#want to work on fic but my brain has been and continues to be Soup.

[chiropteracupola]

it's ALISON!

[sodobabe]

I’m With You Always: GN Reader x Aether x Dew x Swiss (Poly Relationship)

A/N: I have been wanting to work on a fic where a ghoul, or in this case, three ghouls, take care of the reader while the reader is suffering through a depressive episode and finally breaks down. This was originally just going to be Aether x reader but I got carried away so the reader is in a poly relationship with Aether, Dew, and Swiss. If polyamorous relationships are not your thing, just skip this. If they are your thing, enjoy this heartwarming fic of three ghouls taking care of their mate.

Warnings: A WHOLE LOT OF ANGST mentions of self-hatred (reader has semi-suicidal thoughts), mention of nausea, tooth rotting fluff,

You sat in the library by yourself, letting your brain rot with bad thoughts. I don’t deserve anything. I am nothing. Maybe the world would be better if I was dead. The thoughts were all consuming. You had been feeling this way for quite some time now. Even members of the abbey could tell as they would always ask if you were feeling okay because you did not seem like your normal self. You closed your eyes, hoping to hold back your tears, but alas, you failed. You curled up in the window bench as you watched the rain splash into the already forming puddle on the sidewalk. The more you watched the rain, the more it seemed as if your tears matched its pace.

As you sat there, paying no mind to anything other than the thoughts in your head, you heard a ruckus coming from across the library. You turned your head to see who it was and quickly snapped your head back around hoping that Aether, Swiss, and Dew didn’t notice you curled up in the window. You focused your attention back on the growing puddle. It was hypnotizing. It gave you time to create worse thoughts. What if I jumped out of the window? Would I die, or would I just suffer more because I would only be severely injured? The thoughts were growing with more and more morbid details. You closed your eyes to try to quiet your mind.

As your mind continued to race, you felt as if you couldn’t breathe. You realized it was getting harder and harder to fill your aching lungs. Fuck. They’re going to sense my distress. You were absolutely correct. You felt a stronger hand on your shoulder. You knew it was Aether. You knew his familiar touch, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to look at such a caring ghoul.

”Y/N? You alright, love?” Aether's voice was as smooth as the calm ocean.

All you could do was shake your head as a torrent of tears ran down your blood red cheeks. You tried to take a deep breath to sooth yourself, but a sob was let out instead.

”Oh, my little love. It’s okay, shhhh, you’re okay. I’ve got you,” Aether softly spoke, as he picked you up from your window.

You lost it, you sobbed into the warmth of his chest as he carried you out of the library, motioning for Swiss and Dew to follow him. You couldn’t stop the tears even if you wanted to. Aether gently carried you back to his room in the ghoul den and placed you softly into his nest. As you felt all of Aether’s engulf your aching body, you curled in on yourself, hugging your knees, and essentially curling up into a ball. You felt the bed sink next to you as Aether sat down and gently placed a hand on your back.

“Dew, can you go fix up some soup and grab some ginger ale?” Aether asked, knowing that you would make yourself nauseous by working yourself up.

”Sure thing, any type of soup?” Dew asked as he made his way out of Aether’s room.

”Anything we have, they’re not picky,” Aether said with a light chuckle.

”Swiss, can you go to their room, grab their stuffie, a fresh pair of clothes, and the book they’ve been reading that is on their bedside table?” Aether asked the multi.

Swiss didn’t reply. He simply nodded and made a beeline for your room. Aether stood up from the bed and threw on a pair of sweatpants and abandoned his shirt. He knew that you enjoyed feeling his bare chest. At this point, he was willing to do anything to get you calm enough so you did not make yourself sick. He crawled back into bed with you, sat against his head board, and pulled you to his chest. Your head met his chest and you knew you would be okay, however, you could not bring yourself to stop crying.

”Don’t worry, my love. I’ve got you now. I’ve got you forever. No need to worry. I am here, as long as you need or want me to be,” Aether cooed into your ear.

You laid on the quintessence ghoul, listening to his heart beat, trying to steady your mind. You weren’t even sure what you were thinking anymore. You were just feeling emotions that you had been keeping to yourself. Aether continued to rub gentle circles on your back and gently shush you as you tried to gather your emotions. You were happy knowing that he still cared about you, even at your lowest like this. His very essence was enough to calm you to the point that your eyes stopped producing tears. Once you thought you were calm enough, you looked up at Aether who was looking back at you.

”Hey, lovebug. You’re okay,” he said before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

”Aeth, I- I’m sorry,” you mumbled out.

“What are you sorry for?” He questioned, confusion flushing over his face.

“For being like this. For being an emotional mess all the time. I wish I wasn’t like this. I hate it. I hate myself for it,” you began to babble.

“Hey, stop that. You’re allowed to feel feelings, but you are not allowed to hate yourself. I won’t allow it. You are an amazing human being. You are the kindest soul I have met. You are worthy, Y/N. Do not let anyone tell you differently, even yourself,” he said, reassuringly.

The tears started again as you thought he was mad at you for saying you hated yourself. He pulled you closer to him, and started to gently rock you back and forth, trying to get you to calm down again.

”Shhhhh, Y/N. I am not mad at you, my little love. I am simply trying to reassure you of what a great person you are. I could never be mad at you, ever,” he said as he resumed rubbing your back.

As he continued holding you, Dew walked back in with your soup and ginger ale. You needed it, you hadn’t eaten in two days. You needed to eat but could not bring yourself to do so.

”Hey, little firefly. I have soup and fizzy ginger juice,” Dew said with a chuckle to himself.

You couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at the fire ghoul’s dry sense of humor, even if tears were still pouring out of your eyes. Dew sat down in the nest next to Aether and held your soup, waiting for you to sit up and take a bite.

”Wanna try and eat? You can sit up, we aren’t going anywhere,” Aether reassured, noticing your tight grip on his upper body.

Once you realized that you were surrounded by the ones you loved, minus Swiss for the time being, you started to relax. You mustered up the strength to pry yourself off of the warm quint ghoul, and took the bowl of warm soup from Dew.

“It might be a little cooler now, want me to warm it up for you?” Dew asked, holding out his hands.

”No, thank you, it’s a good temperature,” you said as you finished your first bite.

The soup felt good going down. It was warm enough to warm you up, but not scorching hot. You did a little shimmy as you continued eating your soup. You looked up at the two ghouls who were staring back at you, smiles spread across your face. As you continued eating your soup, Swiss bolted back into Aether’s room with your stuffie and a pair of clothes for you.

”I’m back, sorry it took so long, Rain was being needy, as always,” Swiss said as he handed Aether your stuffie and put your clothes on the couch next to Aether’s bathroom.

He crawled into the bed on the other side of Aether and snuggled into the quintessence ghoul’s side. Swiss had joined the relationship that you, Aether, and Dew had formed. You loved all three of them equally, as they loved you and each other equally. They each helped you through depression in different ways. Aether was always the one to hold you while you cried, well they all did that, but Aether was different. He was more soothing. He didn’t force you to talk about anything if you did not want to. Swiss was also soothing but tried to get you to talk, which most of the times you would, but he never understood why you wouldn’t the other times. He always talked about his feelings so he just thought everyone did. Dew, sweet Dewdrop. He tried to be helpful when it was just you and him, and you were in an episode, but the poor ghoul has a hard time expressing his emotions, let alone helping others with theirs. He would hold you and text Aether to come help. You loved him nonetheless.

“Wanna talk about it?” Swiss chimed in.

“Swiss, not everybody talks about their feelings,” Aether said, sternly.

”I know, but sometimes they talk about them,” Swiss replied.

”Maybe in a little, just wanna finish my soup and lay down,” you said, as you smiled to your multi ghoul.

As you took the last bite of your soup, and sipped the remaining broth, you handed your bowl back to Dew for him to place on the table next to Aether’s bed. You resumed your position laying between Aether’s legs with your head on his broad chest. He wrapped his arms around you as Dew snuggled into Aether’s side, wrapping his arm around you, and Swiss doing the same on the other side.

”A shower would really help you,” Dew chimed in.

“In a minute, just wanna lay here right now,” you replied, giving a soft smile to the kind fire ghoul.

The four of you laid in bed for a few minutes before you decided that you did in fact need a shower, but when you went to move, you realized that Aether and Swiss had fallen asleep. Dew was still awake, staring at you with admiration.

“Dew?” You whispered.

”What’s up, babe?” He replied.

”Wanna take a shower,” you mumbled.

The fire ghoul slowly pried himself off of the sleeping quintessence ghoul and stood up out of bed, releasing a big stretch while holding out his hand to you. You got out of bed next, and took his hand. The two of you walked to Aether’s bathroom and quietly closed the door. Dew started the shower, making sure the temperature was to your liking.

“Do you want me to cover my eyes, y’know, so you can undress?” The fire ghoul asked shyly.

”Dew, you do realize that you’ve seen me naked too many times to count, right. I don’t care if you look,” you joked with him.

”I know, but I feel like now is the wrong time to be turned on,” he chuckled, his tail tucked between his legs.

You rolled your eyes and smiled as you started to undress. You finally stepped into the shower and the hot water felt amazing against your aching body. You stood in the downpour for a minute before you realized you didn’t want to be alone.

”Dew? Can you join me? Don’t wanna be alone,” you said, shyly.

Before you knew it, a naked Dew was joining you in the shower. He knew exactly what to do as he embraced you, gently tipping your head back into the water to get your hair nice and wet. He then stuck his own head into the water, getting his stunning blonde hair wet. You always enjoyed showering with Dew. Even though the water was hot, he added to it. He grabbed your shampoo and squeezed a good amount into his hand before rubbing his hands together and gently massaging it into your hair. The warmth of his palms along with the massaging sensation relaxed you even more. While he was at it, he also added shampoo to his hair. While he let his shampoo sit, he embraced you once again and tipped your head under the water to rinse it out. One of his hands embraced the small of your back while the other worked on getting the shampoo out of your hair. Once your hair was shampoo free, he grabbed the conditioner and lathered your ends to make sure they were good and hydrated. He let that sit while he rinsed the shampoo out of his own hair. He didn’t bother to condition his hair as he only did it once a week. While the conditioner was still sitting in your hair, he took the time to wash your body. He picked up the clean washcloth that was on the towel rack and put a little bit of Aether’s body wash on it, knowing you liked to use his. He then gently ran the cloth all over your body, leaving sensual kisses along your body in the process. He then wiped himself down with the cloth. It was time to completely rinse. He held you close to him, under the downfall of water and worked his hands through the ends of your hair, making sure to get all of the conditioner out, while the water washed the soap off of the two of you.

Now that the shower was done, he helped you dry off and put on your fresh clothes. He went to reach for a clean shirt of his when he noticed you were staring at it.

”Would you like this shirt instead of the one you are wearing?” He smirked at you.

All you did was nod. He picked up the shirt and walked over to you. He gently lifted your hands up and pulled the shirt you were wearing off before pulling it onto himself. He then pulled his shirt onto you and gave you a deep kiss.

”I love you, Y/N. Never forget it. We all love you,” he whispered in your ear before opening the bathroom door.

Swiss and Aether were awake now, just chilling on the bed with each other. Dew took your hand and guided you back to bed. You crawled back in between Aether’s legs and placed your back against his chest.

“Mmmm, you smell delightful, love,” he purred in your ear.

”Do you want to read your book? I brought it for you,” Swiss said as he reached behind him and grabbed the paperback.

You graciously took it from him and opened it to where you left off.

”Thank you, all of you. I love you all so much and I’m sorry that I can be a lot sometimes,” you said, taking a moment before starting your reading.

”We wouldn’t have you any other way, Y/N,” Swiss says as he gives you a quick kiss.

”We don’t want you any other way,” Aether seconds, kissing the back of your neck.

”You’re perfect just the way you are, my fire love,” Dew said as he took your hand.

The three ghouls snuggled into each other after throwing on Inside Out, one of Dew’s favorites. You leaned your back into Aether as you continued your reading. Before you knew it, you were being woken up by Swiss taking your book from you, making sure to place your bookmark into the pages.

“Get some sleep, love. You deserve it. We will all be here when you wake up. Those two are out cold. If you need anything, let me know,” Swiss said before giving your forehead a kiss. He was always up throughout the night. Consider it a nightwatch.

[give-soup-please]

SOUP MY MAN i wanted to know if you could write Narrator finding some ✨spicy✨ fics written about him by the reader cuz theyre down bad

Obviously what happens isnt gonna be nsfw, bcuz you dont write that and I fully respect that 🫡 but could you do it suggestive? Like the one where reader continuously does the countdown ending cuz of narrys voice- except he just calls it cute and endearing n shit and o//o

Also srry you had to read all that, have some soup!!! 🍜

Narrator discovering the ‘spicy’ content written about him by the reader

The narrator greedily takes in every word you’ve written about him. The words you write are delicious and enticing, especially the more spicy stuff. He’s learning information about you through your writing. How you like to be touched, how you like to be spoken to, everything. 

He scans the titles of your posts, rapidly intaking what specifically you'd like him to do.Now that he knows, he has every intention of wooing you to the best of his ability. 

You walk in the room, and see the narrator scanning your word document. You let out a string of swears, rush over, and shut your screen off. The narrator is grinning openly, and you’re refusing to make eye contact.

“Well now~ Reader, were you ever planning on letting me in on this little secret of yours?” You stutter through a response. The narrator presses onwards, a deep purr in his voice.

“Your writing is excellent- almost as good as mine. And now, your desires are no longer strange and unknowable, at least, not to me.” 

Your face is heating up, your eyes are locked on the floor. “I- uh- You weren’t meant to see this stuff.”

His voice is luxurious. “And why not?” he reaches out and touches you, exactly where you liked to be touched. Damn your inability to write from someone else’s perspective! Your brain was already starting to short circuit.

“You and I can spend a great many years together, acting out each one of these. Think of it as a… collaboration. Hmm, yes, I like the sound of that. Two artists, working in tandem, driving the other to the heights of pleasure. What do you say?”

His voice was just right, his hands perfectly placed to drive you wild. You’re shaking a bit. What a glorious mistake it had been, to write yourself so much into your work.  

[palettesofrenaissance]

A few short ideas I have so far for the Fleur De Louve November 2023 event. With each of these, I welcome input, ideas, collaboration, and anything. My mind has started to come down from the stress and busyness of work and I've been spending time with family

Also, I welcome anyone sending these as prompts for me to fill, especially the ones I have nothing for, but please add more info. My brain is reviving but it's still mostly dead 🥲

Halloween Candy - Everyone is alternating between watching a movie night in the living room and answering the door for trick or treaters when the doorbell rings. Sarah is in costume, Bucky isn't. AJ and Cass are preparing to go out but the trick or treating seems to have started early. One time when he answers the door, the mother who's standing behind her child subtly grips him tight and pulls him back. She politely declines their candy and rushes her son off, ignoring his complaining. Others in line ignore her and happily take the candy from the bucket Bucky holds, but he can't help but notice that the mother begins talking to other parents down the street. After this, Bucky starts making excuses to no longer answer the door and Sarah and the boys notice. The boys pipe up saying that Bucky isn't scary, but edge it on saying that if he wanted to be, he should wear "that mask Cass got you." It's a scary, bloody, rubber mask with missing teeth bought from a party store. Bucky is unsure about it, but he tries it on anyway, thinking that it might be better if no one sees his face. Liking gruesome things, Cass loves it. Sarah thinks that he should wear the half mask and outfit that's left in the family's trunk of costumes; it's a Phantom of the Opera outfit.

