#I don’t even care I’ll die on this hill

[norman-fucking-reedus]

Daryl Dixon is a follower and he always has been (I’ll fucking die right ontop of this hill)

I think a lot about how he talks about how it used to just be him and Merle, how he always just went where his brother went

Obviously growing up he didn’t get the guidance and life lessons that he needed in order to be his own person detached from his brother, so it makes sense that he wouldn’t know what else to do besides look up to his older brother (who wasnt even a role model 90% of the time)

I know that Daryl is a quiet loner, but at the same time I don’t think he likes to be completely alone, and after Merle died there was definitely a void in Daryl’s heart that left him ultimately confused and lost. It was like everything he had ever known was just suddenly ripped straight out his hands.

Daryl is just a lost boy at heart, and all he really knows is how to follow authority. After Rick took it upon himself to step up as leader, Daryl saw and respected that, not ever trying to go against him or challenge him. He was always ready to work or do whatever task it was that he needed to do, and that’s definitely something Rick noticed

Rick plays a major, major part in the man that Daryl is to this day even though they didn’t like each other when they first met. I know that Rick knows better than anyone that Daryl really did care for Merle, which is why I think Rick knows how important it was for Daryl to hear that he considers him to like a brother, like his very own family.

[my-hyperfixations]

Me after seeing Dazai and Chuuya find Fyodor’s dummy:

[xbomboi]

yapping about Briar. fellow Briar enjoyers assemble.

okay okay i don’t make it too obvious (or maybe i do, i wouldn’t know) but briar is my personal favorite character. i think about where the stories of all the characters would go and what their arcs would be a lot, but hers in particular is really important to me.

so i wanna talk about it.

first of all, she’s narcoleptic coded, right. we all know that. but her mom on the other hand reads to me, like, an alcoholic mother? and her dad is just willfully ignorant. either way, there’s a huge sense of neglect going on in that family. i mean go figure why briar would be the one doing most of the work raising her brothers. and of course she’s a party girl, because who’s gonna stop her? her parents? see yeah exactly.

so i don’t think it’s unreasonable to say she doesn’t have very strong parental figures in her life, at least not at home. but, and now you have to really hear me out about this one, i think baba yaga could take up a parental role in her life.

i know it isn’t much, but the seeds for her having at least a hint of a connection with baba yaga are there.

in the webisode “Stark Raven Mad”, baba yaga scolds briar for rambling about her party, and then as the commotion picks up she’s still exercising authority over briar in particular.

then there’s thronecoming, wherein, when briar is sulking at the dance, upon noticing the picture on the projector, she asks baba yaga for answers, who provides them.

and then skipping all the way to epic winter, after the girls become a little creeped out by her mannerisms and book it, briar is the one who makes sure to peak back in and give a parting remark.

so i think there’s potential there to be explored. her feeling neglected at home and then finding solace in another adult at school would be neat.

but the fact that it’s baba yaga is important, so just put a pin in that and we’ll circle back to it.

now, i think out of the core four, she was (at least at first) the hardest to actually pin-point what the future of her story could look like. with raven, i think it’s pretty clear her journey is just continuing to combat the prejudices of the world as she fights for change, apple is now pretty much on a path to figuring out her own future as ruler of a kingdom and what that’s going to entail, and maddie is the goofball that’s there to have fun and be supportive along the way.

then there’s briar. and, let me be clear, no, in my mind that girl is not sleeping for 100 years with where things are heading; in the main universe of the story, briar will be free of the sleeping beauty destiny.

but it’s like, if she’s not gonna sleep, what more is there to actually do with her? what direction COULD her life go in? because if she’s no longer fated to sleep 100 years of her life away, then she can’t just party like there’s no tomorrow anymore. she’d need to decide what she actually wants to do with her life.

and i think i have an idea.

i mentioned her narcoleptic coding at the start with intent to bring it up again. see, you might notice that a lot of the fairytale aspects of ever after high can be read as allegories for real-world problems. for example, hunter and ashlynn’s relationship is treated in their world the same way society may look at queer couples or biracial couples. or how raven’s mom being trapped in a mirror is their world equivalent to not paying child support.

with that kind of correlation in mind, i think treating briar’s curse as a condition could open up an interesting opportunity. i think, in their world, curses as a whole could be viewed as a separate branch of medical specialization, with briar spearheading this notion of thought.

we know briar is well-versed in chemythstry already. in the webisode “Briar’s Study Party” she makes note of the fact that she’s been studying forever-after, and she demonstrates enough knowledge in the subject to enthusiastically teach it to her friends, who all end up acing their tests on it as a result.

i think this is something she could potentially make a career out of. i think she could come to the conclusion that she wants to be able to help break curses for people everywhere, and could pursue learning to develop potions and elixirs to do so.

which could happen under baba yaga’s tutelage.

picture this: briar declares her newfound goal, to which baba yaga offers to teach briar all she knows in order to achieve what she’s set her sights on. briar—with an ounce of hesitance—accepts, and baba yaga officially takes her under her wing with the intent of mastering sorcery.

obviously, she wouldn’t lose who she is in this. she’s still gonna be an impulsive, adrenaline junkie who desperately needs a screentime limit on her mirrorphone. but in this process, she’d be rounded out by baba yaga and would in turn mature a bit from the experience. she’d get serious about life, but she wouldn’t let go of who she is at heart.

this could lead to her becoming the resourceful one in the main group. like on adventures, she’d be able to pull out a potion or whip something up (because i’m not going to let raven’s magic make her too o.p. she’s gotta have limitations) as a solution to problems. she could really have a role that proves useful and important to the story.

that’s my ideal pitch for where to take briar’s character.

[ozziyo]

Trying and often failing to draw David Tennant is just making me want to watch doctor who again but that’s a real struggle when you generally dislike Rose and ADORE Martha

[thewitchqueenofharrenhal]

Someone on TikTok said they’re not hearing Daemyra shippers out at all because - Daemon left Rhaenyra with her bare ass checks out in a brothel and again when a riot broke out at her wedding feast and I screamed

[moonstruckme]

Hi omg could I request Remus comforting insecure reader who makes jokes about her looks all the time and stuff and kind of tries to avoid talking deeply about it because it actually really hurts deep down but Remus wants to address it and when he talks to her she’s like “you wouldn’t get what it’s like to be ugly you (as in Remus) have always been beautiful” ? I hope that makes sense 😭Totally understand if you don’t want to write this!

Of course you can lovely! Thank you :)

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 884 words

Remus’ self control starts to fray when you discard your third outfit. 

It’s not that he’s impatient to get to the restaurant—you’ve both got plenty of time, and watching you try on clothes for him is a far from unappealing way to pass it. The issue is that you don’t seem to get how fucking phenomenal you look in all of them. 

“Oh my god,” you laugh, making a face at yourself in the mirror before lifting the top over your head. It’s tossed onto the bed, where Remus picks it up to put it back on its hanger. “That color makes me look sickly.” 

“Dove,” he reprimands. “It does not.” 

“Rem,” you mimic his tone teasingly. The late afternoon light filters through the window, and he honestly isn’t sure if the glow he’s seeing is from that or from the smile you give him. “I already look like this, I don’t need to accentuate it.” 

You do that. Self-deprecate. Like it’s anticipatory, like you’re in on a joke that hasn’t been told yet. It makes Remus’ skin prickle. 

“Anyway, I’ll be with you, handsome.” You set one hand on the bed and lean over to peck him on the lips. You take the top with you as you go, hanging it back up in the closet with a nod of thanks to your boyfriend. “I’m not aiming for mind-blowingly gorgeous, but I’d like to look at least remotely in your league, if I can.” 

“You always look mind-blowingly gorgeous,” Remus says softly. His chest aches with earnestness. 

You select a different top, tossing a coy grin over your shoulder. “Thanks, honey.” 

“No, really.” He feels suddenly hot with desperation. Remus doesn’t usually get in your way like this. You make your jokes, he disagrees politely, and he lets you move on. But the need to make you hear him, to talk until you finally get it, see how obsessed he is with you, has been building. If there’s one hill he’s going to die on, he wants this to be it. “You looked lovely in that top, and in everything. You’re exquisite, dove. Do you get that?” 

Your smile falters, and you turn away. You speak into the closet, over the schwick of hangers sliding. “Exquisite.” Humor bends the syllables of the word. “You’re too sweet. Careful, or you’ll give me an ego to eclipse the sun.” 

Remus wishes, but he seriously doubts there’s any danger of that. Your perusal of the closet picks up its pace, criticism a shadowy gray cloud above your head. He stands from the bed and steps forward to wrap his arms around your waist. You still, relaxing into him automatically. 

“I don’t understand why you have to deflect like that,” he says, doing his best to sound kind even as a protective ire burns fiercely in his chest. “You’re always making these cruel jokes about yourself, and you won’t listen when I tell you how wrong you are. Why?” 

“Remus.” It’s hardly a murmur, and yet the plea is clear. “Can we drop this, please?” 

Just like that, the fire in his chest is smothered. A dull ache takes its place. “Not if you’re going to keep doing it,” he says, kissing the nape of your neck. “Just tell me why, please.” 

You clasp your hands over his, seeking comfort even as you stiffen in his arms. “You wouldn't get it.” There’s no venom in your tone, but Remus hears the slight edge. “You don’t know what it’s like to be ugly, Rem. You’ve always been beautiful.” 

A laugh barks out of him, sharper than he means it to be. “I wouldn’t get it?” 

You’re quiet. He takes you by the shoulders, turning you to face him. Your eyes drop to his chin. 

“Do you really think I wouldn’t know how it feels to be insecure?” he asks. “Dove, I grew up with giant tears and scars on my face. People stare at me.” Your eyes flit up to his, shame and apology clear within them. When they go back down, Remus follows, ducking so you can’t hide from his gaze. “I understand that when you feel like something about you is ugly, no one can convince you it’s not. You have to do that on your own, pretty girl.” A flicker of emotion—discomfort, aversion, something else—passes over your face at the endearment. Remus has to swallow against the upset that clogs his throat. “But do you think you could try talking about yourself more kindly? For me, if not for you. It hurts to hear you being so cruel to someone I care about,” he says softly. 

Every line of your face is tense with discomfort at the topic, but you finally meet his eyes. Remus’ smile is reflexive. He’s not sure how you can find things not to love in this face so full of sweetness. 

“Sorry,” you say, sheepish. 

“Don’t be sorry.” He rubs your upper arms affectionately. “I know you don’t do it to spite me, darling.”

You bring your hands up around his neck, hugging him loosely. “You really are beautiful,” you murmur into his sweater. “With the scars, too. I’m not just saying that.” 

“So are you.” Remus kisses the top of your head. Someday, he’ll get you to believe it.

