#southern fic

[marlenesluv]

heyy i was wondering if u could write a max, daniel, or carlos x super southern (like from the DEEP south/not texas) dallas cowboys cheerleader (kleine powell fc plz shes so gorg) smau and everyone is surprised that theyre together. or alternatively same premise but with an lsu tiger girl (fc darah haidet) and shes a lot younger. us southern girls get no rep lmao and ily

Unexpected. (DR)

hi! thank you sm for the request. i absolutely love this sm!! i went with daniel for this one, he’s too cute. i genuinely never see any southern girl stuff, so i hope you love this! and ily too!!also, y/n is a dcc, but she’s from louisiana. i never mention a state tho so you can imagine a diff one!!

pairing: daniel ricciardo x dcc!reader

fc: kleine powell

warnings: none!

note: i went ahead and made this not a soft launch (im limited with photos lol) also age gap is 8 yrs in this one!

masterlist here -> masterlist link

^ check my list for all posts! ^

liked by: y/n.user, pierregasly, and 1,872,055 others

tagged: y/n.user

danielricciardo: hiked a bit, and picked up this pretty lady along the way

view comments…

landonorris: you have a girlfriend? i never thought i’d see the day

|> danielricciardo: you’re talking??

y/n.fp: is that our girl?? our cowgirl is dating a man that makes cars go vroom!?!?

|> f1.fp: when worlds collide

y/n.user: wouldnt have wanted to hike those 12 miles with anyone else :)

|> danielricciardo: :)))

dcc.fans: does this mean daniel is gonna come to games?

charles_leclerc: is she converting you full cowboy?

|> y/n.user: of course i am🙃🤠

yourbsf: awwww, you guys are so cute. pls let me meet him

|> y/n.user: soon, honey🫣

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liked by: danielricciardo, francisca.cgomes, and 862,274 others

tagged: danielricciardo

y/n.user: who’s going to tell him that these are not the dcc colors….💙🤍

view comments…

fanpage.dcc: UNEXPECTED RELATIONSHIP

|> y/n.fanpage: LOVE IT THO??

danielricciardo: sugar, it’s texas’ colors…..

|> y/n.user: i’m not from texas daniel, we’ve been over this😐

|> danielricciardo: let me grab my blue and white before the game

|> y/n.user: thank you, hun☺️

pierregasly: have fun with his annoying ass

|> danielricciardo: HEY. she loves my ass, thank you very much

|> y/n.user: 😇

formula1fp: this was not on my bingo card for this year. i’m not mad about it tho

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twitter:

Formula 1 Wag News @formulaonewags • 2d

New Wag: Y/N Y/L/N has been posted by Daniel Ricciardo recently, saying that he “picked up this pretty lady” referring to Y/N. She is a Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader, at 26 years old. They have yet to officially announce their relationship, but with both posting, daniel going to games, and not denying their friends, we have strong reasons to believe they are dating.

|

DCC Updates @dccupdates • 2d

We think thet have been seeing each other or talking for a while. Y/N has stayed away from guys at parties (via her friends posts) and Daniel has been posting a lot at home. Maybe this has been going on for a while?

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liked by: y/n.user, carlossainz55, and 2,109,240 others

tagged: y/n.user

danielricciardo: first date, kinda nervous. do you guys think she likes me? 🙁

view comments…

y/n.user: i do i do i do🫠🫶

|> danielricciardo: i like you too🤭🫶

dallascc.updates: pls pls this is way too cute but i’m shook

|> f1updatepage: aren’t we all?

georgerussell63: theres no way you’re dating a dcc-

|> carmenmmundt: they’re so cute!!

|> georgerussell63: yeah, but how?

|> danielricciardo: im very charming

yourbsf: actually adorable asf. i’m soso glad you’re both so happy together :’)

|> y/n.user: thank you, babes🙁🫶

maxverstappen1: i hope you guys had a good date!

|> danielricciardo: we did ☺️

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liked by: y/n.user, oscarpiastri, and 1,982,140 others

danielricciardo: another hike, another race sunday

view comments…

y/n.user: you’re gonna do so amazing ☺️

|> danielricciardo: wear my cowboy hat?

|> y/n.user: i’ll be there with the hat and boots on 🤠

|> danielricciardo: 😊

f1.wag: new y/n content? yes plsssss

carlossainz55: i’m still confused on how you got a girlfriend

|> maxverstappen1: we’re all confused

dcc.posts: our favorite hikers 🥾

y/nfanpage: i livveeee for them

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liked by: landonorris, danielricciardo, and 1,027,174 others

tagged: danielricciardo, landonorris

y/n.user: p2 for daniel = proudest gf today. although i would be proud no matter what. thank you for being such a sweet, funny, supportive, and entertaining bf. i am not thanking you for bringing lando on the same plane, jk

view comments…

landonorris: those tension headache pills didn’t help?

|> y/n.user: nope

|> landonorris: oops 🫣

f1.updates: trio we needed

danielricciardo: my favorite cowgirl❤️

|> y/n.user: my favorite cowboy❤️

|> wagsof.f1: i’m actually so lonely i’m sobbing

formula1.page: you😭 guys😭 are😭 adorable😭

lilymhe: cutestttt

|> y/n.user: you’re too sweet💓

|> lilymhe: 💓💓

y/n.fp: i am never getting over this relationship. f1!driver and southern cheerleader? k. my life is complete

yourbsf: MY PARENTS

|> danielricciardo: oh dearie

|> y/n.user: 😳

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(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #daniel ricciardo x female reader #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x ofc #southern fic

[song-witch]

Fill Me Up, Buttercup

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,467

Warnings: Southern Mommy Wanda. Fluff. Smut. Fingering (R receiving). Phone Sex (kinda?).

A/N: i don't like this but oh wellsies

Part One Part Two

“Well, howdy there, stranger.” Wanda hollered into the phone, a new smile crossing her lips.

It was more of a smirk, the right side of her smile lifting higher than the left. The opposite eyebrow raised, though it was mostly covered by the way her bangs fell over her forehead.

You could hardly focus on it, though, far too enraptured by the rather generous view her negligee gave you. She wasn’t wearing a bra, that much was evident, as they moved in time with her breathing and the movements of her hand. It was hypnotizing to say the least. You were glad she was holding your hand though, your other grasping the bed, limiting your temptation of reaching out.

Wanda’s hand moving up had you moaning, not caring about the phone on your chest. The woman above you had morals, though, and stopped moving her hand altogether, pulling a whimper from your throat.

“Sorry hun, Y/n tripped over the dresser. Poor girl is so tired from her big day.” She tutted, a glare thrown your way. It was accompanied by a harsh shush under her breath. It made you shudder, your breath caught in your throat at the prospect of her stopping. Despite the dread that filled your stomach, you clenched around her fingers, just barely able to keep any sound from slipping out.

"Are you alright, darlin’?” Wanda added just moments later, clearly as a means to convince the woman on the phone that you were actually injured and not being, well… fucked. That didn’t stop her from mouthing words at you, just barely loud enough to hear the wispy ends of her letters.

“Quiet, baby. Wouldn’t want your team hearing you, huh?” The woman pouted, sticking her bottom lip out just slightly.

You groaned softly, shaking your head in agreement. You still had no idea who she was calling or hell, even why she was on the phone while, well, knuckles deep in you, but if it made her happy, you’d do it.

“Good.” Wanda smirked before turning her attention back to the phone, her fingers twitching inside of you. It wasn’t enough, though, even as you began to shimmy your hips down, hoping she’d take some mercy on you. You had to hold back a gasp as she curled the very tips of her fingers, more than aware of the silent threat behind her words.

Once again, you closed your eyes, resting your head against the pillow as you let your body sink down onto the mattress. It was all you could do, as you couldn’t make any noise and you were too tired to even think about doing something to be punished.

The brunette made a clicking noise with her tongue, prompting you to look back up at her. She shook her head. You knew she wanted your eyes opened, based on how she widened her own. You let your head fall onto the pillow, whimpering softly as you maintained eye contact.

“You wanna say hi, hon? Of course! I mean, how rude of us to leave without so much as a goodbye!” Wanda’s voice was an air of giddiness you knew was half real half fake, a dash of something… adventurous in the sweet tang of her accent.

You cocked your head just slightly, eyebrows furrowing, teeth clenched together. It wasn’t the only thing clenching as the older woman continued to thrust into you.

"Say hi, baby.” The brunette smiled brightly at you, curling her fingers just right into you. The noises she pulled out of you were pathetic to say the least, little whines accompanying your gasps of air. You prayed that she hadn’t gotten her phone fixed from when she dropped it in the sink while soaking dishes. At least then, the mic on the damn thing would still be shitty.

“Hi.” It took three full lungfuls of air before you responded, a stillness in the air. Wanda wasn’t still by any means though, and kept her fingers thrusting at a slow but steady pace. It wasn’t enough to make you come, but fuck was she good with her fingers.

“Hiya theres, toots. Say, you keep giving speeches like that and I’d be the one dragging you home!” The voice was so familiar and even comforting to your ears, but your mind was so foggy that it was hard to think of who it was. You could picture her, though. Brown hair. Tall. Taller than both you and Wanda. Your book. She worked on your book. Edited it. Fuck.

“Well? What do you say, baby?” Wanda’s voice had turned from that sugar filled honey to a new kind of sweetness. She knew what she was doing. She only smiled as she thrust even harder, her thumb just barely swiping over your clit. You all but moaned, arching your back into the touch.

“T-Thank you.” You whimpered, biting harshly on your tongue. Wanda shook her head, stopping her fingers momentarily to pull her hand out of yours, brushing her free thumb over your lip. You pushed your head to the side just slightly, desperately trying not to close your eyes. It was hard, to say the least.

Wanda’s eyes were unnerving, though and, as much as most nights you wouldn't mind being bent over her knee, you were certain you'd break before she even touched you. Hell, she was more than touching you and you were seconds away from being overwhelmed.

"You okay there, sugar? Sounds like someone's a little worn out.” Wanda pouted, her lips pulled down into a frown that had her words mimicking her face. Your chest heaved under her, pulling deep breaths in and forcing them out slowly. You could only hope the woman would take pity on you.

“I-I’m okay. Tired.” You whimpered as Wanda’s fingers shiftly ever so slightly, tilting your hips up in an attempt to accommodate them. The brunette dragged her thumb back over your bottom lip, resting it there as she watched your mouth stay open. You let your jaw drop just slightly. You hadn’t noticed just how tense it had been. She was eerily good at making you realize things.

"She's just too cute. But I'll let you go, toots, this car isn't going to drive itself!” Agatha’s voice had you nearly weeping in relief, more than ready for this damn phone call to be over.

Wanda cooed, propelling her thumb forward enough to push past your lips, to which you happily obliged. You were sucking before you even thought about it, whimpering as her other fingers began moving once again.

“Have a good night, Agatha. Let us know when you get home.” Wanda’s entire body seemed to soften, her eyes squinting just slightly.

