her a little but his dick was expanding in his joggers and he got up halfway through and apologized, running off to his bedroom before she could get a peek at what was happening to his cock. He had to finish himself to the image of her licking her lips and looking at him with her pretty doe eyes.

What was wrong with him? Aside from the fact that he was a virgin still. An adult in college who hadn't yet gotten laid. Perhaps that was why he was so hard up for her. But it wasn't like she was the only girl to ever give him any kind of attention. It's just that Y/n's attention was so innocent. The sweet hugs and subtle touches. The conversations about nothing and the way she'd be wearing the shortest goddamn shorts after tennis all sweaty and gulping down her water in the kitchen without care. Which always had him running up to his room and wanking off like a damn teenager.

But at that moment? With the house dark and quiet he could hear her in her bedroom. Yes her bedroom. She and his father didn't share a room. It was an odd arrangement but Harry knew better than to ask too many questions. All he knew was that if she were his he’d have her in his bed next to him every night. But of course, she wasn’t his. She was his dad’s wife.

He wasn't completely sure that what he was hearing was what he thought he was hearing. Little moans. Soft and breathy. Her door was cracked open and so was his.

Another long sigh from her had him sitting up in bed and straining to hear more. He knew his father was in his own bedroom and long asleep so she wasn't with him.

"Mmmm..." it was muffled and quiet but the house was also quiet and Harry couldn't mistake the sound. He closed his eyes and laid his head back into his pillow.

He'd tried and failed so many times to keep his thoughts out of the gutter with her but he'd already had full-on fantasies about her before. And he figured she'd never find out that he could hear her. What was the harm if he could just stroke himself a little while she moaned? No one had to know.

Harry pulled his tissue box next to himself on his bed and spit into his palm. His cock was already hard. Pathetic when he really thought about it. Because he'd already fucked his fist and nutted not that long before thinking about Y/n.

When he smoothed his hand down his shaft he parted his lips and spread his legs, long strokes up and down his length as he heard another gasp from her room. Smoothing his thumb over his slit he felt he was already dripping for her. Precome pushing from his tip. He pulled the moisture down himself and used his other hand to fondle his balls and he whimpered into his pillow after he flipped himself to his tummy. He didn't want her to hear him the way he could hear her.

He rutted down into his fist, his face heating up and heart pounding as her own little moans grew more frequent. He could almost see her in his mind’s eye. Pretty body, all soft and supple, perked nipples dancing over wobbly soft tits as she slid her fingers over her pussy that he would give almost anything to look at. He wondered if she was using a toy or just her hands. Wondered if she was humping a pillow or who she was imagining. Did she look at porn to get herself in the mood? Had she gotten turned on from braiding his hair earlier? Unlikely, he thought to himself.

Fucking down into his fist he imagined her body under his, imagined he was dipping into her sweet hole and bringing those noises to her lips, making her gush as she raked her nails down his back.

"Fuck me..." he whispered with his mouth smashed into his pillow as he felt his balls tighten and his insides get all sticky and mushy and hot.

He quickly pulled a wad of tissues from the box and laid them down over the mattress and went back to his desperate strokes as his stepmom gasped and panted, the sound of what he thought could be her coming had his brain spinning and his cock throbbing as he beat himself tip to root, over and over again until he was spurting out all the sticky mushy come that had built up in his balls and poured it over the tissues. He moaned loudly just as Y/n's own noises were halted. She'd finished right before he had. If that was in fact what she’d been doing. He had his doubts but what else could it have been?

He breathed heavily as he tugged at his cock one last good stroke before he sat back to his haunches and wiped his hand with the tissues and tossed the mess into his garbage.

The house was silent again and he heard light footsteps over hardwood planks in the floor, “Night Harry,” her soft whispered voice sounded just before he heard her door click close. She'd either just realized her door was cracked open or she knew all along. Harry didn't imagine she'd done it on purpose.

However, the night Harry was something. Wasn’t it? Had she heard him? Did she know he was still awake? Was this a test?

But no. He couldn’t think like that. He was already in too deep with his feelings for his stepmom. She was a nice young woman who was sweet to him. That’s all it was. Nothing more. It would be impossible that she’d find her husband’s son attractive. That she’d just masturbated and let him hear her on purpose. That she wanted to get a rise out of him. Definitely not.

But then again…

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cassiebones · 1 month ago

Note

'15. I'm your gift this year' for the Agathario writing prompt, please!

Four Days to Christmas

"When are you coming home?"

Agatha sighed. Her son's eyes were visibly wet on the other side of the Zoom call, his bottom lip protruding as he gave her his sad puppy dog look. The only difference now was that she could tell he wasn't using the look to get something he wanted from her and was genuinely sad that she wasn't there with him this time.

She was in California this week, working on a last-minute work 'emergency' they'd called it, but honestly she could have probably done this via Zoom and remote access to somebody's computer. Men were just highly incompetent, it seemed. She vowed that her son would never be this incompetent, though.

"Soon," Agatha promised. "I'll be home before Christmas, I swear. I just have to finish up a few things here and then I'll be on the next plane home. Maybe I'll even hitch a ride with Santa Claus."

That didn't get the giggle she had hoped it would. Nicky's face was still somber, a tear leaking out from the corner of his eye. Agatha's heart ached.

This was the first holiday season in his short six years of life that she wasn't home to help him and her wife put up the tree or decorate the house or bake Christmas cookies. She'd had to watch them do all that while on Zoom as she put out fires at the California office that her inept colleagues had set nearly every day this month.

At this point, she swore they were doing it on purpose just to keep her away from her family - or to avoid their own families.

She was putting out feelers at other companies, one based closer to home, with the understanding that she was not available to travel this far away, especially during the holidays. As soon as she found another job, she was putting in her resignation, cashing in her PTO, and leaving these imbeciles in the dust.

"I will make it home to you," Agatha promised again. "You have my word."

She didn't know if she could make that promise. It was four days until Christmas and she didn't even have a flight booked, but she would spend any amount of money just to see that little face in person.

Nicky's chin quivered, and Agatha's heart cracked just a little bit more.

Three Days to Christmas

"How are things going over there?" Rio asked. Agatha groaned, flopping down onto her hotel bed. "So good then?"

Agatha let out a snort. "I don't know how I ended up at a company so full of idiots," she said. "I swear to Goddess, babe, I don't know how these men have survived this far in life without walking straight into traffic. They are so dumb. And now they're going to make me late for Christmas." She felt tears spring into her eyes.

"It'll be all be okay," Rio said, soothingly. "Everything will work out like it should. You just focus on showing these idiots up and making them realize what they're going to be missing when you're gone. Speaking of, have you heard back from anywhere?"

"Several places, actually," Agatha said. "I'm going with whoever offers me the first contract. Which seems to be...Kale Kare. I'm not really into their products, but I can be if Jen Kale can get me back to New Jersey before Christmas Eve." Christmas Eve was in two days.

"Good luck with that," Rio said with a chuckle. "I believe in you, babe."

"I love you," Agatha replied, her voice soft as she turned over on the bed, looking up at the ceiling. "Tell Nicky I'm going to be there."

"I will," Rio promised. "I love you, too."

Two Days to Christmas

Agatha was going to end up in prison on Christmas. She was going to be using her one phone call to speak to her son, to apologize and tell him that she wouldn't be making it home after all because she couldn't keep herself from strangling three grown men with her bare fucking hands.

If she had been allowed to handle everything on her own, without their ineptitude slowing her down, Agatha would have been home weeks ago, but these morons were fucking everything up with their cocky attitudes and unwillingness to ask her for assistance until it was nearly too late.

Agatha's resignation letter was sitting in a draft in her email, waiting for Jennifer Kale to send the contract for Agatha's signature. It was taking her a minute, but Agatha knew that she had to make sure that everything was ironclad as her lawyers looked over it.

Jen Kale's operations were based in New York, just an hour outside Westview, and while she had operations in other states, it was in Agatha's contract that she would not make Agatha travel anywhere more than a three-hour flight away too close to any major holiday or birthday in her family.

Also, her company was 95% female-led, which would be a refreshing change, and she could match Agatha's current salary.

All she needed to do was sign on the dotted line.

Jennifer's email found her after midnight. Agatha spent most of the early hours of Christmas Eve reading through the contract, checking everything off her list, then signed and sent it back. She fired off her resignation letter to the CEO after that, placing her phone on Do Not Disturb before buying herself a ticket home for Christmas.

