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tumbleweed-run · 1 year ago

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Ethereal

Kinktober Day 25 Pregnancy

It didn’t matter how many times he saw her lately, Gale’s breath caught each time. When he thought of Tav the image his mind conjured up was still the woman he met, so it was a small thrill every time she appeared in the room. She was still absolutely stunning, but the fact that she was now carrying his child did something to him viscerally.

The pregnancy was far enough along that there was no denying it. Even while fully dressed, anyone with eyes could tell Tav was carrying their child. Gale had spent much of the early months laying in bed with her caressing the growing mound that was her belly. Now he enjoyed allowing his hand to stray to her stomach, occasionally blessed with the little sensation of tiny feet against his hand.

“Getting any work done?” Tav teased from where she’d paused by the door, undoubtedly watching him watch her.

Gale glanced down at the mess of parchment in front of him, “not important.”

She laughed and walked over to him, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “What were you thinking about?”

“How lovely you look carrying our daughter,” Gale answered almost immediately.

He heard the huff from above him, an amused and exasperated noise all rolled into one. “You’re so sure about that.”

“I have it on good authority that Morena Dekarios has correctly guessed the genders of the last 5 pregnant women she’s encountered,” Gale explained for probably the hundredth time, “and Mother took one look at you and declared that our child would be a girl.”

“Is that authority Morena herself?” Tav teased had disappeared further behind him.

Gale turned and found she had settled onto the seat on the terrace. The setting sun caused her skin to glow and Gale was momentarily frozen in awe. She looked every part the goddess right now, glowing both on the inside and the out. Luckily he knew that beneath her ethereal visage laid a very human heart. Tav’s humanity was some of his favorite parts of her, making her better than any god.

“What did I do to earn the right to love you,” he asked surprising himself, the words leaving his lips before they’d even entered his brain.

Tav smiled and rolled her eyes fondly. “You’ve been yourself and that’s all I’ve ever wanted,” she said insistantly.

Admittedly they had this conversation at somewhat regular intervals. Gale would likely never accept that he was worthy of loving someone like Tav. But everytime that black urge to prove himself in increasingly grandiose ways she was there to reel him back in. Reminding Gale that she loved him exactly as he was.

He rose from his seat and went to her. Instead of taking up the rest of the space on the seat, Gale knelt before her. Placing a hand onto the swell of Tav’s stomach he leaned forward and pressed a kiss. He was rewarded with a thump against his hand. Gale chuckled and delivered another kiss.

“I can already tell this one will be a handful,” Tav said fondly placing a hand over Gale’s as another kick fluttered against her skin.

“Alright little girl,” Gale said with mock sterness, “give your mother a rest.”

Another eye roll above him but when he looked up Tav smiled and he was once more struck by her beauty and his luck.

“Let me worship you,” Gale asked softly.

Tav blushed at his request, eyes darting around, “not out here.”

“No one will see,” Gale tried to reason with her, more than happy to cast them some cover.

She shook her head still.

“Alright,” Gale conceded, “then lets go inside.”

“Uhg,” Tav whined, “I just got out here.”

Gale laughed in response and took Tav’s hands before rising to his feet, “I’ll make it worth your while, I promise.”

Tav allowed him to pull her to her feet at that promise. “You better.”

Gale lead her back inside and then further into the house towards their room. He’d considered using the couch in the study but knew their bed would be much more comfortable for her. His desire to touch her was easily outweighed by his desire to make Tav comfortable.

Once they got into the room Gale made quick work of her clothing. Unable to resist Gale leaned down and pressed yet another kiss to her bare stomach. Tav laughed and playfully pushed at his shoulder.

“I’m beginning to worry you might like be pregnant a little too much,” she accused even as she climbed onto their bed and settled against the mound of pillows that was beginning to take over their bed.

“I enjoy your body in all of it’s states,” he told her as he followed.

Gale pressed apart her legs slightly so he could kneel between them. He leaned up and captured Tav’s lips with his. She sighed into the kiss, raising up so she could deepen it. Gale was happy to let her lead for a while, resting his hands on either side of her face. The second Tav’s lips parted his tongue chased it’s way inside. He licked at the soft earthy flavor of the teas she’s begun enjoying lately until he found the flavor that was uniquely hers. They went on like this for several minutes until she was making soft noises into his mouth.

Gale broke away from Tav’s lips in order to trail kisses down her neck and across her collar bone. She relaxed back, seemingly happy to allow him his time to worship her. He trailed down into the valley between her breasts and she arched her back towards him. Taking the hint Gale kissed upwards until he could draw one of her nipples into his mouth. Tav gasped, hand raising up to thread into his hair. He swirled the nipple with his tongue, his hand raising up to gently caress its twin.

Tav moaned, legs spreading slightly in response. Gale gently pressed on of his knees forward against her core. She moaned again and ground down against his leg almost immediately. He released her nipple from his mouth and turned his attention to the other side. In the last few weeks she’d been nearly insatiable in bed, a perk of this stage of pregnancy she’d assured him. A perk Gale was all to happy to take advantage of.

When he’d spend enough time worshipping her nipples, Tav was writhing near constantly and he could feel her arousal seeping into the fabric of his pants, Gale allowed his kisses to trail lower. He spent a few moment kissing along her stomach before sliding his hands beneath her hip. Sliding back down the bed Gale gently pulled her after him until she was laying.

“Do you need a pillow?” Gale asked even as his lips trailed ever lower.

“Gale,” was Tav’s only response, a plea.

He sat up then and looked at her. “Do you need a pillow for under your hips?” He repeated.

Tav huffed, rolled her eyes, and grabbed a pillow out from the pile that was now above her head. “Yes, here,” she handed it to him.

Gale quickly helped work the pillow under her hips before returning his lips to the exact spot they’d left. Tav settled further into the bed with a contented sigh.

She was so delightfully wet when Gale finally made his way between her legs. Tav whimpered at his first lick between her folds, legs spreading even more. He was only happy to oblige to her silent request. He took his time licking every inch of her, swirling his tongue just inside her entrance. She moaned, hand finding its way back into his hair.

Gale gripped the pillow and pulled it forward so her hips tilted up a little more. “Good?” he asked.

“Yes,” she answered breathlessly, tugging softly on his hair trying to guide his mouth back down onto her.

Gale was laying flat on the bed now, hands resting under Tav’s thighs keeping them spread. As he lowered his mouth to her clit she cursed and rocked towards his lips. Gale’s hips rutted against the bed in response, his aching cock demanding attention. That was as much as he was willing to indulge it, his sole focus on sucking and licking at Tav’s clit.

She was unreserved in the sounds spilling from her lips. Moans and whimpers spilling out around the melding of his name and various curses. It was music to Gale’s ears and he moaned against her cunt. Tav gasped and pulled him closer enjoying the vibrations. Gale continued to moan as he licked, showing her just how much he loved his current position. Tav writhed and cried out above him as she came against his mouth.

Gale happily lapped at her under the waves of her orgasm stilled. Only then did he push up to sit back on his knees. Looking down at her he realized he was mistaken, she was truly ethereal now. Skin flushed, eyes dark with arousal as he hair fanned out a halo above her head. He wanted this memory burned into his brain forever, he would gladly forget every incantation to be allowed that.

“Gale,” Tav whispered, raising her hand to him after allowing him to look a her for several moments.

“I’m here,” he promised taking her hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

“Yes but I want you up here,” she said and tugged at his hand until he leaned back over her to press a kiss against her lips.

“And here,” Tav continued, dragging a leg behind his thighs until he leaned forward, rocking his clothed cock against her core.

Who was he to deny her? Gale stripped as quickly as possible, eyes only leaving Tav when they absolutely had to.

“Like this?” He asked leaning over her when he was done, allowing his cock to brush against her folds.

“No,” Tav shook her head and pushed at his shoulders.

Gale sat back confused. Tav sat herself up and shuffled her body to the side of where she’d been. “I want to be on top,” she insisted.

“Are you sure?” Gale checked even as he shuffled his body into the space she’d just vacated.

Tav nodded and as soon as he stopped moving she threw her leg over his waist. She settled back until his cock was nestled between her legs, not inside just yet. Tav slowly rocked her hips against him whimpering each time his cockhead bumped against her clit. His hips followed her movements after a little, chasing after every one of her movements. Gale was happy to be like this for a while, lazily thrusting between her folds.

Tav was the one who grew impatient. Planting one foot into the bed she rose up and grasped his cock by the base. Gale knew her well enough to place his hands on her hips and when she began to sink down onto him he forced her to move slowly. She tried to glare at him but her eyes were heavily lidded in pleasure with each little bit he allowed her to sink down. Slowly they went until she was settled flush against him. Gale bit his lip in restraint as he wanted to allow Tav a moment to adjust

“I’m not fragile,” She insisted rolling her hips with him deep inside of her.

“Yes, but you are precious,” Gale reasoned, voice rough.

Tav didn’t try and argue only continued to roll her hips. Gale granted her a few more moments before releasing her hips and gently rocking up into her. Tav quickly rose up and then allowed herself to slide back down his cock. Each time she did this she swiveled her hips slightly. Gale thrust up into her as she quickened her pace, one hand resting on his chest for support.

She slowed eventually, movement becoming less smooth, she groaned in frustration. Tav’s muscles undoubtedly were growing tired. Gale planted his own feet into the bed and held onto her hips. He fucked up into her, taking over the motions entirely now. He could no longer tell who was making what noises.

Gale came first, hips thrusting up harder than he meant. He then pinned their hips together, a habit that would likely never die, as he filled her. Gale held her there until his orgasm faded. He quickly moved his hand, pressing two fingers between his skin and her’s until he found Tav’s clit.

He worked it, quickly using some of his cum that had begun leaking from her as lubrication as he rubbed. She squirmed cried out, fingers flexing on his chest until her nails broke the skin. He kept up with his fingers until only a little while later Tav came again, cunt spasming against his softening cock. She collapsed against him as she came.

Gale gently rolled them onto their sides so her stomach was no longer trapped between them. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You are so beautiful,” he murmured against her skin. Tav leaned her head further against his lips and sighed happily.

#Gale x Tav #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #kinktober 2023 #kinktober 2023 pregnancy #only 6 days left!

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bluestar22x · 1 year ago

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The Future

The Outcast - Epilogue: The Future

Summary: Just like winter, the end is just the beginning

Pairing: Pero Tovar x F!Reader

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 2,700 (ish)

Warnings: Mention of a baby goat (kid) having died, angst, pregnancy plot, non-graphic labor and birth, fluff, pov changes, quintessential happy ending

Author’s Note: This is a very self indulgent bonus part - you can read the first four parts and have a satisfying ending if this kind of ending isn't your thing. For those who do like this kind of ending guess what my favorite line(s) to write was.

Also, any names I used in this fic were themed and/or meaningful. And if one of my running themes of relating winter with life instead of death wasn't apparent, it should be now.

xxx

Death is far from a stranger on a functioning farm. Even though you usually sold your old, infertile goats to the nearest village's butcher instead of culling them yourself, that still left a whole slew of other ways for you to witness it. Illness, lethal injuries, stillbirths, and difficult deliveries that ended badly for the doe or her offspring or both had all occurred on your farm more than once.

You'd accepted it, and your need to hunt, a long time ago, because you loved the simplicity of this kind of life. You loved being mostly self reliant, knowing you could be fully self reliant if need be, and you loved the companionship of the animals you were dependent on.

Sometimes though, the deaths still hurt. Like when River, your first horse and Meadow's mother had died a few years after you'd moved onto the mountain, due to colic. She'd been in so much pain for so long you'd been forced to end her misery with a knife. The senseless guilt you'd felt after had lasted for weeks.

That was the most you'd ever cried over losing an animal, until one spring morning a year after Pero had decided to stay.

You tried to hide how upset you were by the latest death on the farm when you returned to the cottage to cook a morning meal for you both, but as soon as he followed you inside after an hour of chomping wood, you uncharacteristically started sobbing on sight of him.

Eyes filled with concern, your husband silently approached and gathered you up in his arms, kissing your temple as he did so. You took a deep breath and focused on his soothing warmth, his reassuring broad hands that slid up and down your spine, trying to put yourself back together.

"What has you so upset, mi esposa?" he eventually asked, nuzzling the side of your face, his short beard scraping against it lightly.

You stepped away from him, leaned against the kitchen counter top on one hand, and looked back to him. "It's one of Sweets' kids, the one who was sick, I found her dead this morning."

"I'm sorry cariño," he said quietly, dark eyes serious. "I know how hard you tried to save her."

You shook your head fiercely. "It's not that, I could handle that, it has happened several times before, but it's the way Sweets reacted when I removed the body from the paddock. She started bleating and desperately searching for her, even though she had her other new kid alongside her, even though the body had been cold when I discovered it. Hearing those sounds from her broke my heart."

"It doesn't help I kept thinking -," you paused, eyes widening as you realized what you'd been about to say.

Pero frowned at the way you'd cut yourself off. "It doesn't help what?" he prompted gently.

You sucked in a deep, shaky breath. You figured you might as well not hide it from him. "It doesn't help I kept imagining what she was feeling. Putting myself in her place. I don't think I could handle it if I lost the baby that way."

"The baby," Pero repeated, lips parting in surprise. He reached out to you and tugged you back to him, his arm looped around your waist. "Mi amor, are you saying what I think you are?"

You nodded, fresh tears flooding your eyes, joy overcoming your trepidation. "I am. It's still early, I'm probably only two months or so along, but I'm certain."

You hadn't bled in that time, and had felt nauseous many times over the previous month, neither of which was normal for you. Your emotions had been all over the place lately too. You'd never been a super stoic character, but you were usually far from the emotional wreck you felt like that morning.

Pero beamed at you and the shock of it left you breathless. It was a rare sight, his smile, let alone one that obvious. He leaned forward and kissed your cheek softly, lovingly, showing more affection than you'd once thought him capable of. "Everything will be alright, cariño," he reassured you.

It was not something he could actually promise, no man could act as a god, but his words comforted you anyway.

"I'll need to find a midwife who would be willing to stay the winter with us," you told him nervously. "If I'm correct, the baby will be born in the final days of the year or the early ones of the next. The passage will be closed off by then. When my sister visits I'll ask her to help me search for one."

Pero caressed your cheek with a thumb. "I'm sure an older one without family to care for would agree to stay with us in exchange for coin and free room and board. If not, I will convince them."

You arched your eyebrows, understanding what he meant. "I appreciate the offer, but please don't threaten any of the village midwives, especially the elderly."

"I cannot make any promises, mi amor."

Winter had never come faster. Not because it actually arrived sooner, but because there was so much to do before then. In the late spring you and Pero planted your garden and a part of the field with enough crops to keep all the animals and yourselves through the winter.

In the early summer your sister and her husband visited with their four children, two girls and two boys, and for a week the tiny cottage was chaotic. The children were always running off doing something adventurous while your sister helped you milk the goats and Pero and your brother in law worked together to build an additional room to the cottage.

As summer neared its end and your belly rounded, you began to focus on smaller tasks. You still cooked and cleaned, you still took care of the horses and goats, and some of the weeding in the small garden behind the cottage, but Pero assisted you and he took on the tasks that were more dangerous by himself, like hunting. He did the extra work gladly, wanting to do everything he could for you, never feeling like he could do enough.

Harvest came around and your brother in law returned to help with the crops, the midwife your sister had found for you in tow. Her name was Franny, and she was strict about what you could and could not do, having you rest most of the day when she wasn't helping you knit baby clothes, but she was kind, reminding Pero of the one grandmother he knew for only a decade before she passed. It took him time to get used to another adult being in the cottage for so long, but he figured a newborn would be an even bigger adjustment, so he adjusted.

The first snowfall was almost a shock, the months having flown by in a blur, and Pero began to feel anxious. Even with Franny in the spare room, what would later become the baby's room, being closed off from the village for a whole season with you in your condition and eventually a newborn worried him. So many things could go wrong, you of all people knew that, but you would have never agreed to leave the farm. As far as you were concerned if Franny couldn't help you, nobody could, and he supposed you were probably right.

Your prediction about your due date turned out to be precise, your first pangs of labor beginning during an early afternoon at the start of the new year.

He'd found you in the barn, sitting on a square bale of hay with an arm curled around the huge swell at your abdomen, grimacing as you endured the first painful wave.

And then everything moved far too slow. He helped you into the cottage and watched as Franny got to work, prepping for the delivery, clueless about what he could do. Franny was no help there. Traditional as could be, she would've shooed him out of the cottage for the day, no matter the cold, if you hadn't insisted he stay.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to stay, as useless as he felt, as fearful as he felt, but he did it for you. He scraped his mind for ways to help all the while, assisting a dubious Franny in setting up the bed for you, gathering enough firewood to keep your home warm for a couple days, and caring for all the animals on his own as quickly as he could before returning to your side to let you squeeze his hand as your contractions continued to strengthen at an agonizingly slow pace.

It wasn't until morning the next day that Franny declared it was time for you to push. She had you sit up in bed and undress halfway with Pero's help before she prompted you to spread your legs and bend your knees. You pressed your back to Pero's chest after, using his body to support your own.

Through gritted teeth you bore down with several contractions, panting and breaking out in a sweat from your efforts. Pero kept his face close to yours, murmuring encouragement into your ear as you struggled. And when you reached back and grasped one of his a thighs tightly in an attempt to distract yourself, he let you, not caring whether or not it bruised under your fingertips if it helped you cope.

As the minutes passed, as you tired, your chest rising and falling rapidly, your legs trembling, he became concerned something might be wrong, but Franny remained calm, continuously urging you to keep going.

"A couple more," she promised you. "A couple more good solid pushes and it'll be over, sweetie. Don't give up now."

Pero saw it in your eyes, the moment you mentally and physically dug your heels in and began pushing with renewed determination, and he was awed, not sure how you'd come by the reserve.

Finally your laboring paid off and you slumped backwards into his arms, relief washing over your face as a sharp wail pierced the air.

He glanced from you to the small, wet infant flailing in Franny's arms, and his world shifted.

Outside, snow began to fall.

Ten years later...

"Why do I have to go?" the seven year old girl before you bemoaned. "Why can't I stay here?"

"You're not old enough to stay here by yourself, Stela," you explained. "Your brother wouldn't even be allowed to stay by himself and he's three years older than you."

"He's old," she stated and you couldn't help but chuckle.

"Maybe, but still not old enough."

Stela pouted at you then continued to put on her winter coat and boots, a long dramatic sigh slipping from her as she stood up from the kitchen chair she'd been sitting in. You thought she was far too young to be turning into a moody teenager, but guessed it was the part she'd inherited from her father breaking through.

You finished assisting her five year old sister, Lene, with her coat before leading them both outside into the frigid night. Lene immediately dove head first into the fresh snow layered on the ground gleefully, while her older sister folded her arms and stomped her way over to the front of the barn where Pero and her brother William were waiting for them.

Out of all of your children, William looked most like his father, his eye shape, chin, and nose all miniature copycats of Pero's. Stela had his eyes, but was more like you, physically, and Lene reminded you of your sister. However, they all shared Pero's dark hair and eyes.

"Ready to ride?" Pero quizzed Stela as she trudged right past him. He frowned when she showed no sign of hearing him and met your eyes. "What is she upset about this time?"

"She's angry about being outvoted," you replied. "Said she didn't want to see the stupid lights again and wanted to stay home. She's definitely your daughter."

Pero chuckled and pulled you against him at the hip with one hand as you both trailed your children into the barn to saddle up the horses.

Lene assisted her father with Orion, a four year old colt who was the youngest offspring of the since retired Clover and Thor, grandson to the deceased Meadow, and Pero's new mount. Like his sire, Orion was jet black in color, except for the small crystal shaped star marking that was usually hidden under his forelock. His surprisingly calm disposition was more like Clover though.

Your latest mount, a five year old solid bay mare named Aspen who was Orion's full sibling, was equally as quiet once she'd settled into adulthood, and you had her tacked in no time as Stela watched, still moping.

Last was Thunder, an eight year old bay gelding with a stripe shaped like a lightning bolt running down his face. The most well behaved and eldest offspring of Clover and Thor, Thunder had been assigned to William when he got old enough to start riding on his own.

He was still too tall for William to saddle him, so Pero flung it over the horse's back for him, but the young boy took care of the rest, a true horseman despite his youth.

Once you, Pero, and William led your horses outside the girls approached, Stela hesitantly letting Pero boost her up onto Orion, and Lene begging you to set her in Aspen's saddle. You and Pero climbed on your horses so you were behind them while William found a stump to help propel himself onto Thunder's back.

Someday the children would learn how to ride bareback, but it would not be that night, so you lived with it, though the wind was making you shiver and yearn for the shared body heat.

You led the way up the mountain as was tradition, your family making the trip at least once a winter, more if the children wanted to ride out that far in the dark.

Lene loved it. Loved everything, really. The girl had more positivity and enthusiasm than you and Pero could've ever had combined.

William enjoyed it as well, already into nature as much as you were, and just as quiet about it.

And Stela, well, she often spent most of the ride brooding and complaining about the cold. That night was no different.

Once you reached your destination, you, Pero, and William slowed your horses to a stop a few yards from the edge with your horses shoulder to shoulder so everyone had a great view of the lights.

While the children had grown older (far too quickly), and you and Pero had long since started to grey, the lights had remained the same, seemingly everlasting, tying the years of memories you'd shared together as they shimmered in the sky.

You looked to each of your children in turn and smiled at the delight on their faces, even Stela's, before you glanced to Pero, who was studying your face. You hoped he would never tire of it, cause you certainly wouldn't tire of looking at him, especially when he was holding your middle child by the hip to steady her, to make sure she wouldn't fall off Orion. He was always watching out for his children like that and whenever you witnessed it first hand your heart always threatened to combust.

