#I think the only one that has been spared so far is the rule of three

[mariana-oconnor]

The thing I find most amusing about that AO3 summaries post I made - apart from the fact that apparently by attempting to do observational comedy, I somehow managed to create a writing guide - is the way every few days I get someone reblogging it saying 'I absolutely will not read X, don't do it, it's terrible,' and so far X has been pretty much every single item on the list.

The lesson we must learn is that everything is hated by someone. There is no perfect summary, literally anything you write is going to put someone off. Is that liberating or does it make things worse?

[hyperfixatinator]

Where is the line?

In the comics, Tim Drake's moral code is an enigma to me, particularly his stance on the Batclan's no-kill rule. For all the fans who say he's always one step away from full blown villainy, there are even more saying he's a strict goody two-shoes who could never stoop that low.

Then there's the different takes on where Tim draws the line between these two extremes. Personally, I find that line hard to pinpoint. Digging for canon demonstrations of his morals has lead me to more questions than answers. My biggest question right now is:

What counts as breaking the no-kill rule in Tim's eyes?

Luckily, the Robins 2021 comics shed some light on this. In issue #3, "Tim", or rather an imposter of him, said that choosing not to save someone isn't the same as killing them, and that letting a villain die can be a way to get justice. Normally, this point would be moot since it's not Tim himself who said it. However, at the end of issue #6, the real Tim clarified that what the imposter said WAS his real opinion on the matter.

Not only that, but Tim has shown this belief through his thoughts and actions before. Twice.

The first time goes all the way back to Robin 1991 #5. During the fight against King Snake, Tim kicked him through a nearby window, fifty stories above the ground. As King Snake's life hung in the balance, Shiva appeared and commanded Tim to kill him.

Tim refused. He walked away, leaving King Snake entirely at Shiva's mercy.

What gets me is that Tim made no move to save King Snake from falling. And he made no effort to stop Shiva from committing the murder, either. His only thought as he heard the man's scream was "Fifty stories is a long way to fall."

The second time was in Red Robin 2009 #26. Tim orchestrated a whole plan to manipulate Captain Boomerang into getting killed by Mr. Freeze. The whole time, Tim blamed Captain Boomerang for making all those bad choices, despite Tim being the one raising the chances of them being made. Tim believed he was innocent because he wasn't directly participating.

Tim then stopped that plan, but not for any noble reason. He decided that he couldn't let anyone else kill Captain Boomerang but himself.

Tim couldn't bring himself to do that, either. So he had to spare his father's killer in the end.

This seems pretty cut and dry so far, right? Tim believing that letting villains die is alright as long he doesn't do the deed himself? I'd think so too, if there weren't other moments contradicting this.

In Robin #35, Steph insisted on leaving an enemy who got buried under the snow to die. Tim chastised her for it.

Neither of them were responsible for the snow, or for the enemy getting trapped in it. Plus, that guy tried to kill them with a chainsaw moments prior, so he's not exactly an innocent damsel in distress.

Maybe it was because this enemy wasn't a big enough fish to fry. We didn't really get confirmation that this guy has actually killed before, and he's around goon status at best.

But then in Robin #46, Tim chose to save another enemy who got himself into a deadly situation. That enemy was a murderer known as Young El. This time, Tim wasn't telling anyone else why they should save a murderer's life out loud. These were his private thoughts.

Notice how Tim's inner monologue sounded kind of on-the-fence. He contemplated justice finally catching up with Young El as the floorboards gave way, bringing a support beam down on him in the process.

However, Tim immediately switched gears to rescue Young El from under that beam before the water rose too high.

But Tim, as he told Young El the reasons he's saving him, asked himself "Do I even believe what I'm saying?" He could be asking this about two different things he said here. A) "Maybe it's not too late for you to learn something, Young El.", or B) "Death's easier for you when it's the other guy. Death's never been easy for me."

For Tim to doubt his belief in either of these statements is very interesting. He could be questioning if Young El is already too far gone for redemption, or he could be questioning if seeing someone die has never been easy for himself. For all we know, it could be both.

Unfortunately, Tim never got to see if his choice to save him would pay off. Tim wasn't strong enough to lift that beam, and Young El drowned.

There's a question on my mind as I read these pages. What makes this murderer's death different from when Tim let King Snake fall to his "death"? Sure, King Snake didn't actually die, but Tim didn't know that until later when the man came looking for revenge in Gotham.

Tim was once able to simply walk away from what he was certain would be a killer's demise. But then he's consumed by guilt over not being able to prevent a different killer's death down the line, to the point of hallucinating.

On top of that, what changed Tim's mind later? Red Robin #26 and Robins 2021 #3-6 still happened in the future. The only significant difference I can tell is that these two comics involved the killer's of Tim's parents, making it personal. But if the Imposter from Robins 2021 got his beliefs from his profile before his mother's killer got involved, then does that still hold up?

Maybe we should put a pin on it for now. There are other things Tim's done that brings the details of his no-kill rule into question.

Such as that one time Tim actually killed someone with his bare hands.

In Robin issues #51-52, Tim accidentally killed Lady Shiva while drugged on amarilla, a plant that enhances the user's speed beyond human limitations.

It may be argued if the amarilla altered Tim's mind enough to excuse him of fault or not. However, I want to focus on what happened after Shiva was revived. Here's another question to go with the first one:

Does Tim believe the kill still counts if the victim was revived afterwards?

From what I've gathered, yes and no. It's kind of complicated.

After Tim killed Shiva, he was understandably distressed about it, about how he can never take it back.

But after Shiva came back to life? Nothing. He didn't dwell on the fact he broke the vow to never kill. For something that devastating to happen in his life, it's odd that Tim didn't bring it up ever again, privately or otherwise. Especially considering what happened later in Robin #123, when Tim thought he killed Johnny Warlock.

Tim was utterly inconsolable. He lost all faith in his abilities as Robin, and in himself as a whole. It also contributed to his decision to quit being Robin after his dad found out. In general, he seriously dwelled on that "kill" for a much longer time than he had after killing Shiva. The difference being that he knew Shiva was resuscitated immediately afterwards, while Tim didn't know Johnny survived until issue #141.

But there's the fact that Shiva really did die. Her heart and breathing both stopped. So are we to believe Tim moved on from that so easily because she's alive now? What happened to never getting that back?

Come to think of it, not long after Tim killed and revived Shiva, there was someone else who landed in that same boat. Dick.

In Joker: The Last Laugh #6, Dick brutally attacked the Joker after believing he killed Tim. Dick ended up accidentally killing Joker instead, before the clown was resuscitated.

Here's the thing. While Tim was trying to comfort Dick, saying that it's ok because Joker's alive now, Dick didn't believe so. He was still distraught that he killed someone. The fact Joker came back to life afterwards didn't matter to him. To Dick, it still counted. So what does that say about Tim?

Before we move on, there's another person Tim knows who also died and came back from the grave. Jason.

Tim openly acknowledged Jason was killed before coming back, too. Multiple times. For example, when they met up in Red Hood and the Outlaws 2011 #8.

Tim hadn't shown any signs that he thinks Jason's murder doesn't count anywhere, except for maybe once.

In Knight Terrors: Robin #2, Tim and Jason had a heart-to-heart, and Tim said something strange.

"You survived."

Except Jason didn't survive. He died. To say Jason survived that night would've meant he never died to begin with. Him being alive now doesn't change that. Was this Tim telling a white lie to make Jason feel better? Or does Tim see being revived after death as "surviving"?

Ok, now we can move onto the next question. Or rather, bear with me as we go back to the first question. It's a broad topic with plenty more to talk about.

What does Tim count as breaking the no-kill rule?

We already asked how Tim feels about bringing villains back from the dead after killing them. And we asked how Tim feels about leaving a villain to die without getting directly involved. However, we still don't know how much involvement Tim needs to have in an enemy's death before he'll take responsibility for it.

We can confirm he won't mercy kill in Red Robin #21, even if it means giving someone a fate worse than death. No exceptions.

Tim also doesn't allow anyone he's actively teaming up with to kill, especially if he's the one in command. He's been amicable with known killers before (Huntress and Pru, for example), but only when they remain non-lethal while working alongside him.

Apart from that, though, it becomes less clear. However, I think this is a good place to expand on when Tim blew up a lot of League of Assassins bases in Red Robin #8.

I'm not going into whether or not those explosions actually killed anyone. I've seen evidence supporting both sides of this debate, so I'm just going to say it's up to interpretation. What I AM talking about is whether or not Tim would've felt responsible if they had killed someone.

Before overloading every generator in the LOA database, Tim gave a warning to the Wanderer. He told her that he couldn't be held responsible for what would happen to her if she didn't leave.

After initiating the explosions, Tim warned the White Ghost that they had fifteen seconds to leave before it was too late.

Fifteen seconds. That explanation on the mistake of letting him in might've taken roughly another fifteen to twenty seconds. Did the other bases even get a full minute head start? The way some of the people were already running away could imply they at least got a warning, but it's possible they might not have.

Even if everyone in every base received a warning, would that be enough for Tim to avoid holding himself accountable if they didn't make it out in time? Tim's the one who rigged the bases to explode, but I guess giving someone a warning means it's now their fault for not heeding it?

We can't be sure he even considered the possibility of those explosions killing anyone. Tim knew they were dangerous enough to bring the whole Cradle down, and the other ones we saw looked pretty powerful (except the ones in Ra's hideout). But Tim also called Ra's a murderer right after that happened, which would've been very hypocritical if Tim himself thought he committed murder.

So, my guess is either A) Tim relied on sheer luck for those explosions not causing any casualties and chose to believe they hadn't, or B) Tim didn't believe the deaths of anyone caught in them would be his fault.

Again, this isn't about whether or not blowing up the LOA bases killed anyone. It's about how willing Tim was to take that risk, and if he would've blamed himself for anyone getting killed from it.

Either way, it's canon that Tim had no guilt for the explosions he caused, or for anything he did before Red Robin #22. Just ask the Sword of Sin.

This is an exerpt I got from the Fandom DC Database on the Sword of Sin:

"The Sword of Sin can be ignited with the mind of the wielder, if the person is powerful enough. The sword has the ability to conjure in the mind its victims all of the sins for which they are guilty or have not atoned for."

When Tim was stabbed with this sword, he was immune. The Sword of Sin decided he was innocent. Although, I have to ask how reliable this sword was in making that judgement. If the sword is judging others based on its own set principles, then something's not right here.

The Sword of Sin was also used on Dick, and he wasn't immune. It dug into Dicks subconscious and unearthed memories he'd long since repressed. Memories of himself watching a boy get beaten to near death, and then doing nothing. He just walked away.

Now, tell me why the sword brought this to light, but not the time Tim left King Snake to die!

It wasn't an accident. Tim deliberately chose to leave instead of trying to save this man from the murderous Lady Shiva. Sure, Tim was no match for Shiva and he might've not been able to stop her, but the same could be said for an eight year old Dick not stopping a group of much older kids. Neither of them tried to stop the attackers.

Tim didn't atone for it, either. When King Snake returned in Batman #469, Bruce told King Snake that it wasn't Tim who left him to die. We know that's a lie, but Tim never corrected this. He let Shiva take all the blame.

We have two instances of a boy choosing not to prevent someone from having a near death experience. One guilty, and one innocent.

Did the Sword of Sin think Tim was justified because King Snake was corrupt? That doesn't sound holy to me.

Was it because Tim didn't feel any guilt over it, while Dick did? Can the sword's judgement be thrown off by the victim not feeling any shred of guilt over their actions, even subconsciously?

That could make sense given what we know Tim did in the past: King Snake falling, the vandalism (explosions), and ALL the lying over the years (Tim reviving Shiva might count as atonement, so I'm not including that). If the sword based its judgement on God's will alone, then odds are high it would've picked up on one of these.

Even so, I'm not going to sit here and say this is definitely the case. I'm not familiar enough with how the sword effects other characters to make that call.

If this is indeed false, then did the DC universe's version of God decide to pardon Tim of his sins when he prayed earlier that same issue, despite him not believing he had any? I mean, who knows, right?

You can probably see why there's more questions than answers. The point is Tim didn't have any guilt for the things he did before Red Robin #22. Tim was canonically convinced he had nothing to atone for.

So then why did he say the opposite later in Knight Terrors: Robin #2?!

In the heart-to-heart between Tim and Jason, Tim tells him this:

"You have a lot to atone for...We all do..."

Tim knows that the words "we all" include him, right? By saying this, Tim admitted to also having things he needs to atone for, right?

Is this another white lie to make Jason feel better? Is it one of those slight changes the New 52 made to the canon? If not, then why did he change his mind? Did his no-kill rule change and make him feel guilty for some past actions? Is it not the no-kill rule, but something else?

What changed?!

Where does Tim draw the line?

I don't know. We've narrowed it down to a general area, but it's kinda hard to see a line when it's so blurred it could be a gradient.

Tim baffles me. He acts as a steady moral compass for others when he can't even seem to stay consistent with his own. You're free to call it poor writing (and honestly, fair), but I find his hypocrisy fascinating.

That's what it is, isn't it? Tim's a hypocrite who's completely oblivious to being one. And it's not like this was never mentioned in the comics before. Damian called him out on it!

In Batman & Robin 2011 #10, Damian confronted Tim about his near-murderous reaction when Fist Point killed Artemis (Teen Titans Vol 4 annual #1). Damian then accused Tim of constantly rejecting him because they have more in common than Tim's willing to admit.

It's debatable how accurate that accusation was, but Tim had a pretty volatile reaction to it.

"I believe in every choice I make!"

Does he? I don't think someone who's so sure of what he believes in would contradict himself to this extent. Especially if he wasn't doing it on purpose.

He wouldn't vehemently push Bruce's no-kill rule onto others and berate them for bending that rule, only to go and bend that same rule himself when the Batclan isn't around. He also wouldn't exploit what he thinks are loopholes, decide later that those loopholes broke the no-kill rule, and then earnestly claim he never broke it.

Why is he like this?! He's had arguably the most normal childhood out of the whole Batclan before becoming Robin! What could've made him so fickle about this?!

Where does he draw the line? And how will he know when he's crossed it?

[myfictionaldreams]

~ Mafia!Stucky Mastlist⍟✪ 📚~

Hello lovely, I hope you’re having a great day. I thought it was about time I made a list dedicated to my favourite boys, so welcome to my Mafia!Stucky masterlit!I love to write in my spare time, and the fiction I create is for 18+ readers ONLY. Also, everything is character x fem!reader, and please, read the tags carefully before continuing.

Masterlists ♥ A03 ♥ Tags  ♥ Question? ♥ latest works ♥

you're mine (smut, angst, dark)

Steve loves showing off what’s his, you. What does eh do when he sees someone staring at what is his?

i need more (fluff, smut)

You’d been off all day and it hadn’t gone unnoticed by Steve. He’d do anything to make you feel better so when you started begging him to help you have some release, he didn’t hold back.

ruined orgasm - kinktober (smut)

He had given you one rule: do not interrupt the meeting. So, of course you had to walk straight into the meeting that had all of America’s most noterious gangsters

steve's birthday wish (P.1) (fluff, smut, angst)

It was approaching Steve’s birthday and you had no idea what to get him. Bucky suggests just asking the Mafia boss what he would like, but would you regret your decision when you hear what Steve truly wants.

When Two Become Three (P.2) (fluff, smut)

It has been a few weeks since Steve sat back and watched your be pleasured by his best friend Bucky, and you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Especially, the part where Steve confessed his fantasy to have a threesome, but would you ever agree to it?

one more meeting (fluff, smut, angst, dark)

For all of the years that you had known Steve and Bucky, you had never seen them lose control of their anger. All of the murder and violence always being calculated, calm, and dangerous. But today, that all changed and for the first time in years, you were truly scared of the boys you loved.

repeat after me(fluff, smut, angst)

It wasn’t often that you had to attend a party with your boyfriends but today, you found yourself at one, filling you with anxiety and dread. How will the boys react when they find you close to a panic attack and starting to doubt their love for you?

how many?(fluff, smut)

Steve had finally found time to take you and Bucky on holiday. What he doesn’t tell you however is that today, he wanted to see just how many times he and Bucky could get you to orgasm.

i can’t lose you (fluff, smut, angst, dark)

Being the girlfriend of the Mafia leader and his second in command had its dangers but for years, you'd never had to experience this. Until now. How will the boys react when you're put in danger?

no touching (fluff, smut, angst)

You blatantly ignored their instructions and now you had to suffer the repercussions for your actions.

i don’t care (fluff, smut)  

'The reader having a menstrual cycle, this one just a little worse than others, and Steve and Bucky worrying and helping her through it.'

the one weakness (fluff, smut, angst) 

It wasn't often you were by yourself so when you quickly go to the coffee shop, what happens when the enemy is watching and waiting nearby.

overwhelming (fluff)

It had been your birthday a few days ago and both Steve and Bucky had made it their mission to give you the most lavish party followed by intense, long nighttime activities. However as you lay in bed on Monday morning, something just didn't feel quite right.

the fun game  (fluff, smut)

Steve and Bucky had forgotten about your date, leaving you waiting for two hours in the restaurant. How will they react when you decide to play your own little game as payback and, how far can you go before they finally snap?

harder, please  (fluff, smut, angst)

Your mind was clouded with lust and pleasure, as you begged repeatedly for more from Bucky but, what happens when you get hurt in the process?

protect and forget  (fluff, smut, angst) 

Life as the girlfriend of the Mafia boss and his second-in-command was not always smooth sailing, everything did not always go to plan. Two weeks before your birthday, a threat was made to your life. What happens when Steve and Bucky begin to push you away as they search for the threat?

All Eyes On You  (smut)  

“Do you know what we would have done if we had turned up to that restaurant and seen you all dolled up like that? We would have bent you over the table in front of everyone and shown them exactly who you belonged to". - Steve Rogers

you belong to me  (fluff, smut, angst)

These girls knew you were dating Steve and Bucky, so why is it that they thought it was ok to have their hands all over them?

dont fall asleep  (fluff, smut, angst)

It was supposed to be a normal day, but not in fate's eyes as you and Sam are hit by a drunk driver. How will Steve and Bucky react when they hear their girls been hurt?

rule number one.  (fluff, smut, angst)

It was Bucky's birthday but even a surprise party won't stop Steve and Bucky from punishing you for not looking after yourself.

Last Hope (CH. 1) (CH. 2)  (fluff, smut, angst, dark)

Before dating Steve and Bucky, your life felt like a steel cage that you couldn't escape from because of your family business. There was no happiness or hope but, what happens when the infamously heartless mafia leader, Steve Rogers, finds you alone?

our little bean  (fluff, angst)    

You stared unblinking at the Doctor who had just told you the news you couldn't quite comprehend. You were on birth control, so why is the test in his hands saying that you're pregnant?  Accidents happened but is this a happy one? (Yes it is).

the limit  (fluff, smut, angst)

Everyone has a limit, this includes Steve and Bucky. What happens in different situations where each of you felt compelled to use your safewords?

sick day (fluff)

Bucky had warned you that dancing in that rain without a coat would lead you to be ill, maybe you should have listened more to his warning.

accident’s happen (fluff, smut, angst) 

You were visiting a friend when you were accidentally hit in the face, leaving behind a cut across your cheekbone. How will Steve and Bucky react when they see their girl injured?

everyone is breakable  (fluff, smut, angst)

Steve and Bucky were invincible in your eyes. They'd never been injured or in a situation where you thought they weren't the ones in control. That is until one day Bucky doesn't return from meeting with a client.

winter soup  (fluff, smut, angst)

There was no better feeling than a bowl of hot soup when you're feeling unwell and, what's even better is when it's delivered to your door every day by your new guard. It tasted amazing and you could always trust everyone in the Mafia... right?

something new   (smut)

The mafia leader was known to be possessive and enjoy showing off his girl but what happens when he wants to do this by being intimate in front of his gang?

pegging - kinktober  (smut)

Steve had once instructed bucky how to pleasure you but what happens when you’re the one being given the instructions?

cockwarming - kinktober (smut)

You’re feeling needy and restless so Steve offers you something to suck on, much to Bucky’s amusement.

double penetration in one hole - kinktober  (smut)

You were adament to prove Steve wrong and do something you’ve never done before.

fear play - kinktober (smut, dark)

You woke up to darkness, your phone was missing and, all you could was silence echoing around the house but, you knew you weren’t alone.

role reversal - kinktober  (smut)

For once, you were the one shouting at the enemy, demanding that they leave your office. Steve and Bucky were in awe so you tried to keep up this confidence and burn off some energy with them.

Duke, Duchess and Knights  (fluff, angst)

You get so lost in the fantasy dream that when it turns into a nightmare, you're not sure what reality is when you wake up screaming.

Merry Christmas (fluff, smut)

It was a simple question: Have you been naughty or nice this year?

Safety Measures (Angst, Smut, Fluff)

It was the anniversary of Steve and Bucky saving you from your sadistic brother. Usually, it was a time of celebration for you, but this year, you couldn't help but feel paranoid and unsafe.

Drabbles

The first to give their jacket when reader is cold

Mad & Sad moments

Saying the wrong thing

TikTok trend: no kissing

Who is more protective?

safe space in your new home

Halloween Costumes

[sinstae]

Candlelight 🕯️

Pairings | L&DS!Xavier x fem. reader

Genre | fluff, smut

Word Count | 2.3k

Warnings | cuteness overload 🐰, established relationship, switch!Xavier, switch!reader, oral, vaginal fingering, riding, creampie, bigdick!Xavier, needy boy, needy girl 😮‍💨

🔖 ; m.list♡

a/n ; gahhaah I been so busy I wanted to get this out on Xav’s bday but work kicking my ass mane 😭😮‍💨 it’s not a long one but short n sweet, hope ya ‘njoy! c;

"I'm home~"

I hear Xavier's voice call out and I quickly leave the spare bedroom, closing it behind me. I slip back into our bedroom and check my appearance a last time.

I decided this year for his birthday to do something at home being that he was busy in the city all day. I know it’d be troublesome and tiring for him to go out and be around others who want to spend it with him.

We’re similar in that way with our social batteries. We can only take so much before words become sounds of acknowledgement and mannerisms come off as rude. Thankfully we can both also communicate when the disconnect happens before things go that way.

Xavier has had one of those days. Where his social battery died far too early while working because all he could think about is how I got the day off but he couldn’t escape his duties.

I still woke at his early hours and followed through our entire morning routine together. He spent any spare moment clinging to me, pressing kisses behind my ear and nibbling my neck. I sent him off with a nicely packed lunch of his favorites and getting him out the door without me was almost impossible.

The bedroom door creaks open and Xavier's droopy eyes find me, widening as he takes in my appearance. I decided to style my hair donning a pale yellow silk babydoll dress with lace and a cute bust bow. The back is open and drops down just above my waistline with a pretty bird hanging mid back from a chain along the neckline. Instead of pairing it with the usual thigh highs I opted for a matching lace garter.

"Y/N. . ."

"Well?" I bite back a giggle as I do a slow twirl for him, lingering a bit so he'd catch glimpse of everything.

"You're so beautiful, baby." I can see the glimmer in his eyes, the dullness that must have sat there through his day is slowly fading away the longer he's in my presence. It makes my heart wanna burst.

"Thank you, my handsome, hardworking man." I open my arms as he makes quick steps to get to me, wrapping them snug around his neck as he lifts me into his arms.

He does so with ease, face buried in my neck where he inhales. He moans as the familiar mix of sweat and the sweet perfume he'd bought me settles in and comforts him. He sways us while pressing soft kisses to my jugular then slowly bends to place my feet back to the floor.

Xavier's hands slide up from my bare back to cup my cheeks, holding me with my head tilted to deliver a firm, impatient kiss. "'Missed you so much, Darling."

"I missed you too, Xav." The softness in his eyes and tint to his cheeks makes my toes curl from how cute he looks being recharged. I press my nose to his and he gently rubs them together then places a soft kiss to mine. "I have something prepared for you."

"Oh? Well, do show me, please." Another soft kiss to my cheek before he pulls away.

"Tsk. You know the rules. Hard work doesn't exempt you." I playfully scold him and he humors me with a dramatic sigh.

"Yes, Mommy."

My smile is wiped clean from my face and instead I feel my temperature rise and face grow hot. Xavier smirks, proud of the reaction he's gotten as he saunters past and heads into the walk-in closet.

I grip the ends of my dress, stuck for a moment not knowing what I should do or how to handle what just happened. Xavier loves a good pet name, he even likes to call me the strangest things at times (once : "my dragonfruit") and was given no explanation. He's extremely cute ninety percent of the time so who cares he can call me whatever he likes.

But Mommy?

Xavier also doesn't shy away from me taking the lead sometimes as well. While he's never gotten as far into subspace as I have there are moments he allows me the reigns. Is this his way of saying he wants that tonight?

The sink turns off, taking my thoughts with it and soon Xavier steps out in his two piece pajama set, colors on theme with mine with a beautiful "X" weaved into the collar with lightshards to decorate. Part of his birthday present I'd hung on the bathroom door knowing he'd see it before the rest of the night.

"Well?" He enacts my same moment from earlier and I take in his appearance; tall, toned figure with his stomach on display through the unbuttoned top. The silk pants fit him perfectly, hanging dangerously low on his hips and with a glimpse of his pale happy trail I can tell he's free-balling.

"Yummy." I wink at him and he chuckles, brushing his hair from his eyes with his fingertips. I hold out my hand and he walks forward, slipping his soft one in mine. "Come, let me show you what I prepared."

“Xav, that tickles.” I giggle and swat at his hand that’s drawing faint circles into my inner thigh. 

We’re in the spare room that I’d transformed into a home theater for the night. I kept the theme with gold, white and yellow balloons, curtains, and fairy lights. On the coffee table sat a platter of majority his favorite finger foods with a few of my own thrown in. With our bellies full of snacks and the warmth from the scented candles, we’ve inched into a cuddle with my legs draped over his lap.

“Mmm, can’t help it. You’re so soft and you smell amazing.” I tear my eyes from the screen playing “Nevertheless” and his eyes are hazed over, locking onto mine instantly. 

I know that look.

“Yeah? It’s the set you got me for my birthday. The lotion, it's very nice.” He hums and leans down into my neck to inhale deeply. 

“Wanna taste you.”

Heat rises and paints my cheeks rosy at his admission and I slip my hand into his hair at his nape, tugging gently. His breath hitches, eyes never leaving mine even as I’m drawn closer.

"Wanna be my good boy? Hm?" He nods once, twice. "Down." He's quick and precise in his routine of throwing pillows down to the fluffy carpeted floor.

I myself move down the large open sofa until my feet rest along the edge while propped up on my elbows. He's decided to abandon his top, pretty smooth skin illuminated in orange from the glow of the candles.