She looked at you as if you were her most valuable treasure, which, in some ways, you were. She had never ceased to brag about how lucky she was to find you, no matter how much you argued it was the other way around.

“Will do, hon. Tell Y/N I’ll see her later.” You weren’t even paying attention to the conversation at this point, your vision becoming fuzzy as you blinked up at Wanda. Her fingers reached up to splay against your check, rivaling the slow thrusts into you. Your eyes fluttered shut, your hips bucking softly.

“Alright, buh-bye now.” Wanda spoke softly, a chuckle being pulled from her throat. You whined softly at the sound. She talked at you lovingly, her fingers dancing across your cheek as you continued to suck.

“That wasn't so hard now, was it, doll?” The softness of her voice continued to lull you, though your hips continued to move with her fingers.

You whimpered again, nodding at her words. She hummed under her breath as she gently took her thumb out of your mouth, instead running her fingers, sans thumb, through your hair. She merely shushed you when you whined at the loss.

“Open your eyes for me, love.” Her finger didn’t stop, a soft kiss being pressed against your forehead. She didn’t move as you began to open your eyes, her scent wafting over you. It was that earthy lavender you loved so much. She had sprayed it on your shirt that morning before leaving for “work,” knowing you’d need the support more than ever, not that she’d tell you what she had done.

"You’re so good for me, baby.” The woman’s voice deepened, a raspiness returning to it. You blinked softly at what you could see. A blush spread from your cheeks to your neck as the only thing you could see were her breasts through her negligee. You tilted your head up, attempting to seal your lips together with a whine as your hips started circling slowly.

“Mommy, please.” You whimpered against her lips, your hand she had left on the pillow snaking down to grasp onto the thin strap of her pajama top. You weren’t entirely sure what you were ever asking for. Just that you needed her. She seemed to understand, kissing back feverishly. It had your head spinning even more, gasping for breath before she was kissing your neck.

“You wanna cum, sweetheart?” Wanda murmured in your ear before pulling away, a smirk pulling across her lips once again. You nodded as fast as you could with how dazed you were. Your pointer finger slid between her shoulder and shirt strap, wanting nothing more than to pull it down and suck. The thought alone sent a thrill down your spine.

“Eyes up, sweetheart.” Wanda tsked, her tone playful as a smile spread across her lips. You weren’t worried about her catching you staring; it wouldn’t be the first or last time, and you had caught the other woman doing the same plenty of times. If anything, it was only fair you got to, too. You complied though, your mouth dropping open in a slight pant at the sight of her. As soon as your eyes met hers, her grin widened, a thrust accompanying the look.

"Now, wasn’t that nice? Agatha callin’ to check up on you, pumpkin.” The woman pursed her lips together, her tone the same sticky sweet she used to tease you. There was nothing you could do to stop the moan that had been growing during the call from coming out, tossing your head back.

Wanda began thrusting into you with earnest, pushing a third finger in while simultaneously pulling your hand off of her. A continuous moan was bubbling out of your throat, a keening tone to it. Your body rocked in time with her hand, hips tilting up to meet her thrusts.

Everything inside you felt like it was on fire; from the way your forehead was covered in sweat, to the way your stomach tightened. Both you and Wanda knew it wouldn’t take much to make you cum.

“Mommy, mommy-” You began chanting the word over and over again, a particularly hard thrust forcing you to moan through an inhale. Your knees tried to lock behind her leg, thighs squeezing around her wrist.

Normally, she’d be pulling her hand away entirely, slapping your legs and pussy before reprimanding you because ‘you know better than that.’ The thought had you immediately parting your legs, though you clenched her fingers harder.

“You’re okay, sweet pea. Come for me, darlin’ girl.” Wanda’s lips returned to your forehead, kisses pressed against the sweaty skin. Your hips spasmed erratically as you chased your high, a string of unintelligible words leaving your mouth. Her thumb drew methodical circles on your clit, and you knew you were done for. Her fingers and thumb moved even faster as you ground down, your mouth opening and closing. Your back arched, pressing your bodies together.

“Oh my, oh my-” You cut yourself off with a cry, knowing that so much as another thrust would send you tumbling over the edge. Your fingers curled into the bedspread even tighter, holding on for dear life. Wanda’s thrusts got faster, repeatedly hitting the spot that made everything in you clench around her fingers. Her thumb came down on your clit, rubbing harsh circles into it.

“Let go, sweetheart. Mommy’s got you.” Wanda cooed, her voice completely contrasting her actions. There was nothing you could do other than to let it happen, your body tensing as you did what she said. You tossed your head back, letting out a high pitched wail as your orgasm washed over you, your body arching off the bed. Wanda continued to thrust, letting you ride the high out as she helped you through it.

“Shh, that’s my good girl. Mommy’s good little girl.” Wanda spoke softly as you came down from your high, her face suddenly much closer to yours as she hovered above you. Her fingers were still inside you, albeit hardly moving as you panted, eyes shut. Your hips jerked as waves of aftershock coursed through you. Wanda only shushed you, though, gently pressing her hips down to urge you back onto the bed.

“You did so good, baby. Mommy’s precious little girl.” You whined as she pulled her fingers out of you, your walls desperately clenching against nothing. You forced a deep breath out of you as you fully relaxed against the bed, your eyes fluttering open. It took all of two seconds before Wanda was kissing you. You sloppily kissed her back, easily letting her take full control.

You lazily made out for who knows how long, Wanda forcing you to finally unwind after your day. It wasn’t long before she was urging you up though, easily maneuvering you into the bathroom, encouraging you to use it before she cleaned you up.

As much as you would’ve loved nothing more than to sleep, Wanda’s concerns about you being fully taken care of and not developing an infection far outweighed your need to sleep. Besides, it meant she’d carry you back to bed before redressing you. A win was a win.

You were nodding off as she pulled you onto her chest, nestling your head against her neck. Everything about her enveloping her had you sighing, squirming just slightly against her body. You bit your lip, sluggishly tracing your hand down her body, playing with the elastic of her shorts. “Mommy, you-”

“Sleep, sweetheart. You’ve had a long day. Little girls need their rest.” Wanda easily pulled your hand from her pelvis, instead letting it rest against the side of her chest that you weren’t lying on.

More often than not, you would’ve protested. Would’ve told her she took care of you too much and she deserved to cum too. You were too worn out though, and instead obliged, pushing your face further into her neck. She hummed softly, fingers combing through your hair as you easily drifted to sleep.

#jane's fics #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff imagine #mommy wanda maximoff #southern mommy wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff smut #part 3 #part 3 of 3

[muffinlance]

Wait, what’s going on with Embers???? That fic has been on my read later list since 2021, what’s happened with it???

Brief overview, then I'm likely never touching this topic again, because this is not a Drama Blog:

Context: Embers is a super old AtLA fic that was written during the early fandom days, read widely at the time, and was the origin of the widely-used fanon name of "Wani" for Zuko's ship (kind of by default that it was one of the first popular fics to give his ship a name, I think?), even though most fic writers don't seem to realize it's from there anymore.

"What's Going On": I used to include a link in all my stories to it, because I believe in crediting other writers for borrowed elements, and I was using "Wani" in all my fics. But BOY did I not want to be sending readers that way anymore, so I've adopted a new name for Zuko's ship, and removed all Embers links.

None of the criticisms about Embers itself are new; I'm assuming they date back to when the fic was being written, because this isn't an "it aged badly" thing, this is an "actually yeah this gets worse the longer you think about it and I shouldn't have ignored my bad feelings just because some of the worldbuilding was interesting" thing.

An Incomplete List of Why I Made the Change:

I don't actually like the story that much anymore, and don't want to rec it

I tried to re-read it recently to see if some things were as bad as I remembered and it turns out they were So Much Worse Oh Yikes. More specifically, the treatment of Katara and Aang and their respective cultures has... rather a lot going on. One example: The Fire Nation and Air Nomads are both given multiple backstory elements in an attempt to make the average Fire Nation soldier's participation in the genocide/war in large part the fault of the Avatar and the Air Nomads themselves, and also fully justified from the Fire Nation perspective. And I do mean fully. One of its core tenants is "People from the Fire Nation (and only people from the Fire Nation) who don't follow orders Literally Die, therefore murdering pacifists and babies and continuing the war (and their regularly scheduled war crimes) is the only thing it is physically possible for them to do". I cannot emphasize enough how literal that is.

Also the name "Wani" means "Alligator" and is... objectively a pretty lame name for Zuko's ship? Where's the personality, where's the deeper meaning, where's the resonance with Zuko's themes? @tuktukpodfics initially thought I was calling the ship "Wanyi", and that's what I've switched to, because it is Objectively So Much Better. In their words: “Wànyī (萬一): Literally ‘one in ten thousand,’ ‘perchance.’ Used grammatically in Chinese to mean ‘what if’ or ‘just in case.’ I think a ship called ‘The Perchance’ is perfect for a boy clinging to false hope.”

TL:DR; I don't rec Embers anymore, because I don't actually like the story anymore, and there are things about it that get worse the more I think on them. I've removed links to it and renamed Zuko's ship to "Wanyi" ("The Perchance") because our boy deserves a ship name that reflects his character arc.

#for the record if you ever find something kind of rancid in my fics #do please let me know #EX: I've rewritten scenes to be better Actual Blind Rep for Toph based on blind reader feedback #and I'm debating how hard it would be to ignore/re-write the canon issues of Water Tribe sexism (for the Southern Tribe at the least) #because that is a common complaint I see from the people who's RL cultures the Water Tribes was based on #probably I can do more interesting things with that going forward #in other words justice for Hama and Hahn #at least the show itself made Hama excellently complex #anyways back to doing actual writing #please no follow up questions #though I will say anyone who wants to update their own fics to use Wanyi (or any other name): go for it! #all you need to do is plop your chapters in a word editor and find/replace the ship name! it took about 40 minutes to do literally #all of my fics and I had some other editing to do besides! it'll be even quicker for you! #let's sink the Wani #avatar the last airbender #atla #Zuko

[demaparbat-hp]

Character design for Katara in Soundless.

#atla #zutara #avatar the last airbender #katara #atla art #atla fanfic #atla fanart #katara of the southern water tribe #katara art #katara fanart #atla katara #Soundless AU #Soundless (Uiscefhuaraithe) #Soundless AU art #zutara fic #zutara au #character design #Designing her was so much fun!!! #I wanted to play with a warmer color palette for Katara #Not much to say tho #I know I've been missing but I've got tests in college and... yeah #The joys of university life #Ugh #Also I've been thinking about a Blue Spirit!Katara and Painted Lady (Lord? Spirit? One? Help) Zuko AU #Another one for my never ending to-do list

[ecoterrorist-katara]

Sometimes I read a Zutara fic classic and I want to scream “WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME ABOUT THIS, THIS IS SO UNDERRATED” even though it’s on like a million rec lists and everyone has already read it??? Like nobody told me Once Around The Sun or Southern Lights are THIS good, even though EVERYONE said they’re good, does that make sense. I didn’t know they’d give me book hangovers and possibly change my brain chemistry

#zutara #zutara fanfic #once around the sun #southern lights #I love u ZK fandom #Zutara fic recs

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

A Southern Myth

Summary: Leon had been sent to a rural place in Texas where sightings of a BOW were reported. But upon entering the forgotten town, he began to get entangled in a horrific twist of events involving a religious cult. Things escalate and now he must survive with the help of a girl who doesn’t believe in anything.