Fate was not something you'd believed in when you were young, but the older you got, the more you weren't so convinced there wasn't something bigger out there at least nudging you towards the future you were supposed to live out. How else could you have been so lucky to find Pero in time? How else could he have been so lucky to have been chased up your mountain instead of any of the others in the chain that were uninhabited?

One change in events and you'd have never met, or he'd have never turned back come spring. And then you would've never married, and your children would've never been born. You would have spent the rest of your life in tranquility, happy, sure, but never quite fulfilled.

Whether or not fate was real, you were grateful.

You stretched your hand out towards Pero's and he automatically intertwined his fingers with yours, having long lost a hesitancy he'd had towards sharing that kind of intimacy with you.

"Let's head back home," you said simply, and he nodded, turning Orion away from you, for once choosing to take lead.

Guiding you into your future, like you had guided him home.

xxx

Tagged: @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed

xxx

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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#Pero Tovar #The Great Wall #Pero Fanfic (Mine)#The Great Wall Fanfic #X Reader #The Outcast Series

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thedrarrylibrarian · 2 years ago

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One of my favorite things about doing Happy Hour is facilitating guests and encouraging them to be creative with their recs. Whether you want to format with bullet points or use emojis or write a paragraph-form rec, I love seeing guests give their favorite ficswith their style. When I asked our wonderful @phdmama to join and be a Happy Hour guest, she had the wonderful idea to change it up a bit and give her re-read recs, and I think you'll be so thrilled with what she came up with. Enjoy!

When The Drarry Librarian invited me to participate in Happy Hour, I was SO excited and honored, because, well - they’re doing such wonderful lovely things in fandom, and who doesn’t adore hyping up a fic they love? But as I thought about it, I realized that so many of the fics I wanted to rec were older and well-known, but they’re the fics that came to my mind because I’ve read them so many times.

Which got me to thinking about the role of rereading in fandom, and how it works for me. Now, I know there are lots of people who never reread, and there are lots of people who maybe reread occasionally. (This is actually one of the things I adore about fandom, all the beautiful differences we bring to the table!) That’s just not how my mind works. I’ve always been a VERY COMMITTED (aka deeply obsessive) reader and as I think back over my reading life, I’ve also always been a REreader.

Reading, quite literally, has saved my life and transformed it. So I thought I’d highlight of few of those fics that have impacted me so profoundly. These fics are comfort food for my brain. These are fics I come back to, over and over and over again. They live in my soul. (For the purposes of this piece, I’ll stick to Drarry fics, but there are these special fics in every fandom I read in, and we all know, I read very widely in lots of fandoms - it’s truly an embarrassment of riches!)

Two notes:

I would recommend pretty much anything by these authors (read the tags etc etc) &

Limiting myself to just a few was SO SO difficult and I know I’m leaving out so many of my favorite authors and fics but I wanted to ACTUALLy write this!

Foundations by saras_girl (236,075 words, rated E)

When one door closes, another one opens – with a bit of a push. Life, love and complications. [sequel to Reparations]

Now, I could probably put most of saras-girl’s fics on this list and call it a day, but this fic (the whole ‘verse honestly) hits me on so many levels. From a narrative standpoint, I absolutely adore the idea of Healer Harry, and this whole world is just so rich and fully realized. This fic hits the therapist/healer in me and it speaks to the way so many healers are, just as Draco is, so wounded and in our own journey. But even more so, this fic gave me a tool for when I was navigating my father’s dying, the tool of, “in this space, we can say whatever we want, whatever we’re thinking and feeling, without any apologizing, equivocating or shaming ourselves.” (The “we” in this case was my sister and me.) It felt like because I had read this, it gave me permission to live it, and I cannot begin to explain how necessary it was for me during that incredibly painful time. This fic hits grief and loss and how hard life can be sometimes but also it’s so beautifully healing.

One moment that gets me:

“Don’t say anything,” Harry pleads, and it’s almost a whisper. He doesn’t want to hear any

reassuring words, were Draco inclined to begin offering them.

“What makes you think there’s anything I could say?” Draco murmurs against his ear and holds him tighter.

The Light More Beautiful by @firethesound (81,225 words, rated E)

Thirteen years after Draco accepts Potter's help escaping the horror of his sixth year, he returns to England where he makes the unfortunate discovery that Potter is still as obnoxious as ever. And worse, more than a decade overseas hasn't been enough to dim Draco's obsession with him.

I think this is one of the first Drarry fics I ever really just fell head over heels in love with. This was in my early days of navigating AO3 and I really didn’t understand it all. I read the fic, and lost track of it, and was thinking about it several months later. I ended up going through my entire history (IT TOOK A LONG TIME PALS) to find it because I just remembered loving it so much. Every time I reread it, I just fall more and more in love with it. I love that these are imperfect people, who’ve learned and grown and changed. I love the narrative voice in this - I think this fic really shaped both what I love to read (a sort of spare, dry, very funny until you get PUNCHED IN THE FEELINGS kind of voice) but also my own writing. This is the kind of voice I aspire to.

A moment (one of many) that makes me laugh:

“Fuck off,” Draco says again, slapping his hand away. So much for Potter keeping his hands to himself.

“Come on!” Potter slides off the table, grabs him and pulls him into an awkward, shuffling sort of dance that consists mostly of hip-grinding and arse-groping and, to Draco’s horror, he starts belting out lyrics. Draco thinks he’s getting them horribly wrong until it clicks that Potter’s just making them up as he goes along. About the two of them. And well now, that’s just inappropriate.

“Stop it!” Draco says, trying to push Potter off him. It’s a struggle to keep from laughing, but he knows if he does it’ll only egg Potter on. “You’re not even singing the right words.” He doesn’t succeed in dislodging him. Merlin, Potter’s like an octopus. An octopus with a terrible singing voice and no sense of rhythm and a somewhat frightening sense of humour.

Draco finally makes him shut up by sticking his tongue in Potter’s mouth, and mercifully Potter’s more interested in snogging than in continuing his ridiculous made-up lyrics.

Balance, Imperfect by @bixgirl1 (91,000 words, rated E)

When Harry sustains an injury in the line of work, he no longer knows how to navigate the life he loved, and finds help and solace from the most unexpected source.

I was sort of wary going into this one. I have very complicated feelings about relationships between healers and their patients, and normally avoid that dynamic but this was recommended to me (I can’t even remember by whom) and I am so thankful I did try it, because it’s another one of my all-time favorites. This is another fic that really dives into the absolute complexity of disability, trauma and healing. We have real people who are amazing and flawed and beautiful and so, so real. One of the things I also love about this fic is that Harry isn’t “fixed” by magic - he heals, and he adapts but he’s profoundly changed by his experiences, and as a trauma survivor, this just resonated so so deeply for me.

A beautiful, poignant moment:

When Malfoy finally leaves him alone at the end of the night, Harry exhales for the first time in what feels like hours. His body feels tight and confusing; he wants to rage and throw things at the other man, wants to refuse his aid.

But there was a moment when Malfoy seemed so assured, so fucking confident that he could help, that Harry had been dazed with the force of his own longing, but couldn’t bring himself to ask if that help would be able to make him whole again.

He didn’t think he could stand hearing the word no.

Aurora by @wolfpants (5,230 words, rated M)

Eighth Year at a half-built Hogwarts, and Harry is not following Draco Malfoy anymore. At least, that's what he's telling himself.

This fic just breaks my heart in the most beautiful way (which wolfie knows cuz I just screech about it periodically). I love so many of the different iterations of post-war Harry but this is absolutely one of my favorites. He’s lost and struggling to find a way, and I love that journey for him. Wolfie’s such a wonderful writer, and this whole fic is just so delicate and beautiful.

A moment that makes me cry EVERY SINGLE TIME (this writing OMG):

And that was how the two of them found themselves in an intense and hushed conversation out on the fields, the same fields Harry watched Charlie and Nicu kiss, where Ginny demanded too much of him and Harry cracked under her questions, questions, questions.

They came back to the house together, sticky-cheeked and red-eyed, and a week later, it all became clearer to Harry when Ron asked him about it on one of their forest walks. It became clearer when Harry had planted a misdirected kiss of his own to his friend’s lips, and Ron had let him, and had, for a while, allowed it to continue, until he slid his fingers gently over the nape of Harry’s neck and pressed their foreheads together and let Harry cry instead, and he told him, "it’s alright, it’s alright mate, no one’s going to hate you for this, it’s alright, we all love you, you just have to talk to us, you just have to know that we’re here for you, yeah? No matter who you are, alright? It’s alright. We just want you to be happy. It’s all we want."

Believe me when I say, there are SO SO many fics from so many brilliant writers that I wanted to include, it was incredibly hard to narrow down. I feel like I say this over and over again, but I’m so so grateful to all of you for sharing your gifts with fandom in all the ways you do. They’ve transformed my life in deep, profound, and permanent ways. Thank you.

And a huge thank you to thedrarrylibrarian for letting me share these thoughts and fics with you!!!

- xox phdmama

Thank you so much @phdmama for the amazing recs! It was a delight to have you join us!

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simplyclary · 1 year ago

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Of All Places, Why Paris?

(Screenshot by me)

*This is a break from all the purely TZP related content I've been putting out here and that content shall resume in a day or two but for now, have a Henry related post* ;)

Have you ever wondered about the specificity of Henry's answer to Alex when Henry said that he would live in Paris if he was an anonymous person in the world? Like why Paris? Henry could've chosen Italy, Germany, Switzerland, or Greece which are all lovely places but no, he chose Paris, France specifically.

I pondered on his answer for a little bit and I think I have an explanation for it. This is me sharing that explanation with you guys, if you also wondered about the reason why Henry wanted to live in Paris.

Paris, the capital of France is known as many things, the "City of Love (and Romance)", the "Fashion Capital" of the world and the "City of Lights". To be completely honest, Paris is one of my dream cities to visit since I was a young girl. I've always wanted to see the lights of the Eiffel Tower, go inside the Louvre Museum, visit the Notre Dame Cathedral, eat authentic French food and more.

I'll move on to the main point here before I get sidetracked by my random thoughts...

Henry was so specific when he told Alex that he wanted to live in Paris given the chance of being an anonymous person in the world. I think that given the chance, Henry wanted to live a life that is authentic to who he is and far from the conformities and traditions that force him to not live his life as a gay man.

Back in the olden days and even until now, being gay is not considered to be illegal in Paris. The city even has a very lively queer night life that celebrates all types of sexualities. This is the exact opposite of what is in the traditional English way of life, especially in the Royal Family, which is where Henry belongs in.

To quote what Nora said to Alex "Princes aren't allowed to be gay". Key word is allowed and so that means that until tradition changes, Henry is trapped in his "closet" and is forced to conform to something that is not authentic to him. Merely thinking about this just breaks my heart.

I also want to share some insights from an interview of a favorite author of mine, Cassandra Clare. For those who don't know, Cassandra Clare is the author of the bestselling Shadowhunters Chronicles (which is one of my favorite sagas of all time) and she has introduced me to a lot of my favorite queer characters, some of them also share the same predicament as Henry.

In one of her interviews, Cassie shared that queer people, especially gay men during the Victorian and Edwardian era, go to Paris for one thing: freedom. In Paris, these gay men can live their authentic selves without the fear of being judged by society and even those closest to them like their family and friends. This is also one of the biggest reasons why in one of her trilogies, about a couple of queer characters always reference going to Paris.

Going back to Henry, this idea can be applied because he wants to live his life freely and openly. He even mentions it to Alex during their Paris stroll that only his sister Bea fully knows about him. His mom probably suspects, his brother Philip is completely oblivious and his grandfather, the king, is a cold and hard realist.

Henry also mentioned to Bea after he returns to Kensington from Texas that the idea of royalty in the 21st century is antiquated, which is true because the royals live by tradition and most of them are not willing to change it, which is heartbreaking.

Also, in the film, Henry's grandfather states that the nation simply will not accept a prince who is homosexual. This hurts and angers me at the same time because they already live in the 21st century and yet they're acting as if it's the Victorian or Edwardian era where being gay is not allowed.

This turned out to be pretty lengthy and I may have veered off the tracks a bit at some parts but the main point is that Henry wanted to live in Paris because in Paris, he can live his life as a gay man who has nothing to worry about, not bound by traditions, simply free and happy in his own authentic self.

That's all my thoughts, folks. Note that all of these are my personal thoughts. Feel free to let me know your thoughts.

I did like writing this post and sharing my thoughts with you. Henry deserves the biggest hug and lots of support after everything he's been through and I'm happy Alex is with him.

Now, back to regularly-scheduled TZP-related posts for the rest of the year....(Partly kidding because a thought about Henry/Nicholas might pop up in my brain randomly and if I feel the need to share it, I'll definitely share it here).

Be well and all my love. Have a lovely day/night wherever you guys are.

#rwrb movie #red white and royal blue #prince henry rwrb #henry fox mountchristen windsor #nicholas galitzine #taylor zakhar perez #alex claremont diaz #rwrb spoilers

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wondereads · 2 years ago

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June Reading Wrap-Up

Reviews and thoughts under the cut

Into the Wild by Erin Hunter (7/10)

I am rereading the Warriors series with some of my friends, so this is the beginning of a hefty endeavor, especially considering how much more has been published since I last read it. While I remember some crazy stuff from this series, the first book is pretty standard. Honestly, you could probably transplant this plot into a high fantasy and nothing would be amiss. I do appreciate that even with a name like ShadowClan and their constant antagonism towards ThunderClan, the Erins did not decide to just straight make an entire Clan evil and instead create a corrupt ruler instead. As someone who has read the books before and is now like twice the target age, everything's very predictable, but I can definitely see some twists taking a fourth grader by surprise. After dwelling on it for a little while though, and putting nostalgia aside, I decided to drop all my Warriors scores by one; the writing is just mediocre.

Keeper of the Lost Cities by Shannon Messenger (9/10)

Another reread, I find the plot to this book super engaging, especially for middle grade, and it does a great job setting up a conflict that will last for over nine installments. The pacing is great, keeping the major reveals for later without stalling in the middle, and there's a ton of fun worldbuilding. Sophie is, obviously, ridiculously overpowered, but that presents a ton of obstacles by itself, and I find it incredibly interesting that she has to deal with her own existence not fully being her own, a complex concept for middle grade. I will say that, while not unexpected, the weird focus on romance was a little grating at times. Connected to that, I'm sorry, but I just don't like Dex. I can tolerate him, but I think the breaking point is when Sophie tells him some really devastating news for her and he just focuses on what it means for him.

The Spirit Bares Its Teeth by Andrew Joseph White (9/10)

This book was amazing. There are very few bad things I could say about it, and most of those are personal preference. Now, it isn't for everyone, as it's basically gothic horror to the extreme with some very sensitive topics. However, as long as you can stomach this sort of thing, I highly recommend this book. It's dark, tense, and not without some hope. My one technical gripe is how perfect Daphne seems, but that can be easily brushed past. I really liked the writing, especially with how the author played with the style and actual look of it.

Fire and Ice by Erin Hunter (6/10)

This book is probably my least favorite of the first series of Warriors. I feel like there are a lot of easily avoidable conflicts and some very bad decision making by Fireheart, Graystripe, and a bunch of other characters. Also, there isn't much progress towards the overarching plot of the series. A lot of stuff is set up, but, particularly when it comes to Fireheart's suspicions of Tigerclaw, we're mostly just back where we started. I will say that I really like the introduction of a lot of characters, namely the WindClan cats, Silverstream, Cinderpaw, and Cloudkit. Also, Sandstorm gets a lot of character development in this book, and I really like how she is gradually warming up to Fireheart. On the other hand, Graystripe is definitely on the outs with me. I always remember that Fireheart was basically Brackenpaw's mentor.

Lioness Rampant by Tamora Pierce (9/10)

This concludes my reread of Song of the Lioness! I'll be continuing with The Immortals Quartet soon, but for now, I really like the ending to this series. This is likely the saddest book in the series with two major deaths, and no, Liam is not included in that, good riddance. Honestly, my retching whenever he started talking is what brought this down from a 10 for me. Alanna has grown so much since the beginning of the series, coming to a place where she can accept love and femininity without letting it affect her own goals. One thing I really like is how close she, Jon, and George are despite their complicated romantic pasts with each other. The fact that their friendship takes precedence over anything else means so much to me.

The Raven King by Nora Sakavic (8/10)

There truly must be something wrong with me to willingly continue the All for the Game series. I am being so deadly serious when I say these books are horrendously written. It's based on a sport that's basically fancy lacrosse that is given the bare minimum explanation, the pacing is all over the place, and the plot is poorly connected if not outright nonsensical. And yet here I am. I think this series, thanks to strangely evocative characters and its absurdist plotlines, evokes the same feelings as fanfiction. As an actual published novel, this is a garbage fire. As something fun and quick to read, it hits every button. The absolute misery Neil goes through only to be put back together by his team and his not-boyfriend just works. I immensely enjoyed myself, but also 0/10 never read these books.

The King's Men by Nora Sakavic (7/10)

This book being the longest of the series makes sense, but I still don't think it was enough. Everything I said about The Raven King applies to this book, and I'm incredibly feral about Neil and Andrew. However, the ending is rushed to the extreme. The resolution is pretty unsatisfying, and I feel like there's still a lot of character stuff to be sorted out, particularly concerning Andrew. The ending was just way too abrupt, and I wish the epilogue had been a proper chapter with a different epilogue set in the weeks/months after the finals. Well, that's what fanfiction is for, and it will probably be better written than these books.

Exile by Shannon Messenger (8/10)

Another second in series, and another with some dubious character decisions. While I really like this series and think the plot progresses significantly in this book, the way Sophie is treated just makes my blood boil. You're telling me that you brought a thirteen-year-old to one of the most dangerous places in your world to help with an incredibly delicate process and then got mad when she messed up?? Are you kidding me? Alden's insane for having her do it, the Council is irresponsible for approving it and then getting on her back, and Fitz in particular really needs to shut his mouth. I did like that we got to see the real beginnings of Sophie and Keefe's relationship, one of my favorites in the series, and I love how complicated yet genuine Grady and Edaline are.

The Cruel Prince by Holly Black (9/10)

Guys, I don't think you understand how much of a chokehold this series has on me. I have a whole plan for how my summer reading's gonna go, and I throw it all out the window because I can't stay away from Folk of the Air for so long. Jude has to be one of my favorite protagonists ever; I love how ruthless and dedicated she is, and I love her and Cardan's relationship. It's super toxic and unhealthy, but it works for them. I love dark faerie lore, and the way Black uses it to trick the reader and make engaging intrigue is just so good.

Forest of Secrets by Erin Hunter (7/10)

After the lull that was Fire and Ice, this book picks up quite a bit, especially at the end. It still is so funny to me that this plot could be transplanted into a high fantasy novel and nothing would be out of place. There's forbidden romance, a major natural disaster, a tragic miscarriage, and a betrayal in pursuit of power. Not to mention the secret (aha get it because of the title) Fireheart discovers about Bluestar and some RiverClan cats. This book is a major turning point for the series as one major character will no longer be around as often and Tigerclaw has now officially made his move. Very fun, but also just not well-written enough for me to bump this past a 7.

Twisted Love by Ana Huang (DNF @ 60%, 3/10)

I just really couldn’t make myself continue this book, but I did make it past my threshold to rate a book (halfway). Contemporary romances are really hit or miss for me, and this was a definite miss. It was boring, unreasonable in a way that defies even romance logic, and the toxic masculinity from the male lead was horrendous. The main character had no discernable personality traits other than sweeter than sugar, and the whole plot was disjointed and forced. I did bump this from a 2 to a 3 simply because I can see how this appeals to some people, and my genre bias is probably coming into play.

Everblaze by Shannon Messenger (9/10)

I think Everblaze marks a significant turning point in the Keeper books. This is the first time we start really interacting with species outside elves, specifically politically, and it's the first time doubt in the council comes front and center. The books are starting to explore what the worldbuilding actually means, and it means a lot of dubious things when it comes to control and privacy. The development at the very end (and I mean very, literally last page) disrupts the pattern that has been set in these books so far, and it definitely makes you want to keep reading. Fitz and Biana sufficiently redeem themselves in this one, but Dex is going to have to step it the fuck up before I even consider giving him another chance, especially since I already don't like his pushy romantic feelings for Sophie. As always, my favorite relationships lie in Sophie and Keefe and Sophie and Grady and Edaline, the latter of which really stood out this book.

The Wicked King by Holly Black (10/10)

The Wicked King is absolutely my favorite book of Folk of the Air. I just love magical politicking, and Jude does it so well. This sounds weird, but her time in the Undersea is a part that has always stuck with me. She's obviously miserable, but I think it's when I realized just how far Jude would go for her ambitions (and just how far Cardan would go for her) and I love it. Speaking of Cardan, the build in their relationship is so well done; a true enemies-to-lovers arc if there ever was one. As much as I know what's really going on with the twist at the end, it still hurt to read. I enjoyed this reread so much that I ended up changing my rating from a 9 to a 10 because I really can't think of anything to criticize about this book.