"So pretty. . ." The words leave my mouth without thought and Xavier smirks, eyes dropping as his cheeks mirror mine in color. "You are Bun." Voice a little louder now as I double down.

"Thank you, Mommy." His gorgeous azul orbs meet mine again as my breath catches. That damn title again. "Please, can I have you now?"

Something about tonight, the way he's damn near a puddle in my hands (thighs) has all my senses heightened.

"Of course, Bun. I'm all yours." I smile at him, one that reaches my eyes and he release a short puff of air before sliding his hands up my freshly shaved legs. He takes his time, eyes finally breaking away so he could follow his hands with kisses.

Once he reaches my hips I lift and instead of removing my panties like I'd thought he would, he pauses. Confused, I drop my hips back down and he slides his hand along my tummy, pushing my dress up to shed light on my panties.

Custom ones that I'd forgotten about even though I've been biting my nails hoping it would go unnoticed by him in our shared closet.

"Surprise." I giggle and bite my bottom lip, anticipating his reaction. His eyes are locked in on his name embroidered in cursive right below the waistband. It's a beautiful off-white lace designed thong with open access to my pussy.

"If I weren't grounded right now I'd surely be one with the stars. . . Y/N this is-" He groans as he opens my legs further, pussy lips parting to the cool air, clenching and releasing my cum. "-breathtaking."

Xavier leans forward and latches onto me, warm tongue pressed flat in a languid stroke upwards to my clit. I moan loudly, arms buckling from the sudden rush of pleasure as he kitten licks my clit with the tip of his tongue.

"Bun~ m'fuck-" I throw my head back, unable to keep my eyes on the scene as my toes curl against the soft fabric. Xavier moves back down to my dripping hole and rotates his tongue quickly and precisely like a starved man. His large, soft hands are gripping the meaty part of my outer thighs as he keeps me close from squirming too much.

"S'good, Mommy. . . You taste so good- so pretty." He directs the last compliment towards my pussy as he laps at it again. I look down and meet his gaze, eyes fierce and cloudy with lust.

He smirks then drags his fingertips down, taunting and playful until he joins them with his tongue. While sucking my clit softly he easily slides in his middle and ring finger.

My elbows completely give out and I flop down, back arching as he curls his long fingers right up against my g-spot. He hums against me sending a tidal wave of arousal through me again.

"Xav- mmph-! Gonna come baby." I reach down and tug gently on his ash blonde hair and he sucks harder, fingers quicker. I release onto his fingers and into his mouth as he removes them to lick me up as my body buzzes and relaxes.

Once he's satisfied with his cleaning he kisses his way up my body, manhandling me to scoot me up further so he could crawl up and hover above me.

"Wan' you to ride me." His voice is soft as he nudges his nose against my chin a few times.

"My Bun. . ." I gently caress his earlobe and he leans into my touch. "Lay down for me, cutie." He presses a kiss to my lips before doing as I say and removing his pants, bangs falling away to reveal more of his face.

I crawl on top of him and his hands finds place on my hips, thumbs drawing circles. "Wanna see these too. . ." Xavier reaches up a hand to cup my breast over the silk, gently pinching my nipple.

I press my pussy onto his erection and he hisses, pinching a bit harder. A noise akin to a whimper and moan graces his ears making him impossibly harder. I slip the dress off and drape it over the back of the couch in haste, bending over to position his thick, leaking tip at my hole.

Xavier tries to thrust up into me and I inch higher while bracing myself onto his chest to keep him down. "Aht- Good boys are patient." He shoots me a warning look and I giggle at his cute pout having mercy on him as I sink down.

Our moans fill the room as his thick girth stretches me out to his size fighting against my tight walls since he'd last been buried deep. The burn is quick and forgotten about as it seeps into pleasure the more my hips rise and fall. Our skin meets in soft paps as sweat lingers around areas close together.

"Balls deep Mommy fuck- ah~ Shit it feels so good I- I can't last." He's gasping with his eyes barely open, tongue peeking out a bit at the corner.

"Bun please~ For me? Jus' one more, it feels so good baby you~ ah!" My words are cut off as Xavier plants his feet firmly and raises my hips in his strong hold, keeping me there to rail up into me with force.

The pleasure is blinding as his tip breaches into my cervix, a tight tension building in the depths of my belly. I try to escape his deep thrust, inching higher up his body but he follows and accepts my breast now dangling in front of him to capture in a needy suck.

My pussy clenches allowing him to slip a little bit deeper and sends me into an eye rolling orgasm. Xavier hisses, reaching a hand to grip at the base of my neck, holding me still as he shoots rope after rope of his warm cum right into the opening of my cervix.

I groan in a bit of discomfort at the bloated feeling while my body shakes from sensitivity. I collapsed into his neck and he's pressing soft kisses between my head and face.

"I'm gonna pull out now, Darling." I hum and bury my face deeper into his neck. He slowly pulls out, surprisingly with none of his cum following and cradles me close as we transition to laying on our sides while he drapes our blanket over us from the floor.

I feel my body relax further, willing myself to open my eyes and see him a last time before sleep takes over.

Xavier smiles as he meets my teary eyes, fingertip tracing tear streaks of pure happiness and ecstasy. He looks equally fucked out and blissful with his soft strands sticking to his heated forehead. The sweat he worked up releases his natural musk mixed with his cologne makes my head spin.

"Feeling okay?"

"Mmh.. so okay." Xavier chuckles at my response, pressing a kiss to my nose. "Happy birthday, Bun." I sleepily blink up at him with a dopey smile that he presses a quick kiss to.

"Thank you, Y/NN~ Sleep my precious girl, I got you." I allow my eyes to close, nuzzling more into the crook of his neck and sleep soon finds us both as we bask in each other's embrace under the candlelight.

[badger-tales]

More Than Meets The Eye//F.W x Reader

a/n: oops I went a little crazy with this fic. i was only gonna write like 2k.

request:

Hii!🫶🏻

Can i request Fred Wealey x Slytherin reader?Fred wouldn't spare a second glance at her because he expected her to be mean and arrogant...and then they bond through a prank.He gets to know her.He is surprised at how well they get along.She still has a strong personality,like being determined and ambitious,prioritizes her goals, but they also share common humor with Fred,supports him and his dream,is honest,stands up for him and his family and etc.

Honestly, I am more about the beginning of their connection,but I'd be very happy if you want to add romance.

Also, I wouldn't mind if the reader is gn.

Thanks in advance!♡♡

word count: 7.4k

Fred Weasley had never really given much thought to anyone in Slytherin, especially not you. It wasn’t anything personal—well, actually, it sort of *was*. From the moment he and George had stepped into Hogwarts, they’d been fed the same story over and over again: Slytherins were ambitious, ruthless, cold, and far too pleased with themselves for anyone’s liking. That was just the way it was. House stereotypes ran deep, and for Fred, those old tales of Slytherin superiority seemed to hold more than a little truth. 

Most of the Slytherins he encountered fit the mold perfectly—smug, calculating, always scheming in their own dark corners of the castle. In Fred’s eyes, they had an aura about them, a kind of icy detachment that separated them from the warmth of Gryffindor camaraderie. So it was only natural that he didn’t spare you more than a passing glance whenever you crossed paths. 

At least, not until that day.

You weren’t mean, necessarily, but there was something about you that set you apart—a kind of magnetic presence that made people take notice. Maybe it was the way you moved with confidence, the way you held your head high like you always knew exactly where you were going and how to get there. You walked the halls like you owned them, and for Fred, that kind of self-assurance could only mean one thing: you were another one of those Slytherins. The type that had ambition running through their veins, and absolutely no time to waste on anything or anyone that didn’t serve their goals. 

You always seemed focused—too focused. Good grades, a close-knit group of friends, and that perpetual look of someone already ten steps ahead of everyone else. You never bothered with Gryffindors unless you had to, and Fred had long assumed he was no exception to that rule. You hardly ever looked his way, and he certainly didn’t make the effort to look back.

But all of that changed the day you pranked him.

It had started off like any other afternoon in the Great Hall. Fred and George had been huddled together at the Gryffindor table, heads bent in deep discussion about their next grand plan. The hall was alive with the usual chatter and clinking of silverware, but the twins were in their own world, plotting whatever chaos they could unleash next.

Fred was mid-sentence, leaning over the table, when suddenly—BAM. A bone-chilling shock of cold hit him, ripping through his body like he’d been plunged into the icy depths of the Black Lake. His breath hitched, and without thinking, he shot up from the bench, arms flailing, his wet robes clinging to his skin. Water dripped from his hair and pooled at his feet, and he shivered uncontrollably as the hall erupted in laughter.

It took him a second to regain his bearings, blinking as he processed what had just happened. George, looking equally baffled, stared at Fred’s drenched form with wide eyes, hands lifted in mock surrender.

“That wasn’t us,” George muttered, casting a wary glance around the hall. “Who—?”

Fred didn’t even get a chance to finish his thought before a soft, unmistakable chuckle floated across the table. His ears perked up, and his gaze followed the sound. There you were, sitting a few seats away, your arms casually crossed over your chest as you watched him with a look of pure amusement. The faintest smirk tugged at the corners of your lips, but it was the glint in your eyes that caught Fred’s attention—the kind of glint that screamed mischief.

You tilted your head slightly, raising a single eyebrow as your eyes locked with Fred’s. You didn’t say a word, but the message was clear as day: Got you. The smirk deepened, and Fred felt the heat rise to his cheeks—not from embarrassment, but from theyer disbelief.

Had you, a Slytherin, just pranked him? 

Fred stood there, blinking, momentarily thrown off-kilter. Slytherins didn’t prank. They schemed, sure, but this? This was something else entirely. He’d expected arrogance, maybe a condescending remark or two, but this? This playful, teasing glimmer in your eyes—this was a whole new side of you he’d never seen before.

For a split second, Fred didn’t know whether to be annoyed or impressed. But as the hall’s laughter died down, he felt his mouth twitch into a grin, the shock fading into something more like admiration. It wasn’t every day someone managed to catch him off guard. And for you, of all people, to pull it off? Well, that was something he could respect.

Fred glanced at George, who was still trying (and failing) to stifle his own laughter. “Looks like someone’s playing our game,” George said, nudging Fred with his elbow.

Fred’s grin widened as he turned back to you, shaking off the last of the water from his robes. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered under his breath, loud enough for you to hear. “Didn’t think I’d see the day a Slytherin pulled one over on me.”

You didn’t reply, but the satisfied smirk on your face said it all.

Fred stared at you, still dripping wet, his shock morphing into something else entirely—a blend of disbelief and curiosity. His brows were raised, and there was a slight flicker of admiration in his eyes. He hadn’t expected you to be behind it. Not you. He wiped the water off his face with a quick swipe of his sleeve, blinking through the last remnants of surprise.

"Was that you?" Fred asked, his voice a mixture of incredulity and—though he wouldn’t admit it yet—something like respect.

Your smirk only grew wider, a glint of satisfaction dancing in your eyes as you met his gaze without hesitation. “Maybe,” you replied, your tone casual and entirely unbothered, as if soaking one of the Weasley twins was a perfectly ordinary part of your day. You leaned back slightly, watching his reaction with amusement. “It’s not like you Gryffindors own the art of mischief, you know.”

Fred blinked again, still caught off guard by your audacity. Slytherins didn’t pull pranks like this—at least, not ones that weren’t dripping with malice or some underhanded agenda. But this? This was pure fun, a clever, harmless trick. His kind of fun. His lips twitched upward despite himself, the corners of his mouth lifting into a grin that was more impressed than anything else.

“Right, well,” Fred said slowly, his surprise now melting into something warmer, “I can appreciate a well-executed prank, even when I’m the one getting soaked.”

You tilted your head, your smirk deepening as you shrugged, the gesture effortlessly cool. “I’d hope so,” you replied, eyes never leaving his. “Thought you could use a taste of your own medicine.”

Fred let out a short laugh, and for a moment, it felt like the entire hall had faded into the background—the noise of clattering plates and chatter dulling to a distant hum. You had his full attention now, and he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that you’d just broken some sort of unspoken rule. Slytherins didn’t prank him. Yet here you were, defying every expectation he had, and doing it with style.

George, still laughing beside him, clapped Fred on the shoulder, clearly enjoying the moment as much as Fred was. “they’s got you there, mate.”

Fred kept his eyes on you, studying you in a way he hadn’t before. There was something about the way you carried yourself—sure, you were ambitious, confident like any Slytherin. But there was something else too. A spark of humor, a playful side that Fred hadn’t seen in you or any of your housemates. It was like you weren’t just focused on winning or getting ahead; you enjoyed the game itself, the thrill of pulling off something clever. 

After that day, Fred couldn’t help but notice you more. Whether it was in the common spaces between classes or across the Great Hall at mealtimes, there was a new, unspoken connection between the two of you. A shared look, a grin exchanged across the room, and sometimes, when the timing was just right, a wink if one of you had managed to pull off something particularly sneaky. You didn’t hang around with the Gryffindors, not like Fred’s usual circle, but it didn’t matter. There was something about you—something that felt a little too familiar, like the two of you were cut from the same cloth in ways Fred hadn’t anticipated.

It was a few days later when Fred and George were sitting in a quiet corner of the castle, heads bent together over a crumpled piece of parchment as they plotted their next grand scheme. The brothers were deep in discussion, hutheyd whispers and wicked grins, when your voice cut through the air, smooth and teasing.

"Planning something good?" you asked, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. You leaned against the wall with your arms crossed, just enough swagger in your stance to grab their attention without even trying.

Fred looked up, a slow grin spreading across his face as he leaned back against the stone wall. “Always,” he said, his voice light and playful. “Why? Want in?”

You didn’t answer right away, instead tapping your chin thoughtfully, as if weighing your options. Finally, with a small, amused hum, you gave a short nod. “Could be fun. What are we targeting?”

George’s eyes went wide, flicking between Fred and you as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. “Are we seriously teaming up with a Slytherin?” he asked, though the glint of excitement in his tone betrayed him.

Fred shrugged, shooting you a sideways grin. “Why not? they've got talent.”

At that, you flatshed a quick grin of your own—sharp, confident, and just mischievous enough to match the Weasley twins. Something in Fred’s chest warmed at the sight. He hadn’t expected to like you this much, hadn’t thought you’d be the kind of person who could stand shoulder to shoulder with him and George in the art of causing magical mayhem. But here you were, already fitting right in with the two of them, your mind working just as fast, just as sharp. It was almost too easy—like you were meant to be part of the team.

It didn’t take long for the three of you to hatch a plan. The idea was bold, ambitious, and absolutely hilarious: charming all of Hogwarts’ staircases to reverse themselves at random intervals, creating chaos for anyone trying to get anywhere in the castle for at least an hour. Fred could already picture it—students lost, moving in circles, teachers getting increasingly flustered as they tried to reach their classrooms. It was perfect.

As you all sat together, conspiring over the finer details of the prank, Fred couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of camaraderie. There was something electric in the air, a shared excitement that buzzed between the three of you. It wasn’t just the thrill of the prank itself—it was the fact that you were part of it. That, somehow, the boundaries between Gryffindor and Slytherin didn’t seem to matter when you were plotting mischief together.

And as Fred exchanged a glance with you, your eyes gleaming with the same kind of mischief that always lived in his, he realized that this was only the beginning.

When the prank finally went off without a single hitch—just as the three of you had planned it—Fred couldn’t help but feel a surge of genuine admiration. The chaotic symphony of moving staircases, confused shouts, and students doubling back in frustration echoed throughout the castle. Everything unfolded exactly as intended. It was a beautiful disaster, one Fred and George might have taken full credit for under normal circumstances, but this time, there was someone else in the mix. 

You.

He glanced over at you amidst the mayhem, and for what felt like the hundredth time that day, he found himself impressed. You were sharper than he'd realized, quick on your feet with ideas and witty comebacks, and your sense of humor? It matched his own in a way that surprised him. Where he and George were used to bouncing ideas off each other in perfect sync, adding you to the mix had been... effortless. It was almost as if you'd been part of their mischief-making duo all along. The way you kept up, even outsmarting them in some cases, made Fred feel like he’d finally met someone outside of his brother who got it—the thrill, the fun, the sheer genius of a perfectly executed prank.

And the more he thought about it, the more he liked it. He liked how you weren’t afraid to speak your mind, whether it was about the prank or something else entirely. There was a blunt honesty about you that Fred found refreshing. It wasn’t like the typical Gryffindor bravado he was so used to—charging into things headfirst and hoping for the best. No, with you, it was different. There was a sharpness to your words, a determination that showed how driven you were toward your own goals. You were ambitious, no doubt about it. But you weren’t above teaming up for something as ridiculous as a prank.

That night, as the three of you sat together near the Gryffindor common room, celebrating the chaos you’d unleatheyd on the castle, Fred found himself laughing—really laughing, the kind that made his stomach ache and tears prick at the corners of his eyes. George, too, was still chuckling beside him, recounting the way Snape had nearly gotten caught in one of the staircases as it reversed direction. But Fred’s focus wasn’t entirely on his brother. It kept drifting back to you.

As the laughter slowly faded into an easy silence, Fred leaned against the stone wall, catching his breath. He looked at you, and for the first time, he realized just how wrong he’d been—not just about Slytherins, but about you. All that time, he’d thought of you as nothing more than another ambitious snake with no room in your life for fun or friendship. But here you were, your laughter still lingering in the air, looking more at ease than he’d ever seen you.

"You're not so bad," Fred said, nudging you playfully with his elbow, his grin still lingering. You were standing near the entrance to the Gryffindor common room, your posture relaxed in a way that told Fred you were no longer trying to prove anything—to him or anyone else. It was just you. And he liked that.

You shot him a look, but there was no real bite to it, just a teasing smile that softened your features. "Thanks, Weasley. You're not half as annoying as I thought you’d be either."

Fred chuckled, but there was something in your voice—something light, playful, but genuine. It wasn’t just teasing; it was a little warmer than that, like maybe this whole thing had surprised you too. The back-and-forth between you two was easy, natural even, and Fred found that he liked this feeling—this... whatever it was.

For a moment, the two of you stood there in the glow of the flickering torches, silence settling comfortably between you as the others around you continued chatting. Fred turned toward you again, his grin softening into something more thoughtful.

"You know..." he began, scratching the back of his neck. "I’m glad we did this. I didn’t think I’d ever say it, but I actually enjoy having you around."

The words were sincere, maybe more sincere than Fred had meant them to be, but he didn’t take them back. He couldn’t. Because the truth was, he really did like having you around. You weren’t just some prank partner or an occasional clever rival—you were someone who challenged him in ways he didn’t expect. And that? Well, that made you someone worth knowing.

Your smile grew just a little warmer at his words, and for a second, Fred swore he saw something shift in your expression—something almost... fond. "Careful, Fred," you said, your voice carrying a hint of amusement. "People might start thinking we’re friends."

Fred let out a light laugh, though it felt like something more, something unspoken passing between the two of you. "Would that be such a bad thing?"

You didn’t answer right away, instead turning the question over in your mind, and Fred could see that you weren’t dismissing it outright. It wasn’t like you to offer your trust or friendship easily. You were too sharp for that, too guarded, too Slytherin, maybe. But then, after a moment, you shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips.

"No," you said, your tone softer now. "I suppose not."

And that was it. Simple words, exchanged in the quiet of the evening, but to Fred, they felt heavier than they should have—like you’d just let him in, just a little, but enough to know there was something real there.

Fred didn’t say anything more, didn’t need to. But as he stood there beside you, he felt something settle inside him, a lightness he hadn’t expected. Maybe you weren’t just a Slytherin. Maybe you weren’t just the ambitious, clever person he’d thought you were. Maybe you were something more. Someone more.

And maybe—just maybe—you were someone he wanted to know a lot better.

Days had a way of blurring together at Hogwarts, especially when you were caught up in the whirlwind of pranks and laughter, but lately, Fred found himself paying more attention to the small moments. The little flashes of time where you crossed paths—fleeting, but somehow charged with a new energy. It started slowly at first. He'd catch your eye across the Great Hall, a brief glance that always ended with a knowing smirk exchanged between the two of you. Then in class, he'd feel your gaze on him from across the room, or he’d notice you walking ahead in the corridors, and something inside him would stir—a spark of recognition, of expectation.

It was odd, really. Fred had never thought he'd actually enjoy the company of a Slytherin, especially outside of a prank war. But here you were, slipping seamlessly into the chaos of his life, like you'd been part of the madness all along. You fit in so naturally with him and George that it was starting to feel like you were an honorary Weasley twin—sharp, quick-witted, and always one step ahead. You weren’t just a partner-in-prank; you were a constant presence now, someone Fred had grown used to looking for, whether he’d admit it or not.

The pranks kept coming, too. After the staircase stunt, which had sent the whole castle into a delightful frenzy, you, Fred, and George had begun working on a series of smaller, subtler stunts. It was almost too easy. You always seemed to know exactly what would work, how to make the chaos just disruptive enough to be hilarious but not catastrophic. Fred couldn’t help but admire that. It wasn’t just that you could keep up with him and George—it was the fact that you made the mischief better.

But what surprised Fred most was how much he enjoyed being around you when there wasn’t a prank in progress. It wasn’t just about causing trouble anymore. It was something deeper, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. The way you laughed, the way you challenged him in conversation, even the way you’d give him that small, genuine smile—those were the moments Fred found himself thinking about more than he cared to admit.

It was on one of those rare afternoons when Hogwarts seemed quieter than usual. The hustle and bustle of the castle had slowed, and Fred, fresh from Quidditch practice, his broom slung casually over his shoulder, was heading back to the common room when he spotted you by the lake. You were sitting alone, reading, the usual group of Slytherins conspicuously absent. 

The sight of you, bathed in the soft light of the afternoon sun, caught him off guard. You looked different here, outside of the usual spaces where chaos brewed. Fred hesitated for only a moment, feeling an unfamiliar boldness rise within him. He wasn’t about to let this chance slip by.

Grinning to himself, he walked over, his long strides carrying him swiftly across the grass until he was close enough to cast a playful shadow over your book. "Well, this is unexpected," he teased, dropping down onto the grass beside you without waiting for an invitation. "You, out in broad daylight, no mischief in sight? I’m shocked."

You glanced up from your book, one eyebrow arched as you took him in. "Believe it or not, Weasley," you said dryly, "I do have other things going on besides plotting your downfall."

Fred let out a laugh, stretching his legs out and leaning back on his elbows, completely at ease in your presence. "I don’t know," he replied, casting you a sideways glance. "You’ve got a talent for it. Can’t imagine you giving it up entirely."

"Who said I’m giving it up?" you shot back smoothly, closing your book and setting it aside with deliberate care. "Maybe I’m just taking a break before the next strike."

Fred’s grin widened. There it was again—that playful edge, that back-and-forth that came so naturally between you two. He couldn’t help himself; he nudged you lightly with his elbow, the gesture almost affectionate. "I should be worried, shouldn’t I?"

You shrugged, the faintest of smiles tugging at your lips. "Probably," you said, though there was a spark of amusement in your eyes.

It was that smile, that small, genuine smile, that did something to Fred. He was starting to realize how much he liked seeing it, how much he looked for it in those quieter moments between the laughter and chaos. You didn’t smile easily—not like George, not even like Fred himself—but when you did, it was real. Honest.

There was something about you—something different from anyone else Fred had ever known. It was in the way you held back, keeping parts of yourself hidden, but not in a cold or distant way. It was just... you. Fred respected that, maybe even admired it. You didn’t need to prove yourself to anyone, and that made the moments when you let your guard down—like right now—all the more meaningful.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the breeze ruffling the pages of the book beside you. Fred found himself glancing at you again, his usual grin softening slightly. You were just sitting there, reading by the lake, no pranks or schemes, no grand plans for the next wave of chaos. And yet, Fred felt that same warmth, the same pull toward you that he’d been feeling for weeks now.

"Don’t tell me you’re actually reading that," Fred teased lightly, nodding toward the book, though his tone wasn’t as sharp as usual. "Seems awfully serious for someone who’s so good at plotting pranks."

You laughed softly, and Fred swore it was one of his new favorite sounds. "I can have layers, you know," you said, rolling your eyes. "Contrary to popular belief, my entire existence doesn’t revolve around your demise."

"Shame," Fred replied, eyes twinkling. "Keeps things interesting."

"Don’t worry," you said with a smirk. "I’ll make sure to keep you on your toes, Weasley."

Fred grinned, something fluttering in his chest that felt a little like excitement, but something else too—something he wasn’t quite ready to admit to himself just yet. Maybe it was the fact that being around you felt easy, natural. Or maybe it was because he knew that you weren’t just someone to laugh with or prank with. There was more to you than that, and Fred couldn’t deny that he wanted to know all of it.

As the sun began to sink lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over the lake, Fred found himself wishing for more afternoons like this—where it was just you and him, no distractions, no grand schemes. Just the two of you, sitting by the lake, exchanging easy banter, sharing something that felt... right.

He didn’t say it out loud, but Fred knew. He liked you. Maybe more than he’d expected. Maybe more than he was ready to admit.

“So, what’s next on the list of Slytherin goals?” Fred asked, his voice casual, though there was an unmistakable flicker of genuine curiosity beneath his playful tone. He wasn’t used to asking questions like that, not with people outside his usual circle, but with you? There was something about you that made him want to know more—something beyond the pranks and witty comebacks.

You leaned back on your elbows, eyes fixed on the shimmering surface of the Black Lake, where the late afternoon sunlight danced on the water in rippling, golden threads. The world around you was quiet, peaceful in a way that felt rare at Hogwarts. Fred watched as you seemed to contemplate his question for a moment, your gaze distant, thoughtful. Finally, you spoke, your voice steady but relaxed, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"I’ve got my eye on a few things," you said, exhaling softly. "Mostly school-related, getting ahead in my classes." You glanced at him then, as if already anticipating his reaction. "I know it sounds boring to you, but I’m not about to coast through just because I can pull off a good prank."

Fred tilted his head slightly, watching you in a way he hadn’t really done before. He’d always been the kind of person who found more joy in breaking the rules than following them, living for the thrill of chaos and spontaneity. But you? You seemed to walk a fine line, balancing ambition and fun, seriousness and mischief. You weren’t defined by any one thing, and that intrigued him more than he wanted to admit.

“Nah, doesn’t sound boring at all,” Fred said after a pause, surprising himself as much as you. His voice had softened, no trace of his usual sarcasm or teasing grin. "I respect it, actually. You know what you want, and you’re not afraid to go after it."

You turned your head to look at him, a bit taken aback by the sincerity in his words. Fred Weasley wasn’t exactly known for deep, thoughtful conversations, but there was something in his tone—something real—that made you stop and consider him in a new light. It wasn’t just a passing compliment. He meant it.

