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felibrary · 6 months ago

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╭──╯ DOCTOR'S PRESCRIPTION !

PAIRING: jiaoqiu x gn!reader

SYNOPSIS: how does a healer heal himself when he falls ill? the answer is he doesn't, after all, you're here to take care of him!; alternatively your boyfriend's sick, and despite all his refusals you insist on taking care of him.

WORDCOUNT: 1.2k | CONTENT & WARNINGS: did i play the tb mission yet..no, did i still write this? yes cause i just man idek okay, jiaoqiu might be ooc, banter and bickering and just tooth-rotting fluff (and jiaoqiu rots in bed..literally lol)

TAGS: @azullumi (i hate all of your fans for choosing the blind date one. reject them exes and bring back hanahaki diseases and yearning 🔥🔥)

AUTHORS NOTE: the closed eyes remind me of jouno. jiaoqiu pls dont die. also im trying to be more dialogue-centrish here cause im not familiar with his character yet soooo no metaphors for now

“jiaoqiu, would it kill you to stay in bed for at least once?”

the scent of freshly brewed green tea and aromatic congee slowly fills the air and you lean back against the counter, with your hands on the surface of the kitchen island and a deadpan expression you stare right at your boyfriend who has only woken up now.

an expression that brings no good settles onto jiaoqiu’s face. “do you need help?” jiaoqiu smiles mirthfully and without hearing your answer he swiftly brushes past you. in the blink of an eye, jiaoqiu picks up the kitchen knife lying on the cutting board before expertly chopping the spring onions into thin rings to later sprinkle over the congee.

he cannot be serious right now.

you have to prevent yourself from sighing out loud before grabbing him by the shoulders to make him turn around “stop being so stubborn and return to bed,” you’re not sure if the reason you’re heating is up due to the congee whose heat is emitting into the air, the close proximity between you and jiaoqiu that makes your heart skip a beat or two, or the fact that jiaoqiu’s sick and is probably spreading his sickness over to you.

the latter sounds the most reasonable.

as it seems (and as expected) your demand goes in one (or well two) ears and out of the other one(s). “and since when are you the doctor?” his cheeky tone and the smirk he throws you are both infuriating. “but, i guess i’m lucky to have such a smart and not to mention beautiful partner who cares about my well-being,” he remarks lovingly.

“you think you can bribe me with sugar-coated words?” as sweet as he might be, you won’t let him off the hook so easily. after all, he also deserves to rest, especially when sick.

someone who only takes care of others and their well-being but never their own, will meet their demise sooner than those who constantly seek out help, due to never confiding in others when facing hardships.

“i’m simply stating the truth.” he chortles gleefully, tilting his head to the side while doing so.

“what a charmer you are,” you reply dryly before taking a few steps away from him. “anyway, as you’ve already mentioned your oh-so-smart and beautiful partner cares about your well-being, so i ask you to go back to bed, and get your well-deserved rest,” you quickly change the subject.

ironically nothing escapes jiaoqiu’s attentive gaze, so you wouldn’t be surprised if he’d noticed the rosy tint on your ears by now. but even if that were the case he doesn’t seem to pay any mind to it.

“as much as i appreciate your concern, there’s really no need. i’ve experienced much worse and more severe illnesses. a little fever won’t be the death of me.” jiaoqiu shrugs in simplicity, brushing it off as no big deal.

“you’re such a handful to deal with sometimes,” you mumble under your breath before swiftly pressing your hand onto his forehead and withdrawing it as quickly. “jiaoqiu. you’re literally burning up.”

you don’t wait for him to respond — you won’t give him the time to respond before reaching down and searching for his hand. his lithe fingers find yours and you carefully lace them together before guiding (dragging) him back to the bedroom and forcing him to lie back down as you crouch at his side.

the wet towel that sits all scrunched up in the plastic bowl right next to his bed seems all wrung out already catches your attention and you sigh. “sorry, that i didn’t come earlier to refresh the water,” jiaoqiu’s ears perk up at your apologetic tone and he smiles. “don’t worry about it.”

“stay here, i’ll get you a new one. don’t move while i’m gone okay? just try to relax a bit.” the only thing you receive as a form of acknowledgment is a quiet hum before rushing off to the bathroom to fill the bowl with new cold water.

you return just as quickly as you left and begin to wring the piece of cloth and fold it into a rectangle before placing it onto jiaoqiu’s forehead. “is this okay?” you ask, carefully brushing the strands of hair that stick to the damp towel away. again, a mere hum is the only answer you receive from him.

as you’re reminded of the green tea and congee that are still in the kitchen you jump up. “right i almost forgot the food, i’ll go and get it. wait here for me.” you turn around and before you can even fully leave the room, a whine of your name makes you turn around.

“can you turn the pillow for me? this side is too warm.” your boyfriend starts to complain and you can’t help but stare (in surprise or irritation, you don’t know — maybe both.) you help your boyfriend up and make him lean against the headboard as he continuously holds the wet towel against his forehead. “here,” you present him and he smiles in satisfaction.

he settles back into bed you assume he has no more requests thus you decide to leave and reside in the kitchen once more. the aroma of spices fills your nose once more and you can’t help but smile as you take the lid of the pot off before using a ladle to scoop the congee into a bowl.

you reach for a porcelain cup and pour the green tea into it before placing it on a tray with the congee to bring it to jiaoqiu.

as soon as you enter his room, jiaoqiu’s ears perk up. “i’ve missed you,” he expresses wholeheartedly and that makes your heart melt. it’s these moments where you get reminded how lucky to have him. “so now that you’re back can you turn my pillow around again? this side heated up much faster than anticipated.”

okay so maybe you weren’t that grateful to have him.

you sigh and put the tray down on his (unexpectedly but pleasing) tidy desk, normally it would’ve been filled with a bunch of different notes and recipes for both meals and medicines, but it’s exceptionally organized today.

once again you help your boyfriend once again by flipping his pillow before grabbing the bowl of congee and handing it to him. upon him not accepting, let alone acknowledging the food before him, you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

“what? do you want me to feed you next princess?” you scoff and although your remark is sarcastic, jiaoqiu can’t help but smile cheekily. “well if you’re already offeri-” he doesn’t get to finish his sentence before you shove the metal spoon full of congee into his mouth which slightly catches him off guard and makes him open his eyes for a split second.

although you’ve seen his eyes countless times, you can’t help but admire them. his eyes resemble honey, beautiful and golden but also sickeningly sweet and addicting. “you know you’re so much more beautiful when you shut up for once,” you tease.

Jiaoqiu detaches himself from the spoon and scoffs. “should’ve added black pepper instead of white pepper. you know that i favor intense flavors over mild ones.” he complains and you can’t help but crack a smile. ”stop being a picky eater and eat.”

END NOTE: this has been sitting in my drafts since June 21 LMFAO but yeah here it is!! also does this look proofread to yall cause it really isn't its quite literally 3am and school's starting next week. my sleeping schedule's so fucked up I'm crying. but shoutouts to Grammarly for proofreading tho fawk u for saying i need Grammarly pro to see my other 92 mistakes like okay. in this economy??

#—stellaronhvnters.#felis staple of books ⋆·˚ ༘ *#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail fluff #hsr fluff #honkai star rail #hsr x you #honkai star rail x you #hsr x gn reader #honkai star rail x gn reader #jiaoqiu x reader #jiaoqiu fluff #jiaoqiu imagines #jiaoqiu headcanons #jiaoqiu x gn reader

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deanbrainrotwritings · 6 months ago

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— AN INTRODUCTION TO CREATIVE CAPTIVITY

SUMMARY : dean wants to know more about you and takes matters into his own hands when you don’t show up at his bakery. unreasonably, he doesn’t expect you to come back home early, but his mission was mostly successful.

PAIRING : vampire!dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), baker!dean, stalking (it’s only hot if dean does it), angst, unhealthy obsession, yandere!Dean, possessiveness, soft Dean, implied panty kink, creepiness escalates, nerdy reader, reader isn’t perfect, (vague) chronic illness, voyeurism, b&e, stealing, slow chapter, and more to come

WORD COUNT : 6.6k

A/N : this chapter will lead up to the square stockholm syndrome on my @jacklesversebingo card. no baking :’(. heheh, Dean’s a lot softer and way more caring than the typical psycho-yandere type maybe some of yall were thinking of. I did research on yandere types and yandere traits, and found that it’s completely acceptable! in fact, a soft yandere is preferred, LOL. xx

Over the years Dean found that the perks of being undead included not having to sleep. That meant there were no nightmares to haunt him.. and now, that he had all the time in the world to watch you, to research you, first.

You were a fluffy cloud of love that became his companion through the sleepless, endless night. He knew seeing you again would feel like an eternity had passed, so he indulged in thoughts of you to keep him company.

He was home now and he had nothing to do as the moon bled through the windows of the place he “lived” in. He laid in his bed, unable to shut his brain off for the pretence of a peaceful sleep that he enjoyed doing routinely ever since he was a… vampire.

His four hours of nothingness.

He had too much time on his hands.

He’d already read over a thousand books, watched over a thousand films and series, scrolled through the endless stream of videos on social media, and attempted to get good at hundreds of hobbies. What was the point of it anymore, after all?

Now, he thought of you. And that was the only point that made any sense to him. The only thing that mattered in his useless life. The only reason why he even wanted the sun to rise and bring another day.

If it meant that he was able to see you again. To know everything about your existence. Then, it all mattered. The world needed to keep spinning and the world needed to be safe, for you.

He took his phone from the nightstand and appreciated the wallpaper of his beautiful Impala. He was uncomfortably restless. He wanted to keep thinking of you, but he also wanted to shut his brain off. He couldn’t creep you out, it would ruin everything. He stared at the numbers telling the time, 1:24 AM.

You were probably asleep by now.

He wondered about you again. What position did you sleep in? What colour were your sheets? What was the texture of them? Did you use multiple blankets? Were you cold, often? Were your hands and feet always the only thing that was cold? Did you not suffer that way at all? Did you wear socks to sleep? What was the temperature of your home? Did you wear baggy clothes to sleep? Or something sexy? Or something cute? What was the colour of your walls? How did you decorate your home? Was it fun? Minimalistic? Did your house already smell like you again?

He cared so much about every tiny detail of your life and the place you called home. He itched to just get out of bed and find where you lived to see for himself.

But for now, he lifted himself up slightly to rest against the headboard of his bed and unlocked his phone to find you wherever he could. He felt embarrassed to do so, but he searched your name on every app, including the dating ones he never removed despite being… Well, he hadn’t had sex since he became a vampire. He was terrified of anything bad happening to the women he slept with.