I don't know where to go after this, but I imagine it being a happy ending

-

Sweet Potato Pie / Pumpkin - [Explicit] It's late at night and the boys are at a sleepover and Sam is away, Sarah and Bucky are savoring a plate of leftover desserts without the overhanging thought that the last of it could be gobbled up at any moment. Sarah is still working on her first plate, a slice of sweet potatoe pie with vanilla whipped cream. Bucky gets up for his second and returns with a slice of pumpkin pie, to Sarah's silent judgment, which was purchased at a grocery store. She teases him about it, he defends that both pies taste equally good, but Sarah digress. He cuts off a piece and offers it to her to taste since she's refused all this night. Her decision doesn't change. They begin to playfully bicker until Bucky says that he has a way to convince her that both taste fine. His idea: to kiss Sarah deeply and long. She "still needs some convincing." So he reaches for the whipped cream that's sitting nearby and sprays a dollop on her chest. Of course he proceeds to clean her up with his mouth, and continues to move down her body, undoing her buttons one at a time...

Most likely a fade-to-black fic

-

Chai tea - Bucky has never tried chai. During a solo trip back to New York because he was invited to speak on a historical event, Sarah watches him mingle with a few historians afterwards, balancing a cardboard cup holder in one hand and periodically sipping her own. When he's done, he returns to her, greets her and asks what drinks she bought. Before she can even answer, he smoothly takes her cup from her hand to take a sip. He's stunned by the many spices and it takes a minute to process whether he likes it or not. Meanwhile, Sarah is holding in her laughter watching his face go from confusion to contemplating to surprise. In the end, he finds out he likes chai tea

-

Soup - Sarah is sick. AJ is sick. Cass is sick. Bucky and Sam, by chance, haven't gotten sick. But Sam has ran away to stay at Joaquìn's so Bucky has been appointed the unofficial nurse. He masks up, wears gloves, and serves out medicine every 3 hours, refills cups of Gatorade, reapplied Vics rub, and keeps the nebulizer full. Unfortunately, they've run out of soup so he has to hurry over to the nearest store to by some. There, he runs into a friend he's made in town who's surprised to see him wearing a mask. Baffled, the friend asks if Bucky even could get sick (because of the serum and not having 21st century vaccines). He doesn't know but doesn't want to find out. When he returns home, he jokingly says that if he gets sick, then it's everyone else's turn to take care of him. The AJ in particular takes interest in this proposal and shoots off ideas of how in the world one could help a man from the 30s feel better when he's so goddamn picky about everything

(Suggestions especially welcome for this)

-

"There's no place like home." - a short dialogue (maybe) about AJ practicing for his part in a school play. This year it's The Wizard of Oz after doing The Wiz for five years straight. Most of the children haven't seen The Wizard of Oz at all. The lead little girl who plays Dorothy has forgotten her lines, so AJ loudly calls to Bucky to help her with her lines. Bucky doesn't know why AJ thinks he'd know the lines like that by heart. Like the little kid he is, so he has limited filter, AJ honestly answers something along the lines of, "because you're old. It came out during your time, didn't it?" Bucky sputters, shocked at AJ's bluntness and that it's the truth. The little girl repeats what she knows. Bucky reminds her that it's the line "there's no place like home."

-

"I think it looks nice."

"Tell me a story." "I don't know any stories."

"You've got leaves in your hair."

"I love you, but you have the worse poker face I've ever seen."

"Do that again."

"Would you like to dance?"

Celebrity/Bodyguard AU

Coffee Shop/Bakery AU

College Professors AU

Space AU

Tattoo Parlor/Flower Shop AU

Med School/Doctors AU

Mermaid/Pirates AU

Falling leaves

Chilly mornings

Apple picking

Football game

Gratitude

Sweaters

Family dinner

They were roommates

Friends-to-lovers

Bed sharing

Found family

[ceilingfan5]

20 Questions for fic writers

Tagged by @holdmecloser-gandydancer

tagging you, the person reading this and wishing someone tagged you, yes you, i mean it

1. How many works do you have on A03?

total? 73. TAZ? 37. oh man. palindrome

2. What's your total A03 word count? 703,033 baby ive been here for Ten Years

3. What fandoms do you write for?

recently taz. before that, aftg, haikyuu!! etc. but man it has been taz for a While

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

OF TAZ WORKS (all my top 5 are old old) 1. Sticker Stars (of course) 2. Run Away With Me 3. Rub This On Your Body 4.Little Shop of Horny and 5. Apply Directly to the Forehead (one of my first taz fics!!) all of those make sense as contenders but i am surprised revenge plus one is #8

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

i................have to be honest..........................................i'm so...sorry............

[id: a screenshot of "Inbox (3402)" indicating no, no I do not]

(please understand this is from years and years and years and years)

i pretty much only reply if i am directly asked a question i have an answer to or it makes me cry in a good way....not because i'm an asshole or because i don't appreciate them!!!! comments mean truly so much to me!! i just don't know what to say besides thank you, so i usually write an emphatic thank you on each chapter and hope people know i mean it.... please don't think i don't care...please............. i care so much

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

we don't do that here

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

“But like,” words fall out of Taako’s mouth before he can stop them. “Live your life, dude, go a little nuts, feel like a whole person, give me $200, participate in the universe, get your back blown out on demand, fucking-” he laughs. “Have a collection, experience joy, buy a cat, get diagnosed with autism, fall in love-”

“What was that last part??” 

if that (from revenge plus one) isn't a happy ending what is (i'm hoping the people who care enough to read a post like this have either read it already or are going to go. oh my god i have to read revenge plus one tonight)

8. Do you get hate on fics?

no and if i did i would block and delete em, there's no time for that. fuck em. this is a joy pursuit (i would cry though. don't. what the hell. just close the tab like a normal person. someone MADE THAT.)

9. Do you write smut?

oh baby DO I

i do intend to write some more publishable stuff soon. most of my personal stuff has gotten Way Too Weird. but look out for some horny supervillain taakitz soon if thats your cup of hot chocolate with too many marshmallows in it 👀👀👀👀

10. Do you write crossovers?

sorry i am obsessed with one thing at a time.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

hope not! if so i cast a billion death spiders on them. smooch. partake in the joyous act of baring your soul via dumbfucks yourself, coward

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

once, i think? im not sure they finished

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

absolutely, some of my best stuff was originally rp!!! i am so sorry @holdmecloser-gandydancer @noodyl-blasstal for not continuing some super exciting projects, my brain is electric soup and my life is a circus. someday. someday we will play again. i must believe

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

if you did not expect taakitz i have 29+ fics you should read

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

everything is possible until you give up. so who knows!!!!!!!!!!! it sure does help to know there are people that will still read things if and when they are ever finished though

16. What are your writing strengths?

VOICE! dialogue. fun

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

planning fucking ahead

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

caution necessary but i mean live your life, just be aware of the err of google translate

19. First fandom you wrote for?

on ao3? wtnv

before that? squints. maybe homestuck or............no it was shakespeare

man. fuck

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

revenge plus one, probably, i miss living in it

nothing says passion like 90k and baby's first adhd medication!!!!!!!!!

really though please go read it. if you have 90k worth of attention and time and interest

also hey? in general? if you read this far? keep writing. and enjoy it. self indulgence isn't just nice, it's what makes life worth living. make for you, and then the comments and appreciation are bonus. snare a few friends in your web and you're living, baby

keep reaching for the stars

[gothamxwattpad]

Writer’s block doesn’t have me stuck.

I have me stuck.

I have multiple directions I want to go but can only pick one because each one changes what happens next.

One direction has me writing from the POV of a character that doesn’t really hold a lot of weight in the story, I mean, she does play her part. She’s the daughter of a former gang leader who still holds great power and influence over the other gangs in Uptown and Midtown Gotham. He did a thing (no spoiler) that got innocent people killed to save him and his own family. He’s had to live with that guilt and now his daughter has to live with it too.

Another direction has me jumping to the main character’s best friend’s plot line, (that was very wordy, my apologies). Him being the street art & comic book loving little punk he is, that would send him down a rabbit hole, (pun intended- no spoilers), which would skip ahead to present conflicts. I’d actually like to save that for a little later on.

Or I can continue on with my chapter three being in the same POV of my main character from chapter two. I’d like to go ahead and post chapter two but not until I’ve figured out what I’m doing with chapter three. (Again I apologize for the word soup, it’s been a long day).

After writing all of this, i didn’t even consider I have other characters I can play around with, after all, my biggest issue with rewriting was how many characters I have and that I kept trying to write it from one POV, the main character’s, and it wasn’t working.

I’m not pantsing, (you know, writing from the seat of my pants), I am following the same storyline I already have, just trying to do it better. I have another version of my fic, GothamX, on Wattpad and Archive of Our Own(AO3) and it’s okay. It’s not great and it needs a lot of organizing and editing and some love and affection. THAT was me pantsing.

But I’m trying and I keep reminding myself that little progress is still progress and this project is not work, it is art & fun & for myself. I wanted something different from all the other Harley Quinn and Joker fanfictions on Wattpad.

If you can’t find what you want to read in fanfiction, make what you want to read. Because chances are, you’re not the only one that wants that story.

(sorry, I’m derailing again)…

I really wanted to be close to done with part one by the end of January. Part One is the first night. It sets up the basis for everything else to come. The First Night. The First punch thrown. The First storm…

If I can get through part one, I can branch out more on the other plot lines with my other characters.

Welcome to my Tedtalk and thank you for letting me ramble on. Feel free to ask questions and such.

Tagging @dyrewrites since you said it was okay to brain dump on you😅

All of this was actually pretty helpful. I should brain dump more often.

[jeweled-blue-eyes]

Hi. So remember when you told this iklies x of Penelope au here Reynold left her in the first and iklies found her and I wrote a fic as i-wanna-be-an-aouthor Well I saw it again and i kinda wanted to continue it so I wrote another chapter on ao3.

Since you were the one who came up with the idea and it has forever been engrained in vadd headcanons part of my brain i thought it would only be fair if you read it. So https://archiveofourown.org/works/50339740/chapters/127176892#workskin.

Thanks a lot☺️☺️💝

Thank you for sharing your story with me! 🥰💗 I still remember it. Didn't Penelope and Iklies marry in the original version of your fic or was I already continuing the fic in my head because it didn't have an ending back then? Well, fingers crossed for them that this dream becomes reality in chapter 5. 🌠

Penelope's comment about the map...suspicious, Iklies why is the map wet? Did you smudge the lines purposefully because you didn't want Penny to abandon you? And aww Penny is so naive she believes him when he says the horse is rented. I wanted them to keep the horsie. Little things like Penelope not touching the communal soap or refusing to eat the weird smelling fish in the soup from the inn surprised me, because I imagined a person like her who grew up with little to no food would eat anything no matter how badly prepared. This gives me the impression that the life in the Eckart duchy wasn't yet so bad. Or that the bullying hadn't reached the stage where they tampered with her food yet. In the short time with the Eckarts she did pick up a few traits of a noble girl after all. Won't the people get suspicious of her appeareance?

That Reynold gets punished...ha! deserved. Even though it's a little unfair that he suffers more than the father and Derrick. He was the least awful person in Penelope's life and just copying what the other adults did. I feel like now Derrick and the knights might direct their anger towards him. I don't think Derrick would be as bad as he was to Penelope but I can see becoming a tad abusive towards Reynold and the Duke becoming a mix of neglectful (if he wasn't already) and overprotective of his remaining children. For example I can imagine that Reynold would now have a curfew and has to ask for permission every time he's leaving the duchy. They might assign him guards who are always glued to his side and he feels like he has barely enough room to breathe. He'd feel more like a prisoner than the son of an aristocrat. Which would give him a great chance to undergo character development and reflect on his behaviour. Maybe it gets so bad he runs away too and meets Penelope years later. It'd be on Penelope whether to forgive him or not but you can bet that Iklies would give Reynold first a proper beating for mistreating his (now) wife 👊🌸

[shingansoul]

That's How It Is (Trigun fic)

Sumary:

2023 Vashwood Week day 3, prompt: Scars

"I don't want to do this anymore."

This line has been rattling around in my brain for like 3 months so when I saw this for day 3's prompt i jumped on the chance.

@vashwoodweek

To read on AO3, follow the link below. To read here, continue past the read more!

“I don’t want to do this anymore…”

His voice had barely been above a whisper, but the only other sounds out here in the desert night was the wind around them whipping up loose sand out beyond the rocky outcropping they had made camp at for the night and the fire crackling beside them a small distance away at their little camp’s center. And yet, it felt like it had to be said quietly, a confession like any other sin meant only for the priest and God to hear.

Wolfwood paused from his actions, having been digging through Vash’s bag to dredge out some kind of canned food they had picked up at the previous town to heat over their meager fire. He waited, to make sure he didn't miss anything else from his companion but he was met with silence and a growing sense of unease in the air, his hackles would have raised if his body was truer to his name. He slowly turned to look over at the blonde, sitting on the ground not even a yard away with his legs pulled up to his chest and his face buried up to his nose in his crossed arms atop his knees. Today hadn’t been a bad one honestly, nobody had come to claim Vash’s bounty, nor in the town they had left that morning were they recognized. They were in a walking stretch, Angelina III giving out the week prior but it wasn't horrible or unfamiliar territory. They had not sustained any major losses or reminders at all that day, it had been nice almost frankly.

Yet with how small Vash looked curled up beside him, Wolfwood felt at a loss for proper words. He looked fucking miserable, to be honest. Not quite sad just… everything about him looked and felt run down. Part of Wolfwood thought it was about damn time he let himself feel as ragged as watching how he lived felt, but in this moment actually seeing it unguarded for once felt…off, wrong. Wolfwood plastered on a good naturedly smirk and offered a weak chuckle, trying to glaze over the moment, afraid something delicate would break if he didn't tread lightly here.

“Hey now, my cooking isn't so bad and we’ll be in a town again in no more than a couple days if we keep up a good pace.” 

He tried to keep his tone flippant and light, like he was distracted not as if his attention and body weren't both wired up now keeping attention to any actions or words the other had. In response, Vash merely shook his head, his arms hiding a grimace on his lips as he grit his teeth. Wolfwood waited a few beats before returning to root through the bag, looking to get his original target to at least give off the impression he wasn't stalling and really was casually setting up dinner. He squinted to read the label on the can once he’d drudged it out from the bag, tilting his head a bit to better catch the fire light. 

“Now let’s see…oh now this is a score, you found tortilla soup back there? See, that’s pretty nice right?” He was talking out his ass, he knew it was obvious. But talking felt better than the silence, it put a distance between what he didn’t know how to address and moving through the evening to tomorrow. Hell, maybe they just wouldn't talk about it, wouldn't that be easy and nice? Wolfwood was a coward, he knew that. When it came to things he couldn't use his hands or the punisher for he was at a loss, too carved sharp from the life he’d lived so long having lost most of the real gentleness he had in exchange for a pretty good cover act he usually reserved for women and children to get information and the odd favor.