"And what about you, Weasley?" you asked, sitting up a bit straighter now, your interest piqued. "What are your big ambitions? Or is it all just pranks and Quidditch with you?"

Fred chuckled, though the sound was quieter than usual. He shifted his position, plucking absently at the blades of grass between his fingers. The question caught him off guard in a way that few things did. He’d never really thought too seriously about his future—at least, not in the way you seemed to think about yours. But now, sitting here with you, the question felt like it demanded more than his usual joking response.

“Me and George—we’ve got dreams,” he began, a bit hesitant. His voice wasn’t quite as confident as usual, and for once, it lacked its typical swagger. “We want to open a joke shop, you know? Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes.” He let the name hang in the air for a moment, as if testing how it sounded when said aloud. “But it’s just an idea for now.”

You shifted slightly, turning to face him more fully. There was something in the way he said it that made you pay closer attention, something in the way the words seemed both hopeful and uncertain. "A joke shop?" you repeated, intrigued. "Sounds like you’re well on your way already. Between you and George, half the school already thinks you run one."

Fred chuckled again, but this time there was a trace of uncertainty in his laugh. His fingers played with the grass as he looked down, avoiding your gaze for a moment. "Maybe," he admitted, his tone a bit quieter now. "But it’s risky, you know? Our mum thinks it’s all a big waste of time."

You frowned, your brows knitting together in disbelief. "That’s ridiculous," you said firmly, your voice full of conviction. “Your pranks are brilliant, Fred. You’ve got something here—something that could be bigger than you realize.”

Fred blinked, his head snapping up to look at you, taken aback by the weight of your words. He wasn’t used to hearing people take his ideas seriously, not like this. Sure, George was always by his side, and the two of them had enough confidence to laugh in the face of doubt, but this? You weren’t just humoring him. You believed in him. And that hit harder than he expected.

“You really think so?” he asked, his usual bravado softening, his voice quieter than you’d ever heard it.

You didn’t hesitate, meeting his gaze with a steady certainty that made Fred’s heart do a small, unexpected flip. "Of course I do," you replied, your voice calm but firm. "You’ve got a gift for making people laugh, Fred. That’s not something to take lightly. The world could use more of that. And if it’s what you want, you shouldn’t let anyone stop you—not even your mum."

For a moment, Fred couldn’t speak. He just stared at you, the words sinking in, warming him from the inside out in a way that caught him off guard. It was rare for him to feel this way—this seen, this understood. Most people saw him as just the jokester, the prankster, always up to something but never serious. But you saw him differently, and that meant more than he could put into words.

A slow, genuine smile spread across Fred’s face, but it wasn’t his usual cheeky grin. It was something softer, more real, a smile that reached his eyes and stayed there. "You know," he said after a moment, his voice a little lighter, "for someone who’s all about ambition and personal goals, you’re a pretty good friend."

You raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint returning to your eyes. "Is that your way of saying you like having me around, Weasley?"

Fred let out a soft laugh, nudging you playfully with his shoulder. "Maybe. Don’t let it go to your head."

But as the two of you sat there by the lake, the sun sinking lower on the horizon, Fred couldn’t shake the warmth spreading through his chest. For the first time, he wasn’t just thinking about pranks or jokes or the next laugh. He was thinking about you—about the way you saw him, the way you understood him in a way no one else did.

And for the first time in a long while, Fred wondered if maybe, just maybe, there was something more between you than friendship. Something worth exploring.

You scoffed lightly. "You say that like being ambitious means I don’t care about other people. I just don’t waste time on people who aren’t worth it."

Fred leaned back on his elbows, mirroring your posture as he glanced over at you. "And I’m worth it, then?"

You rolled your eyes, but your smile didn’t fade. "Surprisingly, yes."

Fred chuckled again, but the sound was quieter this time. There was a comfortable silence between you, one that felt easy—natural, even. It was in these moments, when the pranks were set aside, that Fred realized just how much he enjoyed your company. You weren’t what he’d expected. You were honest, driven, but not ruthless. You stood up for what you believed in, and apparently, that included him and his ridiculous dreams.

The conversation drifted after that, moving from Quidditch to classes to some gossip about Snape’s latest unfair detention, and Fred found himself talking to you about things he normally didn’t share with people outside his family.

By the time the sun started to set, casting long shadows over the grass, Fred realized he didn’t want the conversation to end. He liked this side of you—the one that wasn’t all Slytherin determination and ambition, but someone who could tease and laugh and encourage him, too.

As you stood up to leave, Fred reached out and lightly grabbed your wrist, just enough to stop you. When you looked down at him, confused, he gave you a crooked grin.

"Hey," he said, his voice a little softer than usual, "Thanks. For believing in the joke shop thing. It means a lot coming from you."

You held his gaze for a moment before nodding. "Anytime, Weasley."

He let go of your wrist, watching as you walked away, his heart doing a little flip in his chest. He didn’t know when it had happened, but somewhere along the way, Fred had stopped seeing you as just a Slytherin. You were more than that. You were you, and that was someone he wanted to keep around.

That evening, as Fred lay in bed staring at the ceiling, George nudged him.

"You’ve been staring at the ceiling for ages. Thinking about a new prank, or is it something else?" George asked, a knowing smirk on his face.

Fred hesitated, then grinned. "Maybe both."

George gave him a look. "Is this about a certain Slytherin?"

Fred shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. "Maybe. they're—" He paused, searching for the right words. "They're not like the others."

George chuckled. "Clearly. You’ve gone and gotten yourself interested."

Fred threw a pillow at his twin, but his mind was still on you—on how you’d looked at him today, how you’d believed in him. Maybe George was right. Maybe Fred was interested.

The chill of autumn had settled into the castle by the time Fred’s feelings for you became undeniable. He’d tried to play it cool—tried to act like it was just fun working together on pranks, just a friendship with a Slytherin he hadn’t expected to like. But as the weeks passed, Fred found himself thinking about you more often than not, and it wasn’t just about jokes or mischief anymore.

He liked how you challenged him, how you made him think, and how you were unflinchingly honest. You didn’t just see the prankster side of Fred; you saw him, his dreams, his frustrations. It was a connection Fred hadn’t expected, but now that it was there, he couldn’t ignore it.

Which is why it stung when he overheard what happened in the dungeons one afternoon.

Fred was passing by the Slytherin common room on his way to Potions when he heard raised voices. Curiosity piqued, he slowed his pace, pausing by the stone corridor to listen.

"Why are you always hanging around with Weasley and his lot?" a familiar, sneering voice spat. It was one of your housemates, a particularly snide sixth-year named Malvin. "You know they’re blood traitors, right? Dirt poor and—"

"Shut up, Malvin," your voice cut through sharply, filled with a kind of venom Fred had never heard from you before.

Fred’s heart stopped. He knew he shouldn’t eavesdrop, but something about the tension in your voice made him stay put, listening.

"Yeah, right," another Slytherin, Bexley, chimed in. "What’s wrong with you? Hanging out with Gryffindors, defending that pathetic family—"

"They’re not pathetic," you snapped, your voice fierce and unwavering. "They’re decent people, which is more than I can say for some of the so-called ‘pureblood elite’ around here."

Malvin snorted. "You’re joking, right? Fred Weasley? He’s a joke. His whole family’s a joke. You’re embarrassing yourself by hanging around with him."

Fred’s stomach twisted at the cruel words, but what hit harder was the silence that followed. He could picture you standing there, tense, eyes flashing. He half-expected you to walk away, to let it go like anyone would when facing off against their own housemates.

But then, your voice cut through the air again, colder than he’d ever heard it.

"If anyone’s embarrassing themselves, it’s you. You think that insulting people makes you better than them? Grow up, Malvin. Fred’s twice the person you’ll ever be."

Fred’s breath caught in his throat.

"Unbelievable," Bexley muttered, sounding disgusted. "Look at you, defending a Weasley. Maybe you should’ve been sorted into Gryffindor after all, since you’re so keen on playing hero."

"Maybe I should have been," you shot back, defiant. "At least Gryffindors know how to treat people with respect."

There was a tense pause before Malvin spoke again, his voice lower, more threatening. "You’ll regret this, you know. People talk. Stick around with the Weasleys long enough, and your own house won’t want anything to do with you."

"Good," you said, your voice unwavering. "Because I don’t want anything to do with people who treat others like rubbish."

Fred’s heart swelled. He didn’t wait any longer. He stepped out from the shadow of the corridor and walked straight into the common room entrance, ignoring the startled looks from the other Slytherins. His eyes were locked on you, standing tall, arms crossed, with a fire in your gaze that made Fred’s chest ache in the best way possible.

"Y/N," Fred said, his voice firm but soft. "You don’t have to do this."

You turned to him, surprised. But then your expression softened, just slightly. "Yes, I do."

Fred stared at you for a moment, his chest tightening with something he couldn’t push down any longer. He didn’t care what anyone said anymore—about him, about his family, about Gryffindor or Slytherin. You had just defended him and his family against your own housemates, knowing full well the backlash you’d get. And that was when it hit him—how much he really, really liked you.

No. How much he was falling for you.

Malvin sneered, stepping forward. "Oh, look, the hero shows up to—"

"Shut it," Fred snapped, cutting him off. His voice had a sharp edge now, something fierce that wasn’t always there. He turned to you, ignoring the others entirely. "You alright?"

You nodded. "Fine. Just dealing with idiots."

Fred grinned, feeling a surge of pride at your bravery. "Well, you do that pretty well."

The Slytherins were still glaring, but Fred didn’t care. His eyes were on you, and in that moment, all he could think about was how much he wanted to tell you—everything.

"Let’s go," Fred said, reaching out his hand.

You hesitated for a second, then placed your hand in his, letting him pull you away from the common room and out into the corridor. Once you were clear of the Slytherin common room, Fred finally stopped, turning to face you fully.

"You didn’t have to defend me like that," Fred said, though his tone was softer now, filled with gratitude. "But… thank you. For standing up for me and my family."

You shrugged, but there was a warmth in your eyes. "It’s nothing. They were out of line. I don’t care what house I’m in—people don’t get to talk about you or your family like that."

Fred smiled, the kind of smile that reached his eyes. His heart was pounding now, but for a different reason. It wasn’t just gratitude he was feeling—it was something bigger. He couldn’t deny it anymore.

"Y/N," Fred began, taking a step closer to you. His voice was quieter now, a little more serious than usual. "I’ve been thinking… about you. About us."

Your eyes widened slightly. "Fred—"

"I like you," Fred blurted out, his cheeks going a bit pink but his grin never faltering. "A lot. You’re not just some prank partner or a mate to hang around with. You’re… you’re incredible. And today, when you stood up for me—" He paused, his grin softening. "It just made me realize I don’t want to waste any more time pretending I don’t feel this way."

You blinked, processing his words, but Fred didn’t give you a chance to reply just yet. He scratched the back of his neck, looking slightly sheepish now.

"So, um… what do you say? Would you want to go out with me? Like, a proper date?" His voice was laced with hope, his usual confidence just slightly shy as he waited for your response.

For a second, you just stared at Fred, your eyes widening slightly in surprise as his words sank in. You hadn’t expected him to ask—not now, not like this—but there it was, hanging in the air between you, as real and clear as anything. His question wasn’t some flippant remark, some casual joke. It was Fred, standing there with his usual crooked grin, but there was something else in his eyes too—something soft, hopeful, and entirely sincere.

And then, slowly, a smile broke across your face—not the usual smirk you gave him when you traded banter, but a real, genuine smile, one that reached your eyes and softened your whole expression. It was the kind of smile that made Fred’s heart stop for a beat, then race twice as fast.

"You know," you said, stepping closer to him, your voice light but full of something warmer, something that made Fred’s pulse quicken, "I was starting to wonder when you’d finally ask."

Fred’s heart skipped a beat, the world around him seeming to still for just a moment. You were close now, so close that he could see the glint of amusement in your eyes, the way your lips curled just slightly at the corners. He’d been teasing, sure, but now that he was looking at you, seeing that smile, that look, he realized that maybe this wasn’t a joke after all. This was real.

"So that’s a yes?" Fred asked, his voice a bit more breathless than usual, though he tried to keep the grin on his face. His heart was pounding now, loud enough that he wondered if you could hear it.

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your expression didn’t fade. In fact, it only deepened, and Fred couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. "Yes, Weasley. That’s a yes."

Fred’s grin widened, a rush of pure joy surging through him so fast he barely had time to think before his arms were around you. He pulled you into a tight hug, lifting you off the ground without a second thought, his heart soaring as your laughter bubbled up, light and easy in his ear. The sound sent a thrill through him, and in that moment, Fred felt like he was on top of the world.

You held on to him, your laughter fading into a breathy chuckle as he spun you once, just enough to make you squeak in surprise before he set you back down. But even as your feet touched the ground again, Fred didn’t let go. His arms stayed wrapped around you, holding you close as if he was afraid to let the moment slip away. His forehead rested gently against yours, and for a moment, everything else faded away—the noise of the castle, the bustle of students in the distance. It was just the two of you, standing there in your own little world.

"You know," Fred said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, "I think this is going to be fun."

You smiled up at him, your eyes sparkling with that familiar mischief he loved so much. But there was something more behind it now, something that made his chest feel impossibly full. "Of course it will be," you replied, your voice as light and teasing as ever, but the words carried a promise. "We’re in this together now."

Fred chuckled, his breath fanning lightly against your skin as he leaned forward, pressing a gentle, teasing kiss to your forehead. It was quick, playful, but there was a tenderness to it that made his heart skip yet again. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his arms still loosely draped around your waist.

"Together, then," he said, his grin returning in full force, the playful edge back in his tone. "Let’s make some trouble, yeah?"

You smirked, that familiar spark of mischief flashing in your eyes, and Fred felt the thrill of it run through him. "Always," you replied, your voice confident, playful—*you*, in every sense of the word.

And in that moment, Fred Weasley knew—*really* knew—that he’d found something special. Something real. There was no more guessing, no more wondering. You weren’t just someone who could pull off a good prank or keep up with his teasing. You were someone who believed in him, who laughed with him, who made him feel like anything was possible. 

And he wasn’t about to let that go. Not for anything.

[discordantwritings]

Taken Back (Crocodile x Reader)

Warnings: NSFW 18+ MDNI, fem afab! Reader (reader is referred to as girl), degradation, oral sex, facefucking, clothed sex/ dry humping, idk what the nice tag for getting off on a shoe is

WC: 1.9k

Summary: Your old boss is out of prison and back in action. You know he doesn’t like loose ends so you make a play to kill him before he can kill you. Things turn out differently than you plan.

Notes: I am not sure if this is what the requester wanted but my mind went to places that I couldn’t stop and I hope they like it!

Tagging: @keiva1000

Sword griped tight you wait for the lackey pirates to pass as you sneak further into Karai Bari island. Sir Crocodile’s wanted poster weighs heavy in your pocket as you mentally run through your plan once again.

Get into his office. Kill him or die in the process. Finally be free one way or the other.

Shitty plan, but it’s the best you’ve got.

Ever since you heard the news that Crocodile had escaped from Impel Down you knew you had to do this. You knew he didn’t like loose ends. You knew him well, he was your old boss after all.

For years you had worked for Baroque Works, a special agent directly under Sir Crocodile’s rule. You would go so far to say you had a decent relationship with him, as decent a relationship as Crocodile could have. You appreciated his efficiency and ruthlessness and he appreciated your obedience and skill.

You were a spy, often away from Alabasta for months at a time, and you had been away when the Straw Hat Pirates had turned the country upside down. When you got back there was nothing left for you, so you had to rebuild your life. It wasn’t easy- but your skills were more than enough to keep you above water.

But then Crocodile broke out.

It was like a knife was hanging over your head held by only a fraying thread. In every dark alley you expect to see him or one of your old coworkers, every night you shove a chair underneath the doorknob so no one can sneak in. Living in fear wasn’t much of a life. So when you caught wind of your old boss’ new hideout you stole yourself a ship and started sailing.

Now you’re here, sneaking through carnival surplus and dodging the gaze of pirate clowns. You’re not sure how exactly Sir Crocodile got in business with Buggy the Clown but you can’t really spare that much thought to that right now. It’s just a fitting backdrop for your quickly declining mental state.

You navigate carefully according to the (thankfully sound) information you bartered for and avoid being spotted as you come up on the door to Sir Crocodile’s office. Instinctually you know it’s his- painted in that signature dark green he loves so much. Sword in one hand, short dagger in the other you seep your haki into the blades. Pitch black weapons ready, you shove open the door and prepare to attack.

Sir Crocodile looks exactly the same. You figured maybe prison would have done some damage to him, but you couldn’t have been more wrong. He was still the same broad, imposing, terrifying man.

A man who was standing in front of his desk facing the door. A man who knew you were coming.

You falter in the door way as he smirks at you. All the adrenaline you were running off of evaporates in an instant as you’re faced with the cruel fact you’d be outsmarted.

You really should have known better.

“It’s been a while.” Sir Crocodile says, absentmindedly polishing his golden hook with a cloth.

“It has.” Is the best response you can come up with.

“You were really thinking of killing me? I really thought you were smarter than that.” The slight disappointment in his voice hurts more than the fact he’s going to kill you.

“I didn’t want to wait around to be killed.” You turn the dagger over in your hand, fighting to keep your willpower strong enough to empower the blade.

“Fair enough.” You feel his eyes slide over your form and you fight not to shrink away. “But what makes you think I want you dead?”

“What?” That wasn’t a question you were ready for.

“I don’t think I stuttered.”

“No- I-“ Your stance shifted, letting your guard down slightly. “I’m a loose end. You don’t like loose ends.”

Silence hangs in the air as he seems to contemplate that answer. “That is true. But why did you never think I’d want you working for me again?”

…

Admittedly, that thought never crossed your mind. You were caught up in the countless ruthless slaughters you had seen at his hand and hook. Never did you think that you could come back, that there was room for you to come back.

And now you’ve probably destroyed that chance.

“I clearly had a lapse in judgement.”

“Clearly.” Sir Crocodile pushes himself off his desk and walks over to you and you drop your now useless blades to your side, willpower having run out long ago. “If it wasn’t me this whole gambit probably would have worked. It was good to know you still had all your connections and skills. And no one noticed you sneaking around.”

“You did teach me well.” You admit as he stalks over to you.

“That’s why I’m not going to kill you.” Crocodile is standing only a foot from you now, grey eyes bearing down on you. “I’m going to take you back.”

A confusing rush of emotions swirl in your head as you process the fact that you’re not actually going to die and actually just got your job back. “Thank you sir.”

“You will have to work very, very hard to make up for this though. You did think about killing me.” He saunters back over to his desk, taking a seat behind it.

“Of course.” Of course you would never expect things to just go back to the way they were.

“Double shifts, and of course every bit of information you gained while I was away.”

“I will compile all that information for you.”

“And I expect you to come up with some other ways to get back on my good side. You’ve always been creative.”

He wasn’t implying anything. But the crazy cocktail of emotions, adrenaline, and honestly the way your mind was always a bit in the gutter had you thinking about less conventional ways to get back on his good side. There had never been anything between you two but you can’t deny that you’ve thought about it- I mean who could blame you? He was strong, commanding, and incredibly handsome. And, while you didn’t want to get overly full of yourself, you swear you’d occasionally feel his gaze on you when you weren’t looking.

If you were wrong your head might go back on the chopping block but if you were right then you’d get back in his good graces pretty damn fast.

Worth a shot.

You walked over to his desk, one hand trailing on the dark wood as you walk behind it. “I was wondering, sir, if there was anything I could do for you right now?”

He looks up at you with a raised eyebrow, studying you before answering. “Depends. What are you thinking?”

Of course he was going to make you say it. You can see in his eyes that he knows what you’re implying. He’s playing with you.

You choose not to say anything else, simply letting your knees hit the ground in front of his slightly parted legs. You don’t move after that, choosing to fold your hands in your lap while you wait for him to give you an order.

“Oh well look at this. Seems you are smart.” He shifts in his seat, legs spreading wider. “C’mere.”

You shuffle closer to him, hands quickly finding his belt. You swear you hear him chuckle but you’re too preoccupied with the large bulge growing in his pants as you unzip them. Reaching under his boxers you pull out his half hard length and your mouth waters.

He’s thick- so much so that you know it’ll be a challenge to wrap your mouth around him. But that fact only spurs you on further as you nuzzle up to his base and press sloppy kisses against it. You feel him harden under you and you flatten your tongue and lick a long stripe up from his base to the tip.

“Stop teasing.” His fingers thread through your hair, gripping hard as he pushes your head closer in warning.

You don’t need to be told twice. Taking his tip into your mouth you swirl your tongue around it a few times before slowly taking him further into your mouth. Crocodile groans in appreciation as you sink down, his cock slipping down into your throat until your nose brushes against his pelvis.

“If I’d of known you were so good on your knees I would have hunted you down the second I got out.” His grip pulls you back ever so slightly just so he can shove you back down again. “We’ll just have to make up for lost time.”

It’s thrilling to let yourself be used like this, the drag of his cock in your throat foreign yet intoxicating. You’re already soaked, shifting unconsciously to try and get some friction to relieve the quickly growing ache. Of course Crocodile notices.

“Are you such a whore that you’re getting off on this?” Your eyes flick up and you see him grinning down at you. “Spread your legs.”

You’re confused but you do as he asks, knees going wide and holding onto his thighs for support. It isn’t until you feel the tip of his expensive shoe between your thighs that it all clicks. You grind down on the hard surface and moan around Crocodile’s cock.

“That’s it.” Crocodile mumbles appreciatively above you.

You let him continue to use you, filthy wet noises filling the room as spit drips down your chin and onto his lap. When he’s controlling your head it’s easy to focus your effort on grinding yourself against his shoe. It’s humiliating, degrading, disgusting, and you love it. Your head swims with lust, captured in the feeling of his cock throbbing in your throat.

You know he’s close when his grip tightens on your hair and his hips buck up every time he shoves your face down. If that wasn’t enough signs, his mouth gets looser, filthy words spilling out.

“Fuck you’re too good at this- tight little throat was made for my cock, huh? It’s like you were meant to take me-“ The pulling of your hair brings tears to your eyes, just on the verge of spilling over. “You’re going to swallow what I give you- take my fucking load-“

You feel his cum hit the back of your throat and you do your best to swallow as you’re still held down. You can only swallow so much before you feel him dripping out the side of your mouth and down your chin. Finally he pulls you off and you gasp for air, face still held up for Crocodile to see. His hook comes up to your face and collects the spit and cum on your chin. He presses the cold metal up to your mouth and you lick it up without a thought, earning a groan from Crocodile.

“Such a good girl.” You’re rewarded with him pressing his shoe up to your clit. “Be a good little whore and get off on my shoe.”

It doesn’t take long now that he’s helping, forced to look in his eyes as you moan and shudder, coming undone in a way you never thought you could. As you come down he lets you go and your head falls down to his lap, head light from your orgasm.

“You have certainly proven yourself.” You feel the hook lightly brush through your hair. “And now I’ll never let you go.”

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

Aug 16th

~*~

1. i hope it's okay to resend an ask from 3 years ago? 😅

(it's #2 on the first 'fics still missing'. there's a rec however i think that fic/the relevant scene was posted AFTER i sent the ask on may 2021 so it's probably not it, and i do not think it's 300k 😲 long!)

the only thing i still remember is that wen qing does a surgery to bring back wei wuxian's core, and the new core is from a wen prisoner who is set to be executed. the prisoner turns out to be wen yuan's bio dad, and he's willing.

i think there's another core surgery but as punishment? i may be mixing up fics since it's been a long time.

many thanks!!! @danmeireader

FOUND? Until The End by abCEE (M, 365k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, war changes people, resulting to OOC, no pinning, Established Relationship, Mpreg, Good Uncle LQR, a little grey LWJ, a bit of JC bashing from LWJ, BAMF JYL, 16 years of yearning, mainly CQL verse but has scenes from the novel as well, LSZ is WangXian’s Child, WWX Has a New Golden Core, Canon Rewrite, Happy Ending, Fix-It of Sorts) except that in that, Yuan is WWX and LWJ bio son but there is another child whose father gives WWX his core. Might be worth checking it out as even if it's not the right one it's a good story

~*~

2. Hello! I am searching for one fic i read it was WIP i guess, in one particular scene there was sparing practice in cloud recesses school days, where someone tries to stab WWX but Jin Zixuan takes the blow near heart.. when Wen Qing with other healers arrive they find WWX's blood is compatible with Jin Zixuan that's how they become sworn brother with Nei Huisang too. idk but there was some other invention to secure swon brotherhood shared with JZX in front of JGS

FOUND? sounds exactly like a scene from 🔒 The Second Hand Unwinds by trulywicked (E, 64k, WangXian, JYL/JZX, WIP, Time Travel Fix-It, Not JC Friendly, Not Yunmeng Jiang Sect Friendly, Not Jiāng Family Friendly, Not YZY Friendly, Time Travelling LWJ, Protective LWJ, Fluff, Minor Angst, Minor Character Death, JGS is his own warning, Wooing, LWJ is romantic af, Inventor WWX, Genius WWX, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Protective Gusu Lan Sect, Supportive LXC, Good Uncle LQR, WWX Protection Squad)

~*~

3. Hello!

I'm looking for a fic where wwx became jyl's personal healer and where he meets lwj at her wedding with lan xichen, when lwj accidently gets an approdisiac meant for the groom (to cause an incident???), so wwx has to help him out in his professional role and of course to save his shijie's wedding.

Thsnk you in advance! @janiquebeingcreative

FOUND! trust your fingertips by plonk (Not Rated, 15k, WangXian, Aphrodisiacs, Medical Kink, Canon Era, Different First Meeting)

~*~

4. hi! i hope you're doing well. im trying to find an ongoing fic where wwx leaves lotus pier way before the wen decides to act up. he lives with the wen sibs far away from the cultivation world but comes back eventually to help the sects to defeat the wen. the last time I saw it it had been months from the last update.

FOUND! the sea meets the moon-blanched land by rkivees (G, 44k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, YLLZ WWX, Canon-Typical Violence, Developing Relationship, Childhood Trauma, Sect Leader WWX, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ, BAMF WQ, Good Parent LQR, First Love, Love Confessions, minor jiang sibs appearance, Mentioned LXC, Past Child Abuse, Drunken Shenanigans, Past Violence, No Golden Core Transfer, Non-Linear Narrative) I think 4 on the fic finder post is the sea meets the moon-blanched land by rkivees but not sure since it was updated recently.