The thought made him freeze. Would he lose control with you? Would he ever hurt you? His mind overflowed with images of your blood and him standing above you. He would die before he ever hurt you. He shook the thoughts away, remembering Lenore, and the handful of monsters that coexisted peacefully with humans.

He could be with you. You could be his.

You were all he could think about. It’s a shock that he hadn’t shoved his hands in his pants and pleasured himself just thinking of you. He would have, but he felt it would be disrespectful to you.

He did try to relieve himself with those sexy vampire women in the past, but he just didn’t feel any sort of attraction towards them because so few of them even cared about humans. It was unbecoming. They were arrogant, indifferent, and it wasn’t even sexy. He just couldn’t get it “up” with bloodsuckers. So, what? He was still prejudiced and all that. Whatever, he spent most of his time as a vampire still hunting.

He killed the entire nest and hunted down anyone that managed to slip through his fingers. He tried his hardest to keep being a hunter, with Sam’s brain protected with a wall, he had hope, a reason to keep going. But that was all gone, his family was gone: Sam, Cas.

When word spread that he was a vampire, and it did—like a nuclear bomb—the fallout was massive. Somehow, the fear of the Winchesters was hundred-fold, even though, in all his time as a vampire, Dean hadn’t slipped up even once.

He didn’t know how he did it.

He really just did.

He remembered the devouring thirst of being around humans when he was in the process of turning, while he looked for the leech that bled into his mouth for the cure Samuel and Sam were waiting to have confirmed. He could smell every human’s blood, taste the delicious quench of it in the air, and he somehow walked straight past every one. And when that one vamp opened the fridge to feed him a pick-me-up, the scent of it was overpowering, but never quite enough for his stubborn ass.

He declined and carried on with the mission, but the world had other plans for him. When he found the guy that turned him, of course he knew that Dean hadn’t fully turned; he was the leader of the nest, after all. He was smart and didn’t let Dean make any move unless he drained one of the women he didn’t find useful for the nest.

He refused but the leader of the nest didn’t take no for an answer, and once again, forced Dean to feed on one of the women in the cages. Dean remembered that way it felt, the taste of warm blood soothing the aching dryness in his throat. Dean had planned on biting the poor girl for show and collecting the blood in his mouth to spit it out later, but once it touched his tongue, the bloodlust took over.

He didn’t know what possessed him to stop. Maybe the way the girl whimpered, because she was just a girl. Or the way she pleaded for him to stop with her weak, cracked voice. The way her body slowly sank into him and crumbled limply, but he somehow managed to push her away from him.

She thanked him, even though she was still stuck being a blood bag for the nest. Dean felt guilty, even by just remembering how it all started. His soulless brother, his idiot best friend. How was anyone supposed to know how to handle that situation?

Dean grieved his human life. Having to abandon Lisa and Ben on top of it all. Then, his brother’s life. And finally, his best friend’s life.

Sure, Cas was the one who made the mess to begin with, but what was the point of friendship if you couldn’t forgive them for the worst of the worst? Obviously, there was a line, but with the type of life they lived, what Cas had done didn’t cross the line. After all, Cas tried to make amends, even if it was too late.

Dean could stay mad forever at Cas, but he was going to be ancient some day. What purpose would that hatred serve when everyone was dead? Forgiveness was all he had left to remind him he still had some semblance of humanity.

And right now, he needed to feel human. For you.

He was more relieved than he cared to admit when he didn’t find you on any dating apps. So, he deleted every single one after he got the answers he was hoping to not find there.

He hated that your Facebook was more dead than he was. You didn’t have your relationship status updated or your birthday published. There was nothing, just an old photo of you at some Korean restaurant. And even your family members’ accounts were as dry as his throat felt after going days without feeding. They revealed nothing, but he did find your friends: Bela Levante and Daphne Jordan.

But there was hardly anything to see about you on their profiles. God, woman, why did you have to hide yourself so hard?

He carefully scrolled through Instagram and groaned at another obstacle. Your account was private. He wished to stare at photos of you. The numbers on your profile teased him, he could see the amount of followers you had, the number of people you were following, and fuck… 43 posts he could be gazing at like a celebrity’s fanboy.

He wanted to see everything “private” about your life, your hobbies, flashes, glimpses of your life, pets—if you had any, and everything about your family. All the little things that would have slowly painted you on the empty canvas in his mind.

Dean shut his phone off with a sigh and stared up at the ceiling being illuminated with the moonlight, creating shadows from the tree that creaked outside by the window.

How was he supposed to feel about you? What was he supposed to do to get closer to you? Would you see him again the next morning? Or anytime after that? Would he see you in days? Weeks?

Would you think of him at all? Or would you be too busy with your life to do so? Did you even want to see him again? Did you feel the pull he felt towards you? Was he being delusional to think that there could possibly be something between you and him?

He’d have to take matters into his own hands if you prolonged appearing in his life. If he got dozens of women to like him before, there’s no reason why you wouldn’t want him in the same way. He just needed to play his cards right.

5 Days Later

Coming into your life was more difficult than Dean anticipated.

He went out more than he would have wanted, hoping to find you anywhere in town. So, you weren’t lying when you said you wouldn’t be available for the first couple of days or weeks in town as you tried to settle in. He hoped it was just something you said to avoid Andy.

At least he knew you weren’t lying about that.

He only saw you once three days ago at the grocery store. He watched you as subtly as he could, his eyes focused on your every move, his ears sharpened to your voice, every atom in his body was attuned to you, his nexus.

He wished he was standing there next to you, as your boyfriend, a lover, a partner, whatever. As long as you were only his. So he could watch your cute faces when you touched something that you didn’t like, or be there to laugh with you when you giggled at something you saw, or to be there to remind you of something you forgot and had to pull up the list on your phone. He wanted to know what it was like to have another conversation with you, about anything. Was that asking too much?

He didn’t get everything he’d planned on getting when he got there, but at least he had your plates and the car you drove. He wished he was brave enough to have talked to you, to pretend to bump into you. Although it wouldn’t have been much of an act, he really hadn’t expected to see you there.

But there was something raw and real about watching you while you were alone, and in your head as you walked through the most-likely unfamiliar grocery shop. When was the last time you stepped foot in there? You stared at the signs above each aisle with surprise when you’d walk in and didn’t find what you probably would have years ago.

He made his way to his car and thought of all the ways he could get you to be his. In any way that he could have you. All his ruminations and all his time was devoted to the goal of being with you. So much so that he felt like his entire life was on hold.

He knew it would start up again as soon as you entered his life. However, he hadn’t seen you—well, he hadn’t spoken to you in five days, and he wanted to respect you by letting you have your own space, but it was getting painful for him to be away from you for so long.

He waited to hear the beat of your heart or the sound of your voice being carried through the air and into his bakery, but he was only met with disappointment. Every time the door opened, he wished it was you walking in, he wished it was you smiling and flirting with him like every woman he regularly saw.

But you never showed up.

Did he make you up in his imagination? Was he that desperate to feel something? Were you real and simply uninterested in him? That thought hurt more than it should have. He thought he’d left a good impression on you, and after you left that hundred dollar bill, his mind didn’t allow him to believe you hated him. In fact, it was the only proof that you were real after all.

Why couldn’t you be as infatuated with him as he was with you? Why couldn’t you be as interested in him as the women who carved out time for him in their busy lives?

You were impossible to get close to. His fingertips barely tapped the surface of your life and like a fish, you swam quickly in the opposite direction to evade being captured by him. But didn’t you see you’d be better off with him? Happier? Freer? More loved than you could fathom? More loved than you could ever be with anyone else? More loved than you have ever been loved?

You were on his mind every moment of every day since he met you. Was he nothing to you? How would you feel knowing that everything new he baked was because you had inspired him in his daydreams. He wished he could ask you how it tasted, what you liked, if he should make more of whatever new invention he had created. If he should add it to the menu. He’d make them all again for you to try them and give him these insights and suggestions.

Mostly, he needed to know more about you. He just couldn’t bear the thought of you being a mystery. Or the fact that you’d never let him into your life to know the things that you inhibited within the safety of your home. Would the things in your house reveal your psyche? That’s all he wanted, to worm his way into you by knowing these things about you.

Sure, he could be himself, but he needed an advantage first. He needed time with you where it wasn’t obvious he was imposing himself on your life without reason. Where could he accidentally or coincidentally find himself in order to spend time with you? So that it could all fall together perfectly as he has fantasised every waking moment of his existence since he met you.

He could only acquire that information by infiltrating your home.

Dean didn’t expect this.

It was all he could think when he tracked down your scent to where you lived—and he relaxed when he didn’t find your car parked in the driveway in front of your home.

He blinked.

He was astonished as he gawked at your home. The light of the stunning peach sunset was reflected on the tinted glass that made up the outer walls of your home. Those glass windows, from floor to ceiling, also reflected the breathtaking forest surrounding the area. How convenient that your house was surrounded by thick green trees.

He stepped closer to your home to the surrounding area, the giant space that was entirely yours. There were a few plants, and despite being grateful about the lack of surveillance, he clicked his tongue in disapproval at the lack of it.

You needed to be safe.

He’d have to check out the glass, make sure it was shatter proof and bulletproof—even though there was no reason why your house should be armed against anything like that. He needed to make sure no creeps had made their way to your home, squatters or even people who may be infatuated with you.

You hypocrite, part of his brain accused. But he huffed, pouting and narrowing his eyes straight ahead at the reflection of himself, scolding his brain for trying to compare him to those who were more selfish and probably more dangerous than him. He pushed the small voice that reminded him that there was nothing scarier or more dangerous than a bloodsucker being around a human.

Dean pushed every thought away and had to quickly become familiar with the outside of your home before deciding it was safe to enter, to really get to know you.

Were you going to clean this whole place by yourself? Did you have someone else do it? Did you cook? Or did someone else do that for you, too? He needed to know. How much freedom did he have to be in your home whenever it suited him?

He made his way to the porch and brushed his fingertips against the lock of your door. He may not have had a heart to race at the thought of being where you always were, where you felt safest, but his body still thrummed and tingled with excitement.

Dean searched his jacket for the pick-set he carried in the inner pocket over his chest. He thought about how he hadn’t picked locks in a while. He didn’t have any reasons to, just the occasional need for it if he caught a case nearby. And ever since he became a vampire, he found that it was easier than before, easier to listen for the clicks of each pin falling as he slowly turned and prodded with his tools.

He apologised to you under his breath once the door unlocked.

He shoved the pick-set back into his jacket pocket while standing at the entrance of your home, and deeply inhaled the scent of you rushing outwards to greet him. Yes.