He set up their little hanging cooking put on its sticks above the fire and dumped the can of soup into it. Stoking the fire a little, he moved to sit not quite next to Vash, but maybe a foot to his right and kept his eyes on their dinner instead for lack of better focus. Now with both his task and his companion, he was caught in a place of quietly waiting. And so he did. It could have been moments or minutes, but Vash had taken the quiet as some kind of invitation and had simply let himself slump to the side up against Wolfwood's shoulder and upper arm. His legs were still drawn in but he turned his foot to be planted so the priest didn't take his entire weight, but it was still more than he was expecting and he reflexively gave out an “oof!”.

Vash kept his gaze downwards, but his position no longer supporting his arms he made to hug himself, his face more visible as proximity didn't allow him to truly hide behind his high collar. Wolfwood, unable to avoid him now, finally looked over at his charge proper for the first time since his small voiced confession. He was quick to notice normally pale lips now looked red and rough, like they’d been bitten through or gnawed on. Wolfwood sighed, scooching closer to Vash so their hips grazed each other, making the lean for the blonde a bit less dramatic and uncomfortable. Vash let himself be adjusted, resettling higher up on Wolfwood's shoulder proper pressing his cheek against the other man, his hair now tickling at Wolfwood's neck but not enough for him to do anything about it.

“Nick?”

“Hm?”

A pause.

“What do you do when…when it hurts for so long that you just stop feeling it anymore?”

Wolfwood’s brows furrowed at the question, unsure how to approach. “Are your scars acting up again?”

Vash hummed noncommittally, “Kind of.” He sounded unsure of his own answer, and Wolfwood could feel him working his jaw back and forth against his shoulder.

“Needle Noggin?”

“I think… I realized how much it hurt, and how long I've been hurting and…,” he paused, taking a deep breath as he turned his head to press his temple into the harder edge of his shoulder. “God, Nicholas, I'm so old and it never stops. It’s just the same thing every day and I keep moving forward but it doesn't matter, does it? I’ve walked every step of this entire planet at least once and yet I still keep walking, the only other constant is-...Does he hurt like this? Do you humans hurt like this? Is it like dying stars for you all, more painful but much faster until you just die?”

Wolfwood felt utterly gutted, like he’d been cut open and everything he had was spilling out instead of one of the most earnest admissions he had ever gotten from his companion. His voice had sounded so damn tired, not in a way anyone like Wolfwood could understand he didn't think. No, he was reminded how much the man beside him wasn't a man but a being, a creature much older than anyone else on this planet aside from the one who completed his matching set. And oh how this creature had suffered, open arms and warm smile rejected endlessly and punished. Had it always been like that, had there been no time truly that humans had returned Vash’s love? No, Wolfwood supposed not, human nature wouldn't change just because of a new planet just like that, no maybe because they were it was like a return to the primal selfishness that humanity had within them. To act otherwise was an active choice, and who would do so in favor of survival even at the cost of others?

Wolfwood reached around Vash and twisted until he could get both his arms securely around the blonde. With his grip sure, he tugged until he had pulled him over into his lap and, once sitting there with long legs awkwardly tucking up to trap Wolfwood's arm around his charge, he pressed Vash against his chest. 

“Wolfwood?”

“Hush. Just sit here.”

He did not. “Ever since we started traveling together, I imagined it would be you who finally killed me.”

“Needle Noggin,” he warned.

“Would you? Kill me?”

“Vash!”

“Please? When everything is said and done, would you do that for me?”

Wolfwood screwed his eyes tightly shut, hugging the man in his arms probably far too tight for any comfort but he was never told to stop. “NO! I WON’T! I DON’T WANT TO!”

Vash smiled, a hollow gesture that made Wolfwood feel nauseous.

“Is that how it is…”

“It is! That is how it fuckin’ is, because we’re gonna live through the end of this and then im dragging your ass to December with me even if its kicking and screaming. And when we’re there, you’re not leaving anywhere without me to make sure you don't get your stupid ass killed just like it has been! This is how it is now!” His voice was grit through teeth in a harsh snarl, he could feel his lips peeled back and something guttural threatening to tear through his throat. He exhaled heavily through his nose, trying to keep it at bay before pressing onwards.

“You’re gonna love those kids, and they’re gonna climb all over you and beat you up until you cry. Miss Melanie is going to constantly scold you and you’re gonna duck your head and give her that stupid smile every time and then you’re gonna help us take care of all of the little brats we end up with and when it's over every day we-we’ll…we’ll just….we’ll do it again the next day, and the day after that.”

Wolfwood was losing steam; he had never believed he’d get far enough really do all that, he never believed either of them would survive this stupid mission, but he couldn't listen to this being who radiated hope and love for humanity just…beg him so softly to be killed just so he could finally rest. He wouldn't take any part in a mercy killing, he was the punisher and that was the killing he would do. And Vash….Vash had been punished for living more than enough. And so he firmly painted this picture of a future he didn't ever think could be real, willing one of them to believe in it as he spoke and not caring much which of them it was. He told him about the kids he could recall being there when he left, all the stupid chore they’d both be sent to do every day, how shit the beds were in the room they’d inevitably share to keep as much space for the kids available, he told him what December was like, he just kept talking until he ran out of things he could put into words. 

He resisted the urge to pant, feeling out of breath from his nonstop rambling about a life he had never hoped for before this very moment. As he sat there, clinging and breathing and just feeling, he idly thought how the soup he’d put on the fire was certainly burned. They’d still eat it anyways, of course. Lost in his scattered thoughts, he almost missed the oh so small voice in his lap, but he was quick to whip around to look down at blonde spikes and imagine what startling blue eyes looked like.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

He felt a nod against his chest.

“That’s how it is now…” It felt less like a response for Wolfwood so much as feeling words in his mouth, but whether giving in as a defeat or genuine belief and acceptance, Wolfwood didn't care. He would cling to it as fiercely as he clung to their owner in his arms right now. 

Yes, Wolfwood was a coward.

He was painfully human.

And oh how selfish he was.

To cling to the very person he was to lead into death, to refuse him release even in the inevitability of both their horrible painful miserable ends. Playing roles in a story neither wanted to tell, they had no real choices before them did they? But even still, Wolfwood wouldn't let Vash just give up and leave him. He didn't allow it in Augusta, and he wouldn't now either, and to say it was for simply his orders and contract and not the memory of surprisingly soft hair against his skin and a too light body in his grip? 

Well that would make Wolfwood a liar too wouldn't it?

[thefanficmonster]

Wait a Minute

The Dooo x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Mentions of teenage pregnancy, Swearing

Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: While streaming with his friends, Dooo gets a surprise visitor who he hasn’t seen for quite some time - not really but even three days feel like a forever when parents are away from their children.

Requested by @nyctophiliiiiaaa  Hi darling! Thank you so much for your wonderful request and for introducing me to this amazing YouTuber/Streamer who is literally my spirit animal now XD Enjoy the fic! Love, Vy ❤

Note: Y/C/N - Your child’s name

The last three days have blended together in a blurry warp neither Dooo nor Y/N have been able to really process. Their home is quiet, too quiet, and these last few days have been way too calm and relaxed. It’s given them both the time to recharge their batteries and deal with the parent burnout that occurs when one needs to match a child’s energy almost 24/7. I mean sure, with Y/C/N now being twelve, the constant running around to make sure he doesn’t get hurt like a toddler would has lessened but he’s still one energetic kid that wants to involve his parents into everything.

And these last three days, Dooo and Y/N have been missing that greatly despite the satisfaction of being able to sit down to watch a movie and actually watch it or the ability to go to bed and actually sleep without the loud music or yelling coming from their son’s room. It’s been good, but it’s only good for so long - after a day and a half they were already starting to miss the little man.

Dooo has taken to streaming and practicing new riffs to get his mind off Y/C/N and his safety while Y/N is taking time to catch up with the work she hasn’t been able to do while helping her son with his homework. There’s a petty big disbalance in that area though - she’s got all the homework basis covered. From math and science to history and foreign languages while Dooo only helps with the music homework which Y/N can’t help with even if she wanted to. The only thing that evens it out is the fact that her husband does the other chores like cooking, setting up the table etc. while she is busying herself with her son’s homework, taking herself back to middle school.

And it boggles her brain to think that when she was Y/C/N’s age she was only four years away from getting pregnant with him.

“Bro, are you missing on purpose?!“ McNasty asks, or rather screams, into the mic at Dooo who really can’t be bothered to aim properly.

“Bro, are you distracting me on purpose?“ The accused retorts, finally being able to land a decent shot and get to safety before his own brains could get blown out.

“Are you two flirting on purpose?“ Soup interjects, pulling his own weight in the game unlike the distracted Dooo.

“I think they are. Guys, come on now, we’re playing Rainbow Six not a dating sim. Get it together!“ Blarg joins Soup’s neutral but mocking side of this ‘war‘ outside the game as the shootout continues.

“Since when do we need to be playing a dating sim for me to be able to flirt with McNasty. That’s like saying I need to marry him to sleep with him. I mean, I would marry him if I wasn’t already taken.“ Dooo casually says, shrugging his shoulders as his friends crack up.

“Taken? Taken as a fucking joke?“ Soup says, causing Blarg to laugh his lungs out twice as hard as he previously was.

Mocking joke at his expense or not, this manages to get Dooo doubling over with laugher too, “No...no *cackle* no, I was thinking more along the lines of...”

“Dad!“ The swinging of his office door comes sooner than the end of his sentence and Dooo finds himself tacked by the boy he swears was a whole foot or two shorter last week.

He swears he can remember holding him in his arms for the first time as though it was yesterday, how has there been twelve years from that moment till now he’ll never fathom.

“There’s my little man!“ Managing to stabilize his gamer chair back on all its legs, Dooo settles the boy in his lap like he’d do since the pediatrician told them it was ok for them to sit him down, aka when Y/C/N was only a year old. Back then he’d do it so the two could watch TV together or so he could hold the guitar as if he was teaching his son the ropes too. Y/N was fretting over school and also found a job, leaving her boyfriend with the baby most of the time but being a super affectionate mother every moment she got to spend with the little boy. When Y/C/N turned four, and when Dooo started streaming, he’d have his best friend accompany him on the streams, instructing the little guy to be quiet as he sat in his dad’s lap, mesmerized by the games on the screen before him. Afterwards he’d ask a ton of questions and retell it all to Y/N at the dinner table when she got back from work.

Seems like not much has changed since then, except maybe that their baby boy isn’t so much a baby anymore.

“I’m not a little man, dad! I’m not two!“ The kid complains but just about that nickname. Seems like he too misses enjoying the games his dad plays like he did as a toddler since he rarely has the time to do that nowadays.

“No, you’re not.“ Says Dooo seriously, “Back then you were a mini man. Now you’re a little man, and you will continue being one till you’re eighteen. That’s when you’ll lose the ‘little’ and be just a man. A grown-ass man.“

“How’s that fair?!“ The boy complains but freezes up when another voice, a more authoritative one, enters their bubble.

“Dooo, honey, how many times do I need to warn you about cursing in front of Y/C/N.“ While stern, Y/N’s tone is still playful, inviting smiles on both the man and the little man’s faces.

“Ass isn’t a curse word. Just a part of the body.“ The twelve-year-old explains as he approaches his mom, hugging her once again since he’s returned but this time more with the intention of getting his dad out of trouble.

“And here I thought we’ll be making cookies together later. Guess not.“ The woman shrugs too casually in contrast to the boy’s dramatic reaction. Y/C/N immediately lets go of her and takes off running down the hall.

“I’ll get my apron on!“ He calls back in the midst of his run, cracking up both his parents.

Y/N shakes her head, turning to her husband, “Well I better go put mine on too. You carry on with...that.” She points at his screen before turning on her heel to leave the room. Foolish of her to think he’d let her.

Dooo wheels his chair to her, taking a gentle hold of her arm before she could get far, “Nah, I don’t think so, hun. There are the confused-ass men in my headphones and a bunch of people watching who’d like an explanation to what just happened.” Seeing her shrug her shoulders, he takes it as an act of surrender, so he takes the opportunity to yank her to him, causing her to squeal as she lands in his lap. She sends a frown his way but he gets rid of it quickly as he tickles her sides, causing her to giggle, “I need ‘em to know that I’m taken in more ways than as a joke.”

With that, he doesn’t allow her to interject with anything sarcastic because he rips the headphones out of the speakers, allowing the confusion in the call to seep into the room.

“McNasty, Soup and Blarg, this is my wife and the mother of our child, Y/N. And yes, she does take me as a joke sometimes but I did take her hand in marriage, so that’s the only thing that fucking matters.“

There’s a brief moment of silence before Blarg quirks up, opening the gates for the other two to speak up as well.

“Wait a minute, you’re married?!“

Soup follows suit, “You have a kid together?!”

And then McNasty, “Wait a minute, YOU’RE NOT A VIRGIN?”

The two cackle, never taking their eyes off one another as they silently agree on who answers what.

Dooo takes the first question, “Yes, we are married. We have been for six years now.”

Y/N takes the second, “We do! We’ve had the little rascal since we were sixteen actually. A little mishap as a result of lack of sex education and a ton of recklessness on our part. But one we do not regret. Yeah we were dumbasses at the time, we still aren’t much older mentally, but we raised a good young man, I’d say. And let me tell you, Y/C/N, is Dooo Junior. Like a mini version of his dad.”

“I’m really sorry for you.“ Blarg says, still very much flabbergasted, “One Dooo is more than enough. Oh and it’s really nice to meet you, Y/N. Always great to have another member to the ‘Mock The Dooo’ club.“

Soup agrees, “Yeah, it’s great to meet you. And congratulations on...well, everything! Your son, the marriage, the whole nine yards. And now your membership in our club.”

The woman giggle, jumping at the feeling of her sides getting tickled again but Dooo prevents her from running away, “Pleasure to be here. Do you guys have cookies or something?“

“Didn’t you say you would be baking them? We’ll bring beer tho!“ Soup offers helpfully, “No, no, on second thought scratch that, cookies and beer doesn’t sound good at all.“

This gets everyone to laugh once again, everyone except McNasty who’s been hella quiet. Dooo immediately notices.

“McNasty, you alive over there? You good, bro?“ He asks, half genuinely concerned and half very fucking smug and amused. Let’s be honest, everyone would be this smug if they just laid a bomb like that on their friends.

“He’s muted on Discord. Hold on, let me unmute him.“ Blarg says and not a moment later they hear....