~*~

5. I am looking for a fic it is wangxian a

Arranged marriage this what a remember for the plot that wei Ying is Outcasted by the lan elders because madam yu did give the gift tha the send a copy of the rules and the jaed token @androgynousbelievergarden

FOUND! Finding a Home by Duochanfan (T, 8k, WangXian, Arranged Marriage, Light Angst)

NOT FOUND! Concord by Deastar (T, 41k, WangXian, Arranged Marriage, Gūsū Lán Sect Rules, Depression, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending)

~*~

6. Hello! For fic finder, please! I am looking for a fic where instead of giving JC his own core, WWX knocks out a random Wen soldier and they use that guy’s core for the transfer. I think that the core was weak and throughout the remainder of the story JC was angry that his new core from “Baoshan Sanren” was so weak and puny. Does this sound familiar? Thank you!

FOUND? Never Again by Hauntcats (T, 67k, WWX & WN & WQ, JC & WWX, wangxian, graphic depictions of violence, major character death, Canon Divergence, Angst, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, Time Travel Fix-It, Not JC Friendly, Dark, BAMF WWX, mentions of abuse, Not Everyone Dies au, XY doesn’t have a happy ending) It has them taking Wen Chao's core over a random soldier's but the rest fits

~*~

7. Hi, thank you so much for all your hard work!!

I'm looking for two fics:

A) I think this one might have appeared in your blog and that's how I learned about it the first time. Modern AU Wangxian where they're retired/considering retiring figure skaters, and the fic is a series of them trying to have sex but something going wrong. At the end LWJ breaks/hurts his ankle really badly on the way to a cabin to have sex in Olympics gear, and then they get married.

B) WWX comes back in a random cultivator's body while LWJ is recovering from the discipline whip, and he sneaks into the Cloud Recesses to learn about A-Yuan. I think the cultivator gave his body up to WWX to punish him, and the curse mark on his arm becomes activated when he's happy, and it activates so badly it nearly cuts his arm off.

Thank you!

~*~

8. Hello! For the next Fic Finder, I'm looking for a modern AU, rated either Mature or Explicit, where Wei Ying and Lan Zhan end up stranded in a ski resort. It's just them, no one else. They end up getting together by the end of the story. I cannot recall if one person was injured, I think the answer is no but I could be wrong! Thank you!

FOUND! Certain Obscure Things by hkafterdark (E, 32k, wangxian, Snowed In, Modern AU, First Time, and there was only one bed, Cabin Fic, Drinking, canon typical kink)

~*~

9. hii please could anyone help me find this fic where wwx and lwj are both genderbent and theyre both authors at a writers conference thats kinda all i remember

FOUND? Happy for Now by ScarlettStorm (E, 80k, WangXian, Modern, Rule 63, Cisswap, wlw wangxian, There Was Only One Bed, but that's not actually where the tension lies, romance author au, Adhd WWX, service top LWJ, two gay disasters, Pining, Smut, Comedy, Minor Angst, major shenanigans, whoops your hotel booking was a scam?, That's A Shame, guess we better share, there are no other options, horny yearning, furtive masturbation, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Sex Toys, Chekhov's sex bag, everybody's parents live, except for QHJ but we don't care about him, mama lan had cancer but she's okay now)

~*~

10. Fic finder, could you help me find the delightfully sexy A/B/O roleplay fic? Our guys are in the irl present day, and LZ finds out WY has been reading A/B/O stuff, and they roleplay it. In the finale, they have drunk sex, and WY cums so hard he passes out, and LZ is a weepy mess about it.

FOUND? eating sugar out of your hand by azuresummer (E, 20k, wangxian, Modern, ABO roleplay, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Dom/sub, Dominant LWJ, Submissive WWX, Established Relationship, Roleplay, Consensual Non-Consent, Under-negotiated Kink, degradation kink, Praise Kink, Light Bondage, Size Kink, Size Difference, Spit Kink, Hair-pulling, Daddy Kink, Slight Crossdressing, Lingerie, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Feminizing Language, Dirty Talk, Overstimulation, Prostate Milking, slight breathplay, Facials, Snowballing, Finger Sucking, Panty Kink, Spanking, Crying, Mentions of Face-Slapping, Drunk Sex, Mating Cycles/In Heat, LWJ & WWX Have a Breeding Kink, PWP, roleplay as a love language)

~*~

11. Heyyyy do you guys remember that one fic where jc kept wy in a basement kinda situation? Uk he held him captive while the world thought wwx is dead and I'm pretty very sure there was a forced crossdressing situation with abuse too? This fic has been mentioned many times in itmf posts or fic finders too.. I don't remember it's name, does my description ring a bell? @constellationdks

FOUND! on restitution by glitteringmoonlight (M, 98k, LSZ & WWX, WWX & JL, wangxian, dark JC, not JC friendly, captivity, non-graphic torture, angst w/ happy ending)

~*~

12. Hello,

I'm looking for a fic that I read ages ago, but don't remember what website it was on. It had both wangxian and xicheng in it. So Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen reached immortality and now they are living in present time where everyone has reincarnated. Lan Wangji has custody of Lan Sizhui and I think Lan Jingyi as well but not sure about the latter part. Both of them attend high school where Wei Wuxian is a teacher (I think he just transferred to the school but am not sure). Jin Ling also attends school with them. Jiang Cheng takes care of him and he is a policeman. He does not talk to Wei Wuxian as he blames him for their sister death/bad medical state. I don't remember exactly which one it was. I also remember that Nie Mingjue is Jiang Cheng boss, Nie Huisang and Jing Guangyao are in the actor/entertainment business and Wen Ruohan is a villain in there @kyjrd

FOUND? monotone by seredemia which the author put on drive instead of ao3

~*~

13. Hello! I'm looking for match-making fic where Jin Zixuan (tired of wwx constantly interrupting family time with his wife and newly born son) decides the best way to get him out of the way is to matchmake him with someone. I think he tries Nie Mingjue mainly, because they have similar interests, etc.

Jiang Cheng also gets roped in, but he thinks Jin Zixuan is nuts the whole time. NMJ thinks Wei wuxian is definitely flirting with him at some point because his muscles get complimented? Lan Xichen has to reassure him that "no, he is just like that".

It's a comedy of errors mainly, because LWJ and WWX definitely have something going on between them, and it ends with them running off with horses to elope into the sunset or smth. Jiang Yanli doesn't know her husband's matchmaking scheme, but she does know about wwx and lwj and helps them elope at the end.

Pretty sure it was a short fic, ignores canon and occurs in a what-if scenario where the whole burial mounds situation didn't happen.

I'd be very grateful of you could help me find this! Thank you 😊 @indelibleme

FOUND! Marital Prospects by Vamillepudding (G, 18k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Everybody Lives, Romantic Comedy, Misunderstandings, LWJ Needs a Hug)

~*~

14. I was reading a fic but I lost it. It was where wwx was frozen for I don't know how many years and they think. I think it was the lans? I think lwj was a doctor or archaeologist? A-yuan was his son there they were. There was a scene from wwx taking apart a mechanical pencil/pen and putting it back together and lwj is surprised by it. Lqr? He thinks wwx is not human lwj thinks otherwise and they locked him in a room @quwieiidkd

FOUND? 🧡 The Shade of Old Trees by Kryal (T, 363k, WangXian, Ridiculously Long Notes, History, Canon Divergence, Modern AU, Slow Burn, Worldbuilding, Slow Life, Action/Adventure, Magic Returns, BAMF WWX)

~*~

15. I'm looking for a fic that canon era WWX had ended up accidentally raising up a bunch of dinosaurs. The main thing I remember is that JC was talking with him about it and they were considering them different kinds of mythical creatures(I remember qilin and Fenghuang especially.) Though anything dinosaur and untamed is awesome. @bcaugust

FOUND? Fenghuan and Qilin by Ibijau (T, 544, JC & WWX, Dinosaurs, Demonic cultivation, undead dinosaurs, mdzs with dinosaurs)

~*~

16. Hiya, I'm wracking my brains trying tonfind a fic. The only part I really remember is that to rebuild their library's collection, Gusu Lan reached out to other sects, asking for texts to copy. I think the Jiang weren't originally for it (whether it was Jiang Cheng or Madam Yu and Jiang Fengmian vetoing it I can't remember), but Wei Wuxian tried to help. I think maybe Lan Wangji paid a visit to Lotus Pier, but again, I'm not sure.

~*~

17. Hello! I am looking for a specific fic that I have lost. It was a canon-divergent fic. In it Wei Wuxian ties decorative knots as something to keep his hands occupied while his mind runs. I think it was set primarily during the Yiling settlement days, because I remember he had a room/small house/workspace which had knots hung all over the walls. Although, my brain is also saying that this could have been a “WWX grows up on Baoshan Sanren’s mountain” au and his room could have been there. The knots are the unique detail I remember. Any clue? Thank you!

FOUND? inevitable everything by isabilightwood (E, 193k, WangXian, WQ/MM, JYL/JZX, BSSR/LY, Canon Divergence, YLLZ WWX, but WWX is BSSR's disciple/adoptive grandson too, the cultivation sects think this is a, War Prize AU, it's actually self-arranged marriage, Arranged Marriage, yin iron shenanigans, LWJ Has Friends, Mutual Pining, Pining while fucking, LWJ Has a YLLZ Kink, Switch WangXian, BDSM, Submissive LWJ, Dominant WWX, Angst with a Happy Ending, magical illness of a side character (who will get better), Rope Bondage, Impact Play, Rimming, Bottom LWJ, Temperature Play, Face-Fucking, Breathplay, (talisman-based breathplay to be specific), Cock Warming, Public Scene, no one gets naked in public this is the sense of WWX invents the, Remote Controlled Vibrator, Semi-Public Sex, Outdoor Sex, Blindfolds, one qingmian smut scene with oral and fingering, Minor Character Death, All Sex Scenes Are Skippable!) It is a Baoshan Sanren raises WWX and the knotwork is highlighted several times in the story, starting in chapter 2.

~*~

18. ff request! can't remember much, other than the fact that wwx creates a justice array, which they use to question lan elders, some jins, & other sect leaders to successfully reveal their crimes of colluding w the jins. wonder if this rings a bell? thanks! @potatokunst

FOUND! IF by Remma3760 (Not Rated, 94k, WangXian, QingJue, Aftermath of Violence, Canon Divergence, Everybody Lives, Fix-It of Sorts, BAMF LWJ, Golden Core Reveal)

~*~

19. Good morning! I am looking for a fic where Wei Wuxian was captured by the Jin and given a false trial and he was punished by being hunted. He was set loose into the land surrounding Koi Tower and all the Jin disciples hunted him, but he managed to survive, decimate all the Jin disciples, and escape. I think it was a very short fic, but was possibly one piece in a longer series. Would love to read this again, thank you!

FOUND? the wild hunt series by antebunny (G, 18k, WangXian, JYL & JL, WWX & JL, WWX & JC, LXC & LWJ, Canon Divergence, Angst, Non-Linear Narrative, Canon-Typical Violence, JL and his many many uncles, JGY is morally ambiguous but okay, BAMF WWX, WWX is innocent of literally everything for plot purposes, JYL Lives, Not Everyone Dies, Hopeful Ending, Fix-It of Sorts, what is fanfiction but 10k of reunions, Found Family, Fluff, they're soft your honor, Domestic Fluff, Happy Ending)

FOUND? foliage by antebunny (G, 7k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Angst, Non-Linear Narrative, Canon-Typical Violence, JL and his many many uncles, jgy is morally ambiguous but okay, BAMF WWX, wwx is innocent of literally everything, for plot purposes, JYL Lives, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Hopeful Ending)

~*~

20. Hi! This is fic finder. I dont remember much. It set in sunshot campaign. When they want to storm Nightless city, Wen Ning volunter to open the underground passage. It need the wen blood. I think the door has a family tree on it? Thats all i can remember @idontknowwhattowriteforusername

FOUND! ❤️ Gentians in bloom by teawater (M, 251k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, AU after cold spring, Political Marriage, Dysfunctional Family, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, LQR bashing (not really), POV Multiple, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Eventual Happy Ending, BAMF WWX, JC is actually a lot better than canon, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, YZY bashing (again not completely))

~*~

21. Hey! I saw this prompt on AO3 searching for the ff. "Everyone is arriving to Gusu Lan to study and while they were introducing themselves and their clan. The Wen clan interrupt the Jiang clan (as usual) and Wei Ying spoke out and all of sudden bunnies were entering the class when Wei Ying said something all the bunnies transformed into human yelling, “yes, madam Lan”. Everyone is shock." @vbhardwaj-reads

~*~

[rosesbxrry]

Rendezvous

Pairing: Rugby Boyfriend! Jay X Cheerleader Fem! Reader

Genre: Smut🔞 (Minors DNI), secret relationship✌️

Warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it up before you tap it), Dom Jay, creampie, voyeurism (watching each other masturbate), so much mention of alcohol drinking, fingering, dirty talking, making out, riding, praising, mention of other sexual act done by them. Hopefully I didn’t miss out anything else.

Summary: Your secret relationship with Jay is torturous to say the least, no thanks to the strained relationship between the cheerleading and rugby teams. Now with tournament season coming up and Jay being busy with training, you and he meet up for a secret rendezvous at a frat party after not seeing each other for two weeks, taking advantage of the situation where you both don’t have to worry about the peering eyes of your teammates. 

Main masterlist

Word count: 4,188 words

a/n: I don’t know how I ended up finishing this Jay fic first out of all the wips I have, and I still need to complete the nsfw links for him as well 🙃🙃 I guess rejoice to Jay stans, this one is for you 🫶🫶

You weren’t going to lie; the whole cheerleading thing was getting on your nerves, mainly because you could list all the drawbacks at the top of your head. 

Firstly, you bet you could find longer skirts that covered your ass better than whatever you wore they called uniforms. Secondly, no matter how bad the weather was, you had to stay on the field as long as the players were still playing, even if your pom poms were soaking wet from the rain. Thirdly, the amount of spare time you had to sacrifice to train between classes and assignments made you contemplate whether everything was worth the time and energy. 

How did you get into this position you may ask? Well, your friend Gaeul thought it was really funny to sign your name in the recruitment paper, dragging you along into her crusade of becoming the queen bee of the campus, even though she could very much have achieved that without you.

But the last drawback was the final nail to the coffin; it was embedded into the heads of all the new first-year students by the cheerleading captain that relationships with the rugby players were forbidden. Be sure to cooperate with that one rule and avoid getting kicked out of the team immediately.

Honestly, you weren’t sure how the feud between the rugby and cheerleading teams even happened in the first place. Your captain said that it goes way back, passing through alums, but you weren’t interested in history to remember the rest.

This drawback wouldn’t have affected you if only it weren't for Park Jongseong coming into the picture.

The secretive romance between you and him has been carefully built up behind the scenes, mostly because the amount of mutual friends you’ve shared with him ensues the moment you wake up naked in bed beside you after a very drunk party. 

Dealing with overly chatty teammates every day did have its perks, and based on what you can recall, it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for the rugby players and cheerleaders to hook up with one another in silent compliance; whatever happens in bed, remains in bed. The players were informed of the same rule by their own captain about the rule which only further confirms the weird rivalry between the two teams. 

Having that little reassurance, you were sure the one-night stand was a one-off thing, but it seemed Jay wasn’t ready to let go of you yet. 

Months of his flirtatious advances led to the classified yet cliche friends-with-benefits relationship you had established with him. And sex with Park Jongseong was inhumanely insane, like out of this world fucking good that it hurts to even think of how his hips move in and out of you.

You could list all the places you’ve had sex with him; in a frat party, in an empty lecture hall— hell, you’ve even gone as far as fucking in the shower stall with him in the male’s locker room, only because you had waited for him when the players had an extended practice from the coach.

The cocky, rough sex in his car after his team won a match? That was just the cherry on top. 

All because you two couldn’t find a meeting place without everyone else's peering eyes, making it harder to hook up. 

At first, you were sure you had only entertained him because of the banging part but my god, the number of butterflies in your stomach every time he winked in your direction in the field, or when you were sick, he had discreetly visited your dorm through your window in the middle of the night to see if you were okay. 

Falling in love wasn't on your agenda, and as much as you hate the cheerleading club, you weren’t looking for trouble, yet he was exactly one. 

When the feelings were growing more than just sexual intimacy, the emotions took over. He kissed you passionately on the lips that it wasn't humanly possible for someone to show love through action alone, but this was Jay we’re talking about; he was able to make the impossible possible. 

With that remark, you found yourself making love with him that night, and the boyfriend-girlfriend relationship between you two was kept under public scrutiny, even with your teammates and friends. 

Or so you thought. 

“I think I kinda know who Jay's mysterious girlfriend is.” 

A chorus of hard coughing emitted from your throat when you choked on your drink, causing Gauel to look at you worryingly. The loud bass of the frat party almost swallowed her voice down. 

“You okay, Y/N?” 

You wave her off, closing your mouth to control the fits. “I’m— I’m fine. Who is it? I mean, who’s Jay’s girlfriend?” You nonchalantly ask, but the panic clawing in your chest starts to hurt. 

She gave you a once-over before replying. “Yeonjin from the drama club. Apparently, she used to pin him for months now. The other cheerleaders kinda conspiracies that it might be her.” 

Okay, you always hear gossip between your teammates, but why is this the first time you’ve heard it? 

Yes, you both agreed it was a good charade to tell people— talking about your significant other like separate entities as if you weren’t dating each other. A reasonable excuse for many advances and open invitations that includes your friend’s antics. 

However, you were starting to regret doing it because you have a feeling that your teammates aren’t the only people with a blabbermouth. If not, there wouldn’t be a hunt for Jay Park’s alleged girlfriend among the student body. 

You sighed, moving deeper into the foyer to give way to the drunk students walking down the stairs. “We should stop snooping around like this. There’s a reason why he wants to keep his girlfriend a secret in the first place.” 

You gave her a pointed look before continuing. “Such as from people like you.” 

“Come on, Y/N!” Gaeul exasperated, leaning in to give you a lethal combo of puppy eyes and pouty lips that you know so well. “Aren’t you at least a teensy weensy curious about who she is?” 

“No.” You deadpanned, using your index finger to poke at her forehead, successfully pushing her away from your personal space. “What I’m interested in is getting more alcohol so I won’t hear whatever nonsense you’re spouting next.” 

Gauel frowned. “You suck.” 

You snort, raising your red cup at her mockingly as you head towards the kitchen. It was a much less crowded area. You could spot slightly more sober students chatting away while mixing a concoction of mocktails to dare each other to chug. After pouring yourself a cup of soda to clear your head, you lean against the cabinet, deep in thought. 

The sound of music and revelry blast through the kitchen when the door opens, followed by its absence when the person steps into the room. 

You kept glancing at the new presence through your lashes. A sharp tanned jawline, slick back raven hair and clothes fitting him deliciously well that got you biting on your lower lip. When he looks around and catches your figure, his eyes glint in pleasure with a small smirk. 

“Hey.” He greeted flirtatiously once he was close. 

“I have a boyfriend.” You impassively respond against the cup's rim without sparing him a glance. 

His chuckle was deep, almost tugging at your heartstrings. “Must be a stupid boyfriend for leaving his beautiful girlfriend alone.” He leaned against the cabinet adjacent to you, placing his red cup on the marbled surface. 

“You have no idea,” You roll your eyes, crossing your arms around your chest. “He hasn’t taken me out on dates for weeks. Too preoccupied with the other love of his life.”

You baited back, accentuating the last few words to insinuate one particular sport he played. The grip on your cup tightens when he pushes himself off, moving close to tower over your height. 

“Then what does he have to do to make it up to you?” He whispered curiously, peering down and boring his dark eyes with yours until you couldn’t break the trance he had on you. 

When he places both hands on the surface behind you, caging you in only his addicting scent and his face so close that it becomes hard to breathe, you become overly conscious that the students in the room would notice the both of you.  

The proximity of the sight would paint the whole picture perfectly.

“D-Don’t…..” You warned meekly, but your mouth went numb when he leaned so close that if he moved even an inch more, your lips would collide and erupt into flames from the dormant amber. The alcohol in your veins told you to kiss him, but your head was actively fighting to prevent that. 

He raised an eyebrow. “Does he have to be on his knees?” Your eyes followed how he sensually wet his lower lip with his tongue. Your heart was beating against your ribcage at the sight, biting the inside of your cheeks.

He tilted his head to the side, his breath fanning the high points of your cheeks. “Looking up at you while his mouth works between those trembling legs?” 

Shit, shit, shit— 

“Jay, not here." You place a palm against his chest to retaliate, finding the strength to lower your face to the ground. "Please.” You added with a shaky voice, swallowing down the lump of saliva with your eyes closed. 

There was a slight stillness and tension in the air before you heard the creaking noise of the cabinet above you.

“Relax, Y/N.” He reassures you softly. The weight of his proximity dissipates, and you finally breathe a breath of relief. He moves away to stand in front of you with a bottle of alcohol. 

“Just getting something above you.” He winks and breaks into a grin when you give him an annoyed frown.

Of course, he’ll use every opportunity to tease the shit out of you, but the beating of your heart never ceases, even after his little farce riles you up. You were glad that the dimmed lights hid the flush on your cheeks. 

“Asshole.” You muttered spitefully behind a hand.

He poured the liquid into his cup before filling up yours as well. He chose to ignore you cursing at him with a little smile. 

“If you ever find yourself getting bored while waiting for your boyfriend tonight,” He says, slowly backing away while still facing you. “You’ll know where to find me.” He gave you a quick once over before trudging away into the party. 

With him no longer here, you feel the emptiness you felt for the last two weeks without him sinking in. 

You turned to the left and saw the group of students still preoccupied with their recreational stuff, the amount of alcohol making them more delirious and loud. Good, you thought before grabbing the drink to go and search for your friend— waiting for the time to pass until the whole party was intoxicated. 

When the humidity of the place starts to smell like liquor and the students begin to lose themselves in the music in the dead of night, you carefully make your way up to the second floor. You’ve sneaked here many times before, knowing where each door leads. 

You’ve made sure to control how much you drank but can’t help feeling tipsy with Gaeul constantly dragging you for shots of vodka. Opening the door to a familiar bedroom makes you feel more agitated and nervous. 

Jay’s taste in decoration was the definition of suave; the room was polished and slick, much like its owner. You remember the first time he tangled you in his bed sheets or when you spent hours making out on his black leather sofa— the one he was sitting on right now.

“I take it that your boyfriend ditched you?” Jay calls out. 

He sat casually spread on the seat with his jacket thrown over the channel back. The loose t-shirt he wore hung over his board body, and the same red cup in the kitchen was placed on the coffee table. Classic Jay— he was waiting for you to come to him. 

“You should really stop with the act.” You replied, climbing to sit on his lap and straddling your legs on either side. 

Jay’s face twists into content, welcoming you to him by circling his hands around your waist. “Makes me feel like I’m really cheating on you right now.” You pouted, letting your fingers trace his exposed neck to his visible collarbone.

His hands cup your face, bringing you down until your forehead touches. He smelled compulsively musky with a hint of pungent booze at the end. 

“Sorry, love.” He whispered sweetly, but his eyes were filled with dark flickers. “I can’t help it when you look so damn cute when you’re flustered.” You wrap your hands around his neck. 

“Fucking tease.” You whispered back. He smiled effortlessly. 

“A tease only for you.” 

You could feel the serotonin kicking the moment he captured your lips. He felt slightly warm, tilting your head to the side to deepen the kiss. Your mouth dances with him in unison; the initial passion turns into obsession when the both of you realize how much you missed the taste of each other’s lips. 

His hand creeps up past your shirt, groping the sensitive skin of your sides. It made you moan softly in his mouth, allowing him to slip his tongue into you. You dug deeper into his lap, fingers gripping the raven locks of his hair, feeling absolutely drunk in his arms. 

The wet sound of saliva echoed throughout the room— two mouths continued to bite, suck, nibble and pant against one another. Your hips moved on their own, slowly rocking your clothed core on his bulge. The tight confinement of your bra came loose, falling to the floor before feeling his fingers pinching your hardened nipples.  

It was getting hot, and you were breathless when he broke the wet kiss. He was staring at you with hooded eyes as he continued to grope your breast underneath your shirt. 

“I fucking miss you so much.” He confessed, moving to attack your neck with wonton kisses. You hold him tighter by the hair, pulling your head back to give him more space. “You’re always on my mind. Your smile, your voice, your body. You’re driving me crazy every second, my love.” 

You whimpered, feeling him growing harder as he professed his undying agony for the past two weeks. He moves down to place his hands on your ass, encouraging you to keep humping on his hard-on while he licks your lower jawline. 

“Miss you too, baby.” You press your lips close to his ears, purposely moaning lewdly for only him to hear. “I’m always thinking about you, while I’m eating, while I’m in class, while I’m in my—“ 

You paused. “—while I’m in my bed at night.” 

The sentence came out more sensually than you meant, causing Jay to pull away to look at you. He saw the bashfulness in your expression before he morphed into realization at the innuendo of your words. 

“Did you touch yourself?”

When you didn’t answer him, he took that as confirmation. He inhales a sharp breath, and you can feel his fingers digging into your bare ass underneath your skirt, causing you to gasp and look at him. His jaw was slack, and his eyes were swimming with desire yet curious at the new revelation. 

“Show me.”

It wasn’t a request but a demand— a demand you couldn't refuse when he looked at you like a starved man. So you move out of his lap, sitting on the coffee table while facing him, removing your shirt to let your boobs bounce out. 

Fondling your breasts, you let out a whiny moan when you roll your puffy nipples with your thumb, the way you always do while you masturbate to the thought of him. It didn’t help that your mounds were already sore to the touch at his ministrations a second ago. 

Jay was really enjoying the sight, removing his shirt while keeping his eyes on you. 

His body was carved like a Greek god— beautiful taunt muscles at every region with a sun-kissed glow; watching his biceps flex as he loosened his belt and pulled his pants down. 

“I know you touch yourself more than that.” He urged from his seat, palming himself through his briefs. “Show me how you play with that pretty pussy for me.” 

His voice was like a spell— coaxing you to remove your skirt and peel your soaked panties off. Placing your feet on the table’s surface, you spread your legs to expose every inch of your pussy for only his eyes to feast. You can’t help but whimper at how he was eye fucking your entirety. 

Pushing two fingers into your mouth, you coat your fingers with saliva before slipping them between your thighs. You were drenched— every slip of your fingers between your folds spilled more juices that puddled on the crack of your ass. 

“That’s it, fuckin’ beautiful.” His muttered praises only made you moan louder, peeking through heavy eyelids as you watched him jerk his big cock to the rhythm of your fingers while the other rested at the back of his head. 

You open your legs wider, pushing two fingers into your entrance, absolutely enamoured by the feeling of him watching you finger yourself that’s making your body burn into a pile of ashes. It was not easy on him either— watching you pleasure yourself got him lightheaded and head oozing with precum. 

