#as a whole it is...a lot to take in and whoever reads this has my condolences

[clawsextended]

on a note to all: my plotting style is something i like to call i have adhd and if i see you on the dash and have an idea chances are i’ll im you about it. i’m an anxious little dude who isn’t always active in a broad scope, and it’s always been my nature to reach out to people. that doesn’t make me even remotely anxious. not even remotely expected to answer me — i totally get it, sometimes you don’t feel the vibe — but a general psa about how i work. i come from the dinosaur era where the only way to communicate with one another on any level was to directly talk to them and frankly i don’t even know how else you’re ever supposed to plot with a person otherwise. like… how do you write if you never talk????

[sanguineterrain]

Hi Sanne! I'm not sure if requests are open, but if you're up to it I'd like to request red hood x reporter! Maybe reporter reader is getting too close to a case and is starting to become a target and hood takes her protection into his own hands? ((Including lots of midnight rendezvous and rooftop bump ins))

i love this prompt sm! i've been thinking about a reporter reader ever since i read task force z :) thanks for requesting!

jason todd x gn!reporter!reader. tw: reader is attacked (but they're okay), guns, violence, fighting, jason being both a force to be reckoned with and a big softie. 2.5k words

****

"I don't need protection."

The Red Hood crosses his arms. You cross yours right back.

"Yes, you do," he says.

"No, I don't. I've lived in Gotham my whole life. I can take care of myself."

"Living around and being in the thick of violence are very different. You're already chasing this story; they will come after you."

And what a story it is. The story of the decade, at the very least. A task force of formerly-dead Arkham patients wielded against Gotham by a mysterious benefactor.

It's terrifying. It's dangerous. It's sure to win you your first Pulitzer.

And it all means absolutely nothing if the Red Hood keeps wrapping you in red tape.

Your jaw ticks. "This is my story, Hood. You can't turn it in, so I will. And I won't be scared off by some slimeball."

"Oh, please. You wouldn't even have known about this story if it wasn't for me, smarty."

Smarty. His favorite moniker for you because, according to him, you think you know everything.

Working with the Red Hood has been an unfortunate side effect of chasing your prize-winning story. Not only is he wanted in twenty-six countries (you Googled it) and is a ruthless crime lord (supposedly formerly, but you're doubtful), but worst of all, he's got an attitude to match yours.

He's also built like a tank, which is why you can't just. Outrun him.

"I can't just not publish the story," you say.

"I don't want to stop you from publishing the story. Hence the protection."

"I can't afford a bodyguard."

"Well, it's a good thing I already paid my rent this month."

You scoff. "The Gotham Gazette has a strict 'no armed and dangerous' policy. I'm afraid we all have to leave our gun-toting vigilantes at home."

You open the driver's door of your car, ready to end the conversation here and now. Hood calmly closes the door with his hip and leans.

You glare. "Get off of my car."

"Fact." He holds up a finger. "These kinds of people always strike before the story comes out. They know you're scared and stressed, and they wanna do it before the story gets out. Otherwise, it's obvious who killed who."

"And where did you read this fact? Crime Lord's Digest? We don't even know if they know I'm the reporter who broke into the lab."

"Listen, smarty, I've been in this game a lot longer than you. I know how they operate," he says, finally getting off of your car, only to lean on the hood. Jerk. "It's only a matter of time before whoever's behind this snuffs you out."

"I am not letting a wanted criminal nest in my apartment!"

"That's why I'd be there."

"I was talking about you, Hood."

"Funny."

"I'm not joking. Look, I appreciate your... help." You try not to show your exasperation. "But there's no way I'm inviting you over to my apartment. That'll set off more alarms. If anything happens, I'll call you. Until then, stay away. Deal?"

Hood looks you over.

"Hm. You're awfully comfortable with giving me orders, smarty."

Your adrenaline spikes for a second. But it quickly calms. You've worked with Hood for a month now. Sure, you were petrified the first week, but it quickly dissipated. You've fallen into an odd camaraderie with him.

It's actually kind of nice, having him on your side. No one at the Gazette gives you the time of day. You've become used to having a partner. Not that you'd ever tell him that.

"You take orders so well, I can't help but dole them out," you say, only a little smirky.

"Watch it," Hood rumbles, only half-serious. Probably.

You beam and wrench open your car door, sliding into the seat.

"See?" you say, turning the ignition. "No snipers waiting to take me out. I'll be fine."

He shakes his head and slides off the hood. "Ten bucks says they'll try by the end of the week."

You close your door. "You're on."

****

As it turns out, Hood doesn't need the end of the week to earn his tenner. Trouble breaks down your door the very same night.

You're on your couch with some well-earned Lebanese takeout when your door is ripped off of your hinges. You shoot up from the couch, chest immediately tight.

Your assailant is masked and isn't that typical, giving masked men everywhere a bad name.

You run to the kitchen, hoping you can grab a knife. But you're grabbed before you can get there. You slip on the carpet and trip further into your assailant's arms.

"Keep still so I won't make a mess," is all he says.

You start screaming. He covers your mouth and you bite his hand. That earns you a thump on your cheek, so hard your vision blurs.

Bang!

You freeze, expecting the warm drip of blood and the excruciating pain to accompany it. Instead, your assailant falls to the floor, clutching his ribs. You stumble backwards and see Hood at your door, gun still aimed. He stalks over and kicks the assailant in the chest as he does. The assailant groans.

"You okay?"

You're still staring at the man who very nearly killed you a minute ago. Blood roars in your ears. You think you might be close to fainting.

"Hey." Big, gloved hands hold your face. You flinch and hold the owner's wrists. Hood comes into view once more.

"Are you okay?" he asks firmly. "Look at me, look at me, sweet. Breathe. 'S okay. Does anything hurt? Did he—"

Hood cuts himself off as he touches your cheek, where you were hit. He lightly runs a thumb over what is probably a budding bruise.

Hood lets you go and whirls onto your attacker. He hauls him up and presses a gun to his stomach.

"Go ahead, shoot me!" the attacker shouts.

"If I shoot you, it won't be out of mercy. You won't get a quick death. You don't deserve it," Hood snarls, and you suddenly remember all of your good reasons for fearing the Red Hood.

"I ain't telling ya shit!"

"I don't expect you to," Hood says, and fires again.

The man crumples to the ground, but he's clearly still breathing. Still alive. Hood drags him to the door by his collar.

"You go back to your boss. And you tell 'em that they're fucking with the Red Hood now. And, in case I'm not being perfectly fucking clear through all that blood loss—" Hood grabs the man by his hair and wrenches his head back. "If you come for my reporter again, you'll wish I was kind enough to put a bullet in your head."

Hood hauls your attacker outside. You hear a car start a minute later, and it tears down the street.

You look at your guardian angel, spattered in blood.

Not nearly as much blood as I expected, you think manically.

Your body aches and shakes with adrenaline. You can't even get enough control to move to the couch.

"How–how did you get here so fast?" you ask, staring at your now cracked coffee table.

"I've been monitoring your apartment since you got home. One of the traffic cameras picked up a stolen vehicle turning onto your block, so I came here."

You look at Hood. He seems very collected, all things considered.

"You—how did you find my apartment? Have you been stalking me?"

"Please. Lend me a little credit, smarty. I don't need to stalk you to find where you live," he says, holstering his gun.

"Are you insane?!" you burst. "That is such a gross invasion of privacy! What the hell is wrong with you?"

Hood looks at you.

"What's wrong with me is I just saved your life," he says evenly. "And on that note, you owe me ten bucks. Maybe even fifteen, considering it took less than a day for them to do exactly what I said they would."

Your lip wobbles. You don't know what triggers it; maybe it's your scratched up door or torn sofa or the fact that the Red Hood is in your living room right now with blood on his suit.

The tears form quickly. You can't stop them.

You cover your face but a sob claws out of your throat. Soon, you fall into big, heaving cries.

"Whoa, hey." The floorboards creak under Hood's unsure footsteps. "Hey, I didn't mean that. Shit. I was just kidding about the bet part. Aw, don't cry, smarty."

A hand lightly touches your shoulder. You lean in, but don't dare to initiate more contact. So Hood eases you into a side hug, awkwardly patting your other arm. He's extremely warm and solid with muscle, but his chest is soft enough to rest your head on. He unclips his holster so it doesn't dig into your body.

"I was just kidding," Hood says quietly in your ear. He rubs your arm. "'M sorry. Didn't mean to make y'cry."

You sniff and shake your head. "No, it–it's not that, I'm just—God, I'm t-terrified, Hood. What the fuck am I supposed to do now? They're gonna kill me! I'm gonna die before I win my first Pulitzer!"

You try to suck in deep breath but it's not working. Hood leads your unsteady feet to the couch. You sit, fingers gripping his jacket. Hood carefully loosens your grip.

"They're not gonna kill ya, smarty. I won't let 'em. C'mon, let's have a seat. Where's your kitchen?"

You point, lashes still thick with tears. Hood leaves and returns shortly. A glass of water is held to your lips. You drink it, breathing stilted.

"'S okay. Take it easy. Breathe. That's right."

You swallow half of the water, and he sets the glass down on the coffee table. Hood hands you a wad of tissues.

"This is pathetic," you say, wiping your tears. "Can't believe I'm being nursed by the Red Hood."

"I think nursed is a strong word. But it's more than I usually do for my informants. Then again, they don't usually burst into tears."

"Don't make fun of me. I'm fragile."

"I wasn't making fun of you," Hood says, gentler than you've ever heard him. He puts the tissues aside and rests a hand on your shoulder. You turn into it, appreciative of the weight. "You handled this better than most people would. You didn't even pass out. Hell, I've passed out."

You're sure that Hood is leaving out important details behind that anecdote, like fighting off a hundred men or being swallowed by a whale beforehand. You're grateful nonetheless.

You turn to him, fresh tears in your eyes. "They're gonna kill me, Red."

He shakes his head. "No. Listen to me. Nobody is gonna do anything to you, okay? I'm not gonna let 'em hurt you, smarty pie."

"That's an impossible promise," you say. "One of these days, something will happen. You can't be everywhere at once. Especially not while I'm at home."

Hood tilts his head. "Well..."

"Well, what?"

He rubs his throat. An old injury, he'd once told you. The pain flares up sometimes.

"I could call in a favor. Get you into a safehouse."

"You would do that for me?" you ask. You probably shouldn't ask. Shouldn't look a generous vigilante in the mouth. But you can't help it.

"I can't very well publish the story myself, can I?"

You shrug. "I doubt that. You have your ways. Once you have the evidence, you don't need me."

"That's not true," Hood says fiercely. "I do need you."

Your eyes widen. Hood fumbles for a moment.

"That—I mean for the case. Obviously. I don't have any journalistic links besides you. And I wouldn't want the story to fall into the wrong hands."

"Oh." You have a strong urge to wrap your arms around him. Weird. "Well, um, thank you. I appreciate it."

"Don't thank me yet. It'll take me a few days to get the safehouse," he says.

You deflate. "Oh. So I have to stay here until then?"

Hood is quiet for a long time. So long, you briefly revisit your original theory that the Red Hood is actually an AI remotely controlled by a billionaire.

"Hood?"

You reach to touch him. He flinches, a tiny movement. You immediately draw back.

Nope. Still a man.

"Sorry," he says, hand slipping from your shoulder. "I was, uh, going over options. No, your place is toast until we find whoever's behind this. But, um, it would be possible for you to—if you want to, 'cause if you don't, y'know, I understand, but I—it would be doable for you to, uh, stay with me. Until I get the safehouse."

"Stay... in your apartment?"

"'S not far from here. And it's a hell of a lot better protected than your place. And, y'know, I'd be there most of the time, so like..." Hood clears his throat. "Uh, yeah. It'd be safe. I promise."

"I wouldn't want to impose," you say, nervously scratching your arm.

"Mm. If you're scared of staying with me, y'can just say so. I won't take it personal."

He does kind of sound like he's taking it personally.

"No, Hood, it's not that. I don't... I'm not afraid of you. That, uh, went away a while back," you say. "I just... I don't want to burden you. After all, it's your space."

He makes a sound that tells you he's rolling his eyes behind his helmet.

"Saving your life is important, smarty. Why you don't think so, I'll never know."

You make a soft, pleased sound. "Got a real bleeding heart there, Red."

He sighs. "Yeah. I'm working on it."

You grin. "Thank you for rescuing me."

"Part of the job. If you don't wanna stay with me, I could..." Hood hesitates. "With your permission... I could get the Bats involved. Ask one of them to house you."

"You mean Batman?"

Hood grunts. "Preferably anyone but him, but yeah, if it comes to that. He'll probably get involved anyway. Fuckin' busybody."

"The Bats would protect me? But they don't know me."

"Don't matter. If I asked them to, they would. If that's something you want."

You think. Is it something you want?

Sure, any reasonable person would prefer Nightwing or Batman to protect them.

"I don't want to stay with them," you say. "I'd rather stay with you."

He jerks like you've told him the sky is falling.

"You do?" he asks.

"Well, yeah. I know you, Red. And I know you'll keep me safe."

"At any cost," he says.

That simultaneously frightens and thrills you.

"Then I'd like to go home with you," you say. "If you'll have me."

"'Course, smarty. Anything to keep you safe. Go pack some stuff. I'll be out here. You're okay?"

"I'm okay." You stand and turn before he can see what he does to you.

Yes, it's an odd thing, being partners with the Red Hood.

You're starting to fear that you can't have it any other way.

(pt 2)

[vexwerewolf]

I’m suddenly getting swathes of Lancer hate across my feed… Has something happened in the fandom? “Union is ______ how could they paint them as even remotely good. They allow _____, and I hate the devs they are ______. The whole thing is just 40k with communist veneer”.

Like am I taking crazy pills…? I thought that all of the problems were literally like right there on the tin “we are a utopia in progress! We will obtain it by any means possible even if it means being everything we say we are not/fighting against. As the player you decide what is right. How much will you ignore for someone else’s idea of utopia?” Like doesn’t it mean all the tools to actually change are there and that is the HOPE aspect of all of this?

(Sorry if this in incoherent grammar is a weak point and I pulled something in my back simply standing up. Now I am sad and crook backed in spasmodic pain)

This isn't an argument I feel super enthusiastic about stepping into, because it gets the most annoying sort of people in your mentions eager to maliciously misrepresent what you say.

However, yeah, there are some pretty terrible readings of Union floating around. I'd invoke "media literacy" because think that a lot of this comes from people not really holistically engaging with the fictional future history of Lancer, but also from a sort of dogmatic purism that requires future societies to be flawless, else they're irredeemable.

It is important to note that ThirdComm is the direct descendant of two highly imperfect societies. FirstComm was formed as a response to the Three Great Traumas of discovering the Massif Vaults (and thus that they were the inheritors of a fallen world), the wars over the Massif Vaults, and the discovery of the lost colonies, all of which collectively showed humanity how close it had come to total extinction.

FirstComm decided that it had a responsibility to ensure that humanity never risked extinction again. It manifested this by trying to colonize every habitable planet it could find, pumping out ship after ship to seed the cosmos with as much human life as it possibly could. This led to problems when it encountered civilizations like the Karrakin Federation and the Aun, who had been carrying humanity's torch just fine by themselves, thank you very much.

SecComm was an Anthrochauvinist fascist state. The book defines it thusly:

We can see a lot of Anthrochauvinist historical romanticism in the mech naming schemes of Harrison Armory, SSC and IPS-N - the fact that Harrison Armory names its mechs after great military leaders of pre-Fall Earth history, IPS-N does the same with naval figures, and SSC uses the names of Earth animals. Even the GMS Everest is named for a mountain on Earth. It's very Cradle-centric.

Anthrochauvinism was, to be clear, largely just an excuse for colonialism and hegemony. Atrocities could easily be justified under by stating that whoever they're being committed against were a threat to the Continuance of Humanity - a term that SecComm got to define.

It's also at this point that we have to zoom in from broad sociopolitical points to address one very specific piece of history: the New Prosperity Agreement. This was signed to prevent the outbreak of a Second Union-Karrakin War, and mandated that the Karrakin Houses would maintain privileged levels of autonomy within Union, and that they would be granted colonial rights to the entire Dawnline Shore. This agreement, struck in 3007u, basically defines much of the current political situation today.