Warning: horror. religion. mentions of blood and gore like description. cult activities. violence. swearing. reader is fem. there is no romance/smut.

A/N: omg I’ve never written something like this before🙈 CAPCOM should hire me for script writing.

“You believe you're on the righteous path, you believe you're a force for good, but you're not.” - John Seed, Far Cry 5

“Come forth, my children. Let your souls become pure under His guidance.”

“Let us rejoice in purity as we bathe in this sacrifice. Let us become one for Him, for He has been waiting.”

-

The sound of the dirt rolling under the car’s wheel made the road feel bumpy for Leon. The heat was intense the further he went into the rural side of what was once a town named Giligand in Texas. Once a lively town that had become a ghost town.

Until a group of religious settlers took over the desert land and claimed it their new home. They built their own society, far away from modern civilization. The orange and dried plants surrounding the new town as the wind blew hard. The sun intensified and caused Leon’s sweat to trickle down his body.

Right in the middle of nowhere is where he got sent- yet again. The D.S.O has assigned Leon a more haunting mission. The government division found in Texas’ own legislation had found weird signs of an unknown entity roaming around the dried up land. He found himself standing in front of an agent in Austin telling him about this entity.

“Our homeland security experts have raised a few concerns regarding a secluded town in Western Texas. They believe that this could be related to the virus incident that presided in other countries,” The senior agent stated as he gave Leon a stack of papers containing pictures and files of the sightings.

The abnormality was big and round. But its eyes were the only visible thing in the dark of night. Pure white eyes protruding from the creature’s face, sending a wave of uneasiness to Leon. The monster seemed tall, definitely more than 9 feet tall. Leon couldn’t tell exactly what it was but he guessed there were some sort of horns coming out the creature’s skull.

Leon had finally reached the town, being greeted by a yellowing sign. The sign written in Times New Roman “Welcome to Cunstacin” on the bottom “previously Giligand” and then near the border edge “Pop. 189”

Such a small town for a big state. Leon didn’t think much of it. He wasn’t aware of how much his life would change the minute he passed the sign without seeing those pure white eyes watching him from behind his truck.

The town itself was small but seemed very busy. The roads were flat with gravel. The houses were old and barren but still usable. He wondered how people were able to make a living of such an abandoned place. As he neared a motel, he was met with the leader of the town. A tall man of tan skin, hair long enough to reach his shoulders as his beard grew to his neck.

He approached Leon’s truck and greeted him with a polite smile, “Ah, you must be the new guy they sent here.” Leon nodded as he turned off the engine and jumped out of his car.

The man walked up to Leon and patted his shoulder, “Hope the road wasn’t too tedious. The distance between here and the city is pretty stretchy.” The man chuckled and looked behind him where two young women stood. “Go fetch his luggage and take it to his room. We don’t want to make our esteemed guest work too much now, don’t we?”

The two ladies nodded and walked over to the trunk of Leon’s truck. They both carried the brown and thick luggages to the motel, their silhouettes getting lost in between the halls.

The man then gently forced Leon to walk with him, “I’m sure you’re tired and you might want to get some rest, but there’s an afternoon mass the town wishes for you to attend. The people want to meet the new guy in town,” the man laughed again and gave Leon’s chest a lazy slap.

“I appreciate the offer but I’m here for work- strictly for work,” Leon replied as he looked at the man and then around the area.

The man chuckled and took his hand away from Leon’s shoulder, “No worries- I get it. You’re a busy guy and your work ethic is commendable,” the man leaned towards Leon’s ear to whisper, “But if you find yourself in need of His words, do come to the church behind the Great Willowed Forest.” The man leaned back and gave him another toothy smile, almost unsettling. “Make yourself at home.” That was the last thing the man said before he began to walk away.

Leon exhaled through his nose. He already got the creeps from the background check he ran on the town but meeting the people in person made the whole experience much more precarious.

He began to walk along the town, trying to find any other civilians. He saw an older woman with two children outside a two story building.

“Excuse me,” Leon said as he jogged to the three individuals. One of the children, a little boy with a bowl haircut pointed to Leon and exclaimed, “Look, meemaw- ‘tis the new guy!” The older woman slapped the little boy’s head, “Pointing at strangers is rude.”

Leon cleared his throat, “It’s alright,” he looked down at the kid before looking back at the older woman, “I’ve heard there were some strange… sightings around this town-“

“Ah, yes-“ the woman cut him off, “You’re talking Tervin.” Leon immediately furrowed his brows. They had named the potential B.O.W?

“Tervin?” Leon asked and the woman nodded, “Yes. He was sent by God,” she looked up at the sky and then back at him.

“He was kind enough to send us a messenger. My boy, the end is coming. We must cleanse our souls of our sins in order to enter our Eden.”

Leon immediately felt a weird sense of unease in his lower stomach, the bottom pit sinking down after the woman spoke.

The woman took a step forward and cupped Leon’s face, “He is our savior. He will bring us to an eternal peace. Time is ticking, we must proceed with His plan.”

Leon took a step back, taking deep breaths. What was this feeling? His heart was hammering against his rib cage and he could feel his head become light. Maybe it was heatstroke or maybe it was fear.

The woman stared at Leon, seemingly in a trance. He swore he saw her eye color vanish for a moment, not right before she “came back” and smiled at him. She then took hold of the two children’s hands and walked away. He could only stay there watching as they got further away.

He exhaled shakily as he ran a hand through his hair, this would be harder than he thought.

-

For the next following days, he’s been trying to talk to these people but everyone said remotely the same things.

“Monster? He’s no monster. He’s our salvation.”

“God sent him, it is His gift to us.”

“We must act quickly, the end is nigh”

Leon was currently sitting on the edge of the bed in the room he was currently staying. His elbows rested on his knees as his gaze fell on the picture of the creature he had in his hand. Pure black, except for the eyes. Something felt sinister- almost too evil. But he couldn’t pinpoint what. Everyone looked normal-ish.

He left the motel and began his 15th round of research. He was so sure he’d get kicked out if he kept asking the people questions. His mind traveled back to what the leader said, something about attending mass.

He didn’t want to but he knew that he had to try. Maybe there was something that could be useful in the church.

So that’s where he was headed. To the Great Willowed Forest. A forest full of tall trees and tall grass. The sun was setting and the church came into his line of vision. A tall Victorian structure that was adorned in white and gold. A bell sitting on top of the highest tower peak of the religious establishment. He slowly walked up the freaking and old steps of the church. Muffled talking from just the other of the door. With a light inhale, he pushed the door open with gentleness and stepped into the church.

The inside was much more beautiful. The benches were neatly fixed in rows as the windows were stained glass depicting stories of their God. The church was packed and the leader stood on the podium, preaching about their path to salvation.

“We must obey the Lord’s rule. For we are His children as well as His servants. We must makeup for the loss of His journey.”

Leon found himself an empty seat at the very back. No one seemed to have noticed him enter, they were all focusing on the town’s leader words. Almost as if they were bewitched.

“Tonight, we must bring our sacrifice and cleanse our souls. We must savor the taste of blood as He has given us a vessel from his sacrifices. We must show him our devotion.”

The mass lasted for an hour and a half, and he didn’t find anything remotely useful. He sighed in defeat as he felt like he wasted his time, yet again. There were no signs of any B.O.W and these people were most certainly convinced that the monster was their key to heaven.

It was nighttime when Leon had left the church, walking aimlessly through the forest. His mind preoccupied with thoughts about potentially lying to the D.S.O and telling them it was just some southern myth.

Until he hears clinking sounds coming from behind a bush. His agent instincts activated and he quietly walked towards the bush to see what was behind it.

To his surprise, he’d found another person. A girl working on a garden. She had been couched down on the floor as her hands worked through the soil.

As he walked towards you, his boots crunched against the twigs lost in the grass. Your attention had been drawn to the sound and you quickly spotted the new man in town.

You furrowed your brows as he approached you, “You’re the new guy everyone’s talking about.”

Leon nodded curtly, “The one and only,” you hummed in response and resumed your duties.

“Can I ask-“

“No.”

He was caught off guard by your immediate answer. You didn’t even look back at him. He could only stare at the back of your head as your hands worked through the soil.

“You didn’t even listen to what I had to say,” he approached you and crouched next to you, glancing at the plants you’ve been planting.

“I don’t need to. You’re asking questions about this stupid and fake thing everyone claims to be salvation or some other bullshit,” you grumbled.

“Not necessarily-“ he sighed and looked at your side profile, “I’m not here for that-“

“What do you want me to tell you? That there’s some sort of monster roaming around the forest?” You turned your head to look at him, “Because I won’t. I haven’t seen anything and I do not believe it even exists. Those lunatics are hell bent on their stupid… belief,” you scoffed as you turned your attention back to your plants.

“Bunch of bullshit if you ask me,” you muttered. He looked at you some more before looking back down at your hands covered in dirt.

“So you aren’t with those people?” Leon raised a brow as he analyzed you. You shook your head no, “Hell no. You don’t know what they do to those who don’t believe in their God… you don’t know anything.”

Leon remained silent as your words settled down in his mind. There was more than what you led on and both of you knew this.

“Then tell me,” he replied quietly. You sighed and looked at him with an annoyed expression, “Doesn’t matter. Just go back to your shit and mind your business.”

He didn’t say anything, he just watched you for a few minutes before he stood up and left.

He went back to his motel room and laid down on the bed. Staring up at ceiling as he thought about the events that took place. He still couldn’t shake off the strange feeling he felt about this town. Something felt odd but he just didn’t know what. He sighed and decided to just sleep for the night.

-

Leon woke up early in the morning and tried to find the leader of the town. Surprisingly, he was at the church. He was sitting down on a bench, silently praying. Leon walked up to him and sat next to him as he waited for him to finish praying.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t our visitor. To what do I owe the pleasure?” The man said as he noticed Leon’s presence next to him. Leon cleared his throat and pulled out a picture of ‘Tervin’

“I need you to tell me about this. What do you know?” Leon’s brows were furrowed, he was serious. He didn’t come around to play. The man took the picture and stared at it. Something in his aura had changed upon seeing that picture.

“Where did you get this?” The man asked as he looked at Leon with an unreadable expression. Leon shrugged, “I can’t say.” The man hummed and looked back at the altar in front of them.

“Tervin is a gift from God. He was sent as a warning of impending doom,” the man replied in a flat voice. “If he isn’t satisfied, then he seeks blood. We must cleanse this town of impurities and relay a message to God that we are worthy of his Eden paradise.”