Bonded By Thorns by Elizabeth Helen (9/10)

I have officially gotten Kindle Unlimited, and I picked this book up on a whim. I've seen some stuff about it on social media, and it was just so much fun. It is very much a fantasy romance with far more focus on the relationships than the plot or worldbuilding, but they definitely weren't lacking. It's clearly a Beauty and the Beast retelling (specifically the Disney version), but the addition of some magical shenanigans and an extra villain really freshen it up. Despite not being a very plot-heavy book, it's a great length that never really drags. A lot of fantasy romances tend to move very slowly, but this one didn't, and I really like it. Also, the love interests are distinct and quite complex. My one dislike lies in the main character, who is very much a typical protagonist for this genre. Easy to read through the eyes of but not exactly super compelling.

Woven By Gold by Elizabeth Helen (8/10)

I immediately picked up the sequel to Bonded By Thorns since it was such a fun read. As with the first one, the romance is very strong and probably my favorite part of the book. Also, we get to know more about the princes (including the evil one) and their complicated pasts with their actions and one another. I felt like Rosalina was adapting a little quickly, but then I remember that she's spent months in the fae world at this point and it seems less unrealistic. As fantasy romances are wont to do, the plot is a little thin and drawn out, but I really only have two major gripes. One, the problem introduced at the end of book one is resolved almost immediately, which was a little unsatisfying, but it did introduce some characters and plot points. Two, the 'big mystery' concerning specifically Rosalina and her family is so obvious. Like, I get that they are not aware of the tropes of the genre they're in, but come on. Surely someone can at least suspect it?

The Queen of Nothing by Holly Black (9/10)

There are 308 pages in this book. I highlighted something 228 times. I remember when I read this book the first time I was a little disappointed that there wasn't much of the intense scheming that came with The Wicked King, and I take that back. Maybe Jude's plans are a little more straightforward this time around, but even knowing what was going to happen there was still an insane amount of suspense. The relationships in this book are so strong, and not just romantically. Jude and Madoc's fraught parent-child relationship in particular has me riveted; it's incredibly complicated and so good. But also romantically, Jude and Cardan are at the top of their game this book, and it's amazing to see Cardan so unashamedly in love. They deserve their happy ending and to take off their armor, one piece at a time.

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mjsakurea · 1 year ago

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got sent this one today. of course you can ignore this, but i'm sending it anyway <33 - Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💖

Okay I'm gonna answer this over a month later lol, sorry! Thank you for the tag! <3

My own favorite 5 fics I've written, I've been thinking about it a lot! It's a tough decision cause I don't tend to reread my own fics after I've posted them. It was fun to think about it deeply though.

Bent Not Broken (fandom: The Untamed)

Summary: In honor of June being scoliosis awareness month 5 times Lan Wangji struggled with his scoliosis and one time he didn’t have to

This one because it was so meaningful to me to write something centered on scoliosis and scoliosis surgery and the after-effects. Everything I wrote about is stuff I've also experienced. It was extremely cathartic to write. But also the reactions to it blew me away, most comments were from people saying that they felt represented in their own scoliosis experiences. I could not have expected nor hoped for such an amazing response.

2. Good Name (fandom: Guardian)

Summary: “Shen Wei,” the letter starts. “Hi, it’s me Zhao Yunlan. If you’re reading this, we’ve switched again. And yeah, switched, I’m sure you’ve figured out by now that when you take over my body, I take over yours. Sorry for drinking alcohol. I didn’t realize you were such a lightweight.” Kimi no Na wa / Your Name AU - no knowledge of the source material is necessary to understand the plot of this story

This is the second longest fic I've ever written and also the only multi-chapter fic that I've fully completed *before* posting. It was a huge test of patience and it paid off! The first fic I got beta'ed also. Being able to post a chapter a week consistently and the satisfaction of it being already finished was great. Also I just personally love the AU and look back on it fondly.

3. The Heart of the Matter (fandom: Guardian)

Summary: Dixingren differ from Haixingren in one very crucial way: their heart is on the opposite side of the body. Zhao Yunlan never thought he'd be so thankful to find out Shen Wei is Dixingren in the worst possible circumstance.

This one because it proved to me that being completely self-indulgent pays off. In terms of kudos, comments, and bookmarks it is my most popular Guardian fic, but I'm not focusing on the statistics here it is just the fact that I thought it was too self-indulgent when I wrote it but then the reaction being so positive made me look at it in a different light and now when I think about an idea being self-indulgent I think back on this fic and tell myself nah I can be as self-indulgent as I want, and that self-indulgent fics are a good thing.

4. love them all for me (fandom: The Untamed)

Summary: He is barely a teenager when he is brought to Koi Tower where he meets a gentle young woman mourning the deaths of her husband and adoptive brother. She shares soup and stories of love and loss. Or Jiang Yanli sees a struggling young Mo Xuanyu and asks, “is no one else going to adopt him?” and does not wait for an answer.

This one because it was a pivotal fic in developing my writing style. This one was hugely experimental for me. I was very deliberate in how I wrote it stylistically. It was also the first fic I ever did in the present-tense. And then I realized I like present-tense better than past tense for my own writing haha.

5. A Fox Cannot Hide Its Tail (fandom: Guardian)

Summary: Li Qian speaks, “You won’t—it sounds—” “Crazy?” Zhao Yunlan cuts in. He smiles and says, “Try me.” It truly must be something strange if they can accept that he would believe them about the sentient shadow but not about this. “The shadow was chased away by a fox,” Li Qian admits softly like she doesn’t want him to hear her say it. “A fox?” Zhao Yunlan asks, eyebrows raised.

Full on recency-bias here lol but it's my current WIP so I want to include it. I am happy with where it's going. And it's the first complete canon-rewrite AU I've attempted! It is also self-indulgent as heck but I've already established that is A-okay!

Honorable mentions to the three fics I posted for the wishlist event just last week cause I love making gifts for people haha

#ask games #fic recs #my fic

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acertainmoshke · 2 years ago

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Top 10 Favorite Character Essences

Thanks @author-a-holmes for the tag! This is a cool idea, looking for not only what characters I love but which ones add literary value based on their role in the story.

1. Xena from Xena: Warrior Princess

Ok, so admittedly she’s at the top partly because I’ve had a crush on her since I was 15, but that is largely because she falls into my favorite character archetype: she has a dark past that won’t leave her alone and a dark side she’s never fully able to get rid of despite learning to fight for good and protect the innocent and even forgive herself. And yet, she is loved unconditionally anyway for who she is.

2. The Fool from the Farseer Trilogy and its sequel trilogies by Robin Hobb

He’s so mysterious, even he doesn’t know his full backstory. He’s a fascinating, contradictory character who doesn’t even have a real name, and yet he is a real friend when given a chance. He’s the type of person who can decorate a room in beautiful bright colors then never let anyone see it, who can be in love for years and never say anything, who would have a doll just to care for something. Yet his character, despite all its tragedy, doesn’t feel tragic because he doesn’t see himself that way. He’s wise enough to know that life goes on regardless of each person’s feelings or actions, but also that we will still feel and act.

3. Death of the Endless from Sandman (comics and show)

I love that she performs an expected role in an unexpected way. The Sandman universe is full of violence and danger and things out to get you, and somehow actual, literal Death is not one of those things. She’s kind and gentle, and has a real love for humanity and all the life that comes before her job. Her role is necessary and nothing to be afraid of. I also love how she’s reassuring to people But understandably a bit snarky to her brother because that’s just how siblings are.

4. Sister Boniface from Sister Boniface Mysteries

What’s not to love? She’s a nun. She’s a scientist. She solves mysteries. She makes inappropriate puns about death. She’s always upbeat and funny, even when it’s below the dignity of a nun, and often gets herself in trouble, but she’s also kind and determined and genuinely pious. She just wants to experiment in her lab and never accepts no from people who think she shouldn’t.

5. Sidra from A Closed and Common Orbit by Becky Chambers

Sidra was a ship’s AI, sentient but not legally a person. Her original name was Lovelace, Lovey for short, and she was in love with a human so they planned to put her in an illegal body that would let her pass for human and allow them to live together. However, an accident reset her and made her lose her memory and all her character development on the ship. Remaining was too painful for everyone, so she used the body and went to live with some of the crew’s friends.

The thing is, Sidra simultaneously knows a lot about humanity from her former programming and ability to space-google things, but doesn’t know anything about being a person, much less what she wants to do and who she wants to be. So she has to go on a journey of discovery starting from basically zero and learn both who she is and what values she cares about.

6. Caroline Gill from The Memory Keeper’s Daughter by Kim Edwards

This is actually one of my favorite books ever and I must have read it like 10 times by now. The premise is that in a snowstorm in the 60’s a doctor is forced to deliver his own twins with only a nurse to assist. When he discovers his daughter has Down syndrome, to spare his wife the pain of her dying young, he sends the nurse to take her to an asylum and tells his wife the baby died. The nurse, Caroline, can’t leave a child in such a horrible place and instead runs away to raise her. The story follows all of them over the next 20 years and how that one decision ripples through each of their lives.

I like Caroline specifically because she’s so ordinary. She’s just a regular person whose dreams have not come true, but thrown into an impossible situation she chooses compassion and becomes as strong as she needs to in order to be there for her adopted daughter (who does not die young), whether that’s fighting for accommodations or recognizing her agency as she grows up. That decision not only gives her a family, but leads her to finding love and friendship and a home she’d always longed for in a way she never would have imagined.

7. Root from Person of Interest

Based purely on her attributes on paper, she should be a flat and boring character but she’s actually the best thing about this show. She willingly gave up her free will to do the bidding of the omniscient AI she sees as a god. She doesn’t require any context or explanation before following The Machine’s orders, but also she (The Machine has a gender that only Root acknowledges) taught her morality, when it’s not ok to kill, and that she should act in the best interests of humanity rather than do whatever seems fun in the moment. That’s the other thing, though. She has fun listening to The Machine, fighting bad guys, and being part of the bigger picture. She enjoys it all too much for anyone else’s comfort, but it makes for a fascinating character.

8. King Ezran from The Dragon Prince

Ok I have so many Feelings about this show in general and all its characters, but I feel like Ezran as a ruler is revolutionary. His father was a good king who made sacrifices to protect his kingdom and people, even at the expense of others, and Ezran just refuses to do that. Despite being very young, he is perfectly aware of the stakes and responsibility involved in ruling, and always tries to take care of his people, but he refuses to do it by throwing others under the bus. He understands that even their enemies have suffered much as they have and he always, always chooses kindness, even when he or his kingdom is being actively threatened. He looks for why someone would do something bad when hurt and scared and wants to fix the underlying problem, even when the adults around him say violence is the only answer.

9. Lying Cat from the Saga comics by Brian Vaughan & Fiona Staples

Lying Cat has no business being in this story, amazing though it is. It’s a story of love and tragedy, but she’s funny. Her species’ deal is that they can tell when a person isn’t telling the truth and announce that by saying, “Lying.” She’s not only there for comic relief, though. She is loyal and fierce and has her own agency—though she spends most of it as the sidekick to a bounty hunter who adores her, she later chooses who she would rather be companions with. It’s a different, weird concept that actually really works and adds some lightness and a different kind of love to the story.

10. Antimony “Annie” Carver from Gunnerkrigg Court by Tom Siddell

Much like Ezran, she’s just so kind all the time, especially to those who need or deserve it, regardless of the politics of the adults around her. She loses a lot and faces a lot of tough choices as basically the only person who belongs to the technology of the court and the magic of the forest across the ravine, but she always asks someone how she can help even when they’re being cruel or scary or actively wanting to threaten her. All that said, she’s still very strong and can stand up to bullies and put them in their place as needed. She’s also not a flatly kind character and struggles with trauma and friendship and loss. And although she’s very loyal to people who show her kindness, she has no qualms about breaking rules that are cruel or just unnecessary.

I’m leaving this tag open—anyone who wants to feel free to make your own list like this!

#moshke writes #tag game

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keepingupwithtati · 2 years ago

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The theme I chose for this assignment is embracing your youth. I am a big believer in you only live once, so accomplish all that you can in this lifetime! A big part of that is one’s youth/teen years. I constantly hear older generations wishing they could turn back time into their younger days. The teenage years are the ideal time to start a journey of self-discovery. This adventure needs to be celebrated and embraced since it is during this journey that individuals discover the tremendous power they hold. Youth is a time of exploration, of discovering one's self and one's purpose. I attached a variety of songs that are different genres of music which carry the theme of youth!

https://youtu.be/AbPED9bisSc

youtube

The first song I chose, my personal favorite, is called, Live While We’re Young, by my all time favorite band, One Direction. It is a little bit different from the rest of the songs as this song is more of a modern pop song. It is upbeat and describes the typical lifestyle of a teenager. The narrator of the song encourages a female to sneak out of her house all night long and pretend that she and the other person are in love by saying, "Tonight let's get some and live while we're young." When you're young, you don’t often think twice, and if you're not careful, you can have to live with the repercussions for the rest of your life.

https://youtu.be/mwG6g5boyF4

youtube

The second song I choose is called, Forever Young, by Rod Stewart. This is a rock song from 1988 which expresses a sincere yearning for a loved one to have the best in life, from making the correct decisions to having the appropriate outlook and spiritual guidance. In spite of how old they are, it is hoped that they will always retain the beauty of a youthful heart.

https://youtu.be/b7k0a5hYnSI

youtube

The third song I choose is a very popular song called, Unwritten by an artist named Natasha Bedingfield. This is an uplifting pop song from 2004, and basically says that your life is yet unwritten, or a blank page. She wants you to look inside of yourself and discover who you want to be. Remember that you are the creator of your own life story and fully accept your roles in it. The tone of this song is very hopeful and tells you to love a life full of possibilities.

https://youtu.be/fMMNrth246k

youtube

The fourth song I chose is called Young Blood, by Bea Miller. This song has more of a dark melody as the way it sounds in the beginning is very gloomy like. The song asserts that although youth might disobey rules, challenge authority, and forge their own path, they must persevere through difficult times. Today's generation may create their own luck and find strength in one another as they rewrite tomorrow because they have the energy and determination of young blood coursing through their veins.

https://youtu.be/nPYRBsGMKOU

youtube

This next song is called Sixteen and was written by Thomas Rhett. It is a country song that was released back in 2017. The narrator remembers how impatient he was to mature as a teenager. When he was only beginning to drive at age 15, he couldn't wait to get his license. But after turning 16, he eagerly anticipated turning 18, which would grant him a Saturday night without supervision or a curfew. But once he turned 18, he wanted to be 21 to legally be able to drink. Now as a grown adult, he came to the conclusion that he spent most of his time focused on what was to come instead of living in the moment.

https://youtu.be/TZNIKZdoehE

youtube

Finally, the last song I chose is, You Make Me Feel So Young, by Frank Sinatra, who happens to be another all time favorite artist of mine. This song is a Jazz Classic released in 1956. He writes about how he is confident that this woman will keep him feeling young at heart even when they are old because they run, sing, and play games together like a pair of children. Jazz music gives off more of an optimistic feeling. The tempo is moderate so it keeps a happy vibe throughout the song in which I love very much.

#Youtube

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bonefall · 2 years ago

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hi!!!! thoughts on how you wish hawk/moth/tawny’s arcs went? always thought they were a billion times more interesting than their brother who is somehow still relevant and given all the screentime despite basically having his true arc wrapped up before he was ever given a pov

They were sacrificed on the altar of framing Brambleclaw's growth and ergo none of them got the satisfying conclusion they should have collectively had in TNP.

To talk about them, I first have to talk about what I think the Erins were doing with Brambleclaw

Brambleclaw

They decided that the arc that Brambleclaw went through in TNP did not actually end with closure. I don't necessarily think that's too bad of an idea; that watching his father get brutally murdered interrupted Bramblepaw's personal development, and made him possibly reconsider the idea that he was completely bad.

The choice in that moment, to reject Tigerstar or accept him, was taken from Bramblepaw when he saw him die. Now there's a new struggle, with BloodClan, and that FIRM rejection is off the table. In TNP, Brambleclaw is going to move on from Tigerstar in a way that TPB did not afford him.

That said... I think this was just a bad idea to begin with.

Because this is TAWNYPELT'S arc

SHE was the one who chose to side with him, who was seeing the real horrors of TigerClan, who saw her brother standing up for himself at that meeting, and watched Tigerstar die horribly. TAWNYPAW is the one who had to quickly move on and delay grappling with what she'd seen and supported; where Bramblepaw was in a clan WITH AN ENTIRE SUPPORT SYSTEM THAT AGREES TIGERSTAR IS BAD. His mom! Firestar! Longtail! Dustpelt!

Many people in ThunderClan were deceived by Tigerstar; but do not judge Brambleclaw for his parentage! God-- what about his cousins, even? The Snowfour are his FULL COUSINS on his mom's side!

TAWNYPELT is the one who should be struggling with fully rejecting his legacy, along with the ENTIRELY of ShadowClan, whose collective arc should be paralleling hers as they grapple with the fact they happily supported TWO dictators IN A ROW.

But I digress. I'll get to Tawny in a moment.

The bottom line is; in order to tell the story they wanted to tell with Brambleclaw, they did have to re-open his arc from TPB, and continue it in a new direction.

Tawnypelt

Was completely and utterly shafted by TNP. She barely does anything on the Sundrown Patrol, and only shows up to point things out about Brambleclaw. "Your actions affect the group, bro. Stop talking to our evil dad, bro. Hawkfrost is not trustworthy, bro"

If she's so wise, why aren't we following her as she confronts these things? It frustrates me that the writers keep her on hand as a tool to frame her mediocre manchild of a brother as he makes terrible choices, making her effortlessly competent while Bramble stays oblivious and ignorant to reality until his actions have violent, bloody consequences.

I can't stand how they just... keep a much wiser, more pro-active female character on-hand completely for the benefit of her brother's arc.

I wish they made her the leader of the Sun-Drown Patrol.

I wish she had more of a struggle with rejecting Tigerstar because she's so intelligent she's able to rationalize decisions she knows are bad.

I wish she actually had an arc in TNP instead of deciding Brambleclaw was going to TAKE hers because of author favoritism

Hawkfrost

I've written a lot about Hawkfrost, how I think TNP ends up implying that he inherited evil. The problem with Evil People being born occasionally and ruining a near-perfect society, their deaths allowing everything to Go Back To Normal

But I've also written a lot on how I think RiverClan should have had a better story about confronting how they welcomed TigerClan, how much I dislike A Shadow In RiverClan, and how Hawkfrost can fit into that... how he's such a good villain because he has EXCELLENT dialogue.

So I think my biggest issue with Hawkfrost is how he was executed. Hawkfrost should be failed by RiverClan, raised allowing to slip into the pawsteps of his father as a great man who did only a fewww terrible things, which shouldn't overshadow his good achievements.

Even, on some level... groomed by the cats around who see the similarities between him and his father, pushing him into the position to inherit this great legacy. To take up the torch where Tigerstar failed.

I wish that TNP had allowed for a greater tragedy in the ambitious young man resurrecting a deeply sick, evil ideology.

Becoming a symbol of it, even.

And in the end, being too far gone to save. Impaled by his own ambition.

Mothwing

Should have been the one to kill Hawkfrost, imo.

As TNP goes on, we see him becoming more and more demanding of her. He mistreats her even as early as the first book, calling her names, shoving her to the side. She's terrified of him. She's right to be.

I think when you're talking about fascism and fascists, you're missing the point if you ever downplay its hypocrisy. Hawkfrost and Mothwing come from the same situation, as outsiders raised by a non-clan mother. Hawkfrost has found a position where he could even play this to his advantage, "one of the good ones." But that same status for Mothwing is something Hawkfrost can exploit because she is gentle.

And he does. Getting her into the medcat den, wrapping her up in all of his schemes, holding the false sign over her head if she were ever to stand up against him.

She is a victim of him, and also of the dangerous sentiment he's raising in RiverClan. She fears him. She loves him. She hates him. She misses him-- the brother he once was.

I think it's a final trauma for her, to watch him impale himself on the stake she's holding. It should be self-defense, but more than that, Hawkfrost's own accident. Furious beyond reason, SO used to being able to bully her whenever, however he wants, he does not even notice that Mothwing can hurt him.

Blood spills blood, and the lake runs red. Mothwing doesn't like seeing the lake at sunset; it makes her taste something metallic.

Soooooooo TL;DR all four of them needed different arcs in TNP lmao.

#Warrior cats analysis #Tigerkin #Brambleclaw #Tawnypelt #Hawkfrost #Mothwing #Tigerstar #Tigerclawstar #This is really more analysis than anything rewrite-related #Though I did touch on a few of the things I'm committed to in my rewrite #TNP #Fascism #Brambleclaw frustrates me a lot because he's so large he kinda sucks up time other characters should have gotten #He isn't JUST a POV in TNP the whole thing is constructed around him #Like #The four of them are all relevant but TNP is not written to flesh out the struggles of each #TNP is written around Brambleclaw ergo his siblings are relevant #If that makes sense #There's a huge difference between those two things

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 3 years ago

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Tying You To Me — Part 2

Summary: Lonely hearts meet at a bar and one thing leads to another. Can broken hearts and burned bridges be mended while twisted up in bedsheets?

Content Warnings: MINORS DNI Casual drinking, mentions of hook-ups/one night stands, running themes of infidelity, sexual innuendo. SMUT: dom!Spencer sub!Reader (will be Switch for both eventually), Pet Names: Good Girl, Sweet Girl (don’t yell at me because I used that one 11 times, it’s my FAVORITE), Praise, Light humiliation/degradation (slut/whore), ingestion of cum, Oral Sex (female receiving), Penetrative Sex without a condom, Birth Control (Shots) mentioned

Word Count: 9,700 (it's my longest fic yet!!)