One Day to Christmas

All flights were delayed.

Agatha wanted to cry. It was six hours until midnight. She was at the airport, running on three hours of sleep, grumpy as all hell. Her wife wasn't answering her phone or texts, and her flight was delayed indefinitely due to a snowstorm in Newark the fucking night before Christmas.

Tears stung her eyes as she paced the terminal, waiting for the inevitable announcement that her flight would just be straight-up cancelled.

Nicky was going to be so upset.

"Ladies and gentlemen," an announcement said above her head. Agatha's heart sunk. "We regret to inform you that flight 1674, from San Francisco to Newark, has been delayed until 11 am on December 25th. We are so sorry to have disrupted your holiday plans. You will all receive a voucher for a complimentary meal, as well as discounted rates at the nearest hotels. Once again, our apologies. Happy Holidays."

"Fuck," Agatha whined, plopping down into a seat. "Fuck."

"That's a bad word."

Agatha nearly jumped out of her skin, spinning around to see her wife and child standing just feet away. Tears sprung to her eyes as she ran to them, dropping to her knees in front of her son and pulling him into her embrace, squeezing him tightly as though he would vanish into thin air if she let him go even for a single second.

"What are you doing here?" she huffed, looking up at Rio, who was just as misty-eyed as she stared down at them. "How did you get here? Isn't there a snowstorm?"

"Just missed us," Rio said. "We left before it started."

"How did you know I wouldn't make it home in time? Did you have so little faith in me?" Agatha stood, hefting Nicky onto her hip, holding him close to her body.

"Oh, sweetheart," Rio said, stepping closer to cup her cheek in her hand, "it had nothing to do with that. My lack of faith was in your incompetent business partners." She rolled her eyes. "I bought Nicky and myself a couple of open-ended plane tickets. The fact that we were able to get a flight so last-second is a minor miracle in itself. But I knew when I saw the weather report this morning that you'd never be able to make it home, by no fault of your own. So...here we are, bringing Christmas to you."

"Babe," Agatha breathed, pulling Rio in by her scarf, pressing her lips to the other woman's. Rio wrapped her arms around Agatha and Nicky, sinking into Agatha's kiss. "I love you so damn much," Agatha whispered against her wife's lips.

"That's also a curse," Nicky piped up, eliciting a snort from Agatha and a laugh from Rio as she pressed a kiss to the crown of his head and poked him in the side. Nicky giggled, pressing his face into Agatha's neck.

"Come on," Agatha said, already reaching for her suitcase. "Next flight isn't until eleven AM. Let's go find a hotel and get something to eat."

"Sounds good to me," Rio said, slinging her arm around Agatha's waist as they headed in the direction of the exit.

Zero Days to Christmas

"Mami! Mama! Wake up! It's Christmas!"

Agatha groaned, pulling her wife more closely to her body. It had been three weeks since she'd last seen the other woman in person, and they'd barely gotten four hours of sleep after finally getting Nicky to sleep the night before, his excitement for Christmas practically having him bouncing off the walls into the early hours of the morning.

They had set the expectation that Santa probably wouldn't find them in the hotel, on the opposite side of the country, in time for Christmas, but all his gifts would almost certainly be under the tree when they returned home to Westview, which would no doubt be covered in several feet of snow. Nicky was ostensibly fine with that.

But now he was acting the way he'd acted every Christmas since he realized what the holiday meant for their family: like he was about to find a pile of gifts under the tree with his name on them.

But there was no tree this year, not in this hotel, anyway. There was nothing to unwrap. They'd do all that when they got back to Jersey.

"Come on!" Nicky huffed, tugging the comforter off of their huddled bodies, exposing them to the cold. "Get up!"

Agatha groaned, shoving her face into Rio's neck.

"I brought a few things," Rio whispered in her ear, so low that Agatha almost missed it. "Just so he'd have something to open."

"Whyyyyyy?" Agatha moaned, wrapping her body more tightly around Rio's. Rio chuckled in her ear, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"Stay in bed," she said, extracting herself. "I'll make you some coffee and be right back. We'll bring the gifts here."

"I love you so fucking much," Agatha all but whined, pressing a kiss to Rio's lips before letting her go.

"Alright, buddy," she heard Rio say. "Show me where the gifts Santa left you are."

"Why isn't Mama coming?" Nicky asked.

"Because somebody kept her up until nearly two in the morning," Rio snorted. "You're lucky Santa brought you anything at all after that. She needs coffee."

Rio shut the door behind them, leaving Agatha in peace for a few moments. She found herself drifting back off to sleep almost immediately, so exhausted from the previous night and the entirety of the last month away from her family. She didn't sleep very well without her human pillow, Rio, or the little bundle of energy they'd made together (sperm donor or not, there was no way to convince Agatha that Nicky wasn't biologically Rio's son, not when they shared so many similar features.)

Her ex-colleagues had been trying to get back in touch with her since she'd emailed her resignation, insisting that they could increase her pay if she would just stay with the company. Agatha refused to even entertain the idea. There was no amount they could pay her that would justify her doing 85% of the work in a team of four people. And they were all local while she had to fly across the country for it? No way.

She hoped Kale Kare would be a better fit. She was almost certain it would be. And Agatha would happily watch her old company sink like the Titanic in the meantime.

She was awoken next by a soft kiss on her cheek. Agatha's eyes fluttered open to see Rio standing above her, holding a steaming cup of coffee in her hand.

"Morning, my love," Rio said, "again. Coffee?"

"Marry me," Agatha sighed, sitting up as she took the offered cup.

"We're already married," Rio laughed.

"I was talking to the coffee," Agatha huffed, making Rio bark out a laugh. She bumped the other woman's shoulder as she sat down on the bed next to her, her own cup of steaming tea in her hands. Nicky was at the end of the bed, holding his red and green striped stocking, stuffed with as many gifts as Rio could fit into her backpack without arising suspicion from the boy.

"Santa Clause brought me my stocking!" he told them. "He said that he realized we weren't home, so he decided to just bring this, but all my other gifts are under our tree."

"Well, that was nice of him," Agatha said. "We should send him a thank you letter for being so thoughtful."

"Yeah!" Nicky said. "He didn't bring your stockings, though." He shrugged, sympathetically.

"That's okay," Agatha said. "I'm sure we'll manage until tonight."

"Open your presents," Rio encouraged. "Show us what you got!"

Nicky got some toy figurines from his favorite show, a mini bunny squishmallow, two toy cars, and goodie bag of his favorite candies. He let out a squeal for every gift he unwrapped, hugging them all against his chest as he bounced on the bed with excitement.

"Wow, if that's just what Santa brought you in your stocking, I can't imagine what he has under the tree for you," Agatha said.

"We may need to take out a second mortgage," Rio whispered in her ear. Agatha snorted, pressing her face to her wife's shoulder.

"Can I go play with my new toys?" Nicky asked, already jumping off the bed with all his goodies in his arms.

"Go ahead," Agatha said, "but leave the candy here. No sweets before breakfast."

"Okay," Nicky groaned, dropping the bag onto the bed, before running around to Agatha's side, throwing himself into her arms. "I'm glad we could be together for Christmas," he murmured into her shoulder. Agatha felt tears spring to her eyes as she hugged him back, pressing a kiss to his hair.

"Me too, baby," she said. "Now, go play. We gotta start getting ready to head back to the airport in a couple of hours."

"Okay!" Nicky exclaimed, already running back to the door, pulling it closed behind him as he entered the main room of their hotel suite.

Agatha took another sip of her coffee and sighed as she leaned into Rio's side. "I didn't get a gift for you this year," she said, regretfully. "I didn't have the time. I'm sorry."

"You did get a gift for me, actually," Rio said, taking her mug from her hands and placing it on the bedside table next to her own. "You are my gift this year, my love. And I'm yours." Agatha smiled as Rio pressed her lips to hers, Rio's arms encircling her waist as she pulled her closer.

#agatha all along #agathario #rio vidal #agatha harkness #nicky vidal harkness #I may have read the prompt wrong the first time #and wrote a story based on “you're my gift this year”#luckily I looked at it once more before finishing #so it's a little of both #merry christmas

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batwritings · 1 year ago

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Hii, I hope you're doing well! Can I please ask for headcannons for the brothers and dateables (if not everyone, you can choose, but please write for Lucifer, mammon and barbatos) would react if MC offers to put chapstick on their lips.