“CHAT, THEDOOO ISN’T A VIRGIN! Holy shit! I repeat: THEDOO IS NOT A VIRGIN!!!“

[fangurk]

She’s Always There (Paul Lahote x Reader)

Key:

Y/n: Your Name

Y/l/n: Your Last Name

Y/n/n: Your Nickname

Y/e/c: Your Eye Color

Y/h/c: Your Hair Color

Prompt Given To Me By @ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhghhhh.tumblr.com: hey!! so the reason I'm messaging is because I wanted to request something but can't fit it all into an ask lmao. anyways could i please request a Paul Lahote x reader where the reader has been super close to the whole pack for years and has been Paul's imprint but doesn't know it (bc Sam thought it would be best to keep u away from it all) and they decide to finally tell you about being shapeshifters and being Paul's imprint and you're so mad about them not telling u earlier and there's a huge argument and they and Paul tries to calm you down but you say stuff like 'leave me alone' and things like that and it sounds like you're rejecting him/the bond in ur angry breakdown. anyways Paul is heartbroken and can't get out of bed or eat or anything so the guys finally convince you to come back bc they and Paul need you and it's just the reader cuddling with him and getting him out of bed to take a shower and eat and he realizes that you're not going anywhere and it's just like healing the imprint bond? sorry for this WALL of text, I've just had this idea stuck in my head for a while lol. if you don't want to do it, that's completely fine!! thank you for your time ♡

ok so my guy,, bc this fic has been stuck in my head for a bit, some scenes have developed? so idk i hope this isn't too much, but if u do write it, would u be willing to add like some angst to it, obvi, and maybe a scene/part lol where when the reader tries to get him to shower (bc the misinterpreted rejection made him like super depressed and he just felt low about himself) he won't shower, because he doesn't want to come out and the reader is gone. so either they shower together (not smutty just angst&fluff) or she sits like in the bathroom while he showers LOL. and when he feels a bit better, they go down to eat and he's touching some part of her at all times. if this is too much to like,, include then that's a-okay. i just need to get this OUT of my MIND ugh lmao!/!

Reader Gender: Female

Summary: The Reader has been friends with most of the pack members for her whole life. Which is why, after months of silence and strange changes, she was willing to let them back into her life— until she finds out she’s been told lies that leave her in danger, of course. After a big freak out and two weeks of avoiding them, the boys come begging for her help; it turns out that Paul has some wolf-y claim on her, and whatever she said to him has left him worse for wear...

Warnings: Mentions of Depression, Nudity, Angst, and Cursing.

A/n: this is literally like a whole novel I’m so sorry I got carried away. this is kinda based on a lot of fics I read where the imprint has the potential to really hurt people and I named Paul’s dad.

Word Count: 2.9k+

“The legends are real!?”

Y/n Y/l/n hasn’t ever been so disturbed in her entire life.

After weeks of radio silence, Sam Uley’s little ‘gang’, mostly consisting of people she’d known since childhood, had slowly trickled back into her life. What started as a grocery run with Paul or a movie with Jared had turned into big bonfire parties including Jacob Black and his gaggle.

But that was months ago. Months. And now, as she sits by a fire, surrounded on either side by them, they decide to tell her their little secret?

“Y/n.” Sam says as she abruptly stands, eyes stern and hand raised placatingly.

His actions only served to upset her more and her skin bristles with irritation. Sam was acting as if she, a human surrounded by shape shifters, was the unstable one. As if she could do any damage to things built to kill vampires.

“Don’t you dare, Sam.” She clenches her fists, glaring right back at him. “It’s been months- months- and you’re telling me now?”

“It’s not exactly an easy thing to bring up.” He reasons, voice a little less demanding. “We all wanted to be sure that you were ready to know.”

“Ready?!” Y/n laughs mirthlessly, y/e/c eyes wide with disbelief, “When was I supposed to be ready Sam? W-when one of you gored me? When a cold one ripped me apart?”

Her hands shake as she puts them on her forehead, blinking back tears. Growing up all she’d ever heard were stories of humans getting dragged into fights between wolf and vampire, and she couldn’t bring herself to look Emily in the eye because it was suddenly apparent that wolves alone could hurt people too.

It was so bad, whatever happened to Emily, that they said a bear mauled her— Y/n didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“It’s not like that, Y/n/n.” Embry chimes in, reaching out to grab his friend's arm.

She yanks her body out of the way and gathers her belongings quickly.

“What is it like then, Call?” She holds her bag to her heaving chest, “because it seems to me that you all have the ability to turn into giant, slobbery freaks that are built for killing vampires and, after completely dropping me for weeks, you decided to keep it secret from me for months. Did it even occur to you that I would’ve been better off knowing right off the bat?!”

No one says anything. Eight shifters and two of their girlfriends sit there, just staring at her like she was speaking a different language.

“You know,” Y/n has to clear her throat to steady her wavering voice, “had you guys really been souped-up on drugs like everyone says, maybe I could’ve handled the lying. But my life was clearly potentially in danger, and you let me hang around without saying anything. I- God I don’t want to see you people right now.”

She leaves with that, stepping over logs and storming back down the beach with determination. Faintly over the roar of her heartbeat, she can hear someone scrambling to stand behind her.

“Wait!— shit, sorry-” Paul grunts, jogging to catch up with her- “Y/n-“

With an unusual gentleness, his warm hand wrapped around her forearm. For a moment, deep in the back of her mind, a foreign feeling tells her to stop, to listen; but that small voice is quickly smothered by the rational part of her brain, and she wrenches her arm from his grip.

“Don’t touch me!” She snaps, lowering her voice, “Leave me alone- I need to be alone.”

Paul stands there, dumbstruck, an unreadable look in his eyes as she walks away. And he’d continue to stand there, looking like a kicked puppy long after her retreating form became a blur amongst the darkness of the beach.

“Paul?” Sam is hesitant, hand hovering over the younger boy’s shoulder a minute before he touches him, “You okay?”

Shrugging his leader’s arm off his shoulder, Paul sighs. “No...I...I’m just gonna head home.”

Instead of going in the directions of the cars, the wolf stalks off toward the woods; Emily stands from her seat, wrapping her sweater more around herself as she watches Paul leave. Concern is written all over her features.

“He’ll be fine, Em,” He pulls her in for a hug, “it’ll all work out eventually.”

ஓ๑♡๑ஓ

Y/n does a good job of avoiding them for a while.

She turns her phone off a few days in and avoids going to First Beach, even when Washington gets a rare, warm summer feel. Books that have sat long forgotten on her shelves get read and TV shows she’s always meant to catch up on get watched; it’s boring and she runs out of options, at one point thinking of dying her hair y/f/c just to spice things up, but it allows her to think. (Or at least it allows this strange little voice in the back of her head to tell her that she needs to go back to them.)

The next time she sees any of the boys is exactly two weeks after the bonfire incident.

She’s curled up on her couch, picking at some of the Clearwaters’ fish fry and barely watching an episode of ANTM, when a fist comes banging down on her door. Turning off the TV, she tiptoes to the window, peeking under the curtain as carefully as she can.

As she expected, Jared Cameron and Embry Call are on her porch, the former standing in front of her door with his hip cocked, the other rooting around in her mother’s plants for something. Cringing, she hopes if she’s quiet enough that they’ll just go away.

Her front door opens within minutes, however, and she realizes her hoping is fruitless.

Should’ve known you can’t hide from wolves, she can’t help but think bitterly.

“Y/n?” Jared calls out through the house, “we know you’re here.”

“Yeah, and you guys should probably move your spare key,” Embry tacks on, flicking the light switch to the living room up, “I've known you forever and it’s still in the same place.”

From her spot by the window, the y/h/c haired girl glares at the two boys, arms crossed over her chest. Embry gives her a lopsided grin and holds the key out to her, his bud plopping down on the couch and pulling her abandoned plate into his lap.

Y/n extends a hand to take the key.

“Has it really been in the same place?” She sounds a little more defeated than she’d like.

“Yeah, it’s always been in your mother’s cornflower pot.”

“That’s...kinda sad.” She wrinkles her nose, pocketing the key with the intention to hide it better later, “but uh, I’ve been ignoring you for two weeks for a reason. Peacefully breaking into my house kinda furthers my need for space.”

Embry scratches the back of his neck.

“Well,” He says, “we need you to come back, man. Paul won’t talk to anyone- Sam doesn’t know if he’s eating, and he won’t even get out of bed for patrol! He needs his imprint-”

“His what?” She cocks her head to the side and Jared snorts from the couch.

“She left before we got there, nimrod,” Jared mocks through a mouthful of food, “she doesn’t know what an imprint is.”

He lets out an indignant “Hey!” as Y/n walks by, snatching her plate back from him on her way to the kitchen. Embry chases after her, a grumpy Jared jumping up from the couch to follow.

“You’re his imprint— you’re basically his soulmate!”

“Really?” She says warily, sealing the fish and putting it back in the fridge.

Both boys nod clumsily.

“You remember a few weeks ago when you saw each other for the first time again and he kinda just stood there like an idiot while you talked?”

“Yeah? Oh!-” She brings her hands up to her mouth, brows furrowed as she recalls.

It was exactly Jared had said. She and Paul had seen one another for the first time in a long time and the minute her y/e/c eyes looked into his, it was like he’d been struck dumb.

Embry gives her an encouraging look, “An imprint is...It's not like love at first sight, really. It's more like… gravity moves… suddenly. It's not the earth holding you here anymore, she does… You become whatever she needs you to be, whether that's a protector, or a lover, or a friend. When you snapped at him last week he thought you were rejecting him….”

A part of her thought about how absurd it was that he knew that whole speech. But the bigger part of her came to a realization that made her stomach churn.

“So he's all depressed… because… of me?” She whispers, leaning back on the counter.

Embry, always a rather sympathetic person, opens his mouth to comfort her, but Jared cuts him off.

“Basically. So are you going to come with us so we can help Paul or are you going to continue being petty?”

In any other circumstance, Y/n probably would’ve thrown something at her for calling her petty. She felt she was completely justified in her actions. A part of her wonders if she can really believe them— they’d spent months lying to her after all. But a larger part thinks about Paul, curled up in his bed, slowly desecrating because he thinks she rejected him.

If it were really all some ploy to get her to listen to them, then she’d at least be the person who chose the well-being of her friend over a petty disagreement.

“I’m coming.” She affirms, pushing herself off the counter, and letting the boys lead her to the car.

ஓ๑♡๑ஓ

Jared and Embry drop her off in front of the Lahote household. They tell her something but she can’t really hear them over her heartbeat, she doesn’t even know they’re gone until it’s too late to turn back.

Getting into the house wasn’t the hard part. Paul’s father, Cyrus, had been leaving as she arrived, and, after he watched her stare at the house with a fearful expression for a few minutes, he happily let her in. The hard part was willing her legs to take her up the stairs to Paul’s room, and then it was opening his bedroom door.

Y/n has known Paul since they were eight, but she was afraid of him until they were eleven. He wasn’t mean, per se, but his anger made him do mean things; she wasn’t entirely happy with puberty and it’s monthly gifts, but whatever it did to make her suddenly un-afraid of him she was grateful for. But now, standing in front of his bedroom door, she had a nagging fear that Paul would revert to that eight year old boy who threw lunch boxes and twisted arms behind backs until people cried.

The door creaks slightly as she struggles to push it open.

His room is almost completely dark except for the light coming from the hallway behind her. Trash and dirty clothes have formed a compact layer on his bedroom floor, foot sized holes leading up to the twin sized bed in the corner. On the bed, amongst the blankets she’s sure he doesn’t need, is Paul— or at least, a Paul sized lump.

As gross as it is, she’s kind of relieved he’s been eating.

“Paul?” She whispers tentatively, stepping toward the bed.

The lump flinches and turns toward her.

“Y/n?”

If the room and the description of his state weren’t heartbreaking enough, his voice definitely was. Hollow, rough, and small, everything it never was, everything Paul wasn’t.

“Is that you?”

“Yeah...it’s me..”

She carefully steps over to the bed, and Paul slowly sits up, pushing his blankets to the side. There’s a beat of silence as she stands between his legs, his reluctant hands coming to rest on her waist after a minute. Y/n let’s him have another to gather his thoughts.

“You really came…” Tears well up in his eyes and loops his arms around her back.

She runs a hand through his hair. “I did, and I’m so sorry, if I had known—”

Paul nuzzles her stomach, “S’fine, you didn’t know, and you’re here now.”

There’s a sort of cute, euphoria lacing his voice and he’s visibly much more relaxed.

“Just don’t ever say that again…”

“I won’t, I promise.”

She’s surprised when he manhandles her into his lap, but she doesn’t really mind. He’s warm and strangely familiar and something about it just— clicks.

“When was the last time you spent, I dunno, a minute or two out of your room?” Y/n asks softly, y/e/c eyes glancing about the room.

The shifter’s only response is a shrug, too busy nosing around her neck with vigor. When he finds a certain spot, it makes her squeak, and this seems to excite him like a puppy finding out its favorite toy makes noise.

“You need to bathe, eat something substantial,” She intertwines their fingers, “and the...pack...they’re really worried about you— are you even listening to me?”

He looks up at her then and flashes her a sheepish smile, answering her question. Pursing her lips, she pulls his arms from around her.

“C’mon, Paul.” She stands up and takes his hand. “We’re gonna get you cleaned up.”

She moves toward the door, urging him forward, only to be jerked to a stop as he stays put. He looks a little distressed when she turns back to him, brows furrowed, almost like he’s in pain.

“Paul?”

He grunts, jaw clenched as the cogs turn in his head. Y/n cocks her head and reaches out for his other hand. It felt like some sort of supernatural intuition, one she’ll blame on the imprint and ask Emily about later.

“Paul, hon, why won’t you come shower?”

“I’m afraid you'll leave,” He says bashfully, “it’s stupid, I know, but part of me is afraid you’ll leave while I’m in the shower.”

Y/n couldn’t help but feel a little heartbroken at his confession. Paul was part wolf, and part of being part wolf was imprinting— she almost wishes she’d have stayed long enough to listen, or been able to focus as the boys debriefed her on the ride over because only being able to speculate how much she’d actually hurt him was eating her alive. He wouldn’t even shower, something he desperately needed to do, because of what she’d said.

Taking a deep breath, she barely registers the words she’s about to say.

“I’ll wait with you, I’ll sit on the toilet, you’ll see me there.”

And true to her word, Y/n does sit on the toilet while Paul showers, reading the information on soap bottles to distract herself from the fact that he was there next to her, very naked. Occasionally he asks her what she’s doing, and she reads the ingredients out loud to the best of her ability, and he laughs a little— she tries to hide her smile, but she was too happy he was laughing.

She closes her eyes when he gets out, letting him dry himself off and pull on some clean shorts. He throws the wet towel at her when he’s done, eliciting a “Hey!” that makes him laugh again.

Now that he’s clean, the two of them descend into his quiet house. Y/n navigates the kitchen, her wolf attached to her hip and being less than helpful, and makes them both something to eat— he doesn’t do much more than stand behind her, wrapped around her, making her life more difficult.

“I’m so happy you came back.” He says, watching her work.

“I was always going to.” Y/n responds, her voice sure and steady.

They talk as they eat, sitting across from one another at the too big table in the Lahote household. Talk about how this was going to work, admitting feelings that always lingered, and everything in between; she hooks her leg around his, watching him scarf down his meal with a wrinkled nose and fondness glittering in her y/e/c eyes.

He’s...gross...but he’s hers, she’s kind of stuck with him.

A date is planned. An actual date.

Paul promises to take her to the local diner (and to wear a shirt, for once.)

“I’ve been saving up for something like this.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and you can get that dessert you like.”

Y/n laughs softly, but heat spreads up her neck and settles in her ears and cheeks. It’d been a long time since that had been her favorite food, but it was the thought that counted...

When Cyrus Lahote returns from work later that night his son and the Y/l/n girl are awkwardly situated on his couch— him on his back, snoring, her lying on top of him, face tucked into his neck, also fast asleep. The older man turns off the TV and tosses a blanket over the pair, ascending up the stairs with a smile on his face.