Author's Note: Well here's the next part!! Thank you to @reidslibrarybook for being the best beta I could ever ask for! And thank you to everyone who read the first part! This is where things start to speed up! As always, every comment & reblog makes me so happy! I hope you all enjoy this part, it was a lot of fun to write

Part I- Illicit Affairs | Series Masterlist | Part III - TBD |

PART II - Motion Sickness

“You are going to get hammered or laid. Or both. At least buzzed, Y/N,”

“Liz,” Y/N says, holding her temples in anticipation of a headache, “is a Divorce Party really necessary? I mean is it really a celebration that I wasted 10 years of my life on that douchebag?” she laments, flopping on the bed next to her sister.

“It’s been, what a year since you’ve known he was fucking your neighbor? And you’re finally done with him. Now it’s your turn, Y/N, your whole life, you’ve been perfect,” Liz eyeing a group of man playing darts in the corner of the bar, “You deserve to let loose and get with a hot guy who’s name you won’t remember in the morning,”

“Liz, I think you forget I’m a mother,” Y/N says, reminding her sister that she’s the only responsible parent her daughter has.

“So? That doesn’t mean you don’t deserve love, Y/N,” Liz consoles, smirking when Y/N rolls her eyes at her, “or at least treated very generously for one night by an attractive stranger,”

“One drink,” Y/N barters, fixing her work blazer as she settles on to the barstool, “And only because mom agreed to be with Aster. James is too busy trying to get his dick up to even think about a plan for childcare. I mean, does he actually expect me to do this by myself,”

“Y/N, I love you. But let’s forget about James and what he did to you. Please, just get drunk and forget about that asshole,” Liz orders, waving over the waitress, “We’re so getting pretzel bites,”

“You give excellent advice, Liz,” Y/N says, sarcastically as she looks over the drink menu. Her sister means well, but doesn’t fully understand the complexity of a husband being unfaithful. On top of an already rocky marriage, it’s hard to explain that she’s almost happy he finally fucked up so badly that a divorce was acceptable.

Now she’s the sad little wife that got cheated on, but before she was the nagging wife who complained that her husband never did the dishes. Now, the world can sympathize with her. But before she would’ve been the villain. She'll have to be whatever version of herself that's most palatable to the world.

“Y/N here will have something strong. Lots and lots of alcohol,” Liz says as she orders their drinks and snacks, “Oooh how about a Mojito, you always liked those in college,”

College, the days when James’ impish smile and young spirit charmed her into believing that what she needed in her life was a little youth.

“Whiskey Sour, actually,” Y/N smiles, thanking the waitress, “Tonight is not a night that I want to be reminded by my college mistakes,”

“Sorry,” Liz apologies, realizing the misstep and what her sister was referencing, “I should have realized-”

“Lizzy, it’s fine. You mean well. You all mean well. You, mom, even dad. But it’s hard when you can’t actually feel what I feel. He humiliated me. Made me feel like I was crazy and I hate who I’ve become when I was with him,” Y/N whispers, circling her finger around the rim of the water glass.

Liz nods her head, unsure what to say to comfort Y/N, as she munches on the ruffled chips the waitress dropped off.

“ ‘Would Fuck My Dickhead Ex’ Shots fix this situation?” Liz asks, an coy smile, not unlike James’ on her face, but it’s a smile that’s more comforting than aggravating when it comes from her sister, “Indulge me, Y/N,”

“Fine,” Y/N says, pretending to be annoyed and give into Liz’s wishes, even though she knew it’s hard to resist her younger sister’s shenanigans, “but only because it’s you,” Y/N adds, smiling as she picks at the bar chips.

“First round is on you,” Liz says, holding her hands up in faux innocence, “Hey, you’re the corporate lawyer, I’m the artsy one in the family,” she laughs, “And there might be some cute lonely hearts at the bar that you can practice flirting with,”

“I’m not practicing flirting with anyone,” Y/N says, noticing the way Liz emphasized practice, “But what do you want? Peach Tart?”

“Whatever you want, you’re paying,” Liz says, “And hurry back, our pretzels are back!” she announces as the waitress brings over their pretzel bites and drinks.

Y/N had never been to this bar before. It was new, built in the last 2 years or so, which was just around the time when she became a partner at the law firm. An accomplishment that seemed to not even elicit a congratulations out of James, despite him being very excited about the pay raise. The bar’s soft lighting hung way above their heads. The Edison light bulbs gave it a quieter feel than louder bars. In a way it was even more lonely than a louder bar, kind of like how large parties are more private.

The bartender takes care of a couple of college kids, getting them their beer before asking Y/N what she wants. Two men sit a couple feet away from her, talking quietly amongst themselves. And a familiar mop of messy brown hair and hunched shoulders sit two seats away from her.

Spencer Reid, the only soul who knows exactly how complicated her life is.

His shirt smells like expensive perfume. The kind that women wear when they want men to notice them. She doesn’t blame her for wearing it, it’s nice to be noticed. It’s nice to lock eyes across a crowded room and wait for everything to start to move in slow motion. You get motion sickness from it. The feeling of his eyes on you, only you. The rush, the adrenaline, the way you’ll cast your gaze down. Playful, bashful, sexy. You’ll be anything he wants you to be because he notices you.

She probably wore it just for him. Picked it out because he’d liked the scent of it on her skin as he kissed her neck, leaving her mark on a taken man. Was that part of the thrill? Like wild animals marking a tree, is this expensive perfume a sign?

Y/N wants to wash away the smell of it. The evidence of his infidelity on his clothes lingers even when the act has ended. All that remains is the smell of his treachery, the bonds broken and vows severed. She should be mad, scathing mad. She should be ready to burn bridges until they’re torched, just ashes.

But all she feels is humiliated. Her husband, the man that stood up in front of her promising love and loyalty to the very end, decided that those very same vows weren’t worth it anymore. Y/N throws the shirt on the floor. It burns in her hands, leaving invisible scars on her skin.

It’s all over her now. The smell of James’s infidelity. The humiliation of his mistakes. Y/N isn’t a cowering lily. She doesn’t back down from a fight. She won’t let James have the satisfaction of thinking he hurt her, even though he did.

Yet, when she sits down on their bed she feels like it can swallow her whole. She feels tiny in the sea of messy blankets and wrinkled sheets. The perfume scent, expensive and potent, stains her skin. It’s dizzying and that familiar motion sickness creeps up on her. Her throat goes tight, tears threaten to sting. She won’t let him have this power over her. She won’t let him have her spirit after destroying her heart.

“Spencer Reid, in a bar,” Y/N says, quickly glancing over towards her sister before bringing her attention back to her neighbor, “that’s something I never thought I’d see,”

“Well neither was your husband fucking my wife, yet here we are,” he says, taking a sip of his beer. He grips the bottle like a lifeline, like it’s the only thing keeping him on this barstool. There’s a loneliness in his shoulders that Y/N recognizes, but it’s something they’ve both carried long before their spouses’ infidelity.

“Touché, Dr. Reid,” Y/N muses, sitting next to Spencer at the bar, “And she’s not your wife anymore?”

“The neighbors talk,” he observes, neither confirming or deny the status of his marriage, “and for the record, Y/N, you’re not the bar type either,”

“Alcoholic, workolichic, both end marriages. And I guess in the end it doesn’t really matter which one you are, does it?” Y/N speculates, thanking the bartender for her shots. The warm yellow and orange color is cheery and happy, a contrast to their dull and dim conversation. She slides Liz’s shot over to Spencer, thinking to herself that he probably needs it as much as she does.

“To workolichics whose spouses never quite understood them,” she says, looking Spencer straight in the eyes as she raises the shot to her lips. He mirrors her, bringing the glass to his lips, eyes never leaving her face. They burn as he stares, looking so intently at her. It’s like she’s under a microscope.

Neither of them say a word, yet they communicate. They notice each other. And it takes one to know one when you haven’t been noticed in a while. He drinks the shot with her, making a face at the tartness of the drink. The sweet peach flavor evens it out, coating her tongue with sweetness that masks the sourness of the lime juice.

“Is that what you think happened? Is that why you think they did what they did?” Spencer asks, his voice but a whisper. His finger runs around the rim of the shot glass, tracing it over and over as his mind races, “because I’ve been thinking about it. I actually can’t stop thinking about it. I thought I was a good husband, I thought she loved me,” he adds, his voice raising up an octave.

“I’m sure you were, Spencer. I’m sure you were the kind of husband that never forgot birthdays and gave gifts for anniversaries. Or the kind that would do the dishes and make dinner just because,” Y/N says, thinking her sister was right to get drunk tonight, “But have you considered that Rebecca was a shitty wife?”

“No,” Spencer says, waving the bartender over for another beer perhaps, “I love my wife. I love my wife so much that I was blind to how she was. I ruined our marriage. I hurt her by not being there,” Spencer murmurs, “Another Sierra Nevada, please,” he tells the bartender, thanking her as she takes away their empties.

“You give her too much credit,” Y/N remarks, “You’ve been through so much, more than I know. I’ve been through so much, more than you know. But do you know who does? Rebecca and James. They knew exactly what they were doing. Fucking us up let this. Fucking up our lives to what get laid?” she scoffs.

“Like we’re not already fucked up, Mrs. Young,” Spencer teases, an uncharacteristically dark smirk coming to life on his life.

“It’s not Mrs. Young anymore. Dr. Reid,” Y/N comments, staring directly at Spencer, similar to how he looked at her moments before, “but I don’t even feel like Y/N Y/L/N anymore. I’ve been with James since before law school. It’s hard to be my old self again when I don’t even know who she is,”

His eyes are dark with something that Y/N can’t quite pinpoint, but it draws her in. His hair is tousled, maybe he’s coming home from a case and hasn’t had a chance to shower yet. He licks his lips, studying Y/N’s face. She doesn’t know much about his job, except that he’s some sort of detective for the FBI. Spencer reads people. Reading their microexpressions, their body language, their silent expressions that reveal so much. It must be what he’s doing right now.

“Like you said, it takes one to know one,” he toasts her non-existent drink as he sips his beer. He’s cryptic and guarded. A very different man than the friendly neighbor that she’d cross paths with at late hours, both coming home late from their demanding jobs.

But under that dark glimmer in his eye, Y/N, if she looks hard enough, can see that man. The man that would bring her trash to the curb because James always forgot or helped her shovel the snow off her sidewalk when James would refuse to do it. He’s still there, he’s still neighbor Spencer and somehow, she’s still neighbor Y/N.

Maybe it’s the shots, Spencer’s dark glimmer pulls her in closer. Like a fish caught on a line, she’s reeled in closer and closer.

“And I didn’t qualify for the friends and family discount,” Spencer whispers, his voice breaking the silence and bringing her back to Earth.

“Oh really,” Y/N says, mirroring Spencer’s playful tone as she leans in closer, his pink work shirt with the top buttons undone and sleeves rolled to his elbow, showing off his forearms. On his wrist is a tarnished watch, it’s so old that Y/N wonders if it’s more for sentimental value than everyday use, “I could swear that your wife sleeping with my husband would qualify you for at least 10% off,”

“Was that a joke?” Spencer deadpans, “From you, you’re even more serious than me,” Spencer muses, tapping his fingers rapidly on the counter. He still wears his wedding ring, even though the divorce has been finalized for weeks. Rings, like the vintage watches that don't work, are more sentimental than practical, despite not meaning that to Rebecca.

“There’s an awful lot you don’t know about me, Spencer,” she whispers, talking low in the quiet murmur of the bar. It’s well past 11, meaning the drunk college kids have left, probably searching for 24 hour diners to fill up on greasy cheese fries and sodas that help their inevitable hangovers.

It’s quiet in the bar, the regulars close their tabs and a few tables remain filled including Liz, who chats with a redheaded woman who sits alone at a high top table.

“You’ve always been one who’s hard to get to know,” Spencer observes, “I always thought you were lonely, like me. Never understood by James. Maybe that’s what it is, maybe they never got us,”

He’s not drunk enough to be having sober thoughts, but buzzed enough to be looser than he would anyway. Before Y/N can respond, Liz and a woman, following close behind her, rushes to Y/N and Spencer at the bar.

“Y/N, Y/N,” she says, “Ooo, so you are talking to a man, I knew a divorce party was what you needed-”

“I’m not talking to a man. This is just Spencer, he’s my...we’re uh. Spencer’s my neighbor,” Y/N stresses, hoping that her sister has enough clarity to realize what she’s implying.

“Divorce Party?” Spencer intjects, “Huh, Penny didn’t throw me one of those, and what I think Y/N is trying to say, without being impolite, is that woman James cheated with is, or rather, was my wife,”

“Oh,” Liz says, “So you’re Spencer,” she smiles, wearing her reactions on her sleeve, unlike Y/N, who hardly ever lets anyone in, “Well, uh, you good to drive? Gwen and I are going to go to her place,” Liz tells Y/N, giving her a sly look and looking directly at Spencer.

Liz has never been one for subtly, but at least Spencer is polite enough to ignore her antics.

“Be safe, Lizzy,” Y/N says, kissing her on the cheek, “And I’ll take your car to mom’s and you’ll have to Uber because I have to leave for work by 6,”

Waving away her sister’s constant worries, Liz turns, still holding the woman, Gwen’s hand as they walk out, “Love you and use protection!”

Feeling her face heat at Liz’s lack of filter, Y/N refuses to meet Spencer’s eyes. She doesn’t know him that well, but from what she does, he seems like a very reserved, quiet man. And reserved quiet men don’t particular care for sex jokes about the woman who’s husband slept with his wife. Even as complicated as their situation is, that would make it even more complicated.

“I am so sorry about my sister. She is, she’s just-” Y/N starts, looking for the right words to apologize for Liz.

“She has a point,”

“Excuse me,” Y/N says, her eyes going wide as his words process, “That’s highly inappropriate. That you would...that we would...-” she stammers, unable to even articulate what Spencer and Liz insinuated.

“That we would sleep together?” he asks, way too comfortable about this for a man that she assumed to be reserved and quiet. Maybe he’s hiding secrets under all those soft cardigans and kind eyes.

“Why not?” Spencer says, shrugging his shoulders. The dark glimmer in his eyes washes over his face again. It’s not threatening, but enticing and inviting, “We’re both single now, work terrible hours, and are ridiculously lonely. And what’s better than a little revenge,”

Revenge.

Sleeping with Spencer as one final screw you to James, and especially Rebecca. It's a slippery slope, but that glint in his eye latches on to her, pulling her in. He notices her. Spencer notices her because he recognizes himself in the shattered pieces of glass. He sees his own fractured heart in hers and for their last act to be revenge. It’s revenge against the person that hurt them with the other person that they hurt. For a moment, maybe they’d let go, pretend to recognize their old selves as jagged and broken as they are.

But she can’t

“You’re out of your mind, Dr. Reid,” Y/N says, taking her purse and tossing a couple five dollar bills on the counter for the bartender, “I’ll need to get you a cab, because there’s no one you can drive. You’re probably drunk out of your mind-”

“I’m not drunk, Y/N,” Spencer says, his voice steady and strong as he looks at her with that dark glint again, “And I’ve not been so sure of something in a very long time,”

“Spencer,” she starts, “You’re a kind man. And maybe if it wasn’t the way it is. Maybe if Rebecca wasn’t your wife. And fuck, maybe if we meet ten years ago, maybe things would be different. But I can’t. I can’t get involved in something with someone as broken as me. Not when Aster needs me,”

“Of course, Y/N,” Spencer says, slipping his cardigan over his shoulders. He nods good night, but Y/N stops him before he can leave. She squeezes his hand in some sort of abandoned spouses solidarity and kisses his cheek. Her lips brush over his days old stubble, and it tickles her skin. Letting go as quickly as she held him, their eyes meet again, only for Spencer to squeeze her hand back again.

“Good night, neighbor,”

“Good night, neighbor,” he says, slipping past her and out into the misty night.

She’s alone again, sitting at the bar. Maybe it’s a bar thing because all she can think of is the regrets she has. Marrying James in the first place. But at least that gave her Aster. Letting James take tiny pieces away from her with each fight, each snide comment, each critique until all the pieces were gone. She has a lot of regrets, a lot of maybes, a lot of what ifs.

Maybe Liz is right. Maybe Spencer’s right. Maybe he’s exactly what she needs. And she won’t deny that the dark glint and controlled smirk made her want to know more about her mysterious, quiet neighbor. For a man who’s so controlled and quiet on the outside, she can’t help but wonder what makes him tick. What he would be like when the mask of composure comes off and the Spencer she’s never known comes out of hiding.

She’s on her feet and out the door before she can even realize. The buzz of liquid courage no longer coursed through her veins, only the temptation of something a little scandalous, a little daring.

He’s getting into his car, an old Volvo that’s parked in front of her house many times before. He must see her standing out in the rain because he slams his door shut, jogging over to her in the parking lot.

“Are you okay?” he asks, “Do you need a ride home?”

“Yes,” she says, her heart thumping in her chest. She doesn’t do things like this, but neither does Spencer Reid. And here they stand in the drizzling rain, “I need a ride. But to your place. So you can fuck me in the bed that you once shared with your wife,”

“Are you sure?” Spencer says, taking a step forward, not touching her as he gazes down at her, reading her micro-expressions for even the slightest bit of hesitance, “I want you to be very sure, Y/N,” he whispers, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

“I’m sure, Spencer,” she says back, not backing down from his intense stare, “I’m not made of glass. So don’t treat me like it,”

“You’ll be eating your words, my dear,” he says, darkly, running his thumb over Y/N’s lips and across her jawline.

She’s not sure who leaned in first. And in the end, it doesn’t really matter. Spencer’s hand, large on her cheek, holds her steady. Just as his lips are ready to brush across her's in a heated kiss, he pulls away. Leaving her dizzy and desperate, a whimper of annoyance and frustration escapes her lips.

“I want you to be sure, Y/N,” he whispers, tracing her lips. Their almost kiss makes her head spin, making her wonder what kind of drunk she’ll be when he finally kisses her.

“I want you, Spencer,”

Nodding, Spencer drops his hand from her cheek. He gives her a small, almost shy, smile. Staring at each other, standing in the parking lot, neither of them are daring enough to make their way to the car. Spencer’s hand, the same one that warmed her cheek, makes its way to the small of her back, guiding her to his car. His steady hand and lingering tingle of the stubble on her cheek is tantalizing. And though James shattered her glass heart, something small, yet hopeful tells her it might be repaired again one day.

She didn’t even get a chance to kick off her shoes before Spencer practically rammed her up against the wall. Behind is lanky stature, he hides a lot of strength. His hands wrap tightly into Y/N’s hair as his shoulders pin her against the wall. The pictures rattle when he moves. His fingers and hands gripping her face tightly to control the kiss. Everything about the way his lips move against her mouth is calculated. Spencer knows exactly when to nip at her bottom lip, tugging and biting in a way that sends shivers down her back. Somehow, despite barely knowing each other, it’s like Spencer has her body memorized.

In an effort to get his cardigan off, Y/N pushes against Spencer. No longer pinned against the wall, she waits as he slips off his cardigan, his shirt even more wrinkled now. His gaze, in the dark hallway, burns her. The way Spencer looks at her lights her aflame. His eyes burn into her skin, making the spots he touched miss his fingers and long for bruises to remember him by.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Spencer whispers, drawing his finger up the side of Y/N’s jawline. His eyes study her face, moving rapidly, proving that his mind that’s constantly on overtime, “Tell me what you want, sweet girl,”

She can’t help it. The pathetic little whimper that slips out of lips, which only seems to entertain Spencer even more. He grins devilishly, his fingers still lingering on her face, just giving her the tiniest taste of what’s to come.

Leaning in so her breath is hot against his ear, Y/N whispers, “I’m thinking about how you’re going to fuck me like you should’ve been fucking your wife,”

His reaction, though immediate, is calculated like everything he does. Slowly, he leans back down, blocking Y/N’s view of everything, except for him. He brushes his lips against hers, talking in a gravely tone that makes Y/N want nothing more than to obey him for the rest of the night.

“You sure about that?” he says, mirroring his words in the parking lot just minutes before. He smiles as Y/N nods, giving him even more confirmation, “Go sit on my bed and wait for me,” he orders, his hand catching Y/N’s as she walks away.

Spencer stops her, pulling her body flush against his as he kisses her again. It’s impossible to not get lost in the way Spencer kisses. He knows exactly where to rest his hands with one on her waist and the other on her cheek. She vows to herself that if it’s only tonight it's okay to let herself get swept up in the way Spencer’s fingers tickle her skin or the way his lips pressed up against burn into her heart.

“You’re very distracting,” Y/N says, their lips brushing, neither wanting to go too long without having some physical contact.

“You’re the one that’s distracting,” Spencer says, smiling widely as his hands sneak up Y/N’s shirt.

Slipping away from his grasp, Y/N finds her way to his bedroom. The layout is simple and she navigates her way around the books and clothes clutter the floor of his bedroom, but his bed is neatly made with a soft looking duvet. Carefully, she sits on the bed, trying to talk herself out of the plethora of nerves that threaten to send her running back to her mom’s.

“Well looks like you can listen, after all,” Spencer says, shutting his bedroom door behind him as he walks towards Y/N on his bed.

Just like in the bar, Spencer’s intense gaze makes her feel like she’s under a microscope. Except, she doesn’t feel judged, but noticed. And after a long time of not being noticed, it’s more than nice to be seen.

He kneels down, his hands resting on either side of Y/N’s thighs. Her work skirt and blazer make her feel so out of place with Spencer’s tousled hair and wrinkled button up. His watch catches the moonlight that drips in through the cracked blinds. Spencer looks up at her, his lips dark and swollen, begging for her to kiss them again.