[loaksky]

— 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴

the lowdown — the one where neteyam is shackled by appearances, but you couldn’t care less. 

the who — neteyam x fem omatikaya!reader

the word count — 2.2k

the tags & warnings — language ,, misunderstandings (i love this trope and this is a hill i’ll die on i’m SORRY) ,, neteyam’s friends can be shitty, but mean well ,, reader just wants to love up on her boy :(

the notes — based off of this request! this is another addition to my neteyam content, but ik some of you guys are itching for some other characters, so i'm probably gonna steer in another direction & write for kiri & tsireya so if that interests you, stay tuned! <3

(not proofread well lmao)

masterlist

Neteyam is many things; a kind spirit, a fierce warrior, a loving brother, a diligent son. But Neteyam is also new to love. Not quite new to being in love, but learning the act of loving you. 

He’d found so many ways to express his heart’s desire; written notes on scraps, gentle smiles, searing eyes. It was one thing in particular, though, that made his mouth dry, made his brain nearly short circuit, and it was your need to be in his space. 

Even after many days that bleed into weeks and meld into months, you make his cheeks warm with every lingering pass of your fingertips, make his stomach knot with every fluttering kiss to his skin. 

It’d been a pleasant surprise at first, but now it was a need, an absolute necessity to have you fused to him like a second skin. Your touch was a tacit word and he was learning to speak your language. 

The two of you together was normalcy and the clan members were more than delighted to know that the olo’eyktan’s son was lucky in love. But there were teasing whispers, lilting voices in the background that made something uncomfortable pinch the back of his brain. 

His skin would light up with equal parts want and embarrassment when you’d hang loosely around him during evening meals and the villagers his age would giggle and murmur behind their palms about the two of you. Didn’t help that you were an oblivious thing, or maybe you didn’t care, when you’d hold his hand in your own, occasionally bringing his fingertips to your lips during casual conversation. 

And he didn’t mind loving you endlessly when you were just two souls enjoying each other, but he can’t help but tense when his eyes wander and he sees watchful gazes. 

“Mighty warrior is a needy one, huh?” 

His friends, comrades since childhood, surround him on a sunny afternoon. Neteyam pauses his actions, arrow in the midst of a sharpening. 

His spine goes rigid and his eyes narrow. 

“What are you on about?” he asks, jaw locking. 

“Even in the moments you aren’t with her, you’re thinking about her,” his friend Marin says with a shiteating grin. 

“Don’t even,” Neteyam warns, eyes rolling as he continues with sharpening his arrows. 

“Oh, come on,” another one of his friends guffaws, twining a new bow string. “You haven’t said a word since we sat down.” 

And he wishes he could form a solid argument, but you are on his mind, all-consuming as always. Can’t help it when he’s pined after you for years and only recently found the courage to act on his heart. 

“Maybe I just don’t want to engage with you assholes,” Neteyam bites, fist tightening around his dagger. 

“Yeah, because if you open your mouth, all you’ll be able to talk about is my girl this and my girl that,” Marin teases. “Who knew future olo’eyktan was so clingy.” 

“Yeah, like it’s me who’s clingy,” he grunts, resuming the task at hand with much more fervor. 

“Is it not?” Marin challenges. “Oh, ________, my love, look at these flowers I picked for you.” 

The blood is rushing to his ears as his friends howl with laughter. 

“Syulang, I wrote you twelve pages declaring my love even though we’ve seen each other thrice since last eclipse.” The taunting makes him seethe, makes the feeling of discomfort surface all over again and the words are spilling before he can plug the dam. 

“Of course it’s not me,” Neteyam scoffs. “I keep my composure, but it’s her that insists on constantly reminding the village that we’re together. If I had it my way, nothing would have changed from when we were friends.”

It’s a lie and he knows it, his friends know it. But you, you who staggers outside of the training circle at the sound of multiple voices don’t know it. 

It’s like a swift strike to the gut, one that squashes every butterfly that tickled the lining of your stomach on your way to fetch the very man who’d held your heart and crushed it all the same. 

Your satchel, heavy with fruits and snacks for after your evening swim with Neteyam, weighs heavy across your front as you debate whether or not you should be listening to a conversation that is obviously not meant for your ear. But it’s like you’re rooted to the soil beneath you. 

“Yeah, okay,” Marin chuffs, obviously not convinced. “If you’re so bothered by your dynamic now, there isn’t any reason why you wouldn’t say anything. She’s your second skin and you love it.” 

He does, he thinks to himself. 

Of course he doesn’t, you realize, horrified, the thousand and one times your hands would find his body and he’d tense or shy away replaying like a horror reel in your brain. 

“I potentially hold the future of this clan in my hands,” Neteyam says. “It is my duty to endure all things whether or not I enjoy it.”

It’s like you’re doused with water so cold at the violent shiver that shakes your spine. 

Just another thing to endure, you mull over in your brain as the barge of emotions brims dangerously near the surface. 

You break from the edge of the clearing and you’re off. 

Something is off. 

And Neteyam is ashamed to admit that it takes him obnoxiously long to notice. Maybe it’s because he’s caught up in his duties, or maybe for once in his life, he isn’t worrying about meddlesome gazing, but the shift is imperceptible. 

You’re still you, so aching beautiful and devastatingly radiant, but something is different. He doesn’t pinpoint it until he’s bidding you a farewell, leaning into your space to plant a kiss on your lips when you ease away to beam at him nervously instead. 

His brows furrow when you wave, breaking away from him to scurry home. 

He thinks it’s a one off, something he shouldn’t read too much into, but he can’t help it. Not when he’s so used to your touch, so used to feeling the pads of your fingers denting his skin and the scald of your lips. 

He tries again a few nights later, after finally getting you alone. He’d been busy assisting his father in planning a raid at the end of the month and you were busy trying to put as much distance between the two of you.

“You’re awfully quiet, bug,” Neteyam observes softly, chin dipping under the water as he swims closer to where you float on the surface, eyes closed. 

You only hum, pleading silently that he’ll let it pass. But when his fingers skim your navel, you’re jerking away from him, settling so that a berth of glittering blue separates the two of you. 

He forces a laugh, wading closer to you as you seemingly shrink. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks when he sees something like discomfort flitting over your expression, concern eclipsing his features as he reaches forward to grab you by your arm. 

“Nothing…” you swallow, staring at the rounded stones beaded through the necklace you made him early on in your budding relationship.

He doesn’t buy it, tilting your chin up with deft fingers. 

“Hey, hey,” he says softly, searching your face for a tell. “Talk to me.” 

“Nothing,” you breathe, peeling away from him to wade back towards the embankment. “It’s nothing.” 

He watches as you hoist yourself up from the river, heart in his throat. 

He cracks when the others seem to notice, slowly catching onto the fact that the usually doting and loving partner of the olo’eyktan’s son is surprisingly distant. It’s during an evening meal, villagers surrounding the multiple fires, when it comes to a head. 

There’s an unusual space between your bodies as you chat with Kiri and a few others and he can’t help but close the gap as something akin to desperation washes over him. His fingers brush the span of your shoulders to pull you into his chest, lips a hairsbreadth from your temple before your palm snakes between your bodies and plants on his chest to nudge him away. 

He bites the inside of his cheek in annoyance as Marin and his other friends share knowing glances. 

While he boils silently, you ache to tell him that you don’t mean it, that there’s nothing more you’d want than to spend every waking moment in his arms, but that day in the clearing is a humiliating reminder that Neteyam is shackled to his honor and if it means making you happy despite his discomfort, he’d endure it all. 

You hate it, hate that he’d let you feel like things were alright leading up to this moment, that he’d suffer at the expense of mocking and badgering from his friends. Makes you feel embarrassed, sorry, that you’d read the two of you all wrong. 

You feel his fingers inching towards yours, pinkie overlapping with yours. Your hands involuntarily close into fists and that’s all it takes for Neteyam to shoot up from his perch on the log and take you by the elbow. 

There’s a hush as his friends and yours watch the two of you part ways with the group, the nearly feral look in their leader’s son suggestively mistaken. 

“Why won’t you touch me?” Neteyam asks fiercely, once enough distance lies between the two of you and the rest of the clan. 

His words make your cheeks warm, but he looks troubled, hurt. 

“I-” 

“Did I do something to disgust you? Did I…” 

His words melt into the background as you watch him with teary eyes. 

“You don’t have to pretend with me, Teyam,” you whisper. “You can tell me the truth. I’m a big girl.” 

“What are you talking about?” he asks, frustrated. “You’re the one hiding something. These past few weeks I’ve been trying to be with you, trying to love you and you keep pushing me away.” 

A twinge of annoyance erupts in the pit of your belly as you frown. 

“That’s rich coming from you,” you murmur hoarsely. 

“I’m so lost right now, ________,” he admits desperately. “We were fine, everything was great, and suddenly I feel like I’m losing you. Did I do something? Are you–” 

“Just be honest with me!” you cry out. “Why do you have to put on this front all the time? It’s just me, Neteyam! If I overwhelm you, if I embarrass you, just say it! It hurts worse when you act like it’s nothing.” 

And Christ, his friends were right. He is needy. Because you’re not a want but a lifeline. A dire necessity that he feels the need to cling to in this moment. This feels a lot like you two are splintering, and he’s about to open his mouth to ask what would compel you to say such a thing, but then it clicks. 

The final piece of the puzzle that he’d been agonizing over falls into place and his eyes are widening. 

“No,” he says vehemently. “That wasn’t–” 

“Is it not?” you cut him off as you dash the threatening tears away. 

“God, no,” he breathes. “I was– They were…”

You watch him with wet lashes and his heart aches as he takes the leap and pulls you into his chest with a shuddering breath. 

“I’m so stupid.” His chest rumbles as your ear presses to his heart, arms winding tightly around your figure to buoy you to place. “Fuck.” 

You hiccup and his hand cradles your head, peppering kisses against your hair as he sways your bodies like it’ll disorient the miscommunication and send it spiraling away. 

“I’m sorry,” you whimper. “I didn’t mean to be embarrassing. I–” 

“No, no, bug,” he swallows, hugging you so tight, you struggle to suck a breath into your lungs. “You’re not, I promise. I could never be embarrassed by you.” 

You shudder so hard his grip loosens, parting with you to cup your flushed cheeks in his hands. 

“They were ripping me a new one,” he says shakily. “Told me I was needy, clingy, and I was embarrassed because they’re right.” 

Your throat bobs and Neteyam’s thumb brushes over the apple of your cheeks. 

“You make me so weak, you don’t even understand,” he laughs humorlessly, body wracked with nerves, with want, with need. “I said it to save face because I never know what to do with myself around you.”

“You—”

“And I know it was wrong, talking out of my ass to get them to shut the fuck up,” his language is a crass reminder that he’s a former marine’s son, “but I don’t think I’ll ever get used to being yours.” 

Yours. 

It’s a sound declaration, one that makes you crumple like a baby because you’ve missed your person, and Neteyam hugs you close again. 

“I’m sorry I’m so clueless sometimes, bug,” he whispers, cheek nuzzling the top of your head. “Love you more than anything, I mean it.”

You hiccup again. 

“Love you, too, stupid” you mumble, arms wrapping around the narrow of his waist. 