He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, surprised by the emptiness and the smell of newness that mingled with your sweet aroma.

You were still way behind on unpacking.

He found a shoe rack by the entrance and decided to respect your house rules by kicking off his boots and placing them neatly into an empty spot. So, that’s what it would look like if this were his home, too? His shoes, right next to yours. It looked right.

He curled his toes inside his socks, feeling the cool floor against his already cold skin and smiled. He shrugged off his jacket and hung it up at the coat rack, making himself at home. He could pretend for a few hours that this was how it always was.

He stepped deeper into your home, looked around and deflated.

There wasn’t much to explore. Most rooms he walked into were empty, or they had boxes that had yet to be opened by you. Maybe it would scare you if he tried to help by taking everything out, so he left the boxes as you had them.

Why hadn’t you made yourself at home? It’s been days and you haven't really done much. Was this just part of your indifference or was this because of the secret illness you had? Were you that busy with work? You were pretty vague about it when you were talking to Andy.

For now, Dean sighed, he knew nothing.

There was no indication of what was to be your living room. No furniture, no television, no tables. Unless he opened the boxes to peek inside and find out what each room would be, he would have to wait until you got to it yourself.

At least your kitchen was easy to explore. Though most of the cabinets were empty. Only three glasses, four plates, two bowls… God, woman. Should he get you some things? He shook his head and quickly pulled open every door and drawer to peek inside the completely uninteresting contents.

But finally, he got to your pantry. You had lots of snacks. Dean chuckled at the type of organisation that you had put them in. By colour. He smiled and reached out to touch them. He missed being hungry for this type of stuff, not that it stopped him from indulging in it every now and then anyway.

His brain nagged him: Which ones were your favourite? Well, he had to guess that they were all your favourite to some extent. But maybe it was the Rice Krispies, they were nearly all gone. There were some spicy peanuts, too, and some other spicy, but still sweet, Mexican candies he had tried before—some, he hadn’t tried at all.

His mouth would have watered if he were still alive.

He snorted, moved on to read each package and box; he needed to try whatever he hadn’t already tried before, just to see if he could have that in common with you.

He didn't have to, but he wanted to be able to say: I have tried it before. At least. Maybe that would mean something to you, maybe it would matter. On the other hand, he already had a lot in common with you—in terms of preference for snacks. He liked your taste.

He shut the pantry door and opened your fridge.

He pulled out the freezer and lifted a brow at the lack of contents. No frozen, microwaveable food. Just vanilla ice cream, some shrimp, salmon, halibut, and steak. That’s it? He frowned. Did you rarely eat at home or did you already cook whatever else could’ve filled your refrigerator? Maybe he was overthinking it; you looked healthy when he met you and when he saw you at the grocery. But looks could be deceiving—you were sick after all, and he had yet to find out what you had.

Is that why you became a geneticist? Was your disease genetic?

He closed the freezer and opened the horizontal middle door. He found two bottles of mineral water, four bottles of water, and one can of Sprite. Was there any point to the giant refrigerator if you hardly used it? He snickered.

After he finished checking out the kitchen—and after washing a bowl with traces of Greek yoghurt, honey, and oats and the spoon you’d used—he began making his way to the next room, trying to find more information about you.

He made a mental note of the softener and detergent you used for laundry and all the other cleaning materials you kept in the laundry room. He checked out the washing machine and dryer to make sure they worked properly—so you wouldn’t have to struggle.

He frowned the whole time. He wouldn’t be bumping into you at the laundromat, that was slightly disappointing to think about.

He made his way upstairs, giddy to find your bedroom once he got to the top of the stairs. He held his breath in anticipation after opening each door down the long hallway, always to an empty room, but he exhaled when finally found your room.

Your scent embraced him when he opened your bedroom door. Now, he’d definitely find out things about you that were much more interesting. Much more intimate.

He was thorough with his search.

He checked out every item on your shelves and your desk, your figurines and other collectibles. He took a picture of your bookcase to become familiar with your books the next time he visited the library. He opened each drawer and your dresser to review the contents thoroughly, your clothes and keepsakes and trinkets hidden beneath—and stole a pair of your underwear as he bit his lip; he knew it was wrong.

He made sure to steal your pink lace underwear that didn’t match with a bra you owned. He easily discovered which bras weren’t part of a set and memorised your cup size. You chose comfort over sexiness—even the sexy lace you owned looked comfortable. You were so cute.

He turned to your closet and examined every article of clothing—which was organised by colour as well. From sexy to cute dresses, old and new t-shirts, sexy and cute cropped shirts, and so much more he wanted to see you wear for himself. He found a few of your scrubs and imagined the way they’d hug your curves, even if they were hidden below a lab coat. You were so sexy. So fucking hot, he couldn’t believe he was touching the things you’d wear at some point.

He went through your shoes to memorise your foot size, but made a mental note of your favourite type of footwear.

He closed the door and looked over your vanity desk and the limited amount of makeup. Mostly, you had hair products. Gel to enhance the volume, different brushes for different uses, a multi-use hair dryer or something like that, cute hair ties and hair clips and a small bundle of what he’d label as boring; they were just brown, black, and tan hair ties.

He slipped a brown hair tie onto his wrist—one that was loose from usage. He pocketed the mini-lotion bottle that was half-empty—a miniature version of the larger bottle you owned. And after peaking through your extensive jewellery collection, he stole a thin silver necklace with a cute little charm.

He searched your nightstand, glanced at your cute lamp, a small mirror, a water bottle and a pill bottle. At the sight of the orange container containing a month’s worth of medication, he instantly picked it up and snapped a quick picture of the name to do research later. He wanted to look out for you.

He opened your password-locked laptop and the tablet beneath. He wouldn’t be getting into those anytime soon. He had no idea what your password could be or what set of numbers mattered to you. It was frustrating.

He opened the single drawer and pursed his lips—amused. God, you were so naughty. But you did live alone, why would you hide it? It's not like you knew he’d be inspecting every object you owned.

Dean leered at each sex toy with a smirk and imagined—the fact that you probably used them more than once fueled his daydreams—the way you’d pleasure yourself with them. How many times could you come? Which toy was your favourite? Who did you fantasise about when you were in the midst of immense pleasure? He hoped it was someone unattainable or fictional.

His hand twitched at the metal handle he’d pulled to open up the drawer. He was tempted to touch and kiss each toy that had at some point touched the depths and outer skin of your sweet pussy. But he exhaled shakily and closed the weakly concealed Pandora’s Box to move on with his investigation of your life.

He checked the bottom space of your nightstand, open to the world. He found an extensive collection of sticker sheets and sticker books, empty A6 notebooks, one that was full, and another that was halfway worked through. He pulled the two of them out, but turned his attention to your bed.

His mind inquired things he simply couldn’t figure out without you telling him. Did you pleasure yourself here? Do you ever pleasure yourself on the chair of your writing desk? Or the backless seat of your vanity desk? Did you plan on doing it downstairs on a couch you’d set up in the future?

He slid his hand down the soft cotton sheets of your bed and picked up one of your silk pillows, accidentally knocking off a weighted dinosaur and a tiny shark the size of his palm that rested on its back. The other small stuffed animals remained undisturbed as he lifted your pillow to his face and inhaled slowly, deeply the scent of your shampoo, softener, and detergent.

He sighed softly, eyes closed. You smelled so good, he could probably bite you if you let him. He’d never want to purposely hurt you. He just needed to feel you.

He pulled your pillow away from his lips and nose to fix it back in place along with your woolly companions and blindly set down the two books he’d begin reading once he was done with his exploration.

Was this the same bed and the same sheets you’d slept in when you were a teenager? Were you as horny as he was at that age? Did you sleep with anyone at any point in your life—on these very sheets? Were they new? New as in bought here once you moved in? Were these the ones you used when you left home to go to university?

Maybe he shouldn’t be thinking of that.

He stomped away to your bathroom and rifled through over-the-counter medication behind the mirror—allergy pills, Benadryl cream, ibuprofen. He found your pink with green toothbrush, your toothpaste, floss, and mouthwash. He quickly glanced at the shrinking bar of honey-coloured soap by the sink inside a small bowl.

He rubbed his fingers against the beige hand towel and then your olive-coloured towel by the shower door. He inspected the scent and brand of your shampoo, body wash, face washes, and conditioner.

Why was he so drawn to learn all these things about you? He never cared about any of these things before. Sure, to some extent he tried to learn stuff about Cassie and Lisa, but never like this. Why couldn’t he take it slowly? Couldn’t he be normal about you? You were just a woman. Just a woman who made every withering seed suddenly bloom in his desiccated heart and desolate soul. Of course he’d turn to you, like a sunflower turning toward the Sun. It was his destiny, one he wouldn’t dream of fighting.

He returned to your bedroom and slowly plopped down on your bed. He smiled instantly, swallowed by your soft mattress, and laid down on your pillows with your notebooks in his lap. He lifted the one that was full and became wrapped up in the story of your life.

He was only partially disappointed that you’d only begun writing a year before. He only knew about that and still nothing of your past. Only through subtext and vague statements could he decipher events of your past life. And every now and then, something would bring up the past and that’s how he discovered small details about you.

Inside your half-filled journal, he found your work schedule.

“Residency,” he mumbled and glared at the extensive, ridiculous hours listed for you to work. No wonder he hardly ever saw you. No wonder you were so behind on unpacking.

Dean’s ears perked up when he heard rocks and dirt crunching beneath tires. His heart would have stopped if it were beating and his blood would’ve run cold if it still ran through his body. He was instantly at the window of your bedroom watching you drive towards the house.

“Oh, fuck,” Dean muttered, watching as your car pulled up into the driveway. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” He scurried to shove your books back into place before legging it downstairs to retrieve his jacket and shoes and panicked momentarily. He wasn’t ready to leave yet!

Did he touch anything else? Did he move something he wasn’t supposed to? He was so enthralled with his expedition around your home that he’d completely blanked out anything he should’ve been mindful of.

He made his way back upstairs and quickly threw his shoes and jacket into the farthest empty room down the hall. There’s no reason you’d check out every room. Were you paranoid? Wait, he hadn’t accounted for this. Damn it, he was way in over his head.

It was too late. You were already making your way up to your porch. Dean could hear your quiet sigh, the sleepiness of it made him feel warm—at least the illusion of it.

He quickly rid the bed of the form his body had made atop your sheets by pulling carefully at the edges and smoothing his hand over the wrinkles that remained until your bed looked untouched once more.

Dean’s ears perked up at the sound of your car keys and your shoes being kicked off carelessly. Dean was suddenly excited to see what you wore. So, we should hide? his mind questioned. We? Dean scowled and looked around before picking the cliché of all hiding places: the closet.