He slips in hands under Y/N’s skirt. They are cold against her warm skin, the contrast making her lean her head forward against Spencer’s forehead. He must like that because he continues to graze her thighs with his hands. His calloused fingertips linger on skin long after he’s moved on.

“You don’t get touched often,” Spencer observes, not a single drop of judgement or even pity in his voice, but understanding, “How? God, you’re so beautiful like this. All needy for me, and I’ve hardly even touched you,” he muses, removing his hands from inside her skin. She’s cold without him, already hating being deprived of his touch.

“Spencer,” Y/N whines, dizzy from him and wondering what his next move is, “Please,”

“Shh, be patient, Y/N. I’m going to take my time with you,”

His words from before ring in her head.

You don’t get touched often.

The way he said it, it’s like he knew exactly how it feels to be neglected. To be so starved for intimacy that the tamest kiss will leave you desperately needing more. A taste, when it’s been so long going unnoticed, isn’t enough to quench the thirst. She wonders how he’ll react when she gets her hands on him. Will he call her name out, begging for her touch? Will he whimper sweetly as he comes undone all because of her? Will he forget the pain he’s been through, even if it’s just for a night. Will their broken hearts be shoved into drawers for the night, not neglected, but noticed.

“Let’s get that blazer off, Y/N,” Spencer says, sliding the navy blue jacket down Y/N’s arms and tossing it towards the pile of clothes in the corner of the bedroom. Now rid of the blazer, Spencer’s cold hands travel up her arms, down to her waist before untucking her silk shirt from the waistband of her skirt.

His frigid hands are icy on her hot skin. Spencer’s hands move up to her bra, squeezing her breast lightly through her bra. He closes his eyes for a second, enjoying the feeling of his skin against his and the tiniest noises she makes as he continues to touch her.

“I’m on the shot,” she says, waiting on the bed for Spencer to do something, “And I’m clean,”

“Good,” he says, short and sweet. Unbuttoning her shirt, Y/N watches as Spencer moves with a quicker pace than before, his fingers fly down her shirt, unbuttoning before he helps her slip it off her shoulders.

“Come here,” Spencer orders, flicking her fingers forward in the wordless motion. She listens like a Marionette following the words of her puppeteer. He holds her chin, forcing her eyes to stay on him as she leans forward. He kisses her yet again, even more dizzying than the last. She can taste the faintest taste of peach and lime on his tongue, proving that this night is actually happening.

“So you can be a good girl,” Spencer observes, “here I thought you would be a little brat. But all you want is some to take care of you. Is that right, sweet girl?” he says, his voice laced with fake pity. One hand grips her wrist, holding her in place and the other remains on her chin, keeping her attention on him.

“Yes,” Y/N stutters out, her body growing hotter and hotter, the longer Spencer holds out on her, “please, just please,” she whines, no longer caring about keeping her composure. He unfastens her bra, watching as her bare breasts sit before him.

“Lean back, baby,” Spencer says, “and scoot up to the pillows,”

Following his directions, Y/N frantically slides up his bed. His soft duvet cover under her and his plush pillow under her head. Spencer slips off his shoes, still fully dressed compared to Y/N who remains only in her work skirt. Crawling up the bed, Spencer’s arms rest on either side of Y/N’s head. His lips dip down to her collarbone as he places wet, open mouth kisses all the way down her bare skin. Unlike his cold hands, his mouth is hot, drawing out moans of pleasure as he gets closer and closer to where she wants him most.

Fueled on by the promise of pleasure, Y/N grips onto his wild hair, hoping he’ll get the message to stay where he is. Leaning on his knees, Spencer slowly slides her skirt down her legs. Words of praise tumble from his lips as he peels back her skirt, leaving her only in her underwear.

“Spencer, please,” Y/N begs, feeling him spread open her legs when his hands grip her thighs. He draws shapeless shapes on the soft skin of her inner thighs, chuckling darkly as her breath hitches when he skims over her underwear.

“So responsive,” he coos, drawing with his finger along Y/N’s hip bone before looping her waistband around his finger, “you can be as loud as you want, sweet girl,” he whispers, leaning her head down to kiss her soft stomach. He peppers the lightest kisses along her belly, smirking proudly to himself at every whine and whimper.

“I need you, Spencer. Please, I need you,” she says, getting more and more desperate by the minute, “I need you,”

As much as it’s nice to be wanted, it’s even nicer to be needed. And from the familiar glint in Spencer’s eye, Y/N doesn’t doubt that Spencer needs her as much as she needs him. Her heart thumps in her chest, an unfamiliar pang of excitement and adrenaline brought on by another soul does something to her. Like it’s an instinct she picked up years ago, Y/N’s hands travel to Spencer’s hair, gripping tightly. He must like the sensation because as he kisses the inside of her thighs, he moans into her skin.

Kissing and nipping, he leaves marks for the morning, the only proof for tomorrow that tonight actually happened.

“Are you okay?” Spencer whispers, worried in his voice as his finger loosen their bruising grip on Y/N’s thighs. Her hands, still tight in his hair, loosen as well. Paralleling the way he gently stroked her cheek outside his bedroom door, Y/N’s index finger moves up and down his sharp jawline. His stubble tickles his fingers and his pink lips tempt her to touch them.

“I’m perfectly fine,”

“Good,” Spencer says, before drawing his finger along her inner thighs. His fingers ghost up towards her clit, rubbing small circles. He looks up at her, daring her to play a strange, adult staring contest. Spencer’s palm hovers over her pussy, encouraging her to rut against him as he smiles with delight. Despite being naked while Spencer is fully dressed, Y/N doesn’t mind.

“That’s it,” Spencer encourages, “But you look too good to not taste,” he mutters, lowering his head as his face grazes her sensitive clit. His large hands hover over her thighs, holding her in place as his tongue flickers, tasting her. Taking his time, Spencer nips and sucks, making his own sounds of pleasure as Y/N nears the edge herself.

“Oh, god,” she moans, gripping Spencer’s hair as another wave of pleasure crashes into her. She can feel it in her toes. The relief melts away the tension.

She’s not the sad single mother, she’s the overworked attorney, she’s not the neglected and ignored wife. She’s Y/N.

He’s not the lonely, mysterious neighbor who went to prison, he’s not the exhausted agent, he’s not the misunderstood husband. He’s Spencer.

They're broken hearts, fractured and jagged, seeking a ill-thought out, albeit, erotic rebellion against the people who promised to love and cherish them forever.

It’s twisted and sick that it takes another man to fuck her for Y/N remember her old self again. With the way Spencer’s groans of pleasure grow and his hardened dick rubs against her leg, it’s no hidden secret how this is going to end for both of them. It’s no secret that all people want is to be wanted, noticed, needed.

“Did your husband fuck you like this?” Spencer whispers, his voice cutting like shards in the room, otherwise quiet, except for whimpers and whines coming from Y/N.

No, he didn’t. He never wanted tasted her like this. He never tried to get her to come to the edge over and over. He never nipped and sucked and kissed her thighs before he ate her out like a starved man. He never wanted to, yet Spencer needs to.

“No,” Y/N says, honest to Spencer, because who can lie with a beautiful man in between her legs, “Never, he, ugh, Spencer,”

“God,” Spencer says, taking a break as he look her in the eyes, “I knew he was dumb, but that’s just fucking foolish,” he says before swirling her tongue over Y/N’s clit again and sucking softly. He searches for her hand, finding it in his hair. Holding her hand in his, he squeezes as her moans of pleasure grow more and more frequent.

“Are you going to come? Hmm, are you going to come all over my face like a good girl?” Spencer asks, the condescending tone fitting him surprisingly well, “good girls ask for permission, sweetheart,”

“P-please,” she whines, not caring how pathetic she sounds. She clutches onto Spencer’s hand, holding him like a liferaft, “Please, Spencer. Please let me come,”

“Come, Y/N. Come on my face, sweet girl. I know you can do it,” he says, humming encouragement. The vibrations spur her on, her legs shaking as she comes undone with Spencer’s mouth still working on her clit. His hands gather up her release, slick on his long fingers.

“What a good girl,” he muses, clicking his tongue, “You want to see how good you taste?” Spencer asks, bringing his slick finger to her lips.

Y/N takes his long middle and index fingers into her mouth. Swirling her tongue around it, tasting herself on him. Keeping eye contact with Spencer is hard, but especially when his fingers are buried in her mouth and his puffy lips still wear her release. A trail of spit ties her lips to his fingers as he removes his fingers.

Spencer’s eyes flicker up to Y/N’s. Her legs lay lazily on his and his hands hover hesitantly over her shoulders. Sitting with him in silence it’s awkward, but almost peaceful. They move in simultaneously, as if pulled by an invisible string. Eyes meet and then flicker away shyly, a touchless kiss shared even before lips meet. The distance grows shorter, spurred on by the promise of being wanted, of being noticed. It keeps that familiar motion sickness feeling away. In this quiet little bedroom far away from the mistakes of neglectful husbands and disloyal wives, steadiness and peace thrives.

“It’s not fair,” Y/N huffs, adding levity to the quiet, Spencer’s lips work down from her mouth to her shoulders and down her arms.

“What’s not fair, sweetheart,” he asks, still kissing her skin. Maybe it grounds him, maybe it reminds him that this is all real too. That there’s something after you lose everything.

“That you’re not naked,” Y/N says, bringing her fingers up to unbutton his shirt. Smiling, Spencer stands up from the bed, happy to rid himself from the confines of his clothes. His pink shirt and dark pants get tossed into the void, long forgotten with Y/N’s shirt and skirt, “You’re taking too long,” she says, pulling down his boxer briefs.

“Maybe you’re just impatient,” Spencer jokes, kicking his underwear down his legs and crawling back into bed. He attacks Y/N’s neck, kissing and nipping the sensitive skin. She giggles at the sensation of his stubble tickling her neck. The momentarily sweet gesture is only that, before can feel Spencer’s ever pressing erection against her leg.

“We don’t have to go any further, Y/N,-” he starts, but is cut off by Y/N planting a kiss to shut him up. For someone that really short circuited her brain by barely touching her, Spencer is awfully unsure that she wants this as much as he does.

“I want you to fuck me Spencer. Fuck me like you wanted to fuck you wife. You don’t have to hold back,” she says, licking her lips in anticipation as Spencer’s eyes darken with something that looks like jealousy. He leans back, resting in between Y/N’s legs, pumping his erection.

He looks down at her with so much intensity that Y/N can’t help but feel like the bed is going to swallow her whole. She’s wonderstruck, watching him hover above her. She anticipates his every move, wondering exactly what he’s going to do next. His hands cover her stomach, ghosting over her skin.

“More,”

“More what?” Spencer asks, playing the fool, when they both know he’s the master of all, “You need to use your words, sweetheart,” he mumbles, mouth latching onto her breast as he swirls his tongue around her nipple. Proud of her response to his ministrations, Spencer decides to give into her wants, which elicits more whimpers.

“So good, baby,” Y/N says, finding home in his messy hair again, “So good, Spencer. Please, fuck me now,” she begs, the whimpers of pleasure tumbling from her lips as Spencer cuts her off with another kiss. She wonders if he can taste herself in the kiss and if that makes him want her more.

“Are you sure, you’re ready for me, sweet girl,” Spencer whispers, his mouth brushing against Y/N’s neck, leaving trails of marks that will be puffy by the morning when their little escapade is nothing but faint memories in the back of their heads.

“So ready, so ready, Spencer,” Y/N chants, not beyond begging for Spencer to fuck her. He smiles to himself, secretly enjoying the feelings of being wanted by someone you want.

He kisses Y/N as he buries himself deep inside her, letting the sensation of his mouth and the stillness of his movements make her dizzy with anticipation. It feels so good with him deep inside her, not moving, just breathing in slowly and steadily, that Y/N swears to herself she can get drunk off the feeling. It’s sweeter than motion sickness, which only leaves you empty with dread. But this- this makes her feel full, complete…

“Shh,” Spencer coos, slowly moving as he begins to thrust in and out, taking his time. He kisses up the side of Y/N’s face, leaving opened mouth kisses on her cheeks, collarbones and shoulders. Spencer leaves no stone unturned, kisses every inch of her body as she clutches his back, “Let me take care of you, sweet girl,” he mutters, seeming to finally lose himself in the feeling of her wrapped around him.

“Spencer,” Y/N cries out, unsure what to say exactly. Words can’t quite describe the feeling of his body flush against hers, holding her steady as he moves in and out from the place where their bodies join as one. Words don’t do him justice.

“Please don’t hold back,” she says, wondering if she’ll regret the words in an hour or so when she makes the awkward walk back to the bar.

It’s like a coil snapping. The shift between the slow, languid thrusts and sweet kisses that Spencer leaves. His hands hover over his waist, ghosting along her soft skin and moving quickly to latch onto her nipple. He sits up, resting on his heels as he gazes down at Y/N, spread out before him, wanting- no - needing his next command.

“Did your husband make love to you? Hmm,” Spencer says, dragging his fingers down to Y/N’s clit as he begins to rub dizzying circles, “Did James fuck you sweetly?”

“Yes, yes, he uh,” Y/N stammers, her face flushed with humiliation as James’ name slips between Spencer’s lips. She doesn’t want to think about him right now, because thinking about him will only make her realizes that James could never compare to Spencer, “not like this,”

“No, not like this. I’m not going to make love to you, sweet girl. I’m going to fuck you,” Spencer says, his voice oozing with false pity. His fingers don’t let up, as Y/N squirms in place, trying her best to get off without Spencer permission.

“Don’t be a brat,” Spencer orders, “I don’t like when good girls pretend to be brats. Your husband must have been so pathetic. I’m hardly even touching you. And look at you. You’re a messy, messy little whore,” Spencer observes, his finger sliding up her and much to her excitement all she can do is let out mangled cries of his name and curse words.

“Aww is it too much? Is it too much for you, slut? I can stop right now. I can stop right now and call James up. Maybe he can finish the job?” Spencer asks, saying the forbidden name yet again.

“No,” Y/N says, finding her voice amongst the dizzying sensation of Spencer’s fingers and voice, “I want you,” she cries, “I need your cock inside me, Spencer. Please I need it,” she begs, humiliation growing in her belly as Spencer taps her cheek patronizingly.

“What a good girl. Looks like I don’t even have to fuck the brat out of you. You’re so eager you do that without being told,” he coos, leaning down to kiss her cheek and forehead.

It’s a mixture of sweet and sadistic that she knows she can get drunk off. His searing kisses and his wandering fingers force all her energy to focus on him. The way his tongue flicks across her bare chest, giving her just enough to be hungry for more. Sex must be an adult version of the teacup ride. You know you’re going to be all dizzy and woozy, but somehow it’s worth it all. Her skin tingles and she swears that Spencer’s touches are electric.

“Please fuck me, I need it, I need it so bad. So bad,” she pants, gripping Spencer’s forearms, pleading with him to take mercy on her. He listens, for once, kisses her forehead sweetly before thrusting in exponentially more quicker and faster than before.

She can feel him everywhere. His hands on her scorched skin and his thrusting in her sensitive sex. Spencer is calculated. He knows exactly how powerful to make the thrusts, he knows how to make her squeal and squirm with delight. His arms are on either side of Y/N’s head like a protective shield. She wonders if he’ll hold her sweetly after this, as if that wouldn’t make their relationship even more complex.

“Oh, god, Spencer,” she stammers, “More, more,” she pleads, knowing she’s signing her name to the devil if he’s going to fuck her like this.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m taking it easy on you tonight. You’re a lucky girl,” Spencer whispers, his sweet, albeit patronizing words conflicting the way his hips snap meeting Y/N’s in fast paced, unrelenting thrusts or his fingers on her clit or his mouth against her skin, “My lucky whore,”

“No one can fuck you like this,”

The words- and their very salacious meaning- ring in Y/N’s ear. And even though her cheeks and chest flush with embarrassment, she knows that Spencer makes a point. Sex with James was more of a chore. Something Y/N felt compelled to do because maybe it would make him want her more.

Wanting. Being wanted. Wanting someone that wants you back. It’s what got her here in the first place, with her legs stretched out and her recently divorced neighbor fucking the life out of her.

“Say it,” Spencer orders, though it comes out more of a strained beg, his thrusts, once calculated and precise, grow more sloppy and slower as he reaches his climax, “Tell me no one has fucked you like this. Say it, I know no one could fuck you like the slut you are, sweet girl,”

“No one,” Y/N starts, trying to concentrate on stringing the words together. It proves to be difficult when Spencer is hell-bent on making walking difficult the next morning, “No one’s fucked me like this. Not James. No one can fuck me like you do, Spencer,” she calls out, clawing towards him and latching on to his hair.

Layers of sweat and tears cover their skin, a dizzying cocktail of desperation and despair. For a moment in time they forget about the heartbreak. For a moment, they let themselves simply feel good, even for just one night.

“Never forget that, sweetheart. It will be like no one else has ever fucked you after me. They won’t measure up,”

They won’t. It couldn’t even if they tried.

She’ll hate the way his fingerprints are shadows on her skin. Tattoo kisses, once wet and fresh, but now long forgotten. She’ll crave his touch more than her husband’s. She’ll rewind the tape, pausing at the moments when she sees them unmarred with neglect, but golden with temporary joy. She doesn’t particularly like the idea of “ruined for other men” but, again, Spencer has a point. Y/N wonders if that neighborhood gossip of him being a genius is actually true.

“I’m going to come, Spencer, please,” Y/N cries out, coming undone for a second time tonight. She can feel her toes tingle in anticipation. The alcohol far gone from her system, but drunk off Spencer. He’s worth the regret flavored hangover that she might nurse tomorrow, “I need you,”

“You’re so cute, all messy like this. Messy little slut for me. I bet you want to come all over my cock, huh? Gonna let me fill you? Fuck you so hard that you’ll always feel me there,” he whispers, his hot breath foggy up her mind.

“Yes, please. Oh god yes,” she chants, his name on her tongue like a prayer. She’s a sinner and if he got even an ounce of saintliness in his pinky, she’ll worship him in the dead of night.

“Look me in the eyes as you come, sweetheart. Remember how I fucked you,” he dares, his lips latching onto her neck leaving marks, “just like that, sweet girl. Such a good girl for me,” he praises. His words stick to her like glue, daring to burrow deep inside her heart.

“So fucking cute when you come,” he muses, his thumb rubbing quick circles around her clit, simpering as Y/N bites her bottom lip as her climax approaches. Spencer, leaning down so his lips capture her bitten bottom lip. He tugs, smiling when she whines at the sharp pain of his teeth against her puffy lip.

She lays blissed out in his bed transfixed as the white milky substance leaks out from Spencer’s cock onto her stomach. His large hand hovers over her hip bone keeping her still as he reaches his release. Like a domino effect, as soon as Spencer meets his climax, her second one of the night hits her like a tidal wave.

“Come for me, sweet girl,” he commands, yet again conducting their salacious dance, even to the very end.

Y/N can feel the coils loosen deep her belly and tingle all the way down to her toes. Her head spins, drunk off the smell of Spencer’s spicy cologne and the sight of him relaxed as he kisses along her shoulders, whispers sweet nothings as she comes undone at his hands.

“Oh, fuck,” she says, cursing as she feels her muscles ease and the tension from her neck melt away, “Holy fuck. I didn’t think you had that in you,” she teases, pushing Spencer’s hair from his forehead. It sticks to his skin with his sweat. And in the moonlight, he looks younger and more carefree than he actually is.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asks, back to the reserved, cautious neighbor that always made her wonder, “You should use the bathroom, you know while it’s not medically proven, it’s highly recommended that you urinate after engaging in penetrative sexual intercourse to prevent UTIs,” he states, rattle off the factoid like he’s reading from a sex-ed handbook.

Sexual intercourse. Didn’t this man just say she was a good girl when she came when told? And he’s too bashful to say sex.

“Is that true?” Y/N asks, silently wondering how much longer she has until he inevitably wants her to leave. While there’s no hand book for fucking your ex-husband’s mistress’s ex-husband, cuddling and waking up to pancakes isn’t the expectation, “as much as I’d like to avoid that, I think I need you to help me up. My bones feel like they’re made of jelly,”

“Guess I did fuck you that good,” Spencer whispers darkly, sliding his arm under Y/N’s back to help her out of his bed, “it was good for you though?” he asks, worry in his big, sad eyes.

“Are you kidding me? Spencer, I’m not kidding when I tell you that I’m struggling to walk here. You were more than fine, you’re hiding an awful lot behind those cardigans and sweater vests,” Y/N teases, standing up and putting her hands on Spencer’s shoulders as his legs dangle from the bed.

His hands find home on her waist and his eyes silently thank her for the reassurance.

“You can stay,” he whispers, “I’ll help you clean up and we can go to sleep. For the first time in a really long time, I’m not dreading going to sleep. And I think that has something to do with me not being alone,” he reveals, quietly retreating into himself.

“Of course,” she tells him, trying to conceal that staying the night is exactly what she hoped for, “I’ll be right back,”

“Let me get you a towel first,” Spencer says, squeezing her hand as she sits back down on the bed. He comes back in with a warm damp towel that he drags up and down Y/N’s legs and across her stomach.

Silently, brazenly, he places kisses that make her skin goosebump and prickle. She licks her lips, watching him care for her. The dark glint in his eyes, the one she noticed in the bar and then when he hovered over her, is gone. It’s replaced by something sweeter and a little sadder. Eyes, they say, are windows into the soul. She speculates that Spencer must be a sad one to have eyes that shine like glass and are bittersweet like haunted dreams.

“I think you’re good,” Spencer whispers, his voice breaking the silence, “the bathroom’s to the left. And I’ll have some clothes for you to put on,” he says, standing up to help her out of bed.