ThirdComm was a final and inevitable reaction to the atrocities, abuses and excesses of SecComm. The unspeakable horrors of Hercynia were the spark, but I need to stress how little Hercynia actually mattered in the larger Revolution - at the start of NRfaW, it's explicitly stated that almost nobody in the galaxy even knows where it is, let alone what happened there. The Revolution was a generalized response to SecComm's tyranny, with no single rallying cry.

The Revolution might also have failed entirely, but for a critical error by Harrison Armory: pissing off the Karrakin Trade Baronies. After getting kicked off Cradle, the Anthrochauvinist Party organised a fleet at Ras Shamra to try and retake Cradle. Simultaneously, however, they were attempting to secure protectorate agreements to steal worlds in the Dawnline Shore out from under the KTB. Putting these two together and making five, the KTB assumed that the fleet was pointed at Karrakis, and started the First Interest War.

The First Interest War initially favoured the KTB. They smashed the fleet above Ras Shamra and simultaneously conquered the moon of Creighton in the Dawnline Shore. However, they underestimated just how ruthless Harrison I was - he "retook" Creighton by relativistic bombardment, and then conquered four of the 12 worlds of the Dawnline Shore with mechanised chassis, a technology the KTB had not adopted and had no counter for.

To prevent further loss of life, Union was eventually forced to broker a peace agreement that saw Harrison I handing himself over to Union justice in return for Harrison Armory's continued sovereignty, and the KTB joining Union as a full member state.

So, with that historical context out of the way, let me get to the second part of this absurd essay I'm writing.

Third Committee Union isn't a civilization that arose from whole cloth. It's shaped by five thousand years of Union history, six thousand years of post-Fall history, and six thousand years of pre-Fall history before that. It is, ultimately, an extremely well-thought-out and well-worldbuilt fictional polity, in that all of its imperfections come from traceable root causes in its history.

Why does ThirdComm permit the abuses of the KTB? Because to stop them, it would likely have to go to war, and such a war would butcher billions. Worse, to do so, it would probably have to ally with Harrison Armory and make horrific concessions.

Why does ThirdComm permit the expansionism and cryptochauvinism of the Armory? Because to stop them, it would likely have to go to war, and such a war would butcher billions. Worse, to do so, it would probably have to ally with the KTB and make horrific concessions.

Nobody in CentComm likes that Harrison Armory are empire-building expansionists. Nobody in CentComm likes that the KTB has a hereditary nobility and enforces blockades against planets that rebel against it. The problem is that ThirdComm is, in historical terms, still relatively new. They've been around five hundred years, and compared to the 1600 years that SecComm was around and the 2800 years FirstComm existed for, that's not very much.

ThirdComm is attempting to decouple itself from the Cradle-first politics of its predecessor, and to amend the many, many atrocities committed in the name of Humanity. It is not easy to do any of these things. SecComm was defined almost entirely by the fact that if it didn't like what you were doing, it would send in the military as a first response. Every time ThirdComm chooses to do the same, its legitimacy erodes, because the mission of ThirdComm is to prove that diverse, vibrant and compassionate human civilization can exist without devolving into war and bloodshed. ThirdComm always tries diplomacy as a first response because if it doesn't, millions of people could die.

[writers-potion]

Writing Mad Characters

Okay this is a bit awkward because I had this question copypasted into Google Docs I use to draft my answers, and I realized I've lost the question in my inbox (which is being flooded).

So...I'm so sorry for whoever asked this question. Sorry for the delay because I was struggling with life in general for the past month and definitely SORRY for losing your question (－‸ლ)

Q: I'm writing a story where a major character is slowly spiraling into madness where small details kinda hint into the downfall right before the bigger details appear and then it the floodgates open. Is there anything I should avoid? Anything that I should keep in mind? Anything that I should research?

Things to Avoid

“Mad” or “Insane” is too general. Writing a cliched ‘crazy’ character who randomly talks to imaginary people and lashes out at strangers, you’ll offend a whole bunch of people who've gone through/have mental illnesses. Read up on existing mental conditions (schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, post-traumatic disorder and borderline personality disorder, etc.) to see what your character might have. 

Words like “mad” “crazy” or “insane” aren’t enough when you’re describing their status. As mentioned, these words hardly mean much when it comes to providing a clear description.

Contradicting yourself. Throwing random unhinged symptoms here and there wouldn’t work. In fact, you must have a clear arc on which they’re traveling and ensure that your “hints” are all getting at something.

Making the character overly destructive or harmful to others (when nothing really justifies it)

Justifying damaging behavior with this “madness”. Mad or not, your character will still have motives and goals that drive them forward. 

Making them look incompetent just the fact that they have a mental condition that makes them appear “mad” to others shouldn’t prevent them from achieving success. In fact, they may be even more cool-hearted and logical when it comes to their obsessions/goals. 

Research Tips

Narrow down the mental conditions your character experiences. Even if it’s a fictional condition, try basing it on existing ones and building on top of them. 

Take some time to study characters and/or real clinical cases that resemble the kind of madness you’re going for. 

- Anxiety Disorders: excessive fear and dread (ex. phobias) - Mood Disorders: persistent swings in mood or persistent feelings that interfere with daily life (ex. Depression, bipolar) - Psychotic Disorders: disordered thinking (ex. schizophrenia) - Eating Disorders: extreme emotional attitudes toward food (ex. Bulimia, anorexia) - Impulse Disorders: unable to resist urges (ex. Kleptomania, pyromania, gambling) - Personality Disorders: extreme inflexible personality traits (ex. Anti-social disorder, OCPD) - Past Traumatic Stress: persistent, frightening memories leading to emotional numbness 

Does your character have empathy?  

A sociopathic kind of madness is different. 

General Writing Tips for Spiraling into Madness

Establish a Baseline 

A lot of factors (stress, family history, innate personality, trauma, etc.) can contribute to madness, but it is not going to happen in a week. Define the existing mental and physical conditions your character has, and start from there. 

If you’re aiming for suicidal tendencies at the end, you want to start with symptoms of depression (a condition that may lead to suicide) - growing apathetic, erratic sleeping patterns, irritability, etc. 

This is also the stage where you want to plant some triggers that’ll go off later.

Trigger Events

A perfectly sound character suddenly spiraling down the madness route due to a single accident or traumatizing event isn’t convincing. 

A madness “snap” denies the reader the experience of watching the character’s journey into madness and how they feel about it. 

Internal Conflict (antagonist in himself) 

You must remember that madness is incurable. If someone could “cure” themselves by eating healthy, exercising and taking a few pills, it wouldn’t be much of a madness, would it? This means that the worst antagonist is going to be the character themselves, or the part of them that’s been taken away. 

Show how they are frustrated with themselves, scared of themselves, angry at their “alternative self”. The experience of not knowing yourself is a whole journey of its own.

Physical Manifestations/Quirks

If your character has a routine, show how they break down. 

They might develop habits that they otherwise would never allow themselves to have, perhaps as an effort to “keep this madness out”

Deteriorating Relationships

Depict how the character’s madness impacts his closed/loved ones. In the earlier stages, those close to him might be faster to notice and accept the signs of madness, even if the character denies it him/herself.

The first signs of madness might show when the character is trying to deal with difficult relationships - like losing patience and being unable to pick up subtle social clues.

Choosing Obsessions Over Primal Urges 

For these characters, obsession can take over a person’s normal urge to eat, sleep or even live. This can lead to, more or less, suicide. 

Example: In Black Swan, Nina’s obsession with becoming the perfect ballerina drive her to insanity, to the point where she doesn't mind dying on stage for the show.

[addledmongoose]

Best of 2023 Good Omens Fanfiction

This is my list of the 20 best Good Omens fanfiction works I've read in 2023.

A few notes:

These are all complete works; there are no WIPs in the list.

Please feel free to let me know if a link stops working

It's not an ordered list. That would be far too difficult.

You'll probably recognize some of the most popular ones. They're popular for a reason, after all, but I hope you find something you haven't yet read.

The majority are full-length works, but there are definitely some shorter pieces.

These are certainly not the only good works I've read, but they are the ones I'm most likely to read more than once

Click the Keep Reading to see the list

If you're the author of one of these, first off, thank you! But second, if you want me to add your tumblr name to your story, let me know, and I'll edit.

This first section, all the stories are canon-compliant or canon-adjacent. In other words, it's at least somewhat set in the Good Omens universe.

a lighthouse (burning) (108K; Rated M)

This one is canon-adjacent and set in the 19th century. Aziraphale goes to a lighthouse to figure out where all the lighthouse keepers disappeared to, and Crowley follows along. This one is a bit of a spooky mystery along with the romance, and the writing style is simply beautiful. You really get a sense of being trapped in this lighthouse in the middle of nowhere.

***

The Grindr Logo Doesn't Even Have a 'G' In It (79K; Rated E)

It's honestly hard to remember that this one isn't human AU, but they're still just as angelic/demonic as ever. Aziraphale joins Grindr and starts texting (and then sexting) with a charming young man. It's no secret to the reader who this new hookup is. This story is genuinely funny at times. I like the funny ones.

***

The Whole Damned World Seemed Upside Down (103K; Rated M)

This is one of the best reverse omens stories I've read that isn't technically a reverse omens. Crowley wishes things were different after leaving the bookshop, and the universe gives him his wish. He finds himself in a world where Aziraphale hates him, Death has trouble taking lives, and basically everything you knew about the world of Good Omens is upside down. It's very funny. It uses inline footnotes (which is good, because it has a LOT of footnotes), and Death is hilarious.

***

it's a new craze (5K; Rated T)

Another one that seems like it should be human AU but isn't. Crowley and Aziraphale start up a podcast after the Notpocalypse and gain a loyal fanbase who can't figure out if they're a couple or not. They often forget who their audience is and often reference events in their shared history that make no sense to the humans listening.

***

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a demon in possession of a mobile phone, must be in want of attention (6K; Rated G)

And yes, that is the entire title. Another funny short story where a couple of podcast hosts receive a call from a certain angel whose demon trapped himself in his phone and won't leave.

***

In Mixed Company, or the Corporate Retreat of Heaven and Hell (52K; Rated M)

I've read this one at least three times, and it's probably my favorite of all. Every 300 years, Heaven and Hell share a company retreat on Earth during which angels and demons surrender their celestial powers and hold retreats. It has a great new angel friend of Aziraphale's; Hellish Powerpoint presentations; Gabriel being annoyingly chipper; and Aziraphale and Crowley sneaking around like teenagers trying to find some alone time.

***

How To Woo A Demon (24K; Rated T)

Aziraphale researches demonic courtship rituals and starts implementing them in order to convince Crowley he wants to take their relationship to the next level. Crowley is very confused by Aziraphale's actions. Another cute, funny one.

***

Factory Settings (107K; Rated T)

This one is famous for coming out practically as S2 dropped, making people think whoever wrote it (the author is anonymous) had something to do with the production of the show.

This is the only one I'm going to say anything negative about. There are a lot of spelling errors and typos in it. It needs a hard editing pass. Despite that complaint, I devoured this story as fast as I could scroll. It's that good, and even knowing all the errors are there, I'll probably still re-read it. I'm usually pretty picky about errors like that, so for me to overlook it and even recommend it, means I really liked it.

Crowley gets reinstated as the angel, Raphael, with no memory of his time as Crowley, and Aziraphale struggles to return him to his demonic self. It's heart-breaking and wonderful and I absolutely loved it.

***

One Night In Bangor (And the World's Your Oyster) (17K: Rated E)

Much like In Mixed Company, Heaven and Hell come together for a corporate retreat on Earth. In this one, some totally random demon who's name definitely doesn't rhyme with Bowley created a wager in Hell to see which demon could bed an angel first.

Another funny one. This time, a lot of the humor comes from the demons doing their best to pick up the angels with really bad pickup lines.

***

We Only Said Goodbye with Words, I Died A Hundred Times (9K; Rated E)

If I could learn to write even half as good as this, I'd be ecstatic. The emotions the author packs into this story are mind-blowing.

Crowley receives a cursed amulet that creates an ever-increasing need for the person he wants the most and goes to see Aziraphale.

***

To reveal my heart in ink (29K; Rated E)

Aziraphale starts writing letters to Crowley by mail. The letters they exchange slowly get more and more explicit.

***

Pray For Us, Icarus (66K; Rated G/T)

The author wrote this one as a series, so each one varies in chapter count and rating, but they tell a single, contiguous story.

This was the first long-form GO fanfiction I read, and it was way too close to the ending of S2. I really should've waited a while, because holy cow, is this one heartbreaking.

For three hundred years, Crowley has been reincarnated over and over as a human with no memory of his past. Aziraphale has spent those three hundred years trying to restore him to his true self.

The author, Atalan, is probably one of the best writers on the site. This story is stunning in the quality of its writing, in the pacing of the story, and in the emotions evoked. I normally don't like being sad (like I said, I like the funny ones), but I've saved this story off to make sure I always have it.

***

Pretend For Me (53K; Rated E)

In a panic, Aziraphale tells the archangels that he survived hellfire due to his soul mixing with Crowley's because they're in a romantic and sexual relationship, but now they want them to prove it.

I'm a sucker for fake relationship stories, and there aren't a whole lot of them where the characters are still angel/demon, but this one is. It's another fun one, though a bit more angsty than some of those I listed above.

***

The following are all human AU. Good chance you'll recognize all or most of these.

Married At First Sight (147K; Rated T)

One of the most recently completed stories in the list, this is a fake relationship story where Aziraphale and Crowley join a reality show that marries complete strangers off to each other. Their new marriage starts off on a less than idyllic foot and they decide to fake it for the show. The author is a master of making you want to scream "for fuck's sake, just talk to each other, you walnuts!"

Probably one of my favorite fake relationship stories.

***

Postcards From Paris (12K; Rated G)

The author, ghostrat (@mrghostrat), is a fantastic writer of human AU, and it's worth going through his entire backlist (and read his current WIPs, too).

Crowley moves into his Mayfair flat and starts receiving postcards addressed to the previous tenant from one A.Z.F., who is in Europe hunting for bizarre bibles and rating wine. Sweet and fluffy and the perfect antidote if you've just been on an angst binge.

***

Or Be Nice (151K; Rated E)

I stayed up until 6:30 in the morning reading this one, crashed for three hours, then read until I finished it. Then that night, I started it again.

This is, without hesitation, my all-time favorite human AU. It's funny. I love the author's version of the characters, and I will probably end up reading it again in just a few months. I probably already would have if it wasn't for the length of my Mark For Later and Subscription lists.

Crowley and Aziraphale are neighbors who get into a noise war. They both have their reasons for their actions, though to be honest, Crowley is a bit of an ass at first. Once they really start talking, though, they are absolutely wonderful together.

Even if you've never read a human AU, I recommend at least giving this one a try.

***

What We Make Of It (Shotgun Wedding) (213K; Rated E)

This is the third charlottemadison work on this list. 15% of this list is just this one author. That's how good they are.

Aziraphale works as an English teacher. Crowley is the guardian for his nephew, Adam, and works for a school testing company. Crowley can't risk his job dating his nephew's gorgeous and charming teacher. Unless...

Crowley comes up with a crazy plan. Now he just has to convince Aziraphale to go along with it.

Again, another very popular human AU. One thing I love about this story is how there's a lot less angst between the two characters, and how they both really care for Adam.

***

Slow Show (95K; Rated E)

The very first human AU I read. Didn't even think I'd like that specific genre until I read it. Now, as you can see, it's about half of my reading list.

This is an actor AU. Aziraphale (named Avery here) and Crowley are actors working together on a new show. Avery is an award-winning, straight-laced, well-respected actor; Crowley is a mess who immediately falls head-over-heels for him and somehow has to get through the show without letting his (apparently straight) costar realize that.

***

South Downs (76K; Rated E)

Another actor AU. This time, Aziraphale is an openly-gay actor, well-respected for his period drama work. Crowley is a once-blackballed actor who jumps at the chance to star in a gay Regency romance with Aziraphale in the hopes it can restart his career. The trouble is, Crowley is struggling to play the romantic lead opposite a man.