Something in that caused a shiver to run down Leon’s spine, but he didn’t show it. He remained serious and calm. Leon nodded once and stood up, feeling like no one will actually tell him anything.

“Thanks,” he muttered before he left the church. When he walked out, he nearly crashed into you.

“Watch it,” you hissed at him. He looked down at you with a raised brow, “I’m pretty sure you meant ‘excuse me’” he crossed his arms over his chest and kept blocking the doorway.

You sighed and looked at him unimpressed, “Excuse me.” Leon rolled his eyes and stepped to the side. As you began to walk past him, you noticed the picture in his hands. Your brows pinched together and you quickly pointed to it, “what’s that?”

Leon looked down at the picture and then back at you, “I’m supposed to investigate this… thing.” He watched you closely, trying to gauge your reaction as you stood there silently thinking.

“You’ll get yourself in trouble if you keep putting your nose where it doesn’t belong,” you warned before stepping inside the church. He saw you walk up to the leader. He exhaled and walked back to the town. When will someone actually help him?

-

It was somewhere past 11 pm, he was staring at the files he had about this town and his objective. It was impossible to think how he didn’t have any leads. It was the Leon S Kennedy! He always saw that the job got done, always.

He groaned defeatedly and began to walk around the town, he doesn’t even know how many times he’s done that.

The town was awfully quiet. There was a fog occupying most of his vision, making the place look eerie and unsettling. He heard the rustling of the trees and grasses but he paid no mind to that. Not right now, at least.

He saw you sitting on a fountain, staring at your reflection deep in thought. Why were you the only one out here. He walked over to you and spoke in a soft voice, “What are you doing out here?”

You looked over at him and then back at the water, “Could ask you the same.”

Leon sighed and scratched his head, “I just- I wanted to ask questions but seems like everyone just… disappeared.”

You hummed in response as your fingers played with the water, “They didn’t. They’re at the church praying or something.”

His ears perked up, praying at this time? He didn’t want to question it but it still lingered in his mind.

After a few moments of silence, he couldn’t help but ask, “You said you didn’t believe in God, why is that?” He asked in a quiet voice.

You looked at him before motioning for him to follow you, “It’s better if I just showed you.”

You led him through the dark forest, twigs snapping under your shoes and wind howling soft whispers as the moonlight glimmered down you two.

“This town ostracizes those who don’t believe in God. Do you know what happens to nonbelievers?” You looked behind your shoulder to glance at Leon for a brief moment.

“No, I don’t but do tell,” he followed behind you as his eyes scanned the forest for any threats.

You sighed and stopped walking once you’ve reached an abandoned cemetery, you walked up to one of the gravestones and stared down at the name, “Jeffrey Clyle. 1987-2024.”

“Sacrifice,” you whispered. Leon heard you and walked up next to you, your eyes distant and your expression solemn.

“Ever since rumors of the “messenger” started, they’ve been capturing and targeting those whose faith has been faltering…” your gaze remained down at the gravestone and Leon remained silent as he let you talk.

“They’ve been doing human sacrifices in the name of God. They believe that God would forgive them if they kill those who oppose him…” your voice trailed off for a moment before you turned your face to look at him, “It’s evil. Punishing people for not believing in something is inhumane. They’re all slaves to their own fucking religion, that God is not kind and I will never believe in it.”

“Then what are you still doing here?” Leon asked as he stared into your eyes, searching for an answer.

“Because my father is the fucking leader of this whole thing. I can’t just leave,” you mumbled and looked away. “I already get judged for not believing- imagine what would happen to me if I left?”

He remained silent once again. Your father was the preacher and the leader of the town? That makes things even more interesting. Leon never pictured himself to be in this kind of situation- not since Spain, at least. It all seemed the same to him. Religion controlling people, is that all it will ever be?

Then he remembered something from mass he attended,

“Tonight, we must bring our sacrifice and cleanse our souls. We must savor the taste of blood as He has given us a vessel from his sacrifices. We must show him our devotion.”

Leon’s eyes widened as he began to finally realize what might happen. He looked down at you, “You mean to tell me… that your father participates in human sacrifices? Why?” His eyes were narrowed as his breathing became faster.

You looked at him with narrowed eyes, “Because his idiotic self thinks that sacrificing people will help him and his goons reach their heaven.”

Innocent lives were being used for this town’s religion. This didn’t sit right with Leon. He quickly ran out of the cemetery- his heartbeat speeding as his legs carried his body towards the church.

Under the embrace of the moon and the night, a gathering assembled at the edge of the churchyard, shrouded by the shadows cast by the townspeople. Their faces unrecognizable under the dark night, their chants in hushed tones as they circled around a sacrifice.

Bound by chains, a person writhed in resistance, their muffled cries stifled by a potato sack over their head. Leon stood behind a tree as you came behind him to look at the scene unfold in front of your eyes.

The leader of the town emerged, wielding a sacrificial blade gleaming under the moonlight. Each stroke of the blade sent shivers down your’s and Leon’s spine, as the victim's anguished pleas echoed through the night, a haunting presence appeared through the tethered night.

“We give this sacrifice to you, our Lord. Let us repent for our sins and wash ourselves with the blood of those who’ve been cleansed.”

The creature- otherwise known as the B.O.W- emerged from behind the forest and entered the churchyard. Its stature was 11 feet, towering over everyone. Its black glistening skin reflected the moonlight as its pearly white eyes penetrated the group of believers. Its horns swirled upwards, reaching up to the sky. The townspeople all bowed to the creature as they chanted its name, “All hail Tervin.”

Leon’s eyes widened as he saw the B.O.W while your eyes widened at the fact that this “messenger” was indeed real. Leon took out his gun and aimed it at the B.O.W. You quickly pulled his arm down and whispered in a harsh tone, “Are you stupid? That thing could be dangerous.”

Leon narrowed his eyes at you, “I’ve fought those things before, I know what I’m doing.” He shook your hands away from his arm and aimed the gun back at the beast.

The beast approached the human sacrifice and with its claws, it picked up. Almost instantly crushing the human, letting the blood fall down like rain on the townspeople.

“Thank you, Lord, for this blessing”

The B.O.W then ate the human sacrifice after the townspeople showered in their blood. A scene so horrific and disturbing, it twisted your stomach upside down. The creeping sensation of the fact that it could’ve been you in that situation only made it worse.

To feel your rib cage cave in, piercing your lungs and heart as blood trickles down your mouth. Its claws clawing into your body, letting the blood flow like water.

It only made you shiver and writhe in disgust.

Leon then began to shoot at the B.O.W with his gun, drawing the attention of the townspeople. One bullet shot the creature’s eye, causing it to stagger backwards in pain. The group of believers all turned to look at you and Leon.

Their faces unrecognizable- their faces foreign as the creases and eyes all felt like distinct people. The group slowly began to walk towards you two as the monster howled in anger.

“God, forgive those sinners. They haven’t sought your guidance. Let us illuminate their path,”

The leader spoke as they approached you and Leon. Anxiety coursed through your body as you saw the B.O.W swing its claws at the group of believers. People flying left and right. The leader turned around and observed in delight.

“Yes, God, yes! We shall sacrifice ourselves for Eden.”

The whole group then began to chant, “For Eden. For Tervin.”

The B.O.W only had one goal in mind- and it was to kill the person who injured it. As Tervin kept walking towards you and Leon, Leon took hold of your wrist and began to ran. He dragged you through the forest back to the motel he was staying in.

He looked the door to his room and turned to look at you, “What the fuck was that!?” Leon was stressing, all these emotions resurfaced and he felt overwhelmed. Why was this happening, how was this happening?

“I told you, they’re fucking evil when it comes to their God,” you replied harshly.

“Yeah I wasn’t exactly expecting your father to be the leader of a cult with that thing as its dog!,” Leon replied as his hands traveled through his face and hair.

You scoffed and crossed your arms over you chest but just as you were to speak, the ground shook. Heavy footsteps were heard and Leon rushed to the window. He peeked through the blinds and saw the group of believers walking over to the motel with Tervin in following them. They kept chanting as they kept walking.

“We need to get out of here now-“ you said as you began to hurry out the door. Leon, however, stopped you.

“I can’t just leave, I have a mission to do and it requires me to kill that thing. I cannot go home until it’s dead,” he said as he stared at you with a resolved expression.

You could only stare at him in silence for a few moments before sighing defeatedly, “Fine, do whatever you want.”

“Stay here,” he instructed as he took his gun and walked out, leaving you alone in his motel room.

In the flickering glow of the moonlight, amidst the eerie chants of the cultists, Leon stood there, gun in hand as he scanned the group. He needed to be smart. They had a B.O.W to their advantage.

As the first cultist lunged forward, knife in hand, Leon countered with swift precision, deflecting the blade with a punch to the gut. His movements were a blur of calculated strikes and evasions. As he killed and wounded the cultists, they grew more frenzied, their chants escalating into desperate cries of fury. Yet, undeterred, Leon continued fighting.

“We must bring him to God!” They chanted as they kept lunging at Leon.

Amidst the chaos, the B.O.W stepped forward, its twisted features contorted with rage as it charged at Leon. With the gun pointed at the beast, he shot bullet after bullet, causing it to slow its movements.

“God, please forgive our brother for he has sinned. We must cleanse him.”

Leon ran out of bullets and just as the B.O.W was about to strike, he saw you throw a pitchfork at it. The blades piercing the creature’s skin, stabbing it right in the chest.

The B.O.W let out a screeching scream, “No! Our messenger!” The leader spoke in anguish as he watched the creature stumble back, falling to the ground with a thud. Leon reloaded his gun and began to shoot again, this time aiming for the head.

As Leon became busy, your father glared at you and it was like something turned in him, “You bitch. I’ve had just about it with you. You will submit to your God and you will repent!”

You’ve never heard him speak to you this way, so much malice in his voice that you didn’t recognize the man that used to be your father.

He lunged at you, his hands trying to reach for your neck to strangle you. You took a nearby torch and set his clothes on fire. He stood back and tried to set the fire off of himself- to which he fails. He screams and cries in pain as he began to get engulfed in the flames of his sins.

“Forgive me, my children!”

You finally understood everything. There was no God because your father believed he was that God. The flames burned up in hues of blue and orange right before the sparks flew into the night sky.

His skin melted, his eyes became a blobby mess and he fell to the ground. His screech becoming more faint as the life in being burnt away from his body. The flames expanding over the dried wheat of the town, engulfing the town in a pit of fire.

Leon had been too busy to even notice that you killed your father. He’s been shooting the B.O.W, making sure to blow its head off once and for all.

After two rounds of reloading, he finally was able to kill that damn thing. Watching it fall to the ground, sending harsh vibrations to the floor as silence overtook the ghostly town.

Heavy panting overtook the two of you as the silence grew deafening. You turned to look at Leon as he stared at the B.O.W all lifeless. You looked around and saw the bloodbath. Everyone was dead.

Pools of blood stained the gravel he once stepped, the lifeless bodies of the townspeople growing cold. The flames being the only source of light under the dark night.