It felt like an eternity before you began to make your way upstairs.

Much to Dean’s dismay, you’d discarded your lab coat at the coat rack, so he wouldn’t be fulfilling his fantasy tonight. But he could hear the material of your scrubs brush against itself as you shuffled lazily up the stairs and into the hallway leading up to your bedroom.

Your door creaked open, you stretched, and then began to push your pants down your legs. Dean’s eyebrows shot up and he leaned forward to gently prod the closet door open enough to watch your black scrubs get pushed down your bare legs.

You kicked them off along with your socks and left them on the floor to lift your shirt up. Beneath it, you wore a grey thermal shirt. Dean watched, his mouth parched suddenly as your body stretched upwards, just in your violet coloured underwear.

He bit his lip to stop himself from saying something under his breath about how sexy you were. He couldn’t risk you somehow hearing him. But soon, you were completely naked.

Dean peered lewdly at your bare body. The way your hair came loose over your shoulders to brush against your warm skin, the shape of your breasts, the way you shivered and your nipples tightened as you collected your clothes to throw it into the hamper. Your proportions and the entire beauty of you captivated him.

He wanted to fuck you, yes, but he also wanted to know what it felt like to hold the elegant dip of your waist. To know what it felt like for your body to curve up and mould itself into his body when you hugged him. To know how your fingers felt when they were weaved through his, as you had sown yourself into his dead heart to give him the illusion of life, of warmth.

What did it feel like to cup the back of your head when he kissed you? Or to hold your jaw as he tilted your head for the perfect angle to kiss in? What did your fingers feel like when they skimmed over his cold skin and twisted into his hair when you got lost in the kiss?

What did your mouth taste like if his tongue brushed against yours? What did your plush lips feel like against his? Where would your lips trail off to and how would you kiss him?

Dean was dazed at his vivid fantasy and then you disappeared into the bathroom and he finally ripped himself from the perfect twill of his daydream. Disheartened, he leaned into your clothes, sinking deeper into your closet and briefly relaxed as your soft clothes overwhelmed his senses.

Dean considered leaving now that you were home. He sort of got what he wanted, information about you. The rest of your house may have been mostly empty, but your bedroom wasn’t. And your bedroom revealed more about you to him than the rest of your home would have.

Still, maybe you’d get on your laptop and he could discern your password. Yeah, that would definitely be ideal. He could stay in the closet. There was nowhere else he could hide and the bottom of the bed was pretty useless. Besides, there was no reason you’d check in here, none at all.

He waited thirty minutes for you, on his phone looking up what he could about your medication. He learned quickly the side effects, what not to take with your medication, when the best time was to take it. Then moved on to the minuscule list of diseases the medication was used to treat.

He was thrown deep into the research, reminding him of the days when he would have to search things through libraries and files for lore on monsters and to brief himself on the case he’d taken. It wasn’t too different: he wanted to get closer, he wanted to solve you. The only difference was you weren’t dangerous and you were beautiful, and he actually felt motivated to willingly delve further into the rabbit hole that was your life.

The shower turned off and Dean shut off his phone.

It wasn’t long before you walked out of the bathroom and Dean moved closer to the closet door, peeking between the small crack as you walked into your bedroom. You were patting your hair dry with a smaller towel and had your back to him.

You threw the small towel successfully into the hamper and sighed exhaustedly. You were so silent. He wondered if it was only because of the fatigue of your job or if you always wordlessly completed tasks.

He would only know once you completed your residency. Or if he found you on a day where you didn’t have to work. But he didn’t think you’d have the energy to go out, even on a weekend or vacation, after working such laborious hours.

He continued to watch you expectantly as you made your way to your dresser where your underwear was, he watched you sift through the neatly organised garments before you plucked something out and then your towel came undone slightly.

“Stupid fuck,” you muttered angrily and adjusted it. He grinned at your short temperament, but he wished you’d just let it fall completely so he could see you again. You bent over and looked through your sock drawer, picked a comfortable pair and finally pulled the towel from your body and threw it over to the hamper where it only made itself halfway in.

Dean bit his lip at the sight of your ass; he traced the long divot of your spine down your back and the curve of your waist with his gluttonous eyes. He mouthed a ‘wow’ and licked his lips as you slid your underwear carefully up your legs.

You picked out a tank top and matching pants from the middle drawers and made your way to your bed with your socks in hand. So you did sleep with socks on. Ankle socks, fluffy loose ones with pink and white patterns.

You lazily lifted your sheets, your expression more somnolent than he expected. Your feet, covered in clean socks, hid beneath your thick warm sheets. Your whole body was covered and your cheek pressed into the same pillow he’d grabbed.

He waited as your breathing slowed, faster than he expected, you were out. Your mind shut off, tired from long hours of work. He envied you for a moment and then allowed his affection for you to bloom in his chest as he pushed the closet door open and shut behind him.

He made his way to you carefully, and watched your peaceful expression. You lips were parted slightly and your breathing was so low and deep that your heart slowed down serenely.

He considered kissing you as you slept, but he’d rather have your consent when you’re awake some day; that’d really show him that you wanted him.

Instead, he pressed his lips to your jaw, then dragged them hungrily to your quiet, gentle pulse and kissed you there. His lips lingered, promising the blood that would travel to your heart, that one day, it would be all his.

-> life ain't easy when you're a mythical creature

taglist

@rominaszh // @livingdeadmak // @lanassmarty // @murdockscumsock // @zepskies

@candy-coated-misery0731 // @stxrgazer03 // @epsilonsagittarii // @lyarr24 // @spnfamily-j2

@globetrotter28 // @deansbbyx // @lickmybawls // @jackles010378 // @winchstrdean

@deanwinchestersgirl87 // @the-achievementhunter // @deanfreakingwinchester // @k-slla // @madzzz0797

@laylaackles // @fanfic-n-tabulous // @kristophalis // @mrlonelycat // @taylortots-world

@evznackles // @ohnosy // @angelbabyyy99 // @girls-alias // @kezibear

@kaleldobrev // @iwishiwasntreal // @blackcherrywhiskey // @dayhsdreaming @littlemadamred

@xshortputax // @il0vebeingdelulu // @isadumbass // @take-it-on-the-run // @impala1967rollingthroughtown

@pasteldecrack // @imsapphine // @gravesphillip // @illicithallways // @saturnsooya

@vyctorya // @deanwinchesters67impala // @jgdhmeynsgn // @cheyennep3107 // @lovelystoriesaj

@deanbutwithmommyissues // @pieandmonsters // @simpfordeanwinchester03 // @klaus-mikaelsonslut // @daisydark

@hobby27 // @devilslittlehelper // @forever-sleepy00 // @pascalsdarlin

or follow @deanbrainrotlibrary for fic notifications

main masterlist

the pros and cons of breathing masterlist

dean winchester masterlist

do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

#jacklesversebingo23 #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x female!reader #dean x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #dean x you #dean x y/n

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killerlookz · 8 months ago

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another think piece bc this is kind of getting ridiculous now and i feel so bad for the people on here who are constantly losing motivation or outright deleting their hard work bc of some dumbass kids on the internet

im genuinely curious now, bc i still keep seeing people post about their work being posted on joostwt... like it must be on purpose now right? look i can understand being naive and coming onto tumblr for the first time and just looking up a fandom you like and then being surprised when people are little freaks about it ... but i mean at this point you have to KNOW what is on tumblr we've been the talk of joostwt (and tikok honestly) for like over a month now... you're no longer "accidentally" stumbling upon nsfw works you're actively seeking it out. and specifically actively seeking it out to harass and degrade the people who made the work, to what? to prove your own "morality" in this fandom? do you really think joost feels better now that you've put some random person on blast? do you think he's going to get on his knees and thank you for fighting the evil disgusting tumblr fandom... omg get a GRIPPPP!

if the tumblr fandom bothers you so much... stop actively seeking out the tumblr fandom??? like if its so gross and weird to you WHY do you keep coming back. go block some tags, or delete tumblr off your phone and stop trying to live out your repressed high school mean-girl fantasies over the internet and go outside.

like personally i dont really enjoy the joost fandom on tiktok or twitter, so i just simply dont interact with them, that easy. sure if joost content happens to be on my feed ill probably like it, but other than that i dont go out of my way to search the joost tags, or seek out fan accounts, bc just not my vibe- i suggest the rest of you do the same for us on tumblr

and tbh like i probably assure you joost is not surfing the "joost klein x reader" tag on here 😭 he's not going to see this shit as long as YOUUUU stop reposting them other places. anyways if you want to complain about sexualization are you also going to complain about the women he sexualizes in his songs? or what about that short story he wrote where he talks about a woman going down on him in a club bathroom... are you going to complain that he sexualized that woman? or when he talks about how he stole his friend's mom's bra... are you going to whine about how he sexualized her? because that's him sexualizing a real-life person. i mean cmon if sexualizing real people is so bad, lets at least keep our morals consistent.

#whomp whomp hi joostwt since i know you guys like to lurk here #joost klein #joost klein x reader

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thesummerestsolstice · 10 months ago

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Unwritten Fics game

I was tagged by @runawaymun to talk about all my as-of-yet unwritten fic ideas! I have many, many of them. Here are a few. Feel free to send me asks about any of them, or to tell me which ones you'd most like to read in the tags!

Earendil-drinks-the-Silmail-AU: see Tumblr post here. Elwing gives Earendil the Silmaril's light to try and heal him from an illness, and both he (and later E&E) now have the light of the Silmaril within them. This causes problems for the Oath of Feanor. Can't decide whether to make it serious and heartbreaking or extremely silly.

Immortal Elros AU: definitely need to post about this one. In which Elros sees the mortals who will become the people of Numenor, loves them, and decides the best way to help them is to be immortal, to protect their descendants and maintain their legacy long after they're gone. He becomes Numenor's beloved guardian, caring for it's people for centuries. This all goes pretty well until Tar-Mairon shows up on the island.

Faustian Bargain AU: when both Gil-Galad and Celebrimbor are captured during Eregion's fall, Elrond makes a dangerous deal with Sauron to get them back. In exchange for their release, Elrond offers to become Sauron's captive, and to help him in his efforts to reach the Void and free Morgoth. Elrond, of course, has other plans. So do the now-free (and incredibly worried) Gil Galad and Celebrimbor.

Unexpected Problems: see Tumblr posts here and here. All about the issues Elrond runs into in Valinor– from people debating about whether or not he counts as an Ainur to Noldor being scandalized that he only wears a couple pounds of jewelry. Also his repeated attempts to stop Galadriel and Bilbo from completely destroying Valinorian society.