It’s your first meaningful touch in weeks and Neteyam melts under the heat of your body, under the heat of your warm hands. 

neng © 2023

taglist; @nao-cchi , @jkiminpark , @philiasoul @amart-e , @s-u-t , @netesbby , @tayswiftlovebot , @dumb-fawkin-bitch , @ewackmn , @fanboyluvr , @neteyamoa , @itssiaaax , @girlpostingsposts , @athenachu

[footballffbarbiex]

Repeat After Me.

Okay I'm breaking the norm a little bit here, but I've wanted to do something nice for my doll @mvybanks for a while and tonight feels like a good time to do it.

If this is awful, lets just pretend I never posted it while I fake my own death, flee the country and we'll all just move on yeah?

There's probably mistakes as it's not been BETA'd but I'll die on my typo hill and that's that.

_

“Stop it,” your boyfriend’s voice pulls you from your thoughts but it’s the tone of it which makes you instinctively turn your head to look at him. It’s soft yet commanding. 

He’s sat propped up by a small pile of plush cushions behind him on the couch. One knee is drawn up to enable him to rest his book against his thigh while his arm is extended and rests over the knee. His beanie is pulled down, allowing a few unruly curls to flick out from beneath it. His tongue flicks a toothpick from side to side between his lips. 

He’s not even looking at you and for a moment or two, you’re both sitting in silence with you beginning to wonder if you had imagined him speaking. Furrowing your brow, you begin to bring your attention back to your phone but not before you catch his face turning ever so slightly to look your way. 

“I mean it.” He says. 

“I’m not doing anything.”

“You’re getting in your head again. Stop it.”

The temptation to huff and deny it is overwhelming but the last time you’d done this, he’d reprimanded you for not using your words to express how you were feeling and insisted on spending as long as it took between the sheets until you were capable of both saying how you felt and losing every thought that could form. In a way, some part of you wished that he’d take you back to bed and made it so that you didn’t have to think. Didn’t have to do anything other than be made to feel incredible and reciprocate it. 

“Do I need to come over there?” He asks, folding the corner of the page and closes it, ignoring the way you wince at the action. You’d left enough notes scribbled over pages of books while taking notes for your course to become desensitised by this, but to see it creased? That was something else. 

“Why? So that you can give me an up close and personal talk about how stressing over my answers now won’t change the result and I’m moping around for nothing?”

JJ discards the book and climbs from the couch, not stopping his movements until he’s not only in front of you but pushing your knees apart and covering your body with his own. His nose rubs against yours lightly, lips brushing over the curve of your own. “Are you going to stop?”

“No.” You say stubbornly. 

“No?” He repeats, eyebrow arching as he adjusts his weight to get into a better position. 

“No.” 

“Oh baby, what am I going to do with you?” he asks, more to himself than needing a reply from you. 

You open your mouth to give him one regardless but before you can do so, his lips are back on yours. He starts off soft, light kisses pressed to your lips, slowly building you up until your mouth parts and his tongue meets yours. Even then, he takes his time being ever so careful not to rush it. 

One hand clutches at his clothing, while the other one snakes up between his shoulder blades until your fingertips reach his beanie. It’s tugged from his head, only so that you can fill your hand with the softness of his hair. When JJ nibbles at your bottom lip, you give his hair a quick tug and feel the way he bucks his hips to yours. 

“Tell me you’ll stop stressing.” he mutters, barely allowing his lips to leave yours to form the words. 

“I’ll try.” You reply hurriedly. 

“No, I want you to say it.” He instructs, breaking the kiss to look down at you. There’s nothing he likes more than seeing you all flustered, with enlarged pupils and slightly swollen lips from kissing.

“Don’t play JJ. I thought you wanted to help.” Your tone is almost whiny. It should make you feel ashamed but you’re not. 

“I’m trying to. So,” He begins, hips grinding against you in a circular motion while his fingers stroke over your heated cheeks. His thumb traces over where his lips were only moments ago before dipping beneath your jaw and over as much of your throat as he can reach. “Repeat after me, I’ll stop stressing.”

“I’ll stop stressing.” you say obediently, swallowing hard when he smirks down at you.

“I’ll stop thinking about what I could have done better.”

When you groan with frustration at what he’s asking you to do. “Do I ha-”

“Yes. Unless you want me to stop?” He teases, dipping his head to your neck and you feel his mouth connect with your skin. Soft lips dragging over your pulse point, peppering the area with kisses, trailing them down to your shoulder where he playfully nips at the skin - knowing how shy you get about the idea of having a hickey in such a visible place.  

“I’ll stop thinking about what I could have done better.” You repeat and feel the way his teeth bare against you as he grins. 

“That’s my girl.”

[scudslut]

em's masterlist/guidelines

fluff - 𐙚 || smut - ♱ || angst - ✾

➳ Daryl Dixon

one-shots: sins and honey flavored sweetness 𐙚 ♱ ✾ heartsease 𐙚 ♱ a summer wasting 𐙚 midnight refreshments 𐙚 a new years surprise 𐙚 ♱ lazy mornings 𐙚 stay with me 𐙚 ✾ too sweet ♱

drabbles: taste me ♱ head w/ daryl 𐙚♱ daryl’s uncut ♱ s4 daryl 𐙚 ♱ ✾

➳ Scud Frohmeyer

one-shots: take me however you want too ♱

drabbles: cockwarming w/ scud ♱ scuds a slut (canonically) ♱

➳ My Edits

normy's bday dhl burn, burn, burn

please send requests!

About Me!

em | 20 | gemini

hi everyone! this is so long awaited (i’m legit so lazy) but finally i have a masterlist/about me!

╰─▸ my names emma, i’m obviously in love w daryl dixon/norman reedus. i love to write and make edits — u guys should totally follow my tiktok account @mrsemmadixon or otherwise known as scudslut;)

i met norman jdkskajajs at the nyc comic con 2023, he signed the back of my phone case, i’ll actually die on a fucking hill. yes, he’s just as godly in person.

in my day to day life i work with animals 10 hours a day, they are my main passion aside from writing and whatnot, so if i post a photo of a really cute dog i met, that’s why lmao.

i have 2 cats right now, my baby lily i got last year and sophie who i’ve had since i was a kid. typically we rescue all our animals!

i deal with extreme anxiety and depression from a major accident that happened in my life a few years ago (so if i don’t respond or have trouble posting sometimes… that’s why and i really hope everyone understands.)

I love, love, love music. I play the piano and guitar, probably not very good but who cares. some of my all time favorite artists are.. and here we go on a rampage... deftones, cigsaftersex, wheezer, nirvana, mac, frank, lana, djo, catpower, the vines, dinosaur jr, 21 sav, labi siffre, the kills, tom odell, basement, strokes, velvet underground, kendrick, norah jones, red hot chilies, the smiths, billy idol, the cure, no vacation, mazzy star, fleetwood, empire of the sun, pinegrove, otis redding, neil young, etta james, summer walker, motley crue, guns'n'roses, foo fighters, biggie, shady, drake, nelly, jay-z, $uici$ide boys, gucci, trippie... and so much more, my music taste is actually bipolar.

on that note, i actually have a playlist for daryl + norman (music he reposts/i think he’d like) lmk if u want me so share them.

i’m canadian, born and raised.

my parents are both extreme alcoholics, so i suffer from a multitude of childhood traumas as well as current ones. we love it here!:) but id like to think i relate to daryl in some sense, if its the only comfort i get from it.

i love pasta and wine so fucking much, if u don’t we are gonna have issues…

i spend my time either at my job, reading, writing, editing or spending time with some close friends.

and that’s pretty much me!:)

please feel free to ask me questions or request fics, i will absolutely love to do them! (as long as they follow guidelines) if your unsure, just message me to clarify! i won’t ever leave u on read, i promise!

My Guidelines:

absolutely no rape/SA/even slight connotations of it.

no incest.

hitting, slapping, or any extreme violence during play, is a no. (daryl loves to smack your ass when he hits it from the back… that’s okay… but he would. not. hit you.)

age play - i will dabble in this but nothing major where reader is barely an adult. the most i’ll do is early/mid 20’s and daryl is his canon age.

oh yes, and i will write for all norman reedus characters! if you want someone else, messsage/ask me!

gifs/dividers from @cafekitsune

© scudslut - all works are my own. please do not steal, copy, translate or modify any of my work!

[junicult]

the bachelors and their thoughts on tattoos and piercings?? and if they have any/want any

!! the bachelors & tattoos / piercings

contains ; talk of piercings / tattoos. farmer has piercings tattoos (not specified). sfw. one minor nsfw comment in shanes (i seriously can’t help myself).

note ; i made this super quickly in literally like 10 mins😭

harvey

- he doesn’t have either.

- and he doesn’t plan on ever getting them.

- i don’t think he necessarily hates them, (on other people at least) but it’s not something he personally seeks out. like, if you just so happen to have tattoos or piercings, he doesn’t care.

- …he might be the type that doesn’t really like extensive amounts of facial piercings, tho.

- at least, if he met you and you already had those piercings, he might not want to seek a further relationship.

- if you’re already together, and extremely committed, you wanting piercings or tattoos wouldn’t change how he loves you.

- if he did have any piercings, they’d probably just be his ears. but i can’t even picture him getting any.

sam.

- LMFAO i just know he’s the person that doesn’t have any tattoos, but he constantly talks about all the tattoo’s he wants to get. (me)

- piercings, however, are a different story🤭

- he started off simple by getting his earlobe pierced for sure. definitely thought it was very “rockstar” to have.

- overtime he got a few more, (all of which taken place in sebastian’s basement), such as an upper lobe & orbital.

- and he definitely has an industrial. ik it.

- it’s probably healed too which is crazy.

- also, i think it’d be cute for him to just have a dainty little hoop on his nostril.

- when it comes to his partner, he couldn’t care less if they have any piercings / tattoos or not.

- butttt he thinks they’re so attractive. piercings especially.

- lip piercings if we’re being even more specific. ik that if u had snake bites, or an ashley piercing…phew.

- it just gives him an excuse to stare at ur lips lol.

- i feel like he would want to have his nipples pierced, but he’d never go through with it.

- same reason why he doesn’t have any tattoos.

- in general, because he skateboards and stuff, i feel like he’s immune to scratches and scrapes.

- he was also definitely the kind of kid that always had his arm in a cast or something.

- but i’ll still die on this hill: he has a low pain tolerance.

- sebastian can attest to it.

- mf is constantly squirming each time the needle even approaches his skin.

shane.

- he’s more of a tattoo kind of person then piercings.

- is it safe to say i think the majority of his are from when he was drunk😭?

- his pain tolerance is fairly high. he’s got a couple tattoo’s, that’s for sure.

- one on his arm of something gridball related to reminisce back on those days, and one on his back or maybe chest.

- of what? he doesn’t even know.

- as for piercings, definitely his regular & upper earlobes. he never changes the jewelry, it’ll always be that.

- i feel like he also has a daith just bc he heard it helps w migraines 😭

- but he is totally attracted to piercings.