Y/n Y/l/n was trustworthy. She’s always there when Paul is in a rut too big for him to handle...

[monsterenergysimp]

Permanence

corpse husband x fem!reader 

summary: you meet corpse on a stream and you’re surprised when he reaches out to you 

warnings: cursing, mentions of tattooing

word count: 1.9k

notes: This is proof read but could have missed some stuff. This is my first corpse fic and my first time writing fanfic since I posted that super cringey book on wattpad when I was like 12 or something. I’d appreciate feed back so please reach out to me :)

main blog @itsmysleepover

read part 2 here!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You were cleaning up your station so you can get home and stream. You loved your day job as a tattoo artist but you also really enjoyed streaming. It started as a way to promote yourself as an artist and the shop you worked at but it eventually became a really fun way to destress at the end of the week (or day if you were really itching to stream). “Hey Y/N was that your last client?” your boss, KC, asked as she walked to the front of the shop and put new flash drawings on the walls.

“Yes ma’am!” You said back excitedly. You finished cleaning your station and tossed your black gloves in the trash. “And you can’t trick me into staying and taking walk-ins,” you joked with her. She rolled her eyes and walked back into her office “It was one time,” she said as you slid on your jacket. As you walked out your phone buzzed in your pocket and you checked to see who had texted you. It was a message from Sean asking if you were free to play Among Us with him and some other streamers. You replied that you were on your way home right now and totally down. You were excited to see who was playing this time around since their Among Us streams are super entertaining and have gotten really popular.

On your way back you tweeted and posted to your Instagram story that you’d be streaming soon and set up all your stuff once you made it home. After a few minutes, you had a couple of thousand people watching. You entered the discord chat and Sean spoke up. “Everyone this is Y/N she’s sensitive so be gentle.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you guys and I’m not gentle, I'm ruthless,” You say into your mic and notice the chat calling you a liar. Everyone was in the lobby waiting for the game to start. “You sound way too sweet to be ruthless,” Corpse said. The countdown started and you were imposter with Charlie.

“This should be fun,” you told the stream. Yout tried playing strategically but after such a long shift your brain was mush. You saw Poki in nav and killed her then vented into shields. Not long after the body was reported and you were sure you were going to get voted out or at least sussed.

“Where was the body?” Felix asked. “Nav and I didn’t see anyone near there so whoever is imposter must have vented,” Corpse responded. Felix spoke up again. “I think I saw Y/N walk that way and I haven’t seen her since.”

Shit, shit, shit shit. “I’m in shield right now so-” you said trying to defend yourself but Charlie spoke up. “I was doing tasks with her earlier and I saw her walk into shields so she’s safe but I’m still not sure about Rae.” Everyone discussed a bit more and some people, including Corpse, voted for you but Rae got the majority vote and was ejected. You released your breath and kept playing being extra careful.  

“Okay, guys that was super close. Corpse knows and is out to get me,” you said to the chat. You were eventually voted off but one round later victory was written across your screen with your ghost and Charlie’s avatar. “Good game guys,” Corpse said.

“I told you guys I was ruthless!”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You sat at your station doing nothing because a client had canceled a four-hour session. You were listening to music and sketching some stuff but you were bored out of your mind and you didn’t want to leave in case you got a walk-in. The music got quiet as you received a twitter notification saying someone had messaged you. You reached for your phone and saw you had gotten a dm from Corpse.

C: hey :)

You didn’t know what to respond. You were mostly confused as to why he decided to message you out of the blue. Did he want something? But what would he want?

Y: Hii! This is sudden

C: was i bothering you?

    shit sorry!

Y: Youre fine I wasn’t doing anything rn

C: how has your day been

    i dont usually do stuff like this

Y: Im glad you did im doing better now I was so bored

C: what were you doing that was so terrible

Y: NOTHING! thats the problem :(

C: im sure youll find something to do

You stared at his message. Unsure what to respond.

Y: Im gonna give myself a tattoo

C: what?

    NO!

You tossed the needles you used for your tattoo into the sharps box. “Oh my god you didn’t,” KC said. She noticed the wrap on your calve from the tattoo you just gave yourself out of boredom. “It’s not my fault I didn’t have anything else to do!” You said trying to defend yourself. She sighed and just shook her head. “Just go home business is slow today.” It was raining so the shop probably wasn’t going to get a walk-in anyway and you didn’t have any more clients for the day. It was only 2 pm but you drove home and after making lunch for yourself decided to stream. You weren’t expecting too many people so it was bound to be super chill. Your leg felt sore reminding you of the tattoo. You snapped a quick pic of the fresh jack-o-lantern on the side of your calve and messaged it to Corpse.

Y: [image] it came out nice!

C: thats  super cool actually

    i was concerned why you would just give yourself a tattoo but i found your instagram and       youre super talented

Y: Thank you!

For some reason, it felt strange to just have that be the end of your response.

Y: Im about to start streaming if you wanted to watch

    [link]

C: ill be watching ;)

What’s that supposed to mean?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You sat in your apartment watching tv, hand lost in a bag of Doritos, and scrolling through twitter. You had stopped paying attention to the anime playing on the screen since you’ve watched it a hundred times and knew you wouldn’t miss anything. It was Saturday and you usually take those days off. Take the time to do chores or meet up with some friends but today you felt like not doing any of those things. As you continue your endless scroll (not helping the twitter addiction you told yourself you’d try to get a handle on) you got a message from Corpse.

C: wanna talk?

You looked down at the message unsure of how to answer. It was a simple yes or no and the obvious answer was yes. You and Corpse had started talking more regularly. You still didn’t have each other’s phone numbers but it was fine. Your conversations weren’t too big-- just you sending him memes, tiktoks, and telling him how much you liked the songs he would drop. Or him complimenting a tattoo you did. Sometimes he’d message you during streams telling you funny stuff his fans would say in the chat and you’d do the same. You learned a bit about each other but nothing too deep or serious. Like how you two lived a few cities away and you both really liked Donnie Darko. When Sean first invited you to that game out of everyone else there you were most excited to meet Corpse. He’s just so sweet and funny. Of course, you’d love to talk to him but you were also itching to talk to him and the last thing you’d ever want to do was make him uncomfortable.

Y: Yeah id love to talk

Here goes nothing.

Y: Wanna facetime or something?

     No pressure or anything it could even be a regular call

     I think facetime is just my default lol

You sent those last two messages quickly after you had sent the first. You wished you could know what he was thinking. It was killing you to think you had turned him off from talking to you completely. You put your phone down on the couch and went to wash your hand of Dorito dust. When you got back from the kitchen you turned off the tv and tossed yourself onto the couch.

Still no message.

Why am I so fucking stupid?  

Just as you were standing up to stretch from sitting on the couch all day your phone buzzed. You reached for it fast and looked to see that it was him. You became super excited still not even knowing what the message said. It could have told you to never talk to him again for all you knew.

C: sure lets facetime

    xxx-xxx-xxxx

You had his phone number. You added him to your small but growing contact list and called. You sat on your couch waiting for a response when he finally picked up the screen was black. It didn’t upset you; you kind of expected it and didn’t care what he had to do to make himself more comfortable during this call.

“Hey,” he said. His voice was raspier than usual.

“Did you just wake up?” You asked and looked at the time. It was about a little past noon and you had only eaten Doritos all day. Shit, you should probably make a decent meal.

“Not that long ago but yeah,” he responded and giggled. That giggle.

“Well, I’ve eaten nothing but Doritos all day while rewatching Ouran High School Host Club, so you’re welcome to join me as I make myself something to eat.”

“Sounds like fun; what are we eating?”

“I don’t know yet,” You said as you stood up and made your way to the kitchen. You opened the pantry and looked. You noticed a can of diced tomatoes and reached for it then checked the expiration date. It was still good. On your counter were some onions and garlic. “How about some tomato soup?”

“Sounds delicious.” you smiled at Corpse and your phone screen not knowing if he was also looking at his screen or not. “You’re really pretty-- you know that?”

“Thanks, but you don’t have to--”

“I’ve already told you what an incredible artist you are so many times I bet you’re tired of hearing it, but you already know what a talented artist you are.”

“That is very kind of you Corpse,” you said to him bashfully as you chopped the onion and opened the can of tomatoes. “But once again you don’t have to reach so far to compliment me.”

“I’m not reaching you are talented and beautiful and--”

“I thought I was pretty.” You could hear him chuckle with a smile on his face. “You’re both,” he said. You could feel your face getting warm from blushing.

“Fuck you you’re making me blush. My face is all hot and stuff.”

He laughed at how flustered you got. “That’s the cutest thing ever.”

You didn’t know how to respond so you just put some olive oil in a pot and tossed in your onions. It became silent but it was a comfortable silence. You turned the stove on and watched the flame for a few seconds. “If it was dark we could pretend we were together and having a bonfire or something,” you said to the phone as you turned the camera to show him the flame (still not 100 percent sure if he was looking at you or not).

“I’ll put it on the list of things to do when you visit me someday.”

[thera-daydreams]

INDAY

± A Trese Fic ±

[Crispin/Basilio/Maliksi/Dominic x Skymaiden!Reader]

01: Noon at Ngayon (✓)

02: Ang Kambal na Anak ni Datu Talagbusao, Diyos ng Digmaan (Link)

03: Ang Prinsipe ng Mga Tikbalang (Link)

04: Ang Pinuno ng Mga Aswang (Link)

05: (Link) 06: (Link) 07: (Link)

01: Noon at Ngayon

Back then, long before you were born, your mother used to work as a katulong of the Trese Family and was very close to its matriarch, Miranda Trese. Coming from the province, she was no stranger to superstitions—even more so after knowing the work of Miranda's husband Anton Trese, who was actually the Babaylan-Mandirigma of Manila.

Years later, after giving birth to you around the same time Miranda gave birth to her twins (one a stillborn, unfortunately), it was you and Alexandra who became best buddies instead, as different your personalities were. You two had practically grown up together and you yourself heard countless stories of the supernatural from your Tito Anton. It wasn't that hard to believe when he and his sigbin companions would sometimes come home tracking blood prints on the floors (which you'd helped your mother clean up). Heck, you'd even met Señor Armanaz, the Great Stallion himself and the ruling tikbalang of the Armanaz herd. That pretty, white-haired diwata seemed extremely fond of you, too, which was evident when you'd sneak in with Alexandra to Tito Anton's meetings and she would smile (even wave) at you happily.

You had absolutely no idea why the fae-like lady was so nice to you, but you weren't complaining at all!

However, in spite of your experiences with the supernatural, you and your mother always believed that you were normal humans. In actuality, that was who you were for the majority of your childhood. It was only until Miranda herself saw a vision of you—a much older you—fighting the monsters of the Underworld alongside her own daughter. During dinnertime, Miranda told your mother that she saw you blessed by the heavens with powers that would aid in the battle against evil.

It sounded absolutely ridiculous, right? Yeah, your mom thought so, too.

Your mother only laughed it off as she placed a steaming bowl of tinola in front of Alexandra's brothers, who instantly dug in like they haven't been fed in years.

"Boys! Dahan-dahan lang," Anton reprimanded his sons. "Or else you'll choke and the soup will come out of your noses!"

"Okay, Papa."

"Grabe ka naman, Miranda. I doubt that anything like that's going to happen to my daughter," your mom chuckled, watching your little hands try to feed Alexandra with a piece of chicken. "Unlike you guys, our lineage isn't anything special. Ordinaryo lang ang lahi namin."

Miranda sighed, looking at you and her only living daughter enjoying your time being kids, "I guess you're right. Baka panaginip lang talaga 'yun."

Anton glanced at her knowingly. Although he was aware that you and your mom didn't dabble in magic or anything like they did, he knew that whenever Miranda—one of the Seven Seers—had such vivid dreams, it was something of great importance. But he decided to say nothing, understanding how much your mother wanted to let you live as normal of a life possible in this household.

That was when you were seven years old. One year later, Miranda died fighting against a group of aswang who decided to betray Anton. Said man found the eight-year-old Alexandra hiding in a corner behind the waterfalls, scared and holding Sinag close to her heaving chest as she tried to hold her tearful sobs in.

Of course, a few days later, you and your mother attended the funeral with the mourning Trese family. All the brothers had done their best to stay strong, especially for their little sister who didn't fully understand yet what just happened. Little you ran towards Alexandra, holding her hand tightly as her mother's casket was lowered. Around you were various comrades, both human and non-human, paying their respects to their bereaved allies.

That day, as you turned your back to return to your mother's arms, you knew you would never forget the feeling of numerous unearthly eyes following your every movement.

Even they could sense that there was something about you, a so-called regular human child. You smelled human and had the aura of one, but there was something they couldn't place. It was like a tiny rock getting into your shoe, not coming out at all.

Much changed after that, but you and Alexandra remained close together. To your dismay, just after you graduated elementary, you and your mother had to move back to the province to stay with your sick grandparents. The last thing you could remember was kneeling in the back of the car, looking sadly through the rear windscreen as Alexandra and her brothers waved goodbye to you.

More than a decade had passed since then. You used to write letters to Alexandra, but after Hank told you she had to undergo the trials of the Puno ng Balete, you haven't heard from her (although Hank did disclose that she'd managed to come home safely, which was a great relief to you). You didn't blame her; you knew Tito Anton had passed away in the five years she was gone and that she had to take over the title of Lakan, as well as the Babaylan-Mandirigma of Manila. It was a demanding job! You remembered Tito Anton sometimes staying up all night—breakfast would be served and he would still be in his study, going over paperwork. On other days, he would be gone for consecutive nights handling cases all around Manila. You could only pray Alexandra was fine.

Your life had continued on, as well—you took care of your ill grandparents until they died, helped your mother in the province, went to a good highschool, then earned your degree in another prominent city that wasn't Manila.

Your mom actually recommended that you go to school somewhere else, given the constantly rising number of attacks in the capital of the country. And so you did. Life was hard, but normal until then.

The funny thing was that, when you reached the age of twenty-one, you finally understood why those supernatural creatures kept looking at you weirdly as a kid (and why Lady Diwata liked you so much).

What was even funnier was that the dramatic revelation came to you when you weren't in the Philippines. It was after you freshly graduated college, when you were traveling all over Asia to volunteer in charity projects. It was always your dream to one day expand your horizons not only beyond your province, but the Philippines itself, while also doing good in the world.

And here you were, walking that path you dreamt of.

The organization you luckily managed to become a member of provided everything you needed, and every few months, you would move from country to country. Because of that, you'd already been able to travel to so many places. First it was Thailand, then Indonesia, China, South Korea, India, Japan, Sri Lanka, Singapore, Malaysia, and currently, you were in Vietnam. Visiting those places was fun and gave you a whole new perspective of the world you lived in; it was a... learning experience, too.

Still, that incident happened when you were in Thailand, when you were the last one in the rented apartment balcony taping up the boxes for the donation drive tomorrow. Yawning, you cut more duct tape and stuck them to the open boxes tightly.

"Inday," someone said from behind you. You didn't bother turning around, thinking it was one of your fellow volunteers looking for you this late at night. Probably your roommate. She was the only one who usually called you by your nickname instead of your real name.