I know it's a strange ask, but imagine this scenario: It's gotten really cold suddenly (in? On? At?) the devildom and MC notices said character has chapped lips and seems very uncomfortable with it. She offers them her (can be gn!reader but I'm using she/her for better explaining) chapstick and they deny, but she insistist in putting on them, and they feel giddy because she's caring so softly for them 😭😭😭

I in the vibe of soft casual love, stay warm and hydrated 🫶🩷🩷🩷🩷

I don't think this is strange at all! Soft caring actions like that are honestly cute as fuck to me. Enjoy!~

Lucifer The absolute quickest to deny you. The great and powerful Lucifer? Receiving a smidgen of help??? The greatest travesty in all the realms, clearly. But bat your eyes and maybe bring him some Demonus and he might crack. Once you get it on, he didn't realize just how badly his lips were chapped. You'll be offered a small thanks, and a promise of something more substantial for a reward once he has more free time.

Mammon How could the cold affect the great Mammon so much? He simply didn't believe you at first. Fun fact, he knew damn well his lips were chapped as fuck. He just really didn't want to admit he needed the help. Simply subdue him with a kiss after putting on the chap stick and he'll be a puddle of grimm in your hands.

Leviathan <Insert MC doing the inhale "BOI" meme here> Being a shut-in means Levi doesn't exactly get out into the cold much. Therefor, he's a little more susceptible to the effects of the cold than his brothers. One trip to get a new Ruri-chan figurine and he's got chapped lips for days. Thankfully he has you to thoughtfully apply chapstick to his lips which leaves him with a persistent blush every time the two of you cross paths.

Satan Oh? It honestly hadn't crossed his mind. While he's no Asmo, Satan does take pretty good care of himself. He's actually the most lenient of the brothers in letting you help. If this were the Nightbringer universe, he's fight you a bit more. Yet the wrestle session would be a nice release for his anger, even if he couldn't go full force on you. He'd thank you by letting you put the chapstick on, blushing in denial of enjoying the attention.

Asmodeus Asmo, sweetheart, darling, you can't use lip gloss as chapstick, I'm sorry. And that'll be his excuse, mark my words! You have to explain to him that sadly, most gloss doesn't cover the chapping and he'll be more than amenable to let you put it on him. In true Asmo-chan fashion, of course he'll need to test it on you, just to be sure. A reward for helping him always look beautiful.

Beelzebub This man's gonna try to eat the chapstick, and no, you cannot convince me otherwise. You know how people see a big animal and go "if not friend, why friend shaped"? Beel, sweet himbo lad that he is will legit ask you, "if not food, why food smelling?". Did you have to reapply it multiple times because he kept licking it off? Yes. Did he complain to you every time that it didn't taste nearly as good as it smelled? Also yes. Did he learn his lesson? Nope!

Belphegor He spends ONE (1) NIGHT up in the observatory and ends up with chapped lips. It's rather annoying to him, and he genuinely doesn't hear you the first few times when you offer to put chapstick on for him. Belphie will deny it at first purely on the basis of "I'm not a little kid just because I'm the youngest". Just wait til he gets too tired to fight you on it and you'll get a mumbled little "thank you" before becoming his favorite pillow. Hope you have nothing to do for the next few hours.

Solomon Unsurprisingly enough, it wasn't the cold that got him! It was a spell gone wrong in trying to make a chapstick that would never let your lips chap again. Solomon sighs very defeatedly and sits back with a pout as he lets you put the balm on his lips. For practice purposes, he has you sit down and look over the ingredients to see where he went wrong. May or may not purposefully mess it up again to have you so close again.

Simeon You can't tell me this man wouldn't absentmindedly pick at the chapped parts of his lips. He can't be perfect forever ya'll, he's gotta be a little weird like the rest of us. (/j) You actually catch him in the act which makes Simeon fluster and admit to forgetting his chapstick in his room. His denial of attention and care for you is half-hearted and he very quickly crumbles at the chance to be so close to you. Maybe he'll have to forget his chapstick more often.

Barbatos This man is far too busy to realize his lips were chapped. It was one of those rare instances that you two crossed paths that you noticed and offered to put some on for him. In another rare instance, you notice Barbatos blush slightly because he didn't realize he'd looked so out of sorts. He had meetings with Lord Diavolo later that day as well, so yes! Please! Quickly! You make sure to add a generous amount in the hopes that it would last him through his meetings.

Diavolo His lips were chapped? Truly? It's only then that the demon lord to be realizes how absolutely flooded he'd been and that Barbatos had even told him about that earlier in the day. When you offer, Diavolo tries to politely decline, asking you not to waste what you have on him. It only takes a few minutes of remembering how busy he'll be and how this is absolutely a chance to know even a smidgen more info about you that he relents and lets you apply it gingerly to his lips.

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sleepyangelkami · 2 years ago

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HELLO PLEASE A DRABBLE OF PASTORS DAUGHTER WHERE THE READER, ELLIE AND JOEL HAVE DINNER TOGETHER EVERYNIGHT AND AFTER DINNER THEY ALL HAVE A MOVIE NIGHT WHERE THE THREE OF THEM BICKER WHICH MOVIE TO PICK AND THEY PLAY ROCK, PAPER, SCISSORS WHOEVER WINS GETS TO PICK AND WHENEVER ELLIE LOSES SHES A SORE LOSER SHE TELLS WHOEVER WINS THEY CHEATED AND WILL BULLY FOR THE NEXT FOLLOWING WEEKS SHE WOULD HOLD A GRUDGE AND WILL ABSOLUTELY BRING THIS UP WHENEVER SHE CAN 😭

PASTORS DAUGHTER DRABBLE e.williams

☆ WORD COUNT - 3.1K

ELLIE WILLIAMS X FEM!READER

☆ SUMMARY - basically the ask lmao. ellie, joel and reader all have dinner and a movie night, it was a tradition by now. ellie's a sore loser but she's also a bit of a softball when it came to you and joel did not stop to think before teasing her. in the end, she gives up her pride of losing for you to get a good night sleep (p.s i think that means she likes you)

☆ WARNINGS - fluff, stubborn ass ellie, cuddling, joel being an absolute nightmare (but it's okay because it's cute), intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

SERIES MASTERLIST

"ellie, that was your fourth round!" you all but giggled, dropping your fork as you held a hand up to your mouth so you could chew without showing off the food inside there. you and ellie had done many rounds of rock paper scissors and she still was not happy with the result. given, the fact that you had won every single one of them.

"last one, promise." though that was what she said two games ago. rolling your eyes with a soft giggle you gave joel a look who was busy rolling his own, much more used to his step daughters antics than you were.

finishing the food in your mouth, you rubbed your hands together before turning in your seat. ellie excitedly grinned at you, rubbing her own hands together only much more swiftly. "rock, paper, scissors, one, two... three!" on unison, you both shot out different hand gestures, hers being a scissors and yours being paper. you had won four out of five rounds, she had won one, just one. but seemingly that was enough for her because the competitive girls arms shot into the air and she immediately began cheering. you and joel laughed at her stupid antics while you couldn't help but adore the atmosphere in the large kitchen, so much better than your house. when you had dinners there, you didn't even converse to one another unless about school or church, this house didn't even say grace. in a strange way, it was refreshing.

she breathed out a large breath as she cracked all her knuckles causing you to cringe with a giggle. "okay, phew i got this." cracking her neck as she looked at joel who already knew he was going to win. you didn't know how the man did it but it seemed as though he won every single rock papers scissors known to man. and it was even worse knowing that the winner got to choose which movie you would be watching that night. at first, it was almost accidental how you ended up watching a movie with joel and ellie on the couch, sandwiched between them and now it was practically a ritual.

"whatever." he rolled his eyes with his, as you liked to call it, mr. texas accent. "lay it on me." as he pulled his arms out, barely even stretching. you watched intently as you plopped another chicken nugget into your mouth with your fork, ellie was the first done her dinner, then again she always was. it always surprised you too, seeing as she spent so much time talking during dinner that it seemed she wouldn't get so much as a fry inside her mouth during the duration of the time. and yet time and time again she continued to shock you and joel both, despite the fact he had raised her.