- have any kind of facial piercings you want, he doesn’t care.

- but he’s an absolute sucker for body piercings, whether you have them or not.

- if u have ur belly button pierced, or even…u know…ur nipples dare i say; lord😭😭

- if ur dating, believe me he’s not ignoring those.

- when he sees u naked for the first time, or for the first time after u got those pierced—he’d be such a little asshole.

- “oh, these are nice.” he just raises his eyebrows, smirking down. “they healed?”

- if they are then…well. you already know.

- also he’s a sucker for a tramp stamp😭

- those were so popular in the 90s ik he’d lose his mind if u had one.

sebastian.

- pelican town’s unofficial piercer.

- lord.

- aside from multiple stick and pokes when he was in his teens, he doesn’t have any tattoos.

- they’re all definitely of things he looks back on and physically cringes. he doesn’t even tell people he has them, (besides sam & abby who were around when he was in that phase)

- the only reason you’d find out about them is if you saw them and asked him about it.

- as for piercings, he’s decked out.

- i’m talking lobes, orbital, helix, industrial, daith, conch. his ears are HEAVY.

- his eyebrow, nose, and lip is pierced too.

- his eyebrow might be one of his favs, and i also wholeheartedly believe that was his first ever piercing on himself when he was like 16. he stuck with it since.

- he also just has a nostril hoop. it’s black ofc.

- and…his lip piercing…

- a vertical labret 🤭🤭🤭.

- & u can disagree with me on this, but i’d like to think all of his piercings are properly cared for, cleaned, and healed. he’s not wasting any time caring for an infection.

- i also wanna say he has a few that he’s taken out as he’s gotten older.

- like his bridge piercing. he had it for a couple years before he decided to take it out, so he has a little scar there.

- i feel like abby has snake bites, which convinced him to get snake bites at one point. but when he got his labret, he took those out.

- lastly, i definitely think he had a septum at one point, but pretty quickly he realized it just didn’t suit him so he took it out.

- as for his partner, if you had any piercings—he doesn’t care. why would he?

- he’s incredibly impartial. whether you have them or don’t.

- but let me tell you…if you don’t have any, he’ll gladly change that if you ever asked😇😇

alex.

- he has none.

- zilch. zero.

- he’s not the biggest fan of a ton of piercings. unfortunately i feel like he was raised in that kind of household, so he was conditioned to feel the same way (we’ve all met george).

- like, if you have ur ears pierced or maybe one little face piercing, i don’t think he’d mind that much.

- it definitely depends on how much he likes you.

- if he met you while you had face piercings, he’d probably judge you by cover.

- but if you slowly got them after you’ve been dating a while, i feel like that’s when he’s realize how attractive they can be.

- if you got your lip pierced, and he got to see how plump your lips get from swelling—that might drive him crazy.

- everytime he leans in for a kiss you’d have to pull away, tutting, “ah-ah, no kissing.”

- it’s like ur torturing him.

- and if you ever convinced him to get a piercing, he’d only allow his ears.

- for tattoos, i think it’d be so sweet to imagine him wanting one that linked to his mom.

- like something she’s said before, a nickname she gave him, maybe even if she had a tattoo he’d get the same one.

- because he’s not that emotionally available, he never told anyone.

- not until u asked, and since he’s trusts you more then anyone, he doesn’t mind being vulnerable to you.

elliot.

- he has both.

- but his are just so beautiful that you’d literally see them on pinterest, y’know?

- he’s so tasteful with his piercings and tattoos.

- he’s a patchwork fan. like small separate tattoos on his arms and torso.

- each of which have meaning to him in someway.

- and his piercings are soo small and dainty. (GOLD TOO. he’s strictly gold.)

- he has a little stud on his nostril, and his ears are similar to sebastian’s.

- but he’s much more organized then anyone else. his piercings all took place over time, and they’re all matched. he’s a strict gold jewelry person.

- it just makes him look so clean and put together.

- when it comes to you, he in general doesn’t care whether you have them or not.

- physical attraction isn’t the biggest deal to him. so what if you do / don’t have piercings.

- but he can definitely appreciate if you’re just as dedicated to your jewelry / tattoos as he is.

[azullumi]

“heart to heart” ; kaveh, wanderer, xiao

summary — he could only watch as you die ; alternatively, he’s there to comfort and hold you as you take your last breath.

characters — kaveh, wanderer, and xiao (w/ gender-neutral reader)

tags — angst but not that heavy but not that light also, grammatical errors bcs i don’t like to proofread, established relationship ; scenario/one-shot

words — 1431

note — u all had too much fluff these past few days, anyways, this is part 2 out of 2!! read the previous one here (^^)/

;; KAVEH

not again.

you were his but right now, death seems to hold on to your hand as if you were never his own, the half of him, his heart and his soul. they cannot take you from him, not again, not you—why does he always someone dear to him? why does it have to be you?

“how about a house on top of the hills or the mountains?” you say over the warm beverage that you held in between your hands and a short sound of laughter escapes him, “wouldn’t that be dangerous? a landslide could occur while we’re inside our home.”

“at least we’re going to die together, right?” he pauses, turning around to meet your tender gaze and he answered with a small smile on his lips. “that is romantic but i would rather grow old with you and die together by natural causes.”

“i can’t fight anymore. i’m… tired.” you muttered, loud enough for him to hear, as you could only stare at the same boring ceiling—he insisted that it was beautiful by the time this very home was built but if you were to always see it, wouldn’t you be tired of its beauty?—and lay on the soft bed. it’s almost like you were a corpse and oftentimes, the thought of death being the kindest thing for the both of you two occurs in your head.

“don’t say that, please…”

you couldn’t live until you were old and frail with him but even so, you were happy. you were happy that you got to meet him, you were happy that someone as lovely as him was willing to kiss your scars gently as if all that you were was a fragile being. in the short amount of time you have spent together with him, he made you the happiest, the most loved, the most cherished, he made you feel alive.

“i don’t care where we are as long as i’m there with you.” he murmurs against your lips, a pretty shade of pink and smiling. you tangle your fingers in the strands of his blonde hair, feeling his breath fan your skin and it was ticklish yet comforting at the same. “what if you’re not there?”

he presses yet another kiss, a short one but the sweetness lingered on your own when he parted. “i will be there, always, holding your hand.”

“i’m getting sleepy, kaveh…”

he chokes on his own sob, hand coming up to hold your own and intertwine it with his. he squeezed it rather softly and you tried to do the same but there was nothing left in you, just a slow heart and a weak body that is holding on to the faint light that you call life. “p-please, hold on a little much longer, okay? i’ll find a cure, i’ll find the medicine for you so please—stay awake.”

“i can’t—i’m sorry I won't be there until the end.”

“but i—i love you so much, i love you. please always remember that, kaveh.” he wasn’t even given the chance to answer when you had already closed your eyes and anything he would say at that point will not reach you.

as your hand loosens and slips off his hold, so does he falls to the floor. nothing could have prepared him for your last goodbye.

;; WANDERER

“i have a confession to make.”

you spoke weakly, voice nearing to a whisper, a testament to your state, and in contrast to your loosening grip on his hand, he holds you rather tightly as if you’re going to be taken away from him—a denial, eyes choosing to be blind to avoid facing the dreadful truth. “shut up, stop acting like you’re going to die!”

he continued, holding back a sob, “you are not going to die.” you never failed to notice the smallest falter in his expression—his crumpled expression relaxing into a soft one when he sees you, the small and genuine smile tugging on his lips, and right now, especially at this moment when his voice cracked and softened while speaking. he had already expected the moment when you’ll leave him, he was a puppet that can live long and you were just a mortal, a weak one. he was going to outlive you but why? why does it have to be this soon?

“you can tell me your confession later so please…”

but you knew better than that, you know there wasn’t going to be a later for both of you—maybe for him and only for him—, you weren’t foolish to not know that, death was already waiting for you with an open door but he was still tugging and holding on to your hand.

“i—i love you, kuni.”

he doesn’t respond, only holding his tongue back as he brings your hand to his lips and presses a long kiss on it but you were numb, you were already feeling numb and you hate how much his warmth was slipping off you, you hate how you couldn’t feel him underneath your touch, you hate that you’re dying right now and you don’t get to live your fullest with him.

“i love you, say it back, please?” a sad smile engulfs your lips as you try to meet his eyes with your unfocused gaze, was it the tears or was it the fact that your consciousness is fading off you?

“i—i love you. i love you, i love you, so please just stop talking, just stop it.” if you truly love him, you’ll stay. “don’t—“ his voice breaks out into a sob, tears that he had been holding back since earlier came like a waterfall. to love is to stay, is to be with him.

but you didn’t, you couldn’t, and for the last, you mouth those three words at him with a smile on your face, feeling your body going limp as your eyes closed.

he whispers, “—don’t leave me,” to the ghost of you.

;; XIAO

thoughts still continued to haunt his mind every time the memory resurfaces on a silent cold morning: if only he was a second early, if only he was there, if only he was able to protect you. if only he wasn’t so foolish.

“xiao.”

he could still recall your voice and the way you called out to his name, it was distant, almost seemed to be fading and everything started to piece together into the sight before him as soon as the environment changed when he answered to your feeble call of his name.

it looks like a fight has occurred, the scent of it wafting to his senses—it reeks of blood, it reeks of death, and his frightened gaze laid on your figure on the cold ground, almost lifeless.

he calls out to your name and in contrast to your soft voice, his was audible, loud enough to keep you holding on the last strand of your slipping consciousness. it was a shout, deriving from panic and fear, and you noticed yourself being picked up by a pair of arms, familiar ones soon after.

“xiao…?”

“i’m here, don’t talk. i’m going to find you some hel—“

you quickly interrupted him with a cough, blood sputtering out of your mouth as you did, and his eyes widened, a breath getting stuck on his throat. and just for a brief moment, he saw his world crumble down seeing that rude warm liquid staining your clothes. his body shook, he was all too familiar with this sight, all too familiar with the scene—he had taken many lives in the battlefield to not recognize the death that seeps into your ragged breath.

and he yields to his crumbling resolve because even if he chooses to deny what is happening, it still won’t stop you from dying. he wanted to scold you, he wanted to reprimand you for putting yourself in danger, but that’s not what you needed, not when all you needed was him and his comfort in your last.

“why…?” was all he could say as he dropped to the floor, tear-stained eyes clouding his vision while he holds you close. you knew what he was asking and you knew the answer to it but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him—if ever he’ll learn the reason, he’ll blame myself and you don’t want that, you don’t want him to be in such misery when it wasn’t his fault that he wasn’t there.

“you’re here… thank you.” and with all the strength left in you, you spoke to him in a low voice, a smile plastered on your blood-stained lips, before your vision dims and you lay limp in his hold; he could only cradle your head closer to him as weak sobs started to escape his lips.

if only.

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

[the-crustation-sensation]

Even more Hobie x reader hc’s!!