"Hmm?" you hummed, taping up more boxes. "Papasok na ako sa kwarto, Lyn. I just have a few more boxes to close. Alam mong mapapagalitan ako kung may hindi madidistribute bukas."

"Hindi ako si Lyn."

You paused, then slowly turned around, flinching at the sudden bright light that shone right against your eyes. For a moment, akala mo namatay ka na at hinaharap mo si San Pedro.

It was a glowing figure in white whose face you couldn't clearly see, which frightened you even more.

"Ay, mama!" you exclaimed, shielding your eyes and falling to your knees. Then, you gasped loudly, patting your body and panicking with closed lids. "Oh my God, am I dead? Nasa heaven na po ba ako?" Your lips wobbled. "Ngayon pa nga lang ako nakaalis ng Pilipinas... I haven't even done all the things I've wanted to do! Hindi pa ako nakapagpaalam sa nanay ko—aray!"

You'd felt something hit the back of your head. Hard. It was the glowing figure in white, but now you could see their unimpressed face scowling at you.

"Kalma lang, Inday. Hindi ka pa patay, pero makinig ka nang mabuti," they shushed you urgently (you weren't sure if they were male or female). "Do not be afraid. I am a messenger from the heavens, and I bear great news!"

"Great news...?" you trailed off, then your eyes widened excitedly. "Like, nanalo ba ako ng lotto? Isang milyon? Bilyon? Hala! Wait, is this a Mama Mary moment? I'm not ready to be the next immaculate conception!"

They glared at you, making you shut up instantly. "Sorry, I'll shut up now," you apologized with a mumble. This person (thing?) was kind of... strict. Whatever did you do wrong? You were just sleep-deprived and running on energy drinks (as well as kape).

"I have come to tell you that you are the vessel of the last skymaiden," they revealed, arms wide open. The light around them seemed to grow even brighter, making you squint. You felt like you were about the go blind! "Ikaw ang huling biraddali, Y/N L/N."

At ayun, zero brain cells remaining. Tunay na nagloading screen ang brain mo. Nag-error at nagcrash pa nga siguro, eh.

"... Ha? Ano?"

You blinked, completely speechless—as seen by how wide your jaw had dropped open. It wasn't that you were unfamiliar with the biraddali, it was just that you'd only heard of them once when you were just a young child. Your Tita Miranda had mentioned they were long gone from the world of the supernatural.

"Oh no, me? A biraddali? You're joking," you stuttered out, pointing at yourself. "Aren't they extinct or something? And, uh... not human?"

They nodded, "Yes. It is correct that everyone in the mystical world thought that the biraddali were long gone, even before the colonizers came to conquer the native lands. However, before the skymaidens all disappeared, the youngest and most powerful one among the seven sisters sealed her soul away to the rivers of time until the strength of a heavenly being was needed to help purify the evils of the world." The figure floated closer to you. "That last biraddali's soul, along with its corresponding power, traits, and knowledge, had chosen to reside deep within you the moment you were conceived."

Honestly, how were you even supposed to react? Your life was nowhere near ready for something like this. Was this a prank by your friends? Your colleagues? The light around this person seemed too authentic to be fake, though.

You stayed in shock for an entire minute, silent. The being in front of you only waited for a response.

"Ano 'to, Sailor Moon? Winx Club?" you whispered to yourself, before slapping your own cheek and scolding yourself. A stinging red mark was left on your face. "Inday, kakamanhwa mo 'yan! Nasosobraan ka na ata, matulog ka na!"

Sighing heavily, you rubbed your face tiredly, still in disbelief that you—according to this stranger—were apparently some old soul from a species of ethereal beings that were long gone. It sounded like something out of those reincarnation webnovels you got addicted to. What now, you were the MC? Wattpad ka, girl?

"Look, this is a mistake. I still have to wake up early tomorrow to give out the donations," you spoke to the glowing being (or whatever it was), laughing nervously. "I'm sorry, but I think you have the wrong person. Either that or I must be hallucinating from sleep deprivation, because I'm definitely not a divine creature. You're probably just a product of my imagination. Sorry, I'm going to bed."

Bang!

At that moment, the power in the building went out. The only thing you could see was the thing who assumed you were a biraddali (they were so bright they were like a flashlight in the dark for you).

"Brownout?" you blinked. It felt wrong, though. It was eerily silent. "Did a fuse blow up?"

"Nagsimula na ang iyong unang pagsubok, Y/N," they announced seriously. "Creatures of the dark have already begun to take over this building. You may not have noticed, but all throughout your life, you have always been helping and giving. It is your nature as a being descended from the heavens themselves, and now, it is time for you to accept your destiny."

"Hoy, sandali lang! Sandali, sandali!" You were absolutely wide awake now as you heard the sounds of strange whispers around you. It was terrifyingly creepy, much creepier than whatever you'd seen back in the Trese Residence (and you'd seen a lot in that house). You did not want to be a part of a horror movie-like lifestyle. "Don't I have a choice in this?! I—I don't have any training or fighting skills! Hindi ako Alexandra Trese o Babaylan-Mandirigma! I'm not ready for this, holy sh—"

The candescent creature raised a brow at you, "Inday, I just told you that you have the power of a lost mystical being. And tell me, if you had the power to save your companions in this building from the forces of evil, would you save them?"

You were silent, knowing the answer.

"Well?" they prodded.

You bit your lip, "Oo naman. I'm not heartless!" But you were a little impulsive. And apparently, insane.

"That's what I thought. I just need you to believe in yourself," the being encouraged, gentler this time. It transformed into something smaller and rounder—like a ball of light. "Ikaw ang huling biraddali, Y/N, at marami kang kapangyarihan. Isa dito ay ang pagtulong sa mga nangangailangan, lalo na laban sa masasamang nilalang."

Bestie, what had you just gotten into?

You swallowed apprehensively, then nodded in determination, "Sige. So, how do I save the people in the building? Biraddali were said to be able to shapeshift, right? If I remember the tale correctly. Oh my God, I can't believe this is happening to me right now."

"That's just one of your abilities, but I'll teach you. I'm actually your guide," they replied confidently. "With me, you'll be able to master your powers and exceed your capabilities in no time!"

"Wait! Anong pangalan mo?" you asked breathlessly, following them as they speedily flew out of the room. "Grabe, slow down! I'm not athletic! I haven't even exercised this week, goodness."

"... Gabay. Ako si Gabay."

Despite the adrenaline and fear running in your veins, you still grinned up at the ball of light, "Okay. Nice to meet you, Gabay."

This was just the beginning of your supernatural combat training abroad. When you returned to the Philippines three years later, you were stronger, faster, and more powerful than you'd ever felt before. It was crazy.

Oh, that guy who tried to rob you when you came back to Manila was crazy, too. The two identical-looking men in dark suits and white ties—you wondered how they were surviving the heat in that attire—could only watch in awe as you chased down that man who stole your bag while doing acrobatics and parkour.

"Uy, Kuya Crispin, sino kaya 'yun?"

"Ewan ko, Basilio."

"... She's kind of pretty. Type ko. Type mo rin ata."

"The more important question is, paano niya na nahuli ang magnanakaw?"

"Oo nga, no? One in a million chance 'yan dito sa Maynila, haha! Ang astig ni ate!"

(Next Chapter.)

± Author's Notes ±

Ayieee, type daw tayo ng kambal! 😌

How the hell did I write this entirely random thing in one day? 2k+ words? Ano daw? 😃⁉️

You know, this was supposed to just be a Trese one-shot or a bunch of drabbles for the characters I'm currently simping for... but it turned into a full-blown, shameless self-insert slash crackfic. Kakacellphone ko 'yan. 🤦‍♀️

Nagresearch pa ako ng articles about Filipino skymaidens because I wanted something similiar to the Japanese celestial maidens (tennyo). Very random idea but why not? Gusto ko ng badass Y/N na hindi takot lumaban sa mga mumu! 👻

Also, pagbigyan niyo nalang ang matandang 'to kasi ilang taon na akong hindi nagpopost ng mga writings ko. May track record pa naman ako bilang author na hindi nagtatapos ng mga fanfic, hehe. I also haven't read the comics so please forgive me for any inaccuracies and of course, misspellings/errors. Gusto ko lang matapos 'to para makakabalik na ako sa Jujutsu Kaisen. 🥲😗

Anyways, comments and constructive criticism are welcome! Hit those heart, reblog, and follow buttons for updates! Just comment if you want to be tagged in the next chapters. ❤

[crispynuggetbutter]

Howdy! I heard read your first post and decided to send in an ask!

Which Overwatch character is your favorite? And what’s your favorite fan-fiction trope?

And if you wish you can write the character with the trope or ask me to do it and I just might.

Thanks for the ask!!!

Sorry for the slow response, I’ve been so busy with school work lately. 😫

Hmmmm... My favorite Overwatch characters would probably have to be Mccree and Reaper, at least for right now anyway. But, In game, I main D.va (lol).

My favorite fanfic trope is Yandere and cute fluff stories. I know, Those two are on two far sides of the spectrum. Ive always wanted to do headcannons but I just haven’t gotten around to it yet!

Ill do a story abt a reader whose sick and Mccree is taking care of them! A/N: I wanted the fic to get all of the cute himbo Mccree that I have stuck in my brain… lol

Rolling over to the far side of the bed, you reach for a cold glass of water to soothe the itch in your throat. Jesse had left a glass there for you the night before. He had tried to force you to drink it but you put up a good fight. So, he decided to leave it for whenever you felt ready.

The two of you had no idea how you had got a cold. It could’ve been from you never wearing a jacket outside, or maybe even from the old lady that was coughing in that one grocery store the other day. But you don’t really know.

Hearing heavy footsteps from down the hall, you quickly sit the glass down and pretend to be asleep. Jesse was always serious when it came to you not feeling well. He’s always suffocating when it comes to your health, making you drink soup and sleep the day away until you’re better.

Quietly, you hear the door creak open. The sound of glass clinks nearby, causing you to open your eyes out of curiosity.

Not to your surprise, A large, steaming bowl of chicken soup sits on the nightstand.

“Morning, sunshine.” Jesse drawls, placing his hands on his hips as he looks down at you smiling.

Squinting your eyes, you look towards him and begin to stretch. “Good morning, love.” You say, with a sore throat still present in your voice.

Jesse feels around on the bed, and sits next to your lying form. Softly grabbing your head with both hands, he presses a kiss on your forehead and slowly rubs his thumbs across your cheek.

Ruining the tender moment, Jesse whispers into the side of your neck, “It’s time for breakfast~” in a singing tune.

Chicken soup has been the only thing on your menu for the past two days. Jesse has been keeping you on strict bed rest as he watches over you. You’ve begun to grow sick of the soup. And how much he enjoys teasing you.

Jesse reaches over towards the nightstand and brings the fragrant bowl to your face. He begins blowing on a steaming spoonful, and then lifts it up to your mouth.

“Say ahh-” Jesse chuckles. He knows how much you hate this. Relenting to his smile, you open wide, allowing him to shove the warm spoon into your mouth.

“Mmm?” Jesse asks gleefully. Struggling to hide a smile, you reply. “…Yum.”

This painful process continues on for a few minutes. Once the bowl is empty, Jesse sits it on the nightstand once again. Instead of leaving you in the room by yourself, he begins setting out clothes for you. As if you were actually going somewhere…

“What are you doing?” you question. His large form is currently hunched over, digging through the clothes in your dresser. You watch tentatively as he unfolds a different white t shirt and lays across the bed.

Before he answers, he takes a moment to dump the stray clothes he threw about the room, back into the drawer. “I’m getting you a change of clothes.” He declares.

“Well, are we goin’ somewhere?” You ask excitedly, practically ripping the sheets off of yourself as you stumble out of bed.

“Well, you’re gettin’ a bath before anything.” Jesse holds back a laugh before bringing two fingers to his face, covering his nose.

“I DO NOT STINK!” You yell, throwing a pillow across the room at him. Of course he dodges just in time.

“Give yourself a sniff sweetheart!” Jesse says through a flood of laughter.

Grabbing the collar of your shirt, you try to catch a whiff of whatever has Jesse in tears in front of you.

And god do you stink.

Armpit must and sweat is the only thing that comes to mind after you smell the inside of your shirt. Lifting your face from your collar, you avoid making eye contact with Jesse.

You never stopped to consider that two days on bedrest had the ability to make you smell so bad. You didn’t think you smelled horrible, but Jesse made it seem like your underarms could kill with the way he’s hollerin’ in front of you with his hands on his knees. He must’ve read your facial expression, because you hadn’t even had the chance to defend yourself.

Trying to hold onto any amount of pride you had left, you fold your arms and say “It has been a while since I’ve had a bath.”

Jesse wipes his tears as his laughing fit calms down. “Yeah, I’ll get the water started, and you can look for those shorts you like so much.”

When you hear the bath water finish filling up the tub, you grab a fresh towel and wash cloth from the closet and make your way down the hallway. Jesse is standing next to the door with a stern look on his face. Like he’s planning on making sure you actually get in the water.

Returning his serious glare, you walk past him and close the bathroom door behind you. Jesse had laid out different bottles of lotions, soaps and bath salts for you to use. At times he could be a real pain in your ass, but sometimes… sometimes he could be the most thoughtful person you’d ever known.

Relentlessly, he had been by your side every time you caught a cold. He always made sure you got enough rest and never asked for anything in return.

After ridding yourself of your dirty clothes and throwing them in the corner, you stepped into the warm bubbly water. You reached for the lavender bath salt container and poured a generous amount into the bathwater with you.

After taking your time to clean your body, you stepped out of the tub and began drying off your body with your towel.

You spend extra time to brush your teeth in the sink before stepping out of the foggy bathroom, with Jesse sitting outside waiting on you.

Picking up your speed speed, Jesse grabs your wrist and pull you close. “Lemme smell.”

Struggling against him, you attempt pushing him away to no avail. “I don’t need you to check me Jesse!” He pulls you into a tight hug, squeezing you against his chest and makes an exaggerated inhale through his nose and then let’s you go of your damp form.

Gasping for breath, You scramble away from him and make your way towards the living room and turn on a familiar TV show. Jesse slowly follows behind you and collapses on the seat next to you.

You lean into his shoulder as the two of you begin watching a new episode. “Thanks for everything…” you quietly say into his arm. You feel his body shift towards you as his palm rubs against the side of his face. He pulls your face closer to his and places a prolonged kiss on your forehead once again.

Both of your bodies move closer together as you look back to the tv screen.

“You’re welcome sweetheart…”

[siriusmydeer]

can you please do headcanons for young sirius black x reader fic where reader has really bad anixety attacks where sometimes she feels nauseous

breathe with me

sirius black x gender neutral!reader

summary: sirius helps you through an anxiety attack.

word count: 1.7k

warnings: MENTIONS OF VOMITING!!, mentions of gagging, anxiety/anxiety attack, over stress, mentions of digging nails into your palms (borderline indications), mentions of failing school/exams, migraines, mentions of pain killers, mentions of feeling gross, possible insecurity, sirius comforting reader

a/n: so i turned this into a fic rather than hc’s because i felt like i could portray it better through a fic. also dedicated to isa ( @acosmis-t ) my love bc i cant write so thank u baby for helping me !