"rock, paper, scissors, one, two... three!" joel had a rock, ellie had a scissors. joel didn't hesitate to thump his fist onto the younger girls two finger she had outstretched. you giggled as she made a noise of complaint, shoving his hands away. "i need some real competition." joel fawned boredom as he turned to face you, a proud grin on his face. he always looked to you, when he joked, you weren't too sure why. maybe it was because he knew how much ellie had already heard each and every one of them repeated so often or maybe it was because he knew how easily he could make you burst into a fit of giggles.

"best of three!" she turned the older man. before he could protest, she yelled over him again. "best of three then we're done." she always was the competitive type. so, knowing his daughter and knowing the fact that she wasn't easily persuaded, he gave in. he outstretched his hands again, reading them in the fist—open palm combo. "rock, paper, scissors, one, two... three!" and suddenly while joel did paper, ellie did some, as she'd describe it, 'illegal move'. she pushed her hands to make a round and hollow circle. "black hole!" she yelled, pushing it right into his face. he swatted her arms away almost instantly, grimacing as he knocked her back onto her chair, you sat with a sloppy grin on your face, giggling at ellie who looked up at her father like a kicked puppy, she deserved it, however, for the many times she had already begged for a 'best of three' that day.

"that's not even a part of the game." he picked up his fork and began to eat again while ellie picked the sausage off your plate, knowing there was no way in hell she'd get away with stealing some of joel's food. whatever, she thought, knowing you'd happily comply. "my turn to pick again."

"Boo!" ellie cheered, almost expecting you to join in. the last time it was joel's turn to pick and he didn't give it up to one of you, he chose possibly the worst movie ever. it was some horror movie with way too much blood. as a kid, you were never really allowed to watch scary movies and by really i mean ever. sure, you heard noises coming out of ashley's room some nights when she had ellie over and they were watching some creepy movie. you always knew when they were having a marathon because the house always stunk of popcorn after, and of course the only movies ashley and ellie watched were horror films. nevertheless, when you first properly watched one it was with joel and ellie, and it was safe to say that if popcorn sat on that couch it would have been on the ground from how many times you jumped. you all but held onto ellie's arm the whole time and she couldn't deny the fact that she felt like 'the shit' when you did so. "you're literally not even playing rock paper scissors right." your brows furrowed, was there necessarily a wrong way? "you're a cheat."

joel rolled his eyes. "you can't cheat in rock paper scissors." he commented, beginning to get up and clear his plate off. you took that as your cue, shoving the rest of the cut up sausages into ellie's hand to which she didn't even spare you a glance, shoving one inside her mouth as you picked up her plate with your own, cleaning it off.

"yeah well..." she was stuck for something to say. "you did." wow. really very good job, ellie!

joel moved toward the sink, to which you instantly stepped forward. "here, i can do it." you shared a small smile with him, you were hoping to get on his good side extra today so he wouldn't pick another horror, maybe he would feel a little... sympathetic?

"thank you, daughter I should have had." turning to ellie who simply rolled her eyes, grumbling something under her breath. it only took around twenty minutes to clean up around the kitchen with joel, after everything he said, ellie found some way to turn it back to the rock, paper, scissors 'tournament' is what she called it. "i think you're a sore loser." joel commented as he pushed the chocolates and jelly bears into two separate bowls, you were standing in front of the microwave, letting the popcorn pop. you found it funny that ellie wasn't helping make anything for you knew she would indefinitely be the one to eat almost everything.

her mouth fell agape. "me?!" she turned to you, who gave her a raised eyebrow. "me? I'm the sore loser?" you shook your head, stifling a laugh at the competitive girl. "you're the one who cheated!" the microwave beeped.

you opened the door and grasped the brown bag between your finger tips. "didn't you use the blackhole?" you commented, pushing the bag into the older girls clutch so she could open it for you. after ellie saw you attempt to open it one day, holding it far away so the heat wouldn't seep into your skin, she instantly activated her 'knight in shining armor' ego and came to the rescue. "pretty sure that was cheating."

joel couldn't help but laugh at the look ellie gave you, then turned to him. "see what you've done?!" in disbelief. "you've corrupted my girlfriend so much that she's on your side!" she really was one for dramatics. rolling your eyes, you took the bag of popcorn off her, ignoring the way she was sitting on the table instead of a chair and poured the contents into one of the larger bowls. buttered popcorn, because ellie simply was that picky.

you turned around to joel who stood with a bowl of m&m's along with a bowl of jelly bears. "what movie we watching tonight, joel?" standing so your back was against ellie's arm, she moved it to snake around your waist.

he grinned at you both. "you'll see." not giving you any more context towards it. "but i think you'll like it, y/n."

ellie furrowed her brows. "what about me?" she faked offence. truly, she adored you and joel's relationship, she adored the way he already begun to think of you as his daughter in law because she was sure that she would marry you one day. so, she couldn't help but grin when you shared inside jokes with him or when he would come into the bedroom all flustered because he was interrupting a make out session, that one didn't have much to do with you necessarily, ellie just thought it was hilarious.

"you never like the movies i pick." joel excused as he left the room with the two bowels in his hands. you turned to ellie who was giving you a look, you simply shrugged with your lips tugged upwards.

the girl turned so that you were standing between her legs, her hands still attached to your waist. "can you believe this?" a mocking tone as you giggled, shaking your head. she too, smiled, despite the situation as she leaned in closer, pressing a kiss to your lips. you kissed her back, much more experienced than before seeing as she had been the very one who had taught you to do so.

the girl made a noise of complaint when you pulled away, hands still on your hips and tugging you closer. suddenly, she wished to simply skip the movie and have you in her bed. "ellie." you all but whined as she began to kiss up your jaw after realising you weren't going to give her your lips. you pushed her face up to look at you, smile gracing your lips. "the popcorn's gonna get cold."

she knew you were right. "fuck the popcorn, princess." you simply rolled your eyes and moved backwards though there was still a simper on your lips.

"no thank you." you grinned and picked up the large bowl. there was a small scowl on the girls face as she followed you into the sitting room though it quickly disappeared when she dug into the m&m's forgetting every last conversation she had. you plopped yourself down onto the middle of the couch while ellie sat at one side of you, joel at the other. he had his legs down on the ground, spread apart while his head leaned on his hand, he was such a.... dad. (a/n: idk if this makes sense i don't have a dad 💀) he glanced forward at ellie who was stuffing her face.

she looked up upon realising joel was staring. "what?" she spoke, muffled due to the food in her mouth.

giggling, you picked up a jelly bear and plopped in your mouth. "i'm starting the damn movie." joel chuckled before leaning forward and grabbing the remote. he had already put in the disk and let the introduction begin. he pressed the top button as you snuggled into the couch, head leaning against ellie's arm as it always did, the familiar sound of the dvd beginning played.

the movie was an old western movie, and when you saw old you saw old. so old that the graphics were next to horrid, however, unalike ellie you were not blabbing on about the graphics and instead watching intently with tight lips as you continued to snuggle against your girlfriend. it was a movie about romance, which you found funny seeing as you simply could not imagine joel being a hopeless romantic when he was young. however, he must have watched this movie a whole lot when he was young for he wouldn't stop talking about how much better it looked when he was young, how now it looked completely... off. "i mean, even the rock looks fake." pointed past the cowboy and to the rock that truly looked as though it were made from cardboard.