“Is that how you fuck that pretty pussy with your fingers, hmm? Stretching that perfect hole wide like how I would with my cock?”

“Jongseong.” You crooned desperately, falling to rest your back on the table. Your thumb found its place on your clit, rubbing circles against the bundle of nerves until your hips were bucking the air, inwardly screaming at the blinding pleasure. 

“Fuck.” He cooed, wincing as he thumbed his sensitive head. “Look at you playing with your clit. So fucking sexy. That’s how you always feel, baby, so soft and sensitive on my fingers.” 

Jay’s filthy words spurred you on, plunging your fingers until they reached the spongy spot deep within, your back arching at the pleasure of the simple movement. But it wasn’t enough; the knot in your stomach would not come undone— the only thing that could quell your thirst was him. 

You craved his cock, needing it to split you open until you forgot your name.

“Jay, it's not enough.” You begged, sitting up with every strength you had. “I need you inside of me, please.” 

He sensed your hunger, your anguish— your desperation, and didn’t spare a second to open his arms to you. 

“Come here.”  

You immediately jump to straddle his lap, trembling hands holding onto his shoulders for leverage as you grip the base of his cock to align it with your entrance. Jay hissed at your touch, hands found purchase on your sides to support your weight. 

“Hey, hey, hey.” Jay gently whispered, noticing how you impatiently tried to nudge the tip of his cock into your hole with frustration. “Slow down, love. I’m not going anywhere.” He cradles your cheek with both hands to pull you closer to his face, smiling softly once you look back at him. 

“Relax and don’t hurt yourself, okay? I can wait for you forever like this.” He pushed back your hair to mouth kisses just under your ear, causing your muscle to ease up at his touch, dissipating some of the eagerness that clouded your sanity. 

Taking a deep breath, you probe his tip to your hole and slowly sink his length with your eyes closed. 

“That’s it, that’s my good girl.”

The way he purred, those words caused you to claw at his shoulders, his girth burning your walls so deliciously that you can’t help but clench around it. He massage your ass, letting you bottom down until you sit on his lap. 

“Ah god, Jongseong, you feel so amazing.” You gritted out, moaning rapturously at how full you felt with his cock, feeling the size and length of it moulding your womb. 

“My good girl, taking my cock so perfectly.” He thrusts up, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Your fingers curled into his messy locks to steady yourself, bouncing back to the movement of his hips.

Fuck, the way his cock dragged against your velvet walls, pressing on the deepest spot that brought you solace repeatedly— you were practically melting in his arms. 

Jay’s groans vibrate against your neck, feeling you clench and unclench around his length erratically. You were throbbing endlessly until all he could fathom was your scent and your sweet moans that consumed him with the desire to fuck you senseless.  

“You’re mine.” He breathed out, lunging a hard thrust that got you screaming. He slaps your ass, digging his teeth at the base of your neck, loving how you clung to him like he was your deity. He rutted into you, cock never slipping out, not even an inch.

The sound of skin slapping overthrew the music coming from the party downstairs. 

He growled. “All fucking mine.”

“A-ah, I’m all yours.” You swallowed, pressing your lips against his ear, lapping at the outer shell with want. “My mind, my body, my pussy— I belong only to you.” 

You have awakened the carnal urge he had suppressed for so long, making him stir into a frenzy, bringing you up and slamming you down on his cock so that all you could do was succumb to your orgasm. 

You could feel the knot in your tummy come undone, bathing you in the familiar warmth you longed for. Jay kissed your lips deeply, grinding a few more times before he too came with a heavy grunt, filling you up raw with ropes of hot cum.

You were blinded with pleasure, your vision slowly giving out, and all you could feel was the force of each other’s release. 

At that moment, you prayed to whoever above to promise you that heaven would feel as good as this.  

Once the air starts to clear up and Jay finished riding you out of your orgasm, he pulls his cock out of your spent pussy, his release dripping down your inner thigh while you lay limp in his arm. You could hear the heavy panting from both sides; exhaustion finally computed in your mind. 

He started to make motions to move you into a more comfortable position to clean you up. Your heart swelled with butterflies, reminding yourself why you had fallen for him in the first place. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, resting your forehead against his. “Later,” You persuade softly, inevitably stopping him from moving. “I want you to hold me closely.” 

“Okay.” He sighed, staring deep into your eyes.

It was lethal to your heart— how you could see the entire galaxy shining in the specks of his gaze. He smooths your back with the palms of his hands, lovingly pecking at the corner of your mouth. 

Your bodies fit into the compact confinements of the sofa, legs stretched out to tangle with each other. The side of your face rested on his arms, hugging him close until your bare skin touched. His other arm was draped around your waist, softly tracing the skin at the bottom of your spine. 

You're not sure how long you were staring at each other before he opened his mouth to mutter something in the embrace.

“You’re beautiful.” 

You giggled, shaking your head. “You’re more beautiful.” 

He burst into a laugh, eyes forming breathtaking crescent shapes, the afterglow of sex making him glimmer like the sun. The laughter soon quiets down, the soft sound of the bass downstairs filling the room. 

He looks at you once more, but the frown on his face catches you off guard. 

“I’m sorry I can’t spend more time with you.” He said. You recognize the guilt in his voice, pulling him closer to your body. “Just that the pressure from the coach and with all the other members being on edge with the final tournament…..”

You kiss his chest, feeling him sigh with relish at your lips on his skin. “It’s fine Jay, the last thing I want you to worry about is me. Focus on playing your best, and I’ll be there cheering once you win.”

He pushes back a strand of hair behind your ear, chuckling at your words of confidence.

“I promised to make it up to you.” His ardent oath caused you to snuggle into his chest, feeling him reciprocate your hug by placing his chin on the crown of your head. 

You mumbled close to his beating heart.

“Don't worry, I can wait for you forever like this.”

Permanent Taglist: open/ take this form to be added

@forjongseong @skzenhalove @duolingofanaccount @sunnysunnysunnysunshine @sunnyjayjays @archangelaurii @won-shine @stnkyash @yoursjaeyun @hooneam @jjhmk @pshchives @heeseungssidechick @hoonslutt @hwihwi0o0 @seuomo @knowleeknow @simpfortxt @enhypen106

[hotdaemondtargaryen]

EWAN MITCHELL INTERVIEWED FOR THE HOLLYWOOD REPORTER MAGAZINE.

THAT EPISODE IS GOING TO SATISFY SOME DRAGON-HUNGRY FANS. RHAENYS CERTAINLY MET HER DEMISE, BUT AEGON'S FATE WAS LEFT A LITTLE MORE VAGUE.

"It’s a seismic event that’s changed the future going forward with these characters."

"Aegon’s fate remains unknown."

"I don’t want to spoil anything for anyone."

"But going into episode five, you are going to see the fallout of Rook’s Rest, which I can’t wait for people to see."

"It’s a massive blow for Team Black."

"The line in the sand has been drawn, and Aemond just crossed that line."

"And there’s no going back. I’m sure there will be retaliation."

WHAT ARE AEMOND'S TRUE MOTIVATIONS IN THIS WAR? IF NOT LOYALTY, WHAT IS IT THAT'S DRIVING HIM?

"I think there are many things that are driving him, but one of them that I loved to play with and explore was this idea that he wants his mum."

"Every time I shared a scene with Olivia Cooke around the council table, every time I looked at Alicent Hightower, I very much imagined Aemond and Alicent sitting on a Dornish beach, far from war, sipping on piña coladas [...]"

"Aemond having become the war hero and managing to make his mum happy, in his eye, so to speak."

"Whether or not that’s Alicent’s version of happiness is another thing."

"But that’s how Aemond sees it. So I think that’s one of his is driving motivations."

"Also, what Alicent does in episode seven of season one, that’s something that Aemond doesn’t forget."

"When they’re all arguing about where Aemond had heard this illegitimate [child of Harwin] Strong [rumor] from, Alicent went back to the idea that this kid had been physically damaged and changed for life."

"She was the only voice that was backing him up in that moment."

WHO DOES AEMOND BELIEVE BELONGS ON THE IRON THRONE?

"You don’t necessarily know what is going on behind Aemond’s eye."

"He’s a very calculative person."

"He’s not just your one-dimensional black cat and mindless sociopath kind of character."

"He is thinking at all times."

"You see that in the first four episodes — in so much of them he operates from the peripheries."

"But, does he even want the throne? (Shrugs)"

HAS HE FALLEN VICTIM TO THE "HEIR AND THE SPARE" RESENTMENT, LIKE DAEMON?

"He feels that Aegon lacks the perseverance to be king."

"Aegon says it himself: He has no wish to rule."

"Whereas Aemond, he’s been studying with the masters."

"He’s been training with the sword, so he very much feels like he would make a worthier king, whether or not that’s what Aemond wants."

DOES DAEMON SEE HIMSELF IN AEMOND?

"That’s a good question."

"I don’t know if I could answer it."

"Maybe it’s one for Matt [Smith, who plays Daemon]"

"But I think a part of Aemond would wish that Daemon saw Aemond in himself."

"There’s so much of his image that lends itself to that idea that Aemond is very much paying homage to a young Daemon Targaryen, with the Targaryen black and the long hair."

"It’s very reminiscent of the rogue prince. Aemond being Daemon’s biggest stan, he would definitely want to live in Daemon’s head rent-free."

DO YOU THINK SEEING AEMOND IN A MORE VULNERABLE LIGHT SOMEHOW MAKES HIM MORE FRIGHTENING? IT'S LIKE THE PERSONAL VENDETTA — WHETHER IT'S AGAINST HIS BROTHER AEGON, RHAENYRA OR ANYONE ELSE — BECOMES A LITTLE SHARPER.

"I very much wanted to portray the image of someone who had manufactured their body into a lethal weapon."

"This kid doesn’t need armor. He doesn’t need to be brandishing a Valyrian steel sword to appear like he could ultimately end those characters’ lives in those moments."

"There’s something powerful in that regard. Me and Geeta Patel, we always talked about the possibility, up to that scene, of maybe Aemond wrapping a blanket around himself as he was leaving, or maybe using his hands to cover himself as he was leaving."

"But we were very-like minded in the respect that this is a character who does not care what you think about him."

"And that carelessness, it’s quite scary."

"Talking about that code coming into place, he cannot be seen as weak at all costs."

"Love in Aemond’s world is seen as a weakness."

"And so he has to put duty above that."

"He puts strength above that."

WOULD AEMOND BE IN THE SAME DANGER THAT HE IS WITHOUT VHAGAR?

"Probably not."

"He recognizes that he’s a young man who possesses a power that no one else has in Vhagar."

"He can do things that no one else can do, and she very much shapes the dynamic of any room that he walks into."

"He doesn’t need to be anything, because her shadow looms so large behind him."

"And so if he’s being threatening, it’s not because he needs to be — it’s because he wants to be."

IS IT WEIRD TO SEE SO MANY FANS CRUSHINT ON YOUR CHARACTER? THEY HAVE BEEN DEBATING WHO IS MORE 'BABYGIRL': DAEMON OR AEMOND.

"I haven’t got social media, so I don’t see it. But one of the results of not having social media is that it produces these beautiful, badass, fun letters from people from all across the globe."

"To read that, I take it all as motivation, whether we’ve had a good reaction or a negative reaction."

"I never take it for granted."

"But is Aemond babygirl? I don’t know."

"It’s a dilemma. What’s the definition of a babygirl?"

I THINK IT'S AN ATTRACTIVE CHARACTER THAT PEOPLE TAKE PITY ON A LITTLE BIT. SENSIBLE, A BIT VULNERABLE. MAYBE THEY THINK HIS HEART'S IN THE RIGHT PLACE.

"Like maybe there is good underneath it all."

"I’ll take the compliment."

WHAT'S TO COME FROM AEMOND THIS SEASON?

"I don’t want to spoil it, but it’s going to be good."

WOULD YOU SWITCH TO TEAM BLACK?

"No, no — I’d want to stay on Team Green."

WHAT'S TO COME FROM EWAN MITCHELL? HAVE YOU GOT ANYTHING IN THE PIPELINE THAT YOU'RE EXCITED ABOUT?

"Nothing is set in stone yet."

"I’m down to the last few for something that I really want and I’m not going to say what it is because as soon as I do, I won’t get it."

"[I’m up for] any challenge, any character."

"I love horror, horror is definitely a genre I’d love to venture into."

[tatorthots]

— get you

featured: college!Eren x afab!reader x college!Levi, Mikasa Ackerman, Sasha Braus, Louise (canon Yeagerist)

cw: modern!au, slight fluff if you really squint, suggestive content, minors dni, toxic dynamics, possessiveness, cursing

synopsis: the life of a college student is already hard enough as it is with classes, homework, and lectures so why not add a complicated love triangle as well?

a/n: this is a repost !! I’ve written this before but decided to go back and re-edit it :) to everyone who’s read this before I hope you all enjoy this improved version!

Eren fucking Yeager.

The college campus’ fuckboy and the literal bane of your existence.

Eren has been the thorn in your side since you were both assigned dorm mates at the beginning of your junior year of college. Sure, you’ve heard of the infamous name he set out for himself as the ruthless ‘Attack Titan’ in your school's football team, and you were fully aware of his cold and narcissistic personality but hey, who were you to judge a book by its reviews, right? So you made the mistake of ever being kind to him when you first introduced yourself only to be met by desolate green eyes and a scoff. Not to mention he had the audacity to give you ‘house rules’ which basically summarized to cleaning the dorm and staying out of his way. No, Eren almost never spared you small talk or even pretended to tolerate your mere existence. Why? Who fucking knows. Honestly, you firmly believed the brunette was born with a vendetta against you — every day striving and scheming to better his tactics in making your life miserable like some ripoff supervillain. But worst of all is the fact he seemed to make a habit of following you around campus like some lost puppy. You’d think someone who supposedly hates you would do anything to keep themselves away, right? Wrong. He thrived off bickering, insulting, and annoying you at any chance he got. Weirdly enough, no matter how many times you prayed someone would approach you to give you reason to ditch him, everyone always seemed to particularly steer clear from you when he was with you. Almost as if they were too afraid to even look your way, let alone talk to you. But I guess that could all be chalked up to Erens possessive behavior; his sinister stare and malicious intent were ever present anytime anyone dared get close to you. Not that you would know though, no, you were far too busy rolling your eyes and thinking of witty comebacks or insults. Unknowingly, making it easier to keep you all to himself.

Silly girl.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The echo of a blunt object clamoring to the floor abruptly stirred you from your peaceful slumber as the sound of it rolling on the hardwood floor rattled through the cramped dorm. Sitting up from your resting position you outwardly groaned as you rubbed the sleep off your eyes, “What the hell?” you sighed. Snatching your phone from its charging port you checked the time, squinting your eyes at the sudden brightness, “5:06 a.m?” Huffing in annoyance your jaw clenched as you glared at the door, already starting bright and early this morning huh you asshole, throwing your legs off the bed you groggily made your way out your bedroom door. Fuming at the fact you were forced to wake up so early after pulling an all-nighter studying last night; which, by the way, was already hard to do with Eren and his friends cluttering around the living room all night.

“What do you think you’re doi—“ your voice came to a complete halt when your eyes landed on an opened package and your recently delivered figurine displaced out of its box and lying on the floor. And to add insult to injury there stood Erens number one psycho of a fan, Louise. Giggling to herself as she kicked what would’ve been your most prized possession away from her. “What.. what are you doing…?” Your voice was barely above a whisper as your eyes remained focused on your figurine. The same figurine you excitedly pre-ordered a year ago. You couldn’t even afford to eat for a month afterward because of how much you spent on it and now there it was being kicked around by some desperate pest? So balling your hands into fists you marched over and shoved Louise aside to see the damage she had caused. But your anger only ignited when you saw your favorite character's weapon broken in half and their stand shattered to pieces. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You seethed as you bent down to sorrowfully try to connect the shattered pieces together. You were tired. So tired of this. Carefully tightening your hold on the broken pieces; you hated how you felt like you could cry from frustration. “Oops~” was all Louise bothered herself to say in response to her crime. Quietly, almost too calmly, you spoke, “… What did you just say?” “I said ‘oops’,” she cheekily replied, “besides, it’s not my fault you leave around boxes for anyone to touch.” Resting her hand on her hip she smirked down at you, “If you really cared so much about your little dolls then you shouldn’t have been so irresponsible~ heh, hope you learned your lesson.”

Standing up from your crouched position, you side-eyed Louise with a piercing, almost eerily, hyper-focused glare. This is it, you thought before clenching your fists and raising your arm, intent on actually beating her until your knuckles ached. But before you could swing, you felt a cautious grip on your wrist and a firm hold on your hip. Everything moved so fast, you didn’t even get to acknowledge the fingertips that slid up to the hem of your latex shorts before you found yourself spun and placed behind Eren. Staring up at him you blinked a few times. “Don’t get so heated.” He spat, with a disinterest in his tone almost mocking your apprehensive reaction, “She’s my guest.” He cocked his head at you with a sarcastic smile, and god did your eye twitch. It made your stomach churn and skin crawl knowing what he meant by that, and it… hurt. Shaking your thoughts, you swat his hands off of you, and scowled at the man towering over you, daring to defend the rat responsible for all of this. Dryly you scoffed, “She’s just another fuck-buddy you bring in here ren.” Crossing your arms together you continued your jeering, “You make a mess wherever you go and you even have the audacity to drag in trash? Tch. Please.” But, oh how naive you are to not notice. The glint of amusement reflecting off Erens emerald eyes just from the venom in your tone; it makes his dick twitch. He shifts a little uncomfortably trying to ease himself before exasperatedly sighing. “Well dove,” he begins as he starts to circle around you, “maybe if you weren’t such a self-righteous prude I wouldn’t have to bring girls in here…” stopping right in front of you he leaned down to reach eye-level, his taunting gaze only inches away from you as he lowly growled out, “I could just fuck you instead.”

Truth be told, Eren knew he was full of it — straight up lying through his teeth every time he told you he didn’t want you. In reality, the man was absolutely obsessed with you and anyone with eyes could see it, everyone except you. But unfortunately, Eren isn’t the type to admit his feelings so freely, let alone submit to his emotions. No, he was too prideful for that. Don’t be too harsh on him though, I mean, the idiot hasn’t even figured out himself what it is he feels for you. It could be part of the reason why he’s so particularly hostile with you, and why he’s equally possessive. Not to mention that Eren has been the object of many’s affection since he could remember; as in he’s never not had what he did or didn’t want. He learned early on that personality and sincerity isn’t anything more than currency in this world, and he abides by that principle. So to have someone like you, who’s breathtakingly mesmerizing, compassionate, intelligent, interesting, funny, and well, you, is completely left field for this playboy. You’re everything he thought wasn’t possible. You contradict his entire worldview of people. How could he not resent you — or fall for you all the same? He hates it.

However, as of now, all you know is that you’re fed up with this situation. Pushing past them to grab your keys and hoodie, you turned around and stormed through the front door. Did you know where you were going? Not a clue. But you sure as hell aren’t going to be anywhere near here. Anywhere near him. Walking out the door you heard Louise’s cackling laugh practically grating your ears and it only made your blood simmer further as you slammed the door behind you.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“I’ve told you to speak to the Dean and ask for another dorm mate,” sighing as she stirred her coffee with a spoon, her dark eyes flickered up at you, “I’m sure if you explain your situation to him he’ll be more likely to accept your proposal.” Anxiously combing your hair back, you groaned at your best friend's advice, “Mikasa don’t you think I’ve already tried that?” Dramatically throwing your arms on the diner's table, you buried your face in your arms, “The Dean only has a strict appointment-based schedule,” with a pout you lift your head up slightly, “and the waiting list spans for the next four months!” Tucking your head back to sulk, Mikasa hummed in acknowledgment, but that’s when your other friend spoke up. “Then why don’t you try talking to his assistant?” Snapping your head up, you stare questioningly at Sasha as she shoved another beignet in her mouth, “Yeah but —mmph — what’s his name again?” “Levi.” Mikasa chimed in, “Levi Ackerman.” Levi Ackerman..?, you thought, Why does that name sound so familiar? But you didn’t get long to think about it before Sasha excitedly shouted out, “Yes—! Levi!” Putting her fork down she rubbed her chin in contemplation, “Huh, I heard he’s kind of a total jerk though, and everyone who’s ever met up with him spirals into some sort of existential crisis…” Mikasa kicked Sasha from under the table as she nodded in your direction, “O-oh! But um.. I mean how bad could he be, right?” Trying to nervously wave off what she said, Sasha patted you on the head, “You’ll be fine, y/n!”

I’ll be fine? Groaning again, you leaned your cheek on your hand as you looked at the people chatting or studying at their tables. “Well, I guess I don’t have much of a choice..” which to an extent is true. You either continue to put up with Eren until you eventually get an appointment with the Dean, or you talk to Levi Ackerman and hope you don’t spiral. That name though…, you pondered, Why do I know it? Smearing around the egg yolk on your avocado toast you glanced up at your friends. “Hey, why does that Levi name sound so familiar? Do we know him or something?” “Yes and no.” Sasha answered, “You’ve heard his name before because he’s that super mysterious senior everyone’s afraid of.” “He’s been the leader of the Honors Society since he was a sophomore, and he’s top-ranking academically in the country.” Mikasa added. Thinking to yourself you finally remembered, “Oh! That’s right!” You triumphantly chirped until it dawned on you what you remembered. Noticing the dread in your eyes Sasha laughed, “Mhm, you definitely look like you remember now~” “He’s that academic thug…” sinking into your chair you genuinely began to wonder who you crossed in your past life to deserve this, I probably helped commit genocide or something…, “Yeah, he’s gotten into a few fights but it’s always settled within reason.” “Pft, c’mon Mikasa, the schools probably too scared to punish its most valuable student.” Sasha snorted. “Hm. You might have a point, but it’s usually ruffians who feel they have something to prove that challenge him,” Mikasa pointed out, “He also hangs around his small clique. I think, our seniors like Petra, Eld, Gunther, Olou, and Hange.” “See y/n! How bad could he be if he hangs out with them?” Sighing, you smiled at your two closest friends and their attempt at making you feel better. “Yeah, you guys are right,” finishing your latte, you beamed down at them, “I’m gonna kick today's ass!”

After the three of you waved your goodbyes, you set off to go find the very man you only hear of through quiet whispers. Honestly, with all the mystery shrouding him you really started to believe he was some sort of urban legend the school came up with. Kind of like ‘if you don’t do your homework, Levi Ackerman will show up in your closet’ type of thing, you know? With an exasperated sigh, you look down at your clothes. Great. I’m about to meet the guy who’s also known for his ocd in a jujutsu keisen hoodie, spandex shorts, and crocs.. Sheepishly rubbing the back of your neck, you stared up at the birds flying above you, I wish I could live freely like them… Longingly looking up, you snap out of your thoughts as you approached the administrative office. Well, I promised Sasha and Mikasa I’d do this so.. here I go. Stepping into the front office you began your unexpected hour-and-a-half-long journey being sent practically all across campus in search of this Levi guy. You went from office to office, met up with more people than you’ve probably spoken to in the last two weeks, and wasted time waiting around for people who ended up either not knowing where he is or sending you back across campus. Until finally you made it to the science research facility building where you tiredly dragged yourself toward the receptionist’s desk. “Please..” you heaved, “Please tell me… *gasp of air* tell me Levi Ackerman is in this building!” Your eyes pleaded at the poor, spooked old lady as she stared at you. “Oh honey, please have a seat!” She scurried next to you and guided you to sit down, “He’s tucked away in the computer lab right now, let me go notify him!” Grabbing her arm, you peered into her eyes, “He’s here?” “Y-yes!” Nervously laughing, she placed her hand on top of yours, “You know what? How about you come with me. He’ll most likely decline your visit if I notify him.” And with that, you made your final trudge with the old lady you managed to scare into personally leading you to Levi.

“Alrighty sweetheart, this is him.” Pointing toward a large door, the receptionist politely smiled at you before hurrying back to her desk and leaving you all alone. Glancing at the wooden door, you suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of anxiety. Okay… I um.. I made it this far, right? You tried to reassure yourself but the longer you stared at the door, the more your imagination ran rampant. What if he’s big and terrifying looking? You imagined a tall, ogre-looking man, Or what if he’s a total creep? Then some balding guy who resembled a mole. If ren were here I wouldn’t feel so intimid—huh? Ren? Shuddering at your thoughts, you took a deep inhale, Alright, clearly the longer I stand here the more I’m beginning to lose it, so with a little pep-talk you figured you might as well rip the bandaid. Twisting the handle, you carefully pushed open the door and peeked inside. The entire room was almost the size of an entire lecture hall but filled with neat rows of computers. Wow… you thought as you opened the door further to step inside. Looking around the room in amazement, you immediately stopped in your tracks when you noticed a figure sitting at the front of the room reading a textbook with notebooks and papers stacked on the table. That must be him. Clearing your throat you decided to call out to him, “Excuse me, I’m looking for Levi Ackerman,” slowly walking up to him you tried to fill in the silence, “I’m assuming that’s you, right?” Closing in on the table he sat at, you managed to make out a head of black hair and.. and him drinking tea? Quirking a brow at the full tea set he had displayed, you spoke up again, “My names y/n. I wanted to talk to you about an issue I have and I was told you cou—“ “Get lost.” H-huh..? Did I mishear him? “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you but I—“ “If you don’t intend to offend me then go bother somebody else. I’m busy.” His voice was deep and monotone, clearly uninterested in what you had to say by the way he didn’t even bother to acknowledge your presence.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you knitted your brows in irritation. Of course. Gritting your teeth, you strode right up to him and slammed your hand down on the desk, “You’re a tough guy to find, you know that?” You chuckled dryly, “Did you also know I spent the last two hours running around campus trying to find you? So no, I’m not leaving until you at least listen to what I have to say.” Setting his tea down, the raven-haired man finally turned to look at you, “Is that so?” He questioned, though it was clear the question was more rhetorical than genuine. With a long sigh, he swiveled his chair to completely face you; and then that’s when you flinched in surprise as you scanned him. He’s hot… you thought, Oh god, he’s hot..!? The man in question had inky black hair styled in an undercut, a complimentary choice when paired with his delicate yet sharp features. This definitely wasn’t what you expected. Even the dark circles under his eyes look good… A light blush began to creep up on your cheeks as you realized the commotion you just made in front of someone like him. All the while you stared in a flustered daze, Levi was languidly trailing his eyes across your body. Resting his head on his hand, he couldn’t deny he liked the sudden surprise presented to him. Huh.. he mused. “Well? What’s so damn important?” Straightening up at the sound of his voice, you smoothed out the wrinkles on your hoodie, “Oh! Yes, of course.. I’d like to propose a change of dorm mates.” Staring at him, the intensity in his eyes only worked to captivate you to him, “My… my roommate isn’t working out, and no matter what I try to do to civilize the situation it just doesn’t work out..” you ended, almost disappointingly. Levi hummed as he listened before standing up from his chair. “Is that what’s got you so worked up?” But something about his tone made you think he might’ve been referring to something else. “Why not go to the Dean?” He inquired as he slowly approached you, and you subconsciously took a few steps back until the back of your thighs hit a table behind you and you almost fell sitting on it. “The Dean has appointments booked all through the semester and since the matter is urgent I figured I’d reach out to his personal assistant.” The fact you managed to jumble that out without stuttering was a blessing in itself. “I see.” Narrowing his eyes on you he continued, “Then I guess I have no choice but to agree if it’s so urgent.” Blinking a few times you took a moment to process his words, Is he agreeing to help me? “Meet me later this evening to discuss the details,” his expression remained unchanged but you caught glimpse of the glimmer in his silver eyes as he stared at you, “I assume 7 works for you?” “7..?” You muttered, “Ah, yes, of course!” “Great. I’ll escort you then. Now if you’ll excuse me,” he closed in on your body and reached an arm past your waist, his lips inches away from your ear as he leaned in, “I have other matters to attend to.” Your body stiffened and your breath hitched until he pulled back with a notebook in his hand. He was.. just reaching for his notebook..? Nodding your head in agreement you politely excused yourself and raced out of the room with a bright blush searing your skin as he watched slightly amused at your disappearing figure.