I love the growing friendship between these two as much as the romance. I love how comfortable and confident Aziraphale is here; and how caring he is toward Crowley's growing awareness of his sexuality.

***

This one doesn't really fit either category, so I'm putting it here.

The Rose and the Serpent (56K; Rated M)

By the same author as Pray For Us, Icarus comes a GO retelling of Beauty and the Beast. Aziraphale is sent off by his older brother, Gabriel, into the forest to be held hostage by a giant snake in a cursed castle. Turns out, neither the snake nor the castle are what he was expecting.

Light-hearted and with very memorable characters, the relationship between Crowley and Aziraphale is simply stunning. I love how Newt and Anathema are used here. The quality of this one is as good as Icarus, and I loved this one so much I could easily have read 300K more words.

***

And bonus: mine!

The Beginning of the End (Again) (79K; Rated M)

The first fanfiction I've ever written and the first book I've written in a decade. I had the first two chapters in mind after finishing S2, and the story grew from there. I actually have a sequel in mind after I finish another, separate fake relationship story.

Crowley spends months drowning his sorrows after Aziraphale accepts the Supreme Archangel position, until a group of demons shows up one day and tells him the Second Coming is nearly upon them, and they want him to stop it. Turns out being a demon isn't much fun if there are no humans left to tempt.

Aziraphale has spent these last months in Heaven looking for ways to stop the Second Coming while mourning the way he and Crowley left things. After discovering that Hell's minions have been tasked by the Metatron to escort the son of God on a tour of Earth in preparation for his Second Coming, he hurries down to see what's going on, fearing the worst.

Instead he discovers Crowley escorting the Messiah around Earth. Is his demon taking the son of God on dates?

[amsznn]

can you do a first time with matt? they’re not together yet but really like each other and hang out together a lot kinda vibe. she goes on a date with another guy to get her mind off of matt and when her date tries to take her home with him and have a one night stand, she’s super into it but then freaks out because she doesn’t feel safe and comfortable with the guy. the date kinda gets frustrated with the reader because she “led him on.” so she asks matt to come and pick her up and she breaks down and tells him everything. she explains that she wants that kind of intimacy with someone so bad but she’s embarrassed and has so much trauma that she needs to feel really safe and comfortable with whoever she crosses that line of intimacy with. basically matt asks her if she’s comfortable with him and she asks him to be her first? he’s SO sweet during sex with her, MAJOR praising towards the female and really passionate and intimate. i’m really wanting/envisioning a side of matt during sex that’s very very sweet and comforting, yet a little dominant and sensual at the same time! but definitely gentle with her since it’s her first time and TAKES HIS TIME WITH HER??? like how sweet would that be you know??? BEGGING YOU FOR THIS. 🤍🤍🤍 love your writing :)

NOTHING LIKE YOU - m. sturniolo

warnings: slight cursing, SMUT (don’t read if you’re uncomfortable), p in v, soft dom!matt

A/N: thank you for the request, hopefully i wrote it how you were imagining. again if you want me to fix anything lmk! <3

-

“going somewhere?”

you heard a familiar voice call out behind you. you turned around to see matt, your best friend standing in the doorway as you attempted to zip up the black silk dress you were planning on wearing.

“believe it or not, i am going on a date.” you watched his reaction through your mirror, not sure of what to make of it. but ultimately matt just put on a small smile before making his way towards your figure.

“who’s the lucky guy?” he asked before assisting you in zipping up the dress. you didn’t miss how his hands lingered for more than a few seconds, or how his eyes traveled all the way down your body, admiring you.

you simply shrugged off his question. “ill tell you if it becomes anything serious.” grabbing your purse off your bed side table, you took one final look at your appearance, deeming it was good enough. “i’ll see you later okay? don’t wait up.” you said as you grabbed your house keys.

before you could make your exit, matt swiftly pulled you by the waist, bringing you into a secure hug. “what’s up with you?” you asked amused while circling your arms around his torso.

“call me if you need anything, alright?” matt said while pulling back from the hug, still not ready to let go. maybe your heart stopped for minute, matter of a fact maybe it exploded. from the way matt was looking at you, it was enough to forget about the whole date. but you knew you couldn’t. there was no point on waiting on something that would probably never happen.

“okay matt.” you softly replied before breaking out of his grasp, leaving the house to make your way to your date.

-

so far, your date was going well. to your surprise your date was easy to talk to. he started conversations easily, and listened to you as spoke, which is why it was easy for your mind not to wonder to the brunette you left back at home.

you two had went to a semi-fancy restaurant and were laughing the whole night through. from cracking jokes, to telling one another funny stories, you thought this might just end well for you.

“how about we go back to my place after this?” your date said while paying for his portion of the bill since you insisted on splitting it. you smiled at this while also putting your card down.

“sure, why not?”

-

back at his house things escalated quickly. mere seconds after getting past the front entrance, his hands were all over you.

he held you as you two engaged in a heavy make out session, leading you towards his room, never breaking the contact. your arms unwrapped around his neck before falling back onto his bed. quickly climbing on top of you, he dives down to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses all the way down to your collarbone. you sighed and propped yourself up on your elbows, making yourself more accessible to him.

as his free hand road your dress up, your hands were busy fumbling to get his shirt off, just as eager. he paused for a moment, leaning towards his bedside table to look for a condom. upon finding it, he undid his belt, and pushed his pants and boxers all the way down.

his teeth teared open the condom wrapper, as you watched his every movement. you laid back down, shutting your eyes, trying to brace yourself for what was about to come.

the guy placed his elbows on each side of your head. you could feel the tip slowly prying at your entrance.

shit

shit

shit

“wait, i can’t!” you quickly scooted back to the headboard. the guy looked at you confused, before taking the condom off and pulling his boxers back on.

“what the fuck, you serious?” he asked, eyes scanning your face to see if you were just joking. you adjusted your dress, swinging your legs off the side of the bed. “i’m sorry, im just not ready.” you muttered before finding your panties scattered somewhere on the floor, quickly putting them on you rushed out of the room.

the guy followed suit, yelling accusations at you. “you’re just gonna leave like that!?” he called out after you. you didn’t dare to look back, not even bothering to slip your heels back on, you ran out his house and didn’t stop until you were a couple of blocks down. you collapsed on the sidewalk, quickly pulling out your phone to call your pinned contact.

the phone rang and rang, until finally you could hear matt’s groggy voice on the other side of the phone.

“hey, what’s up?”

“matt, i need you to come get me right now.” you said, trying to compose yourself so he wouldn’t worry. on the other side you listened as matt shuffled around to grab his keys, making his way out the house in an instant.

“i’ll be right there.”

-

matt arrived in less than 15 minutes, since your location was a good distance between his house. he slowed down when he saw you at the side of the road, coming to a complete stop before you fell into the car.

he saw the look on your face. he didn’t need you to tell him, he knew something went wrong.

when you guys made it home, you made your way to matt’s room, not wanting to be alone that night. matt stopped in the kitchen to grab you some snacks before making his way back to your figure laid on the bed.

he shut the door and dimmed the lights, in case they were bothering you. he left the snacks on the table beside your head before laying down next to you.

“wanna talk about it?” matt asked gently. he turned over on his side to face you better. you sighed and ran your palm down your face. tears dropping down the plump of your cheeks. you couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“we almost fucked,” you took a deep breath before continuing. “but i freaked out and ruined everything.” your eyes continued to water before you turned to face matt.

“what’s wrong with me?” your voice broke matt’s heart. to him there was absolutely nothing wrong with you. to him you were perfect, there was nothing that compared to you.

“hey, hey, hey” matt gently caressed your face while wiping your tears with his thumb. “there’s nothing wrong with being scared y/n. you don’t have to be ready right now.”

you let out another frustrated sigh. “but i am ready matt. he just..wasn’t the one i guess.” matt pulled his hand away from your face before looking into your eyes.

“then who is?”

your heart skipped another beat, or maybe two. he’s been right in front of you this whole time. the one you wanted, the one you needed. it was matt.

you shifted on your side before your hand made its way to matt’s neck. you watched his expression, for any sort of discomfort before connecting his lips with yours.

although the feeling of your lips on his brought matt to euphoria, he couldnt bring himself to do this while you were in a state of vulnerability, causing matt to back away from the kiss.

“y/n, are you sure about this?”

“yes matt, im really sure.”

matt smiled before pulling you in for another kiss, instead this one was more passionate, and desperate. your bottom lip hung open as matt took this as an invitation to push his tongue past the entrance. the atmosphere in the room only got thicker as matt shifted his body on top of you. you could feel the bulge in his pants rub against your core which made you whimper into the kiss.

“matt..please.” you gasped into the kiss.

“there’s no rush, baby. it’s just me and you.”

matt’s hands made their way down your body, reaching behind you back to undo the dress and reveal your breast out in display for him. matt dipped down, kissing all along the area, but purposely dodging the place you needed him most.

as matt’s hands went further, you could feel them just above your core. he could feel how wet you were through your panties. he made work to take them off, causing you to shiver from the exposure. you pulled at the hem of matt’s shirt, practically begging him to take it off. he complied, while also pushing his sweatpants, and boxers off. you couldn’t help but tense up, and do the same as before and lay back down to brace yourself.

matt grabbed a condom from his drawer, tearing it open and rolling it down his length. he could sense how tense you were. he gently placed his hand on your waist while looking into your eyes, trying to ease any of your worries away.

“i’ll go slow okay? tell me if you wanna stop.”

you whispered an ‘okay’ in approval. matt lined himself up with your entrance, slowly pushing in. your knuckles almost turned white with how much you were gripping the sheets to the new burning sensation.

“it’s okay angel, i got you.” matt reassured while caressing your face in hopes to calm you down.

matt groaned until he completely bottomed out. staying in place so you could adjust.

“fuck, you’re so tight.” matt breathed out.

you shivered at his words before taking a deep breath before telling matt he could move.

his thrusts were slow, but deep. enough to make you feel every inch of him.

“matt, can you go a bit faster?” you breathed out. matt nodded before propping himself up on his arms, making the snapping of his hips faster.

“oh god, matt!” you moaned out at the newfound pace. you mind was clouded with pleasure and the with the brunette in front of you. you reached up to push matt back down by his neck so your lips could clash against each other once again.

matt moaned against your lips, the clenching off your walls around him was enough to make him explode right then and there.

“you’re doing so good for me, angel.” matt whispered above your ear.

you whimpered, the combination of matt’s pace and the feeling of his lips peppering soft kisses all around caused your head to spin.

“matt, im gonna..” you could barely finished your sentence before matt’s free hand made it’s way to your clit, rubbing circles helping you chase your own high.

“go ahead baby, im right here.” matt mumbled, talking you through your orgasm.

“matt!” you cried out as you felt the knot in your stomach burst, leaving you a shaking mess as matt, also came undone, moaning your name as he rode out his high as well.

“fuck.” matt muttered before pulling out, which earned a shiver from you, still sensitive. matt made his way to the bathroom to clean himself off before coming back in his black sweatpants and a fresh towel for you. he gently cleaned you up, careful as he knew any sudden movement could cause you discomfort. you sat up before grabbing a clean set of matt’s boxers, and one of his sweatpants before collapsing back into bed.

matt did the same, pulling the covers over you two. his arm snaked around your waist, pulling you in closer. “are you okay?” he asked while peppering kisses along your neck.

“i’m amazing.” you chuckled while playing with the hand that held your waste.

“yeah, you really are.”

-

A/N: yall i………..i have no words, i dont usually write smut, I’ve probably written it like once but i decided to try smth new ig. I WAS GIGGLING THE WHOLE TIME. also message me if you wanna be moots, need some more. (need matt rn)

[mypoisonedvine]

𝔞𝔯𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔰 (part I) | frater imperator x reader

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶 | when the newly-appointed head of the clergy decides (or, has it decided for him) that it is time to marry, he neither has time for nor has to worry about the stress of dating... he can just take his pick.

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱 | 5.2k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 | for the series overall: smut (18+ only!!), arranged marriage, extreme religious themes, shy!reader, and lots of pining/slow-ish burn. for this chapter: mention of death and mostly just reader having anxiety... and a hint of my glove kink coming through but that's neither here nor there

this is probably not worth saying when it's already in the title but uh, rite here rite now spoilers. so sorry but it's literally what the fic is based on so I couldn't help it.

Frater Imperator… Frater Imperator…

He couldn’t quite wrap his head around the title, still.  It was a shock already when he first read the letter from his mother— on top of the shock of losing her, which was more than enough— but it still hadn’t quite sunk in.

He was so shocked by the promotion, in fact, that he’d been entirely unable to process the paragraph afterwards:

And please, do as I’ve been asking for quite some time and finally take a wife.  Or husband!  I’m not picky.  But you need someone beside you to keep things in order and keep you in line.

Yes, Copia’s mother had been encouraging him towards marriage for quite some time, even before he knew she was his mother; in some ways, it made more sense once that element came to light, though it did change the tone of her request quite a lot.  It also made him take it much more seriously.

And now, it could be argued that this was basically her dying wish.  He really had no other choice: he couldn’t put off a marriage any longer.

See, he’d never had a problem with the idea of it— he’d always imagined getting married some day, like most people seem to— but he wasn’t the luckiest in love.  A broken heart or two (or five) had convinced him to focus more on his work with the church, and to be fair, no one could deny that the work had paid off.  But, as they say, it gets lonely at the top: and now, he was the leader of the whole church, and he had no prospects or even romantic interests to speak of.

Fortunately, he had realized that because he was the leader, he didn’t need all that: all he had to do was say the word.

~

The announcement spread through the congregation like wildfire: the newly-minted Frater Imperator was going to get married.  The part they neglected to mention— and the part everyone wanted to know the most— was to whom.

There were already plenty of rumors, which you avoided because you felt they were all baseless.  Even within one day you’d heard three different stories about this mysterious future spouse, each more preposterous than the last: that he had a secret lover in the ministry he would wed, that he met a fan at a ritual and swept her off her feet, and that he had some previously unmentioned long-term girlfriend who wasn’t even in the church.

The wedding was less than a week away and all anyone knew was that everyone would be there.

Unfortunately, it was hard to ignore the gossip, even if you weren’t participating in it.  The night when it all began, you were trying to read while several of the other Sisters were giggling amongst themselves over their various theories.  “I wasn’t sure he’d ever marry,” someone admitted, “even though he could probably have anyone he wanted.”

“Not me,” one Sister announced smugly, “I never thought he was all that good-looking.”

“Oh please,” another scoffed incredulously, “you’d be on your knees in a second if you saw him at a ritual.”

“Besides, his looks aren’t the most important thing: this is the head of the clergy.  Whoever he marries is probably going to be spoiled rotten!”

They laughed excitedly, and though you’d been trying to tune it out, you couldn’t help but wonder about it as well.  The announcement had left so much unanswered, but the timing of it seemed too important to ignore.  Perhaps the clergy had forbidden the Papa to marry— you weren’t aware of any rule against it, since to your knowledge none of them had ever tried— and so he’d had to wait until his time was complete to be with the person he loved.  Perhaps it was the death of his mother that triggered it: at best, a renewed desire to find happiness and family when faced with a reminder of mortality; at worst, his mother hadn’t approved of his lover and only now was his final obstacle removed.

Ironically, after all those times you failed to ignore them before, it took the other Sisters several attempts to tear you out of your train of thought now: you blinked quickly and looked up from your book as you realized they were saying your name to get your attention.

“Hm?” you mumbled hazily when you looked at them.

“A message for you,” Sister Agnes informed you, leaning over to hand you a rolled parchment.  You weren’t sure if it was private or not, but everyone was staring at you in anticipation— in fact, you noticed then that their entire conversation had died down to silence— and so you awkwardly unrolled it and read the writing inside.

MESSAGE FROM THE CLERGY:

Frater Imperator and the clergy request your presence in the upper sanctum imminently.

~

As soon as you descended the stairway back to the mail halls of the abbey, a gaggle of Sisters descended on you, wide-eyed and desperate for gossip.  “So?!” Sister Lilith asked expectantly, like the rest of her question should be obvious. “What was it about?”

“Was the whole clergy there?”

“U-uhm, all but Frater,” you replied shyly.

“What did they say?”