"could have told you that much." ellie grumbled, referring to the previous rock, paper, scissors game again. you slowly looked up at her to give her a 'are you serious?' look in which joel gave her the very same one. she simply grumbled once more and turned back to the tv.

the movie continued. after a while, joel and ellie's babbles began to slow down, finally. a couple times, ellie would refer back to the game from earlier with sly comments, relating it to what was playing in front of them. you had to say, some of them sounded very creative.

leaning against ellie, warmth consumed you. after a while, she had thrown her arm around you while your head sat against the side of her chest, knee's close to your own chest. joel was leaned against the back of the chair, eyes opening and closing heavily as if he were on the brink of sleep. you, however, had passed out long ago. it came to the part after the two main characters had kissed, and life was seemingly good for the cowboy and the farmgirl. however, ellie was sort of glad that you had been knocked out after gaining the warmth of her body along with the dimness of the room, only light source being the rather large tv. she was glad because if you stayed up any longer, you would have seen the scene in which the cowboy died heroically saving the farm girl and she knew she'd never hear the end of it. you were very sympathetic, in tv shows and movies, it was astounding how many times you cried watching the same damn movie over and over again. ellie never understood how, she could get the first time but when you watched the same movie over and over, very same plot, able to quote any and every line from the movie, you knew what was destined to happen and yet you sat with tears in your eyes every time, it never failed to shock her. which, you could say, was what made you surprised. she watched you cry every time, heard your sniffles as the sad part approached, she knew what was destined to happen and yet she seemed so utterly astonished every time the tears built up.

the movie didn't last long after that, a funeral and a couple family members sobbing at the cowboy's grave, his best friend even left his cowboy had on the top of the muck. yes, ellie was glad you were asleep. when the credits began to roll, joel shook his head, shaking the sleep from his eyes. he leaned forward, grasping the remote in his hands, pressing the pause button so the music would stop blaring.

stretching his arms, he turned his head towards you and ellie, instantly, a smirk appeared on his lips. "aw—"

"shut up." ellie cut him off. the scene was almost humorous, big bad ellie williams sat cuddled with a sleeping y/n l/n.

"look at you two." he cooed mockingly at the way ellie's arm was thrown around you, her hand was drawing circles on your side, however, the minute she saw joel's eyes flicker towards you, she instantly stopped her movements.

"seriously, shut the fuck up." she watched as his arm outstretched, cooing at you both. she swatted him away roughly. "you're gonna wake her." she hissed at the man, shoving his arms away from you and her both. "listen." she spoke, hands catching grasp of both his arms. with a large smirk, he stopped his movements and awaited her next words. "you pretend like this never happened and i'll stop saying you cheated."

his brows raised and his eyes widened for a second. ellie williams? admitting to defeat? he wasn't sure what spell you had him under but it surely seemed to be working. "hmm." looking at you both with a teasing smile before cocking his head to the side. "fine." she breathed out a sigh. "loser."

"fuck you." she roughed, shoving a leg out to kick him as he attempted to reach for the remote. he simply chuckled at her, switching off the tv.

he turned to his step daughter after setting the remote onto the glass tv stand. "you get her to bed." gesturing to your sleeping frame, cheek squished against ellie's body. "and don't you go stayin' up too late either."

"yeah, whatever you say old man." placing the last few jelly's into her mouth as he stacked up the bowls, moving towards the door. he looked back momentarily at you both. the way ellie williams looked down at your sleeping body was simply undescribable. he never thought he would see ellie so fond of someone. you were truly an angel sent from heaven for them, you fixed them both, joel didn't realise just how much you meant to him until then. you were good for them, not only for ellie, you didn't only soothe her reoccuring anger and her not so nice thoughts but you mended him in a way he didn't truly think was possible. he loved ellie, of course he did and he wouldn't replace her for the world but he couldn't deny that he had begun to love you as a daughter too. maybe it was your innocence, that innocence in which reminded him of sarah. all he knew was that when he looked back into the living room he knew that this was exactly how he wanted everything to go. he often worried for ellie, how she'd do in school, what she'd do after but with you, he didn't have to. he knew you wouldn't only plough on, you'd drag ellie right behind you. and she'd follow, of course she would. she would follow you anywhere.

"goodnight, ellie."

she looked up from your sleeping face. "night, joel."

main masterlist/ellie's masterlist

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jumpywhumpywriter · 3 months ago

Text

Vampire Captures Vampire Hunter to Use as Bloodbag part 35

Warnings: weak human pet, vampire carewhumper, recovery whump, intimidation

This series is finally BACK! (mostly because I hit a motivation block with Villain's Coffee Shop Oops 😅)

But if he wanted to survive, he had to appease his captor, so he stayed quiet and kept his bitter thoughts to himself, closing his eyes and drifting off.

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

The next morning after breakfast Alex presented him with a large box, dropping it ungracefully on the bed next to him. “Courtesy of Anisa,” he announced.

Mallory raised a quizzical eyebrow, but opened it to find several giant cases stuffed full of blueberries. He felt stupid for how excited and grateful he was over such a simple gift.

"You kept your word," he noted aloud.

Alex crossed his arms over his chest. "One thing about me, hunter, is that I rarely lie, if ever."

"I'm beginning to see that," Mallory mumbled to himself.

"Just don't make a mess, or I'll take them away," Alex warned, then left him alone to enjoy himself.

Mallory eagerly ripped open the first cardboard case he saw and was taken aback to find a folded piece of paper resting atop the packaged berries. He cautiously took it in his hands, gently unfolding it. He wasn't sure what he expected, but it certainly wasn't this.

It was a note, handwritten in elegant cursive writing so beautiful it could be framed and called ‘art’.

Dear hunter:

Hope Alex is treating you better now. Him asking me about blueberries seems like a good start, at least it means he's putting in some effort now to your care, with my guidance. I have given him many suggestions on how to improve your current living situation.

He's terribly lonely and a grouchy prick at times, but I think eventually you'll find a way to live together peacefully. Be patient with him, he’s lived through a lot that’s altered his perspective on the value of life. It will take time for him to come out of his guarded shell.

If you ever need anything, tell Alex to pass the message on to me, and I'll see what I can do to help.

—Written with great sympathy,

Anisa Winters

Mallory couldn't help the small smile that cracked his lips. At least someone cared about his well-being – even if Anisa was another vampire.

He gorged himself on blueberries like they were candy until his stomach felt like it would burst and he couldn't fit any more. They tasted heavenly, his small slice of joy amidst all the misery.

Once he was satisfied and full, he set the remaining cases on the floor next to the bed, cleaning himself up in the bathroom before crawling back under the plush covers to rest. If only every day could be like this.

But… maybe they could be, if he stopped fighting it.

Mallory wrinkled his nose at the thought, scolding himself that the notion had even crossed his mind in the first place. He’d sworn to himself to be defiant and go down fighting no matter what, and yet… giving in kept sounding more and more appealing the longer he dwelled on it. And that terrified him more than anything – that he might lose his mind to delirium and madness, that he might get used to being trapped here as a vampire’s pet. That he might stop wanting to escape in some twisted way.

Mallory shivered uneasily, pulling the covers up over his head as though the simple act would fight off all the voices warring in his head, the vampire hunter inside him yelling at him to fight, while his logical side knew there was no point. Alex was a vampire. Which meant he would always win, so long as Mallory was weaponless.

And even when I had a weapon, look where it got me, Mallory thought to himself, remembering how he'd stabbed his captor in the chest. It had only made his situation a hundred times worse. He couldn’t go through that again. The phantom pain was still vivid and sharp, a pointed reminder of the harsh consequences of disobedience.

But he couldn't just accept his new life as a walking food source! A life like that was no life at all.

But there's nothing I can do to save myself, he admitted grimly, and it hurt to even acknowledge that cold truth. Even if I escape the mansion, I have no way of finding my way home. I'm lost out here where no one will ever find me...

⏪️ Back Next ⏩️

Masterlist

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @togzy @floral-comet-whump

@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222 @nevermore-ramblings @mj-or-say10

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itsthesinbin · 1 year ago

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Ooooh could you do a continuation or the likes for that one Ice King x Reader?

https://www.tumblr.com/itsthesinbin/728472237009780736/okay-but-how-do-ice-king-and-reader-meet-did

By the sounds of it the two knew each other before :>

i did a sort of continuation here, but i am MORE than glad to do more of this lil au. this got. a lot longer than i thought it would. but maybe they Did know each other. just a little.

Ice King (Adventure Time)

Dating the Ice King was... odd, to say the least. He was hard to be with at first. He was clingy. He was manic. He could be a little aggressive- not dangerous, just cranky- if you ended up ignoring him for too long; too long being subjective to his needs that day. He was unbelievably frustrating.

But at the same time... he was, strangely, the nicest guy you've ever dated. He'd get cranky, but once he saw you weren't leaving him he didn't push you. He was clingy, but it was because he was lonely. He was manic, but you knew it wasn't his fault. He brought you gifts ranging from flowers to gems to even making ice sculptures in your likeness. It was flattering.

He had made a little ice elevator to get you into the castle easier, when you visited. And by Glob he was always delighted to see you. Every time he heard the elevator chugging its' way up the mountain, you could hear him.