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A/N Just SFW for now bc I have NO ideas for smut currently 😭

I might post some later tho <3

As always I write these for anyone to insert, so non-gendered terms are used (:

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* I am SICK AND TIRED of you guys hcing him as a dirty troll. just bc he’s a punk does not mean he doesn’t have fucking hygiene skills. Yes ofc he’s Spider-Man so he doesn’t have a lot of free time but it’s not like he goes a month without showering

* I feel like most of the time he smells like old cologne (probably something with musk, oak, or vanilla) and weed

* I’m also tired of you guys hcing him as a toxic asshole (bro LITERALLY helped miles without even knowing him, and how already homies within like the first 10 minutes of meeting)

* With that said you already know he’d be the most caring and attentive partner

* He definitely has a note on his phone of things you like, are passionate about, and mentioned wanting. It just keeps growing bc he wants to keep track of everything you love 😭

* Anytime he gives you a gift he hand makes it (or alternatively gets it from a small business) he says it feels more meaningful and personal

* I think his love languages are acts of service and physical touch

* This man is obsessed with showing you off to EVERYONEEE. He would definitely pull you onstage during one of his concerts just to be like “hey everyone this is my S/O”

* He would love walking around with his hand in your back pocket, or yours In his

* He’s a crow, 100% picks up random stuff off of the sidewalk that caught his eye and gives it to you

* kind of a huge klepto He does not hesitate shoplifting from big corporations when he sees something he knows you’d like

* Although he would never EVER steal from a small business

* Just imagine he comes home and gives you a shirt for a band you like and you see the security tag is still on 😭 and he’s like “what 🤨”

* Definitely a “hmm?” “Oh yeah?” “Is that so?” “Make me” type of guy (SCREAMING)

* He’s such a tease, and just a brat in general. Just imagine your fed up and ask him to do something and he pulls the “yes ma’am/sir” move

* He’s the type of help bust you out of a holding cell/help you run from the police (he’s your partner in crime I’ll die on this hill)

* He love starting harmless beef with people online for no reason, specifically getting into fights with kids on ROBLOX just to see them get mad

* Man has like 1029292 emails to make new accounts bc he’s gotten banned from doing this so many times 😭

* He loves playing video games with you. especially if your playing something like cod or a racing game he would aggressively wiggle your controls to mess you up and act like nothing happened

* Ok ok hear me out, he doesn’t believe in games or things having an age limit, so he would play those 2 player ROBLOX obbys with you. He also LOVES playing horror games with you, you guys always yell at eachother over who has to go in front tho

* Y’all can communicate without even speaking ISTG

* He discreetly nudges your shoulder during a meeting and side eyes someone in the room, translates to “you see this shit??” Glancing towards the door then at you “let’s ditch this” peeking over someone’s shoulder and making eye contact with you while he’s talking to someone “HELP ME.” Or alternatively “is this bitch FR??”

* He has the mouth of a sailor, has taught mayday multiple cus words and acts like nothing happened

* He LOVES kids, absolutely loves them, he would be such an amazing parent

THIS IS HIM PROVE ME WRONG

* This might be an unpopular opinion but I don’t think he would give a shit what race/gender you are, he loves you for YOU and doesn’t care what color you are or what’s in-between your legs (in short he’s bisexual and doesn’t give a shit about whatever you are, he’s here for your personality)

* I think his favorite flavor of juice would be cranberry, but like the rlly tart cranberry juice

* Height thing’s but not because your short, just bc he’s freakishly tall

* As a fandom we’ve already established he does the thing where your cooking, or minding your own business, and he hugs you from behind and puts his chin on your head/shoulder

* I don’t think he has a “type” per say, but I feel like he’d prefer people who are also in any sort of alternative culture (punk, goth, emo, alt, and I dare say earthy/fairy TO AN EXTENT counts for that)

* I am biased because you can’t tell me this man wouldn’t fuck with a goth bitch, or just another punk (his WEAKNESS is punk girls)

* He loves doing makeup for you, especially eyeliner because that gives him and excuse to get you to sit in his lap

* If you don’t already play guitar, he would defiantly teach you by sitting behind you with his head on your shoulder to show you the right cords

* And he’s definitely gonna be praising tf outta you “good job” “yeah, you got it love” “mhm just like that”

* He also loves doing your hair/helping you do/cut your hair, no matter what texture it is

* I feel like before he settled in punk he went through an emo phase in middle school, and HATES his pictures from that era, like he would tackle someone to get it away if they found any trace of it

* He probably had some fuck ass fake piercings because his parents wouldn’t let him get real ones, and crusty eyeliner in his 7Th grade school photo

* I think his first face piercing was a nose piercing he got done in the school bathrooms in 10th grade by some girl with a safety pin

* It 100% got hella infected and he got so grounded for that

* He puts you first in almost every situation, like it he’s in the middle of a mission with another spider, and you text him, it will be like that scene with miles fighting the spot because he will text you back no matter WHAT

* I’m not sure about this one but I think his world is set in the early 70s (when punk fashion started getting more popular) so when he first came to HQ and saw all of this new text he was amazed and confused as hell

* It took him like a week to figure out most of that shit at HQ

* Most people don’t know he lives on a house houseboat, but I absolutely love that.

* Shit constantly falls off of his shelves from the waves but he couldn’t give 2 fucks about it

* he hates being called “Hobart” if you call him that he’ll either not respond, or know that your PISSED and shits about to go down

* he’s definitely pansexual or bisexual, like I said he loves pussy and dick equally, I feel like also hes either a transman, or AMAB and gender-fluid. Either way there’s no way he’s a cis man, he ATLEAST is he/they

* if he is a transman he would get top surgery but I don’t think he would get bottom surgery, he loves his man-pussy and he thinks if your too brainwashed by society’s gender norms then fuck you

* I think he would also get vines or mushrooms, or like barbed wire tattooed near his top scars

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Alright that’s everything I have for today! If you have any ideas please don’t hesitate to comment or to hit up my asks! I have a few asks I’m currently working on but I also have a bigger original story I’m writing so I’ve kinda been in writers block

If you want to be apart of my tag list don’t hesitate to ask (:

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[daisies-and-domming]

Hey!! Would you do a sub!billy hargrove/dom!reader smut? Thank u <3

Boy Next Door (NSFW)

S3 spoilers in my author’s note, and vague reference to how S2 ends!! 

Summary: You’ve lived in the trailer park nearly your entire life, long enough to know that nothing in Hawkins was ever normal. So when the new king of the school starts dropping by your trailer at ungodly hours, you don’t even blink - why would you? Weirder shit’s happened here, and you’re certainly not complaining either, not when the king decides to get on his knees for you.

Warnings: swearing, smut, dom!reader, reader has an undefined hole, p in said undefined hole, sub!billy, oral (reader receiving), frottage(?), edging, praise, little bits of degradation (reader calls billy “slut” and talks condescendingly at some points), unsafe sex (wrap it before you tap it kids!!), a lil bit of a breeding kink, billy likes when reader pulls on his hair <3

Let me know if you think I missed anything!!

All characters are over 18 :)

Oh my god anon I didn’t know I needed sub!billy until you sent this in and now I’m scouring the website for more… I’m a whore for subby men, what can I say 🤷 He’s a little ooc but I firmly believe that billy is secretly a soft with people he trusts - sure, he’s mean to max, but I think that’s because he doesn’t want her involved in his life of alcohol and flirting - and I’ll die on that hill. This is set between S2 and S3, but in my universe billy doesn’t die during S3 anyways because I’m the author and I said so >:O Anyways, I had so much fun writing this, thank you for the request!! It takes like 1000 words to get to the smut, I’m so sorry ;-; But the smut is like 2000 some words, so hopefully that makes up for it ahaha I went batshit

– – –

You’ve lived in this dinghy trailer park in the middle of nowhere, Indiana, your entire conscious life. When your parents were really drunk (which, in all honesty, was far more often than you were willing to admit) they would talk about their “golden days”: when your parents were something other than full-time alcoholics, living in the suburbs of Cleveland in a nice neighbourhood. You were told you were born there, in that nice suburb house near the coast of one of the great lakes, but you’ve never had the nerve to ask what happened that landed them here, in Hawkins. 

But Ohio was none of your concern now. There were supernatural beings practically on your doorstep and the only people that seemed to care were the children that your friend Steve seemingly adopted, which would make for a good movie. But the fact that a ragtag bunch of kids were the ones saving your very real world left a nauseating pit in your stomach. Sure, the angry buzz cut kid who they called “Eleven” put an end to the last thing that came after Hawkins, but something tells you this was just the beginning. No matter. At the moment, you had bigger things to worry about. Like the fact that there’s a soft knocking on your door, despite the little analog clock reading a blinking “2:34am”.

Peering through the peephole, a clearly drunk Billy Hargrove stood, wobbling slightly. You’d seen him around school - it’s hard not to when he drives a flashy car and insists on poking at Steve - but certainly hadn’t spoken to him before. Opening the door slightly, you make eye contact with the man in question.

“Hi,” you say, tentatively. “Can I help you?”

“l/n!!” he slurs, eyes lighting up. “What’re y’doin in my trailer?”

You frown at him. “This is where I live, dipshit. Your trailer is more than a few down.”

“Mmm, I don’t think so,” he said, nudging at you. “Lemme in, will ya?”

You stood firm, skeptical. “Why should I?”

“Because,” he drawls. “You’re pretty, I’m pretty, we should do pretty people stuff together.”

You snort, but move to the side. You didn’t know what his home life was like, but, nevertheless, sending him away in the middle of the night, piss drunk, was dumb. If he had gotten hurt on the way back to his trailer because you had sent him away you would never forgive yourself. Sure, he seemed like a pretentious douchebag, but even pretentious douchebags deserve a chance. Besides, the ‘rents were out, which meant there wouldn’t be any “did you use protection?” or “you aren’t pregnant, are you?” questions the following morning.

“l/n,” Billy whined out, making you turn in time to see him flop onto your couch. “Why aren’t we doin’ pretty people stuff yet?”

You shut and lock the door, plopping yourself down on the floor in front of the couch in an attempt to set an unspoken boundary. “Because you’re drunk. You’re welcome to come over here sober some time and try this whole song and dance then, but I believe in full consent when doin’ that tango. You’re inebriated, so no ‘pretty people stuff’ for you tonight.”

He whined dramatically. “But that’s half the fun of getting drunk!!”

“God, you’re really drunk,” you say, wrinkling your nose at the smell. “We can talk if you want, but you’re not getting any tonight, lover boy.”

“Ooooh, you wanna hear about the crazy shit that Tina did at the party today??” – – – 

This became a recurring event. Billy would go out and party, then come over, drunk out of his mind and strangely soft. You had learned a lot about him - about Max (who he seemed to truly care about, despite how he acted when sober), about his dickhead father, about his mother, about why he drowned himself in people and alcohol all the time. You weren’t sure why he chose to keep dropping by, but you weren’t too perturbed. In any other situation, you might even consider him your friend. But, you remind yourself, he’s always drunk or high or some combination of the two. You don’t make friends when you’re drunk. And you certainly don’t fall for them, either.