“Don’t be silly, ladies,” Sister Agnes scoffed, “it was obviously about the wedding.  What else would there be meetings about today?  They must want her to help in some way: communion, maybe?”

“Ooh!  A bridesmaid!” another in the group suggested excitedly.  “Do you know who he’s marrying?”

“Of course she knows!” someone answered for you.  “Who is it?  I was right, wasn’t I— it’s someone in the church!”

“Well… yes, I know who it is,” you mumbled, “but I… I’m not sure I’m permitted to speak on it.”

That was a lie, but you were too busy trying to process it all yourself to share it with anyone.

“Just tell us,” they begged.  “You won’t get in trouble!”

“The wedding’s only a few days away,” Sister Lilith pointed out, “so there’s no point in it being a secret now— and if I’m right about who it is, Sister Magdalena owes me a fifty.”

“I’m sure you didn’t guess it,” you promised her.

But the questions just kept coming: “It is a woman, though, right?” “Is it someone you know?  Wait, is it someone we know?” “

You realized that if you didn’t tell them now, they would either figure it out soon or be entirely blindsided at the ceremony.  Not to mention that if you refused to answer their questions, they’d just keep grilling you until they got something.  Your voice was actually quite feeble in that moment, not loud or strong enough to cut through all that chatter— but your words were enough to stop every question being thrown at you in its tracks.

“It’s me.”

You waited for them to react, but for a moment, they didn’t.

“I was asked to— to take the position,” you specified, putting it as vaguely as possible.  I’m going to marry Frater Imperator was just as true but was just as hard to say as it was to wrap your head around.

They erupted into a variety of reactions, all of which at least had some element of shock involved.  “I had no idea you were so close!” Sister Agnes exclaimed.

“We’ve… never even spoken…” you shyly replied, and the excitement quickly died down.  You weren't offended by their quizzical stares; if anything, it was a relief to see some of them looking as confused as you felt.

Why did he choose her? you caught a few whispers in the back of the group.  They're strangers? What makes her so special, then?

You wish you knew the answers to those questions.

That night as you laid in bed, you couldn’t do anything but replay the clergy meeting in your mind.  You’d felt so small across the table from all of them; you had no idea air could feel so heavy and stiff, matching the tense energy as you waited for them to explain why you’d been summoned.  As it all happened, you thought you would never forget every detail— but already you were losing your memory of what was said in what order, when exactly you realized you weren’t in trouble, how long it took you to believe what you were hearing.

Should we not court first?  Or have a meeting, maybe? You had suggested.  Frater does not feel it is necessary, a clergyman firmly replied.

And he’s not here now, because… you trailed off.

We all feel you should make this decision privately— in case his presence would sway you one way or another, a high Sister answered.

You could see the logic in that, and appreciated the concern for your uncoerced consent… except, of course, that this was an offer already impossible to say no to.  They’d successfully convinced you that you wouldn't be punished for turning down the proposal, but the marriage itself had already been announced: if you rejected the offer, someone else would surely take your place.  And for some reason, though the idea of going through with this terrified you, passing it up sounded even worse.  Even just imagining another woman taking her place at his side… why did it bother you so much? 

Because you will take your husband's title, but will not have decision-making power over the clergy, your title from henceforth shall be Sister Imperator Consortia.

It had a ring to it, but it didn’t feel like you— at least not yet.  It felt too… formal, too important.  Generally, people don’t join a convent and put on a habit because they’re intent on standing out, Satanic or not.

You told yourself that you needed to rest while you could, you had a busy week ahead starting with a dress fitting first thing tomorrow.  But still, you hardly got a moment of sleep that first night; part of you thought if you shut your eyes long enough, you would wake up to learn this had all been some bizarre dream.

You couldn’t decide, though, if you’d be relieved or heartbroken if you awoke.

~

In some ways, the wedding mass was quite similar to how you’d always pictured yours would be… except for the attendance.  You were sure you’d never met this many people in your life!  Even tonight, you wouldn’t be able to meet them all!

But, of course, this was the social event of the year, if not decade, for any church member or Satanist: it only made sense that there were throngs of people not only in the church but outside, waiting to see the new couple.

As you looked at yourself in the mirror, face obscured by the black veil, your eyes widened with the thought that you might be basically the Kate Middleton of Satanism in this moment…

Trading your opaque veil for one of lace, your loose and simple dress for a form-fitting and extravagant one made of dark red silk and sporting an over-the-top train, you wondered if you were going to be swallowed up by all this overwhelming intricacy, all this… pomp.

Taking a shaky breath, you tried not to imagine that everyone else watching you walk down the aisle would agree with you that you were horribly out of place.  You wished you’d had a chance to understand why you were chosen— to even just meet the high Frater, but the clergy had insisted several times that he was too busy with his new duties and planning the wedding.  Yes, your fiance was too busy planning your wedding to speak to you.  It was all horrifically ironic, and irritating.  So, as you turned and stepped out of the bridal suite, taking your bouquet of Dahlias from one of the Sisters assisting you, you thought to yourself if nothing else, at least I’ll get to finally try to understand all this by the end of the night.

The doors to the main hall opened for you, and there was no turning back.

It was a massive room, with easily a thousand people between you and the altar, but the very first thing your eyes fell on was Copia all the way at the other end of the aisle: the all black suit was no surprise, yet even from so far his white eye stood out prominently, and it was fixed on you.

Walking down the aisle took quite some time— you’d been reminded to take slow steps, as if you were just going to break into a sprint or something.  You tried to keep your eyes ahead, and ignore all the eyes on you: people seated on the furthest ends of the pews leaned and stood on their tiptoes to try to get a glimpse, but between all the encouraging smiles you caught an occasional glare of disapproval… it seemed plenty of your siblings were jealous of or disappointed by you one way or another.

Adjusting your clammy hands slightly, you realized you were unintentionally holding a concerningly tight grip on the Dahlia stems and the ribbon they were wrapped with; that said, you were very thankful for something you do with your hands.

Your heart was pounding by the time you reached the front of the hall, where the priest, the clergy, and your betrothed waited for you at the altar.  A Sister took your bouquet away to free your hands just as you passed the front row, and when you looked forward again there were only a few carpeted steps between you and… everything.

Copia surprised you by reaching forward— at first you weren’t sure what he meant by it, until you realized and quickly took his hand, letting him guide you up the stairs.  He was wearing those leather gloves you hardly ever saw him without, but even still, it was the first time you’d ever touched him; was his hand shaking?  You couldn’t tell, yet it almost felt like it.  Not to say that his grip wasn’t a strange sort of comfort in that moment; as he helped you up the stairs, you felt yourself relaxing slightly, despite being far from over with the hardest parts of this.

The first few minutes were just a matter of standing and waiting while the priest spoke: you wish you could say you remembered a damn word of it, he must’ve said something about love or marriages or… you know, all that.  Whatever it was, you were relieved when it was over and you could move on to the communion and prayer— the more familiar parts, and the parts where you got to kneel.  You were actually amazed that your legs hadn’t been noticeably wobbly so far, but they definitely could use a break.

In the time that your head was meant to be bowed in your prayer, you carefully opened your eyes and turned your head— just enough to take a peek at him quickly.  Well, your intention was to be quick about it, but once you started looking, you became distracted rather easily.  It was just that you'd never seen him so up close, you were sure: you'd never noticed the slope of his nose before, or how long his eyelashes were, or the shape of his lips in this profile—

Suddenly, as if he sensed your stare somehow, his eyes popped open and glanced over to return it.  He gave you a half smirk as your eyes widened and you snapped your gaze back down to your clasped hands.

“...and may they be joined in unholy matrimony for all eternity,” the priest ended his prayer: “Nema.”

“Nema,” you and Copia and the rest of the congregation replied.

The penultimate step of the ceremony was the exchanging of the rings, which were extended towards you both on a little velvet pillow— it was actually kind of adorable, you thought.

You figured he might take his gloves off for you to put the ring on, but it was apparently designed to fit around them; alternately, you had to suppress a startled reaction to your own ring as he gently placed it on your finger.  It was a massive ruby surrounded with onyx and black diamonds, intricate and completely unsubtle.  You knew Copia had expensive taste, and it was certainly in keeping with such a lavish wedding, but you wondered if it would look entirely out of place on you for daily wear.

I’ll wear this ring every day, forever, you reminded yourself; you breathed out shakily as his hands held yours so tenderly for one more moment after your ring was in place.

And then there was only one thing left.  The thing you’d been preparing yourself for since this morning— or perhaps since that fateful meeting with the clergy: the kiss.

It felt pretty melodramatic with him lifting your veil over your head, and it felt surreal to be in the part of this that you’d been imagining in hopes of preparing yourself.  Of course, it was a little different than how you’d pictured it, most of all the look on his face: it was subtle, but he didn’t seem as serious or muted as you were used to.  It wasn’t like he was grinning or anything— that would’ve actually been sort of creepy— but there was a small smile on his face.

You heard the priest say something about husband and wife but you weren’t paying attention, it all sounded distant somehow.  And maybe you sort of psyched yourself up for this moment too much— maybe you wanted to get the wedding over with, maybe you were afraid if you didn’t commit fully that you’d end up instinctively backing away when he came closer and you’d both be humiliated in front of all these people.

There were other possible explanations for what you did, but for whatever reason, you all but threw yourself onto him and kissed him.

It only lasted for a few seconds, but that moment may as well have been frozen in time; it took him a second to react, his hands settling near your waist— and it took the crowd a moment too, but they began to clap and cheer for you both at some point.

Truthfully, you weren’t thinking much about how it felt to kiss him… you couldn’t, really, without losing focus on the point of all this.  You weren’t here to have a nice kiss or meet someone you might like— you were here to serve a purpose, to fill a role.  And that’s not to say you weren’t grateful, but you weren’t going to let yourself be distracted from your duty to the church.

You backed away as suddenly as you’d latched onto him, and when you opened your eyes after scrunching them shut during the kiss, you saw him looking at you with a bit of shock in his expression.  Only then did you wince to yourself and wonder, was that too much?

He took your hand and turned to face the congregation, so you followed suit of course, and as he smiled and waved at them politely you were a little surprised to see them all standing and applauding.  It definitely felt like a bigger crowd from this side of the cathedral…

You were almost frozen for a second, until you felt his hand guiding you down— he was already on the first step down, so you quickly picked up your skirt and followed him.  You had wondered before if you would feel different walking back down the aisle with him, compared to when you processed on it alone.  You weren’t sure if you really felt married or something— what would that even feel like?— but you did feel different.

You felt better, actually— relieved, happier, you even caught yourself smiling at the crowd, but it was hard not to with how… energetic they were.  Despite not really knowing what to do with all that attention, you at least appreciated it, though it surely had little to do with you.  They were cheering for him because he’s Copia— Frater, the former Papa, heir of the Emeritus bloodline— and they were only cheering for you because you’re his wife.

And no, just because you understood that logically didn’t mean it felt at all real yet.

Frater Imperator and Sister Imperator Consortia! you could hear the announcement echoing through the hall, though it was distant compared to the claps and hollers.  You dared one glance at him by your side, thinking it might be easier than looking at this massive crowd around you, and found him already smiling at you; and with a warmth beginning to spread on your face, you let him guide you out of the doors, into the rest of the church submerged in nightfall. 

~

After a crowded spectacle like that, the quiet of his chambers was quite a relief.  So much so, actually, that it dampened some of that eerie, anxious feeling of being alone with Copia in his bedroom; it wasn’t quite as spacious as you would’ve assumed someone with his level of importance would have, but the ornate and luxurious furniture made perfect sense.

You were so caught up in taking it all in, almost entranced by the beauty all around you, that when he spoke it slightly startled you. 

“That kiss,” he said suddenly.  “Wow.”

It was just that his voice sounded so different like this: no microphone, no massive chapel, just one small room with stone walls.  There was a brief pause as he ran his gloved hand over his hair, blowing air quickly out of his mouth, and you realized you should probably respond somehow: for some reason, your mind struggled to accept that he was speaking to you directly.  “I’m sorry if I was too forward, I just—”

“No!  No, not at all,” he laughed thinly, “no, you did very well.  I’m sure today was… overwhelming for you.”

It felt good to just hear him confirm that: up until now, everyone in the clergy had been sort of acting like this was normal, never really acknowledging (let alone validating) your stress.

“If it’s any comfort, it was for me, too.  And I’ve had a lot more experience with large crowds than you,” he added.

You smiled a little; “Yes, that’s true— but it must be different here, at home.”

“Mm,” he nodded, pondering that for a second.  “It is.  But it’s preferable in some ways, too— like now, being able to come back to my own space.”

You envied that a bit; you were likely never to return to your chambers across the building, and while you didn’t necessarily enjoy sharing that space with a dozen other Sisters, it was probably easier than sharing a bed with just one man.

Before you could get a little too caught up in that train of thought, he spoke again.  “I can’t believe I haven’t already told you how exquisite you look in your dress,” he offered.

“O-oh, thank you,” you hummed, “I’m very fortunate, it’s a beautiful gown.”

“Of course it is, I picked it out,” he informed you proudly.  “I have excellent taste, no?”

“You do,” you agreed with a small laugh.

“And you liked the ceremony, I hope?”

“Yes, Papa,” you answered dutifully.  “I-I mean, Frater.”

“Force of habit,” he noticed, “literally.  But, I'm not Frater to you anymore, I'm your husband.”

That certainly made your heart skip a beat, even though you couldn’t imagine you had forgotten it in the last ten minutes.  “So what should I call you, then?” 

“Well, just my name should do,” he laughed slightly, seeming a bit surprised by the question.  “Spouses call each other pet names from time to time, would you like that?”

You might have been able to think about that idea more clearly if his hand wasn't on your waist, petting along the curve of it absent-mindedly.  “I… don't know,” you admitted, “I’ve never really tried it.”

“It will come naturally, I suppose,” he shrugged.

“So, it is a proper marriage then,” you realized.

“Hm?” 

You wondered if you shouldn’t have said it aloud.  “I-I just mean, I wasn’t sure at first… if maybe it was all political, you know,” you admitted.  “A marriage for show, not necessarily of a personal nature, I guess.”

“If it were political, I would have been paired up with someone from another church, I imagine,” he explained, one of his eyebrows raising.  “Did you think I chose you randomly?”

It felt pretty fucking random, you wanted to say, but that would have been a little bit harsh.  Instead, you sat down on the edge of the bed (which was only a little cumbersome with your dress) and he copied you, sitting just a few feet away.  “I’m so honored you chose me, Copia,” you began, feeling a little odd about using his name so casually, “but I just… I can’t imagine why.”

“The clergy asked me the same thing,” he recalled, “but they weren’t satisfied with my answer— I’m sure you won’t be, either.”

“Try me,” you encouraged.

“Well… I saw you once,” he explained slowly, “in a Mass— I gave you communion, do you remember that?”

“O-oh, yes, I think you’ve served me the elements a few times.”

“This was the first time,” he assured, “I know, because I thought to myself she must be new, if I’d seen her before I would’ve remembered it.”

You tried not to smile too wide, but you couldn't help some reaction.  You never imagined you'd left such an impression on him.

“You looked up at me, and you just looked so sweet… I couldn’t get the image out of my mind, you on your knees before me…”

You crossed your legs tightly.  “I mean, I remember that too, of course.  But it’s because it was the first time I saw you in your papal robes— I was just one of hundreds, I didn’t even know you could tell us apart.”

“Well, you stood out to me— maybe it was fate, eh?” he smirked.  But he was the head of the clergy, the most important man in the church: he made his own fate.

“And that’s it?” you realized sheepishly.  “You thought I was pretty, or something, a few years ago and so you married me?”

“Not pretty, no— pretty is cheap, cara mia.  You were enchanting.”

Was this flattery?  It seemed too perfect to be totally genuine, but hell, he was smooth.  

“I thought of you often,” he admitted, moving closer to you, “I imagined if I might have you to myself someday… and now I do.”

His gloved hand rested on your shoulder before carefully moving up to the back of your neck; he guided you towards him, slowly and patiently, looking into your eyes for a moment but taking longer to look at your lips. 

You swallowed nervously once before letting your eyes fall shut.

The kiss was soft at first, but grew more intense with every moment; he breathed a little heavier through his nose and you could feel it against your face.