"Gunther they're coming- is there anything in my beard?" he'd ask, followed by a little "wenk". You'd come up just in time to see the little penguin pecking something out of his master's beard. Then Gunther would waddle over to you, making Ice King screech in surprise and try to rub whatever food was in his beard out. You bit back a snort as you picked up your favorite little guy.

"You look fine, IK, calm down," you laughed. He grumbled, flustered and fixing his crown. You grinned as you set the penguin down. You gave him a hug in greeting, and as always he was a little tense before returning it tightly.

"So, what'd you wanna show me?" He had asked you to come over cause he found something "wicked sweet". That seemed to click the lightbulb on.

"Oh yeah! C'mon, sweet thang," he laughed as he yoinked you up like you weight nothing. You yelled in surprise, holding onto him as he flew through the castle. You couldn't help but laugh as well, enjoying the short flight.

"This is my "the past" room- you are the ONLY person aside from Gunther I've let in here," he explained as he set you down. You looked around at all the old stuff in awe, recognizing a lot of it immediately from your time period. You heard him fiddle with some things as you picked through the items.

The old suit jacket he'd give you to wear when you were cold- which you immediately put on as per usual. Some old books- a few of which were written by a Simon.... Petrikov. That sounded familiar...

Then it clicked. You used to live just down the street from him. You used to attend the same book club together, before he stopped coming due to his research. You remember him showing off a book he had gotten published to the group before he stopped joining as often. You'd make him food and check in on him, when Betty couldn't.

"Where is that damn thing?" you heard Ice King mutter. You looked at the jacket you were wearing, turning the book over. A picture of Simon, wearing the exact same jacket.

While your boyfriend was busy, you sifted through the junk pile. Newspaper clippings covered in mad scrawling that spelled out pleas for help and forgiveness. Multiple pictures of Simon and letters written by him to various people. A picture of a young, but now familiar, girl with writing on the back. You stared at another newspaper clipping, a ball of ice in your stomach unrelated to the cold of the ice kingdom. Simon stood next to a sickeningly familiar crown that sat upon a cushion, smiling as wide as can be at his discovery.

A familiar jingle jolted you out of your thoughts and you dropped the article. You whipped around to see Ice King standing next to a cracked tv that was now playing Cheers. He waved his hands in a "tada" motion.

"I got a bunch of old junk from WAAAAY back in the day, so I thought you'd like a little marathon! I can go make popcorn," he offered with a grin. Your mouth hung open as your eyes darted from him to the old tv show. You tried to speak, but all that came out was a soft sobbing noise as realization set in. Immediately, his face fell.

"Oh- What, do you not like this show? I can, uh... I'm sure I got something-!" You cut him off by nearly tackling him in a hug. You held him so tight, knuckles turning white as you gripped the fabric of his robe. Your knees felt weak, giving out and making him drop to the floor with you.

"M... Man, if I knew you liked the show this much, I'd have done this sooner," he tried to joke, not really understanding why you were crying. Thankfully, he just held you and scooted around so you both could see the tv. Not that you really watched it, being too busy reeling from your newfound knowledge.

Gunther, sweet as can be, brought in popcorn and plopped his little self in your lap. You could use the extra comfort. You felt Ice King's hand run up and down your back, and new he was taking glances at you to see if you were alright. For his sake, you pretended to watch the show and forced down some popcorn. He seemed to relax a little, thinking you were fine. You were anything but. However...

What could you even do?

#adventure time #ice king #ice king x reader #scenario #Doe the Human

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del-thetiredwriter · 2 years ago

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Ok but what if in the “do you love me” series, Aegon sought the help of a sorceress to “heal his wife?”

Read these before you read: Do you love me, say you love me

Firstly thank you for your request. Please feel free to write your opinions .I really enjoyed while writing it. İt isn’t exactly what you requested but I hope you like it. It’s about what happens after sorcerers “heals his wife”

Warning: disturbing themes, drugging etc. English is my second language

You woke up with the sunlight coming through the window. “Your husband Aegon” was hugging you tightly. You tried to wake him up but he playfully pulled you towards him and kissed you. After breakfast together, your husband reluctantly went to the small council meeting. You spent time in the library until tea time. Then dinner. Finally, a romantic hot night and the day is over again.

It was like this every day for about three weeks. Such a perfect life…it's like a dream.

Three weeks ago when you woke up you found yourself in an unfamiliar room with people you didn't know. Then a silver-haired man cheerfully hugged you. You couldn't understand what was going on. You pushed the man. You couldn't remember where you were, who this man was, who the people around you were, who you were... You couldn't remember anything. You were panicked, you were afraid.

But fortunately the silver-haired man who had been by your side ever since you awoke - your husband Aegon - explained you everything.

Your name was Y/n Velaryon. You were married to your husband, Aegon Targaryen, the king of Westeros. There was an accident a few months ago. Although he did not explain what the accident was and how it happened, you fell into a deep sleep after the accident and did not wake up in any way. But miraculously, you woke up.

You couldn't believe Aegon at first, and he might have taken advantage of your amnesia to lie to you but as the days passed, you began to trust him and believe him.

Your days were peaceful. You had a loving husband and he would do anything for you. However, while you were walking around the court , the gaze of the servants and guards bothered you. They looked as if they had seen the dead. Especially when was Queen Alicent starting to turn a blind eye to you and repent. According to Aegon you were a loved person why did they treat you that way?

Again after the usual breakfast, Aegon whined and forced his way to the small council meeting. You made your way to the library. While examining the books on the shelves,A book hidden behind other books caught your attention in the bottom corner of the shelf. The book was about Targaryen history. While turning the pages, a piece of paper fell off. You took the paper and began to read it. Something was written in Valyrian. You started reading the paper.

If the person reading this is Y/N Velaryon, read this carefully. This is written by me Y/N Velaryon. It is true that we/you are Aegon's spouse but everything you know now is a lie. I/you actually committed suicide, so I died, we died, you died. That's the reason for the scar on your neck. As for Aegon, I don't know how he did it, but he resurrected us. That's why everyone in the court looks at you as if they've seen you dead because you, me, we are dead. Also, this is not our first awakening since the so-called 'accident'. You just don't remember. The reason you lost your memory is because of the medicines given to you at tea time. Don't drink. No matter what run away to a place where we can't find Aegon's body.

You couldn't believe what you read. It was hastily written. You wanted to tear the paper but what if it's true then the way people look at you, that scar on your neck. Besides, Aegon never explained to you what the accident was. You placed the paper between the book and hid the book in to its old place.

It wouldn't hurt to try. You secretly stopped taking your meds. Your memory was slowly coming back. To escape, you had to play your cards well. You shouldn't have cracked anything.

You had a romantic dinner with Aegon the night you planned to escape. You got him really drunk and then one hot night. Aegon fell asleep from exhaustion. You took one last look at Aegon before leaving . And you left the room silently.

According to your plan, there was a small hole in one of the castle walls. A hole big enough for you to pass through. Just as you were about to run away, a hand touched your shoulder .

“What are you doing here."

You turned your back. You saw Aegon. No way he was supposed to be asleep.

"N-no you , it can't-"

“My sweet wife. Did you think I didn't notice? This time, I thought we could continue our perfect life as before, even though your memory came back, but you let me down.”

“Why did you resurrect me! If I wanted to live, I would live! What you have done is a great sin. Gods-"

Aegon forced you into his arms. You tried to resist, but he was stronger than you.

You went back to your room and Aegon threw you on the bed. He took a bottle from the drawer and then forced you to drink it.

"Open your mouth"

"What will you do to me! What's in this bottle?

Aegon looked at you and smiled.

“I will just make sure everything is as it should be”

And after swallowing the liquid in the bottle, everything went black.

You woke up. A silver-haired man hugged you.

"You're finally awake, my love."

“My love? Who are you?"

“I am your husband, Aegon."