“Argh.” You piercingly groaned with a hand lowered to your febrile forehead, a feverish burn arising to the skin. The day had steadily been cut close to the final bell. Your Transfiguration exam had finally been completed and not without weary, of course. The prior nights you had been found asleep with drool pooling down your tear-tainted cheek and your talons promptly sunken into your palms as a desperate endeavour to relieve your stress. (Although it had not been the best choice, and at some points rather painful)

The piling books glared fiercely at you in the library till Madam Pince undoubtedly had to beckon you away, so you could sufficiently rest. Indeed then, your unconscious mind was piled in dreadful dreams (More-so nightmares) regarding critical failure and your pleaded requests to Mcgonagall, so you could re-attempt your failed exams. 

Your polished nails had been essentially glued to your pearly teeth, chomping at the rarebit till there was nothing left to bite. The strums of your heart steadily increased as the last final students had cautiously worked on their assessments. You had patiently waited, subtly noticing your brawny throat becoming excessively dry as well as well as your diaphragm contracting by the minor second, an indistinguishable bile substance threatening to overtake the taste buds on your parched tongue.

A small, minuscule tap in the nape of your skull had increased to small needles swimming around your brain while the time ticked. 

Sirius had been sitting in Charms flipping away at ‘Quidditch Through the Ages’ anxiously as he had to withhold himself from darting nervously out of his class and inquire how you were feeling with a knowing sense of how the rest of the day would take place. He had been made quite aware of your particular issue in the Third Year when you had disgorged your lunch, Shepherd's Pie that you had previously eaten had been hurled onto his Oxford’s his noble family spent a pretty penny to purchase. 

At McGonagall's constructive dismissal, you had collected your materials and begun to walk cautiously through the corridors with your books clutched eagerly to your chest. 

A slight increase in your breaths began to inflate your lungs and the steadily increasing heart strums became an overwhelming palpitation deafening your ears. Your heart had battered in your chest; nearing closer, and closer to your dormitory. Your hands had begun to develop a slight tremor at the anxious vibrations poisoning your blood, whilst your vision began to mildly obscure. You needed a moment to recollect yourself, a minute to breathe.

You had murmured a small, ‘Fairy Lights’ to the portrait before trudging up the stairs and colliding into the dormitory. The hinges had creaked whilst you abruptly had shut the door, luckily nobody was present to allegedly witness your exertion. Your bedroom had frequently remained tidy, a typical symptom of your anxiety that had obsessively pursued you to attempt your very hardest, even better than your very hardest, at everything and anything. 

You had stood center in your room venturing for the hostile seizing in your bones to cease for at least a moment. Your chest had felt tight, like a tensed muscle that had been pulled after an unusually hard sport.

You had walked toward your window and back Window, and back. Window, and back. Again, Again and Again.

Your nails are placed between the mild edges of your teeth. The cavern of your mouth almost feeling obstructed by the bile mingling around with your parched throat. At the incessant pacing of your feet, there had been a remaining thud in your thick skull adding to your misery. 

The small gust of wind was the singular audible sound in the dormitory as one of your dorm mates had abandoned it open. Your brain had felt like it swelled beyond generating capacity now your mild dehydration was too obvious to ignore like you had planned to do. You had deliberated with your eyes closed and your face contorted into a frown, you would’ve had to trudge to the kitchens for a possible amount of comfort in your state. You had groaned again, your hand promptly placed over your face, as you traipsed across the room, attempting to comfort yourself, in a sense.

Perhaps some painkillers spewed on the bathroom counter that you had previously taken before your exam could help you. Your neck had begun to sear in heat the hair that was almost clung to your nape, you raised your heavy eyelids halfway only for them to fall shut a twinging pain beginning to naturally arise behind your optics. You huffed with a minuscule gag, too much effort it would take to stroll around the school in the huffing state you were currently in, a migraine still revelling in your mind. Maybe later, you thought with a creased brow. You had heard the hinges creak again, incorrectly assuming one of your dorm mates had been back. Except your dorm mates didn’t possess the baritone of a burly male.

“Y/n” He whispered tenderly, attempting not to disturb your pacing.  

“Not now.”

He had partaken notice to your mindful scratches against your neck, continuously pulling up the hair only for it to fall once more. You had paused for a moment with a tremor in your finger that was trapped between your teeth. A familiar distortion of torture wrapping around your throat like a snake that was threatening to suffocate you; your respires heavier and more frequent. He had begun speaking, a blubber of words escaping his trachea. Yet, all jumbled like alphabet soup in your brain between his dismembered sentences. 

You suspired heavily in frustration, “Just— Shut up! Please.” You begged in exasperation. Still prying your hair from your neck, you stood frozen, discontentment building in your system.

He had noticed the black hair tie absentmindedly clung to his wrist whenever you had asked for one. Steadily walking towards your paused figure he had gathered your hair in the tie, your neck feeling the refreshing air against it; a slight relief applied against your skin. You promptly initiated to remove your robe, there was a warm discerning grip on your body overheating your arms as well as your midriff due to the uniform.

With a violent tremor in your fingers, you started grasping at the buttons, a mild frustration initiating at the fact you couldn’t pop them open due to the recurrent quiver in your digits. Sirius had removed your hands from your robe, hastily unbuttoning it before you hurled it aside. 

“How 'bout we go to the bathroom, Hmm?” He cooed while beckoning you into the bathroom, noticing the tremor in your body as well as your fidgeting fingers that were twiddling between each other. He had turned the sink on, switching the handle left where a blue spot differentiated the colours. Delicately, he grasped your trembling wrists and ran them beneath the cooling water. “Just��� Feel gross.”You murmured to yourself as he ran a few fingers under the downpour, placing his frigid fingers behind your neck. 

Your shoulders faintly shrugged at the sensation while he turned off the water and let your hands air dry, helping you not feel solidified by anything. During his movement, you had grasped onto his fingers where a few heirloom rings had fit snugly on his fingers, “Tell me about them.” This was a technique he had created in an effort of distraction at the uprising feelings of disgust for yourself bound to erupt at any moment. 

“There’s a B, I guess. Erm, engraving, swirls and stuff…” You trailed off while attempting to decipher the designs in the ring that was on his forefinger.“S’too much! Just wanna— Dunno, not feel like this anymore!”

He had partaken scrutiny to your physical tics as well as your body language, with a faint clutch on two of your fingers he had hauled you to the very center of your dormitory. Within a few inches of each other, he had mauled your hand over his sternum. You felt the heavy respires in his chest as well as the vibrations melding with your palm as he spoke, “Breathe with me.” 

You had stood there, minutes, maybe almost an hour, time was now pushed to the very nooks and crannies of your mind. The surges of perturbation still prominently surging through your veins to the density of your bones, the recurrent tremble still foremost notable but the buckling of your knees had calmed down as well as the faint chatter of your teeth. Still copying his sluggish breathing, you looked deep into his pear irises, his optics having a settling effect, a tingling reassurance reflecting in them. In the sunlight state that had remained in your room due to the unclosed curtains, there had been cerulean hues caught in that state.

Sirius’ eyes had been crafted like delicate feathers that were used for quills, not the albino kind of dove feathers, but the ones with a hue so softly grey that they could have been pencil-drawn rather than used by a quill with smeared stygian ink. They had that look of birds flying on sunlit days, the shine and quick movement, yet relaxed, purposeful, at ease.

“Can we sit?” You questioned quietly after removing your hand from his chest, hesitantly grabbing onto two of his fingers as he had previously done with you. “Anything you want.” He replied in a murmur, craning his head left, then right, trying to figure out where to beckon you into a seated position.

You had sat upon the wooden floor. The flooring designs similar to a chorus of browns; they sang together, an acapella of baritone hues that rose into vibrant soprano notes. It was a fitting place for a dormitory where laughter could normally be discerned, a place for those new sounds to soak right in and join the spirit that was already there when you had first entered the dormitory your first year.

“Here?”

“Mhm.” You nodded your head scarcely as he sat next to you. You sighed for a moment, placing a minimal amount of your temple against his shoulder, feeling the similar respires soothe you. “Here.”

taglist: @fific7 @wisedreamcatcher @kittykylax @ronbrokemyheart @aspiringsloth20 @georgeswh0re @amourtentiaa @msmb @fangouria @five-cups-of-coffee @dracofknmalfoy @emmaev @serenitywilderness @i-love-scott-mccall @artemis1orion @miss-starkov @siriusbarnesslut @inglourious-imagines @iamninaanna @livvysnaps @famdomhideout @hufflepogue @kirascottage @luvvninaz @miraclesoflove @black-like-my-soul @slytherclawbitch @90steaology

[dottielovegood]

ASMR - chapter 2

Elriel fanfiction

About this fic:

Azriel can’t sleep Elain has an ASMR channel Match made in heaven (or you know, on youtube..)

______________________________

Since a few people seemed to enjoy the first chapter, I decided to continue this story.  You can find the first chapter here And you can read the story on AO3 here.

_______________________________

CHAPTER 2

Flower Girl ASMR 1 day ago I am so happy that I could help you sleep, @Shadowsinger <3 ASMR stands for Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response. It is that tingly feeling you might get from certain sounds. You can also have visual triggers. Supposedly, if you find the right triggers, they will help you relax and they can even help you sleep.  I hope that sleep treats you with kindness from now on.

Azriel stared at his screen. She had responded. She had actually responded to his message. He had scrolled through her comment section again to see if she replied to all her messages, but she didn’t. She liked most comments, but she only replied to a few. It made him feel special, which was absurd. Why did he feel special because some girl on the internet had replied to his comment? She had probably already forgotten about it.

But Azriel carried it with him for the rest of the day.

He also carried with him the annoyance of some of the comments he had seen. This girl really needed to learn how to block some words. Especially: boobs, nudes, cock, jerk off, and cum. Azriel made a disgusted face when he thought about it. If they knew each other, he would help her with that.

But they didn’t know each other, so Azriel didn’t have to think about it. Those comments shouldn’t affect Azriel in the slightest. He had read way nastier things on the internet and never cared.

What was it about this girl?

Azriel was sitting at his desk. He was working at Velaris Times – a web-based newspaper that his best friend Rhysand had started a few years ago. He hired Azriel to work in IT and their other friend, Cassian, as a photographer. It was a pretty small newspaper, so they all felt like family there.

Azriel was feeling naturally energized for the first time in his life. He didn’t even need to down his usual three cups of coffee this morning. Cassian was sitting next to him, editing some photos for an article that their co-worker Mor had written.

“You wanna grab some lunch later?” Cassian asked.

Azriel’s eyes didn’t leave his computer, but he nodded in agreement. “Sure. Should we invite Rhys?”

Cassian snorted. “Nah, he’s on that weird health-cleanse, remember? Feyre probably packed him a kale juice and some broccoli.”

Azriel chuckled. Feyre was Rhys’s wife and since they decided to get pregnant, she had been all about healthy eating, to Rhysand’s dismay. He wasn’t even allowed coffee - it was all about the green tea! Some days, Cassian and Azriel ate their lunches at the office which always lead to Rhys staring longingly at their food. It felt like having a dog begging for scraps underneath the dinner table.

“So that’s still going on, huh? I thought he would have given up by now. There’s only that much kale you can eat,” Azriel said.

“Yeah, but he’s whipped. Remember when they first started dating and she served him soup from a can and he ate it like it was a gourmet meal.”

“Fair enough.”

“You know that I can hear you, assholes?” Rhys called from his office. They had been very aware of this fact. Rhys strode out of his office, wearing his usual uniform of a dark suit and a crisp white shirt. Azriel was happy that he worked in IT so he could get away with just wearing black jeans and a black t-shirt - and maybe a hoodie on cold days.

“Are you telling me that Nesta doesn’t have you wrapped around her little finger?” Rhys smirked and leaned against the doorframe.

Cassians ears turned red. “She could never get me to drink kale-smoothies every day.”

Rhys shook his head. “You were pining for her for two years before she even agreed to go on a date with you. She could probably tie you to your bed and get you to call her mistress if she wanted to.”

Cassian leaned back in his chair and gave Rhys a purely male grin. “It wouldn’t be the first time,” he said and wiggled his eyebrows.

“Oh for fucks sake,” Azriel groaned. “Too much information, Cass.”

Cassian shrugged. “Don’t be so sensitive, Az.”

Azriel glared at him. “I’m not sensitive just because I don’t want to hear about your sex life.”

“That’s because you don’t have a sex life,” Cassian muttered under his breath, which elicited a burst of laughter that sounded more like a snort from Rhys.

Azriel shook his head and tried to concentrate on his work, which was almost impossible when his two friends were still staring at him. He could almost feel them scheming.

“Hey, Az. How’s the dating going?” Rhys asked.

Azriel didn’t answer, mostly because the answer would be that it  didn’t. He didn’t date. He was tired of going on dates with people he didn’t know. He wasn’t very talkative, so dates were basically his nightmare. And it was even worse when he agreed to download Tinder on a drunken night a few months ago. Dating like that just wasn’t for him. He didn’t want to meet someone on the internet like that.

“You want me to set you up on a blind date?” Cassian asked, and Azriel pretended not to hear him.

“Nesta has some great friends,” he continued. “What about Gwyn?”

Rhys nodded. “Yeah, Gwyn is a nice girl.”

Azriel stared at his friends. “I’ve met Gwyn.”

“So?”

“If I’ve already met her, it’s not a blind date.”

Cassian thought about it for a second and shrugged. “Eh, semantics. Should I tell Nesta to give her a call?”

“No. She’s not my type.”

Truthfully, Gwyn was a very sweet girl. She was cute and funny and determined, but she just wasn’t for Azriel. They had met a few times but there had been no attraction - no sparks. Azriel wanted to feel something from the start. He didn’t want to be in a relationship just to avoid being lonely.

“So, what is your type exactly?” Rhys asked.

An image popped into Azriel’s head. Usually, he couldn’t imagine what his type would be, but now, he saw someone in his mind. She had golden hair and cute little freckles on her nose. She was gentle, kind and calm.

It was Flower Girl ASMR.

Azriel closed his eyes, trying to get the picture of her out of his head. What was wrong with him? He didn’t want to date someone he had only seen in a few videos. That made him as creepy as those assholes in her comment section. He didn’t even know her. He didn’t even know her name.

“I don’t know,” Azriel muttered. “Could you please let me get back to my work?”

And after a few more suggestions of people they could set him up with (he kindly, but firmly, declined), they finally let him work.

That night, Flower Girl ASMR was hosting a livestream on YouTube. Azriel wondered if they might live in the same time zone since the live stream seemed to coincide with a reasonable bedtime for him.

Azriel joined the livestream just a few minutes after it had started.  A few hundred people were already logged in. Flower Girl ASMR was sitting in front of a background that looked like the night sky; dark blue and full of fairy lights. Her hair hung in waves around her face and she was wearing a pink top that matched her complexion. Not that Azriel noticed such things, why would he?

She was brushing her camera with a make-up brush, making it look as if she was brushing his face. “I am so happy that you all could join me here tonight,” she whispered into her microphone. “As promised, I was going to host my first livestream when we reached one hundred thousand subscribers, which we did last week.” She smiled at the camera, one of those smiles that reached her eyes. Azriel could feel himself smile back. Which was stupid. She couldn’t see him. “Tonight, you can make requests or ask questions in the comments, and I will answer a few of your questions,” she continued. She was still moving the brush over the screen. The combination of her whispering voice and the visual trigger of the brush made Azriel tingle all over.