His arms wrapped around you, and it should've felt nice, like a loving embrace; it sort of did, it just also started to make you feel claustrophobic, forcing you to fight the urge to squirm out of his grasp.

You wanted to give into it, you wanted to let yourself melt into his arms… but as he held you tighter and kissed you harder, your heart started to race in a way that wasn’t pleasant anymore.

Pulling back and pushing against him, you broke away and hoped he wouldn’t be angry with you or hurt by your rejection.  Fortunately, he let you move back as soon as you tried, and looked at you with an expression more of surprise than frustration.

“W-wait, I—” you mumbled nervously, willing your hands not to shake with nervousness.  “It’s not that I don’t— we’ve only just— I do find you attractive, but—”

“We don’t know each other very well,” he finished for you.  “It's alright, you seemed nervous already.”

“Yes,” you sighed, smiling with relief.  “I just thought… maybe we could get to know each other better first, before we…”

“I didn't expect you to be so shy,” he noticed with a soft laugh.  You were keeping close watch on his tone and, from what you could tell, he thankfully didn't sound too disappointed.

“I-I’m usually not,” you assured, “maybe compared to some other Sisters…”

“Well, that's a low bar,” he noted with a raised brow, “but anyhow, it doesn't bother me.  I'm happy to wait until you're… more comfortable.”

You smiled a little, glancing away briefly.  “Thank you,” you began, barely managing to stop yourself from calling him by a title again.

“I just hope you'll stay in my bed tonight— it's your bed, too, you know.  Nothing else has to happen.”

“Of course,” you smiled, “I'd like that.” 

He nodded shortly at you and moved as if he was going to get up, but you opened your mouth impulsively to speak— even if nothing came out right away— and he stopped.

“But, um— you could kiss me again,” you suggested quickly, before you lost the nerve.  He smiled, with a certain sparkle in his eyes that made you squirm slightly against the bed.

His hand brushed under your chin gently, lifting your face until you were forced to look right up at him.  “If it would please you,” he returned with a purr.

Swallowing thickly, you nodded; “Yes,” you insisted softly.

This kiss was slower, but no less intoxicating: he touched you like you were the most fragile thing, and the movements of his lips seemed to gently guide your own.  You heard yourself sigh against him, and his thumb started to pet your jawline tenderly.

You remembered that moment clearer now, the one he described to you before. Taking communion from him, kneeling under him, waiting with an open mouth for him to deliver the mana to your tongue… the cool golden chalice against your lip and the bittersweet wine…

His other hand delicately landed on your lower back, and you opened your mouth wider, letting his tongue graze against yours.

When he pulled back, you found yourself leaning forward just for a second, chasing him for more.  And he obviously noticed, it was clear from the way he smiled down at you.  You wondered if he would indulge your desire for more— for a second, you imagined he might decide that you were more ready than you'd let on and take you right then and there.  A little brutish, yes, but the idea tickled a certain corner of your brain.

But, no, he sat up straight and let out a short breath.  “I'll get ready for bed,” he announced.  “You should too— you've had a long day.”

You nodded back; “Yes, Papa,” you returned compulsively once again.  “Damn it!”

“It seems you have a lot of new things to get used to,” he laughed.

More than you know, you thought to yourself as he walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind him.

[shirefantasies]

Hey! Recently finished LotR for the first time and just wanted to thank you for sharing so much amazing writing with the fandom!

I was wondering, after reading the how many children they’d like hcs, if you’d be comfortable writing some characters(personally requesting Legolas and Eowyn, but whoever you’d wish of course!) meeting their(/them and their partner’s if they already have children ofc) firstborn!

Either way! Tysm for reading and have an amazing day!!

Forgot I had one more finished draft lmao sorry everyone🤙🏻 here's one more post

Bro OF COURSE I love doing parent AU stuff!!! This is such a cute imagine omg. Also thanks for the kind words & welcome to the fandom 🥰 consider this part 2 of the pregnancy headcanons~

Warnings: some descriptions/mentions of childbirth/labor pain/blood (not too graphic though!)

LoTR Characters Meeting Your First Child Together (Wife!Reader)

Aragorn

Concern paints your husband's handsome features, furrowing his dark brow and glittering deeply in his blue eyes at your sudden, frantic motions. You are too quiet, too focused. Hiding something, perhaps? "What troubles you?" Aragorn asks, moving to your side, a hand caressing your shoulder as he breathes your name. Eyes widening, you start for a moment before deflating in a sigh. "I think the baby is coming. But I did not wish to worry you until I was certain, until I had more prepared and-" Saying your name, this time a little more firmly and a lot more lovingly, Aragorn takes your hand. "Worry me? Cast all your worries upon me. I am your husband. My heart is yours, and my service. Come, we will go to the healing halls at once."

~

Aragorn smooths your hair, wincing as you cry out and calmly whispering encouragement. He quiets you down as the pain and stress wash over you in nearly blinding waves, your body writhing with each push. Hours pass like this, Aragorn your one anchor until finally, blessedly, your body can fall limp against your sickbed and pant and sigh in relief, the babe proclaimed healthy and taken to be soothed and cleaned. "What a marvel. Truly you prove strength beyond measure every day. Beyond that, I simply love you more every day," he adds with a smile. Leaning up to kiss him, you fix your husband with tired eyes, loving gaze broken only by the midwives' calls. "My king," they say, "a son was born to you! The prince of Gondor!" "A son," you repeat, finally breaking back into a grin as you accept your little boy. Aragorn looks down upon him too with as wide a smile, greeting him in Elvish. "My son," he says, "how loved you are, and how blessed are we your parents. May you grow strong, healthy, happy, our little gift."

Legolas

Even as far as you had gotten, an unspoken fear had crept up between you and your husband until the very day of your labor, but your twins held fast. Such a thought echoed through your mind as much as you could bear to will it between the waves of pain. They held fast, and so would you, your husband at your side stroking your head and holding your hand, whispering calming words in the language of his people. Through tears, you smiled at the beautiful sound, at Legolas's constant reminders that you are strong, you are the most amazing gift the prince has born witness to in hundreds of years. He reminded you to look into his eyes as you were urged to push harder, your hips burning like never before...

~

"A son. A son and a daughter,” Legolas breathed, pulling you and both your twins into a gentle embrace. “And my wife. What more could I desire? Nothing. Nothing indeed.” You feel moisture, realize a tear has slid from Legolas’s eye to your hand, and reaching up you dry his eye before bringing your hand down to stroke the side of his face. You can feel the bags of exhaustion circling your eyes and your whole body aches, but all you can do is smile, smile until your face is just as sore; with your aching pleasure glowing throughout you nuzzle the babe in your arms, your son. “Our dreams are finally reality, Legolas. I would ask for no more either.”

Boromir

"What for it? What can I do?" Boromir is less calm than you expected at your sudden pain, the downward rush you can only assume is the baby coming. Not that you have told him that already. "Let us go to the healers." You try to steady your breathing, praying your water will hold out and break only upon entry to the home of the dear friend you'd selected to aid in your birth. Grateful are you for the grasp of your husband’s hand and the strength with which his arm raises you, tugging you against him for support, even if you feel his heart racing like mad when your hand falls against his chest.

~

For hours you toiled, your body rent and torn in creative horror as Boromir tried his best with jokes and sweet words to keep your wits about you… for far shorter hours than usual in your friend’s words. “I find that hard to believe,” you panted as she cleaned the child. “No, truly that was quite amazing,” your friend shot back, stepping back your way with a bundle in her hands, “We’ve had them take twenty hours before. Five is quite fast I daresay.” Every orifice in your body cried out with pain, so all you could do was incline your head until you raised it again, saw the child in her outstretched arms and felt your lips part in amazement. Eyes still closed, your child groped for you, stilling a bit in satisfaction upon your acceptance, feeling the weight fall and rest gently upon your chest. “Impatient little man and with some fire too! He fought against cleaning quite well.” “Little man?” Boromir’s head snapped so rapidly up to your friend and back to your baby you thought he might snap something. “We have a son?” “Indeed you do, you old dog, you,” she grinned. “It’s a boy!” He shouted gleefully, one hand resting firmly between your son’s and the other cupping your cheek and yanking your lips to smash against his. When Boromir pulled away, he laughed aloud, hearty and triumphant. “Bless him and bless you for giving him to me! I never knew I could be this happy, love!” Your smile widened to match his grin. Suddenly your pain didn’t seem quite so bad.

Gimli

“Push! Push!” “Am I not?!” You reply, uncaring of the raise of your voice or the vice of your hand about your husband’s. For his part and quite in spite of himself, Gimli must laugh, for such was the fire that stole his heart some time ago and the fire from which your newest love was forged- though not without some trouble first. Chip off the ol’ block, indeed! “That’s it, that’s it,” the healer encouraged, “yer doin’ great, lassie!” “Doesn’t feel like it!” Even as he winces in pain by your iron grip, Gimli chuckles again.

~

“A healthy little lad!” Six more hours have passed, but finally he’s in hand and you won’t give him up for anything. Except Gimli- he is the only one to survive your death glares when he reaches for your son, and pushing some hair off his shoulder he gently extends his arms further when you acquiesce. His lips part in an o of endearment and shock at your son, crying moments ago but now laying peacefully in his father's arms. Breaking into a wide smile, Gimli stares down with moist eyes and it is like time is frozen. “My son,” he half-declares, half-sobs. His gaze tears from the babe after a minute or two only to meet yours and bring a wide, triumphant smile to his face. "And most importantly, son of the fairest this earth has yet set forth, she who gave herself that he should be here. You did wonderful, my love. Thank you." "Thank you for being his father," you reply, "and for loving me through it all, even when I was quite ugly about it." "Ah..." Gimli replies diplomatically, "you were in a great deal of pain." Of course he forgives you, he worships the ground you walk on, after all, and you have just gifted him the honor of a son, a little flame all his own! And who, the dwarf suspects with another smile, shall look a lot like his father too!

Frodo

Frodo walked you all the way to the bed and laid you down by himself before he would finally relinquish any care of you to the midwife, despite the fact that he had selected her. You knew it was borne of no distrust of her, however, only a sign of the immense care in his heart he felt for you and the sum of all the kindnesses done upon Frodo in his most difficult years. When you love someone, after all, you carry them up a mountain. You lay them down and take their hand and kiss their forehead, telling them you will never leave them in their greatest pain. Just as your husband now did, just as he spoke upon cradling you close, grip only tightening as you cried out in pain.

~

"You're doing so well," Frodo encouraged during your last pushes, stroking your sweat-beaded forehead, "This is almost over." Indeed it was, for minutes later your final whimper broke Frodo's heart, sending spikes of dread shooting down his spine until a new set of cries stopped them cold. "She's here," the midwife tells you, standing up and fetching the cloths she'd dunked earlier. "A girl," Frodo breathes, "A little girl!" "Our little girl," you agree, reaching out to accept the tiny babe. Frodo's heart melts at her now-calmed face, the way her tiny eyelids flutter and the spray of tiny dark curls already visible on her head. "Hello there," he whispers, "my beautiful little girl. Never did I think my heart could give any more, and yet here it is, doubly taken."

Sam

"What's wrong? You look a little peaky. Here, why don't we-" "Sam, I'm fine. I just think I twisted my- hngh!" Crumpling in half with a grunt of pain you cannot even complete your sentence. Sam is rushing to your side, taking your hand and leading you back to your shared bedroom. "Shh, shh, it's going to be ok, you'll see. I'll get the midwife and she'll know everything to do, alright?" Sam's green eyes are warm as ever, his tone the sweetest and most soothing thing you've ever heard and ever will. Despite the waves of pain and the gush you begin to feel soaking the sheets around you, you find yourself nodding and willing up a faint smile.

~

"You're a strong lass, aren't you?" The midwife remarks as Sam returns to the room with more boiled water, looking at you with wonder in her pale blue eyes. Panting, you manage to reply that you suppose so with a faint smile of amusement before being wracked with the pain of another contraction. The only thing that keeps you going is the way your husband is there, leaving only to help you both before tumbling back against the bedframe to grip your hand, never once losing his smile even as you crushed the life out of him. It feels like a lifetime and yet no time before cries fill the room, your head immediately whipping to Sam's and meeting the tears spiling from his kind, loving eyes. "You did it," he whispers your name with awe, kissing your head, then your cheeks sweetly and softly again and again until the midwife is ready with your bundle of joy. "She's beautiful," the older hobbit comments, handing your baby off to you and beaming as you pull your daughter into your chest, loosening her swaddle enough to see her peaceful face. "Lovely," Sam replies, tone even more awed now despite its faint sob, "she looks like her mother. Her mother who worked so hard. Look, she has your hair." "She sure does," you agree, "but I hope she got your eyes." "Nah," he shook his head, "that can be the next one. I love that she's the spitting image. You've earned it after all that, I fear." You laugh at that, still smiling down at your daughter's face, which is still red and calming from her cries of alarm. "That I have. But the only reason I could at all was because of you, Sam." Tears falling anew, he shakes his head one more time. "The thanks are all yours. I knew you could do it all along. It's 'cause of you we have our little beauty."

Merry

"Come on, come on, that's it," Merry coaxed, lowering you down into the squatting position you'd asked for. Inside he was screaming bloody murder, but it was no good letting you know that, not when he had a duty to do and the most important one at that. No indeed, courage was far beyond necessary. Just as he'd had on the battlefield, he was to have with you. For you. Merry only could thank his lucky stars that you began your labor at home while he was there. Once you'd gotten settled, he reluctantly began to pull away his hand from yours, face falling at the way your fingers trembled. "I'm just going to get help. I'll come right back for you." "I know," you whispered with a smile, and just as it had been broken Merry's heart was up and skipping beats.

~

What a good sport the midwife was, for she had been in the middle of her afternoon tea when Merry found her, but never had he seen a napkin thrown down so fast. She rushed with him back to you and found you there still squatting and wincing, this time with sweat beading upon your brow. For hours there you remained, flanked on both sides by husband and midwife, until suddenly your skirts were lifted even further and the lady was calling "He's out!" You cried out in pain and relief and Merry just laughed and gave a big smile before remembering you, looking down at you with great concern. At that, you gave a chuckle of your own. "Sounds like we have a son, Merry." "We have a-" "Certainly you do and quite a big one! Here, you can hold him if you like, but not after the missus has a turn," the midwife cut in, laying your son in your arms. Merry's jaw positively dropped at the sight of him, and he leaned down to speak at once. "Hello there, little one. It's me, your dad. You remember the sound of my voice, don't you?"

Pippin

“Pippin, it’s time.” “Time? Time for what?” You loved your sweet, wonderful, clueless husband, but now was simply not the time. “The baby is coming! Get my supplies, please.” Your command came out as more of a whimper, your face twisting into a grimace at the feeling of moisture trickling down your leg. Water’s broken, then. Pippin caught sight of this, paled, and tore off down the hall, a crash sounding and a handful of stomps before he emerged again, bag slung over his shoulder and a pile of rags in one hand. "You know, for your..." "Yes, I know," you nodded, smiling in faint amusement as he took hold of your arm, barely giving you any time to straddle the rags at all.

~

"Push!" "What am I doing, then?" Your reply shattered Pippin, for it dripped with no sarcasm, only broken tears as you struggled with the pains of labor. The midwife shed a tear of her own, promising you did well, but this went on for hours until suddenly, finally, cries pierced the room's tense air and a massive smile spread across Pippin's face. "You did it!" A loud, triumphant laugh. "You did it, my love!" "She sure did," the midwife agreed, handing the babe off to another older hobbit and chuckling at the way Pippin's open hands followed them. "Don't worry your head off, he's just getting cleaned up." "He? It's a boy! Love, it's a-" "I heard," you grinned, "A little mini-Pippin. Just what I always wanted." "Are- are you joking?" "No," you shook your head, accepting your son with open, grabbing hands, "Not at all. Oh, look, he really does look just like you, too! Oh, Pippin!" Another little Pippin. This time hopefully not one who'll make the same mistakes. No. No, he won't, because he'll have the big one to guide him. And you, oh, his lovely wife... "Pip, are you crying?" "Of course I am," he replied in a quiet, awe-filled voice, leaning to press his curly head to yours, "Our son. Yours and mine. What a glorious gift you've given me. I'm going to work every day to pay you back."