“Thanks,”

As she uses the bathroom, she doesn’t let herself think about the strangeness of this. She always wondered about the shy neighbor who she would stand near during neighborhood get-togethers and events. And especially after he went away for a while and came back quieter and even more secluded. Now, she supposes that lonely hearts find each other.

Finding her way back to Spencer, she finds him sitting on his bed. His lamp is on, lighting up his room with a warm glow. He leans back on his bed, his glasses resting on his nose. He looks at peace like that, relaxed in his own space that he offered to share with her, even if it’s for just one night.

“Hey there, neighbor,” Spencer says, “As much as I enjoy the view, I think you’d be more comfortable in some pajamas,” he offers, holding out a pair of men’s boxers and a faded gray tee-shirt, “And I have lots of cardigans if you get chilly,”

“We’re technically no longer neighbors,” she says, putting on the tee shirt and boxers, “But thanks for the shirt,”

“I guess so,” Spencer observes, watching her from under his glasses, “You’re getting the house, I presume,” he says, “I don’t mean to pry, but I am the person to talk about this stuff, you know,”

“You, me and like 35% of marriages,” Y/N teases, amused by Spencer’s baffled expression, “What? You’re not the only one who can memorize statistics.”

Spencer spreads the covers over Y/N’s shoulders and leans over to turn off the lamp on his nightstand. He lays flat on his back, his eyes refusing to meet Y/N’s as she turns over on her side. Neither of them dare to move, even though it’s like there’s an invisible magnet pulling them closer and closer together.

“Good night, neighbor,” she whispers into the dark, feeling that dizzying feeling again when Spencer finally turns to face the same way she does. His face hovers above hers, his hands ghosts on her waist, not touching even though she wants him too. It would be nice to be held as she sleeps.

“Good night, Y/N,” Spencer answers back, closing the gap and pulling Y/N in close.

He holds her in his arms, flush against his chest. She can feel his thumping heart on her back. Trying to steady her heart rate, she tries to count her breaths.

One. Two. Three.

In and out.

Slow and steady.

Pretending this is real. Pretending that she’ll wake up and this will all be real. His warm body against hers is real. And the teacup ride will stop, the motion sickness will melt away, and all that remains is the dizzying sensation of being wanted by the one you want.

The last thing she remembers before she falls asleep is the smell of Spencer's sheets. They smell like sea breeze and salt air. His breathing is like the ocean calling out her across the short, yet vast, distance between them. They're castaways lost at l

She’s up before he wakes. Like he did last night, Spencer looks younger when he sleeps. His wrinkles from stress and worrying are less prominent, and a small smile is etched into his lips. Spencer’s arm is heavy against her upper torso. He’s warm and his shirt smells like clean cotton. Y/N wishes she can ignore her responsibilities and let herself melt into the sheets with Spencer’s arms wrapped around her waist.

But she can’t. She’s not his to want, he’s not hers to want either.

Slipping from the bed, she searches for her clothes that are scattered around the floor. Liz will know exactly what happened when she goes to her mom’s to get Aster wearing the same outfit she went out in. As much as she hates her sister being right, she doesn’t regret their night.

Before her fears get the best of her, Y/N scribbles her phone number on loose sticky-note on Spencer’s dresser. She’s not even sure if she wants him to call her. Or if this was a one time thing, and she’s nothing but a notch on his bedpost.

Turning the door, Y/N sneaks one look back at Spencer. His sleeping form threatens to call her back into the warm bed. Selfishly, she wants coffee-breath kisses and jokes shared while listening to morning news with the only man who can’t give her that. Painfully, she walks through the door, deepening the distance between them and ignoring the way her heart races at the sight of his curly brown hair messed up along his pillow case.

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ladyartemesia · 4 years ago

Text

The Kiss

◐ PART VIII of THE ALPHA ◐

◐ Series Masterlist ◐

◐ Part I ◐ Part II ◐ Part III ◐ Part IV ◐ Part V ◐ Part VI ◐ Part VII ◐

Pairing: Alpha Werewolf Jimin x Omega Reader

Rating: Hard Mature 18+ (for this installment)

Warnings: this one is a little darker, descriptions of violence, ABO sexual dynamics including discussion of scenting, marking, mating, and claiming, strong sexual innuendo, discussion of violence relating to ritual combat, possessive behavior, injuries and discussion of injuries, lots of people have, use and are threatened by knives, kidnapping and drugging, its not as bad as it sounds, but it is definitely a bit darker…

Word Count: 4250

Author’s Note: I said it before but it bears repeating...You have no idea what your support has meant to me. Truly your asks and your messages and comments…they made me so happy. You made me believe that people wouldn’t forget about this story. I am so grateful you were able to wait. As many of you know I faced a medical emergency recently and you were all so lovely. The best followers on this site and I MEAN that. As always, my angels @ppersonna @xjoonchildx and @untaemedqueen were (and continue to be) the best betas and the best friends anyone could ask for. My thanks to ALL of you for helping me bring this story to life! I don’t know what I would do without your daily encouragement and your daily support. You guys are the heartbeat of this story. It wouldn’t be here without you.

——◐——

Two Years Ago

——◐——

Centuries ago the moon goddess stumbled across her human soulmate while he was sleeping. Struck by his beauty, but reluctant to reveal her identity, the goddess began to visit him in his dreams where she could hide her true form and appear before him as a mortal woman.

In the world of dreams their love flourished and from that blessed union the packs were born…

The wolf nations celebrated this sacred romance every ten years during the Festival of the Lover’s Moon…

The day of the festival was spent eating and drinking and dancing at large parties, but when the sun went down… well—

That’s when things got really interesting.

On the night of Lover’s Moon the young unmated wolves of the pack were permitted to commemorate this legendary love story in a decidedly scandalous manner.

The unmated men assumed the role of the goddess’s sleeping lover—they were blindfolded (to represent slumber) and led into a large sectioned off area of the dark forest to ‘wait and dream.’

Unmated she-wolves over the age of maturity (eighteen) took herbal scent suppressors and ventured out into that very same forest in order to anonymously ‘visit’ the young men ‘in their dreams’...

The rules for what exactly that meant were pretty fast and loose which was why Min Yoongi was thanking the goddess and every other deity he could think of that Yunli was still seventeen.

“But I will be eighteen in two days! Please can’t I just—“

“No. Absolutely not under any circumstances ever.”

“But Yoonji is going!”

“Ji-ah is nearly nineteen and has never been interested in any of the snotty little man-pups of our pack.” He snorted. “She’s probably going out just so she can shove a bunch of them in the lake.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Yunli mumbled irritably.

Kim Taehyung yawned idly and snuggled into the cozy little pallet he prepared at the base of his favorite tree. The blindfold he and all the other unmated ‘lovers’ wore was made from witchcloth and could not be removed while the sun was down—so he had snuck into the forest earlier to set everything up.

Now all he had to do was wait until—

“H-Hi Taehyung.”

Oh sh—

“Uh. Hello...Miss.”

Taehyung didn’t recognize the owner of that voice, but he knew for sure who it wasn’t.

“I was hoping to find you tonight.”

This is not good.

“Well I’m—I’m flattered… naturally but—”

She touched his hand and he squeaked.

“I was thinking you and I might get to know each other a little bet—eep!”

The sharp point of a custom blade pressed directly into the unfortunate young beta girl’s pulse point.

“Are you lost, puppy?”

A heavy cloak obscured the newcomer’s features, but there was no mistaking her meaning.

Taehyung bit his lip to keep from snorting as the poor she-wolf scrambled away.

“Ji-ah,” he tsked with feigned disapproval, “that wasn’t very nice.”

Min Yoonji grinned as she sheathed her wicked looking dagger and slid languidly into his arms.

“You don’t like nice girls, Kim Taehyung.”

“I like you,” he whispered breathlessly against her lips. “Nice or not—it doesn't matter to me…” His hands slid greedily over her soft curves—pulling her closer till he felt the beat of her heart against his own. “I’ll like anything as long as it’s you.”

This was the stupidest idea in the history of stupid ideas.

Jimin huffed as he struggled to find a comfortable position against the giant boulder he’d chosen as his perch.

Why did I let Taehyung talk me into this?

He could be at home—in bed—comfortably sleeping off the all-day feast he’d indulged in.

Instead he was out in the middle of the forest sitting blindfolded on a rock in the off chance that one of the she-wolves was out looking for him.

Not bloody likely.

Not when prime targets like Namjoon, Hoseok, Jungkook—and countless others—were scattered throughout the woods.

“Park Jimin?”

Every hair on Jimin’s body stood on end.

It was a soft whisper—the speaker clearly didn’t want her voice to be recognized, yet something about the sound sent a curious frisson of interest down his spine.

He gulped.

“Yes… that’s me. But if you’re looking for Hoseok he’s just a little deeper in. You probably caught his scent downwind so—”

“I’m not looking for Hoseok.”

Jimin licked his lips and the sight of it sparked a odd curl of heat in the pit of your belly.

“I don’t know where anyone else is…”

“That’s quite alright.” A muted shuffle of movement reached his ears as you settled down beside him. “I was looking for you.”

“Oh…” He rubbed the back of his neck idly. “Are you sure?”

Laughter like fairy bells whispered through the air and Jimin felt his heart clench.

Don’t get your hopes up.

“Who are you?”

You were silent for a long time and then—

“I am someone who owes you a debt. One I have never been able to repay.”

Jimin’s head tilted curiously as he considered your words.

“I’m sorry, miss… you must be mistaken. There isn’t—“

“You don’t remember.”

It was a statement—not a question. Your voice was nearer now. He could feel the warmth of your body close to his—though not quite touching. “It was your wolf that saved me. But you had not gone through the Change yet.”

Familiar shame spiked sharply in his chest.

“I’m seven years past the Change...Why have you never mentioned this before?”

“Circumstances prevented me from doing so.”

There was a cold finality to your pronouncement—which of course did nothing but further inflame his curiosity.

“Then why come to me now?”

“I’ve come to repay you.”

Jimin’s mouth dropped open.

Were you trying to—?!

“Oh—no please that-that’s not necessary—I could never take advantage of—”

You giggled again.

“I am not offering my body, Park Jimin.”

Jimin breathed a heavy sigh of relief then shook his head with a wry chuckle.

“Well considering the circumstances I can hardly be blamed for assuming you might be. And honestly most men would jump at the chance to—”

“You...are not most men.”

Jimin’s eyes narrowed beneath his blindfold.

“Little she-wolf—I may not be wrestling bears for fun or bare knuckle boxing in the town square, but I am still an alpha.”

The weight of his command poured over your body as he spoke the last word. There was no order or intent—he had simply given you a taste of his power.

Aside from your direct blood relatives, no alpha had ever dared unleash their compel in your presence—therefore you were utterly unprepared for the effect it had on you—

Utterly unprepared for the strange surge of want so potent and profound that it stole the breath from your body.

It was primal—invigorating—

Sensual.

You and your wolf may not have been entirely connected yet, but she was suddenly quite vocal about her desire to fully bask in Park Jimin’s attention.

A wicked grin played over his lips as he leaned in closer and you could almost feel the soft brush of his lips against your cheek.

“Did you think I would not desire the touch of a beautiful woman in the moonlight?” he whispered.

Please touch me, Alpha.

Your eyes widened.

Dear goddess. Your inner wolf was turning out to be a shameless hussy.

“You might desire it, but you are far too honorable to accept it as payment for a debt.”

Jimin drew back warily.

You were correct of course. After all he had refused you when he believed that was your intent but—

“How could you know that?”

Evade. Evade now.

“Well... how could you know I was beautiful? You’re blindfolded.”

He shrugged and your wolf took careful note of the way it made all the pretty muscles in his back and shoulders ripple.

He will give us such strong—

Oh boy.

He will do no such thing. Please calm down.

“Not everything must be seen with your eyes.”

Is that how you found me? All those years ago...

Questions churned chaotically beneath your consciousness but you dared not give voice to them.

Focus.

“I must repay this debt. Ask for what you want and—if it is in my power—I swear it will be yours.”

Jimin smiled again, but this time it was somehow softer. For a moment he looked almost…

Sad.

“I’m afraid that the only thing I have ever wanted is not within your power to give...and I dare not ask you or anyone else for it.”

For her.

He sighed and drew even farther away from you—in fact it seemed like he was preparing to leave.

No.

Your hand reached out almost of it's its own accord and wrapped tightly around his wrist. The contact sent a shock of searing heat through his veins and he froze.

“Please alpha. It is not acceptable for someone like me—” a leader, a Luna, “—to owe another my life and offer nothing in return. You must let me pay my debt.”

Omega, his wolf growled, sweet perfect omega.

Suppressors may have hidden your scent, but the siren song of an omega pleading prettily in his ear was unmistakable—irresistible…

“What if all I want is your name?”

You sighed deeply.

“I cannot give you that. My name is… not mine to offer.”

Jimin laughed.

“A woman I cannot remember with a name I cannot know and whose face I cannot see.” He shook his head. “Perhaps you are just a figment of my imagination.”

It was hard to explain what happened next...For whatever reason his words cut you deeply and you were overcome with the desire—no need—to refute them somehow.

“I’m real enough,” you whispered, bringing his hand to your cheek.

Jimin was genuinely beginning to wonder if you were a witch as well as a she-wolf. Being close to you was intoxicating and the urge to draw you in was steadily overpowering every other thought.

“Could I ask you for a kiss, then?”

“You—...You saved my life and all you want... is a kiss?”

The air grew heavier as the strange magnetic pull between you swelled to a silent inescapable crescendo.

“In Seoul I often searched for someone who could ease my loneliness, yet each time I walked away emptier than before.” His thumb brushed gently over your lips and your eyes fluttered shut. “I have never had a kiss that meant anything to me.”

But yours might.

It was unclear who moved first, whether he pulled you to him or you surged forward but when your bodies aligned and your lips met his for the first time it was as if you had never been separate from one another.

As if you had always been deeply—intimately —together.

The indescribable feel of him lit over your senses like a struck match. It was an ignition in the purest sense of the word— a fiery visceral awakening fueled by a consuming flood of desire.

Yes, Alpha.

He might never see your face or hear your name, but Jimin knew he would remember the taste of you for the rest of his life. It was hot and bright like liquid sunshine— a pure relentless light flowing through him where there was once only darkness.

A soft needy moan rose up from your chest and he growled in primal satisfaction as you melted against him.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt of their own accord, desperately trying to bring him closer until he wrapped his arms around you in a heated embrace.

“Please,” he begged breathlessly against your mouth. “Please tell me who you are.”

The words crashed over you like a bucket of ice —dousing the hazy pleasure of his kiss with a cold bite of reality. Suddenly you were wrenching yourself away from him and your wolf whimpered in misery at the loss of his touch.

“I can’t,” you whispered.

And then you were gone.

“Did someone hurt you?”

You looked up to find Jin taking in your tears with cold fury.

Twin knives were already gleaming dangerously in his hands and he appeared ready to filet whichever bastard was foolish enough to make you cry.

“No,” you sniffed—well aware of how pitiful you were at the moment—crying in the corner of your cousin’s kitchen. “I got myself into this mess without any help—as usual.”

Jin sighed and slid down next to you.

“Tell me.”

“Something happened that I…I didn’t intend.”

“Oh I knew that already. The Luna isn’t supposed to be running around on the night of Lover’s Moon in a forest full of blind horny wolves—“

You snorted and shook your head.

“You’re absolutely right. I should have stayed away.”

Jin’s eyes narrowed and he wondered if perhaps you had caught Kim Namjoon with another omega. Nothing would be official until after the Change of course, but your bond with him was basically a foregone conclusion at this point.

“You went looking for someone...didn’t you.”

You nodded miserably—all but confirming his fears. He made a mental note to push Namjoon in the swamp at the next available opportunity.

“You know... the stories say that a Luna is powerfully drawn to her mate under the Lover’s Moon—that her wolf can sense him even before the Change.” He reached over and gently began to brush the tears from your eyes. “So it’s not surprising that you sought him out, but it’s not really fair to hold whatever it is you saw against him. There is no relationship between you yet and…” he chuckled, “kisses beneath festival moonlight don’t really mean anything anyways.”

It was clear that Jin had somehow gotten the entirely wrong impression, but perhaps that was for the best.

No one knew of your connection to Jimin and no one had seen what passed between you.

Still…

Something about his assessment stung you.

“You really believe that? ...That a kiss exchanged tonight means nothing?”

“I do.” Jin spoke with conviction. “There’s ancient magic at play in those woods. You can’t always trust what you see—or what you feel.”

“Oh I...I didn’t know…”

After a moment you laid your head against his shoulder and let the last of your tears run silently down your cheek.

“Jin-ah have you ever wanted something you knew you couldn’t have?”

“Yes.” He sighed heavily and pulled you in to snuggle a bit closer. “When I was younger I dreamed of having a mate just like everyone else…”

The words were so softly spoken—almost wistful. Your heart splintered just hearing them.

“But… she could be out there—your mate.”

Jin shook his head.

“When is the last time you heard of a female alpha?”

Fresh tears welled up in your eyes.

“Jin…”

“Hey,” he whispered, “don’t waste your crying on me. I’ve long since come to terms with who and what I am.”

“You’re not sad anymore?”

“Well… maybe sometimes I am… but I had to accept that people like us are not like everyone else. Our destinies were written long before we were born.”

“And you believe you’re destined to be alone?”

“Wolves in a pack are never really alone.”

“Yes...but they can be lonely,” you whispered thinking back to Jimin’s words.

For a moment Jin’s eyes were the saddest you had ever seen them.

“Well...I suppose they can.” Then he chuckled and gave your nose an affectionate little tap. “But you don’t need to worry about that. When the time comes Namjoon will take his place at your side and the two of you will build a wonderful life together... Isn’t that what you want?”

Isn’t it?

Your treacherous thoughts drifted back to the boy in the moonlight—to the way your body sang when he touched you and the strange insatiable desire to know him and be known by him in return.

“Please...Tell me who you are.”

A heavy ache settled in your heart.

You were the Luna of the mountain nations. A true born moon princess.

You could never be the woman who kissed Park Jimin underneath the stars.

You were not like everybody else.

“...Yes. That is what I want.”

——◐——

Now

——◐——

Jimin’s heart pounded as he tore through the dark paths of the wood with Taehyung, Yoongi, and Jungkook close behind.

He had never led an attack—had never been trained to command wolves in battle.

It was his first true test of leadership and he hadn’t even been a leader for twenty-four hours.

Yet the fears and anxieties that might have normally clouded his mind were notably absent.

There was only you.

Ironically Jimin owed Namjoon yet another debt—this time for explaining what exactly someone like him was capable of.

The alpha Jin captured had given up their plan and position after being exposed to Jimin’s unique gifting, so he had a concrete target in his mind… He suspected however, that your captors had taken precautions after leaving some of their men behind. They had shifted their camp.

But it wouldn’t be enough to save them.

Jimin didn’t need your location to find you.

He spent years refusing to look at you, and even then he always knew exactly where you were. He could sense you in any crowd—hear your voice in a thousand.

Once it had tormented him cruelly to be so aware of you.

Now it was the only thing keeping him sane.

He followed the connection between his heart and yours like a lifeline and it guided him as surely as the stars.

The alphas followed him without question.

If any of them harbored lingering doubts before, they were firmly laid to rest after what they saw at the cottage. No ordinary wolf could do what he had done.

The Alpha would bring back their Luna and retribution would be swift indeed.

The drugs in your system kept swinging you in and out of lucidity like a nightmarish pendulum. You tried to shift after the initial nausea faded, but whatever they gave you kept your wolf caged beneath your skin.

Jimin

The longing you felt for your mate was the only thing tethering you to reality. You could almost hear him echoing in the far corners of your mind—

I’m coming Omega—hold on.

I’ll find you.

Part of you recognized that his voice was likely nothing more than the wistful creation of your drug-addled mind, still you clung to it like the last shred of hope while the minutes (or hours) flew past.

Chaos clouded your thoughts even in clearer moments as many unavoidable concerns forced their way through the haze.

Jin was at the house with you when they broke in. You had no way of knowing if he survived.

The men who took you were crass and irreverent. Their eyes followed your form with too much interest and too little respect.

It was starting to get cold and (due to you nearly dismembering a high council member and needing to be compelled unconscious) you were still wearing a thin white ceremonial dress which offered very little protection from the elements.

You wondered idly if your idiot captors would let you freeze to death before they accomplished whatever it was they took you for. They clearly needed you for something or you would have been long dead by now.

None of them struck you as particularly brilliant planners so the mastermind must be somewhere else...

Frankly the entire situation was as puzzling as it was troubling. Iron Claw had always gotten along well with your pack.

Technically they were (almost) what the human governments called a vassal state. The presence of a Luna determined the dominant pack in a region and the Luna of the mountain nations had been born into Silver Fang—your pack—for the last thousand years or so.

Why would they challenge us now?

The birth of a Luna indicated that the goddess had chosen that pack to lead. Their willingness—not only to kidnap you—but to go against the dominant pack by doing so was alarming to say the least.

A sudden explosion of movement and sound interrupted your contemplation. Motion erupted all around you—boots pounding on the ground, men falling into their wolf forms, knives being drawn…

You lifted your head—straining forward to see the source of the commotion—and nearly collapsed in relief when you finally did.

Alpha

Your mate stood at the edge of the camp flanked by two enormous black wolves.

A deadly looking jingum sword gleamed dangerously in his right hand. You recognized it immediately as your great-grandfather’s combat blade—the thousand year-old weapon of the Silver Fang Alphas.