A knock resonated at your door and you froze, staring at the clock. It was 3:24pm on a Saturday afternoon, unless Steve had decided to give you a surprise visit there should be no one at the door.

“l/n! Open the goddamn door,” a voice rang out, one that you recognized immediately. “I don’t have all goddamn day!”

You stumble to the door, opening it embarrassingly quickly. “Hi???”

“Hey,” he said, shoving his way past you.

“Wait wait wait,” you said, spinning around to him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“What I normally do, dickbag,” Billy said, refusing to make eye contact. “We gonna talk or what?”

You close the door gently, clicking the lock almost tentatively. “You’re sober.”

A flash of hurt crossed his face, but he quickly covered it up. “Am I not allowed to be?”

“That - that’s not what I’m saying!” you exclaimed, exasperated. “I just - I kinda figured you didn’t want to talk to me, normally. I’m not exactly your usual crowd.”

He groaned, running a hand over his face. “Look - how do I say this? I… don’t think you’re that shitty, or whatever. Sure, Tina’s a hot piece of ass, but if I tried to actually, I don’t fucking know, talk to her, she’d just laugh and tell me to ‘shut up’ or somethin’.”

“I don’t think you’re that shitty, either,” you say, slowly. “Is that all you wanted to talk about…? We could’ve done this on the porch.”

“It’s a trailer, there’s no goddamn porch,” he deadpans, rolling his eyes but still not making eye contact with you.

“You’re dodging,” you say, walking over to him and crowding him a bit. “What’s up, buttercup?”

“I don’t want to go back home,” he said bluntly, still dodging your prying eyes. “Deadbeat dad is on a rampage again. Dropped Max off at the arcade and found myself here.”

You blink up at him and back up a bit, feeling awful for prying. “Shit man - sorry I pushed you. You’re welcome here whenever you want to escape your place, sober or not. Or if you just want to come over. You can bring Max, too, she seems nice!! My ‘rents are never around, like ever, and even when they are they’re drunk and hiding in their room, and there’s a key under the doormat in the back if you need an escape and I’m not here - though I’d be careful about my parents, they get pretty drunk sometimes too, it’s not pretty. That’s not the point though! Point is, you’re always welcome, I’m sorry for prying-”

He pushed you to the couch, a small smile on his face, and were his eyes a little teary?? “Shut up, loser. I got it, I’m welcome to be here. Not shocked, though, people love me, of course you’d want me around.”

You roll your eyes at his smirk, trying to tug him down to the couch. However, you hadn’t anticipated him resisting, and your knee jerk reaction was to just yank. He stumbled and landed on top of you, knees straddling your legs. He blinks at you, owlishly, face flushed and pupils beginning to dilate.

You grin up at him, jokingly winking. “Just where I wanted you, baby.”

“Can I- can I take you up on your previous offer?” he said, voice lacking its usual bravado and confidence. 

“Previous offer as in…?”

“Sex,” he said, straightforward. “You said if I was sober we could fuck.”

“What eloquence, Mr. Hargrove,” you said. “And I believe we referred to it as ‘pretty people stuff.’”

“That’s a yes, yeah?” he said, hands resting on the couch on either side of your head.

“Aw, look at you, asking for consent,” you said, grinning up at him deviously. “Mmm…maybe if you beg me.”

He looked at you, incredulous. “If you think I’ll ever beg for something, you’ve got something coming-”

You cut him off, pulling him down into a harsh kiss. He groaned into the kiss, grinding down into your clothed sex. When he pulls away, he smirks down at you, cocky.

“You’re going to be the one begging for me, babe,” he said, head tilting. “So how ‘bout we hear it, hm?”

Well that wouldn’t do. Using all your strength, you flip your positions, grinding down on him once you’ve settled above him.

“If we’re doing this, baby boy,” you said, sultry. “We’re doing this my way, got it?”

You could see the struggle in his eyes, and began to grind down on him lightly. 

“Come on, sweet thing,” you murmured against his lips, rolling your hips in a way that had his eyes rolling back. “You can be good for me, can’t you?”

“Mm- yeah, yes, I can be good for you,” he groaned. “Now get on with it, will you?”

You frown at him, faux pouting. “Thought you were gonna be good. But that’s fine, we can play that game, I don’t mind.”

He opened his mouth to object but was cut off when your grinding turned harsh and fast, his words turning into a breathy moan. He slapped a hand over his mouth but you weren’t having it.

“Listen here, Hargrove,” you growled. “You’re going to let me hear those pretty little sounds or you’re not going to come. Understand?”

“No way in hell-”

You reach a hand down to his straining cock and squeeze, hard, revelling in the way his head rolls back and his hips jerk up into your hand. His mouth opens and closes uselessly, and you lean your weight onto your knees so you can shove your fingers that aren’t cradling his cock right down his throat. He gags, eyes glazed and unfocused.

“God, look at you,” you groan, voice strained. “Made for this, made for me to use, huh?”

He tries to respond but all that comes out are choked moans, drool dribbling down his chin as he gags on your fingers. You other hand kickstarts, rubbing him not-so-nicely through his pants. He looked gorgeous like this: choking on your fingers, eyes unfocused, hips bucking uncontrollably into your harsh touches. God, you just want to drown yourself in the feeling of the power you had over this man, this man who insisted on so much control in his everyday life. But here he was, on your couch, gagging on your fingers like he never wanted anything else. 

His bucking gets more erratic and his breaths get shorter, signalling an incoming orgasm. You paw at his cock a little harder, removing your fingers from down his throat so you could hear him when you tear his orgasm away from him.

“You wanna cum, baby?” you coo, letting your hips take over for your hand and grinding down on his clothed erection. “Wanna cum for me?”

“Yeah - gonna cum, gonna cum, let me cum-”

“No.”

His hips jolt upwards as you lift yourself from his lap, chasing after your heat. You smirk sadistically at him, chuckling at the glare he gives you in exchange for your denial.

“What the fuck?!” he yells, hands clenching at his sides (but not moving to change his predicament, you noted). “I was so fucking close, why would you-”

You put a finger on his lips, shushing him. “You were a brat earlier, so I’m treating you like one. Maybe if you get me off I will consider letting you come.”

“Yeah?” he said, still panting from his lost orgasm. “Yeah, I can fuckin’ do that.”

“Good,” you say, getting up. “Get on your knees in front of the couch.”

He snorted at first, but his face contorted when he realised you were serious. “You’ve got to be kidding me, right? You’re not going to get me on my knees, sweetheart.”

“Then you’re not going to cum,” you said matter-of-factly. “Eat me out on your knees like the little slut you are or you don’t get to cum.”

His nose scrunched up angrily but he moved to get down in front of the couch. “There. That make your sick little heart happy?”

“Maybe if you weren’t such a mouthy brat we wouldn’t be here in the first place,” you said, discarding your pants and undergarments god knows where. “Don’t touch without permission, m’kay?”

He growled but kept his hands obediently at his side. In spite of all his back talk, Billy didn’t ever make a move to take control. He wants this, you realise, but he doesn’t want to admit it.

“How cute,” you coo, pinching his cheek as you settle yourself in front of him. “Now eat me out - no hands though, baby. Just put your pretty little mouth to better use for me, mhm?”

He begrudgingly folds his hands behind his back and buries himself in your hole. Your head rolls back, a low groan escaping your mouth. If he wasn’t drowning himself in you he might see your composure slipping, but he seemed just as out of it as you. Hips jerking up into nothing, hands clasped behind his back, face red and teary, Billy looked like so fucking good that you felt yourself clenching around his tongue, rolling your hips into his lapping. 

“God… so good with that tongue, baby, shit - keep doing that, y-yeah, just like that,” you blabber out, a hand flying to grip at his hair. You give an experimental tug and grin when he moans, breathy and high. 

“Y-yeah? You want me to tug on your - ngh - hair? Shove you deeper into me?” you say, chuckling lowly when he nods into you. “Your wish is my command, sweet thing.”

You could feel your orgasm drawing nearer as Billy’s talented tongue ruined your insides. His movements were precise, even without the use of his hands, and when he nicked your sweet spot you came, clamping your thighs around his head as you tugged harshly on his hair. 

Panting, you try to regain enough composure to address Billy. “God, sweetheart, your so fucking good with your tongue.”

“Yeah?” he said, tone cocky despite the straining bulge in his jeans. “You gonna let me use you now? I know you want it darlin’, you can’t keep pretending to have contr - mph!”

You yanked him up in a kiss, effectively shutting him up. Your legs were a little shaky from your previous orgasm but you were stubborn: there’s no way in hell after all this you would give Billy the satisfaction of fucking into you.

“Get on the goddamn couch,” you said, panting as you pulled away. “I’m going to ride you until all you can think of is me.”

“Fuck, pretty thing,” he groans, dropping onto the couch. “You better hold true to that or I might have to take over.”

“If you think you have a say in how this goes you’re dead wrong,” you said, straddling his hips. “You don’t cum until I say, got it baby?”

“Easy peasy,” he said, ever the fucking brat. “Think you can hold it sweets? Because I can guarantee that you’ll be creaming around my cock in no time.”

“Mhm,” you murmur, unimpressed as you help him wiggle out of his jeans and underwear. “Whatever you need to help you sleep at night.”

“You scared you can’t take it - shit!” he moans, cock twitching as you sink down on him in one slide. “Fuck, you gotta give a man a warning-”

You don’t. Bouncing up and down on his cock at a harsh pace, your trailer is filled with the lewd sound of skin slapping skin. You’re sure the neighbours can tell what you two are doing - hell, the whole trailer park probably knew - but you didn’t have the heart to care. His cock stretched you wide, so goddamn girthy that every bounce had white bouncing at the edge of your vision. 

Billy wasn’t much better. He had a death grip on your hips, finger-shaped bruises already forming. Tongue sticking out, eye half-lidded and staring up at you reverently, Billy was a fucked out mess already and you’d just started.

“Mmngh, feelin’ good, pretty boy? God… just look at you, takin’ - ungh - t-takin’ it so goddamn well, shit,” you said, still slamming yourself down on his cock like your life depended on it. 

“Mmm, fuck, please, please please please-” 

You couldn’t even tell what he was begging for anymore. “What do you - ngh - what do you need, babe - fuck, just like that pretty thing - huh? Got to be specific, darlin’ - god…”

“Cum,” he moans out, eyes shut tightly as he bucks into you. “Need t’ fuckin’ cum!”

You clench around him as he bucks, eyes rolling back a bit. “Ngh, yeah? You wanna cum? Wanna fill my pretty little hole - ahn, do that again, jesus - fill my pretty little hole with your cum?”

“Yeah, shit. Gonna let me?”

“Mhmm, I don’t know…” you said, pretending to ponder like you weren’t desperate to feel him fill you up. “Have you been - jesus fucking christ - have you been good?”

“‘ve been good!!” he wails, eyes teary as he stares up at you. “Been so good, such a good boy, please let me cum, please, jus’ wanna be you good boy, please please please!”