Most comments were very nice; telling her that she helped them sleep, or wanting her to say hello to them. People asked her about her favorite color and if she had any pets (lilac and no). One person asked her to do something called hand sounds, and Azriel had never in his life appreciated hands rubbing together as much as he did at that very moment. Maybe it was something with the setting on her microphone, but the sound was like a wave of pleasure in his brain.

He could feel himself relax. But then, of course, the nasty comments started.

HybernCoolKid Show a little skin babyyyy. Those tits look perky af

MortalGraysen Trying to look so innocent when you’re a fucking slut

Amarantha_utm I would honestly rather watch paint dry

Azriel could feel his blood boil. He recognized the names from the video he had watched last night. Why didn’t she just block them? On the screen, he could tell that Flower Girl had seen the messages; her face fell for just a second. And one second was all it took for Azriel to suddenly feel very protective. He was just about to go tell them to go fuck themselves when he saw that he wasn’t the only one with that idea. The comment section was flooded with love for her and in just a matter of moments, the mean comments were drowned in a sea of heart emojis. Flower Girl smiled at the screen, silently thanking all of her followers for the love. But she didn’t address the hate. She just kept going as if nothing had happened. There were a few more nasty comments during the livestream, but the same thing happened every time; her followers love-bombed her. Azriel was happy to see that most people seemed decent enough, but god, she really needed to learn how to block people.

Before he could think about it, he clicked the link in her description that led to her Instagram. Her username was the same on that app, and it was mainly used to tell her followers when a new video was uploaded. Azriel quickly looked at his own feed, making sure that there was nothing embarrassing. There wasn’t. He didn’t post very often, and when he did he usually posted pictures of food.

He clicked the button for her DMs, and before he could talk himself out of it, he wrote her a message.

Shadowsinger Hey! I just watched your livestream (it was great!) but I couldn’t help but notice some really rude comments. I hope you don’t find this weird, but have you tried blocking them? If you don’t know how, I could send you a link that will describe how to do it. God, this is weird, isn’t it? If this message makes you uncomfortable, just delete it. I’m sorry. But if you need help with blocking those douchebags, please tell me.

He sent it without even reading it and as soon as it was out in cyberspace, he groaned. What the fuck was he doing? She wasn’t his friend. She wasn’t his anything. Yet, there was something that drew him to her. Maybe it was the fact that she helped him sleep? Yes, that had to be it. It was either that or witchcraft, and Azriel didn’t believe in the occult.

Azriel was just about to put his phone in another room and go die from embarrassment when he saw that she had answered his DM. He was afraid to open it. What if she told him to fuck off? He would never be able to watch her videos again, and then he would never again feel rested.

FlowerGirlAsmr Hello! I recognized your username from one of my videos! I’m happy that you enjoyed the livestream :) I have blocked them multiple times, but they keep coming back. But thank you for offering to help me. That is very sweet!  Ps: The lasagna on your feed looks delicious.

Azriel stared at the message dumbfounded. She had answered him. And she didn’t tell him to fuck off. She had remembered his username. And she thought that his food looked delicious. He didn’t understand why he suddenly felt so nervous. Should he tell her that after watching her video he had the best night’s sleep of his life?

Probably not. That might sound creepy.

Shadowsinger Yeah, I commented last night. Have you tried blocking words from appearing in your comments? If you did that, you might not have to endure such nasty comments.  (Yes, the lasagna was very delicious)

He was staring at his message. Did he sound stupid?

Yeah, he definitely sounded stupid.  The lasagna was very delicious ? Why did he add that?

Stupid, stupid, stupid

But despite his stupidity, she answered.

FlowerGirlASMR You can do that?? I had no idea! I am not very good at computers. Honestly, I have to google every single thing about YouTube because I understand nothing, haha. How do I block words?

Shadowsinger I’ll send you a link that describes the process!

He sent her the link and waited for a few minutes, feeling happy to help her.

FlowerGirlASMR I hope you don’t think I’m stupid, but I understood absolutely nothing :( Is there a link for dummies?

Azriel laughed at the last part of her message.

Shadowsinger Unfortunately not. But if you want, I could help you.

She didn’t answer him for a while after that. Azriel was staring at his phone, trying to will a message to appear. Did he cross a line?

FlowerGirlASMR I won’t give you the details to my account. We don’t know each other.

Oh god. She thought that he was trying to scam her or something. Fuck.

Shadowsinger I don’t need to log into your account.

He sent the message quickly.

Shadowsinger I could guide you if you like? I work in IT so I’m used to just guiding people through these things.

FlowerGirlASMR How could we do that? I’m not very good at understanding instructions when they are written…

Azriel had an idea and it was both brilliant and idiotic. He typed quickly before the logical part of his brain told him to stop helping this girl he didn’t know.

Shadowsinger I could give you my number and guide you through the phone? I could share my screen with you so you could follow along like that if you are more of a visual learner. You could call me with a hidden number.

He added the last sentence to make her feel safer. And because he didn’t trust himself to have access to her number.

Again, he had to wait for a small eternity before her message popped up.

FlowerGirlASMR That would be great! Could I call you tomorrow at 10.00?

He didn’t even check his schedule before typing “Yes.”

She answered with a smiley.

Azriel sent her his number and she said that she would call, and that was that.

“What the fuck am I doing?” Azriel muttered to himself and got back to bed.

He opened the youtube app, and one of her videos was the first one he saw. His finger hovered above the video. Would it be weird to watch her now that they had messaged each other? He decided to click another ASMR video instead. And then another. And then another.

After 2 hours, he realized that all ASMR was not equal.

So he gave in and clicked on one of her videos. Flower Girl ASMR’s face filled his screen. “Hello my lovelies, lovelies, lovelies,” she whispered, and Azriel thought that she was the loveliest person he had ever seen.

Five minutes later, he was fast asleep.

[cellsshapedlikestars]

Hon' if you are accepting prompts (and only if you are!) can I have some spooky Sansa and Jon? I'm still not over them in spooky scenarios so I would love to read anything about it.

And for something a little more specific (in case that helps): maybe ghost!Sansa and Jon moves to her place and she is not happy, but also she loves his dog?

Or maybe Addams AU!

Or maybe Jon is the ghost and Sansa moves into his place?

Or they are talkshow hosts or something and a ghost is trying to get them together?

Or maybe YouTubers AU and their followed bug them until they agree to a Collab and it's Halloween or something like that?

Okay I went all over the place and clearly have too many ideas, but feel free to choose any of you do choose something!

First of all, I guess I'm sort of always taking prompts? I'll never turn them away, though they may also sit in my inbox forever (I'm looking at you, the last anon prompt from when I asked for them back in December...)

Second, spooky prompts! ❤️👻❤️👻❤️ If there's anything I love in this world, it's the supernatural/paranormal. And it may be the middle of summer, but I'm already longing for spooky season and I've been trying to vibe with it but it's hard when the days are so long, hot, and humid. (I desperately want to be able to go outside and not feel like I'm breathing soup, thank you very much.)

Before I get to the prompt itself, because I'm too wordy for my own good - your one prompt of Sansa/Jon is a ghost and the other moves in to their place... well, I've read that fic! It's actually locked on AO3 and I don't know if that means the author doesn't really want people finding it/linking to it, so I won't, but I guess DM me if you wanna know what it is?? I don't know the protocol for that. There's also Haunt Me, Then by the lovely @ode-to-an-inkwell which I read back when I was lurking and I loved it. It's the same base premise, but with a ton more plot!

The prompt I have chosen is the youtuber collab! Because I also love writing about/dissecting social media, apparently.

.

.

Sansa breathes – deep and even – and tries to stay centered in the middle of her group (away from the edges, away from the dark corners and the sounds coming from them and the people she knows are waiting for her there).

She wishes with all her strength that her followers had never found out that she's related to Robb. It's not something she was hiding, necessarily, but when she started her channel, she'd kept a lot of her personal life private. And honestly, she never thought it would get to this point – the point where she has millions of followers and Robb and Theon have millions of followers and those followers inevitably found out she and Robb are siblings.

A collab had been unavoidable. She just wishes it were any other activity than... this.

She lets out a strangled scream as something crashes to her right and she stumbles left, straight into the other person who's been dragged along tonight – Jon Snow. He catches her arm and keeps her upright and she almost thanks him until she hears him let out a laugh. It infuriates her and she rips her arm out of his grasp and sends him a glare, though it's short lived when she sees what looks like a jar of eyeballs on a shelf behind him and bile twists in her stomach.

She hates Halloween - she hates horror movies and jump scares and gore, and she especially hates haunted houses. But what else should she have expected for this collab? Robb and Theon have a dumb prank channel, of course they'd bring her – notorious wimp Sansa Stark – to a haunted house for the video. She thinks Robb got permission to film, because Dacey and Olyvar are flanking them with cameras to capture everyone's reactions.

“It's all fake,” Jon reminds her, though she barely hears his voice over the din of sound effects echoing through the dark corridor as they pass from one room to another.

“I know that,” she hisses, heart pounding wildly. They approach a doorway and – sure enough – right as she passes through, there's a person with heavy special effects makeup waiting on the other side to grab at her (another thing she resents – this is one of those places where the actors can touch you. They'd had to sign a waver). She screams in the actor's faux-bloody face and she swears he laughs at her.

In front of her, Robb and Theon are being obnoxious as usual. She doesn't really condone their prank channel and has often had to reign them in from doing something that would get one of them needlessly hurt (or would be considered, you know, illegal). Jon is usually an unwilling participant in their videos, and he has his own woodworking channel that has nowhere near the viewership that her makeup channel or Robb and Theon's prank channels do (she's told him, over an over, that if he showed his face on camera, he'd get more viewers, but he insists that he wants the focus to be on his work, not him). Jon walks next to her, calm, like nothing in this place fazes him, and she sort of resents him for this.

She understands it's all fake, she's not stupid, but that doesn't stop her fear response from kicking in every time something jumps at her, every time lights flicker or go out. It doesn't stop her stomach from turning whenever she sees the needlessly gory scenes like that doctor cutting a girl open, her fake intestines spilling out as the actress screamed.

“It'll be over soon,” Jon leans in close so she can hear him better, and for a moment a sense of calm washes over her. She loses it, though, as he moves away to give her space and she panics and reaches out and grabs his hand, tugging him back close to her.

A strange look passes over his face, but he doesn't say anything, just lets her grab onto his arm as they continue through the haunted house. She can't explain it, but with Jon next to her she feels... safe. She knows none of this is real, she knows none of these actors will actually hurt her, but it doesn't seem to matter, and it doesn't seem to matter that Jon won't actually have to protect her (though she somehow knows that he would if he ever had to, and that's a strange realization to have as she's walking through a room of terrifying clowns).

When it's finally over and they're outside, she breathes a sigh of relief and she feels muscles that she hadn't even realized were tensed relax.

“That was awesome,” Theon nearly shouts at one of the cameras. He and Robb talk loudly and animatedly for the cameras about the house, summarizing it for their audience (she knows they're likely to cut out a lot of the extreme scares and gore, since a good portion of their audience are kids and young teens).

“You good?” Jon murmurs to her and she realizes she still has a death grip on his arm.

“Oh,” she breathes with a forced laugh, “yeah,” and she lets go of his arm and immediately wishes she could have it back. (And then, some part of her brain whispers that she wishes she could have his arm wrapped around her instead, but she pushes that thought out because where did that even come from?)

Jon brings a hand up to scratch at his beard and shifts on his feet and she wonders if its because he feels awkward on camera. Jon's never liked being on camera, not really – it's why Robb and Theon always have to catch him off guard and why his videos – at most – only feature his hands and forearms (the comments on his videos about how attractive his hands and forearms are had been one of her main arguments for showing his face, but Jon had gotten weird after that and so she'd dropped it eventually).

“Hayride next?” Robb asks, which brings her back to the present.

“There's more?” she whines, twisting her face into a pout that always got her out of trouble when she was a kid, but Robb and Theon are already making their way towards the next attraction.

“You can sit next to me,” Jon offers, and she feels relief flood through her. “I'll be on the outside.”

She feels herself smile for the first time all night and nods and she's even more pleased when he – after a moment of hesitation – holds out his arm for her to take. She does so, curling her own arms around his and hugging it to her, keeping herself as close to him as possible as they walk through the fairgrounds to the haunted hayride.

They arrive right behind Robb and Theon and when Robb sees the way she's basically clinging to his best friend, there's a look that she can't figure out – it flicks from their joined arms, to Jon, then back to their arms, then to her, then back to Jon again and she feels Jon stiffen up next to her. Something silent passes between them and Robb looks almost... concerned? But then Jon shakes his head so subtly she thinks she's not supposed to see it and Robb nods back and turns around to face Theon and the cameras and Sansa's left more confused than anything.

The next tractor and wagon pull up to the entrance and the previous riders disembark. She waits with Jon, and though there's a slight fluttering in her stomach, she's not terrified like she had been right before the haunted house. Jon keeps his word and as they climb onto the open-topped wagon, he lets her sit in the middle and he takes the outside so she won't have to deal with the actors that run up to them during the ride. She settles into the hay and, without thinking, leans her head on his shoulder, arm still linked through his.

“Thank you,” she says.

“Robb and Theon shouldn't have made you do this,” Jon says back and his voice sounds a bit shaky. She can't see his face, she's too comfortable resting her head against him to look up, but she wonders why he sounds nervous. Maybe he's more scared of all of this than he was letting on? He hadn't seemed nervous at all in the haunted house.

“Don't worry, I'm going to have so much fun giving them a full face of glam makeup when it's time to make the video for my channel.” That's the point of this collab – she does a video for their channel and they do one for hers.

Jon lets out a soft laugh as the tractor starts up and the wagon lurches forward, heading into the dark forest. “Can I watch?”

“Definitely,” she says as she squeezes his arm tighter, her heart jumping at a noise off in the woods – a signal that the scares are about to start. “You should let me do your makeup,” she continues to try and distract herself. “I think glam makeup would look amazing with your beard.”

“Sure,” she can feel his shoulder lift into a shrug, and that does make her lift her head up and look at him.

“You would? I thought you hated being on camera?”

He shrugs again, but whatever response he was going to give is cut off as an actor takes a running leap at the wagon, latching onto the side and pulling himself up, and the passenger nearest to him (right in front of Jon) screams. Sansa sucks in a breath and tries to calm her racing heart (and out of the corner of her eye, she sees Dacey with a camera pointed right at her and Jon, a smirk on her face).

She spends the rest of the ride (and all through the haunted corn maze), hanging onto Jon for dear life and she swears his calm presence is the only reason she survives.

(And when she finally gets home to her little apartment and gets into bed, she tries desperately not to think too hard about why that is. She tries not to analyze the safety she felt with him or the way her heart had been fluttering during the car ride home, sitting in Robb's back seat and staring at Jon's profile illuminated by moonlight in the front seat as he and Robb talked and joked around. She tries not to obsess about the way he'd told her to call him if she ever wanted him to be in one of her videos, tries not to read too much into the look Robb had given Jon when he said it.)

(She tells herself that the reason she can't sleep that night is because of the haunted house.)

(It's definitely not because of Jon.)