After exiting the computer lab, you stood there for a few seconds in a flustered haze. What the hell just happened? Brushing your fingertips across your cheek you tried to ease away the warmth on them. Heh, I’ve gotta tell Sasha and Mikasa about this! You giddily thought as you whipped out your phone and started typing in the group chat. And after a morning of lectures and labs without your backpack, you finally made it back to your dorm. Heaving a sigh, you slung yourself on the couch and peeked your eye to where your broken figurine last lay. It’s gone… You figured Eren must’ve thrown it away along with the rest of the trash before leaving for his afternoon classes. Grabbing a pillow you covered your face and screamed into the fabric before sitting up and punching it a few times in frustration. “Fuck—!” You loudly groaned out. Why does he have to be that way? Scrunching your face, you massaged the bridge of your nose to calm down, He’s a dick to everyone, sure, but why does he target me so much? Even after… Throwing the pillow to the other side of the couch you hastily stood up and checked the time. Whatever, you bitterly thought, it’ll all be over soon enough. So you brushed off the thought and jumped in the shower to get ready for tonight’s occasion.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Rushing around your room, you turned your phone on to see 6:43 p.m. glaring at you. No, no, nononono—! Hissing in annoyance at your time management, you hurriedly slipped on a long, slit, silk skirt over your sheer tights. “Okay, alright, almooost done!” Grunting as you put on a pair of platform boots, you stood up and admired yourself in the mirror. “Heh,” you chuckled, “Elegant and fashionable with a touch of promiscuous.” After pulling a quick jojo pose in the mirror, you adjusted your open back top and strut through your bedroom door with an excited smile. But your smile immediately turned into a grimace when you caught sight of Eren and Louise lounging on the couch. Fucking bitch.. you internally sneered as you scrunched your nose in distaste. “Self-respect… and that goes for the both of them.” You mumbled under your breath. Forget it. Rummaging around the kitchen, you tried looking for your hand purse until an agitated voice called out to you.

“Shocked you’re not tryna run around empty-handed again since you had no problem with it this morning,” you could already see his irked frown, “and yeah I heard you’ve been taking a tour through campus by the way.” Roiling your eyes, you heard him shift as you clipped on your earrings, “I looked for you in the library to bring you your bag since apparently, you need everything done for y—“ widening his eyes, Erens jaw slacked as he eyed you. “…. fuck” he lowly muttered. He knew you were fine, he gets mesmerized by your beauty every day, but damn. Your leg peeking out of the silk fabric slit, and the way it’s tight fit complimented the curve of your ass was just too much for him. His mildew gaze trailed up to your open back top and he almost groaned at the slightest tease of side-boob. And just as he almost folded, he snapped out of it when he realized you were going out dressed like that. “Wait, where the fuck are you going?”

But Eren knew that wasn’t what he was really asking. No, what you wore never bothered him, in fact, he loved when you got all dolled up; let others look because he can fight — and he has, for you. What Eren was really asking was ‘Where the fuck are you going without me?’ ‘Who are you meeting?’ ‘Do you like them?’ ‘Would you forget me?’ Those were the real questions bouncing around in his head.

“Doesn’t matter.” Was all you replied, but the grip those two words had on him were like a vice. Leaning down to adjust your ankle bracelet, his eyes darted to the way your back subtly arched. He could already feel the tent growing in his pants, but he couldn’t be bothered to do something to hide it when all he could think about was how pretty you’d look stuffed full of him. He was desperate to touch you, feel you, claim you — just as desperate as he was to be owned by you, in every way, any way you’d allow him to be yours. Maybe you were just too dense for your own good. He tried his damndest to keep his composure as best as he could but his voice gave it away, “It’s a fucking date.” He snarled, low and threateningly. You glanced over at him, confused and infuriated at his audacity to interrogate you about where you were going or who you were meeting. “Doesn’t. Matter.” Both of you locked eyes as an intensity conflicted within his irises and a rage burned within yours. Scoffing, you turned on your heels, grabbed your purse, and walked toward the front door. Eren wanted to stand up and stop you, he wanted to do something anything but the pulsing ache in his pants kept him rooted to the couch. “Tell me who it is.” He demanded, and you finally reached your breaking point. Clenching your fists you turned your head and glared at Eren, “Hah. You’re really something, huh?” You condescendingly seethed, “You always bring in random girls in here almost every night and you have the fucking audacity to question me?” Reaching for the handle, you pushed open the door, “Don’t forget your place, Eren.” And his eyes widened at the use of his name, “And I won’t forget mine.” Slamming the door behind you, he felt his heart ache at the way your voice wavered when you said those last words. He wanted to argue, tell you that you’re wrong, that he’d do anything for you but he couldn’t. All he could do was stare at the door and lose himself in his thoughts.

Through the halls, you bitterly made your way outside the dormitory. Who the hell does he think he is? Roughly opening doors, you fumed, Acting like he owns me. Hah! If I didn’t know better I’d even think he cares about me. Bursting open the front doors of the dorm entrance you marched outside and hastily walked out of the dormitory district, What does he want from me? Seriously, I don’t understand him at all! You clutched your purse as you trembled with anger, He’s so confusing, ugh! He does things for me that make me feel special but then he… but then he acts like that! Like.. like Eren and I d— bumping into somebody, you stumbled back. Huh? Looking up you were surprised to see,

“Levi?”

“The hells wrong with you?” Steadying you with a hand around your arm, you didn’t realize he had grabbed you to keep you from falling, “Do you normally walk around like you’re ready to slice someone’s head off?” He asked, and you looked away in embarrassment, “.. sorry.” “Clearly whoever you’re so damn angry with should be the one apologizing,” letting go of your arm he sardonically added, “or it’s their funeral.” Covering your mouth, you laughed at his words, and his attention focused on the sound. Pretty.. he thought. Easing from your laughter, you looked up at him with a cheery smile, “Thank you for going out of your way to wait for me, I’m sorry I’m a little late.” “Yeah.. don’t-um..,” clearing his throat, Levi averted his gaze from yours, “Don’t worry about it.” Blinking at him, you stood admiring the way the luminescent streetlights illuminated his clear skin, “We should get going.” Interrupting your daze, you tilted your head in curiosity, Hm? Oh, that’s right, “Where are we going?” Checking his watch, his sharp eyes flickered up at you, “There’s a cafe I frequent often,” walking next to you, he placed his hand on the small of your back to guide you next to him and away from the street, “It’s a little hidden but they have a good atmosphere.” His gaze drifted to you and carefully took in the sight of you, “I hope it’s to your taste.” Glancing at him your eyes sparked with excitement, “A hidden cafe? I love checking out new coffee shops to study in! I’m looking forward to potentially adding another shop to my list!” Levi watched as you buzzed with enthusiasm. He was a little apprehensive about inviting you out to a small cafe, not knowing if it’d be something you’d enjoy, so to see you react so excitedly he sighed in relief. Seems this little venture might actually be worth its while. Unbeknownst to you, Levi did do a little background check on you through his student access — perk of being the Deans assistant — and he was pleasantly surprised to see all the achievements and participation activities you had under your belt. Most students don’t bother to do more than get through classes and do solely what’s asked of them as students. So his interest most definitely peaked when he quickly scanned through your transcript. Charming, fierce, intelligent, and beautiful. Lucky me.. he mused.

Like this fic? Consider reblogging, interacting, and commenting! It’s always appreciated!! ᰔᩚ

[blue-slxt]

Settling In

*Request*

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

A/N: Okay so I'm reposting this because I found out that the person who requested it was a minor and I don't play that shit on my blog. I am only for adults. So if you liked the old post, that one is gone now. All characters are aged up.

Pairing: Ao'nung x Fem!Sully!Reader

Warnings: Teasing, Smut, P in V, Rut Cycle, Breeding Kink, Choking, Creampie, Binding, Marking, Scenting, Blood, Belly Bulge, I think that's everything.

Word Count: 3.2k

Summary: Ao'nung has teased you relentlessly since your family came here. What happens when you stumble across him in the midst of his rut?

This felt like some kind of living nightmare. You and your family having to flee your home in the forest and come to the sea. Uprooting your entire lives, leaving everything you knew, forgetting who you were, and coming to start from scratch. The Metkayina way of life was beautiful and their village is wonderful in its own way, but it still doesn’t feel like home. Not even close. The one good thing that’s come out of this whole thing was meeting Tsireya. She’s been a welcome comfort for you and your siblings while you adjust to your new lives here.

She’s warm and bright and patient. It makes you wonder how someone so radiant could ever be related to someone like Ao’nung. Just the taste of his name in your mouth was enough to make you scrunch your face in annoyance. He was always just a pain to everyone, but a lot of times it felt like he put extra effort into tormenting you as Neteyam’s 5-fingered twin. The way your dad explained it, apparently twins are a human thing that can happen sometimes. The na’vi aren’t really familiar with the concept since it doesn’t occur naturally for them, but here you stood. The exception to the rule. And Ao’nung never let you hear the end of it.

Over the months, you learned to ignore him and tune out his endless teasing. Occasionally, when he would get tired of being ignored, he knew which buttons to press to get a response from you. Today was one of those days.

You sat out on the beach with Tsireya and Tuk and your mood sours when you notice Ao’nung walking your way. “Tuk, how about you go feed some of the ilu with Tsireya?” you suggested to her. You can tell what kind of mood he’s in from the mischievous glint in his eye. Her face lit up with pure joy.

“Can we?” she says to Tsireya.

“Of course. Come with me.” She holds her hand out for Tuk to take and you watch as she happily trails behind her into the water. The sight is enough to momentarily warm your heart before you have to harden yourself to deal with Ao’nung.

“Oh, am I not invited to join the party?” he drips sarcasm.

“I don’t need her getting caught up in your bullshit.”

He shrugs his shoulders and holds up his hands, “I wouldn’t mess with her. As far as I can see, she’s the only one of you that seems like a true na’vi.” You set your jaw and take a deep breath trying to center yourself.

“I mean the whole lot of you came out weird. Especially you. She wasn’t born with a weird extra finger or a spare copy. That child is more na’vi than you will ever be.”

He hit that button. You snap and hiss at him in warning. He’s unphased staring back at you with an amused smirk. He found it adorable to watch you get so worked up. And he loved being the one to get you worked up. “Fuck off” you snap at him before walking the other way towards the water with Tsireya and Tuk. Ao’nung turns on his heels and walks away feeling satisfied.

“I swear, Tsireya, I cannot understand for the life of me how you can be related to that!” you gesture back towards the shore at Ao’nung’s retreating figure.

“I know my brother can be a lot. He only teases because he thinks you are pretty.”

You roll your eyes, “That has to be the dumbest thing ever.” She giggles a little, “I never said he was smart, but it is the truth. Why do you think he’s always going out of his way to find you all the time?”

Tuk looks up at you, “Is Ao’nung going to be your boyfriend?”

You fake gag at her question, “Absolutely not Tuk Tuk. Now, show me how well you feed the ilu.”

…

Later on at dinner with the village, you sit with your family while they all talk amongst themselves. You’re not really paying attention to the conversation since you’re still a little agitated. Your eyes scan over all the people surrounding you and how happy they all look and wonder if eventually you’ll find that same kind of happiness. Or at least something close to it.

Rolling over the people, your eyes are met with a pair staring back. Ao’nung watches you from the other side of the bonfire. His face is serious and his breathing is heavy enough for you to see the dramatic rise and fall of his shoulders from here. What’s his problem? If anybody should be staring someone down, it was you. A nudge to your arm brings your attention back to your family. Neteyam is next to you giving you a questioning look. “It’s nothing ‘Teyam.”

“I think you forget, we have known each other since before we were brought into this world. I know you well enough to know that it is not nothing.” It was true. Neteyam knew you better than anyone. Whether that was because of him being your twin or because he took his role as the oldest so seriously, who knows. Most of the time, you’re actually pretty grateful that Neteyam could understand you so easily.

“Tsireya said something earlier and it messed with my head.”

“What did she say?” he scoots closer to you so that your conversation can be kept between you two instead of the whole family.

“She said…she said that Ao’nung thinks I’m pretty or something and that’s why he’s always teasing.” “Well duh. As much as I hate to say it, it is pretty obvious that he has a thing for you. And you’re not so innocent in all of this either.”

“’Teyam!” you are taken back by such an offensive suggestion. First Tsireya and now your own brother?

“You might not notice, but I do. Yes, he’s always picking at you, but you love this little game that you two play. It’s nauseating.” His tone is teasing, but he means it.

Ridiculous. How could you ever want someone like that? Your head turns to look back over at him, but he’s gone. You look around between the seemingly endless sea of people and can’t find a single sign of him. That’s weird, but you’re glad that maybe now you could continue on with your meal without eyes burning into the side of your face.

…

Looking around your marui, the rest of your family is peacefully sleeping. You had no idea how they did it. You couldn’t stop your mind from constantly analyzing all the ways that this place was so different from home and that thought literally kept you up at night. It had become something of a routine for you to sneak out on nights like this after everyone else was asleep. You’d tiptoe out of the pod and wander out into the forest by the beach.

It was nice here. It was the one thing here that reminded you of home. The plants and fruits were different, but the atmosphere was similar enough to give you some comfort. In particular, there was one large tree that you would visit most nights. You’d climb and sit on one of the giant outstretched branches and just listen to the sounds of the night.

This is everything right here. This is what helps you feel like you can finally breathe. At least, until you hear a scream in the distance. Immediately, your instincts put you on high alert. You stand from your spot on the branch with your knife in hand and look around as far out as you can see. A faint orange glow catches your eye from the mouth of a cave not far from you. That’s odd. Who else would be out here at this time? And why do they sound like they’re in pain?

You know that it’s probably not the smart thing to go investigate, but you’d also never forgive yourself if someone got hurt and you could’ve prevented it. You climb down and make your way through the forest towards the light you saw.

The closer you get, the more you can start to smell something in the air. It reminds you of fresh rain on tree bark. It’s almost sweet. You follow the scent to the opening of the cave, “Hello? Do you need help in there?” Your voice echoes around the inside of the cave and you’re only met with groans of pain for a response. “I’m coming in!” You grip the handle of your knife a little tighter before taking a step in. The glow grows brighter and finally a small fire comes into your vision.

You were already on edge, but the next thing you saw was what fully threw you off balance. It was Ao’nung. He was sweating so much you thought he might dehydrate himself, his hands were bound behind his back, and he was writhing around in pain. “Ao’nung?” His eyes snap to you and he looks completely different. Instead of his usual sea blue color, his eyes looked a deep purple.

“What are you doing here?” he’s out of breath trying to get the words out.

“I heard you yelling from almost a mile away, I thought somebody needed help. Believe me, I wouldn’t have wasted my time if I knew it was just you.” You cross your arms and shift your weight to one foot and his eyes watch the swing of your hips intently. He sucks in a sharp breath and doubles over. Your eyebrows knit together trying to understand what’s happening. “What is your deal?” You catch sight of a bulge poking through his loincloth and finally the last piece slots into place. “Oh shit…it’s your rut.”

He just nods his head since his mouth is too busy salivating.

Now it makes sense. The weird way he was behaving during dinner, the sweet smell in the air, and the hungry look on his face.

“Well, shouldn’t you be at home? I mean why the hell are you all the way out here like this?”

He shakes his head. “Too much…Need to stay away…”

Your chest tightens with a pang of sympathy for him. You’ve gone through many heat cycles without relief and it is excruciating. The suffering is unmatched. There’s only one thing that truly takes the pain away.

“This is crazy. I’m cutting you out of these.” You start to move towards him, but he tries to shuffle away from you.

“I don’t think you get it. If you cut me out of these binds, I won’t be able to stop myself. So don’t do it unless you’re ready to deal with what comes after.”

“I’m a big girl, Ao’nung. You think I don’t know what I’m doing?” you roll your eyes at him and move towards him again. “I mean it. This is the last warning I’ll be able to give you.” His tone is serious and his eyes are focused. But you don’t falter. You swallow down your nerves and continue forward. “Just shut up and let me do this, okay? Before I change my mind.” You crouch in front of him and reach around to his wrists. “Honestly, I don’t know why I’m even helping you. You’ve been nothing but a pain in my ass since I got here. But luckily for you, I’m feeling generous.”

You saw away at his bindings and your chest presses into his face. He inhales your scent and his hips twitch searching for something to grind against.

Before you cut all the way through, you pull back and look him in the face. His face tries to chase after your chest, but his restraints keep him in place. “This is the one and only time I’m helping your ass. Got it?” He can’t even bring his eyes up to yours when he nods his head. You tsk at yourself for getting mixed up in this mess, but there’s no turning back after your knife cuts through his ties.

His arms immediately fold around your waist and pull you into his lap so that you’re straddling him. He buries his face deeper into your chest breathing you in. “Chill the fuck out. Your scent is going to get all over me.” You try to crane your neck back, but a strong hand grips your throat and pulls you back forward.

“That’s kind of the fucking point.” His voice is a dark growl against your skin. His tongue drags a long stripe from the middle of your chest up to your collarbone and even further up to your ear. Your breath grows shaky. “You talk so much shit, but look at how your body reacts to me.”

“Shut up.” Your voice comes out more desperate than you mean for it to. He was right and you hated that fact most of all.

He’s growing impatient when his hands hold your hips and start grinding you into him. You let his hands guide you to where it feels best for him. His bulge presses against your clit with every drag.

He kisses and sucks on your neck and you just know he’s going to leave a mark. “Don’t…everybody will know…”

He only chuckles at your pathetic plea, “Everybody will know when you’re walking around carrying my baby.” He pushes his hips up against you and he can feel how you’re soaking through your own loincloth and his too. The waiting finally gets to be more than he can bear and he pulls his tewng to the side to finally free his impossibly hard dick. You feel yourself desperately clench around nothing. He pulls yours to the side and he lines himself up with your begging hole. You take a big breath to brace yourself, but you were not prepared for him to slam you down onto him in one swift motion and you scream out in surprise.

“Fuuuck…” he groans out feeling the way your walls frantically squeeze around him. You’re given no time to adjust before he’s lifting your hips up and down on his own.

It’s too much. It’s like he’s tickling the bottom of your ribs. When you finally take a real breath, all that comes out is a filthy moan. Looking down, you can see the imprint of his tip poking through your skin right at your navel. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen.

“Haah…fuck…Ao’nung…”

Ao’nung needs more. More friction, more of your sweet noises, more everything. That’s all his mind can think of right now. Just how much he needs you right now. He lays you down on the floor of the cave to give himself better access to pound into you.

His eyes are burning into your face and the eye contact is too much for you. It’s too embarrassing. You turn your head to find something else to look at, but he won’t have that. His fingers grip your jaw and turn your face back towards him. “Look at me. Take it.” He emphasizes his point by tightening his hold on your throat. Between his merciless thrusting, the intense eye contact, and his fingers around your throat, you can feel your orgasm quickly approaching. It makes you feel lightheaded and even as your vision starts to blur, you never move your eyes from his face.

Just before your consciousness slips away, he releases his hold on your neck and moves his hands down to massage your breasts. He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck and bathes you in his scent to mark you even further. His teeth sink into your skin deep enough to draw blood. He goes mad at the taste of your blood spilling onto his tongue.

“Oh, I’ve always wanted to fuck this perfect little body. Just watch you take it over and over. Fuck, I want to give you a baby.”

Was this just his rut talking? Or did he actually mean it? You couldn’t be sure anymore.

His pace gets faster and his groans get louder. “Fuck, I’m gonna fill this little pussy up.” His grip on your body is so tight, the veins in his arm are bulging out.

“Ah! Ao’nung! Yes!” your head falls back and your legs shake as you fall into your release. The way you clamp down around his dick pushes him over the edge and thick ropes of white spill over into your womb. It feels like fire in your veins, but it’s addicting.

Ao’nung keeps thrusting into you languidly trying to ensure he fucks as much cum back into you as he can.

He collapses on top of your heaving chest with closed eyes and you stare down at his face to try and check his condition. When he looks back at you, you breathe a sigh of relief seeing his normal blue shade. Never did you think you’d actually be happy to see Ao’nung in any circumstance.

“You okay?” you ask cautiously. He nods still catching his breath. “Great…You wanna get out of me now?”

“Oh, right.” He lifts himself up and pulls out of you and a primal part of his brain is pleased to see that none of his seed spilled out of you.

You stand to fix your clothing and hair. “So, you can go home now, right?”

He scoffs a bit more to himself than at you, “My ruts last 3 days. I am fine for now, but there’s no telling how long it’ll last for. I have to stay here until I’m out of it.”

All the nerves in your body come alive with…something you can’t readily identify right now. “Oh…I see…”

“So you’ll know where to find me if you’re ever feeling generous again.” He winks at you and you know that your face is flushed.

“You wish, fish boy.” And with that, you turn and leave back to your home. Thankfully, it’s still hours away from sunrise so everyone is still asleep. You stealthily slip back into your marui, but of course one person’s ears perk up.

“What are you doing?” Neteyam whispers to you. Shit.

“Nothing.”

“Why do you smell like that?” he asks. Shit shit shit.

“Don’t worry about it, ‘Teyam. Just go back to sleep.” You lay down and hope that will be the end of it. Neteyam knows better, but he’s far too tired to go back and forth with you about it right now in the middle of the night.

You finally get the best night of sleep you’ve had since coming here.

…

The next morning, you all have the day off of training so you get to hang around at home instead. You sit on the edge with your feet hanging over into the water. Jake comes and sits next to you, “You okay, baby girl?”

You smile softly to yourself at the nickname. You loved it, but you also felt like you were getting a bit old for it. “I’m okay, dad. I’m just still getting used to it here.”  He nods in understanding. “But I think I’m starting to settle in.”

[solarmorrigan]

Hands Where I Can See Them, part 8

Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3 | Pt 4 | Pt 5 | Pt 6 | Pt 7 | Ao3

My unending gratitude to @azure7539arts for talking through this chapter and the next one with me, and helping to untangle all my thoughts!

-

Eddie spends the next week walking on air. He thinks that if his younger self could see him now, just smiling at random throughout the day, practically mooning over a boy—over Steve Harrington—he’d be horrified, but Eddie absolutely does not give a shit. 

He’s happy. He’s hopeful. 

He has no idea what the etiquette is for calling someone after a date, if there’s a certain amount of time that you’re supposed to wait so that you don’t seem like a desperate loser, but he figures he wouldn’t adhere to it even if he did know the rule. He calls Steve the very next day and they talk for an hour. 

He calls the next day, pushing his luck just a little, but Steve is on his way out the door to work and only has a few minutes of time to spare for Eddie. 

A couple of days later, Steve reaches out to him, calling the trailer and this time catching Eddie on the wrong side of a shift. Eddie is tempted to say “fuck it” and just be late to work, but, employing a strength of will he hadn’t even realized he possessed, he recognizes that getting fired wouldn’t help anything. He promises to call Steve back, and he’s at the phone almost as soon as he’s gotten through the door after work that evening. 

“So,” Eddie drawls into the phone between hasty bites of a peanut butter sandwich he’d slapped together before calling, trying not to chew in Steve’s ear, “not that playing phone tag with you isn’t fun, but do you think I could see you again?” 

“You mean like a date?” Steve teases. 

“Exactly like a date,” Eddie replies, not even bothering to quash his smile. 

He thinks he can hear Steve’s own smile when he answers, “I’d like that. And I’m actually free this Friday, if you wanted to take advantage of that.” 

“Perfect. Why don’t we meet here, at my place?” Eddie offers, and Steve gives a little laugh. 

“What happened to waiting until the third date?” he asks. “Trying to seduce me into your bed already?” 

“While you are very much worthy of seducing, I’m afraid I have different plans for the evening,” Eddie says. “So, meet me here? About six?” 

“Sure, Eddie,” Steve agrees, voice still warm with mirth. “I’ll be there.” 

And so, Friday evening finds Eddie on the front steps of his trailer, eagerly bouncing on the balls of his feet and watching as Steve pulls up in front. He doesn’t even wait for Steve to fully exit his car before he’s crossing the distance with a few long strides; the moment Steve has straightened up and shut the door, Eddie is right there, leaning into his space the way he hasn’t been able to in what feels like too long. 

He’d like to drape himself over Steve’s back, wrap his arms around his waist, casual and easy like it had been before, but, apart from being in public, Eddie doesn’t want to push Steve too far. He keeps a small cushion of air between them instead, and leans up to murmur in Steve’s ear, “Goooood evening, sweetheart.” 

Steve laughs, nudging Eddie back with his elbow, but the fond look on his face says it’s not because he wants Eddie away from him so much as he just wants a little room to move. “You’re excited tonight,” he says, still smiling as he turns around. 

“Any night I get to see you is a very exciting night, indeed,” Eddie declares, just a little theatrical about it, grinning as Steve cocks an eyebrow at him. 

“Laying it on a little thick, don’t you think?” He’s trying to sound unimpressed, but Eddie clocks the pleased, pink flush starting to gather at the tops of his cheeks. 

“Nope.” Eddie shakes his head. “It’s true and I’ll say it. Now c’mon.” 

Eddie waves for Steve to follow as he sets off walking towards the entrance to Forest Hills, and Steve glances, confused, between Eddie and the trailer. 

“We’re not staying here?” 