Leon turned to look at you for a brief moment before looking up at sky as he tried to take deep breaths. He couldn’t believe what had just happened. He couldn’t believe what he was brought into. But he was glad it was over. For now at least.

Leon packed his things and went over to his truck, he looked at you, “Aren’t you coming?”

You looked at him and then back at the town- or what remained of the town. You nodded and walked over to his truck.

Both of you driving down the lane of the rose, exiting the town. Passing by a sign that read, “Please visit soon!”

Unaware of the presence with the white eyes watching you two leave the town.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon scott kennedy #resident evil #id leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #re4 leon #resident evil fic #re4 remake #resident evil 4 #leon #horror #southern gothic #x reader #re4r leon

[quietblueriver]

Because I can't imagine Imogen was ready to let that moment in the basement go, some quickly written Southern Gothic angst/love/comfort set between their nighttime excursion and Imogen's visit to the temple the next day. Light spoilers for ep. 77.

-

When the door closes, the sounds of Fearne’s hoofs fading down the hallway, Imogen turns quickly to her pack, doing what she can to look busy as she shuffles clothes and tries to catch her breath. She needs a minute. She needs more than a minute. She needs…

“Imogen.” 

It’s loving and soft, because of course it is, because it’s Laudna, but it’s also…she’s doing that thing she does sometimes, where she acts like Imogen doesn’t know what she wants. Like Imogen is too young and too naive to understand. The same tone she used in the basement. Promise me. 

As if Laudna wouldn’t burn the world down for her. As if they don’t both know it. 

It’s not the first time she’s dealt with this bullshit. Laudna gets to be passionate and protective and fierce in her love (I would murder everyone around us if anything happened to you) but Imogen is supposed to pretend like Laudna’s life is worth less to her, to the world. Supposed to somehow just…let Laudna go. Because what? She’s a little bit dead? A little bit different? Imogen leveled a city block without conscious thought and nobody’s trying to put her down like a rabid dog, so why does everybody act like that bitch Delilah makes Laudna’s life irrelevant? Why does Laudna act like her life doesn’t…like Imogen should just be able to…

Her veins crackle, shoulders so tight they rival Ashton’s, and when the sound of Laudna’s boots stepping closer reaches her ears, she says, sharp and unyielding, “Not now.” 

The steps halt immediately, the room quiet aside from the settling fabric of Laudna’s skirt and Imogen’s heaving breath. 

“I’m…I really am sorry, darling.” 

Her body moves before her brain can stop it, eyes bright and anger flaring as she turns fast enough to surprise them both. Laudna is running her eyes up and down Imogen’s body a bit frantically, like she’s working out a puzzle, and it’s not fear, but it’s a close enough cousin that Imogen sees a flash of her daddy, hard eyes turned on Imogen in the barn after one of the foals got out. The shame is enough to temper her, but it means all the rest of it comes up instead: anger, still, but hurt and fear and the deep grief that lingers in the corners of her dreams, in the desperate way she sometimes holds to Laudna. 

“For what?” Her voice breaks, but she shakes her head again as Laudna holds out a hand, so Laudna drops it, fists her skirt nervously instead. “Why are you sorry?”

There’s genuine confusion on her face as she says, “For everything in the basement. I know…I know how it must have seemed, when my form of dread looked so much like her. I know it can’t have been pleasant to watch me lose control that way. Being there just…” 

Imogen holds her hand up, light licking up her fingertips, and Laudna’s words trail off, her eyes caught on the lightning running through Imogen’s scars, worry furrowing her brow. Imogen forces down the impulse to comfort. She’s started this conversation, and she needs to finish it. For the both of them. If she lets herself get close enough to run a thumb over the crease between Laudna’s eyebrows, to hold the hand still playing with the material of her skirt, that’ll be it. So she doesn’t, focuses instead on the memory of Laudna’s hands in hers in that room. Promise me. 

“I’m not mad ‘cause you looked like her, Laud. Or ‘cause you…I know what that place was to you, an’ I can’t imagine what it must have felt like for you to be there again. You don’t,” she works to keep the frustration from seeping into her words, “you don’t have to keep apologizin’ for her. You’re not her, Laudna, even though everybody keeps actin’...you keep actin’ like you are.”

She crosses her arms tight across her chest and stares at the floor, blinking hard as her vision blurs with tears. 

“I know I’m not her. I know that, darling.” 

The toes of her boots come into Imogen’s line of sight and she doesn’t tell her to stop but she does back herself up, pressing as hard as she can into the table behind her and wincing slightly as a sharp corner digs into her skin. The boots come no further. 

“Do you? Because it feels like you…” She uncrosses her arms to wipe her palms swiftly across her cheeks. “It feels like you’re just waitin’ on her to take over. Waitin’…” Her voice cracks again, and she grabs behind her, finds the handkerchief sitting beside her pack and brings it to her face. 

“Imogen.”

She shakes her head fiercely, forces a deep breath and then looks up to meet Laudna’s eyes, fist clenched around damp fabric. “Waitin’ to leave.”

Laudna takes half a step forward and stops as Imogen tries to back up further, managing only to dig the corner of the table further into her flesh and guarantee herself a bruise. Laudna’s going to gnaw through her lip, Imogen can already tell, and there’s black pooling at growing nails, ichor waiting to be pulled between nervous fingers. Still, Imogen holds the line, appreciates the distraction of pain, the sturdy wood that won’t yield to her body’s pressure. 

“I don’t want to leave, darling. I don’t want to leave you. I’m not giving up. I promise.” 

Promise me. Her eyes shine, anger forcing its way to the front of her mind again, and Laudna begins to say something, but Imogen beats her to it, words cutting.  

“Oh, do you? Promise? Should I go get Fearne, then? So there’s a witness?”

“Imogen, what…”

“Is it…d’you think I’m so out of line that…or maybe so ridiculous? So naive that…” Her scars burn now, heat across her skin and in the tears pressing against the corners of her eyelids. They continue to leak despite her best efforts, tracking down her cheeks until Imogen brings the yellow fabric of the handkerchief back to her face, letting her eyes slide closed for a moment. 

When she opens them again, Laudna looks stricken, her body fighting its instinct to close the distance between them, frozen in the face of Imogen’s obvious desire for space. 

She presses out through the thickness in her throat, voice rough, “You made me…you made me promise to…in front of Fearne, Laud. Did you…how was that fair? What was I supposed to do, when she was right there? Are you…are you that scared to talk to me about it? You think I’m that…that absurd, that you needed somebody else there to…to keep me in line?” Imogen laughs bitterly, and shrugs. “I mean, I guess I get it. I’m standin’ here provin’ your point, yeah?” She ducks her head and stares at the worn leather of her boots, breath shaky as shame heats her face. 

“No. No, of course not. Imogen. That’s not…” 

Darling, can you look at me? Please? 

She does, because Laudna asks her to, but even as their eyes meet, Imogen’s jaw aches as she holds herself together, shuts herself off, refuses to give up any more of herself. She can’t bring herself to deny Laudna’s request, but she doesn’t force herself to vulnerability. Not now. It’s strange, to put up her walls this way with Laudna, but it’s Laudna who has hurt her this time. 

Laudna, whose black eyes are nearly as wide now as they are when she transforms, full of concern and confusion and a love obvious enough that it makes Imogen grind her teeth in resistance. 

“I’m so sorry, Imogen. I didn’t realize…” Her lips are black with ichor and her hands are in constant motion at her sides, strings of black magic expanding and contracting as she fidgets. “I thought it would be…You were…you were so alone, last time. I thought maybe, if you had Fearne, if she knew what I wanted…what I wanted for you…Imogen, I don’t want you to have to carry it alone. Not again. That’s all, darling. I don’t think you’re absurd. Of course I don’t. I wasn’t trying to…to trick you. Or trap you. I would never. Please.” 

The pleading tone makes no dent in the wall Imogen has put up, is nothing in the face of the voice in her mind, reminding her of Laudna’s words in the basement, the look on Fearne’s face. I’m quite literally a dead end. Promise me. 

“Why are you so sure I’ll have to carry it at all? Why are you so sure she’s gonna win?” 

The tears are constant and furious, dripping unchecked down her cheeks, and she hates it, hates feeling this exposed, but she forces herself to keep her head up, to hold Laudna’s gaze. 

“Imogen.” 

The same tone–love, yes, but something far too close to pity for Imogen to let it lie. 

“No. No. I’m not stupid, Laudna. I know what you are. I’ve been in your mind, remember? I’ve seen her there. I’ve known since the day we met that you were different, and I still…I fell in love with you, knowin’ full well what you are and what that means. I’ve seen your form of dread, seen your body split open. 

The curtains on Pate’s house are made from my old shirt. Your hound has laid its drippin’ head on my lap. For fuck’s sake, Laudna, I slept next to your dead body. Your truly dead body. An’ I sleep next to you every night. Have for years and will for as many more years as I’m alive, if I have anythin’ to say about it. 

I love you, want you, all of you, and you know that. I’m not quiet about it. So why do you keep actin’ like I’m gonna wake up one day and be surprised by what you are? Why the fuck do you keep callin’ yourself a dead end?” 

“Because I am one, darling.” It’s sad, and resigned, and there is ichor dripping down her cheeks now, thick tracks left on pale skin. “I don’t want her to win, my love. I don’t. Please believe me. But I have to be realistic. For me. For the both of us.

And Imogen, even if she doesn’t win…

I love you so very deeply. More than I’ve loved anyone or anything in any of my lives. But I am dead. I’m not meant to be here, and you deserve someone who can…who can live, really live, with you. You deserve everything, and I can’t give you that.”

Bullshit. It’s bullshit. The part of her that understands why, understands what Laudna’s been through and the demons that pull at her, whisper to her, the part that drives her almost always, that keeps her soft–it’s gone, lost for the moment to a lifetime’s worth of hurt, of being abandoned or tolerated, never quite good enough for love. 

She aches as she spits out, voice as hard as it ever has been with Laudna, with anyone, “If you don’t wanna be with me, you can just say it. You can just…” She shudders, hardens. “Just stop pretendin’ you’re doin’ this for my sake, alright? It’s insultin’ to the both of us. If you don’t want me, just say so.”  

“Imogen.” 

She can’t do it, not anymore, so she turns to the table behind her, grips the edges as her body shakes. She clenches her jaw until she’s overcome, until a sob escapes, loud and ugly and broken, and then Laudna’s arms are around her waist, cool lips and cool breath against the shell of her ear, “Imogen. Darling. My love. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. There’s nothing I want more than to be with you. I’m trying. I promise I’m trying. I don’t want her to win. I don’t want to leave you. Ever.” 

She turns and buries her face in Laudna’s neck, her own arms wrapped around Laudna’s fragile ribs as tightly as she can manage without hurting her. A hand buries itself in her hair, nails scratching against her scalp as she’s held close. 

“I’m sorry, darling. I’m sorry. Come sit with me? Please?” 