Relief flooded your chest all over again at the sight of it. Only Jin could have given him that sword—which meant he was still alive.

The black wolves—Yoongi and Jungkook—snarled viciously but made no move to attack.

Your captors were still scrambling into some sort of combat formation when Jimin finally spoke.

“You have violated our sacred laws, trespassed in sovereign pack lands, kidnapped a Luna under the protection of our goddess, abducted the mate of the Silver Fang Alpha, and risked open war between our peoples.” He took a single step forward. “Surrender now and I will be merciful.”

The biggest of your captors—a man you recognized as the de facto leader—spat viciously on the ground.

“You are not my Alpha,” he growled.

A cold—almost cruel—smile twisted over Jimin’s lips.

“Very well.”

Then he dropped to one knee and a massive grey wolf—Taehyung—leapt over his head and tore out the defiant leader’s throat before he even hit the ground.

Your mouth dropped open.

Bangtan formation.

Yoongi and Jungkook lunged forward in opposite directions, tackling their targets to the forest floor in a bloody clash of teeth and claws.

One of the larger Iron Claw alphas half-shifted and charged Jimin but his arm shot out lightning fast, catching his attacker by the throat to send him flying through the air into a tree.

The next several minutes could only be described as terrifyingly beautiful.

It was immediately clear that Jimin had been holding back when he fought Namjoon.

He dispatched his opponents with such elegant savagery it was almost art.

You were so mesmerized watching Jimin sensually sword dance his way through a dozen alphas nearly twice his size that you almost missed Taehyung’s wolf rushing over with a dagger clenched between his teeth.

Luna are you okay?

You grinned and held up your rope-bound wrists.

“I’ll be better once you pass me that knife.”

Taehyung nodded once and dropped the blade at your feet before tackling another wolf that was tearing towards the two of you.

You sawed through the ties around your ankle first then twisted your arms to try and slice through the restraints on your wrist.

The Iron Claw wolves were clearly no match for Jimin and his alphas.

Jungkook and Yoongi chased after the few who were trying to run while Taehyung half-shifted to subdue the handful of wolves left alive as prisoners. Only Jimin continued to fight as the last three of your captors still standing took turns being slammed into the dirt by his strikes.

He was clearly capable of dispatching them, but you were fairly convinced that you would die if you had to stay away from him for another second. The ropes, however, were surprisingly thick and the angle you were cutting them at wasn’t the best. If only—

You were almost free when you saw it.

One of your captors had pulled a hunting javelin from their supply wagon. He must have hid himself at the onset of the fight, but now he was comfortably concealed by the shadows—and taking aim at Jimin.

Your heart dropped into your stomach.

The attacker appeared to handle the weapon with familiarity. He was too far back—too well hidden—Jimin would never see him in time—

The last cord around your wrist snapped and you were on your feet, pushing through the combined haze of fury and sedatives to charge the wolf who dared attack your mate.

By the time he saw you it was far too late.

Under the effects of the drug your aim was a little skewed but you weren’t Kim Seokjin’s cousin for nothing.

One clean flick of your wrist and the dagger shot through the air, burying itself between the brute’s shoulder blades—all the way to the hilt.

His body fell to the ground just as Jimin sent the last of your captors careening into a pile of previously defeated foes.

For a moment all was quiet.

Then your eyes locked across the distance and everything around you sharpened to a single whispered word.

“Jimin.”

He had run non-stop for miles and torn apart a dozen wolves to get to your side—no amount of space between you now was tolerable.

The sword clattered to the forest floor as he moved toward you—desperate to feel you—to wrap himself around you and know that you were safe.

What happened next was as natural as breathing.

You opened to him and he lifted you into his arms, taking your lips in a hot unrepentant kiss.

Fire exploded across your senses, burning away everything but the touch and taste of him. Every part of you was at once fiercely and gloriously alive. Desperate moans passed between you as he licked into your mouth—a dark primal promise of the pleasure he would take between your thighs.

“Alpha,” you whimpered, too delirious with want to manage anything else.

Suddenly Jimin’s eyes shot open. His hands flew to cup your face, searching it with a mixture of realization and disbelief.

“You… It was you.”

If you are already on the taglist, then I will automatically tag you for the next part! If you would like to be added to the taglist, please let me know.

Please tell me what you thought of this update! I am really excited to hear your thoughts! Feedback really does fuel my writing and hearing from you means a lot to me! On days that its hard to write, I go back and I read your lovely words and it makes me want to keep going! I cannot overstate its value in my heart! Seriously this story keeps going because you guys have been so supportive and wonderful. You have no idea how much just a few word can brighten my world and fire up my muse.

2K notes · View notes

hauntedwitch04 · 3 years ago

Text

Lupus non timet canem latrantem

A wolf is not afraid of a barking dog

Nyx x Reader

Words: about 2.9k words

Warnings: Mention of sex, cursing, flirty Nyx and flirty reader, A LOT OF FLUFF

Author's note: Hi! I was thinking about a part too, right after the first part because I really loved writing it. Then @b7717 gave me an incredible idea and it came out quite good I hope. Thank you for appreciating my work, it really means a lot, hope you like it!

Request are open

Join the Taglist

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Amantium irae amoris integratio est (first part of the one shot if you are interested)

It's been a few months since that fateful night when Nyx and I accepted the bond that would bind our souls forever. It still doesn't seem real to me, and yet that beautiful, amazing guy I can call my mate. It took us a while to get to know each other fully, as we had spent most of our time these years hating each other. God I have never been so wrong in my life. During these months I discovered a funny, smart and kind fae that I had never paid attention to. We discovered we had many more interests in common than we thought. We both love fall and those rainy days that force you to stay home and read, with your favorite beverage and a good blanket, on the couch; we both love music and staying in bed watching the sunrise slowly rise from behind the mountain, in each other's arms.

I love him, and I feel stupid that I only now realized how wrong I was about him.

Through all of this, we have yet to tell our family about our new relationship though. Of course after our "discussion" we reassured our families that we were now "friends", however much Nes' expression hinted at his disappointment with his grandson for not being able to express how he felt. At least you can say we are a couple of good actors. We both agreed when we said that we would wait, and that we would enjoy some privacy, and that we would find the right time to tell him, but the more time passes, the fewer the occasions that seem appropriate for the news. Today Rhysand called us at the river house and said he had some good news to tell us.

"So what's the news? I have more to do." I say in a bored tone, sitting at the dining room table while all the other people are chatting with each other.

"What is it Y/N? Do you need to go see your boyfriend?" Nyx says in a joking tone as he winks at me. What an idiot. I instinctively bring my hand to the base of his neck, covered by a thick sweater, covering the hickey he left me the night before. I see him laughing under his breath at my gesture, while in response I give him the middle finger.

"Even if it was, it's none of your business asshole. Don't push your luck, the fact that we're friends wouldn't stop me from killing you and then burying you in the rose garden outside."

"I taught her well." Says Nesta with a proud expression on her face.

"I wouldn't be surprised if you have a boyfriend, it's been a few months now that every time you come to practice you've been wearing a scent of a male that's vaguely familiar." Nyx continues with a small smile looking at me amused.

"I thought we were supposed to get the news from Rhysand, not me. Now could you please stay out of my business and listen to what he has to say?" I ask exasperated as everyone stares at me curiously.

"Right. Pack your bags my dears, we've been invited to the Summer Court tomorrow for Taquin's son's birthday, we'll be there for two weeks for other more important matters as well, but at least you guys can enjoy some vacation time." Rhysand quickly explains, holding the High Lady's hand.

"And you called us in with an official meeting for this?" Cassian asks, bored by his friend's foibles.

"I'm sorry if I felt like seeing my family get together for a bit." Replies the High Lord.

"Rhys, I see you every fucking day, you clingy idiot!"

I find myself laughing at night between the covers thinking back to the argument between the two. I feel Nyx's arm rest on my waist and then bring me against his chest. The warmth he exudes immediately shocks me and makes me feel at home. He places his lips on my neck and asks me, pulling away slightly.

"Why are you laughing, my love?"

"I was thinking about the argument between your father and Cassian today."

He chuckles and goes back to kissing my neck, then stops again after a few minutes and says in a voice so low I feel like I imagined it.

"I think we should tell other people about us, you know? I think they have a right to know and it's not like they don't approve of our relationship."

"I know, but I like our privacy that we have now, and I also know that if we told them we would lose it in a second. You know how they are."

"Yeah, I do. Think of it this way though, just in case, we can always run away, buy a house in the middle of nowhere, and be just you and me forever."

"Alone with you forever...okay I love you, but I think I'd kill you after a couple of hours for how much you get on my nerves."

"Thanks doll, I love you too you know. I have to say though, if the last thing before I die had to be your face, then that would be the nicest way to leave this world."

"Since when did you get so sweet? "I say laughing as I snuggle more and more into his chest, and he lays his face in the crook of my neck, tightening his hand even more on my hip.

"It's all your fault honey, you made me a love-sick puppy for you. Now go to sleep, you have a busy day tomorrow and I don't want you to be too tired."

"Like you weren't the one who kept me up until one in the morning..."

"It's not my fault your body literally drives me crazy." He says sensually as he moves his hand from her waist to her thigh, then back to where he started.

"Now go to sleep, I'll be here in the morning admiring you with sunlight when you wake up."

"What an unromantic thing to say! You sound like a maniac!"

"Shhh, now go to sleep, it must be hard being so beautiful, you must be exhausted."

The next morning, once we are all ready, Rhysand transports us inside the Summer Court building. I am enraptured by the beauty of the place: the sound of the sea outside the windows relaxing me, the sun shining in the sky, the white sandy beaches in the distance. But it only takes a few seconds to remind me why the summer court is not my absolute favorite: the sultry heat, which takes your breath away and leaves you almost suffocating in that heavy air full of humidity.

We are greeted by Tarquin with a friendly smile, as I see behind him a younger boy with the same white hair and ocean-colored eyes.

"Welcome to my home, it is good to see you again after so long. May I introduce my son Titus." Says the High Lord of Summer.

"The birthday boy! It's a pleasure to meet you, and best wishes and most of all congratulations, it's not easy to get to be Varian's second in command from what I know." Rhysand replies.

"Yeah, I'm glad he trusted me, I hope I don't let him down.

After this brief introduction, the adults leave us to talk about far more important things as they leave me, Nyx and Titus alone. The prince decides to take us on a tour of the city, letting us discover all the secrets and wonders of where he lives.

During the whole visit Nyx seems to stay on the sidelines, while Titus proves to be kind and trustworthy, trying to make me feel at ease, in fact we spend the whole day laughing and joking, while my mate seems more and more angry.

The evening of the party arrives early. I'm wearing an outfit that I know Nyx really likes, specifically to provoke him a little after he's been ignoring me almost all day. I get to the room where the party is being held and man, it's one of the biggest and most beautiful rooms I've ever seen.

It's more of an open space than a room: there are no walls, but the boundary is marked by imposing marble columns, the ceiling is not there and leaves room for the beautiful starry night that is there tonight, in the middle of the dance floor you have a beautiful fountain with fish of all species and sizes. People are laughing around the buffet tables or in small groups at the side of the dance floor, watching amused as they dance. I catch a glimpse of Nyx near the drinks table, her expression lost in the void. He is wearing a black suit, but with the effects of the light produced by the lamps scattered around the room, which is always dotted with stars. The black shirt is slightly unbuttoned, revealing his toned chest. His hair is tousled, while his violet eyes roam the room disinterestedly. God everything about this man is too attractive not to kill me right here on the spot. I slowly approach him quickly, touching his shoulder in a way that makes me notice him.

"Hey, are you okay? You haven't seemed like yourself all day." I ask worriedly to the boy next to me. He turns to stare at me and I see the usual spark in his eyes again that made me fall in love with him. He rests a hand on my face and looks at me deeply, as if he's trying to imprint my image on his mind.

"I'm fine, don't worry." He replies with a charming smile.

"I'm fine now, after seeing you, and having you all to myself. You look amazing in this dress. But maybe you'd look even better without it" He says lowering his voice, making sure only I hear that.

"You're still the same."

"I thought you loved me for that?"

"I never said I didn't." He laughs so hard at my words that he turns some of the guests around and nearly soils my dress with the drink in his glass.

"Careful, the dress is new. And I got it just for you, ungrateful."

"Oh really?" He says with a smirk. Damn it must run in the family, I don't know how many times I've seen the High Lady melt in front of the same smile, made by her husband though, as I melt in front of hers.

"By the way you look really good in this dress. I didn't think you could be even more beautiful than I usually see you, but tonight you deserve a place among the stars for how gorgeous you look, believe me honey." He says seriously, moving a strand of hair behind my ear. However, our moment is interrupted by Tito, who is wearing the official uniform that has hints of the ocean, coming towards us with a beaming smile. I see Nyx's face immediately go dark as he straightens his back and almost poses, unleashing all the power he has. A chill runs down my spine. Only once have I seen him like this, and he was about to fight the most powerful enemy he'd ever encountered, but I don't understand why he's doing this now, there is no enemy.

"Wow Y/N, you look amazing! This dress is amazing!" Says the son of the High Lord of the Summer Court as he approaches us. The boy keeps talking, but I'm not focused enough to follow along. I keep getting lost in my thoughts and wonder what made Nyx's mood change so quickly. I am awakened from the whirlwind of my thoughts by the words of the Prince of Summer.

"Would you care to dance with me? A quick dance...after all, you can't say no to the birthday boy."

I feel my beloved's eyes suddenly on me as they watch me intently. But I can't say no, that would be an insult and an affront, so with a small, fake smile I nod and head out onto the dance floor with him. I'm left with nothing from that dance, just the hateful feeling that the hands that were resting on my hips were wrong, that they weren't right. Nyx's attentive gaze doesn't leave us for a second, and if before there was a spark that resembled a bright star six his eyes, now there is a burning fire that burns everything he meets with his gaze. When the dance ends I quickly walk away from the man in front of me, taking a bow, and then quickly run to where Nyx was before, but I can't find him, so I make for the exit of the hall, but as I enter the main hallway I feel a hand pull me towards a dark hallway off to the side.

"Finally that octopus left you..." Says an all too familiar voice as Nyx rubs his nose along my neck. And with those words it all seems to fall into place, and I smile amused at my mate's behavior.

"Are you jealous? The great Nyx, jealous?!"

"Lupus non timet canem latrantem."

"What does that mean?" I ask curiously, as I run a hand over his face, caressing his cheek.

" A wolf is not afraid of a barking dog." I laugh at the phrase, resting my head on his chest as he spins me around so that now my back is against the wall, and he's blocking me with the weight of his mighty body.

"You're even cuter when you're jealous you know. There's no need to be ashamed or hide it, it's normal to feel jealousy. You think I'm not jealous of all those women in the room who were devouring you with their eyes, who were eye-fucking my mate." I say sincerely, he stays silent and looks at me fixedly in the eyes in that darkness that hides us from the prying eyes of the people next to us, while the music of the festga is playing in the background. Then Nyx starts talking again.

"Okay, yes I'm jealous, how do you think I can't be, damn it! You're my mate, do you really think I wouldn't freak out if even another man who isn't part of our family talked to you, or worse touched you and danced with you, in a way that only I can. You're really naive doll, if you think I wouldn't cut off the tentacles of that octopus who's been hitting on you all day. God I've been trying to hold back all day, but I can't." He says as he runs his hands over every part of my body and then starts kissing my neck, marking his territory. Muffled moans lightly come out of my mouth as I hold his velvet-soft, dark-as-night hair between my fingers.

"You know I'm yours, and yours alone. That dance meant nothing. I'm here now, and I think I also need to stop as much as I like it when you're so jealous, kissing my neck and leaving marks, that we have to go back inside afterwards and you know, maybe people might notice hickeys all of a sudden on my neck after I come looking for you ."

"I don't care, I want everyone to know that you are mine, and mine alone, no one excluded."

Then he resumes kissing me, first my neck, then biting my earlobe, then my lips. The kiss is violent and passionate, but at the same time I can feel all the love he has for me in that kiss. Our hands roam our bodies, studying each other, loving each other, in that dark hallway.

We kiss for what seems like an eternity, until we hear someone cough. We reluctantly pull away and turn to where that sound is coming from.

"And here I thought Nesta was wrong for once."

"Az is not what he seems." I try to start explaining, but am quickly interrupted by the laughter of the man in front of us.

"I'd say it's exactly what it sounds like: you're in a dark hallway alone, you're kissing, or rather eating each other's faces, after she danced with another guy, and because of that you had a jealous attack, and because of that you left purple marks, hardly noticeable I dare say, on her neck...I think I described the situation well. How long have you known you were mates?"

"Three months." Nyx answers confidently.

Az shakes his head laughing as he walks away from us a little.

"There's no way Nesta got it right again." He then gestures one last time towards us and says, "Move along, and off you go, enjoy your evening. This party is dead, I will make up an excuse for you, but you must promise me that you will tell the others, at least right after we are back home." We both nod quickly, then Nyx takes me by the hand and together we start running out of the building along this hot summer night, the stars witnessing our love. We fall asleep on the sand after spending the night hugging each other watching the starry sky, lulled by the gentle sound of the waves.

Taglist

@winchestersgirl222

#nyx x reader #imagine acotar #rhys acotar #acotar x reader #hauntedwitch04's writing

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booksandabeer · 2 years ago

Note

fic rec anon here, so I was specifically asking for recs because I'm on vacation rn and could use some long-ish reading material. I do like the pre-war flavor, but I'm not really picky about the plot or era overall, as long as it's written well, the characterization fits, and the dialogue flows easy

Ok, long fics to read during a vacation, you say? So nothing too heavy I think—although I personally am all for ANGST in my fave fics and I guess a lot of people would still consider some of these quite angsty? I tried my best!

Without further ado, I offer you a Stucky recs potpourri of five wildly different stories:

North Fork by @beaarthurpendragon | 62K, Explicit

Author’s summary: Sworn to silence by the Air Force after a friendly fire accident in Afghanistan, former aid workers James and Sam have come home to take over Sam’s family’s vacation rental business to escape the bad memories. Losing an arm and working maintenance wasn’t how James pictured his life turning out, but his life is good: He likes fixing things, he gets to work for his best friend, and he loves surfing every morning.

Fresh out of the ice, all Steve wants is for SHIELD to announce his return and let him get back to work so he won't have time to think about all he's lost. But when his psychiatrist refuses to clear him for duty until he's dealt with his trauma, he reluctantly accepts Tony's offer of a beach house for the summer to settle his mind. Armed with a false identity and a stack of sketchbooks, his only goal is to get back into the field. He's got no intention of letting his heart defrost along with the rest of his body.

That is, until a handsome maintenance man with a secret of his own shows up with a gallon of ice cream and a smile that could light up half of New York.

One of the best Shrunkyclunks fics I’ve read. Both, Steve AND Bucky are complex, fully fleshed-out characters in this, and — even more importantly—equal partners (something which I feel can sometimes be a bit of a problem with Shrunkyclunks). Bea is one of my favorite authors writing for this ship, so I’d also recommend any other story of hers. I picked this one for the ‘beach house for the summer’ premise, but it is really so much more than that. Features beautiful art by @lisamott9

These City Walls by @tessabennet | 88K, Teen

Author’s summary: Before there was Captain America, before there was even a war, there were two idiots in Brooklyn, just getting by every day, living a life, trying very hard not to let it show that they had, as a matter of fact, fallen in love with each other.

This is the first part of what I plan to be a multi-part fic spanning the entirety of the MCU, following Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes on their journey with, away from, separate from, and back towards each other.

A beautiful, in-depth look into Steve and Bucky and their lives in Brooklyn before the war. Be aware though that they don’t actually get together in this installment of the series (the goal of this series is to stay as canon-compliant as possible all the way through, with an eventual divergence post-FATWS to give these boys their much-deserved happy ending). However, if you’re into Pre-war Pining™, this will definitely hit the spot for you. And then some.

A Hard Rain's a-Gonna Fall by @disraeligearsgoestumblin | 60K, Explicit

Author’s summary: He got off the boat in New York on May 13th, 1945, five days after V-E Day...

A story of loss, grief, war, and a love that survives them all.

An AU set between 1945-1979, where Steve doesn’t go into the ice, but Bucky still becomes the Winter Soldier. This is the darkest/angstiest fic on this list, but it is so, so good and you will be rewarded with the most satisfying ending, I promise. God, just thinking about it, I want to reread this right now.

Space Oddity by @spacerenegades (crinklefries) | 147K, Mature

Author’s summary: After the world ends, things happen to Bucky in this specific order: he helps defeat Thanos, he rejects Steve’s attempt to address Feelings, he watches Steve volunteer to put the Infinity Stones back in time, he waits for Steve to come back, he is sad when Steve does not come back, he realizes that everyone thinks Steve disappeared in 2012 (???), he gets taken to space by Carol Danvers (!!!), he meets up with a depressed literal alien Norse God, he and the depressed literal alien Norse God travel through space, he and the depressed literal alien Norse God hit a wormhole and fall into the--Multiverse.

What the fuck.

This is the story of how Bucky and Thor pick up the pieces of their lives, find their own worth, find their own person, and find their way out of a multiverse of 100 realities stitched together with 100 tropes. There’s love, there’s friendship, there’s an extreme amount of Tesseract fuckery, but most importantly there are sexy vampires. Bon Appetit.

A love letter to Stucky and to fanfiction as a whole. It’s hilarious, heartbreaking, and just incredibly entertaining. The perfect binge-read for a vacation, I think. Also comes with beautiful art by cyclamental and @nalonzooo.

the world on fire by burlesquecomposer | 51K (WIP), Mature

Author’s summary: Steve loves old vinyl records, doodles on his files, and cannot remember a time that he didn't serve the TVA. And that suits him just fine—that is, until stray variant Bucky Barnes, fresh out of HYDRA's grasp, drops into his time theater and makes Steve question everything he believes in.