Your eyes roll back. Fuck, you hadn’t expected him to beg in return. Slowing down a bit, your bounces send him slow and deep, causing you to clench. His eyes cross and his grip on the couch turns his knuckles white, trying so goddamn hard to hold himself back.

“You can cum,” you groan, his cock rutting against your sweet spot just right. “You can cum, baby, cum with me, want you to cum with me-”

Your vision goes white and you clench, gripping his cock harshly. He near screams, fucking himself up into you as he came. You both melt into each other, a panting, post-orgasm mess tangled on the couch. When your brain was finally back online, you winch, gently sliding his softened cock out of you.

“Fuck, really did a number on me,” Billy murmured, ragdolled on the couch looking like he never wanted to move. “Didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Fuck off, Hargrove,” you say, trying your best to walk (or waddle, rather) your way to the kitchen to start cleaning off.

“You love me and you know it!”

You roll your eyes, grabbing a washcloth and dampening it. God, he was such a doofus. You couldn’t believe that the rest of the school considered him the king, but maybe your friendship was something special. You sure hoped so - you were certain he wasn’t just submitting himself to anyone, after all. 

“Where the fuck did you go, dickhead? The great Billy Hargrove demands cuddles!”

God, he was such a dork sometimes. You snort, but make your way back to the living room, water bottle and damp washcloth in hand. 

“Have patience, great Billy,” you said, handing him the water bottle before gently cleaning him up. “Great things come for those who wait.”

“Oh shut up,” he said, melting into your touch. “I didn’t come here for you to philosophise.”

“Course, course,” you say, jokingly. “Okay, all done. Let’s pick up all our shit and go to my room, yeah? Really don’t want my parents to come home and find us naked in the living room.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re boring,” he jokes, wobbly as he stands to help you grab your discarded clothes. “Half the fun is getting caught.”

“Perv,” you shot back.

“Says the one who rode me on their parents' couch.”

“Ew!! Don’t fucking say that, I don’t want to think about my parents in the afterglow!”

“You’re the one who brought them up!” “Yeah, because I don’t want them involved in my post-orgasmic haze!!” you say, exasperated. “Cmon, this way.”

Dumping your clothes unceremoniously on the floor, you lock the door and drag Billy towards your bed. Wordlessly, the two of you melt into each other. You’d worry about sneaking him out under your parents’ radar later - right now, you had much more pressing concerns.

Word Count: 3374

[fruitsoxs]

hi socks just wanna let u know i have been thinking about those vashwood as roommates headcanons and i always come back to it cz it’s somehow??? so comforting??? 10/10 chef’s kiss thank u!

it's honestly my comfort au-- so here's a part two ! (here's part one)

Having Vash and Wolfwood as roommates would include(part two);;

warnings;; I included some nsfw headcanons this time. they're at the end and have a warning. This also has a bit of fighting/angst that ends in fluff notes: i have a couple of fics in the work for this au. let me know if there any big moments you would like to see written out into a full fic! (also possibly a knives spin off??)

Their jobs/majors

I kind of feel like Vash is studying in the science department. Specifically something that has to do with plant science? Botany, Environmental science, maybe even biology? I know it’s a little on the nose but I really do think it would work perfectly for him

Maybe he even opens up his own little flower shop in the future??

No matter what he has a lot of labs and he is always tired after them.

He probably has a part-time job as a barista at a little cafe on campus

No thoughts just Vash in a cute little apron

He’s a fan favorite among the college kids. They say he makes the best coffee, and he sometimes gives people little freebies when they look sad

His manager Meryl actively yells at him for it, but she doesn’t actually care that much.

He ALWAYS will give you freebies if you come in to visit him. He gets a free drink as an employee, and he’ll save it for you just in case you come in. Sometimes he’ll even take it to go and drop it off for you

Wolfwood gives huge phycology vibes. Mans had a messed up childhood and wants nothing more than to help other people through that stuff

Either that or he’s an art student. I can see that too

He takes school very seriously, but he is horrible at math. He cannot divide to save his life. He’s had to retake his math class like three times

His job? Well nobody knows and at this point everyone is too scared to ask. (He’s a security guard lol)

Whatever it is, he hates it. He comes home grumpy and needs lots of hugs and kisses.

He’ll be all pouty and pissed off, and then you’ll give him a little kiss on the cheek and a small smile will break out 

Bonus; Knives is on the track to becoming a surgeon. I will die on the hill that he is going into the medical field. (he’d look so good in scrubs) and i know McDonalds knives is kind of funny, but I'm thinking he’s actually and EMT. Imagine getting hurt and having Knives be your first responder (id die on the spot)

First Date

It’s not really a date- well you don’t call it a date. Vash just walks in with a couple of free tickets to a haunted house event thing  and asks if you and Wolfwood want to come

You’re like hell yeah

The drive there is like the calm before the storm. You listen to some music, seated in front with wolfwood driving. He definitely has his hand on your thigh. Vash is super excited about finally doing something that isn’t getting high and playing games

You all thought it was gonna be some dumb little spooky house. They’re never that scary. It’s just fun to see all the decorations and actors

Oh boy were you wrong

It’s so well put together. The actors are really into it, and they have amazing make up. When you’re standing in line, some clown girl walks up to Vash and you watch the regret build up on his face. The guy is already terrified

The first hallway is pitch black, and you have to rely on a feeling your way through it. Vash is mumbling about how much he hates it the entire time

Wolfwood is like “Don’t worry guys I’ll protect you.” And then proceeds to let out the loudest scream when the lights come on and there’s a girl dressed up as a ghost standing there

Soon all three of you are huddled up, holding hands, and shaking

These things should not be that scary!!!

It’s Vash who gets you kicked out

He gets so spooked that he runs into a bunch of boxes and knocks one of the fake walls down. The entire thing has to stop to fix it

You’re all banned

After that you go eat pancakes and complain about how scary it was

When things get tense

Fights can happen sometimes

None of you are perfect, and those boys have gone through some shit

Vash tends to shut himself away from you when he’s upset. He doesn’t come out of his room, and when he does he pretends like he’s fine. 

He doesn’t like burdening other people with his problems.

Eventually it just starts to feel like he doesn’t trust you enough to let you in. SIt gets really bad when he tells you to go away one day, and you watch Wolfwood walk into his room 30 minutes later

It doesn’t really turn into a fight. You just get sad, and even a little insecure. So, you avoid him back. Not because you’re vengeful, just because you feel hurt

A few days of the two of you not talking and Vash is in tears by your door

He begs for forgiveness and explains why he’s like this

You tell him it’s okay, but what he does really hurt you. He promises to work on it, and he does

That night the two of you make up for loss time

Wolfwood and you fight a lot more

Most of the time it’s silly little arguments that you solve pretty fast

Wolfwood is bad at communicating in general. But especially when it comes to his feelings

He has really bad days sometimes, and he can get grumpy really fast these days, and one day you really piss him off

He won’t tell you what you did though, he just gives you the cold shoulder

That pisses you off because you’d so be willing to talk it out and apologize, but he won’t tell you what you did 

So you’re mad now too

Things are tense between you too, and it all comes to an end on movie night when you start arguing about what movie to watch

You want to watch one of your favorite movies from your childhood and he says that it’s a stupid movie

Things get heated fast, while Vash just disappears into the background. He that the two of you need to workout your problems on your own (but he really wants to intervene) 

When the tears start falling, Wolfwood immediately stops

He takes a breath, and the two of you sit down and just talk. 

You talk ALL night about what happened, and what the two of you could have done better. In the end, you fall asleep on his chest while he plays with your hair. 

You have movie night the next night to make up for it, and he puts the movie you wanted to watch in before you can even talk about it ( he ends up loving the movie and after that you two watch it all the time)

Id have to make an entire other thing for when Vash and Wolfwood fight because it’s no fun for anyone

NSFW stuff

After the three of you finally get past the awkward stages and start fucking, you find out these two are…horny

They’ll grab you and go to town any time

They really like to share you, but there’s no jealousy in the relationship so it’s okay for one on one time as well!

Wolfwood will pull you into steamy make out sessions whenever. He’ll do it out of nowhere. I imagine he just really likes you, and can’t get enough

He’s very handsy. He’ll constantly have his hand on your hips, or your thigh, and your waist. He likes touching you

He’s the type to sneak risqué touches in public. He like watching you struggle to not let anyone else know what he’s doing

Quickies everywhere with Wolfwood

Vash is a lot more loving (not that Wolfwood isn’t loving– he probably has cried during sex) 

Vash takes his time though. He wants every moment with you to be special. He likes to do stuff like rubbing your back, and peppering kisses down your shoulders. He’ll run his hand up your shirt, and kiss your neck softly. He builds up to it

He really likes shower/bath sex. It’s intimate and relaxing

He also like when you take control (i know he’s a whimperer)

He is so bad at any type of public sex though. He gets embarrassed way too easily (and i think Wolfwood has fun with that) 

When the three of you do it together it’s fucking electric 

[zweetpea]

Freedom or Anarchy? Part 1 of 2 (hopefully)

You guys wanted this you better read it cw: there’s some swears, and allusion to sleep drugs

The air was so crisp, the so grass vibrant, the sun was warm on your skin as you took in the scenery before you. The crystal blue of Starfell lake was gorgeous, and the fish were flipping about in the water; even the squirrels and Crains seemed at peace. Despite this lovely picture you were panicking.

“Heh, POV got sucked into your favorite video game and you don’t know if you’ll ever get home.” you shrug. “Guess I’ll die!” You walk over to a tree and pull on a branch. “I suppose that I should try to defend myself.”

As you say that three pyro slimes appear and chase you down the hill towards Venti’s Statue. “Hehehe, Why are you running? Why are you running?” You walk up to the statue and touch it, but nothing happens. “Wow! Honestly, I thought as a bard you would understand the mentality of “I F’ed my way into this mess, and I’ll F my way out”. Not gonna give me a vision, a shitty knock off of your power, a sword?” As you sat yelling at a lifeless statue (a/n: WTF WERE YOU THINKING? THAT IT WOULD TALK BACK?!) you heard something coming towards you. You looked to the sky and saw Dvalin flying straight toward you. “Oh shit…” You say as storm terror land next to you and rawrs in your face. “Haha, I’m in danger.” He brings his face towards you and you begin to shake  in fear. “Mr. Stark I don’t feel so good.” You whisper to yourself as tears of fear and regret stream down your face. 

Dvalin inches closer and you close your eyes only to feel something cold and wet on your face. You open your eyes only to close them again as Dvalin licks you. “Ew! Slobber!” He whimpered. You hold your hand out to pet the poor baby. “Oh it’s okay. Just let me clean up first.” You wipe off your face and go back to Dvalin. You go to pet him and a beautiful light shines from your fingers and flows through his fur. 

“Dvalin!” Someone called to him and he picked you with his tail and curled it around you so you’d be hidden and sage as he took to the sky. 

“Wait! Wasn’t that Venti? Don’t you like him?” He took to the sky and bounced you around unintentionally. 