“Nope,” Eddie says again. He keeps walking and, as expected, Steve heaves a sigh and jogs to catch up. 

“Then why did you tell me to meet you here?” he asks, falling in step with Eddie. 

“Because, I wanted it to be a–” 

“–surprise,” Steve finishes in tandem with him, rolling his eyes. 

“Hey, you liked the last one, didn’t you?” Eddie asks, leaning in to bump his shoulder against Steve’s. 

Biting his lip around a smile, Steve glances over at Eddie. “Yeah,” he admits, bumping Eddie’s shoulder back. “Yeah, I did.” 

“Then hold onto a little of that faith,” Eddie says. 

“I’d have a little more faith if you’d told me we’d be outside again,” Steve grumbles, mostly for show. “I would’ve brought a heavier jacket, it’s almost November.” 

“Steve, you run like a furnace,” Eddie deadpans. “Besides, it’s actually nice out. We should enjoy the last of it before winter descends and we spend the next four months freezing our asses off.” 

“That’s easy for you to say, you’ve got on two jackets,” Steve says, nodding towards the battle jacket Eddie has pulled on over his leather one. 

“Are you actually cold, or do you just feel like complaining?” Eddie asks. 

Steve shoots him a look. “You’ll know when I’m cold.” 

Smirking, Eddie shakes his head. “I’m sure I will,” he says. “But we’re not going to be out here long enough for you to freeze your precious bits off, anyway – we’re just about there.” 

“We are?” Steve glances around, confused, and Eddie doesn’t blame him; there really isn’t much in this direction until you hit town, which is a longer walk than just ten minutes. 

In fact, the only thing around is just coming into view as the trees fall away and a stretch of cleared land begins at the roadside. 

“Here we are!” Eddie declares, taking a turn and ambling into the cracked and pitted parking lot of the diner. 

“You… brought us here,” Steve doesn’t quite ask. “To the diner?” 

“Yeah, c’mon.” Eddie reaches out and takes Steve by the hand, tugging him along until they get close enough to the building that he has to drop it again. 

Truthfully, Eddie hasn’t been able to stop thinking about the diner since Steve brought it up last weekend – specifically, that night at the diner. 

The more he dwells on it, the more he feels cheated, in a way; like he’d robbed himself of the opportunity to experience his time with Steve the way Steve himself had seen it. And the way Steve had described that night, so full of warmth and potential – Eddie wants that. He wants to see it that way, too. 

“I figured we haven’t been here since– well, we haven’t been here in a while. At least, I haven’t. I don’t know if you…?” Eddie glances at Steve for confirmation as they walk through the door, and Steve just shakes his head, brows furrowed. “And I also thought, y’know, it might be nice. If we could both look at a time here as special.” 

The frown on Steve’s face doesn’t clear up at that, much to Eddie’s disappointment. He doesn’t look displeased, exactly, but he also sure as hell isn’t giving Eddie that same smile he’d given him last weekend. 

Steve’s just opened his mouth to say something when a voice cuts across the noise of the diner, sharp and pleased. 

“Boys!” Both Eddie and Steve look up to see Dottie heading towards them with a smile. 

If they have anything like a regular waitress at the diner, it’s Dottie – a woman at least in her late fifties with curly hair dyed a violent ginger-red, bejeweled cat’s eye glasses, and heavy, colorful eyeshadow that never seems to dare smudge past her lids. She loves nothing more than trying to feed the both of them until they pop, as far as Eddie can tell, and she always snaps them up when they visit on her shift. 

“I thought you’d forgotten all about me. Maybe found some fancier establishment to take your business to,” she says as she reaches the front. 

“Are you kidding, Dottie?” Steve asks, suddenly all charm and earnest smiles, his previous mood apparently forgotten. “We wouldn’t go anywhere else. You can’t beat the service here.” 

Dottie rolls her eyes, but gives Steve a pleased smile and a pat on the cheek. She grabs two menus and leads them back to a corner booth, past handfuls of regulars, families out for dinner with their kids, and groups of teenagers milking a single order of fries for as long as it will get them a table. 

“So where did you two go?” She drops the menus on the table and moves to the side as Eddie and Steve settle in. “Seems like you dropped off the face of the Earth for weeks.” 

“Uh… we were just taking a bit of a break,” Eddie says, at the same time Steve tells her, “We were busy.” 

Glancing between the two of them, Dottie gives a slow nod. “Uh huh. Well, it’s nice to see you back from your busy break. Two Cokes?” 

“You know us so well, Dottie,” Eddie sighs, batting his eyelashes up at her, which earns him an eyeroll and a pat on the cheek, too, before Dottie walks off the get their drinks. 

When Eddie looks back over, Steve is looking down, studying the menu even though they both have their favorites memorized by now. 

“Is… everything okay?” Eddie asks, sliding his own menu over just for something to do with his hands. 

“Yeah. Everything’s fine,” Steve says, and he almost sounds convincing – Eddie might really have believed him if he’d actually looked up at Eddie when he said it. 

Eddie sighs, glancing over the laminated plastic pictures of burgers and pancakes, trying to decide what he’s in the mood for. 

“Look, I just thought since we haven’t been here in a while, it’d be nice,” he says finally, voice pitched low, so it doesn’t carry past their table. “I know it’s not a candlelit dinner in the park, or whatever–” 

“That’s not it,” Steve cuts in. “It’s nothing, Eddie, just– it’s fine.” 

Anything Eddie might have come up with to say to that is cut off by Dottie’s reappearance with their drinks. 

“You boys ready to order?” she asks, pulling her order pad out and holding her pen at the ready. 

“Yeah?” Steve half-asks, glancing up and meeting Eddie’s eyes, and Eddie can’t see anything there but the question of whether or not he’s ready, so he nods, and Steve looks back to Dottie. “Yeah. Can I get a patty melt, please? And fries.” 

“You got it,” Dottie scribbles his order down and looks to Eddie, who teeters on the edge of getting a waffle before deciding on the club sandwich and his own order of fries (he’s not entirely sure how well Steve will tolerate his being stolen tonight). “Alright, I’ll get those in for you. Wave me down if you need anything, alright?” 

They thank her and she sashays off again, leaving Steve and Eddie to themselves. 

The quiet that falls over them isn’t comfortable. It isn’t like the contentment of simply sitting in one another’s company that they used to have, nor even a natural pause in conversation like they’d had at dinner last week; it’s simply an awkward lack of knowing what to say, how to keep things rolling. 

Something is off with Steve, but he refuses to say what, and Eddie is desperate to distract from it. He reaches for the first thing he can think of. 

“So I didn’t know you and Jeff were, like… friends,” he ventures, thinking back to the way they’d acted familiarly around one another on Eddie’s last visit to the video store. 

Steve looks up at him, face scrunched a bit in confusion, and Eddie rushes to clarify. 

“I mean, not that I thought you disliked each other, I just didn’t know you were hanging out.” 

Wait, no, now it sounds like Eddie is jealous, like he’s trying to keep tabs on Steve, who is still staring at him like he’s not sure what Eddie’s talking about. 

“Not that you can’t hang out! That’s fine, I just – thought maybe that was a recent development.” Eddie bites down on the inside of his cheek, trying very hard to shut up. 

“Uh, yeah,” Steve finally says. “I ran into him at Melvald’s one night a couple of weeks ago and he invited me to come over to watch a game sometime, since we weren’t really seeing each other at… the usual places anymore.” 

“Ah. Right. Right.” Eddie nods. “You know, you… could come to the usual places, if you wanted to. You’re always welcome. In fact, I think your presence as a spectator at Hellfire meetings has been sorely missed.” 

“Yeah, maybe.” Steve nods, but he sounds distant about it at best. 

“Did you wanna know what you’ve missed so far? I know we were kind of in the middle of the adventure when we, uh–” Eddie shrugs. “You always say you like hearing the story.” 

“Henderson’s been telling me,” Steve says shortly. He grabs his soda to take a sip, but now he actively seems irritated. 

Eddie does his best to tamp down his frustration. He doesn’t understand what he’s doing wrong; he has no idea where the night went south, but he’s hopeful he can salvage it. 

They sit for a little while longer in mostly awkward silence. Steve folds his paper straw wrapper over and over on itself until it’s a tight little square, then drops it on the table and watches it expand in a little puddle of condensation from his glass. He asks how Wayne is doing. Eddie tries to return the favor, before realizing that the only people in Steve’s life that he doesn’t regularly see are his parents (off-limits if he wants Steve in a better mood) and Robin (who may or may not still want to kill Eddie). He glances around the diner instead, and perks up when his attention lights on the back wall. 

“Hey, you got any dimes?” he asks Steve, who sits up a little at the unexpected question. 

“Maybe?” he says, shifting in his seat so he can reach into his pocket. “Why?” 

Eddie jams his own hand down into his pocket and emerges victorious with a small handful of change. “Never mind, I’ve got some. Be right back.” 

He hops out of the booth and heads towards the back, where the behemoth of a jukebox squats, waiting to be fed coins and spit out songs that no one even remembers. 

Steve had been right when he’d said most of the music sucks; there isn’t anything more recent than mid-70s, and almost nothing in there had ever been what you would call a chart-topper. Sometimes Eddie and Steve waste their spare change having a contest over who can find the worst song to play, until the waitresses start glaring at them and they slink guiltily back to their table. 

This time, though, Eddie flips through for one of the few good songs he knows is in there. He clicks to make his selection and grins as the quick-paced strum of a guitar pours out of the speakers, followed by the crooning of none other than Elvis Presley. 

You can always count on The King to pick things up. 

“There we go,” Eddie says as he returns to the booth. “Had to set the mood.” 

Or maybe you can’t always count on The King, because Steve actually looks kind of pissed. 

“What is it?” Eddie asks, any confidence the music had given him draining away. 

Steve stares at him for a moment longer, unnervingly intense, before he blinks and looks away. “Nothing. It’s– never mind.” 

“No, what’s–” 

“Here we are,” Dottie announces, appearing at the side of their table with plates in hand. “Patty melt for Steve, club for Eddie, ketchup for your fries. How’s that look?” 

“It looks great, thanks,” Steve says, smiling up at Dottie as though he hadn’t just been glaring offended daggers at Eddie; he’s always been good at that in a way Eddie hates – putting on that shallow, easy-going mask at the drop of a hat. 

“Anything else I can bring for you?” Dottie asks. 

Eddie is about to say no when he scans the table and realizes the one thing he’d forgotten. “Oh, actually – could I order a vanilla shake, too?” 

And that is apparently the wrong thing to say. 

Steve’s smile falls away, and he’s giving Eddie a look that sits somewhere between angry and hurt that Eddie doesn’t fucking understand. 

“Actually,” Steve says sharply, “I just realized that I have to go. I’m – there’s somewhere else I’m supposed to be, sorry.” 

He slides out of the booth around a shocked Dottie and pulls enough money from his wallet to cover his meal and a tip, pressing it into her hand before turning to leave. 

“Honey, did you want a box for all this?” Dottie asks, helplessly gesturing towards his untouched meal. 

“No, I – sorry, I just have to go,” Steve says, already halfway to the door. 

“Shit,” Eddie swears lowly, shimmying out of the booth to give chase. 

“Eddie!” Dottie calls out sharply, gesturing to his untouched meal when he turns back to look at her. 

“I’m not – I’m not leaving, I swear, I’ll be right back, I just have to–” He glances up frantically when he hears the bell over the door jingle, signifying that Steve is slipping away. “I just have to– Steve. I need to– I will be right back.” 

Dottie sighs and nods, and Eddie is off like a shot. He catches up to Steve at the end of the parking lot, reaching out and grabbing Steve’s shoulder when he doesn’t respond to Eddie’s calls. 

“Let me go,” Steve snaps, jerking out from under Eddie’s touch, but Eddie isn’t deterred this time, grabbing Steve around the arm and halting him in his tracks. 

“No. Not until you tell me what the fuck I did to piss you off!” Eddie says. 

Steve wheels around, shooting an incredulous look at him. “Seriously? I have to tell you?” he demands. “How could you think that any of that was okay?” 

“I don’t– You like the diner! Or you did!” Eddie exclaims. “How was I supposed to know you suddenly hate it there?” 

“It’s not the diner,” Steve huffs, and Eddie finally lets him go, if only to throw his hands up in the air, trying to toss some of his frustration off. 

“Then what? I’m not psychic, Steve! How am I supposed to fix my mistakes if you won’t even tell me when I’m upsetting you?” 

“You can’t just rewrite the past, Eddie!” The look on Steve’s face is thunderous, until it slides away like he’s too tired to keep it up, exhaustion following in its wake. “You can’t just – you can’t.” 

The chill Eddie feels has absolutely nothing to do with crisp October night that had descended while they were inside. “What? No, Steve, that’s not what I was trying to do. Why would I–” 

“So what, then? I tell you about the night I thought of as our first date and you decide to just throw it back in my face? Show me what it could have been if you’d just fucking looked at me?” Steve asks. 

And suddenly it clicks – everything Eddie had done tonight, almost beat for beat, entirely unintentionally, had damned him. 

Maybe if he’d waited a while between Steve’s confession and his decision to take them to the diner, it might have been okay, but for a musician, Eddie’s timing had sucked. 

“No, that’s not what this was,” Eddie insists. “I wouldn’t do that.” 

“Then we’re back to you just trying to– to fucking recreate something we already did, so you can try to make it better!” Steve says. 

In his floundering, a little of Eddie’s frustration boils over. “Well you’re the one who said you wanted to just go back to doing what we were doing!” 

“I also said I wanted to go forward with more awareness! Not go back and do the same shit over again!” Steve snaps. “I’ve spent the last few weeks just– going over and over everything we did together, looking at everywhere I fucked up, everywhere I misinterpreted you, realizing that everything I was looking at as us wasn’t– it wasn’t the same for you. And I was getting used to that, I was… making my peace, or whatever, thinking we’d just move on, and then you go and– and do this.” 

“I–” Any of Eddie’s frustration, any anger, it all dries up, leaving behind a cold, rasping desperation. “Steve, I’m sorry.” 

Steve opens his mouth, but the sound of the bell over the diner’s door sounds off again, and another man’s stern voice cuts into the silence. 

“Young man, you need to come pay your bill.” 

“Oh, Herb, he’s a regular, he’s not going to just run out!” Dottie’s voice comes on the heels of the man’s, equally stern. “Just give them a minute.” 

“I gave them a minute, Dorothy,” the man—Herb, Eddie guesses—snaps. “I won’t have delinquents doing any kind of dine and dash nonsense.” 

“Well, he didn’t even dine, so get back inside. And he isn’t a delinquent. Honestly,” Dottie is practically scolding, but Herb won’t be deterred. 

“You’d better go take care of that.” Steve nods back towards the diner, before shoving his hands into his jacket pockets and turning to walk off. 

“Wait,” Eddie calls out. “Just wait a minute, please don’t–” 

“Young man,” Herb barks out again, and Eddie hisses out a string of swears. 

He jerks back around towards the diner, yanking out his wallet and trying to count bills as he walks. 

“I’m sorry, Eddie, I tried to tell him,” Dottie says, genuinely apologetic. 

“It’s fine, it’s– fine.” He offers her a weak smile. “I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble.” 

Herb—the manager, if Eddie had to guess by his ugly, front-creased slacks and lack of apron—is unmoved. 

“Come with me to the register,” he says, opening the door and gesturing for Eddie to go in. 

“Dude, I know how much I owe you, can’t I just give you the money here?” Eddie asks, trying not to squirm with the antsy need to go running after Steve. 

“And how much do you owe me?” Herb asks, raising his eyebrows. 

“It’s, like, ten dollars for the meal, and then tip. Here.” Eddie holds out a handful of bills, but Herb refuses to take them. 

“Like ten dollars isn’t an exact amount. Inside,” Herb demands. 

Eddie is half tempted to just throw the bills at him and run, but even as Dottie squawks at the man that he’s being unreasonable, Eddie knows she won’t be enough to sway the guy from trying to ban him—or worse—so he follows Herb in and begrudgingly pays his bill at the register. He makes sure to hand the tip directly to Dottie, making spiteful eye contact with Herb as he does, and then he’s back out the door. 

He doesn’t see Steve out on the road. He doesn’t see Steve at the entrance to the trailer park. He doesn’t see Steve’s car in front of his place when he finally gets back, winded from running at least halfway there. 

Bastard probably took a shortcut through the woods. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Eddie hauls off and kicks one of the tires on his van, the nearest available object, which does nothing but hurt his foot and make him a little more miserable. 

When the jittering swell of anger and disappointment has receded a bit, no longer clogging his throat and giving him room to think a little more clearly, he considers his options. 

Like last time, he could give Steve room to cool off. To lick his wounds in peace and then maybe come back to Eddie, ready to talk again. 

Or. 

Or he could get in his van, go find Steve, and show him that he’s willing to face his mistakes and make them better, whatever that takes. That he wants Steve to tell him what’s really wrong, so they can address it and move forward. That he’s willing to fight for Steve. 

He’s already pulling out of his parking space before he even realizes he’s made his decision.

Part 9

-

Tag List (Currently full! Drop me a line if you want off the ride): @bushbees @y0urnewstepp4r3nt @gleek4twd @hellfireone @westifer-dead @anne-bennett-cosplayer @starman-jpg @mugloversonly @swimmingbirdrunningrock @alycatavatar @y4r3luv @rhapsodyinalto @vinteraltus @lilpomelito @tillystealeaves @noctxrn-e @pearynice @giverobinagfbrigade @novacorpsrecruit @hotluncheddie @strangersteddierthings @alongcomesaspider @theheadlessphilosopher @jettestar @rajumat @garden-of-gay @jamieweasley13 @dam28lh @oldwitcheshat @lololol-1234 @perfectlysensiblenonsense @salty-h0e @r0binscript @mavernanche @back2beesness @a-lovely-craziness @paintsplatteredandimperfect @redbullgivescaswings @emmabubbles @heartstarstar-blog @thesuninyaface @thatonebisexualman @fruitandbubbles @erinharvelle @m-owo-n @theystoodandplayedwithsilence @surroundedbyconfusion @luthienstormblessed @3ldr1tchang3l @pansexuality-activated

[dokidokitsuna]

Magical Girl #1

So I realize I haven’t been posting a lot here lately…there are several reasons.

Most of it was just a garden-variety depressive episode, which was unfortunately extended after I had to go on antibiotics for a couple weeks. It got to a point where I considered canceling a bunch of projects because I just didn’t like to draw anymore. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (Still recovering from that, tbh…)

After a while I decided to focus on my writing instead, at least to take my mind off that frightening thought. ^^; I got pretty far into a new novel (which I’ll probably talk about later) but more importantly, I managed to complete a 19-page script for ^this concept, the first new original comic idea I’ve had in years.

It’s basically my take on the idea of a solitary magical girl, which you don’t see so much of nowadays…I think the most famous is Cardcaptor Sakura, and even she had some magical sidekicks (iirc, they just had different sources of power, something like that). I’m not familiar with any examples in the genre where it’s literally just her, ala typical Western superhero…

But that’s not really the reason I wanted to write this story– I developed it mainly to explore the idea of a solitary protagonist, someone who doesn’t have any conventional social relationships outside of their family, AND doesn’t use the story to form any. How could I develop an entertaining story around such a person; what sort of character arc would they go through? Might this character realize, to some degree, that they’re not a ‘traditional’ protagonist, and have some thoughts about this…?

For a while I toyed with the idea of applying this framework to an existing idea, but then I figured it’d be easier (and shorter) to write a completely new self-contained story. Which led to the creation of Anno the magical girl, and her partner Armitage. ^^

My #1 rule was ‘no crutches’: No making her (2) family members stick to her like glue and take the place of the usual friendgroup, for instance. This rule also forced me to change the usual characterization of the helpful fairy sidekick to that of an abusive parasite…which ended up being one of the best writing decisions I ever made. ^^ I love Armitage; not only are he and Anno a great comedy duo, but I think his meanness makes Anno a stronger character.

His worst ‘friendless loser’ insults towards her are just simple statements based (oddly enough) on things I’ve heard people express about themselves. So his dialogue becomes almost cathartic, and Anno’s reactions to it become more realistic as a result. She can’t just brush off his comments as meaningless hate; she kinda has to internalize them whether she wants to or not…if she were just a little more sensitive, this story would probably have a very unhappy ending. ^^;;; But as it is, it’s just an introspective comedy about a neurodivergent girl learning to love and trust herself.

I’m not 100% sure what I’m going to do with the script now that it’s done…mostly I’ve just been using it as motivation to draw for fun again, and to continue developing a manga style (I think I’m getting close to something solid).  But will I actually attempt to draw the manga? Will I try that thing I always wanted to try where I commission some artists to draw it with me…? Or will I just hang onto it and start writing a sequel in my spare time, like I usually do? ^^; Only time will tell…

[m1ckeyb3rry]

── THE GLASS PRINCESS // ELEVEN

Series Synopsis: You wake up in a strange room with no memories, broken glass at your bedside, and a prince named Zuko as your only chance at figuring out who you really are.

Chapter Synopsis: Your evening with Lee is cut short by the arrival of a strange boy with hooked swords. Instead, you go to the fountain and reveal your greatest secret to the Blue Spirit.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Zuko x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.0k

Content Warnings: complicated relationships (strangers to friends to lovers to enemies to strangers to lovers to enemies to lovers), amnesia, alternate universe, lots of secrets and lying and mystery

A/N: i hope you guys don’t think i’m insane for how often i’m updating

Something amazing had just happened to you, and there was no one you wanted to tell more than Kuei. Your brother, who you loved more than anything. You could envision his pride already, the way his face would glow when he saw it, the way he’d pick you up and spin you around and tell you how happy he was.

It was as you ran down the carpeted hallway towards his chambers that you heard hushed voices coming from the room where your brother’s council of advisors met. He was still young, of course, a child as you were, and so the daily goings-on of the kingdom were managed by these advisors, who were all specialists in their field and had advised your father before Kuei.

Always more interested than your brother in this type of affair, you rested your back against the wall by the door, holding your breath so that you did not alert the men to your presence. They were speaking quietly, but they had left the door ajar by mistake, and so it was not very difficult for you to listen in.

“That boy is no king,” the first said. “Do you think his father would let Long Feng walk over him like that?”

“He is still a child,” the second said. “We cannot expect much from him.”

“Even as a child, he has no interest in learning statecraft, nor the history of his kingdom. He’s far too busy playing with his sister and drawing pictures of bears in his lesson book to absorb anything of use. I fear his reign will lead to the end of the kingdom as we know it,” the first argued. At this, the second sighed.

“You’re right about that much, to be sure. He does not have the power to back up the few proclamations he makes. What kind of general obeys a king like that?” the second said.

You swallowed, for these were words you knew to be treasonous. They were speaking ill of your brother, of the King Kuei, and they ought to lose their stations for it. There was nothing you could do, though; even if Kuei would believe you, who else would? Who would discharge two premier advisors on the words of a little girl?

“If only he were born an Earthbender,” the first said. “Then he could be trained. Then there would be a way that he could eventually gain the respect of the rest of the council.”

“There hasn’t been an Earth King who could Earthbend in many decades now,” the second said. “At this point, I’d even take a queen, if she could just do that much.”

“What do you mean by that?” the first said. The second huffed.

“You know. That sister of his,” he said. “If she shows some promise…if she can lift even a pebble…then we will do what we must in order for the kingdom to have a strong ruler.”

“You’d kill the king in favor of a queen?” the first said.

“If she can Earthbend, then I’ll kill anyone for her to rule,” the second said bluntly. “It’s about time that the world was reminded of why Shan’s line is so feared.”

“You are more daring than I thought, old friend!” the first said. “Let’s vow to keep an eye on the young princess. The moment she gives us a hint that she can Earthbend, we will strike.”

“And if she doesn’t?” the second said.

“Then we’ve lost nothing but a few spare moments spent caring for our dear king’s heir,” the first said. “It’ll only make us look better in the eyes of the royals. We really cannot lose in this scenario.”

“You’re right,” the second said. 

You didn’t stay to hear the rest of it. Staring at your palms in horror, those very palms which might lead to your brother’s death, you ran back to your room as fast as you could, pressing your hands over your ears as you chanted the same thing to yourself under your breath, over and over like it was a mantra.

“I am not an Earthbender. I am not an Earthbender. I am not an Earthbender.”

“You know, I had a lot of fun with you,” you said, pulling on the end of Lee’s sleeve to get his attention. “Lee, I really am being serious. I enjoyed it.”

The two of you had spent the rest of the afternoon doing random things around Ba Sing Se. You had bought lunch for you both, and Lee had argued with the vendor until he agreed to give you the food for half-price, after which you had sat by the fountain and eaten together. It was surprisingly nice, even though neither of you had spoken much. Oddly, you didn’t mind silence with him. It was alright. It was nice, even.

“Yeah, whatever,” Lee said. “I guess you could say I had fun, too.”

“It wouldn’t kill you to admit that you like spending time with me,” you said.

“It might,” he said.

“Oh, save it. At the minimum, won’t you say that it was better than working the afternoon shift?” you said.

“That much is true,” he allowed. “But it’s back to work for me now. It’s just about time for the evening round to start.”

“For shame,” you said. “Let this not be the last time we do something like this together.”

“Okay,” he said gamely. You were actually taken aback, not expecting him to agree so readily. Lee was one of those particularly contrary people, the type to refuse on principle, even if he harbored no real misgivings, so for him to just say yes was out of character. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Did you like your lunch that much?” you said.

“Huh?” he said.

“It’s just that I wasn’t expecting you to acquiesce so quickly. Normally, you would’ve pretended to deliberate over it for at least a minute or two,” you said.

“You told me a good story,” he said. “Do you blame me for wanting to hear more?”

“Ah, so I’m your new theology lecturer,” you said. “You should’ve said so from the start.”

“Not exactly,” he said, staring at his feet as he walked. “You’re something else.”

“Something else! And may I be privy to what that might be?” you said.

“No,” he said. “It’s for me to know, not you!”

By his tone alone, you could understand what that something else could represent, but you did not force him to explain further. He always gave you these considerations, never made you talk more than you offered, never demanded you elaborate, so you did the same for him, only humming a song your brother used to sing to you as you entered the tea house.

“This is where we must part, then,” you said when you and he reached the counter. Lee pulled his apron down from its hook and tied it back on miserably, already dimming, though you had not noticed until it was vanished that he had been close to happiness the entire time the two of you had been together.

“Lee, Y/N! You’re back!” Mushi said as he exited the kitchen. “How was it?”

You arched a brow at Lee, jerking your head towards Mushi, indicating that he had to respond in his own words. It was not just because it was polite; you wanted to hear it, too. What would he tell his uncle about the outing? What had he thought of it?