The Love of a Parent: Elrond's parents continue to look out for him, whether from beyond the circles of the world or from the stars above. Probably largely outsider POV. A chance for more eldritchry.

On Estel: In which Earendil goes into the void, searching for Maeglin's lost spirit. Slight AU in the sense that it's very Maeglin sympathetic, and has him having a good familial relationship with Turgon, Idril, and Earendil.

Ten Little Soldier Boys: my take on who Finrod's faithful ten were, why they were so loyal, and the moments they each decided they would give anything to keep Finrod safe. OC heavy but very dear to my heart.

Misfits, Outcasts, and other Characters of Ill-Repute: a series of oneshots about the various people who end up in Rivendell and how they got there. Includes canon characters (Glorfindel, Erestor, Lindir, etc.) and some OCs (including an old Feanorian diehard and one of Thingol's bodyguards, and, of course, Garthaglir the Library Orc)

No pressure, but I'm going to second Runawaymun's tagging of @jaz-the-bard (I don't think they've done the game yet but I might've missed it on their blog)

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alloftheimagines · 2 years ago

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joel miller | the cure

masterlist | taglist | ko-fi

words: 3.5k

warnings: episode nine spoilers, canon level violence, probably incorrect medical stuff, joel murdering a bunch of people but in a sexy way, angst, she/her!reader

prompts: reader swaps places with Ellie (either as the one who’s immune or maybe they both are but Ellie isn’t put in that situation with the hospital), and reader is the one Joel rescues.

I’d love to request 13 and 70 from the prompt list you reblogged, with Joel Miller please! I adore your writing ❤️

“I won’t let anyone hurt you, you’re safe with me.”

“After everything we’ve been through, you still don’t think that I love you?”

tags: @sweetbabygirlsworld @m4tthewmurd0ck @domaniquessidehoe @spideysimpossiblegirl

When Joel wakes in the hospital alone, he knows something is wrong. The last he remembers is you and Ellie at his side as you searched for a way into the hospital, Ellie reading her puns aloud while you rolled your eyes and tried (failed) not to laugh.

He sits up quickly, heart pounding against his rib cage. He feels like sand is falling through his fingers, grain by grain. He’s woken up and lost something again, and this time you aren’t here to tell him it was just a dream. It’s real now, and the harder he clutches, the quicker he loses his grip.

As he stands on wobbly feet, the door creaks open. Ellie appears, and a kernel of relief drops to his stomach. Just one, but it’s enough to ground him for a minute.

And then he sees her red-rimmed eyes and pale face, and the kernel explodes, raining down more panic. You’re not with her. Where are you?

“Ellie?” he whispers, pulling her in by the shoulder and checking her body for any injuries.

Her throat bobs. “They took her. They took her to surgery, Joel, but they wouldn’t take me. I think… I think something is wrong. I think—”

“You’re awake.” Marlene steps through the door with a pleasant smile, and Ellie’s voice fades quickly. “Sorry we had to knock you out. They didn’t know who you were, not until they brought you in.”

“Where is she?” Joel asks, his voice steady and low, like gravel crunching under heavy boots.

Marlene slips her hands into her pockets, and there is something, a quick flash, in her dark eyes that Joel is too worried to miss. She’s good at blinking it away, but it’s too late. He saw.

“She’s already in surgery.” With a sigh, she pulls Joel and Ellie’s belongings from the table and hands them over. “You did a good job getting them here, Joel. So good we decided it wouldn’t be right to operate on Ellie, too. Not until we know for sure their immunity can help with the cure.”

Joel’s eyes narrow, his fingers curling into fists at his side. He grabs the bags roughly, all too aware of the way Ellie is shrinking into his side as though afraid. “So how long will it take? When can I see her?”

Pressing her lips together, Marlene’s wary glance passes between Ellie and Joel. “To test for a cure, we need to take the cordyceps from the host’s body. Do you understand what that means?”

He doesn’t, not at first. Not until he thinks of all the things he’s been told about the illness over the years. The way you spoke about it when you told him you couldn’t get sick and how the Fireflies believed a rare fungal infection you battled as an infant, years before the outbreak, left you immune to cordyceps. Because that infection altered your body’s immune system, and…

And the way fungal infections are recognised by your brain.

“Cordyceps…” He feels dizzy. Sick. “Cordyceps infect the brain. Removing it…”

Removing it would mean removing you.

Killing you.

Marlene nods, sympathy softening her features. Fuck her sympathy, Joel thinks as his blood begins to boil, bones stiffening with that protectiveness he’s always let consume him when it comes to the few people he loves.

He lurches forward on that primal instinct alone, because there is no way in hell he can let you die. “You’ll kill her!”

Guards filter into the room immediately, shoving Joel so the backs of his knees knock against the bed.

Ellie is trembling beside him. “Did you even fucking tell her?” she yells. “Does she know that she’s going to die on that fucking operating table, you piece of shit?”

“I’m sure she’d choose it this way,” Marlene snaps. “You’re the alternative, and we weren’t going to make a fourteen-year-old a martyr. Not if we don’t have to.”

“Martyrs choose to be martyrs!” Joel’s voice bellows like thunder through the room as he struggles against the armed guards. “You had me bring her here to fucking kill her!” The words shatter against the wall like ceramic as he realises the twisted truth of them.

He hauled you and Ellie across the fucking country… for this. To have you laid out like an animal and experimented on. Killed. You’d never shown any hint that you thought this was how it would end. You’d talked about going back to Tommy’s after all this was over, getting a house for all three of you. Your face lit up when you told Ellie she’d have her own room, and you’d glanced at him with both a question and a promise glinting in your eyes because you both knew. There was more to this now than when you’d begun as frosty acquaintances stuck on the same path. You’d gotten close, spent freezing evenings huddled by the fire and drinking whiskey from Joel’s flask. You’d saved his life more times than he could count and vice versa.

He’d torn down his armour for you despite his better judgement, because he couldn’t help but fall for you even if you were too damn young and pretty for him. Even if he was certain he was no good for you.

This morning he’d woken beside you, bathed in your light and warmth, and he’d been certain something had changed. That all the pain he’d experienced in his life finally had a reason and he could let it go, start fresh. Be yours rather than lost and bitter and alone. His cheeks had ached because he’d smiled and smiled and smiled, every time you spoke, every time you looked at him.

They can't just take that away. Not for a cure that might not even come to work. Not for anything. Damn it, he hasn’t come this far to lose you now.

“I’m giving you the option to leave,” Marlene says. “To get out of here and take the kid with you. You get to keep her safe because Y/N took her place. So let it go, Joel. Leave now, calmly, and let us do the rest. We could have a cure in a year’s time, maybe two. Do you understand that? All of this could be over soon.”

He knows better than to believe that after all he’s seen. It was never the infection that was the problem. It was humanity — and the absence of it when civilisation deteriorated. It was the Davids of the worlds, it was Fedra, it was murder and fascism and blood and sacrifice and ruin.

And why the hell should you have to die for a world that never gave you a damn thing? You, who still knows how to love and go gently, protect and fight for what matters? Why should he have to lose the one good thing he's known in this life?

The answer is simple: he shouldn’t. He won’t.

A veil of eerie calm passes over him. He nods, and the guards relax. Ellie is shouting, swearing, thumping him on the chest as he’s escorted out with her in tow. He leaves Marlene behind. Lets her think he's leaving quietly.

And then knocks out the guards and steals their rifles, forced to be part of the world that doesn’t deserve to be saved.

Because there is one thing that does deserve it, still, and he’ll fight like hell to keep it.

***

He moves through the hospital like ripples through a lake, fracturing everything in his wake. He shoots without hearing the gunfire, without feeling his finger on the trigger. He told Ellie to run and hide, but she was too stubborn and too worried about you to agree, so now she follows behind him, squeezing her eyes shut each time a Firefly falls. He doesn’t want her to see this, but there isn’t time to stop it now. He knows she wants you safe as much as he does, and that has to be enough.

It feels like hours before he finds you in the operating room, surrounded by nurses and doctors in blue scrubs. Your eyes are closed, your body still, and for a moment he thinks he’s too late. His knees threaten to give out as he barges in, weapon poised, Ellie close behind. You’re tethered to wires and IVs, but he sees no blood, no evidence that they’d already begun.

“I won’t let you take her!” the doctor says, wielding his scalpel. Joel shoots him, and he crumples to the floor without a whimper, without anything.

The nurses cower. Joel can taste their fear like metal, but he can’t feel it. It seeps into him like a ghost’s touch; unable to scratch his surface, but still able to penetrate. He can’t focus on it. Not when you’re still lying there, looking so small, so unlike you, in a hospital gown.

“Take out the IVs,” he instructs, his voice unwavering as he motions to you.

The nurse shakes her head.

“Now!” he bellows, and she’s smart enough to listen. She pulls the wires from your hand before stumbling back again.

Joel pays them no more heed as he steps towards you, his breath ragged as he smooths the hair from your face. You don’t react, don’t move, but you’re unharmed. Thank god, you’re unharmed.

“I got you, baby,” he whispers, his hands trembling as he slips one beneath your legs and the other around your back, scooping you up. “I’m here. I’m here now.”

You sink into his chest, and he knows that no matter what he’s done, no matter the horrors he’s committed, he made the right choice. Perhaps not for the world, or for the families of the people he’s murdered, but for you, and for Ellie, and for him. For his own little universe, where love has finally blossomed after a twenty-year drought.

That’s enough for him.

***

You wake feeling groggy, the sun dappling your face and a strange hum beneath you. It takes you a moment to realise it’s a car engine, and you frown, sitting up with a start. The back of Joel’s salt-and-pepper head is the first thing you notice, and relief floods you — intensified when you find Ellie in the passenger seat.

“Mornin’, sleeping beauty.” Joel glances at you through the rearview, his cheek pinching with a concerned smile. “How you feeling?”

A million memories try to soak into your mind at once. You remember almost nothing since approaching the hospital with Joel, and your body feels heavy. You look down to find you’re not in your own clothes, but someone else’s.

“What happened?”

Joel’s jaw sets, and a shiver rises inside you, because you know him, and you know that something has gone horribly wrong. His knuckles are white over the steering wheel, and neither he nor Ellie will meet your gaze as he speaks. “We’ll talk about it when we’re off the road.”

“No. Talk about it now,” you demand. More images flood back. You were in a hospital gown, being prepped for surgery. Marlene… Doctors and nurses…

The cure. They decided to use you, not Ellie.

“Did they… did they do it?”

With a sigh, Joel veers off the road, parking up beside a thick, shadowy treeline. The sun is amber in the sky, setting or rising, you don’t know.