After about 20 minutes you were finally released and found yourself in stormterrors lair. “What have you brought back?” A distorted voice echoed as a cryo abyss mage entered. 

“She is the special. She can heal me.” Dvalin responded. (A/n: do you guys remember that? Dvalin spoke) 

“You fool! Only the abyss Order can save you!” 

As the two fight you try to sneak away but you step on a twig and they look at you. Dvalin quickly pulls you by your hoodie back to his side. “I agreed to help you because the Archons abandoned me as they’ve abandoned you. I still will but it doesn’t seem like you all have found a way to cure me. I need to be at full strength to fight for you.” 

“Dvalin? I thought you liked Venti.” 

“Venti, is that what the barn calls himself now? I used to, I know that he cares for me but he didn’t ever try to help me. I have suffered for 500 years and he now shows his face. Khaenri’ah was destroyed simply because they chose to forsake the Archons. Why should we care for them?” 

You looked down, not knowing what to say. “How am I supposed to help?” You finally said.

“You can heal me.” 

“But if I do, you’ll hurt the innocent people of Mondstadt. Listen, the Tsarista is plotting a rebellion against Celestia. Celestia’s the real villain here.”

“Even so the Archons still chose to destroy Khaenri’ah.” 

“Then take it up with them, please. Those people have nothing to do with it. I’ll help you in anyway I can but please for their sake don’t hurt them. If not for them then for me.” 

“If it’s what the adored one desires then I shall deliver it unto you.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked suspiciously. 

“Funny. Now heal him if you REALLY can!” The abyss mage, snarked from the corner. You climbed on top of Dvalin and put your hands on his horn. White light erupted and Dvalin’s head fell to the ground as he’d passed out. You fell off and the abyss mage ran out of the room screaming about how the day of reckoning was upon them or something. You fell asleep nuzzled into Dvalin’s side and dreamt of lots of yummy food. 

When you woke up you found a pyro abyss mage, and hydro abyss mage cooking some kind of fowl meat. Over a makeshift campfire. The pyro abyss mage brings it over to your and the hydro abyss mage hands you the food and some water. “Is this clean?” You ask the two and they nod.  You take the food and water and start to eat. “Thanks.” You say after you’re finished. 

“Dvalin. Do you want to head out somewhere?” 

“Where would you like to go, Adored one?” 

“Would you hate me if I said Dragonspine?” 

“If that’s what you wish.” He picks you up and flies you over there. 

You direct him to a cave in the side of the mountain. 

“Honey! I’m home!” You say as you saunter into the cave. “Albedo? I guess he’s not here.” You say as you turn to leave. 

“Incredible. Stormterror sitting right outside of my Laboratory.” He only roars at the blonde. 

“Sir Albedo?” You inquire as you step out of his lab. You pet Dvalin to put him at ease.

“Hello, may I help you?”

“Sorry I don’t mean to snoop in your lab, I was just wondering if you were here. I have a bit of a conundrum.” 

“You wish to go home.” 

“How did you-” 

“How did I know?” He cuts you off. “I’ll explain in due time. Please step into my laboratory, I’ll get you some tea. Word of advice though, it can get kinda cold out here so you might want to send Stormterror away before he gets cold.” 

Dvalin growled. “I’ll be fine. You can come get me later tonight okay?” He nodded and flew off. It was about noon so you figured that you had a while before the twins would steal the harp and try to take down Dvalin. 

“How did you manage to tame him?” Albedo asked, as you sat on a stool near a campfire. 

“I healed him somehow.” 

“So Gold’s stories were true.” 

“Rhinedottir knows about this?” 

“Yes, she’s the one who told me. Someone would come down from Celestia and they’d tame the beasts of Teyvat as well as the members of the Abyss Order.” He hands you the Tea and you drink it. 

“I still don’t understand how you knew I’m not from here.” 

“I just told you Gold told me you’re from Celestia. Unless of course, you aren’t.” 

“Dvalin referred to me as the Adored One. Do you know what that means?” 

“Adored throughout Teyvat and the realm above. You are the honored one no?” 

“I don’t… what…?” You started to get lightheaded. “Albedo?” You sloshed as you fell off your seat. 

“I’m sorry Adored One, but I have to put Klee first. Now that you’ve heeled Stormterror you’re a threat to the people of Mondstadt. I’m going to hand you over to the knights for terrorism and endangering the public.” 

[cozy-earthbaby]

Crack Fic - 3 of a Soul

Part 1

(A/N - silly little fic start that I don’t know if I’ll keep writing but I think it’s funny! Crossover fic from DC Marvel and Danny Phantom lol. Also my friend’s oc cuz why not? Enjoy)

—

—

For Peter, it was a knife in Doctor Strange's bag.

For Danny, it was an old camera floating in the zone.

For Ro, it was a book in an abandoned bunker.

Next thing any of them knew, the three where floating in a void. Souls connected. Memories shared. A new world awaiting them...

---

---

A new cafe had popped up on the edge of Crime alley. That in itself wasn't strange.

What was strange was that in the month that it was there, nothing had happened to it.

No robbery, no villain attack, no cross-gun fire, no gangs trying to claim it. Nothing.

And it was making the Bats itch.

Tim had done a background check on the place. It was clean. Weird, but clean. It was under the name of three college students. All going to Gotham Tech.

First was the main down payment, done by one Peter Parker. Hier to a Tech company in New York, double majoring in Biology and Enginering, clearly brilliant. A real hometown sweetheart, much like 'Brucie'. Peter Parker was the prince of New York, and his father Tony Stark was the king. Clearly not hurting in the money department due to his father, government weapons contracts did pay well.

Next was a Midwestern boy named Danny Fenton. From 'small town USA', the kids nothing records aside from his school grades and bare bone medical info made him basically a ghost. Only his sister's local Clinic and filed complaints about his parents driving. They're both were freelance engineers, explaining his own choice in majors. Scholarship money with his perfect entrance scores.

Lastly, Aurora 'Ro' Jasimen. Bounced around the country in foster care, online schooling, birth certificate. If Danny was a ghost, Ro didn't exist. In general studies, having a scholarship as well.

Now the question was, how did these three meet, and why did they open a cafe together?

---

The first to check the place out was Tim.

Jason had been not so subtlety dropping hints that the cafe rubbed him the wrong way, and it was getting on his nerves. Their relationship is a lot better than it was at the start, but Jay was a born instigator through and through. Tim decided that he wasn't going to die on this hill and caved pretty early. The background check was weird, but nothing too crazy, but Jay kept pushing. Even Bruce was paying attention now, so that's how Tim wound up standing in front of the infamous cafe.

It was cute shop-townhouse combo, apparently the three lived here as well. The sign out front was simple yet elegant, reading 'Wha Chai Doin?' as the name of the place. The pun made Tim snort. 'Dick would love this place.'

As he entered the shop, the bell on the door announcing his arrival, Tim was hit with the comforting smell of coffee. He was almost taken aback from how homey and cozy the inside was, despite being empty at the moment. It was strange in a city like Gotham.

"Danny! Can you get that for me?" A feminine voice called from somewhere, causing Tim to tense.

'Danny' came out from the back with a lethargic grace Tim couldn't take his eyes off as he approached the counter. 'Danny' was pale, almost sickly, a tad shorter than Tim, with impossibly dark hair and, despite the eye bags, the brightest blue eyes Tim had ever seen. His presence both demanded attention and demanded for one to look away. Tim felt himself freeze as their eyes met, he recognized the look immediately, those where the eyes of a predator. 'Danny' defiantly noticed the hesitation. A lazy grin and a cocked brow rested on his face.

"Hey. How can I help ya?" His voice held mischief, despite the friendly midwestern drawl.

Tim's brain finally caught up. "Hi. Sorry. I'll... Uh, I'll take a medium Death Wish please."

'Danny' looked him over for a moment, lazy grin growing to match the mischief in his voice. "Ya got it," He said as he punched in the order, " Name?"

"T-Tim." The eye contact was making his skin crawl, but he refused to look away. This only seeded to amuse 'Danny' more, the boy sending Tim a wink as he continued.

"Alrighty-Roo! One medium order of Death Wish 'or Tim comin' right up!" 'Danny' announced, rather loudly, to the back, then turned back to Tim without taking his eyes off him. "$4.75, card or cash?"

"Cash." How in the world was Tim going to stake out this place with those terrifying eyes on him. His plan was to get some coffee and work on his computer, he could hang around for an hour or two. But now he wasn't so sure.

"M`kay." His toothy grin was getting dangerous. Teeth almost looking sharp. Fear was growing within him. He had to get out of there. He had to. He--

Not another moment later after Tim got his change, his coffee there ready. Deliverd by an angel. Both He and Danny startled.

A handsome young man with chestnut hair and sweet honey doe eyes brought it out. He was more built than either of them, slightly taller too. His face and eyes were warm and open, a contrast to 'Danny', and his smile friendly. The tension melted away. 'This must be Peter. I can see how he'd charm all of New York. Bet he's a lot like Dick.'

"Here you are! Sorry about Danny, we just got him to stop biting people." His New York accent was strong and playful. The friendly tease caused a snort from Tim and a Dramatic gasp from Danny.

"Petey! 'Att's so unfair! I was just helpin' Ro out!" Danny whined out, flopping onto the other man. "I wasn' doin anything! Swear!" Danny couldn't seem to hold in his own laugh, Peter joined right after. The intimidating aura that was coming from him all but vanished, breaking the illusion of whatever that was. Now Danny just was some attractive, tired, goofy guy, not Tim's newest nightmare.

The lovely laughing that came from Peter and Danny made Tim feel warm. "Right, 'cuz freaking out the customers is 'helping out'. I could Feel the tension from the back. At least he was able to order before you started being weird." Peter flicked Danny's head, earning a groan. Tim couldn't help his smile, the two of them were strangely charming how they acted off each other. An apologetic smile was sent Tim's way. "Sorry again about that. Name's Peter."

"Tim. And don't worry about it. I've lived in Gotham all my life. I don't mind weird." In truth Tim was embarrassed that Danny got to him. He was Red Robin! He worked with Batman for crying out loud.

"Yeah, Sorry. Ya knows what they say about old habits!" Danny smirked to himself as if he told a great joke. Peter just sighed.

"Yes, yes. You're a master of comedy." Peter drily delivered, "come on. Leave the man to his coffee we gotta work."

Danny's protest went unhear as Peter returned to the back.

After a moment, Danny turned back to Tim. "I really am sorry, man. wasn' trin'a freak ya out."

"It's ok. This Is Gotham after all." Tim offered a smile. Danny smiled back a bit tired.

" 'Preciate 'att. Hollar if ya need anything!" And with that, Danny followed after Peter, sending Tim a wink and a smirk before disappearing as well. Tim's face was as hot as his coffee.

Tim got a whole day's work done after that. maybe the place was weird, but it was charming. Even after everything blows over, he thinks that he might just keep coming to the cute cafe at the edge of the Ally.