Faramir

Faramir would have given anything to escape the meeting he had become entrenched in, the droning on about some law or another that- Slam! A messenger came bursting in through the door, one of the young page boys whom Faramir had sent notes off with. Rather than pass a message, though, the young man strode right over to his seat and leaned in to whisper to him. Feeling his face contort in shock, then a smile, Faramir rose from the chair at once. “My apologies, gentleman, but my wife has gone into labor. I will review all notes taken at my earliest convenience.” So it seemed the twins inherited their mother’s sense of humor.

~

Watching you strain and hearing your ragged breaths, listening to every cry of pain, stabbed Faramir in the heart with a hurt of his own. He never let go of your hand for a moment, though, despite the ache in those muscles as well. For hours he whispered you words of encouragement, reminding you that you were his hero and that you were doing great, even if it didn’t feel such. And finally your grip was tightening one final time, one final cry of pain as the second twin was born. First your daughter had come. “A girl!” Faramir breathed. “We have a daughter.” And with that last push Faramir himself caught your son. “A son as well. Two beautiful children.” Tears welled up in his eyes, which quickly turned to you as your son was cut free, lifted from his arms, and cleaned. Thumb stroking over the back of your hand, Faramir leaned over, head resting against yours. His stubble tickled your face as he shifted to press a kiss to your cheek. “We got the most difficult one out of our way first, hm?” You joked. Breaking into a tearful grin at your words, Faramir nodded.

Eomer

He should never have agreed to ride out on that patrol, but the others were pushing harder than usual and Eomer knew they trusted him. Trust went far in the Riddermark. Hence his shouts of frustration upon returning to a herald rushing his way and telling him that you had gone into labor. Luckily only about an hour and a half back. He had plenty of time. Running to the halls of healing and all but throwing open the great doors, Eomer barreled in and was met with your smile, then your cry for him, to which he ran to your side and took your hand at once.

~

"It's a boy," he panted hours later, hand aching from your grip and mind fatigued by pained screams, "our son is here." How in this world could you have endured it all if it drained even a bystander so? What a warrior you were. And what a warrior your son would be! Taking in the cleaned babe being placed in your arms, the enamored smile upon his beloved wife's face, the great rush of joy finally overtook him, all pain and exhaustion melting away for a brief moment. "Our son is here!" He called out again, this time louder, more triumphant, and when you spoke it also in your softer tone Eomer pulled you gently by the back of your head into a kiss that spoke volumes, every year of your love story thus far and all of them to come.

Eowyn

The pains of birth were no stranger to your wife; in fact, Eowyn recognized them before you did, cutting into your panic that something was going wrong with the reassurance that things were going quite right. “Our baby is coming,” she told you with a small smile that quickly faded back down when your knees buckled. She was prepared for this, very prepared. Having been forced into work as a nurse for so long had some benefits, after all, and very quickly your things were in hand, your body settled into the most comfortable position possible, and your wife rolling up her sleeves and pulling back her hair to get to work. Her own child would not be the first she had delivered, simply her favorite by far. Spikes of pressure fought their way up Eowyn’s chest, but just like in the heat of battle they spurred her on and she got to work with renewed courage.

~

“You are doing so well, my love, there we are,” your wife coaxed, “almost done, in fact! Our little one is almost here!” “Really?” You smile widely before your next wince and Eowyn can see her words have encouraged you. You pushed with all you had, and crying out finally forced the head, then finally the whole of your child, out into the world. Eowyn cut the baby free quickly as she could, all her focus tied down to making sure she heard breath before she let herself truly look. At the first call of little lungs she sighed and collapsed down upon her knees, hugging the baby to her chest. “Healthy, perfectly healthy.” Hurriedly cleaning your child, Eowyn saw that you had delivered a girl. “You’ve birthed a healthy girl. We have a daughter, my love!” Hearing you sob, she hurried quickly over to your side. “We both did,” you told her, reaching out to caress your daughter’s reddened cheeks, “Both her mothers birthed her. Where would I be, after all, without you?” It was Eowyn’s turn for tears to fall at your words, smiling as she was when you pulled her close and kissed the crown of her golden head.

Haldir

Long, difficult months had led to the moment of your doubling over with the first pains of birth, hobbling out to where you could find a hand to lead you to the midwives. You were half-knelt at the side of a bed, gripping its post for dear life, when your husband burst in. “Your patrol,” you inquired between waves of pain. “Safely in the hands of another,” Haldir responded, hand groping for one of yours, hastily taking it, “and no, they blame neither of us. Nothing but the pain of death could have separated me from your side.” A smile crossed your face, but moments later another wave of pain split your smile into a cry of agony. “The little ones are coming very rapidly,” one of the midwives told you, “your labor will not be long, at the very least.” At that, you heard Haldir exhale in relief. After such difficultly carrying them, your struggles with the twins would soon abate. Soon they would be in your arms.

~

True to her word, the midwife saw you through every push of labor in just under three hours’ time, one of the fastest she had seen in her many years. Haldir’s grip upon your hand never faltered until the very moment one of the twins was placed wrapped up in his arms. The other held by you, exhausted, shocked, but joyous, tears of relief and celebration flowing. “Two daughters. Two fair and healthy little souls all our own,” Haldir remarked, his voice barely above a whisper and a stunned smile upon his lips as he glanced back your way. The moment your eyes met, tears fell from his, too, and you both let out another exhale in relief; shifting the little one in his arms, Haldir grasped your hand. Smiling up at your husband, despite every strain of pain and exhaustion upon your body, all you could feel was the glow of utter triumph and bliss. “I have said it countless times, I am sure, but you my fair maids have my sword, my word, my heart, my everything,” Haldir told you, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on your head, then that of the baby girl in your arms.

Galadriel

How Galadriel managed to remain so calm amidst your heaving breaths and calls of alarm, amidst a healer and midwives forgetting their place and trying to move her from your side, surrounded by bodies and screams and heat and fluid so serene, you would never understand. The way you’d doubled over in the middle of your wife’s vision, failing to smother the choked cry that escaped your lips, and she’d simply risen from the water with wide eyes and a nod, taking your hand. Had she let go? Not as you could recall, though memories blended and faded through great waving curtains of pain. Your strength is beyond admirable, my love. Head swiveling to meet your wife’s intense blue gaze, you smiled faintly. Comparable only to your beauty, her voice teased in your mind. Smile growing, the rush of joy gave you strength for another push…

~

“A daughter,” Galadriel breathes your name, joy permeating every faint crack of her so even voice, “you have borne us a daughter!” You see her extend a hand, accept a cloth you assume shall dry your little one off, but the midwife swipes your newborn for a moment and your wife dabs your tears, then the sweat clinging to your forehead. Setting the small piece of white fabric on the table by your head, Galadriel lets her hand drop down to trace the curve of your cheek, the ring you placed upon her finger some years back on your wedding day sliding over it with a pleasant cool. Your daughter, clean and swaddled, is placed in your arms, and beaming down upon you, your wife takes your hand. “A beautiful gift unlike any this world has seen,” she speaks out loud this time, though it is a whisper, “and surely with a heart as strong as her mother’s.”

Arwen

Pain rushed to you so rapidly it was as though you were stabbed. Crumpling and crying out was how your wife found you, rushing in with skirts held at her sides and dropped just as quickly so Arwen’s hands could close around both of yours, words of worry followed by encouragement whispered between you. Her father was the greatest healer you knew, thus he was to aid in his grandchild’s birth, the first of his family. Elrond was calm when through the veil of your pain you saw your wife bring him into the room, brows faintly furrowed as he pulled back his sleeves. Your hearing practically faded- or was it simply your memory?- as he began giving quiet but firm commands to another elf that followed.

~

Vision blurred with tears, you fell back against the downy pillow, breathing ragged. Much as Lord Elrond could do for you, the pain was still great. "The cord is severed!" You heard him announce and your head snapped back up to see your son in his grandfather's arms, hear him wail as breath filled his lungs. "Our little boy," Arwen grips your arm, grinning down at you, "He is here! Go on, Ada, keep us waiting no longer." Shaking his head at her teasing, Elrond gave you a wide, tearful smile as he lowered your son. Smoothing his dark hair, Arwen gazed down at him with loving eyes before leaning over to you, kissing your lips with such love and joy both of you were smiling into it. "My dearest love, he is so beautiful. Just like his mother."

Elrond

"My lord, your wife-" Lindir needn't say more. Elrond is already gathering up his robes and abandoning entirely the parapet on which he stood, regretting leaving you for a moment even if you had insisted he take some time while you rest. Hurrying down the staircase to your shared room, Elrond finds you sitting bolt upright in bed, brows furrowed and hand resting upon your middle. "I must get to the-" "No," calm as he is, Elrond seems to have developed a habit of interruptions, he thinks, "the midwife will come to you. Lindir?" "Sending for her now, my lord." At Elrond's side, you whimper. All too well does he remember this anguish; nodding, he presses a kiss to the top of your head. "Lie still. You will be well."

~

Thank the Valar for healing magic; soon your screams melt into whispers shared between you and your husband and winces become faint, tired smiles. Elrond feels the strain of each push upon you, but marvels at your strength, the midwife all but telling you to slow down. "I beg your pardon," you reply, gritting your teeth, "but I must be free of this!" And free you are, for not long later cries fill the air and tears of relief and joy spill down your cheeks. Elrond caresses your face and meets your eyes with a tearful smile; never does this moment stale, in fact nothing in this world can compare. As soon as the bundle is placed in your hands, you hold your newborn out between you, Elrond taking hold and reaching out his other hand, which your daughter grasps. "She looks just like her mother," he tells you with a smile. "But hopefully she inherited her father's wisdom," you tease back with a tired grin.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @kilibaggins @filiswingman @ibabblealot @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @letmelickyoureyeballs @mossyskinn @wordbunch @tiny-and-witchy @th3-st4r-gur1 @fleurdemiel-145 @mistresskayla-blog1 @misabelle717 | Reply/Message/Ask to join 🩷

[pink-sparkly-witch]

Tequila

Summary: Tequila has a lot to answer for when Y/N wakes up naked in Dean’s bed, but once the shock wears off, she realises that maybe it’s not such a bad thing.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Rating: Teen

Warnings: alcohol consumption, mentions of smut, angst, fluff, feelings, friends to lovers

Word Count: 1k

A/N: Another December Drabble for you all to enjoy!

My Masterlist     AO3    Ko-Fi

Consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite, or leaving a comment. It really does fuel a creative’s muse. If you’re too shy or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and you don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM 💖

The sun streams through the motel’s threadbare curtains, rudely awakening you from a deep, drunken sleep. Your head is pounding, and there’s a ringing in your ears that comes with the vague memory of the loud music playing at the bar last night.

It’d been a hard hunt to stomach: Lamia, a child-eating demon, had decided to take up residence in Grangeville, Idaho, and once you’d blasted her ass back to hell, you and Dean really, really needed to let off a lot of steam.

Luckily, there was a dive bar next door to the motel, so neither of you had to stay sober enough to drive home, and you’d both been well and truly shit-faced. You’d hustled a small fortune playing pool; he’d sung karaoke, and there were tequila shots… lots and lots of tequila shots.

A snore from behind you made you freeze. It sounded like Dean, but that couldn’t be right. Why would you and Dean be in the same bed? Whoever it was rolled over and slid their arm over your waist, pulling you into their body. You could feel something hard poke the back of your thigh… at least he’s packing, you thought before the mystery man spoke.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” Suddenly, the whole night’s events come flooding back to you at once.

One tequila shot turned into two. Two turned to four. Four turned to six, and before you knew it, you were stumbling through the door to Dean’s room, lips attached to his, nails raking through his hair and over his scalp and neck, tongues dancing a passionate tango while your clothes flew in every direction.

Dean made love to you so deliciously good. He was sweet and gentle at times. Rough and hard when you needed it. In all the years you’d known him, this was the first time you’d ended up in his bed, yet he knew your body better than you did. 

The green-eyed hunter had known how to pleasure you better than anyone had before him. Touching places no one had ever touched before. Taking you higher than you’d ever been, making you scream his name so loud the occupant next door had banged the wall.

It’s overwhelming, and you can feel last night’s alcohol swirl dangerously in your stomach, threatening to make an appearance. You lifted the covers and glanced down. Yep, definitely naked.

Pulling the sheet tighter to your body, you cautiously turn around, your worst fear confirmed as Dean’s twinkling green orbs and cocky smirk greet you.

“Well, this changes things!” he grins, and you can’t decide if you want to punch his painfully beautiful face or kiss him.

“Oh, God!” you gasp, covering your face with your hands. “This can’t be happening.”

“Y/N?” Dean asks, concern evident in his voice. “You okay?”

“I can’t believe I did you—I mean that. I can’t believe I did that,” you mumble.

“Come on, don’t be like that! We had a great time. I got you off six times, sweetheart! That’s a personal record for me!”

Dean’s words are meant to be comforting, but they do the opposite and only embarrass you more. The urge to kiss him is gone, leaving you wanting to punch his painfully beautiful, smug face.

“Seriously, Y/N, are you okay? Did I hurt you in any way? Did you not want that to happen? Because I gotta say, you were all over me at the bar, and I get that we had a lot of tequila and were drunk, but I thought you wanted me, too?”

Now that Dean had put his cocky persona aside and the real Dean was in the room, you’d changed your mind again and wanted to kiss him.

“No, Dean. I wanted it to happen. I have for an embarrassingly long time. What I don’t want is to be just another notch on your bedpost. It’s why I’ve never given in to your very persuasive charms over the years. Because I want to be more than just one night to you. And I know that’s not what you want—”

“Woah, Y/N, slow down!” Dean shot up on the bed and turned you to face him. “Did you not hear me when I said this changes things? Do you honestly think I’d risk what we have for one night? I’ve wanted you since the day we met, and last night was the first time since we met that you’ve shown any interest in me. And sweetheart, I haven’t been shy in pulling out my best moves for you.” His words and body language are so expressive and genuine, and you know he’s not feeding you a line. He likes you and he’s wanted you for a long time. All of his flirting and come-ons were real.

“And I thought ‘this is it. I finally get to call her my girl’. Maybe I shouldn’t have followed through with it when we were drunk, but I don’t regret taking my chance with you. Please tell me you don’t regret what happened.” Dean cups your cheeks to keep your gaze on his. The pain crossing his features breaks your heart. You want to tell him you feel the same way, but it’s risky.

“Honestly, I don’t remember much from last night, just bits and pieces, but I know enough to know that if that happened, I wanted it to happen,” you say, trying to ignore the look of Dean’s disappointment at your lack of memory from the night before.

“Do you really want me?” you ask, terrified this was a tequila-induced dream.

“Since the day I met you. And if you’re interested, I’d like to see where we’d go. Together. As a couple.” For once, Dean looks incredibly shy and vulnerable, making your heart swell.

“I’d like that too, De,” you smile, giggling when he grins boyishly.

“Yeah?” he checks, and you nod.

“Yeah,” you confirm.

“Then, I think you should lay back and let me refresh your memory of last night,” Dean grins as he gently pushes you back down on the mattress and pulls your legs apart.