The silence blankets you when the engine dulls, and your heart thuds as you try desperately to meet his eye. He keeps looking down and around, anywhere but at you. You try to get Ellie instead, fingers curling into the spongy seats as you lean forward. She only fidgets with her backpack. Her hands tremble.

“Somebody needs to tell me what the fuck is happening!” you snap, because it’s your body, your duty now, and why won’t they look at you? Why won’t they say a word? You went through hell to get to Utah, for Christ’s sake. What was it for if all you get is this confusing, awful silence?

Without a word, Joel opens the car door, instructing Ellie to give you a minute. You follow, your legs no longer feeling like legs and your mind clouded by fog. Both your doors slam shut, and you lean against the car for support as he finally turns to look at you. His expression is unreadable, and that makes you afraid. It reminds you of the day you met him, when he held a gun to you before you could reach for your own. When he was just a stranger who Marlene had sworn could get you to the Fireflies' base.

When he speaks, though, he’s anything but cold. “I couldn’t let them do it,” he whispers, pain straining his voice.

Your face creases in confusion. “What? After everything we risked, everything we went through—”

“It would kill you!” he shouts. And then, lower: “They were going to kill you. Take the cordyceps out of your fucking brain and leave you… gone. Did you know that? Did they tell you?”

You’re speechless, your throat thick with fear, shock, and your stomach churning with nausea. “That’s why they didn’t want Ellie.”

“They figured murdering a fourteen-year-old was a step too far.” Bitterness soaks his words.

You massage your temples as you try to process it, but at the forefront of everything is guilt. You feel sick, shivery, wrong. You’re the world’s only hope… and you haven’t given them what they needed.

And then you think of Marlene, who promised you so much. You were her friend for years. She looked you in the eyes before surgery and told you you were doing the right thing. She sent you to your execution.

The worst part is that if you’d known it would kill you, you probably still would have agreed if it meant fixing what the infection has broken.

You glance at Joel as you understand all the things he’s not saying. “What the fuck did you do, Joel?” you breathe shakily.

His mouth stretches into a thin line of devastation, and he doesn’t have to say it. “I couldn’t let them… I couldn’t. It wasn’t right.”

You doubt whatever went down on Joel’s end was right, either. There’s no way the Fireflies would have let you go without a fight.

Oh, god.

You sink against the car, panic rising in you. When Joel tries to grab your hand, you tear it away, surprising even yourself.

“Hey,” he says, pleading. “Don’t do this. I had to keep you safe. I had to…”

“It wasn’t your choice!”

“It sure as hell wasn’t yours either!” Joel blurted, anger roughening the edges. “They were just gonna take you away, no fuckin’ warning, no askin’, no nothin’! It’s sick!”

“I’m just one person, Joel. They were trying to save the world!”

“You’re the only fuckin’ person who matters! You, and her!” He jabs a finger in Ellie’s direction, mouth curling with something foul. “It ain’t your responsibility to die for this world. They said it might not even work, made it sound like they were just using you as a lab rat. And what would you be saving anyway? You wanna sacrifice yourself for a world where the government scares everybody into submission and rapists and murderers and fuckin’ cannibals run the place? Huh?”

You flinch at the memory of Silver Lake and David, and how it had felt to lose Sam and Henry months before. Joel’s right; it’s hard to want to save the world when the world has done nothing but kick you down, again and again.

But whatever Joel did, whatever pain he’s left with… you don’t want the stains on his soul to be in your name. He deserves better than that.

When you say nothing, Joel softens, running a hand through his bristly beard as his eyes begin to glisten. “When are you going to understand, darlin’...? I’d never let anyone hurt you. Not if I could help it.”

Your chin wobbles with the promise of tears as you look at him properly for the first time. He looks tired, drawn, haunted.

You did that. Or, rather, he did that for you.

“Marlene… where is she?” You’re afraid to ask, but you have to know.

He gulps, bowing his head. “Gone. They’re all gone.”

“Shit.” You hiss the curse as the tears finally fall, rocking against the weight of what you now know to be true.

“She was never going to stop,” he says.

“I was… I was supposed to be the cure, Joel.” The words rattle in your broken chest like a song scratched out on old vinyl.

He shakes his head. “Not like this. Not if it kills you.”

“I can’t…” You want to break, and you look at him and wonder how he’s still standing. What the hell did he do to get you here, get you safe? Slowly, you put your hand on his chest. “God, Joel. What… I can’t be worth all this. I can’t be responsible for all this.”

“You ain’t responsible for anything. I made this decision.” He covers your hand with his own, and you feel his chest thumping. “I did this.”

“That’s what I mean. I don’t want this for you. I don’t…” You stifle a sob. “I was just your fucking cargo. Why would you do all of this? Why would you stop them from finding a cure, stop them from changing the world, for me? You have to live with that. Not me. I know you, Joel, and I know you don’t need another thing weighing on your soul like this. I can’t be the reason you do. I can’t…”

Surprise flickers across his features. “After everything we’ve been through, you still don’t get it, do you?”

You blink, lost, and he squeezes your hand tighter, his forehead close enough to brush yours.

“You still don’t know that I love you.”

Your world stutters to a stop with those words. Of course you’d known there was chemistry burning between you, palpable enough that sometimes you can barely breathe. But you never thought Joel would let himself love.

And yet here he is. Destroying the world to save you and his girl. You’ve seen the way he’s warmed to Ellie. It shouldn’t surprise you that you matter too. But you’d never believe a man like him, a man who breathes grief and hostility and strength, could soften for you.

“I’m not… I’m not proud,” he says. “I know the mark this’ll leave on my soul. But Jesus, darlin’, my soul was already black and damned before you met me. I’m willing to carry it. I’m willing to do whatever it takes if it means you’re still here with me. I don’t know what sort of man that makes me. Not a good one, that’s for sure. But I couldn’t just let them kill you. I couldn’t do that. Not for anything. The cure might save the world, or it might not. But I saved my world in that hospital. I had to. Please understand, baby… I had to.”

A tear rolls down his cheek. You catch it with the pad of your thumb even as your own face remains damp and awestricken. You don’t understand. You’re not sure you ever will. But you love him anyway, because you’ve never known somebody to fight for people the way he does, and he’s a good father, a good brother, even when he isn’t. Even when he’s forced to make bad choices, do bad things. He never pretends to be a hero, never asks for redemption.

But he’s asking you now — begging, even — to understand, because he loves you and because he couldn’t give up on you, and that means something. That means everything.

You press your lips to his, and they’re rough and shaky and new. He pulls you closer, clutching onto your shirt like it’s all he has to hold onto.

You don’t know what it means. You don’t know what happens next, or whether it’s right to go on living when you could be saving the world.

You only know that you’re not ready to die yet, not when there is so much of him left to love, and so much to experience with Ellie. God, you dread to think what she saw in that hospital.

“Is Ellie okay?” you ask tentatively as you pull away.

Joel glances into the car. “She needs you as much as I do.”

And you need them, more than you ever planned for. You lean into Joel’s chest and close your eyes, exhaustion weighing on your bones but fire kindled in your heart.

“C’mon, baby. Let’s go home,” he says into your hair.

The world is still broken, but you get to go home.

That has to be worth something.

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dervampireprince · 2 months ago

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Hii Prince!

I wanted to ask why you started to post asmr roleplay audios, idk if you explained it in old post or on twitch lives, in that case I'm sorry to bother with the same question .

I really appreciate your work and it really helps me throughout hard times (especially this period)so thank you so so so much.

i have been asked this a lot on various places, though the only post about it i can find in my faq tag doesn't go into much detail and is years old so buckle up because this got long and i'm sorry if you wanted a shorter answer. i'm going to actually tag creators that inspired me and i'm sorry if that's annoying to those creators, but i want to be able to shout them out and link them in the hope that you guys go and check out their audios! they're really talented and really deserve the support!

when i was a teen i didn't really have any friends and i was mentally ill and didn't have anyone to turn too. i fixated on fictional characters for comfort, and the main one was loki from marvel. i can't remember how i came across @tomhiddlestonsoundalike but i did and honestly his audios really helped me a lot. not only did a crazy accurate impression of tom hiddleston's loki, but he had comfort audios for crying and panic attacks that i would listen to probably hundreds of times. i didn't know what asmr was and i never went searching to see if anyone did anything similar at that time, but these audios will always mean so much to me and while the creator of that blog went on to make audios on youtube and reddit, he hasn't been active in years on any of his accounts but i will always be so grateful for him providing me with a little light in the darkness.

cut to me being an adult at university and struggling once again with my mental health and sleeping and somehow youtube starts recommending me asmr. i get into sound effect tapping ones at first, and then find roleplays, and then find audio only roleplays of people doing impressions of different characters.

around the same time on tumblr i discovered @kinkradio and really enjoyed his guzma audios, and soon i was listening to every audio he put out regardless of if i was familiar with the fandom. he started voicing more characters that i already liked from marvel and the arcana and i found a new place of comfort, as well as discovering nsfw fandom audios for the first time. i still hadn't figured out i was trans yet, but these were the first audios i felt comfortable listening too and surprise it's because they're gender neutral and all the audios from other creators i'd listened too before were aimed at female listeners. being able to imagine myself as whatever when listening to k's audios was really helpful and comforting as i figured myself out and i still love listening to his audios now (and sidenote it's always a comfort after coming out as trans to find that creators who's work you love are supportive of trans people). k is still making audios and posts here as well as youtube and has a patreon with exclusive audios (as someone who's been a patreon member of his on and off over the years i can say it's well worth supporting, you won't be disappointed by the bonus audios on there) and i'd so recommend his works. honestly he's probably my biggest inspiration in voice acting, both from his acting and accents, and from his care he takes when approaching comfort audios.

another big inspiration of mine that i discovered around this time is @darkandtwistedasmr who unlike everyone else i'd been listening to so far, doesn't focus on voicing fandom characters but his own original characters. i adore so many of them (if i had to pick favourites i really love jaspar (for someone usually uncomfortable with alcohol boy i sure have been relistening to jaspar's audio every night for the last few days again /lh), prim, blue, soleil, the rainbow serpent, alden, seki, the shepard, currently still crying over the fallen angel and merman from this years halloweek... okay so i struggled limiting my favourites to a few and i'm sure i've missed some out). anyway, that's the first time i'd gotten invested in characters through just hearing their voices, and of course the art of all the talented artists, and it really made me realise how asmr and audios can be used to tell stories as much as any other medium. when i'm really struggling to calm down enough to be able to sleep, i often turn to twisted's audios. he's able to make each character distinct and unique, even if he's using the same accent they always sound like separate characters and i'm always so drawn into their stories. and the character designs are always so beautiful and it really inspires me to designs more of my own original characters. again twisted posts here and youtube and also has a patreon with sfw and nsfw audios and again as someone who's been in the patreon it's well worth it.