Yes, this is a WIP (a regularly updated one!), but PLEASE do not let this stop you from reading this gem of a story. It is well written, has a super fun premise, clever plotting, wonderful characterizations, and a firm grasp on the SteveBucky dynamic. It is brilliant and I think it deserves a lot more love and attention.

This was fun--let’s do it again some time!

#stucky fanfic recs #stevebucky fanfic recs #stucky fanfiction recs #stevebucky fanfiction recs #fanfic recs #stucky fic recs #stucky #stevebucky #my recs

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tamuramachi · 3 years ago

Text

[Eng] Special Conversation between Yumi Tamura & Masaki Suda on Mystery to Iunakare

Published in the February 2022 issue of Flowers manga magazine (月刊flowers) released on Dec. 27, 2021.

In commemoration of the [Mystery to Iunakare] TV drama adaptation, we held a special conversation between the original author, Yumi Tamura, and the lead actor, Masaki Suda. The conversation ranged from each of their thoughts on “Totonou Kunou” to discussing the highlights of the TV drama, their interactions before the filming, and their favorite manga works! Their conversation reveals at length the appeal of Mystery to Iunakara (abbreviated as Mystery).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Notes:

Spoiler Alert: The conversation touches on contents in volumes 4 and 5 of the manga, some of which I believe starts being revealed on episode 5 of the TV drama (airing Feb. 7, 2022). Though no major plot spoilers are revealed (probably not fully understandable without context anyway), character names, certain events that occur, themes, and suggestions of mood/tone of certain parts are conveyed. If you want to remain completely “in the dark” about volumes 4 and 5 (episode 5 and onward in the drama) until you actually experience them, then do not proceed. If you don’t mind knowing some things without context, then feel free to read on. However, in either case, you may still want to skip over Caption 4 (see Note # 5), as I think it may kind of spoil a surprise later on leading up to volume 9 if you haven't read up to that point.

The terms “original work” and “manga” are used interchangeably in this fan translated version when referencing Mystery to Iunakare manga.

Stating the obvious that this is a fan (amateur) translation for the purposes of practice and spreading awareness of Yumi Tamura and her work. Copyright belongs to Yumi Tamura and Shogakukan. I do not claim accuracy on these translations, and in fact, may revise them from time to time. Corrections are welcomed.

If you’re able, please give support and let the publisher (and manga author) know that you enjoy this manga, this kind of special content, and would like more in the future by purchasing the original publication. Digital version is available to purchase on Book Walker Japan (https://bookwalker.jp/de41a49e7d-4bfd-4a82-a1d4-1536484849b2/). If the link doesn’t work, try copying & pasting “月刊flowers 2022年2月号” in the search bar, even on other sites where you can purchase similar Japanese publications (that accept your country’s currency). Note that you will need to register an account on Book Walker, either a Japan or Global account, to make purchases on the site.

I purposely excluded the images from this interview but included the image captions, except the bios for Tamura and Suda. They are labeled with caption numbers and appear as small, green italic text throughout. So, if you would like the full experience, not to mention a peak at other great works included in the magazine, do purchase the original. 😊

/end Notes

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TV Drama Adaptation Confirmed…

------First of all, Ms. Tamura, can you please share what your honest feelings were when you received the announcement about the drama adaption?

Yumi Tamura (Tamura): I was so surprised, I wondered if it was even real. I thought to myself, “Mr. Masaki Suda!? It can’t be… Really?” But when I tried to imagine it, he was so perfectly suited for the role. In the first story, Totonou’s character is a little different [from now] because I originally intended the story to be a one-shot, but from the second story onwards his emotions gradually emerge, and parts of him that are a bit cute and careless begin to show. So, when I imagined Mr. Suda in those various forms of Totonou, I just thought, “Wow, so wonderful, he’s perfect for it!”

Masaki Suda (Suda): No, no, you flatter me.

Tamura: When I first received the proposal for the drama from Fuji TV, I was deeply moved by how much importance they placed on the original work. Due to the nature of live-action dramas, some parts will of course be different from the original, but I felt that they created the character of Totonou with great care. Moreover, with Mr. Suda playing the role, there was a sense of assurance like Totonou would be properly represented over there. This is the first time I’ve received a TV drama adaptation, and I am, with all of my heart, so grateful for this wonderful project.

Suda: I, too, am thankful to hear you say that.

Tamura: Actually, when this work was first published, a manga artist and an editor I knew told me that they would like to have Mr. Suda as Totonou if this was ever to be made into a live-action drama.

Suda: Was this before talks of the drama?

Tamura: That’s correct. It was during the very early stages. At the time, I couldn’t even imagine that something like a drama was possible. But after we actually talked, I was able to easily visualize Mr. Suda’s Totonou in my mind. But his Totonou is ridiculously cool! (laughs)

------Mr. Suda, what were your thoughts when the offer came?

Suda: This was during my so-called period of continuous manga live-action adaptations… which I’m really grateful for, but my manager and I talked at that time about whether I should hold off on manga-based works and go after more original works [written specifically for the screen]. But then a few days after that conversation, my manager came to me and said, “So, there’s this project that’s based off a good manga…” (laughs). As I was thinking to myself, “Here it comes,” I replied to him, “Well, I’ll at least read it for now, but didn’t you just say I should stop doing this stuff?” Then I started reading the manga, which was Mystery… and then I was all for it like, “Let’s do it!” (laughs). I pretty much made the decision on the spot after reading the first story.

Everyone: (Laughs)

Suda: I already knew about Mystery to begin with, because there were talks of it among the manga fan community. So, I’m sure I would’ve read it eventually even without the TV drama news… When I actually read the manga, I felt that I absolutely had to do this project.

[Caption 1] From the first story, which instantly captivated Mr. Suda. Totonou’s words are “piercing” and even become hot topics on social media.

Tamura: Thank you. It makes me very happy that you thought so. I’m honored.

“Reverse” Data Collecting before Filming

------It seems that Mr. Suda had a talk with Ms. Tamura before the shooting started, is that right?

Suda: That’s right. The opportunity for us to do it appeared, so I asked on my side for a meeting with Ms. Tamura. After all, wouldn’t anyone be curious to know what kind of person is Ms. Yumi Tamura, the one creating this kind of work? I wondered if there’s really any way one could draw this kind of work just from imagination. Without a great deal of life experiences and various perspectives, one probably wouldn’t be able to draw up something like this. So, I wanted to know what was going on inside Ms. Tamura’s mind.

Tamura: No, no, it’s not like that…

Suda: I’m naturally the type of person who wants to meet and talk with the author of the original story when I get to perform it. I can see what the author values from these conversations, and I like to hear directly from them about their intentions. When I read Mystery in particular, I could feel something immensely that resembled a “wish” [someone’s wish]. It’s not like I’m trying to say what’s right or wrong in this world, but somehow, I could totally agree with the future that Totonou hoped for beyond what was happening in the world he was living in. That's why I wanted to meet and talk with Ms. Tamura more.

------What did you two talk about?

Suda: Let’s see, what did we talk about?

Tamura: I feel like I got so nervous that I couldn’t really talk.

Suda: Wait, wait, wait, but you actually talked a lot! You were talking so much, Ms. Tamura! (laughs)

Tamura: (Laughs) Did that happen? Well, I got anxious and rambled on then... We talked for about an hour, didn’t we?

Suda: Probably around there. It was so much fun. I’m glad to know that there are people like Ms. Tamura, who question and turn over many different things in their mind. I’ve always believed that everyone should think more about the “why” behind all kinds of things. It doesn’t only have to be about the offensive stuff. Contemplating over things by itself is interesting, isn’t it? For example, I wondered why the nice hotels only have toilets with lots of buttons.

Everyone: (laughs)

Suda: I don’t know which button is for closing the lid, flushing, or activating the bidet (laughs). I think we’ve become too smart for our own good [e.g., advanced in our technology,] that the opposite happens and we inadvertently become simple-minded. Even that kind of conversation is fun to have. And the more we talk it through, the more we can see the process that led to the thought behind something. I had many conversations like that with Ms. Tamura. And they were really interesting because I got to hear a lot about Tamura’s writing method directly from her mouth, like she’d say, “I did it this way because I was wondering why such and such is the way it is….” What impressed me in particular was the way that she was kind of saying, “With Mystery, unlike my previous works, I’m just throwing things out there that I’ve been thinking about, that’s it.” And that switched on my light bulb. “That is Totonou,” was my exact thought. That’s why I’m glad I got to meet Ms. Tamura, or else I wouldn’t have been able to bring Totonou to real life.

------It was an interesting and very precious time to prepare for the role then.

Suda: Yes, it was. But thankfully, I’ve been able meet her a lot since filming started because Ms. Tamura has often come on set.

Tamura: I really wanted to see the filming (laughs).

------Does it make you nervous to have the original author on set?

Suda: Of course I’m nervous, but I’m also grateful. It’s like there’s nothing more reassuring [about an adaptation than having the original author’s support]. The general public tends to perceive it as the live-action versus the original work, but I think that’s such a shame.

Tamura: I agree.

Suda: Isn’t the original and the live-action about the same work? Of course, it goes without saying that the original takes precedence, but I want to bring the distance between the the two closer in any way possible. So, if the author can come on set and speak with us directly, then that would be the fastest way to close the gap.

Tamura: I'm really touched that you thought of facing this work in that way. I could feel that sentiment in all your scenes. As the author, it made me really happy. But, before I started visiting the set, despite being excited and hopeful, I still had worries about how Totonou would turn out…

Suda: Well, no doubt about that. I was worried too. I’m still worried.

Everyone: (laughs)

Tamura: Each person holds a considerably different impression of Totonou as a character. It’s going to change depending probably on each person’s own problems, worries, and position in everyday life. That’s why I didn’t know what kind of character Totonou would become if an actor were to play him in real life. I wondered what it would look like if his lines were actually spoken in real life.

------How was it when you actually saw Mr. Suda’s performance on set?

Tamura: I thought, “Ah, so that’s what Totonou would be like if he were real.”

Suda: I’m so relieved to hear you say that!

Tamura: It wasn’t like I had a correct version in mind [for real-life Totonou], or that I doubted Mr. Suda. So, the feeling [of when I saw Mr. Suda as Totonou] was like: “This is it, the correct answer!” Then I was honestly able to think, “Oh yeah, that’s what Totonou would be like in real life.”

Suda: Glad to hear that.

Tamura: The first time I saw him perform was the episode when Totonou is hospitalized, and when I saw Mr. Suda dressed as Totonou speaking quietly, calmy, and steadily, I thought: “I see, Totonou is like this,” and from then I could only see Mr. Suda as Totonou (laughs). So, I was delighted. And I kept thinking “yes, that's it.” Even the director said that only Mr. Suda could play this role.

Dynamic Performances by a Star-Studded Cast

------When you visited the filming site, what did you find impressive?

Tamura: I only saw a portion of the scene, so I don’t know how it turned out in the end, but the interaction between Totonou and Leica was awfully cute!

Suda: Yes, Leica!

Tamura: I got to see so much of Totonou’s adorable side! What’s with that atmosphere [between the two of you]?

Suda: Personally, I have worked with Mugi (Mugi Kadowaki), who plays Leica, several times and she’s someone I have the utmost faith in. No matter the situation, we’re always there for each other. That’s why I was able to push my acting with confidence while having a lot of fun. Also, the beauty of Leica that Mugi creates… it’s kind of like she’s standing right there as an illusion.

Tamura: An illusion… yes, even in the manga, readers often wondered if Leica was there only because Totonou imagined he was seeing her even though she may not be real. So, “illusion” certainly fits Leica. Ms. Kadowaki’s graceful and unwavering presence was truly enchanting…! Speaking of enchanting, Furomitsu is also amazing. The exchange between Ms. Sairi Ito, who plays Furomitsu, and Mr. Suda that I got to see overwhelmed with power. In the drama, they made [Furomitsu’s character] a woman who is trying her best to live with courage in the face of her adverse surroundings. I had many opportunities to meet Ms. Ito, and she was cute, strong, and spirited; I came to like her very much. Other famous people have also appeared and played opposite Mr. Suda (Totonou). I can’t reveal their names yet, but they were all amazing… It was like watching them go at it in a one-on-one battle.

Suda: In any case, it’s an extremely star-studded cast. It’s like a different drama every episode because each one is basically about one scenario and the cast continues to change except for me.

Tamura: I’m excited to see how it will turn out.

Suda: I think one of the reasons why we’ve attracted such an all-star cast is because the roles are just that fascinating. As with Totonou, the characters that come out of each and every episode [of the original work] are interesting and intriguing to any actor. Maybe it’s because the original work was written in a theatrical style to begin with, but many of the actors who appear in the TV drama are actually theater inclined. So, I think it would be really interesting to see if this work is adapted for the stage someday.

Favorite Episode Arc from the Original Work

------Mr. Suda, what is your favorite episode arc from the original work?

Suda: I guess it has to be the Kaeru [frog] one (in volume 5 of the manga). The story was interesting and a heavy one, among other things. How do I put it… it’s just the most poignant. In terms of entertainment, I really liked the Hiroshima episode. There was slapstick comedy, action, mystery solving, etc. Still, Roku’s story struck a chord with me the most. Did you have some kind of literary motif in mind when you wrote it? This was the first story where the theme of “child abuse” was put forth in a big way, right?

Tamura: It’s not like I had a motif in mind, but it’s something that I’ve been thinking about for a long time. In Japan, it’s not easy to separate children from their abusive parents as quickly as in the West, so that must mean there’s still many more children who are suffering. However, in reality, I think it’s less likely that an abused child would truly want to be apart from their parents.

Suda: Yes, that seems to be the case.

Tamura: So I remember drawing that while doubting myself over whether a child would actually choose to summon an angel, who promises to kill [the child’s parents] for them.

Suda: It seems to be a story on what it would be like if one were in that position and told such a thing. I felt the reality in that part of the story when I read it. As Ms. Tamura said earlier, it’s really cruel to make a child choose, and Ms. Tamura’s determination to illustrate this kind of situation is incredible.

Tamura: The experience will become a painful one for the child later on.

Suda: I really got that kind of feeling from the manga. Because before lighting the fire, that child, who I couldn’t tell whether was a girl or boy, was standing there looking like a bean sprout without a single trace of life on their face. That scene was really grim.

[Caption 2] What is the sad secret hidden in the arson incident? The episode of the fiery angel that made Mr. Suda say, “It’s the most poignant.” (From Volume 5 of the manga)

Tamura: It really is a difficult subject. But I figured that incorporating such themes might be possible if they were in the form of an encounter with Totonou.

Suda: So it doesn’t sound patronizing and such.

Tamura: Yes, that’s right. The same is true with the issue of bullying; trying to draw a proper picture of the issue itself may very well be difficult. However, I think there are some issues that can be portrayed with the involvement of someone like Totonou. However, I’m trying to be careful, as I don’t think Totonou could stand something horrible like seeing people get killed one after another right in front of his eyes. Thus, I wanted to focus the story around figuring things out to prevent that from happening as much as possible.

Suda: Good point!

Tamura: On the other hand, I don’t care what occurs in Garo’s part of the story. I’m creating his part with the thought that a different genre is okay.

Suda: Garo’s lines in that one part are so interesting when he said, “I have no intention of interfering in other people’s crimes.”

Tamura: I’m hoping that there will be a time when Totonou and Garo can work together again.

Suda: I’m with you on that. But in Mystery, there’s fascination in seeing the three different perspectives—Totonou’s, Garo’s, and Leica’s.

Tamura: I’m glad to hear that. However, creating a story is challenging, and I struggle with it each time. Mr. Suda must have had a hard time as well playing the role, so I hoped there were some fun parts for you.

Suda: No, no, it was fun. It was fun but definitely challenging. I had to go to the hospital in the middle of the day because I had so many mouth ulcers that I couldn’t talk. That was the first time ever, you know, that I had to stop filming on set because of mouth ulcers (laughs).

Tamura: Really?! It’s tough having mouth ulcers in a role that requires so much talking…!

[Caption 3] Garo Inudo, who has a mysterious connection with Totonou. He is one of the few individuals that Totonou would like to be friends with. (From Volume 9 of the manga)

Suda: It sure is. I’ve played a fair number of characters who have talked a lot, but those times were actually when the characters were in quite a heated state. Roles where there’s a lot of talking often call for energetic style of speaking after all, so playing someone like Totonou had its challenges. In the manga, Totonou talks without using much emotion, right? That’s what’s so fascinating and what I love about him, but I think that kind of expression only has an effect on the audience precisely because it’s in a manga. In a TV drama, if the character is actually played by a real person and there’s no emotion, then the character loses their humanity and becomes just a “character.” Of course, it’s important to perform the character of Totonou well and emulate his expressions, but more than that, I wanted to convey to the audience what’s happening in the story that Ms. Tamura created and what Totonou is seeing. So, I consciously played the role keeping emotions in check but letting them show every now and then.

Tamura: I’m really happy you thought about it to that extent. Thank you so much.

Suda: Oh, but I thought it was such a discovery. It was an eye-opening experience to learn two kinds of conversations between people: those that employ emotions and those that do not.

Tamura: That’s so true. It would be nice if we could have more discussions, or on-the-spot conversations without rejecting or attacking each other’s character. I wonder if we can start that kind of training from childhood…

Suda: Right. Love isn’t all about venting out our emotions.

Next Goal is…?

------Please share with us your hope for the future of the manga.

Tamura: I’ve gained a love for the detectives while observing the filming, so I’m kind of thinking to continue Aoto’s story, and next time Furomitsu’s. And of course, Ikemoto’s.

Suda: I bought the manga as a gift and gave it to friends and to children of friends a few times, so...

Tamura: Really? Thank you very much!

Suda: I contributed to the sales (laughs).

------The manga has surpassed 13 million copies…

Suda: It’s gone that far? So awesome! But really, my friend’s kid, to whom I gifted the manga, has asked if Furomitsu can come back already. Sounds like they’re looking forward to Furomitsu’s parts.

[Caption 4] Aoto, whose daughter was kidnapped. It may be related to the wrongful conviction case from 8 years ago… (from volume 9 of the manga)

Tamura: I’ll do it for sure (laughs). The fact that the work I drew, which I thought was going to be a one-shot of just one volume, has grown this big is thanks to everyone’s support, and that makes me so happy. Also, more than anything, I think Totonou himself is happy to have Mr. Suda play his role.

Suda: I’m soooo happy to hear you say that!

Tamura: I’m really grateful to you as well. There may be some fans of the original work who are worried about the adaptation, but I’m sure they will enjoy watching [the TV drama], and for those who are fans of Mr. Suda and don’t know the original work, I’m sure they will come to love it too. I haven’t seen the final edited version yet either, so I’m looking forward to the day it airs…

Suda: I saw the first episode. I feel relieved. It was good!

Tamura: Okay, then I can’t wait for it!

Suda: I know the show hasn’t even started and I’m already saying this, but I want to play Totonou again. I haven’t actually done a series before, so I’m hoping this could become my first one. Well, I wonder if I can do it, I’m cutting it close as I approach 40 years old.

Everyone: (Laughs)

<END>

Yumi Tamura ✕ Masaki Suda: Bonus Manga Chat between the Two Manga Lovers

Suda: What was the first manga you ever read in your life?

Tamura: The first real manga I read… was Moretsu Ataro by Fujio Akatsuka. When I was in kindergarten, I had a minor surgery and was hospitalized for a week, and at that time my father bought me a shonen [boy’s] manga magazine. I don’t remember what else happened, and I don’t know if it was the only one I liked or what, but I was able to endure the pain of my stitches being removed while reading Moretsu Ataro (laughs).

Suda: So it was enough to make the pain go away? (Laughs) I’ll read it.

Tamura: After that, when I was in the third grade of elementary school, I came across shojo [girl’s] manga and started drawing them myself. The series of works by Moto Hagio are wonderful… In particular, The Heart of Thomas grasped a deep part of my heart. Then when I was in high school, I encountered the Hamidashikko series by Jun Mihara, which is like the bible to me… The power of the words in that work is unbelievable, and I don’t know how many times I cried from them… they pierce the heart a lot. Even now they come back to me in various instances.

Suda: That has my interest now. Thank you for sharing that!

Tamura: Do you like manga as well, Mr. Suda?

Suda: Manga was my only recreation. Whenever I went on location to film, I would buy manga for the number of days I’d stay or frequent manga cafes during in between times. I was thinking that Mystery could be good teaching material in schools. It would be great if everyone reads it together in moral education classes or something. I would do that if I was a teacher. As my mentor, my sixth-grade homeroom teacher really loved manga, and I had wanted to become a teacher too because of him. He left manga in our classroom and called them his bible, and that’s when I came to love manga. Our classroom bookshelf had manga works like Parasyte and Ushio and Tora, and now that I think about it, that environment probably influenced my attraction to works with strong themes.

Tamura: Excellent choice of works, teacher!

Suda: Excellent, right? I think it would be great if Mystery was mixed in with that bookshelf. Or rather, it should be!

#yumi tamura #tamura yumi #masaki suda #mystery to iunakare #do not say mystery #dont call it mystery #flowers magazine #totonou kunou #j drama #Fujio Akatsuka #Moretsu Ataro #Moto Hagio #The Heart of Thomas #Jun Mihara #Hamidashikko #Parasyte #Ushio and Tora

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