She nods into Laudna’s shoulder, body still shaking, and Laudna hums as she holds her for another minute, pressing kisses to her temple before pulling away just enough to grab Imogen’s hands and lead them both to the bed. They settle across from each other, Laudna holding one of Imogen’s hands between them as she brings the other to Imogen’s face, pressing two fingers gently against her chin until their eyes meet. 

“I’m sorry.” 

She’s so sincere, so unfailingly honest, and Imogen fights against the urge to duck her head again, ashamed and sheepish. 

“No, Laud. I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair. That wasn’t…I know you love me and I know you’re tryin’. I do. I’m just…I’m scared. I lost you once and I can’t…I don’t think I can do it again. And sometimes it feels like you think it’s an inevitability, that you’re gonna leave me. That she’s gonna…

And I get it. I do. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to have her with you, to know she’s there all the time. But to have you ask me to…to let you go? To move on? To be happy? With Fearne right there like it was…What would you say, if I asked you to do that? Could you promise me?” 

Laudna flinches at the thought, her head almost unconsciously shaking in denial. 

“I know I…I know I’ve said some things. About Predathos and Ruidus and what it might take, what I might have to give up. But I hope you know I don’t…I’m not bankin’ on that, Laud. I don’t want it. Especially not now. Not when we…” She brings Laudna’s hand to her mouth and kisses her palm, her wrist, her knuckles. “I want you.” 

Laudna rocks forward, kissing Imogen fiercely, catching her bottom lip with sharp incisors and settling a hand possessively against Imogen’s throat. 

I want you, too. I’ve never wanted anything like I want you. 

Imogen lets herself be pressed back into the bed, sighs as Laudna trails her mouth across her jawline, bites at the lobe of her ear before making her way down to her collarbones, nipping and soothing with a cold tongue. 

I don’t want to leave you. I never want to leave you. 

A hand drags at the fabric of her dress, pulling up and up until nails run sharp against the skin of her thighs, fingers moving until a palm presses against her hipbone, holding her down as Laudna’s mouth finds hers again. 

Let me show you, darling. Let me show you how much I want you. Please. 

Later, tucked into the stupidly nice bed, with Imogen’s head resting on her chest, Laudna says, “It’s still difficult for me to believe that you want me. That you’d give up a normal life for me.” Imogen runs her palm over Laudna’s ribs, waits quietly. “Selfishly, I want you to, even though it…it’s not what I want for you. You deserve so much more, so much better than what I can…” Laudna squeezes at Imogen’s arm before she can object, and Imogen snaps her jaw shut. “Thank you, love.” She feels the press of lips against her hair. “I understand why you were angry with me. I…I would be, too, if you tried to tell me to leave you. To live without you. Even if I knew you were doing it for good reasons, as you undoubtedly would be. 

I know you want to be with me, even if I don’t understand why. Even if I worry that I can’t give you what you deserve. I’m sorry that I keep trying to take that choice from you. I'm going to try to do better. I promise.

And as for me…I want you, Imogen. I want to be here, with you. And if I’m lucky enough that you want me, too, well. Please believe me when I say I have every intention of trying my hardest to stay.” 

Imogen pushes herself up to kiss the sharp point of her chin, the corner of her mouth. 

“I love you. I wanna live my whole life with you. A stupidly long and real happy life. And anybody who tries to get in the way of that is gonna have a real hard time of it. You hear me?” She’s not talking to Laudna, and they both know it. “I’m gonna fight for you, Laud. And I’ve been told I’m real capable.” 

She kisses her again, and again, until eventually they settle, Laudna’s breath evening out slowly the way it does in sleep, muscle memory stronger than the reality of her undeath. While she sleeps, Imogen plans. She might be capable, but she’s also owed a few favors, knows how to make sure she’s owed a few more. She’s never really prayed before, but she can learn. For Laudna, she can do a whole lot more than that. 

#imodna #imodna fic #southern gothic #critical role

[elliesmainhoe]

need need need headcannons about ellie and southern!reader

Ellie Williams Headcanons: Southern!Reader

(I'm bri-ish 🇬🇧💂🏼‍♀️, so this will probably be very stereotypical, but I'm entering my yeehaw era in spirit so <33) and because i know its going to be laughanly stereotypical, this is a CRACKFIC, and is overdramatised,

I'm not going to sugar coat it, she bullies you a bit.

loves to imitate ur accent and thinks she's so funny (she's not but don't tell her that)

"Ellie darlin', have you seen my face cream?" you yell from the ensuite bathroom to your girlfriend still laying idly in bed.

"i dONt KnOw DARliN'." she laughs to herself, imitating a bad southern accent. she shuts up when you throw a pillow at her tho so 🤷🏼‍♀️.

finds visiting your home state SO fun.

I feel like if there was no outbreak she would be such a city girl idc

absolutely loves your home, it's in the middle of nowhere, a secluded little town with all locally sourced shops and bars, no commercialisation in sight.

and when she finds out about the horses?!

she's packing her bags immediately.

even if you don't own a horse, she's making it her life's mission to find one and ride it around town like she's in an old school cowboy action movie.

it's embarrassing as fuck.

loves your mamas cooking.

it's so generic but her favorite dish is her fried chicken.

you could tell your mama loved Ellie. how? you may be asking. easy answer, the portion sizes. as soon as she entered the dining room with the usual blue patterned china plates but an extremely unusual heap of fried chicken, mash potatoes, greens and barbeque sauce.

"thank you ma'am"

"you're welcome sugar, eat up, I've got some sweet pastries in the oven as we speak."

your dad on the other hand? she's terrified of meeting him, already envisioning this tough broad man with a shotgun and a stupid fucking cowboy hat.

but when a sweet older gentleman who was a bit chubby after a few too many homemade sweet pastries that doubts and worries instantly fade.

does absolutley NOT stand for classic country homophobia.

her inner chihuaha ankle biter instincts kick in and before you know it some guy is being knocked off a stool ,in a bar you and ellie decided to visit ,by a mean right hook.

#the last of us #ellie williams #lesbian #wlw #ellie williams fic #ellie the last of us #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams hcs #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x fem!reader #ellie williams x reader fluff #southern!reader #tlou headcanons #tlou 2 #tlou fic #tlou #ellie x fem reader #ellie

[wonderlandwalker]

Every time I see a Max Verstappen thirst post or fanfic I get it on the one hand, but on the other I have seen him do supermarket commercials about trying to do your groceries too fast and doing home deliveries in his f1 car and I simply cannot take the man seriously anymore

(That man specifically is just a little dude who shows up in an ad to go buy cookies every once in a while to me)

#he has a southern accent here it's like talking to the next door farmer #I'm too Dutch for my own good #f1 #max verstappen #f1 fanfic #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x charles leclerc #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x daniel ricciardo #max verstappen fanart #f1 fic #f1 fandom #f1 imagine #f1 incorrect quotes #mv1 #mv1 x reader #mv1 x you #mv1 x y/n #mv1 fic #mv1 imagine

[kettle-bird]

Three scenes from Chapter 1 of A Cornstalk Fiddle by @notbecauseofvictories ! I have more planned for the other two chapters but I was itching to share these. Enjoy!

(Chapter 2)

#kettlebird art #fanfic fanart #illustrators on tumblr #illustration #the devil went down to georgia #the devil went down to georgia (and then down on johnny) #fanfic #a cornstalk fiddle #the devil #americana #southern gothic #this fic has irreversibly rewired my brain i hope you know #please read it if you havent

[urdepressedslut]

The Honeysuckle and the Thorn

♡ Pairing: Soft!Dark!Stepdad!Sheriff Lee Bodecker x Innocent!Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: He knew it was wrong to want his new wife’s daughter. He knew it was sinful to imagine him doing the most unholy things to her— but because it was wrong only made him want her more.

♡ Warnings: dark, innocence kink, age gap (reader in 20's), masturbation (both fem and male), dark sexual thoughts, pls read warnings

series masterlist ✧ part two

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | 18+ DARK

* You are responsible for your media consumption. Please do not proceed reading, if you have any kind of problem with any of the above written warnings.

It was only fair that he deserved just a bite. One simple taste of your lips— one long caress of your skin. The sensation of your hair threading in between his fingers as he tugged harshly on the strands. He deserved to hear the sweet cries that would fall from your lips— the sounds he would undoubtedly hear if he ever had his way with you.

He knew it was morally wrong, the thought sickening to want you as badly as he did. But the fact was, the more reasons he tried to tell himself that it was wrong to want you. Sparked more reasons he should have you. The thoughts of missed experiences, missed relationships— moments he'd never get to have if he didn't have you. He wasn't the perfect man, but he was deserving of something good— pure.

Lastly, maybe because it was so forbidden is what made it so desirable— made you so desirable.

Truthfully, he didn't want you at first. The infatuation... well more like obsession— burned slowly. The flame always lit, but it was until a specific moment had the flame raging into a passionate fire.

Lee had started to see your Mother, the two flirting shamelessly when the Sheriff would visit the diner that your Mother worked at. It was romantic at first— Lee coming to visit with flowers in hand. Compliments that he knew would make your Mother flush. He always knew how to leave her speechless, and he hadn't even had her yet. A couple dates fly by and Lee had finally devoured her— finally finding someone to soothe his fix. Someone to satisfy his hunger... for now.

The two were inseparable, never wanting to leave each others side. As your Mother craved Lee, his heart and mind— he only craved your Mother for one thing at first. As time passed, he could feel himself start to care for her. Not only did she satisfy his hunger— but she also listened to him when he needed to vent about stress at work.

A year passed and the passion slowly started to fade, but didn't vanish completely. He found himself busier at work, and at the same time your Mother was taking more shifts at the diner. Although the passion was fading, things seemed to be getting more serious as Lee and your Mother moved in together. Your Mother already had a beautiful home, small but charming. It was then Lee discovered she had a daughter— you.

Lee was frustrated upon finding out about you, knowing that kids only added stress to his life. He was unhappy— and you seemed to start a series of constant fights between Lee and your Mother. The fights seemed to happen almost every night— and despite the frustration and growing toxicity of it all. They still wanted to be with each other. It was becoming a use for company— a way to not feel so alone at the end of the day.

Tension lingered constantly until Lee had met you finally one day in the kitchen. He hadn't known your Mother let today be the day for the first meeting. She wasn't even here. Lee found himself trudging into the room for some much needed coffee before he left for work— when he found you in a silk nightgown. A very see through nightgown, in fact. It left little to the imagination.

"Morning darling." The sheriff greeted, watching you jump and almost drop the mug you were holding.

"Oh my— you scared m-me!" You gasped, holding a hand to your heart. "Good morning... uh what would you like me to call you?"

"Lee's fine sweetheart. You're the (Y/n) I hear so much about." He thought out loud, giving you a once over.

"Hopefully all good things." You tried to joke, but deep down were afraid your Mother had said something bad about you.

Lee chuckled to himself, not wanting to really tell you that he hadn't heard much about you. The more recent interactions between you and your Mother fights— instead of conversations.