by this point i'd listened to a few other different voice actors on youtube who primarily made anime character audios and was always a little disappointed as i didn't watch much anime anymore and wanted to see characters from fandoms i enjoyed. i thought hey if others can do it, and i already like writing fanfic... maybe i could write scripts? and try and voice them? i bought my first microphone in 2018 with the intention of recording asmrs, i even wrote scripts for napstblook from undertale, sidon from legend of zelda, rouxls from deltarune and venom from marvel. i even recorded the napstablook one and made a youtube channel to put asmr on... but i never posted it. i was too scared. i hated the sound of my voice and didn't know why (spoilers, it was gender dysphoria). and so i just tucked the idea of doing asmr voice acting away in the back of my mind to maybe try again in the future.

in 2021 i was having to consider what i was doing with my work. i'd graduated with a degree in illustration in 2019 and then lockdown happened and i couldn't get a job. honestly university hadn't prepared or taught me how to get a job in the industry anyway. i still had my etsy shop i'd started in 2017 and kept that going, though could no longer work in person at artist alleys at comic cons due to lockdown and then my local cons never reopening after lockdown. etsy picked up during 2020 but by the end of 2021 it was going down. and i said to myself if i wasn't earning enough from etsy and my art by the end of 2022 i would have to just go out and get any job i could find, regardless of if it was in the art industry.

and then i watched this new show that just came out recently: arcane. i had latched onto viktor so tightly and had against my own will started vocal stimming by just talking in his accent to myself. and then i remembered about trying to make audios and do voice acting. and i thought you know this is really the last chance. if i want to be able to work from home i have to try everything. (at the time i wanted to work from home due to mental illness and how difficult i'd found it trying to work an in-person job in the past, at this point i hadn't developed my chronic hip/leg pain so i'm glad i set my sights on working from home before it became increasingly more difficult to go out to work. clearly i kinned viktor a little too close to the sun /j)

by this point i'd figured out i was a boy and been out as a trans man for years and while i did still have voice dysphoria, i figured i could learn to talk deeper and even edit my voice lower in post if needed (and indeed i did edit my voice deeper in post at first, but i'm proud to say now not all my audios have pitch editing as i've worked really hard on lowering my voice with t and every time someone points out how much deeper my voice sounds in audios now compared to ones from 2-3 years ago it makes me so happy). and i couldn't find anyone making audios for male listeners that were with fandom characters (apart from an occasional from kinkradio), and no fandom character audios for trans men, or trans people in general. i found it really hard to write and work with scripts, i couldn't predict how long it would take me to read one page, and i stumbled over my words too much when reading them. and then i thought hey i daydream all the time, i make up stories in my head all the time, can't i just... do that live and out loud? so i tried improvising and still improvise all of my audios.

i tried to be brave, posted some snippets here on tumblr where i was lucky enough to have already built up some following due to my nsfw writings. people were supportive and i finally started posting videos to that youtube channel i'd made years ago. started with only posting viktor audios and then expanded out into more characters. including getting to introduce you guys to some of my original characters.

what i wanted to achieve with making audios was to voice characters that were more obscure or that no one else had ever voiced just because i wanted to show my love for these characters, and to create an audio space that was a safe space and had audios focused on trans listeners and neurodivergency. as an autistic trans man, i wanted to be able to make the kind of audios i wished i could hear, and just hoped there were other people out there like me.

december 28th this year will mark 3 years since i posted that first arcane viktor asmr video on youtube. and i've gone from worrying about trying to find a job to this being my fulltime job. i still run my etsy shop, but the majority of my income is from my patreon where i post exclusive nsfw audios, and where my discord is that has gone from 5 to 200+ members and we chat and have watch parties and i love being in there. and i am so grateful to you guys, whether you are a patreon member or just watch my audios on youtube, however you show support means the world.

i couldn't have dreamed of this. i never planned on being a voice actor. but i did always dream of others caring about my original characters. and through starting out voicing fandom characters that people already knew, i was able to make original character audios and have people get to know my characters and sell merch?? of my ocs?? that people wanted to buy?? and did?? and people send me fanart they draw of them?? i have over 500 pieces of fanart that people have sent me?? (yes i save and treasure all of them, i have a fanart showcase slideshow that plays on my twitch starting soon, brb, and thanks for watching screens on stream). it's a dream come true and i honestly can't put into words how grateful i am.

i have some bigger plans a-brewing i hope you guys will enjoy. i really want to try and make more artwork of my original characters for my audios, and perhaps... try and make some more series of audios that have storylines, and maybe at least one of those won't have a listener character which i hope won't be off putting, it's more you're listening to a story happening between two characters that are voiced. i want to focus on working out backstories for characters, and finally giving you guys the long awaited names and designs for the villain and visiting king. and i'd love to make more new ocs more frequently, have more non-human looking ocs, and have more fun and detailed designs for my ocs.

that got long, i did warn you it would. but now the answer is actually written out for anyone curious. i hope again i haven't bothered any creators by tagging them, i just wanted to tag them so you guys can easily click on their names and see what wonderful things they create and voice! thank you so much anon for the kind words, i hope this all answered your question. /gen

#the vampire answers #faq

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rulerzreachf4n7 · 6 months ago

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I'm sorry but I fucking hate proshippers so much so here's a whole post dedicated to shitting on them

also disclaimer YES I will be tagging the proship and anti proship tags so I can piss off the chronically online basement dwelling idiots :) and idgaf if proshippers have trauma cause it's not an excuse for their shitty and problematic actions!!!! Sincerely if you are a proshipper please consider jumping off a bridge!! Or at the bare minimum take a shower cause ew

And this whole post is literally just bullying the FUCK outta them so idk stanky people come at your own risk lol

AND AGAIN to clear up this isn't like rage bait or smth cause I fell like some people will accuse me this is all my genuine hate into a long ass post so yeah

Okay...LETS GET INTO THE FUCKING RANT NOW HEHEHE HEHE HEHEHE!!!!

I FUCKING HATE PROSHIPPERS!!!! I HOPE ALL OF YOU STANKY ASS BITCHESS GET THROWN OFF A FUCKING CLIFF AND GET A SAW STYLE EXECUTION CAUSE Y'ALL ARE FUCKING DISGUSTING I HATE YOU ALL

YOU ARE MENTALLY ILL IF YOU ARE A PROSHIPPER, END OF CONVERSATION

I COULDN'T GIVE A SHIT IF YOU HIT ME THE "B-But I have trauma 🥺🥺🥺" TOO BAD THAT'S NOT A FUCKING EXCUSE FOR UR SHITTY ONLINE ACTIONS

IMAGINE YOU PULL UP TO A FUCKING INTERVIEW AND THEY SHOW YOUR PATHETIC ACCOUNTS SAYING TO NORMALIZE A 30 YEAR OLD DATING A 13 YEAR OLD, THAT SHIT IS GENUINELY PATHETIC

I KNOW IT'S CRINGEY BUT WOMP WOMP IF UR A PROSHIPPER Y'ALL ARE UGLY AND STINKY

But now on a serious not hehe, the reason I'm making this isn't JUST soley to yknow shit on people who are mentally ill like people who think a MINOR and a LEGAL ADULT are allowed to date, which comes into another thing before I get genuine so bare with me lol

I DONT GIVE A FLYING FUCK IF IT'S FICTIONAL, FOR THE LOVE GOD PLEASE SEARCH UP THE SLENDERMAN CASE WHERE THESE TWO GIRLS KILLED THEIR FRIEND CAUSE THEY THOUGHT SLENDERMAN WAS REAL AND THOUGHT THEY WOULD ENTER HIS KINGDOM AND BE WITH HIM, AND HE'S FICTIONAL, THAT CASE IS ALL Y'ALL NEED TO REALIZE FICTION CAN AFFECT REALITY AND I HAVE SM MORE REASON TO BACK THIS UP BUT I'M TOO LAZY TO TYPE IT OUT 😭

Okay! Back to seriousness I just thought I'd add that in as a little addition hehe >_<

So, like I said before, I lowkey just added this as an extra part cause I couldn't shit on proshippers FOREVER (lowkey bcuz I was running out of insults n threats lol)

Nonetheless I have a reason for shitting on them, although not being a proshipper EXACTLY I have been through I guess, similar paths as they have? Best way I could describe it ig, ofc not sharing what I mean since it's private but let's just say I was an unfortunate child looking at inappropriate comics 🙁

The reason for this part of the post...ITS NOT THAT FUCKING HARD TO STOP WHAT YOUR DOING

Like I said, I was never a proshipper, but I have been in similar situations as they have been, although I've never made an account glorifying rape, SA, grooming, pedophilia, I can just assume what I would do in their places

Dear proshippers,

Your probably complaining and not knowing why your getting so much death threats and harassment along with a side of hate (rightfully so you deserve them) and your mental health might be low

Please know it is your fault for making your accounts in the first place, you are a terrible person for saying all of these things such as rape, sexual assault, grooming, and incest are okay and you are not mentally well

And your probably wondering,

"How do I stop the hate, harassment, and probably death threats with even getting your address leaked?"

It's simple, DELETE YOUR FUCKING ACCOUNT, or even worse just turn off ur comments but that won't help with people slipping in a few people wishing death up in you through DMS

IT IS GENUINELY NOT THAT FUCKING HARD

I don't know what trauma you have but it shouldn't (and never in the first place) be SO BAD to the point where you physically CANNOT deactivate your account, IT IS SO FUCKING EASY AND YOU'LL SAVE YOURSELF A FEW SUICIDAL THOUGHTS

I know everyone one is different, but if you are a proshipper that has trauma, you shouldn't have a fucking account to begin with, and you ARE THE PROBLEM if you acknowledge the trauma, noticing you keep supporting and glorifying problematic actions, complain that you keep getting harassed and wonder why, and you just don't give a shit, not like in a "oh I don't know what to do anymore!!! 🥺🥺🥺" way, in a "oh, I don't give a shit I live for incest and adults grooming children!!!" Way, and ur also probably a pedo if ur an adult proshipper too

So, what else? Yeah, there's a shit more, but onto a better side, ones with actually good coping mechanisms!!

And a bit of a disclaimer, if your rage bait is proshipping, genuinely fuck you, and if ur a proshipper who acknowledges everything bad about it and just doesn't give a fuck, fuck you too and seek a rope to hang around your neck you fucking pedophile

Okay, coping mechanisms! I know this is probably not the best option due to most trauma which I'm guessing is probably from a family member, if it's not a good way to cope is some clean to your family, ofc under some circumstances it's NOT the best option, but if you can you definitely should try!