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cosmicdeaths · 1 year ago

Text

i'm writing this because i don't know else to do to stop crying. and because there is little else my helpless hands can do to change this horrifying reality we're living in. i am sudanese. and my mother just told me that we've lost yet another relative in the ongoing civil war in sudan. i've also learned that the small lovely town i grew up in, Shambat, in Khartoum Bahri, is currently plagued by this fever the origin of which is yet to be identified. from what little we know whoever gets this fever just does not wake up to see the sun of another day. it might be because the dead bodies people buried in their backyards in a desperate attempt to grieve and honor them are unearthed by the rain. it might be because the entire health system has collapsed months ago and there is no way for these people to attain any form of medical help. we've lost family members with chronic conditions simply because they couldn't get medical attention until it was too late. my own grandfather died of complications that could've easily been managed had they gotten him the proper treatment. we've lost people to this fever, too. a brother and the very next day, his sister. and more keep dying. it hurts and angers me that no one's talking about this. and just as equally my heart breaks for each and every palestinian out there, and i keep praying for them and hoping to be half as patient as they are. i know what it's like to be so scared your entire body goes numb, i know what it's like to be displaced and leave behind everything you've ever known with little hope of ever coming back. to survive and not really feel like you did. i saw this video of a palestinian woman holding her dead baby and just begging to nurse him one more time. i see palestinian men breaking down into tears while trying to comfort children, literal babies, whom they pulled out of the rubble. a little girl who's saying god why didn't you take me along with my mother, god, you know i can't live without her. and i suddenly remember that i know of a friend of my family who just sits there crying helplessly every night because she doesn't know what to tell her starving nieces who are too young to understand that they can't get food because of all the shooting outside. i keep seeing entire villages in the west being completely wiped off the map, reduced to nothing but a black dot of ashes and ruin. and this isn't even a first; ethnical cleansing in the western areas of sudan went on for decades and no one even bat an eye. my heart will never stop bleeding for Darfur. i know of a group of boys who were stuck for days in the very university i went to, waiting for a ceasefire for days on end until one of them died of fear or starvation or illness or whatever it is that we still don't know to this very day, and they had to bury him in the very field they used to play football matches in. a field every student in that university knows and has been to and laughed and cried in. girls are raped and sexually enslaved in terrifying numbers. the biggest maternity hospital in the country, the one i was born in, was looted and patients kicked out. these are all stories that will never leave my memory til the day i die. they're all deaths i will never forgive nor stop mourning. i won't despair and i won't give up, but the heart aches and cracks, and the tears run and run and leave crevices behind. the world is an ugly, ugly place. only hope and solidarity can save us. my sudanese and palestinian brothers and sisters, you are not alone. and you never will be.

#sudan #sudan crisis #sudan conflict #palestine #free palestine #gaza #free gaza #may allah put an end to all this pain #Keep Eyes on Sudan

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akutasoda · 1 year ago

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Hi there! Can I please request separately Nikolai, Fyodor and Sigma x reader (preferably male but gn is fine too!) with the ability to disarm them with ease (and with no fear). Like, the character could be mad or worried about something and our tall boi reader can literally pick them up to shut them up. meanwhile, the characters can't talk. They're in disbelief and shock about the sheer audacity (and reader being strong as hell despite his lack of visible muscle). After a few seconds, reader will ask something along the lines of, 'Cool, are you okay now?' and when the character nods, he just puts them down and gestures for them to continue talking. This is a weird request, I know, I got inspiration from all those aggressive cats who suddenly stop being aggressive and just become confused once picked up XD.

unusual calming down

synopsis - how are they when their lover takes a different approach to calming them down

includes - fyodor, nikolai, sigma

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, slight crack/angst, wc - 793

a/n: Hi! i wrote gn as i only write gender neutral and female

fyodor dostoevsky ★↷

↪you knew full well that your lover was a powerful man, physically maybe not but he was dangerous to say the least.

↪he was also rather unpredictable. but if there was anything you could say for sure about him was that he would never hurt you. maybe unintentionally or if he deemed you useless but you never dwelled on those thoughts to much.

↪so you had no hints of hesitation when you would force him to take care of himself. that wasn't something he was great at doing.

↪fyodor would often spend hours upon hours sat at the very same chair staring at the same screens. very rarely however, he would get extremely annoyed and you would be on the recieving end of that anger sometimes.

↪sometimes thing's wouldn't go to plan or he got mad at his 'insignificant' subordinates and his mood would sour. so when you decided to go talk to him about taking a break for a while, unknowing of his attitude, he couldn't help but lash out at you.

↪and reasonably, you didn't take that. two problems could be solved in the same action - you didn't hesitate to immediately close the gap between you and him before picking him up.

↪you had little fear of his ability, he wouldn't use it on you and he was too confused at the moment to do so. for the first time in ages, fyodor was too stunned to speak. how dare you just pick him up like this.

↪and even when you sat him back down, he was in shock. but in his disbelief he became more preferable to talk to and more willing to finally take a break and rest with you - probably because he knew you would just pick him up again of he disagreed.

↪he hated the fact that you could do that too him. but if it was anyone else they'd be dead on the spot.

nikolai gogol ★↷

↪you knew your lover was always one for jokes and such - it'd be weird not to know. but if you really stopped to think about it, you'd never seen him truly angry or even worked up about something.

↪sure you'd seem him get annoyed and could tell when he wasn't doing great as he would always become less eccentric and his face would visibly drop - but you'd never seen him mad.

↪so when he showed up abruptly in front of you in your residence you actually couldn't assume something was up. it was only when he slumped onto your couch that you realised something had happened.

↪ you'd asked him about what he'd been up to and before you knew it, nikolai was spewing out every little detail of his day and getting rather mad.

↪of course, you hadn't seen him this mad before so you had no clue what to do. and so in an abrupt train of thought as he seemed to get more agitated, you picked him up.

↪so abruptly that iy caus nikolai to drop any thought that threatened to spill put of his mouth next. all he could was stare in disbelief at you.

↪but even after he calmed and you put him down, you could tell from taht mischievous glint in his eyes that thos wouldn't be the only time.

sigma ★↷

↪your lover was, for the most part, very calm and often collected. he never really showed anything else to anyone but you.

↪and it would only be natural that he trusted you the most, trusted you to the point to where you could witness the stress taking over his calm composure.

↪it wasn't a surprise that he could become so stressed, he ran an entire casino afterall. for the most part, you always tried your best to help him calm down and express his worries properly.

↪but it seemed today was more stressful than usual. sigma was pacing around his office spewing out any thought or concern he had and he was visibly getting more and more stressed.

↪while you were listening, you would be a fool to be think that your normal methods of helping him would work. and so you came up with a new idea.

↪he only looked at you confused as you walked up to him. but he quickly became rather shocked when you abruptly picked him up like he was nothing.

↪that shock and disbelief soon melted into embarrassment which rendered him utterly speechless. so even after a short while when you asked if he calmed down, all he could do was nod.

↪and he looked slightly confused when you simply asked him to continue but calmer. he thinks he'd die of you ever did that to him again.

#x reader #x gender neutral reader #bsd x reader #bsd x gender neutral reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #bsd x you #bsd fyodor #fyodor x reader #bsd nikolai #nikolai x reader #bsd sigma #sigma x reader

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paikothecateater · 6 months ago

Text

Alright, Danish Slaughterhouse rant.

So I first read this fic a while back. It was recommended to me by a friend. Now, they'd recommended me pretty weird stuff before (Iceland X fridge crack ship stuff) so I was a little bit skeptical when I started reading it. I wasn't super into the hetalia fandom at the time, so I had never seen anyone talking about this fic before.

Now I could rant about how fucking disgusting this story is, but that's already been done. This writer has managed to write a story so bad that people looked over some pretty major stuff.

Like how the writing is a fucking crime against humanity.

First I'd just like to say that I mean no hate towards the person who wrote this fic. It was a long time ago and I doubt they still stand by it. I'm sure they cringe at the thought of having been the one to write it. I will not be mentioning their name as 1) I don't even know it and 2) I don't want anyone harassing them.

It's pretty rare to become infamous in your fandom. Especially writing fan fics. The creator of Gutters, Glassmilk (I believe that's their name) made a fic that was so genuinely good and heartbreaking that they became famous among the fandom. The creator of the Danish slaughterhouse however, because famous in the fandom for making a fic that was genuinely so appalling people couldn't help talking about it.

I'll be using the names they gave the characters to make things easier.

I'll go ahead and bring up what is in my opinion a huge literary crime.

The lack of descriptivism.

I'd like to mention that I've written novels before. I've just been unable to publish them due to the lack of resources. It's hard publishing an English novel in an Arabic nation. Regardless, I think I know a thing or two about this whole process.