"Mother wanted to be here when you woke up— but she was called for an emergency at the diner." You informed him and he grunted in understanding. "It's nice to meet you Lee. I just wanted to thank you for making my Mother so happy. I'm sure we are going to get along just fine— I promise I won't be any trouble."

Making your Mother happy? Lee thought. She must be putting on a front for you— because things hadn't exactly been a walk in the park. Overall he appreciated you not being a demon child. In fact— you were much older than he was expecting you to be.

"Pleasure to meet ya darling— we will get along just fine." He told you with a smirk.

You smiled his way, before moving around the kitchen— trying to busy yourself from his intense stare that had your cheeks flushing.

Lee didn’t know why, but he suddenly felt an itch burning— a craving that needed to be satisfied. You were so young— so new to the big bad world.

He hummed and let his eyes roam over your figure again, taking in the way your nipples were poking through the nightgown. He had to bite his lip to keep the groan from escaping his lips. He could feel his pants growing tight from the sight of your eyes glancing up to him— so innocently like you weren’t standing here practically half naked in front of him.

“Does your Mother usually let you wear stuff like that?” He asked, speaking down to you.

You bit your own lip, looking down at your nightgown, the silk hiding very little of your body. You knew to never wear it out in public— but he was your Stepfather so you assumed it was okay.

“Y-yes… why do you want me to change?” You asked shyly, feeling insecure about what you were wearing in front of him now.

“Of course not sweetheart— you just gotta be careful dressing like that in front of strangers.” He pointed out, “You don’t have to worry when I’m around— I’ll protect you.”

You smiled at his protection, knowing you and your another were in good hands. If only you got a glimpse inside his mind.

“Thank you Lee, my Mother and I are lucky to have you around.” You told him, watching his smirk grow into a larger smile. “Would you like some coffee?”

He nodded and hummed, sitting down at the kitchen table, watching your body through the nightgown as you worked around the kitchen, getting the coffee prepared for him.

You finally set the cup of coffee down in front of him, standing close enough where Lee would get a whiff of your vanilla, buttery scent of your skin. The faintest smell of strawberries from your shampoo. It was like your scent was a drug— the smell filling his senses and pulling him into a trance.

The itch burned worse— the craving intensifying.

“Thanks darling, look at you being so helpful. Such a good girl, helping your stepdaddy get ready for the day.” He cooed, placing his free hand around on your back, stroking the exposed soft skin of the open back of the nightgown.

His touch made you shiver, the skin he was touching buzzing pleasantly. His hands were rough and textured, lightly scratching your smooth skin.

You looked away from him, trying to hide your flustered state. His touch and his words had you feeling fuzzy— a pleasant haze floating around your brain. It confused you.

“W-will you make it home in time to have dinner with Mother and I tonight?” You asked him, despite the butterflies floating around your tummy.

He moved his hand from the middle of your back to your hip, squeezing the flesh in his massive hands palming almost the entirety of your hip. The action made you gasp, your lower abdomen tingling.

“I’ll be there darling.” He whispered as he was even closer to you now.

You felt your body warming up from his body heat, despite the house being cool. Every time he’d touch you, your body had an odd reaction— one that you didn’t understand. But it had you squirming uncomfortably, not from him. From the fact that you suddenly needed something to soothe this tingle that kept creeping up.

“O-okay.” You breathed out, escaping him once he let you go, paying attention to his coffee.

You used that as your opportunity to leave the room without another peep, heading towards your room where you would lock yourself in— trying to understand this itch you so needed to scratch now. You sat on your bed wondering why you felt so unsettled, so incomplete. You were frustrated and decided to jump into the shower, get yourself fresh and clear your mind— then you’d head to the library.

You took your time in the shower, scrubbing your body all over— making sure every inch of your flesh was clean. You washed your hair, and soon as you found yourself done with your routine— you stayed standing under the water. You stared blankly at the shower wall as you were deep in thought. Your hand had a kind of its own, and you found yourself palming your tit.

You let your finger drag ever so slowly over the bud, and you had to bite your other hand to keep the gasp from escaping.

You felt utterly filthy. Even as you stood squeaky clean in the shower— you knew Mother would be so disappointed at your doing such sinful acts. You knew you should stop, drop your hands and get out— but your thumb continued to swipe and circle your bud, the sensation making you sigh into your hand.

It was something you had never felt before and you wondered— if it was so bad, why’d it feel so good?

The water started to turn cold, going unnoticed by you who was slipping into a blissful state— drowning out the world with the delicious sensation.

Little did you know, Lee had picked the lock on your door and was watching your silhouette through the curtain from the doorway— his own hand palming himself through his pants.

He watched with lust blown eyes as you played with yourself, the delicious quiet whines escaping your lips in a sweet melody. God he wanted to be the one to pull such sounds from you.

He didn’t know how this was going to work, he wasn’t sure he could control himself around you with your Mother around. He guess he would find out soon enough.

For now he scurried off with an aching member, heading into work— the only image of your bare body in his mind.

A/N: this series is gonna be filthy, get ready👀

TAGLIST: @lillytracy6996 @sebstanwhore

#southern sheriff daddy lee #sheriff lee bodecker #sheriff lee bodecker x innocent!reader #soft dark sheriff lee bodecker #the devil all the time #sebastian stan #sebastian stan characters #sheriff lee bodecker fic #soft dark fic #dark fic #dark content

[song-witch]

Chin Up, Buttercup

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3,084

Warnings: Fluff! Southern Mommy Wanda. More fluff.

Summary: It's your big break, but the one person you want to support you isn't there when you need her.

A/N: I wrote this in like 24 hours, but yolo.

Part Two Part Three

“I’m so proud of you, darlin’.” The woman’s voice filled the calmness surrounding the two of you with a certain… delicacy that could only be made by her. It had a certain drawl to it, words weighed down by the sticky sweetness of the southern accent that clung thickly to her honey filled words. Everything about the moment was soft, something Wanda gave you endlessly, especially after the hours upon hours you had spent on your work.

It had taken you years to get to this point. To be able to finally put it up on display for the rest of the world, except for one. Wanda. You hadn’t stopped talking about it for weeks. Had it marked on every calendar the two of you shared, and even then some more.

And yet, she had missed it. Had gotten scheduled on some bullshit meeting that could get her fired from the company. You had told her multiple times that you could support the two of you, that your book would break record sales and neither of you would ever have to work again. Of course, that was wishful thinking, but it’s what had gotten you this far, isn’t it?

Wanda had left early that morning, earlier than normal, with a kiss to your head, a silent promise that she’d be home that night. It felt like a silent apology that she couldn’t make it to your first booktalk.

It was okay, though. You were a big girl who didn’t need Wanda at your side for everything you did. You tried to tell yourself that for the rest of the day, that you could do it all by yourself, even if it pulled heavily at your heart.

You did your best to pull through your day. You ate breakfast alone, debating on tearing the sticky note Wanda had left you a message on like other days she didn’t have time to eat with you before. It felt far too literal, though. Like that post it note was your heart and every little tear made it hurt even more. You settled for crumpling it up, tossing it across the empty dining table, a hard reminder of how utterly lonely you truly were.

You sat alone when you were getting your makeup done, your outfit picked out. You would blame the tears in your eyes on your makeup. Wanda was the one who dolled you up. But she had work. For hours you told yourself you could do it. You could stand up in front of a crowd and talk about the book you had spent all of your adult and most of your teen years writing, pouring every ounce of love, hatred and everything in between in it. It didn’t feel real, though.

Since you had met her, you had envisioned her next to you at this moment. Instead, you stood by yourself with a podium in front of you, the small beaded friendship bracelet twisted between your fingers. Wanda had randomly bought the kit for you one day and you had insisted she make one with you. They were matching, the only difference being your names on the piece of string.

“Thank you all again for coming.” Despite your earlier feelings of loneliness, you smiled brightly into the microphone, more than aware of the amount of photographers and press there.

Gingerly closing the book, you stepped away from the podium, scooping the item into your arms. Agatha pulled you towards a secluded corner, your team surrounding you. Right next to Wanda, she had been your number one supporter since you brought the rough draft to her. She signed you within a few hours, taking on the role as your editor and publicist like it was nothing.

“Good job out there, toots.” The brunette clapped your back, a toothy smile brightening her features. You smiled up at her, hardly able to hear her over the roar of your own heart beating along with the crowd of people ready to have their books signed by you. “Say, you keep wooing crowds like that and you’re gonna sell out in no time, kid.”

“Really?” The hope in your voice brought forth a new youthfulness to you, like you were a kid again. In a way, you were. You had wanted this since you had started writing, and here you were, your first book published and with a second well on its way.

“With that cute tush of yours? Everyone will be wanting more, sweets.” Agatha threw an over exaggerated wink at you as she laughed, using the hand that hadn’t left your shoulder as a support of sorts. Your smile faltered just slightly, a blush coloring your cheeks. It was something Wanda liked to tease you about, how easily it was to get you riled up. You would deny it forever, even though you knew she was right. “Speaking of everyone, where’s that ragamuffin of yours?”

The smile on your face almost immediately sank. You had been so busy the entire day that you hadn't had time to think about Wanda, let alone the fact that she wasn’t there. Agatha hardly noticed your change in demeanor, too focused on the buzz around you. “She… she had work.”

“Oh, that’s too bad, toots. I’m always here if you need a plus one.” Rather than comforting you, the woman shimmied beside you, yet another wink thrown your way. You had learned that she was like that sometimes. Way too much to handle. So you smiled and nodded, trying not to let the thought that your girlfriend wouldn’t be there to support you.

“Only kidding! Well, unless you two say otherwise. You know where to call me!” Agatha stepped away from her, her hand finally pulling away from your shoulder. It was the first time you felt like you could actually breathe during the entire interaction. You loved the woman, truly, but she could be a lot. “Go enjoy your party, hot stuff, you deserve it!”

And with that, the woman left, presumably to find the bar, leaving you to be pushed around by the rest of your team. You knew enough about the events of the day that you’d be signing books for the next hour, if not longer. You were grateful for all the time Wanda had spent practicing your signature, a nice, loopy design that made you feel proud of yourself. It was all you could think about as you were swept over to the long table full of your book, pushed down into the singular chair at the table, a line that was longer than it should be waiting for your signature.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

By the hour and a half mark, your hand was cramping, not used to writing with a sharpie for this long. The line felt like it had barely shrunken, still too long to see the end of. It was thrilling and disheartening at the same time; the faster you could sign all of these books and do whatever you were told, the faster you could get home to see Wanda. That had it’s own anxieties attached to it, but whether she could be here or not wouldn’t change how excited you were to see her. Sure, it sucked that she couldn’t be here. Really sucked, but you would be able to see her in a few hours and tell her all about your day. It would have to suffice.

Another hour passed before you could see the last ten or so people, the feeling of relief strong. You had been at it for over two hours now and, while you were beyond flattered and amazed to have this many people read your book, you were exhausted to say the least.