Also google is free yk...literally search up healthy coping mechanisms and it'll give you a huge ass list, and yet YOU STILL chose to ship a minor and adult together...how unfortunate...

Another way to cope is, and genuinely sounds pathetic as hell but bare with me...CHARACTER FUCKING AI, I mean, there are therapist bots so maybe they can help you??? And in all honesty they're really good at comforting and giving advice despite being ai, and I've tried it before...yeah embarrassed to say I've shed a tear every once in a while

And the last one IF you have the money, time, and generally the courage, book a threapy session, I cannot stress it enough, but I won't be surprised cause every proshipper is probably under the age of 16 years old

Yuhhh anyways that's all I gotta say, I know it's cringey asf but womp womp to proshippers I hate y'all despite giving some coping mechanisms and ACTUAL ways to like, stop the rightful hate you deserve lol

#my posts:3 #anti proshipper #proship #proshipper safe #proshippers please interact #proshippers are valid #proshippers are welcome

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hiemaldesirae · 10 months ago

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i have less than 24 hours left before i have to go through one of the most stressful days of my life so. heres a list of my fav radiostatic fic recs in no particular order

clarification: by radiostatic i mean fics where vox is 100% not the dom in the relationship. most of these dont contain explicit sex though, and im not recommending any straight porn fics here because you can easily find those with a click and search through the bottom vox tag lmao

most of these fics are unfinished, so be warned that i will not take accountability if you get attached to these without them being finished properly. in fact ill just laugh at you because then we'll be suffering together

now, that aside- starting off strong with some of the more popular fics:

RHTVS / Radio Healed the Video Star by Aspiring_Forest_Witch

notes: LONG fucking fic. like this guys almost 700k words long fic. one of the best things ive ever read in my life though and it has a plotline thats frankly more engaging than the actual showing of hazbin on amazon. so. you know. if you have the time to read it Please do you wont regret it

Unraveling Emotions by Xaelei

notes: one of my favourite fics ever on god. started my brainrot for dad!husk, portrays one of the most scrumptious radiostatic dynamics and is generally so very well written that i might end up trying to recreate one of the scenes in comic form. genuinely in love with this fic and im so glad i can say i was the first comment on this fic because my God its such a treat to see new chapters drop for this. unfortunately i havent had the time to write out a detailed comment as of now but if someone wants to let the author know that im still in love with their fic and will continue supporting it until i drop dead go ahead for me

Safe with Me by rillyrillo

notes: the prequel and main fic of this series is human radiostatic, though the sequel is set in hell. it comes with gorgeous gorgeous art and frankly one of the most exhilirating endings ive ever had the pleasure of witnessing play out. i recommend you guys check out their other fics too, the art continues in them + their radiostatic is written wonderfully across all universes!

A Month of Rut by Vylad

notes: this fic is very self indulgent to me. i love the way radiostatic is written in this one because theyre very soft and sweet, but others may not prefer it if theyre looking for freak4freak radiostatic. if you just want something to indulge in and relax with at the end of a heavy day though this is my #1 rec. i read this sometimes when i find myself crying at night lmao

Down, Up, and Back Down by CowboyEnthusiast

notes: made me sob like a baby. 10/10 no notes whatsoever read it for yourself because you WILL not regret it. i genuinely am always at a loss for words whenever i reread this because it is among the most gutwrenching but beautiful and poetic works that ive ever read and i think it deserves some recognition

Mind the Gap by ZLynn

notes: again, to reiterate, i do very much dislike the abusive!staticmoth portrayal i see in a lot of fics. but in this one... it's written so perfectly, i can definitely see it actually happening. i enjoy the way that val does still seem to care about vox, albeit in his own twisted way that eventually breaks and fractures their love and trust, and its just. Ugh. So fucking good

+ with the less popular but still wonderful depictions of radiostatic that i love to indulge in:

i'll give you a show (cause it helps fill the seats) by dead_and_dreaming

notes: absolutely shameless plug from me for my dear mk's work because i cant stop thinking about the way that she's portrayed al here. its actually insane how fucked up that stupid little deer is and i just. i really fucking love the way that their alastor is written, it's genuinely probably my Number One depiction of alastor ever. i demand more of this stupid little freak RIGHT NOW!!!!

Any of the fics by Rachello344 in the Hazbin Hotel Fandom Tag on their profile

notes: so remember when i told you guys i wouldnt be linking straight porn. looks away... okay in my defense though i read the smut for the characterization and their unique dynamics. its sooo interesting to see how their radiostatic is explored here and im honestly refreshed by the depiction of their relationship. im here for it !!!

The Read 'Em and Weep Series by TooManyPseudonyms

notes: so from what i was able to piece together (everything flies over my head when im reading, forgive me for my low media literacy) this is an au set before the hotel where (in the first work) al and vox are in a qpr relationship. in the second work this evolves into a romantic relationship, and the exploration of their dynamic through this is just... Yeah. please read it its 100% worth your time and so underrated it hurts my heart

Uneasy by Saezs

notes: this fic is one of the first radiostatic fics i read (the others being RHTVS and... i think i tried the 666 series, but it didnt appeal to me lol) and its actually just wonderful. i really love saezs's genderfluid vox and how supportive the other vees are of them <3 their portrayl of the characters puts a smile on my face whenever i reread their work

Heat Waves by HappyPRAWN

notes: i'll be fr dsmptsd hit me like a truck when i read the title but it is such an interesting debut! only at one chapter as of me making this post but the way the author wrote this is so engaging and it really makes me wonder what they have next in store for the fic

Do I have your attention now? by Chi_Chi25

notes: wow no way we have the same name... anyway ahem. ill be completely honest this ones a bit of a guilty pleasure for me. this fic is a bit fragmented and short, so for people who click off fics when they see imperfect grammar this one may not be for you. however if you can look past that, it has an engaging storyline and quite the juicy concept :)

Killer Ex by FanGirl48

notes: gorgeous, gorgeous little human! radiostatic oneshot. i love the relationship that vox and al have here... the reasons why they both stayed away from each other even though theyre still so very clearly down bad for each other... anyway. i think about this one a lot and i still go back to reread it sometimes lol

Negotiations by FanGirl48

notes: i didnt realize until i started making this list that this fic was also written by fangirl48.... go off queen keep feeding us (me). this one was a fic recommended to me initially by link nonny, and i can 100% vouch for how good it is. its got appletv interactions, radiostatic plus lucifer trying to navigate heaven, angels... basically everything needed for a very varied and well packed with flavour story

The diary of a Serial Killer by ShippersCave

notes: okay im running out of brain juice at this point but. yeah this fic is soooo self indulgent to me. this ones another human au, with al as a serial killer and vox as the journalist trying to conduct interviews with him. its got SUCH a good dynamic between al and vox, i encourage you guys to check it out and give it a chance even if youre not really into human aus.

My heart's been pierced by Cupid by ShippersCave

notes: pirate/siren au !!!!!!!!! RAAHH !!!!! i dont have to say anything else for this if thats not enough to get you to click then i dont know what is

System Shutdown by Swoolie

notes: i cant believe i nearly forgot about this one LMAO... vox goes onto a temporary hiatus and everyone goes crazy about it. im not really sure if this counts as radiostatic frankly because of the way its tagged but its so good i think you should give it a read anyway

Together in Radio Static by Anonymous

notes: QPR media husbands radiostatic au !!!! i love this one especially because it opens off with vox slapping alastor across the face for leaving him LMAOO (deserved)

What Has Been by Tianren

notes: another human au (YEAH YEAH I KNOW. JUST HEAR ME OUT OKAY i swear im cooking) look, as someone with religious trauma deeper than i can properly express and the worlds fifteenth worst parental issues, the depiction of vox in this fic just really hits home. i really adore the exploration of voxs past and how the themes of religious guilt and cults are woven in so far- and it blends very seamlessly with their human au, despite the characters eccentricities

you're too sweet for me by awestruck_atrophy and moonbeanies

notes: basically, vox and al make a deal where vox tries to help him out of the shackles or whatever that are bound to him because of his stupid dumbass lusting for power. its very intriguing so far and i love the setup and worldbuilding the authors have done, so you should check it out if you want a unique perspective on radiostatics relationship

candlelight by curtailed

notes: the best way i can think of to describe this one is like... fake marriage but instead of fake marriage its. fake roommates??? the author probably puts it better than me tbh. its super interesting so far, i cant wait to see where this one is headed especially with how unique its premise is!

Zero Day by Anonymous

notes: this one is like those time regression manhwas. you know, the ones where the protag goes back in time and proceeds to try and avoid everyone who made their life miserable- only to fail because for some reason now they're paying attention to them more than they would have had they stayed the same person. its certainly very promising, though! i do love indulging in time regression stories, especially when the mc is someone i love like vox. i really cant wait to see which direction this one is headed in :)

Never as Good as the First Time by IComeForFanficsNowin403

notes: okay. so, uh. um. so- this one is in spanish. HOWEVER its premise (serial killer alastor meets television star (?? i think. its not quite clear) at a party hosted by rosie, moves into his neighborhood to keep an eye on the pretty prey) is just so unique i honestly think its worth the experience to pull out google translate and try living the machine translated life. really. give it a chance. also its got beautiful art to go along with, so.. you know. thats just a bonus!

+ honorary staticmoth and one-sided/past radiostatic fic rec:

Freak-A-Zoid by Femalefonzie

notes: this fic deserves every single piece of praise its ever gotten because good lord. its SO good. i was not seeing the radiostatic twist come in, but it *is* mostly staticmoth. and also a/b/o but i mean. who *hasnt* indulged in a little bit of a/b/o before honestly

there are other fics that i personally like to indulge in, but i frankly wouldnt recommend to anyone else because they're either the kinds of fics that i myself can only bring myself to read after ive spent 8 hours at work crying into my pillow and need to look at something entertaining, or when im starved of content and cant be bothered to cook myself so i pull out the translator and start going at it. (technically i should know how to read french by now but. urgh. anywway..)

#ran rambles #radiostatic fic #radiostatic #fic rec #fanfic recommendation #hazbin hotel #honestly ive probably forgotten a few bangers but my brain is melted by now #if anyone wants to add their own recs feel free. these are just my personal likes #ive read stuff by arctic and addicted ofc but those ones are basically known by everyone afaik lmao. swm is known everywhere too #but thats a bit diff because it is part of an expanding series. so #anyway i didnt like some of the more popular fics like 666 or addicted but i know many people like those #and for good reason too because theyre wonderful! just not to my personal tastes and thats fine

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