Tags: @acitygrownwillow @akshi8278 @ashbatz @candy-coated-misery0731 @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @deansbbyx @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @jamerlynn @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @leigh70 @lyarr24 @michecolegate @mrsjenniferwinchester @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @nelachu2423 @octoberclidan @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnbaby-67 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @suckitands33 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567 @winchestergirl1720

[rodolfoparras]

we talk a lot about the characters being "loser boyfailures" and having no game and being rizless but think about the reader being that. guy in his thirties, no relationship ever, negative riz, absolutely no game, my man cannot speak to people without making 13 grammatical mistakes just an absolute pathetic wet dog vibes....

and the 141 boys could not want him more. they're absolutely head over heels for their loser boyfriend. i imagine Simon sees him bump into a chair and apologise to it and he's jumping his bones right then and there. pretty boy Kyle Gaz Garrick never goes anywhere without bringing his wet dog of a man with him. people are wondering how that happened and if he's blackmailing him, he gets very offended and sassy on his boyfriends behalf and when you're back home he rants to him about stupid people while milking his loser dick. Soap is just.... he's just himself the bigger the loser the more he wants the man. his boyfriend fucks up an interraction or fails at something and looks so wet and pathetic that he just has to put his dick in his mouth idk what to say Soap loves his loser boyfriends cock and when he tries and riz him up and falls flat on his face (literally and metaphorically) Soap just has to have him cream his hole im sorry but the man isn't letting his boyfriend go anywhere without having his mans loads in him. Price just loves him for the sincerity and how endearing his loser boyfriend is (just like an old man). the boyfriend will bring him coffee with a treat he tried making for Price and fuck up both the coffee and the treat but that old man will still praise you and give you kisses while his hand wanders bellow your waistband. with him Price gets to get rid of the anxiety of being too old to be useful because someone needs to make his boyfriend into a proper man. and when his boy does things right and suceeds Price rewards him by riding his phat loser cock for the whole night, milking load after load untill nothing comes out anymore

thanks for listening to the ramble i just want some love to the losers of society, there's too many perfect people in fics

Sugar!!!!!!! This is one of my favorite things I’ve ever read why do y’all leave these masterpieces in my inbox on anon you should post this sugar 🧎🏻‍♂️🧎🏻‍♂️

Especially the gaz and price part???

Imagine all eyes on Gaz in whatever room he walks in they barley notice you behind him but he’s always got a hand around your waist, gently nudging you forward and introducing you as his boyfriend to whoever’s there

He lets you take the stage just endearingly staring at you while you try to make conversation with whoever was eager to meet the two of you

And after you’re done you got a goofy smile on your face feeling happy that you managed to get through that conversation without fucking it up

And Gaz? He’s swiftly pulling you into a room crashing his lips against yours and it doesn’t take much before he’s riding your cock marking you up and feeling all possessive because yes this wonderful sweetheart is his boyfriend and he needs the world to know that

Or you, Price’s boyfriend feeling a bit insecure because Price has so much experience and you have none but he loves it, loves how you look at his old man body with such amazement love how eager you are to learn how to get him off, tears trickling down your cheek as you suck his cock, using your hands wherever your mouth can’t reach

Or you being careful as ever when you first fuck, asking him if he’s okay, if you’re hurting him all while he’s looking at you with the biggest smile on his face because bloody hell how did he get so lucky to have someone as sweet as you and he’s even more endeared when you’re swiftly apologizing because you came too quickly

[simp-ly-writes]

The Comment Section (pt.3)

─────── · · A Social Media AU Fic

Pairing: Spencer Agnew x gn!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: The drama continues and eventually cascades into other youtube comment sections. At this point, you and Spencer have no choice but to speak up.

─ · · TAGS: gender-neutral pronouns, jealous!Spencer, angst, attempt at comedy, more angst, light swearing, fluff, mutual pinning, irl celebrities.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | PART TWO | PART 3.5 | PART FOUR

─ · · A/N: I hope you all are having as much fun reading this as I am writing this! :D

EDIT: sorry, just noticed a sentence didn't save near the end: fixed it now!

─────── · ·

Smosh Live: (name) is going to Hollywood with Celebrity Guests Glen and Sydney!

Smosh Pit ✓ [Subscribed] Like 132k | Dislike | ... 8.29M subscribers 1.43M views 5 days ago #10 on trending (name) and their new costars act out your stories. click to read more

2,983 Comments

username27 5 days ago WHOEVER IS ON SMOSH PR NEEDS TO GET FIRED RIGHT NOW. DO THEY NOT READ THE COMMENTS OR CHAT!!??? username49 5 days ago Never in my wildest dreams would I think this collab would happen!!! username66 5 days ago ALEX I LOVE YOU. username01 1 day ago Stay strong (youshipname) shippers! We will not falter to ANY Hollywood Heartthrobs! Spencer come get your man/woman! username35 30 minutes ago (edited) I have no idea who these people are but they make (name) sound a lot funnier! Edit: this sounds way worse than I imagined. username14 3 days ago Okay, I am a major Glen x Sydney shipper but that chemistry with (name) has me looking the other direction... username33 just now So obvious that people did not watch the whole stream. Spencer ended up dropping off more material for them to read and he just stands there, hands gripping the papers, eyes fixed on the couch and then leaves as if nothing happened BEFORE Alex came in and "fixed" it. ▼ 100 replies ↳ username66 just now HOLY SHIT! This makes it even better RAHHHHHH> * [this comment has been flagged for interfering with Youtube's Community Guidelines; for more information press HERE] ↳ username51 just now Jealous Spencer was not on my Smosh 2024 Bingo Card. ↳ username08 just now (edited) I have been reading wayyy to many romance novels but I was screaming at my screen for them to kiss at that moment. *correction for Spencer and (name) to kiss you weirdos!! ↳ username17 just now God I love how Alex just picks up their arm and then walks back off with a thumbs up towards the camera. When you know- you know~

username20 1 hour ago (name) if you ever read this, can you please not take their offer and go out with Sydney? You and Spencer belong together, period. username51 just now That smirk Sydney sent to the couch has my knees weak, how did everyone else act so normal?!?!? username40 just now So proud of you (name)! no one deserves this opportunity more than you, I have been following your work for years now; will be there opening night for sure!

─────── · ·

We took (name) from Smosh

Rom-Com Interviews Plus ✓ [Subscribe] Like 10k | Dislike | ... 10.1M subscribers 2.4M views 4 days ago your favorite two actors interview (name) from Smosh on their upcoming film together. get all the details and find out when and where you can get tickets for the release! click to read more

7,003 Comments

username79 4 days ago Another Glen and Sydney rom-com? count me in!!! username01 4 days ago OVER MY DEAD FUCKING BODY YOU DID NOT STEAL THEE (name) FROM SMOSH, FROM MY BOY SPENCER. ▼ 34 replies ↳ username08 4 days ago @ spennser!!! Be a director and fix this! We are sick of it! ↳ username87 3 days ago Okay but (name) is their own person outside of work??? Like there is little he can do if they don't want to talk... ↳ username20 1 hour ago Well... with the amount of threats on Twitter and across all Smosh socials now... I think they have little choice now, people are LIVID (me included). ↳ username87 just now But what in the para-social bullshit is this guys? Like c'mon, who gives a damn if they are dating or not- they are ACTORS! It's their literal job to have chemistry on screen ↳ username33 just now Ummm, actually! Spencer and (name) were seen together long before they both were on camera. Sure, they both have some experience with performance work but the hundreds of photos of them spending time outside of work. [Ex. vacations, pet-sitting, and dining out]. Tell us that is not just a performance!! ↳ username33 just now OH AND don't even get me started about the "similar" shirts and hoodies they "both" have... ↳ username33 just now Also... @ spennser!!! @ spennser!!! @ spennser!!! @ spennser!!! RESPOND NOW. username49 2 days ago Great video! Can't wait to see (name) taking the next step in their career; a youtuber in a blockbuster movie- never thought it would happen! Keep up the great content! username51 1 hour ago What is with the Smosh community? Like who knew they were so toxic. Stay away from Glen and Sydney- they did nothing to you!! username19 30 minutes ago This is all getting out of hand now, like- downright ridiculous. What the Hell is going on at Smosh that has it spreading to other channels? username74 30 minutes ago Great interview! Don't know who this (name) person is but its great that they did so much charity work outside the office Rom-Com Interviews Plus ✓ just now Hello everyone, we have read through the enormous amount of feedback you have provided us and we will not be changing the title of this video. To clarify to those who might have skipped through some parts, (name) is NOT leaving Smosh but are going to be the co-star in Glen and Sydneys newest film together, coming out this holiday season! (name) is still very much content in their current position at Smosh and we here at Rom-Com kindly ask for all of our fans, the actors fans, and the fans of Smosh to allow everyone their privacy and to not further engage with hostility. ▼ 2 replies ↳ spennser just now Like hell they were leaving Smosh. * [this comment has been deleted on request of the user] ↳ username01 just now I saw that sir!!

─────── · ·

BREAKING: (name) seen in the background of Spencers recent stream!!

(Yourshipname) Updates [Subscribe] Like | Dislike | ... 1.12K subscribers 500k views 2 days ago click to expand

500 Comments

username01 just now I AM NOT FREAKING OUT- YOU ARE, OKAY?!>!>? cough, cough... ermm, I mean... it does awfully look a lot like them... username77 2 days ago Does not look like (name), has to be another friend, girlfriend maybe? sister? username04 1 day ago (edited) On twitter, Smosh Cast just tweeted that Spencer and (name) are scheduled for this weeks talk- makes me hopeful! ▼ 5 replies ↳ username01 1 day ago OMG REALLY?? ↳ username11 4 hours ago Can someone confirm this? ↳ username17 30 minutes ago Its real. Check it out: twitter.com/smoshcast12345. ↳ username11 just now Thank you! Sent from my iphone. ↳ username14 just now If this is not a video of them making out for a full hour then I am not accepting the apology. My heart has hurt too much BC of these two idiots.

─────── · ·

Every Apology... Ever.

Smosh Cast ✓ [Subscribed] Like 128k | Dislike | ... 582K subscribers 488k views 2 days ago #7 on trending (name) and Spencer swear this is the only apology video they're ever going to have to make. click to read more

3,421 Comments

⚲ Pinned by Creator SmoshCast ✓ 2 days ago Hi everyone, Spencer and (name) here. For those who don't have time to watch the full episode today. Please note that we are still friends and have been working hard on new content both separately and together, stay tuned and remember to drink water! ▼ 769 replies ↳ username03 2 days ago Will do boss! ↳ username54 2 days ago You guys dating yet?? username66 2 days ago Someone pinch me! A full hour of just (name) and Spencer? I think I have arrived in heaven! ▼ 18 replies ↳ username69 2 days ago Toasters and bathtubs never looked like a tempting combo till now. ↳ username24 2 days ago Get help please @ username69

username56 30 minutes ago It is a monuments day to be a (yourshipname) supporter, I can't wait for the besties to be back together! (yourshipname)updates ✓ Just got inspired from this video, will be making an edits reel stat! ▼ 199 replies ↳ username04 1 days ago YES PLEASE, FEED MY DELUSIONS.

username05 1 day ago (edited) 0:17 (name): "To start off, I am still very much single and am still employed by Smosh as a cast member and producer. I would also like to apologize publicly to Spencer, the team, and the fans for being so distant lately. I have been finding it hard to manage my work here at Smosh with my outside projects. My stress and mental health was affecting more than just myself, and I came to find too late those who I had hurt in the process of my self-destruction. Which is why I took a step back..." ▼ 5 replies ↳ username11 1 days ago Yes, you clap back (name)! ↳ username14 30 minutes ago I love you (name). But why did you do those interviews if you were so stressed? ↳ username12 15 minutes ago @ username14 They were probably booked before it all happened. You know PR tours and all that. ↳ username14 just now Okay, that makes more sense now. ↳ username77 10 minutes ago Yeah, not single for long! I swear if Spencer is gonna do nothing, I am going to step up.

username33 4 hours ago 1:01 Spencer: "It makes me happy to see everyone who supports (name) and I both on and off-screen. For those who need clarification though, (name) and I have never and are not currently dating one another. We are best friends, simply put and we forgave one another right after. All I ask- we ask is for you to please respect our privacy and relationship as well as those connected to us." ▼ 12 replies ↳ username43 30 minutes ago (edited) Spencer forgot to include, "at this time" to the dating part ;) It's okay sweetie, we know whats really going on. username12 2 days ago I can't wait to see more of (names)'s projects outside of Smosh! So funny to think we'll see them on the big screen now, those interviews with Glen and Sydney make so much more sense now! Take your time on making content, take care of yourself please, I can wait a bit longer. username17 30 minutes ago Still don't know how to feel about this. Sure I am happy they are still friends, but I just have too many questions left unanswered. Like Alex and the arm placement, that deleted comment under (name)'s interview with Glen and Sydney and them potentially sharing an apartment?? username39 just now HOLY SHIT, THEY ARE BRINGING BACK BORED AF AND NOBODY THOUGHT TO TELL ME??? username99 15 minutes ago Man I missed their banter and longing stares across the table. Nothin' hits harder than (yourshipname). username39 1 day ago Spencer looked so proud of (name) when they were telling us their dream of finally staring in a movie, and a large one at that. The stars in his eyes- I want that for me. username47 just now Everyone keeps talking about how Spencer should ask out (name) but like (name) could also do it too, they seem more likely to ask Spencer out themselves. IDK just makes me think that if they were to date, they would've done so already. Kinda loosing hope here... ▼ 2 replies ↳ username33 just now Don't ever loose hope! They are both still single, theres always a chance :) ↳ username01 just now I can FEEL they are the next Shayne x Courtney. They are following all the same landmarks, I would argue with even more chemistry. username33 1 hour ago Anyone else feel like (name) is taking a major downgrade somehow? They are going from rom-com main character here at Smosh to side-character, second love interest in a film. Kinda hoped that they would've starred in something else.

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: alrighty! part 3 done, how we feeling about the slowburn and one-off pieces?- good I hope because I'm already working on some more hhahahhaha

─ · · TAGLIST: @lisiliely

[savannahsdeath]

heyy! this is my first time asking a request but can you do more mafia ellie? i love her sm omg 🤭

MAFIA!ELLIE X READER

mdni please<3

warnings: 18+!! mentions of ellie not having time for reader;(( finger sucking? cum eating just smut and ellie ending up shoving her fingers in your mouth because .

writers note: inspired by @seattlesellie 's fic though hers about abby 🤭(read it here) .. i found it days ago and just couldnt get this out of my head goshhh and finding it again was so hard !!

: ̗̀➛ "yeah, good fuckin' job." ellie mumbled in a raspy whisper.

you could see her arm muscles tense as her grip on her phone tightened. you bit your lip and threw your head back, leaning it on her shoulder.

it wasn't supposed to be like that. not at all.

: ̗̀➛ she told you she has a day off - well, she's her own boss, so she could have one any day, but her job is hard to take a break of. there's always some problems or complications. or unexpected calls, like this one. of course, she apologised a hundred times before picking it off (not really, she just murmured a half-assed 'sorry, babe'), but it didn't make it any less annoying.

: ̗̀➛ so you ended up pressed against her chest with legs spread wide open, making room for her right hand, which, much to your surprise, didn't slid out of you.

"ellie—" you let out a desperate mewl, feeling her fingers slow down as her focus shifted to the person on the phone.

she shushed you, planting a loving kiss on your neck, which only added fuel to your neediness.

"i know." she whispered, curling her fingers inside of you to prove her point. she straightened up as if whoever she was talking with could see her previous posture. "uhh, yeah... could you repeat?"

her every move would force a sound out of the back of your throat, every touch of her lips on your neck whenever she wasn't the one speaking left dark marks on your skin. you held onto her hand, digging your nails into her forearm what didn't bother her at all. being silent wasn't easy, it took lots of self-control which disappeared in ellie's presence.

: ̗̀➛ it was even harder when the "good fuckin' job" turned out to be something more like "fucked job". that's when you finally earned her focus. her fingers found the perfect way to calm her down, take some anger out and let her listen to your beautiful moans. you really tried to be quiet, but all you could do is purse your lips, what only muffled all the little whimpers.

"look, if you don't figure it out till tomorrow, you're fucking dead." she hissed, her frustration spreading through her whole body - from head to toes.

you felt the electricity cumulating in her fingers, you felt how mad she was. oh, yes, you felt that.

"i—" you whined, tugging on her arm to get even more of the attention.

"hushh..." she clicked her tongue, turning back to her phone. "i'm not kidding. your wife's gonna get your head as a christmas gift, if i'll feel generous."

every single word that escaped her mouth caused another gasp from you, because you didn't really listen to how harsh her statement was, you just enjoyed her raspy voice which was perfectly sychronised with her fingers. when she spoke slowly, her movement would also slow down, and, oh, how much you wanted to beg her to hang up.