Descriptivism is something that I personally think is very important for a good story. This story left so much to be desired. All I could imagine for Mathias' house? Flat, solid colours, generic furniture, unclear structure. It had absolutely no character. You could have given it a design that would have reflected his personality and made it easier to understand the layout with just a few sentences. I know describing a layout is tough because it's a little tricky to stay consistent and it gets a bit repetitive in writing, but an attempt could have at least been made.

When we reach the second half of the fic, it becomes very hard to get invested in the suspense of what's happening because the layout is so confusing. Whenever a hiding place is mentioned, it's crucial that the layout is clear because if it isn't then the following questions will always distract from the anxiety: where is this hiding place in the house? Where is it in reference to the place Mathias is at? How escapable is it?

It genuinely gets too distracting.

Next there is character development.

I don't even have to be the one to say that the portrayal of Mathias' character is extremely butchered. Let's not even mention the weak ass motive for all this, but it is so genuinely weird how shit seems to go from zero to one hundred with this shit. More on that in a second.

The characters are genuinely some of the most one dimensional characters I think I've ever seen. Like seriously? How am I as a reader supposed to route for a wooden plank?

Emil is just 'emo teenager with headphones'

Lukas? 'barely mentioned overprotective brother'

Berwald is pretty much the same with 'overprotective father'

Tino 'every single mom in a survival movie'

And of course Mr. Mathias 'kill kill stab stab because pain and misery is fun?'

See? Incredibly one dimensional. At this point, you might as well route for Mathias to get this bullshit done quicker. None of them have genuinely lovable moments.

Peter is a whole other issue, because if you're a decent human being, you're going to be concerned for the child, but it doesn't change the fact that for the first half, he's also incredibly one dimensional.

Then is another huge issue, the red flags.

We all know what eventually happens between Mathias and Peter. The way this is portrayed is so fucking awful.

You're telling me Peter was found injured in a locked office and no one questioned it? Either Tino and Berwald are awful fucking parents or they're incredibly stupid. Lock picking? The absolute fuck? That doesn't even make a little sense. If it was my child I'd be freaking out. I'd immediately nope the fuck out of there because clearly this is not a safe place for my child. All they do is lightly chastise this poor child and move on?

I've never personally been a fan of Nordic ships because I see their relationship as platonic. I also have other reasons for genuinely disliking these ships, but I won't get into that.

That being said, The Peter situation was not the only or first red flag. Mathias is shown very early on to be very disrespectful of Lukas' boundaries and actually assaulted him. It was just brushed over as relationship drama. What even the fuck?

Then there's the situation with Emil. Arguably the worst one ever.

I hate to say it, but the portrayal of both Peter and Emil post the traumatic situation was actually pretty consistent with someone who has actually been through something like this. With Peter, the mannerisms of a victimised child are all present. Which further reinforces the fact that Tino and Berwald are absolutely brainless and I'll get into that in a second.

With Emil there's the conflicting feelings that come with being victimised by someone you genuinely trusted. The initial panic followed by the Internal conflict. When someone is attacked by someone they trust, there's a very common sense of confusion that follows. I'll try my best to explain it as well as I can.

Realistically, he'll have panicked, screamed, cursed, etcetera during the attack, however, afterwards, in a non-adrenalin induced state, his brain would begin to flood with so many things. There's the anger, hurt, sadness about being attacked. There's the devastating fear that this person who he'd trusted his entire life and relied on is now completely severed from his life. The fear that it'll happen again. And the overwhelming anxiety about having to deal with the situation.

I'll try to make a light comparison here.

Imagine you're in school and have to give a speech for whatever reason. You're in the middle of it, when someone suddenly walks up to you, slaps you across the face and insults you in front of the whole audience. Obviously, everyone saw, no one is blaming you, realistically, no matter what you say, everyone is on your side.

However, the pressure to respond to the situation is overwhelming. You have to address it because it happened and everyone knows it happened. You may still be very emotional about it and it may be too sensitive to talk about immediately, or you're just so confused about how to properly respond. Do you get angry? Do you play the saint and pretend it didn't affect you? Do you pretend it never happened? Regardless, you have to respond because everyone wants to know how it affected you, what happened? Why it happened?, etcetera.

This is exactly the situation Emil is in. So what does Lukas do as a good big brother?

He gently and patiently waits for Emil to open up to him while letting him know that he's safe and that he will be believed no matter what-

I'm just kidding, he violently pushes Emil for a response in a way that could only further traumatise him. He makes him feel like his emotional response isn't valid and that he somehow did something wrong instead of waiting until he's ready to talk or even take matters into his own hands and confront Mathias.

It is fucking horrible.

Then when their fight gets louder and the other three get involved (Berwald, Tino and Peter) and Peter finally confesses to having been hurt Tino puts on this whole caring act like 'oh remember how we taught you about this stuff?'

Bitch, what?

So this is a conversation that has happened before. And you still couldn't recognise the signs that something changed in Peter's behaviour? You teach the child about how to recognise when he's being victimised without teaching yourself how to recognise when your child is being victimised?

What the actual fuck?

I'd like to say that during this scene, Lukas feels guilty for the way he approached the situation which, yes, it was bad, you should be guilty, but it's not like he fucking does anything to rectify it.

Emil listens to Peter talking and has to come to the realisation that he was hurt. That his world was crumbling down. Still, Lukas makes no effort to make him feel supported.

Suddenly, this infuriating scene is interrupted by an even more infuriating one.

Berwald is understandably beating the absolute shit out of Mathias. The others run in and watch until Tino screams for Berwald to stop. Why? Because he's scaring Peter.

Hello? Then get Peter the fuck out. Surely this can't be the priority. Peter will survive watching his attacker get absolutely fucked up. I promise you. He will.

I'd also love to point out the sheer lack of fucks given about Emil and how this is affecting him. I'd like to give Tino the benefit of the doubt and say he was also concerned for Emil, but it doesn't even matter.

So like a fucking idiot, Berwald gets off of Mathias and they all start heading towards the door.

I'd like to mention that Mathias having already shot Emil in the leg was even more incentive for them to leave because even if it was an accident, clearly something is not quite right here. Surely Emil would prefer to heal at home and if Lukas was such a good brother he'd insist on taking Emil home.

Anyway, so, Mathias reveals his true intentions and the hunt begins.

Do I have to mention how stupid this is? A hunt? If he did actually have a motive he'd prefer to go for the easy kill, use those weird shock things and just murder them. If he's too sadistic for that he could also just casually immobilise them and torture them, but no, it has to be a hunt. Sure whatever.

As I said, the layout gets super complicated, but that's not the only issue.

He allegedly shot Emil to even out the playing field, but uh... What about Peter? Oh he gets to team up with the others? That's stupid and also doesn't solve the problem. Now you have to run for your life and lug a child around? It's just so damn weird because he was so committed to things being fair and as such shot him in the fucking leg, but Peter can go to hell?

Berwald and Tino are killed off pretty instantly, so I'll immediately skip onto the other two.

Why was Emil's situation so fucking weird? Also, I'm sorry for the weird topic, but how the fuck does the author think piss works? It's such a weird element to include in the story. It served no purpose to the story as Mathias already knew Emil was in the room. It just made it all grosser.

Also, again with the one dimensional characters. You're telling me Mathias never once felt pity?

It would have improved the story if maybe during the scene where he tries to drown Emil and presumes him dead for him to have a moment of remorse. Tear up about the fact that he murdered someone he cared about. It could've made Emil feel like there was hope for him. Just because your character is a monster that doesn't necessarily make them a psycho. It would've enhanced the story, but no.

And you're telling me after this whole situation everyone is just... Fine? Emil and Peter are just playing together? Emil had to abandon Peter to save himself, surely there will be a bit of tension about that.

Also, Mathias' motive is just bad. It's inconsistent with his character and doesn't make any sense.

This is a hetalia fic, no? There is a rule according to the canon that a nations decisions are secondary to their bosses. That being said, I've never met the Danish royal family, but I doubt the words 'go fuck your entire family' has ever left their mouths.

Another motive could've been that he was just fed up with how he was generally treated by the others. It's a weak motive, but it's better than that bullshit.

Also, the populations of the countries immigrating to Denmark because the Nordics are trapped at Mathias'?

Emil has been on long trips to visit south East Asia. His population stayed put then. So how does this work?

Overall, this fic is just badly written. It needs some serious work. It's inconsistent, dull, confusing, appalling and just downright criminal.

#aph fanfiction #aph nordics

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