You wanted nothing more than to go home and curl up in your lovers arms, but you knew it would be at least a few more hours before that was even plausible. Faces began to meld together as the line continued to shorten, each person looking a little more like the next. As the last person approached, you breathed a sigh of relief, not even looking up as a book was slid between your hands.

“Thank you for coming.” You gave the person, a woman based on the high rise jeans and blouse they were wearing from where your eyes didn’t travel up their body, a tired smile just barely tugging at your lips.

“What? No sugar for me, sweetheart?” The words themselves made you feel gross, though the voice was recognizable. Something about the soft timber of it was reminiscent, like a fond memory you couldn’t let go of.

You were sure your confusion was evident all over your face, what with the way your eyebrows pulled together and your hand stopped moving, though you couldn’t care less if the signature was ruined or not. Your eyes traveled up the, yes, woman’s body, a familiar map of beauty stood in front of you.

“Wanda?” Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of her.

She had really gone all out, dressed as nice as possible for your big event. She wore high waisted black dress pants, paired with a deep purple blouse with even darker flowers printed across it. She was wearing your favorite wedges of hers. Her dark, faded out roots were pulled up in a half up, half down style, the long locks flowing down her back. It took everything in you to not let the tears that had filled your eyes to spill, pushing the book and marker away from you as you used the table to stand.

“Hi, pumpkin.” Wanda’s southern accent was the best thing you had heard all day, instantly warming you like nothing else had.

You all but flung yourself into her arms, uncaring of how hard you had hit the table with your thigh. Wanda would tell you to be more careful about it later, would kiss it better, you knew. You didn’t care about anything other than being in her arms, though.

“Wanda.” You all but whimpered into her neck where you had almost immediately pushed your face. She smelled the same as always, an earthy undertone that paved way to the light lavender you knew was her favorite perfume, even though she hardly used it. It fully encapsulated you, making the tears in your eyes burn even more as her arms wrapped around you.

“It’s good to see you too, sweetheart.” Wanda laughed heartily, dropping a kiss to the top of your head. Her hands ran up and down your back, a gentle strength to them that had you wanting more, to be held even closer. The hand holding your bracelet, her right hand, settled at your waist, while the other settled at the base of your head, softly carding through her hair.

She had held you like this far too many times to count, but you still melted in her hold, your breath hitching. The woman held you against her as you continued to fight off tears, taking in the sweet scent that enveloped you, as if the rest of the world didn’t exist.

Time was non-existent to you once again as she stood holding you, humming softly. The only thing that you knew was that it was nowhere near enough time when she pulled back, holding you at an arm’s length with a beaming smile. She traced her left hand up to your face, cupping your cheek as she searched your eyes. You couldn’t help but smile back, biting your lip as it continued to tremble. Wanda shook her head, tsking under breath as she dropped her hand down to grasp your chin, tugging your lip out from between your teeth.

“You did so good up there, sugar.” Wanda pressed a kiss against your cheek, easily turning your head with the finger on your chin to press another to your opposite cheek. The nudish brown pigment of her lipstick just barely transferred onto your skin, something the woman would take a wet thumb to in mere moments. She kissed your lips chastely before doing so, giving you barely enough time to process what was happening before she was licking her thumb and rubbing at the lip marks.

“B-but… you…” You did your best to protest, shaking your head from side to side as you tried to escape her grasp. None of it made sense. She would’ve just gotten off of work maybe half an hour ago and would’ve had to book it through heavy rush hour traffic to get to your talk. There’s no way she could’ve seen you on the podium, let alone giving your speech.

“I what, hun? Use your big girl words now.” The brunette fixed you with a stern look as she stopped scrubbing at your cheek, tipping your head up. You couldn’t help but stare at her. The nude lip she had brought out the green in her eyes, the bright sun shining through the open windows forming something akin to a halo around her. She was gorgeous. Something straight out of one of your stories. It helped that the main character’s love interest had more than a few things in common with the woman.

“You… you were at work.” Your head cocked to the side just slightly, something you had definitely picked up from the woman, eyebrows furrowing. You pulled at your bracelet, the elastic snapping at your skin with a nice popping noise as the beads rattled. Wanda tsked, shaking her head as she grabbed your left wrist, pity written all over her face.

“Oh my, precious. I wasn’t actually at work. I was tryin’ to surprise you.” Her lips turned downwards, bringing your wrist up to her mouth with a kiss. It was obvious she wasn’t pitying you because you had snapped yourself with your bracelet, but rather because she knew how worried you must’ve been all day. The bracelet issue just happened to be a part of it.

“And what did I tell you would happen if you kept snappin’ that bracelet?” Her tone was anything but mean, if not more questioning than condescending.

The words had you easily blushing, tilting your head down as if to hide it. “That I wouldn’t get it back until you say so.” Your right hand hung loose at your side, left still grasped by the woman. You knew her eyes would be full of sorrow if you looked up, instead keeping your eyes down as you scuffed the ball of your foot against the tile. “‘M sorry.”

“Then why do you keep doin’ it, love bug? It hurts mommy when your hurt yourself.” Wanda’s voice was as sorrowful as you knew her eyes were, a tone of hurt overflowing her words.

You couldn’t help but look up anyways, your breath hitching at the sight of glossy eyes and a frown. It wasn’t often that she got upset with you in public, yet something about the silly bracelet you wore every day had made her tear up. The sight made tears come to your own eyes, your frown mimicking hers.

“I’m sorry, I’m trying!” You pleaded softly, watching as she snaked her finger up your wrist, easily interlacing your fingers. It was hard resisting the urge to kiss her, rocking back and forth just slightly on the balls of your feet. You hadn’t meant to upset her, hadn't even realized you were fiddling with the elastic until she had said something about it.

“It’s okay, pumpkin. I know you’re tryin’ and I am so, so proud of you.” Wanda’s free hand came up to hold your cheek, smiling softly at you as her eyes roamed your body, finally taking you all in. She hadn’t seen you since the night before, unless the way you slept curled up against her this morning counted, and had been dying to see you for hours, but had held off in hopes of surprising you.

“My baby girl.” Despite the fact that you had both been moments away from crying, a fresh shade of red covered your face, a heat protruding off of your cheeks as the woman pinched it with one hand.

“Wanda.” You groaned, suddenly aware of the fact that you were very much still in public. Your body twisted with you as you glanced around the room, thankful to see that no one was paying you any attention. Which was funny, seeing as how it was your booktalk.

That being said, you could feel a pair of eyes on you that certainly weren’t Wanda’s, spinning in the woman’s arms once again until you saw your editor. She was looking at the two of you with something you couldn’t detect. Jealousy? Disdain? Whatever it was, Agatha sent you a smirk and a wink as soon as you made eye contact before turning away from you.

You turned back to Wanda, slotting yourself under her chin once more. “When can we go home?” You asked in a small voice, uncaring if she could hear you or not. Of course she could though, her lips smacking quietly together.

“Whenever you want, buttercup.” Wanda could tell something was wrong, the way her arms wrapped around you even tighter than before was enough for you to know. You took a deep breath, frantically running your hands through her long hair. It was curled, tighter than usual, but not terrible. You felt weird all of a sudden, like your editor hated you and the entire room was shrinking.

“Can… Is now okay?” You asked a little louder. Wanda nodded, only pulling away enough to lift your chin up enough to meet her eyes.

“O-okay, sweet pea. We can leave right now, that’s what you want?” The woman phrased it like a question, her voice soft if not a little confused. You had been so happy to see her just moments ago, but now wanted to go home. Sure, she knew you weren’t the biggest fan of crowds, she herself wasn’t either, but she thought you would’ve wanted to at least enjoy the party before you left.

Whatever it was, though, she was more than willing to take you home, leaving you with a kiss to let your team know you were leaving before leading you out to her car, buckling you in before taking her spot in the drivers side. She took your hand in hers, the letters of your names on your bracelets rubbing against each other as she drove off.

#jane's fics #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff imagine #mommy wanda maximoff #southern mommy wanda maximoff #potentialy jealous agatha #part one

[1-800-suck-my-clit]

I love to think that Will disrespects and is openly rude to Hannibal in front of everyone and while everyone is like "😟" Hannibal is js like "🥰yes Will"

Hannibal could be in the middle of talking about something so boring (atleast Will thinks it is) about art or how he prepared the food or anything and Will stops him mid sentence and says "do I really need to know that you grinded a cows left testicle and sprinkled its ass hair to eat this?" And Hannibal stops, looks at him as if he's to most beautiful thing in the world (he is), smiles, and says "ofcource not Dear Will, you can start eating anytime you'd like."

The rest of the table goes dead silent. the only noise that is heard is the scrapping of cutlery on Wills plate. Then Hannibal looks to the rest of the table and continues his speech, not letting anyone eat except his boy.

But this is not a daily experience. Will gets very cranky on certain days when he has to stay up late grading papers or Uncle Jack is ordering him around the city, or he had a bad empathy session, and anything sets him off. Hannibal understands this, and often let's Will have his way no matter how he said it.

But after the mood passes, Will apologizes profusely and feels like shit but Han always lies him down, kisses his forehead, massages his temples, and says:"tau niekada nereikia manęs atsiprašyti, mano mielas berniuk." Will hums into his touch and whispers a "Thank you Han" in his thick southern accent, and let's Hannibal ramble on about whatever comes to mind as Will drifts off.

#hannibal #hannigram fanfiction #hannigram fic #hannibal nbc #will graham #hannigraham #hannibal lecter #will graham is autistic #will graham is a sassy man #but hannibal loves him anyways #southern accent will graham

[immeasurable-depths]

Oh man hearing Laura and Marisha talk about Delilah getting between them is making me really want to finish the angstiest fic I’ve ever written, set just after their encounter with Delilah in Whitestone. I just can’t seem to get my brain in gear to get it across the finish line but I promise it’s good when I can eventually find the energy for it 😫

#critical role #imodna #imogen temult #laudna #laura bailey #marisha ray #imodna fic #cr campaign three #critical role spoilers #southern gothic #delilah briarwood

[overnighttosunflowers]

Summary:

Office Secret Santas are supposed to be fast, easy and cheap. At least, that’s what Imogen thinks until she draws Laudna’s name.

@lorrxrai and I wrote a holiday fic! It’s around 13k and, if I do say so myself, a delight. Enjoy, happy holidays, and wishing everyone a wonderful 2024 💜🖤💗

#imodna #imogen temult #laudna #imogen x laudna #southern gothic #my fic #lorrxrai

[wow-an-unfunny-joke]

Tell me about your autism I’m writing a fic

#I’m writing a fic that’ll just be all nine mercs being autism and how it presents differently #I’ve got plans for Sniper and Engie #cause I’m a southern autistic and I’m def making sniper low empathy #but I need to figure out how to make each mercs autistic and make it somewhat canon compliant #tf2 #tf2 medic #tf2 scout #tf2 pyro #tf2 spy #engineer tf2 #medic tf2 #pyro tf2 #spy tf2 #tf2 demoman #demoman tf2 #heavy tf2 #scout tf2 #sniper tf2 #soldier tf2 #tf fanfic #tf2 fanfiction