"i don't care— no, shush, shut up." she hissed, but you felt better at the thought of you not being the only one who has to stay quiet now. "i have no idea how you'll do it, but you will, or i swear to god i—" her slim digits digged into you as she kissed your cheek, mumbling a tired; "fuckin' idiots" close to your ear while pulling away.

the man on the phone must start to get nervous, as his pathetic voice was now audible even for you. he kept apologizing and rambling nonsense, though ellie wasn't really interested in his excuses. plus, she had other things to do.

she used the little break as much as she could, pumping her fingers in and out of you and even slightly withdrawing her phone from her ear so she could listen to the sticky, dirty noises. nuzzling her face in your neck, she let out a long hum, either satisfied at the sound or to make the poor man think she cares. maybe both.

eventually, she continued her conversation. not forgetting about a disappointed, dramatic sigh first, of course. "any last wish?" she asked with an obvious smirk.

his voice raised even more, now not only apologizing but begging her for forgiveness. ellie never hurt any of her 'workers', unless they were traitors, so the fact that he took her seriously seemed unusual and, at some point, hilarious.

: ̗̀➛ you were so close, finally, after minutes of this torture - of your satisfaction disappearing for a few seconds just to come back... just to leave again, making your neediness take over. you bit your lip and looked at ellie, plopping your head on the crook of her neck. she felt how fastly and roughly you exhaled against her collarbone, grinning in amusement. you shifted, pressing your back even harder to her chest so you could feel it raising and falling as she breathes. your eyelids fell, making you get lost in a dark maze of every possible sense but sight.

"ellielliellie!" you whined, her name rang out in the dense, cold air.

your voice could be definitely heard on the other side of the phone, though the man didn't even stop his panicked rambling, what probably meant he was too busy to notice it.

she tsked as your throbbing walls clenched around her, her soaked fingers dripping on her palm. the ache which was persistently located somewhere deep in your body, maybe in the core of your bones, and didn't want to let go of you finally subsided. your hands almost unconsciously rested against your sides and as you opened your eyes you could see little moon shapes left on her forearm, where your nails digged into her.

it took you by complete surprise, not giving you time to react - though you wouldn't do anything anyway - before your pornographic moan got cut off with her digits sliding inside of your mouth. your saliva pooled down as your teeth grazed her flesh; salty and,, callous. her palm rested against your chin, forcing you to keep it raised.

"el—luhh" you tried to mumble but it came out as nothing like your girlfriend's name. it was slobbery, unclear and— disgusting.

she turned back to her phone, making you only able to guess what her expression was but she was, without a doubt, smirking. your tongue flopped flat beneath / against her fingers, earning a hum from ellie. as your pouty lips closed around her, her digits moved in deeper, causing you to gag for a second.

"c'mon, you'll live." she rolled her eyes, and you weren't sure which one of you is she talking to now - you, or the man who thinks he fights for his life, when in reality his 'threat' doesn't even listen to him?

your view range was violated by her grip, but you could see how unbothered she was through the corner of your eye. you could feel it - feel that her thighs don't tremble and clench, or that her breath is steady and deep, unlike yours.

as she shoved her fingers almost knuckles deep in your mouth, she spread them as if to gesture scissors and you swore you can read her mind, so you twirled your tongue around them, cleaning them up. your own juices got replaced with just as messy saliva, which small droplets cumulated in the corner of your lips. you couldn't help but suck on her digits, and the action itself made your eyes watery.

"you'll stay silent now, 'kay?" she spoke up in a mocking tone, and you couldn't tell who is she talking to again - no matter which one of you it was, you knew she wasn't asking and you hoped that the man realizes it too.

still, you nodded, making her whole hand follow your movements, what almost felt like she's the one controlling your body's reaction.

"of course you will." she cooed in a serious voice, though there was a different undertone - laced with taunting sweetnes.

✧˖°

[pintrestgrl]

Dad Rafe! Dad Rafe!

I think he didn't want kids at first but then his girlfriend got pregnant and he was so worried about how everything would go, but once his baby was born he just knew he wanted a big family.

I think he has three kids (a boy with two little sisters) and every time they do anything in his head he's just like, "I never thought I could love anything this much 🥹"

hi hi hi anon !! whoever this is pls send more, like flood my inbox i beg. also sorry for the length, i got carried away. but i hope u like it anon !

dad!rafe just being dad!rafe

i feel like he would be so so scared to get you pregnant. like this man would take every precaution ever. he was wayyy too scared to be a father, and end up like ward. literally terrified him.

but he also couldn’t resist not cumming inside of you. sooo he would, and then pray immediately after.

this man would be a wreck when you got pregnant. like literally tweaking tf out. he’d be so scared to end up like his own father and not be a good enough dad. he would be reading all those parenting books and literally googling ‘how to be a good dad’.

around month 8-9 of your pregnancy, he began to accept the idea a little more. but def not a whole lot. once the baby is born though, omg he is in love with that child.

and once he saw it was a boy, omg he felt an instant connection to his son. he wanted to give him a better childhood then he got, his son was his redo on his life. he wanted nothing but the best. he’d also be sooo protective. like nobody but you and him would be able to touch his baby.

after about 2 years he’d be begging for another child. soo ofc you let him knock you up yet again. and omg when you give birth and it’s a girl, you’re literally done for. she would be such a daddy’s girl it would be insane. he’d take her to every daddy daughter dance, every recital, he’d be her biggest fan.

but, after only a year, he wanted more. he still wasn’t satisfied. he wanted needed another kid. he prayed the whole pregnancy it would be a girl, and clearly it worked. this man would have baby fever worse then yours.

he would love his little family so so so much. he’d take his son to all his games or concerts, and take his girls to every recital, game, whatever they wanted. i think he would be a bit stricter on his son, making sure he would protect his sisters as much as he did.

but he could never ever say no to his girls. they were his babies, he just couldn’t. as soon as they pouted and said please, he was done for.

[aerynwrites]

Hi! Just wanted to say that I admired your work, and you have pushed me to write again. I hope you have a good day. (Sorry,

a little awkward here)

If you don't mind, I have a request. I always wonder how Gale, Halsin, or whoever you would like to write would react to a Tav that her/their love language is physical touch and/or gift giving (like little crafts and stuff.) Thanks!

ooo i love this idea!! Did it in HC format so I could do both Halsin and Gale (+ Dammon bc I love him lol). I hope you enjoy my friend!

Having an S/O whose love language is Physical Touch and Gift Giving

Gale

I definitely take Gale as someone who loves physical touch but doesn’t like PDA.

So he reserves all his touches for when you all are alone or away from prying eyes.

But he does love it.

He loves when you cuddle up to him when he reads, putting his arm around you and pulling you close as he reads to you.

he also loves holding your hand, intertwining your fingers together.

And he loves kisses.

Kisses to your lips, your cheeks, your nose, etc…

He especially loves leaving kisses to your neck/shoulders when you are lying in bed or just before you wake up.

No when it comes to gift giving, I don’t feel like Gale is particularly familiar with relieving gifts from romantic partners - at least not the small but still meaningful ones.

He keeps anything and everything you give him, always telling you what he likes about it and stuff.

If it’s something he can wear/use you bet your ass he is using it or wearing it all the time.

Halsin

Halsin, as we all know, is not a shy man.

He loves to touch you and doesn’t give a fuck who sees lmao.

He will hold your hand or tug you closer to his side, even kiss you whenever and wherever. He does not care, he just loves having you close and feeling your skin against his own. Even in a non sexual way.

I also know this man loves to cuddle okay??

Like I feel like he runs warm, so at night he probably doesn’t sleep with a shirt on and just has you tucked against his chest.

And he obviously, loves to kiss you just like Gale lmao.

He’s always sneakin’ a lil’ kiss.

When it comes to gift-giving, he loves the little things you bring him.

Whether it be some honey you found at the market or small little malformed wooden figures you tried your best to whittle.

He keeps and cherishes them all, something you don’t find out until you find his little stash in his pack.

If you ask him about it, he just smiles that wonderful smile and tells you he likes to have a piece of you close to him at all times.

Dammon

Okay, possible controversial idea but uh…

I feel like Dammon is a bit touch starved.

Not because he doesn’t like touch or anything but with his home being thrust into he hells and most of his time spent in the forge I just don’t see him spending time much with others.

So when it becomes apparent that your love language is physical touch, he’s a tiny bit lost at first.

But he reciprocates after a while, and soon he finds out he loves that shit too.

He loves to hold your hand, even presses a kiss to your knuckles everyonce and a while, especially if you’re both just lounging around.

I definitely peg him as one of those guys that does the whole “hand on your lower back when he passes behind you” thing and if that doesn’t make you weak in the knees idk what will.

also his tail?? I’m sorry but that man projects his emotions with his tail i swear.

You find it wrapped loosely around your leg a lot when you’re cuddled up in bed, holding you close just like his arms do.

Now, when it comes to gift giving - I think he is more used to being the one to give rather than receive.

so when you first give him a gift he is really surprised and can really only mutter a stuttered flustered thank you.

I feel like your first gift to him might be a new scarf, so even if he didn’t verbalize it well you know he loves it when he wears in nonstop for weeks after you gave it to him.

anything else you give him, small hand made trinkets and baubles, etc… you’ll soon see proudly displayed scattered around his forge.

[cheesus-doodles]

i wonder how izana is like if he had a s/o during the time when he was the black dragon leader

Red Dragonflies Masterlist | Masterlist

‎‎‎

i have actually answered this previously in these Relationship HCs ! and this is also the case in my red dragonflies AU, former gang leader reader is actually Izzy's s/o when he was the black dragon leader - have linked the masterlist up top cough

but because I like to rant, here are some more thoughts about yan black dragon-era Izzy and you, which can apply to both regular reader and gang leader reader!

Izana was probably already very unstable and jealous during his time as the 8th Gen Black Dragon leader, what with the entire situation between Shinichiro constantly talking about Mikey, and learning that the Black Dragon gang would go to said boy instead of him. Combined that with him having found you as an s/o, someone that Izana would see as his, something that he could finally own and keep to himself without having to share (unlike the whole situation with Shinichiro), no doubt that it wouldn't take long for Izana to swing into yandere tendencies, becoming extremely overbearing and overprotective over you.

‎

With you around, there is a very clear difference in Izana's mannerisms and general behavior. Almost a personality flip in fact, it's night and day how he acts in your presence and when you aren't present. After all, there's a certain way that Izana wants you to perceive him as, and then there's everything else - so this white-haired boy would be sure to carefully tailor and adjust how he acts around you to what he knows you like (to a certain degree of course). As long as you don't threaten the status quo, as long as you keep by his side and his side only, your precious Izzy is whoever you want him to be. Loving, kind, doting, he can almost seem to read your mind and predict your moods.

Knows how to make you feel better after a shitty day, knows what to say and what to do to get you falling heads over heels for him over and over. But don't let that fool you into thinking that you were beyond his manipulation, because nope, not a chance. If he even has the slightest doubt that you were drifting away from him, or worse, thinking of leaving him, expect for Izzy to start subtly tearing you down. He wouldn't sound any different from what he usually does, cooing, low, soft murmur, but the things that slip from his mouth; it pokes at your insecurities, stirs the doubts you have about yourself. Yes, you were the most beautiful person he had laid eyes on, but did you think that really extended to everyone? Surely, surely you know that only he can love you like this? You couldn't possibly survive away from his side the way you are, right?

In his mind, Izzy is only doing it because he loved you as much as he did - you were made for him, like he was made for you. He couldn't live without you, so even if he had to hurt you a little, it'll all be worth it. You'll see that it was all for you.

‎‎

Wouldn't be uncommon to see him roaring down streets, both city and mountain ones alike, on his motorbike with you clung to his back and with no specific destination in mind - just likes to spend time with you, brings you anywhere that you want to go. Besides, the delinquents in the city, be they Black Dragons or rival scum, know better than to stare at the two of you. Loves light, airy places, so be prepared to spend a lot of time just hanging out together on rooftops and mountains, somewhere where you can feel the breeze through your hair, where Izzy can get you all to himself. All your attention being on him is the best kind of date.

There's no such thing as privacy, period. He absolutely needs to know everything that happens in your life, and anything less would earn you a full tantrum and fit. Put simply, its either Izana is there, hovering next to you and keeping one violet eye on all your ongoings, and no doubt this baby boy has someone (cough Inupi cough) tagging you from a respectable distance when he isn't free. That is, on top of having unfettered access to everything on your phone; call logs, messages, photos. Nothing is secret from him, why would it be? What do you have to hide from your partner?

You don't go anywhere new without Izzy. Why do you have to? What were you hiding? Your future husband would be happy to take you anywhere you have to go: cafe, the new department store downtown, even festivals. So unless you were trying to hide something from him, why wouldn't you want him to go along? Don't you know how dangerous it is out there? What if you get jumped by a rival gang? Needless to say, keeping presents a secret from this boy isn't a walk in a park.

‎‎

Everything else that Izana doesn't think you would approve of seeing would be done out of your sight. He doesn't like having you see the darker side of your boyfriend, the one that deals with weapons and drugs, the one that beats people, both civilians and his own gang members alike for the mildest of perceived infringements against you. You were too soft, too delicate for that. What if you got scared off? What would he do if you became frightened of him?

Instead, all his rage, all his hatred, he poured into the Black Dragon gang, leading them down darker and darker paths. The entire world was scum as far as he was concerned, trash that he had to beat and flatten into perfection so you didn't have to foul your hands and feet.

Sure Izana couldn't keep Shinichiro to himself as much as he desperately wanted to, the first time he truly found family - the source of a lot of his anger and jealousy. He hated Mikey, and always will, for stealing his older brother. But you were perfection, divinity, and you filled the hole in his heart; you didn't have to see that side of him if you just stuck by his side and returned his love. You were the only thing giving stability to a very fragile Izzy, and god only knows what would happen to him if that stability ever left. Izana would give you the sun and the moon if you wanted them both, all he asked for in return was your loyalty.

[lostinforestbound]

Oh boy howdy I've been thinking about the wizard a lot so here we go! I'm aware this is out of nowhere but I got inspired after reading some of his dialogue in-game!

My General Rolan Headcanons

Touched-Starved. If you searched up the word touch-starved and look at the photos, it would be this man's face. He hasn't experienced a kind touch outside from his siblings in a very long time.

Rolan is a lip biter! When anxious or frustrated, he bites and chews at his own lips, sometimes to the point of bleeding. He never realizes it until he tastes blood on his tongue.

When Rolan isn't biting his lips, he's for sure biting his nails. It's mostly chewing, but if he's under a lot of stress, he'll bite them off.

He has chronic nightmares, specifically about Cal and Lia's his mother. It stems purely from his survival's guilt after she passed away, and he was left to take care of Cal and Lia by himself. The nightmares had a period of getting significantly worse during and after Lorroakan's abuse.

Speaking of their mother; they have miniature portraits of her. Cal gave him one a very long time ago, but he hasn't been able to look at it after her death. In his dreams, he never sees her face, but he sees her eyes. (I touched on what the nightmares would look like in my own fic)

His tiefling traits are very sensitive. His horns, upper tail, ears, everything. He allows no one to touch them at all (except a few trusted people, which includes Tav if they are together and his siblings)

To those who enjoy the headcannon of Tieflings purring: I would say Rolan's purr is pretty high in register, mostly noise than vibration. It's high in his throat rather than in his chest.

Tieflings run hot, but I would say Rolan runs a little colder than most tieflings. It's why he hates the cold so much, especially when it snows. He has to bundle up and it's incredibly irritating. Not to mention the cold already brings bad memories of he and his siblings struggles during the winter months.

He absolutely has a whole morning routine that he never changes after he gets settled in the tower. It's his one chance to pamper himself and feel good for a little bit. He'll clean his face, putting a form of moisturizer on and letting it sit as he brushes out his hair. He already has his outfit for the day set on the bed and waiting for when he gets out.

I definitely think Rolan developed some depression and/or a panic disorder after, well, everything he's been through (Or he's already had it and it got so much worse). At first he tries to get through it by himself, but unsurprisingly, it made it worse. After some stubbornness, he lets himself be helped by either Cal, Lia, or his partner.

The king of overworking. He'll wear himself down to the bone before he accepts going to bed and relaxing. He can't accept rest, not until he's done with this one last thing-

In general, Rolan loves fiercely. He loves Cal and Lia to death, and he would do anything for them. Gods forbid someone hurts them, the hells would rain fire that day. This goes the same for whoever his lucky partner is.

(If you have your own headcanons, please please please share them! I would love to hear them!)