He finished tying the apron behind his back in a neat bow and rolled his sleeves up again, revealing his sinewy forearms. It was something you had always taken note of: he was far more well-built than you would’ve expected of an ordinary citizen. It was closer to the lithe musculature of the higher-ranked soldiers, but you had never come up with a satisfactory explanation for why he was like that.

“We had a good time,” he said shortly. “Am I serving or washing this time?”

“That is great to hear,” Mushi said. “I told you you would! And I think they want you serving tonight.”

He said something under his breath that you could not quite catch, but then he nodded, ducking beneath the counter to produce a tray. And though it meant that you would be late to the lighting of the fountain lamps, where you might meet the Blue Spirit, you found yourself lingering, trying to squeeze out every bit of time you could spend with Lee until you had to go for good.

You weren’t sure why you wanted to. It was a realization you were on the brink of arriving at, but you hadn’t quite reached yet. It just remained that that was how it was, that you preferred arguing with him to speaking fondly with anyone else, that you’d rather sit in silence with him than have an avid discussion with another person.

“Hey,” Lee said, pausing before you with the empty tray in his hands. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.”

“What a turn of events,” you said. “The very boy who tried to ban me from the shop is now inviting me back.”

“And the very girl who was once illiterate is now telling stories of her own,” he said with a wry half-grin. “Things change.”

The door slammed open, almost bursting off of its hinges, and you all but leapt out of your skin as a boy brandished a pair of hooked swords at you and Lee, a piece of grass sticking out of his mouth, incongruous with the rest of his regalia.

“That’s enough!” he shouted. “I’ve had enough of all of you! Since no one believes me, I’ll prove it myself!”

“What are you talking about?” one of the low-level militia members who frequented the shop said. “You have about ten seconds to drop those swords, boy.”

“That boy and the old man are Firebenders!” the boy shouted. “Judging by the girl’s closeness to them, she’s in on it, too! I bet she’s a Firebender as well!”

You thought it was ironic that he was accusing his own kingdom’s princess of being from another nation, but considering no one knew who you were, you could not share the humor you derived from the ridiculous declaration. Glancing at Lee, you saw that his mouth had set into a firm line.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about! You must be confused,” Mushi said.

“I saw you warming tea!” the boy said. Almost collectively, everyone in the shop rolled their eyes.

“Uh, yeah,” you said, speaking for the entire crowd when you did so. “He’s a tea-maker. They do tend to do that.”

“That’s not the point! How about this?” he said, jabbing his swords at the poor, defenseless Mushi, who backed away in concern. “I’ll just make you Firebend! If you do it in front of everyone, then there’s no way it can be denied any longer!”

As the boy rushed towards you, Mushi, and Lee, the militia man stood in your defense. Before he could do anything, though, Lee was taking the swords of the man’s back and pointing them at the boy.

“If it’s a show you want, then it’s a show you’ll get,” he said. You gasped as the two of them began to battle. Mushi took you by the arm, pulling you out of the way as Lee and the boy leapt atop the tables, slashing at one another with blows that were not meant to solely maim.

“What is happening?” you said as the clash made its way outside. “Since when can Lee use broadswords?”

“He’s a boy of many talents!” Mushi said as you followed the crowd outside. You hid behind him, peeping over his shoulder and clutching the back of his shirt when Lee sacrificed one of his swords so that the other boy would lose one of his.

“Will he be alright?” you said. You couldn’t understand the extent of your nerves, only that you were nervous. You didn’t want Lee to die, of course, but that was a natural reaction which any person might have. What was strange was that every time the boy’s hook whistled near Lee’s face, every time its wicked tip nearly caught on Lee’s arm, your heart leapt into your throat.

“He’s skilled, but this poor boy is confused. Someone, please help him!” Mushi said. “Oh, thank goodness.”

You weren’t sure why he was so relieved, but then you saw those familiar uniforms and squeaked before crouching behind Mushi. It was two Dai Li agents, come to take the other boy away — two Dai Li agents who, if they had turned their heads even a moment earlier, would’ve seen you and known that you had escaped the palace right under Long Feng’s nose.

“Are they gone?” you said as the crowd began to disperse. “Is everyone okay?”

“Yes, it’s all clear,” Mushi said. You looked around his legs, but he seemed to be telling the truth, so, straightening, you brushed yourself off.

“Thank Quynh,” you said with a shudder. “That was so frightening. Lee, are you fine?”

“It was nothing,” Lee said, wiping the sweat from his brow as he handed the militia man his swords back. His expression was still dark as he took off his apron and tossed it at his uncle. “I’m taking the rest of the day off, uncle.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you said, reaching out and placing your hand on his shoulder to stop him before he could stalk back into the tea shop. He whirled around, and you preemptively cringed back, already feeling sorry for asking, but it was too late.

“I said I’m fine!” he said. Upon noticing how you had already shrank away, though, his eyes widened. “Just…it’s fine. You should go, Y/N.”

“Right,” you said. “I’ll, um, see you around.”

He nodded, and then, before Mushi could convince you otherwise, before anyone could tell you to stop, you were running towards the fountain, the only place where you might find some solace, even if said solace had not come in so long.

Finding that familiar bench, you collapsed atop it, the stress of everything compounding until you were close to tears. What if Lee had really been injured? What if the Dai Li had not come in time and the boy had bested him? What if he ended up in the same state as some of the people you had seen in the Lower Ring? If he lost his arm or his leg, if another scar was sliced into his face, then what?

You had not been crying for very long when there were those same footsteps in front of you, the soft, light ones that you had all but memorized from how frequently you imagined them. Though you did not take your hands away from your face, you opened your fingers, peering through watery eyes at the figure squatting before you.

He tapped your wrists, and you let him pull your hands down, even though you were more than a little embarrassed to be found in such a state by the Blue Spirit, who always seemed so collected. Using your neckline to blot away your tears, you ignored your rational mind’s warning and threw your arms around his shoulders, resting your face against the crook of his neck.

“Things are so terrible, Blue Spirit,” you said, holding onto him as if he were an anchor. He was hesitant in reciprocating, but eventually, his own arms settled around your waist, keeping you in place if not pulling you closer. “My — my friend, have I told you about him? My friend, his name is Lee…I’d never say it to his face, but he’s someone I really admire. He’s so certain of himself and his opinions, and he’s not like Kuei or the servants at all — he’s really very witty, he can actually keep up with me and argue his own points when we speak instead of constantly bowing to my whims or dismissing them in turn! He’s my friend, my only friend, except you, but today he was attacked. Attacked! In my own city, he was attacked!”

The Blue Spirit patted you on the back. It was a little too rough to really be considered comforting, but you understand the intention and found that the effect was not lessened despite his ineptitude.

“I was so worried he might’ve been hurt,” you said. “What would have I done then? Who would I have if not him? You might not believe it, or maybe you might find it depressing, but I’ve really grown attached to him in the short time we’ve known one another. Besides you, he’s the only person who’s treated me normally, without reverence. I’m not her royal highness the princess when I’m with him. I’m just the frustrating Y/N who likes books and distracts him from his work.”

The Blue Spirit pulled away and shook his head at you. You laughed, though it was a thin, brittle sound.

“You don’t know the half of it,” you said. “It’s a wonder he gets anything done at all when I’m there. A testament to his character, maybe. Anyways, I think I’ve upset him.”

The Blue Spirit shook his head once more, but you could only stroke the cheek of his cool mask.

“Thank you for that, but I really have. It’s alright; I will apologize to him tomorrow. I was in the wrong for bothering him when he had been in such peril only seconds previously,” you said. “I’m sorry to you, as well, for burdening you with my troubles. It’s only that I hadn’t realized the truth of Ba Sing Se until now. I was told that the city was more dangerous than I expected before I came here, but until I experienced it myself, I didn’t quite appreciate what it entailed.”

The Blue Spirit nodded, using his gloved hand to swipe away the tear tracks which had dried on your face. You caught his hand and squeezed it.

“I want to show you something,” you said. “It’s a secret that I haven’t told anyone else in all my years of living, but since you’ve saved me twice already, I think that it’s alright if you know.”

He cocked his head as you trotted over to the fountain, fishing around in the water, pulling out one of the little glass lanterns that floated along the surface in the night, when the turtleducks had gone away to wherever they slept. Blowing out the candle, you smashed it against the ground, careful not to cut yourself on the twinkling shards.

“You see, the reason why I’ve been kept in the palace is because I’m a nonbender like my brother, like my father, like most of my family, in fact. It’s because I’m defenseless — or at least, because I’m thought to be,” you said. “But it’s not entirely like that. Er, the second thing is true, sadly. I am defenseless, or nearly so, but as for the rest of it…”

Gathering the pieces of glass in your palm, you concentrated on them, or, specifically, the tiny particles of earth which they were made of. It was not a feat of strength but of precision, and though you held no claim to the former, the latter was something you could proudly call yours.

Shielded by the Blue Spirit’s body on one side and the fountain on the other, the jagged edges of the glass smoothed and curled on your palm, melding together until they formed the shape you wanted them to: a sparkling lily, which you presented to the man.

“That’s the extent of it, I’m afraid,” you said as he held it up to the firelight. “Glass flowers and other such sculptures. I’m not particularly strong, you see, or if I am, then I’ve never been able to cultivate that strength. Bending exercises, repeated forms…I could not practice things like that for fear of what would become of Kuei if I did.”

He was obviously confused; you did not blame him. It was a confusing statement without the context behind it, so, staring at the rushing waters of the fountain, you began to explain.

“I was fairly young when I discovered that I could Earthbend,” you said. “I ran to tell my brother, but on the way there, I overheard a pair of his advisors saying that if I turned out to be an Earthbender, they’d kill my brother so I could take the throne. That was something I could not allow — he is my brother, you know. My only family. I could not let him die, too, so I swore off bending forever.

“I was not entirely successful. Bending is something that those of us who have it must perform frequently in order to be fulfilled, so my compromise was making things like that flower. Little artworks, which were innocuous enough that no one was ever suspicious as to their true origin. I didn’t have a traditional teacher, but Quynh — yes, the bear spirit, the patron of the Earth Kingdom, the great mother, that Quynh. I’m the princess, aren’t I? It only makes sense that she guided me. Anyways, she taught me that, if I could not train my power, then I had to refine my senses, so that I was sufficiently challenged without making my prowess obvious.

“At first, I only bent crystals, which are harder than pure earth but easier than glass to work with. Eventually, though, I grew bored of making small pieces of jewelry for Quynh, no matter how lovely she looked draped in diamonds and rubies. After that, I graduated to glass, and that’s what I do when I’m bored of reading and studying — I practice.

“I suppose you could call me the world’s only Glassbender,” you finished. “Not the first, but the only remaining, as Quynh was the only remaining bear. It’s not a very practical element, but it’s not like I’ll ever need to use it for anything but aesthetics, so for my own purposes, it’s suitable.”

The Blue Spirit admired the glass lily, and you laughed as he turned it over in his hands — a real laugh this time, not a despairing one. He was like a child, filled with such delight at the simple toy you had fashioned. For a while, he played with it, tracing each edge and crevice with his slender fingers, caressing each individual petal, and then finally, reluctantly, he offered it back to you.

“No, it’s a gift,” you said. “You can keep it. It’s not difficult for me to make more, and no matter how pretty it is, it’s really only glass. It’s not in rare supply by any means.”

He did not think twice, carefully tucking the flower away in the folds of his clothing. You smiled at him before raising your finger to your lips.

“It’s a secret, remember? No one can know I’m an Earthbender. No one can realize the truth, lest they depose Kuei and install me in his place,” you said.

The Blue Spirit offered you his hand, and for a moment you stared at it unsurely. It was a strange form of agreement, but then you understood — it was not his hand he was offering but his pinky finger. You interlocked your own with it, so that the deal was made, the secret sworn, and then you let go.

“Imagine how the civilians would laugh,” you said, sitting on the marble edge of the fountain and dipping your fingers in the water. “If they knew the truth. That name they call me is more apt than they realize, isn’t it? The Glass Princess. I really am one.”

He sat beside you, though he did not dip his own hand into the water. He only observed you, and though it might’ve been intense, uncomfortable, awkward, were it anyone else, it felt reasonable with him. Like that was what he was meant to be doing.

“Can I see your hand?” you said. He gave it to you readily, and you cradled it in yours, arranging it so that the palm was facing upwards, before pausing. “Is it alright if I take the glove off?”

You waited. For a moment, the night was utterly still as he thought about the request, and in that time, you came to notice things about the world which you had thus far been blind to.

The precise shade of his mask, which was a deep blue like sapphire-paint. It was something that you could never erase from your mind, the visage of your savior, the color which had stood between you and your death — but it was also the color that had unmasked the truth of your city to you. If it were not for the Blue Spirit, wouldn’t you still live in that same ignorance? You could not yet say you understood anything, but now you knew that there was something there which needed to be understood in the first place. Before, you were not even aware of that much.

The exact scent clinging to him, which was the delicate fragrance of the honey that some used as sweetener in place of sugar. It was not overwhelming nor heady; it was a soft, warm aroma, as gentle and inviting as candlelight.

The shushing rhythm of the fountain in the background, which was melodic in its sameness. It was another one of those sounds, the type that easily faded away when it was not on your mind but which was omnipotent when you paid attention. The steady flow of the water lulled you into another state — not sleep, because you could not sleep when you were so close to the Blue Spirit, but the opposite, a heightened awareness of both yourself and of him.

That was why time passed both agonizingly slowly and yet dizzyingly quickly, up until the moment that he nodded in agreement and whatever trance you had been in was broken.

Anticipation rushed through you as you took your free hand, the one not supporting his, and tugged on the end of the glove. It came off with a swift motion, and for the first time, there was the sensation of your skin touching his own.

“They say you can tell someone’s future by these marks,” you said, dancing your fingers along the creases of his palm. “It’s an ancient art. Very esoteric. I never learned much about it, but now, I wish I had.”

You wished you could read his future, untangle those winding ways into something comprehensible. The roadmap of the Blue Spirit’s life. You wished you could read it, could know if that destiny was one that included you in its course, but you did not say anything along those lines. You didn’t know what that desire meant yourself, and you didn’t want to frighten him, either, in case it sounded like something it was not.

Though his hands were surprisingly soft, there were calluses formed in the places where he gripped his swords. They were incredibly warm, too, though it was in a pacifying way, not with the sickly sense of fever. They were the hands of a warrior, but also the hands of vanity, and it relieved you to see that even the perfect, infallible Blue Spirit was prone to this fault.

“If only I were more like you,” you said. “Ba Sing Se is in such a state of disrepair, and I can do nothing but offer coins to those I come across, in the hopes that I might alleviate their personal struggles. That’s not hardly enough, though. For every one person I can help, tens of others do not get the same chance. Tens of others continue to suffer from a problem that I cannot identify. What princess does not even know why her subjects are in such pain? What princess can do so little about it?”

The love for your kingdom or the love for your brother? If you were the queen, would things be any different? Would Ba Sing Se be in a better position, or would it all be the same? Well, it was a moot point now. You were not an Earthbender in any way that mattered. The advisors had longed to instate you so that you could remind the world of the power of Shan’s line, but as it was, you would only make a mockery of your famed ancestor. The man who had established the entire Earth Kingdom, left with a great-to-the-nth-degree granddaughter who could only bend glass. That was his lineage. That was his legacy.

“My forefathers must be so ashamed of me,” you said. “What have I ever done with my life? What is there that I can still do? I am the Glass Princess, and that’s all I will be remembered as. King Kuei’s sister who would’ve watched Ba Sing Se fall if it meant she could keep her pretty jewels and fancy dresses.”

Taking another lantern, removing its candle, you twisted the glass into a miniature replica of the Earth Palace. It was meticulous and perfect; such was the training Quynh had given you, after all. Form over function. Accuracy over mass. Mental fortitude over physical fortification.

“That’s where I am,” you said, tapping the minuscule window. “All of the time, unless I am with you or in the tea shop. That’s the extent of my world.”

Two finger lengths long. That was your existence in summary. You put the Blue Spirit’s glove back on and gave him the model of the palace.

“In case you ever visit,” you said. “So you don’t get lost. Come see me if you do, won’t you?”

He didn’t offer you his pinky this time, but you figured that when he nodded his head in acceptance, he still meant it as a promise.

taglist (comment/send an ask/dm to be added): @rinisfruity14 @c4ttheart @blacky-rose @shizko @marsbars09 @happyplaidpersonfestival @catborglar @camilleverreault @nerdybouquetofkittens-blog @lovialy @heart4hees @stefnarda @ioonatv

[michanvalentine]

So, I started my second playthrough as Astarion. Partly because I wanted to try romance with Shadowheart (I'm not sure I would have succeeded with the vampire available at the camp, lol), partly because I wanted to understand Astarion's character even more deeply. Fortunately, having already played the game I'm going significantly faster (and therefore my husband probably won't ask for a divorce). At the moment I don't want to talk about this second experience of mine, but only express some of my reflections regarding the character of Astarion. I certainly won't say anything new, but bear with me, I'm of a certain age and I only finished the game recently! xD

Astarion: It's not fair, darling, I wanted to be the only one holding knives to other people's throats!

Browsing the web I often read that Astarion is evil. I think instead that judging him is all too easy, if we consider his vulnerabilities. And yes, that's exactly what it's about: vulnerability. Because Astarion doesn't have the means to defend himself or approach the world in a way that we would consider healthy. For example, Tav/Durge could easily take advantage of him and Astarion would let him do it, which is uniquely sad (spare me, I only saw it on YouTube, I would never dream of doing something like that to him). As much as he tries to disguise it with his charm and his sharp tongue, Astarion is a victim. At the beginning of the game he still thinks and acts as if he had never left Cazador's pleasure chambers, despite the freedom he has gained. One of the very first things he does is prostitute himself for Tav/Durge's favor, hell! And if they wants, Tav/Durge can act towards him as a surrogate master who decides for him (what he can or cannot eat, whether or not to bite the perverted blood merchant, etc); and, again, Astarion will let them do it, because he is used to it that way. And when things go differently, he is surprised and doesn't know how to react. Astarion knows nothing else. He is literally incapable of anything else. Cazador himself says it, in a truly chilling way. Because it's damn true. And sad. In the mind of the abuser, the one who created and shaped him, it is clear as day: without a figure to refer to, for better or for worse, Astarion does not know what to do with his life. Not anymore. Not after Cazador made him his obedient puppet. For 200 fucking years. In fact, Cazador is certain that without the presence of Tav/Durge (the alternative) Astarion will return home to him. Even if it means sinking into a nightmare again. Or even die. Because Astarion has nothing and no one out there for him. And it's such a real concept that it breaks my heart, because even in real life abusers scorch earth around those who are unfortunate enough to end up in their clutches. So that they can never escape from them.

Astarion: I mean... five minutes ago I was in the kennel... and now I have to save the world without even a bit of therapy?!?! Of cooourse, what fun!!!

Yes, Astarion was once a magistrate. And no, not a corrupt magistrate; there is no evidence of this in the game and as far as I know the old concept for his character has been discarded. On the other hand, I have the clear feeling that he was a rather severe and intransigent magistrate, yes, which may have led him to the tragic night of the attack by the Gur. In any case, the person he once was is dead and buried. Cazador took it. Eradicated in 200 years of torture and replaced with another existence: the vampiric one. And we know well what the rules of vampiric society are: Vellioth passed them on to Cazador and Cazodor to Astarion. So the magistrate (with all his wealth of experience) is no longer a part of him that Astarion can appeal to extricate himself from the complexity of the situations he suddenly finds himself experiencing, free from the control of his master. The boy doesn't even remember what color his eyes were anymore! And that's why he is completely defenseless. And scared. Even the possibility of finally being able to decide causes him deep anxiety.

By defenseless I mean that he does not have the skills (or at least a shred of self-esteem) to manage relationships or situations in an adequate and healthy way, let's be clear. Therefore on many occasions he acts or reacts (and it is how he behaves, let's underline it, not what he is) selfishly or even cruelly. Often just to give himself a tone and not always feel miserable as usual.

So I wonder if someone who has just begun to live again, to rediscover the world and himself, can be called evil. At the end of his quest Astarion himself will declare in front of his tomb that he must figure out who he is and what he wants. So the Astarion we met at the beginning can't be the real Astarion, right? It cannot and must not be the Astarion on which to base an objective judgement. Not to mention that being evil and performing evil acts are two completely different things. Wyll is a good guy, yet he made a deal with a devil, for example. In extreme situations even the kindest and most sensitive person in the world could find themselves carrying out controversial actions. None of us will ever know what we are capable of, for better or for worse, until we find ourselves in similar situations.

If we then consider the context in which the character of Astarion moves, I wonder more about why there is such a stir. In Faerûn killing, threaten or deceiving are the order of the day. For everyone, including heroes. Lady Ailyn is literally a beacon of hope, a demigoddess daughter of a good deity, yet she can be terrifying. The way she punishes the wicked is inhumane, violent. Outraging the body of the downed enemy is not a good deed. It even goes beyond punishing the evil one in question. For us in the real world it is a crime punishable by law. For her it's a personal matter, of course, we know this from her story. So why can't Astarion enjoy violence and blood? He is a vampire, he cannot eradicate certain instincts. And it's great to hear him say it in his own voice, point out the hypocrisy and the double standards: "It turns out no one actually cares about murder, as long as you murder the right people." And after 200 years of impotence, tasting power and enjoying it seems to me at least the least. Of course, it's not a good thing when it comes to bending others to your will. But, as stated, carrying out an evil action (or boasting about it, because Astarion often barks and doesn't bite) does not necessarily mean being evil.

Astarion: I see you there, stumbling. Pathetic. Leave room for the professional, who better than a rogue can move lightly on the thin line between good and evil?

I think that saying Astarion is evil is completely flattening his character. People are not that simple, nor are circumstances or where we come from. At the beginning of the journey he behaves like an asshole, yes, and exceeds in his base instincts which he must learn to control. But he is willing and able to learn and that makes all the difference in the world. Of course this depends on Tav/Durge, on the player himself, the only one who can show him another way. Or not.

I also add another consideration; and I get involved too because I'm human and not a saint. In living everyday life we ​​are much more similar to the character of Astarion than to the classic hero. In small things, of course, we mind our own business, we try to avoid trouble, we compete with others to achieve a goal to the detriment of competitors, we don't risk our lives for complete strangers, at most we call the police; effectively letting someone else deal with it. All this while having a normal life, without having to fight for survival. We lie, we talk badly about someone behind their back, we hurt the people around us. Then maybe we'll apologize... but I'll tell you a secret: Astarion is also capable of doing it! So I wonder if sometimes it's so easy to be so hard on him because in him we see the worst traits of human beings, our worst traits. The ones we reject. Just as Astarion is harsh towards those who share his same fate, because: "I just... I never want to see these little scraps of misery again. The world doesn't need to know my shame."

To top it off, the game and interactions change depending on how the player approaches their adventure. The choices I made in my heroic playthrough probably led me to see a part of Astarion that was decidedly human and not very monstrous. And despite my heroic (and rhetorical, lol) acts, his approval was always pretty high. Let's say I had fun defeating him with my patience, unconditional trust and so much kindness. I will never forget his line at the brothel: "Eugh, dont' be so nice to me! It makes me want to be nice back." Priceless.

[bookishfeylin]

I know you don't usually do these kinds of posts, but you're probably one of the most implicated in black history month people that I follow so I wanted to ask you, as I already value your opinions in Acotar, what do you think of the documentary where actual historians claim Cleopatra was a black woman? Lately, this has been a pretty active topic on my fyp on TikTok, and I wanted to know a black woman's perspective on this.

Thank you in advance, and if you usually don't answer these questions or don't want to answer this one, I'll totally understand, and there's no problem at all.

I didn’t know there was a new documentary out, but when I saw the name Cleopatra I automatically sighed because I knew what was coming. This is a subject a know a little 🤏🏾 about, actually, because I researched it a bit myself in my last year of high school (and stopped because of the uh. NASTINESS associated with this particular subject) and though it’s been a few years I remembered some main, basic things, and I wanted to check a few things first.

At best, in the most CHARITABLE interpretation as far as I in my limited knowledge can tell, it would be correct to say that’s it’s POSSIBLE that she MAY have been mixed Black because, though she was part of the GREEK Ptolemaic dynasty that ruled Egypt (Ptolemy being one of Alexander the Great’s generals who got the Egyptian portion of his empire after Alexander died), that’s on her fathers side; her mother’s exact ethnicity isn’t known. Not that this won’t stop the hoteps from running off and claiming her and all of ancient Egypt as Black though So some have ***speculated*** that her mother—and thus Cleopatra—may have potentially been part Egyptian (and that goes into the issue of deciding that the “Egyptian” in this instance had to have been Black rather than MENA but that’s again a whole other can of worms). BUT it’s more likely that her mother was Greek due to the uh, PRACTICE™️ of inbreeding and it not being common for the dynasty to marry Egyptians. So it’s more probable that she was fully Greek/Macedonian and not part Egyptian, much less part Black. (Also some historians speculate she may have had Persian blood? I guess? Again it’s a can of worms, not something i’m digging deep into because of the nastiness that you often stumble across) Unless there’s a new study confirming her mother’s identity or something that I missed, it’s simply incorrect to claim that Cleopatra was undeniably Black, because though it is ***possible*** she most likely ***wasn’t.***

But this topic really upsets me, because there are LEGITIMATE Black kingdoms and empires who were mighty and well developed and powerful like the Aksumite empire and kingdoms of Kongo and Loango and the Great Zimbabwe empire and the empires of Ghana and Mali and Songhay and the Ashanti kingdom and the WHOLE SWAHILI COAST THAT WAS INVOLVED IN THE INDIAN OCEAN TRADE ROUTE and they had their own great rulers, their own kings and queens and emperors and empresses, their palaces and castles, their own cities and towns, their own complex civilizations and dynastic royal families that deserve the attention Cleopatra and ancient Egypt get. They were erased—and Egypt was not—by white people to prop themselves up as the only race capable of forming civilizations and advanced societies as a means of justifying colonization and imperialism to “civilize” the rest of the world and as a result many of those other empires have been erased from our education system here in the states and many people cling to ancient Egypt as proof that we’re not inferior and aren’t savages like white people claim due to believing that since Egypt’s in Africa it had to have been mostly Black when Egypt, and the Ptolemaic dynasty and Cleopatra in PARTICULAR, are literally the worst example that could’ve been chosen and were the only African kingdom spared erasure FOR A REASON.

Anyway, I don’t like it, it’s disingenuous and does US wrong because we need to give that energy to other African kingdoms that need and could use the fame Egypt + Cleopatra get, and we deserve a better education system to teach us this stuff. I hope this answers your question? And I don’t mind any kinds of asks 🥰