#additionally you don't have to read all the fics if you don't want to

[radioromantic-moved]

NYX'S LIBRARY OF GAY SHIT

every (completed) self ship fic i've ever written babey!!! there will be a link to this on my carrd in a little bit. don't worry it's not the full text of every single thing under the keep reading it's just links. i promise

EYE OF THE STORM (DELLA X NYX)

untitled reunion (i'll level with you guys this one is old and probably embarrassing. but in the interest of posterity it's here)

SOMEONE WILL REMEMBER US IN THE FUTURE (THETIS X XENO! THEY HAVE A NAME NOW!)

the sea and those who love it (i haaaate this dialogue i cannot write anything old-fashionedy without sounding like a cringy roleplayer!! also this is technically not complete it was supposed to be like a multichapter thing but it works like this so. it's fine)

YOUR ANNUAL ENTREPRENEUR (FRANK X NYX)

"ray of sunshine" (unfortunately i think maybe i think all of my old shit is a little cringe. this is fine i hope it's fine. aged only a little poorly.)

DOOR TO NOWHERE (HELEN X NYX)

ode to a modern meneleus (this one still fucks. written when i was real sad about her canon death.)

nothing worth loving isn't askew (the longest completed self ship fic i have Ever Written! light body horror in chapter 5, general creepy shit throughout but filtered through the perspective of a protagonist who deals with scary shit through humor. this thing is a Beast it's over 50 pages and i've never shown it in its entirety to anyone before. this feels a little like sending your firstborn child off to school.)

not a fic but! her ship playlist :)

FOLIE‏‏‎ ‎A‏‏‎ ‎DEUX (CYTREX. JESUS CHRIST.)

tw for alcoholism or at least the suggestion of it for everything here

an awful realization fic (how this wretched bullshit all got started)

another awful realization fic (the sequel...briefly suggestive but not on purpose and it's incredibly awkward and terrible for all involved)

whatever this is. (okay i was struggling with intrusive thoughts and having a really bad evening and i needed to comfort myself somehow and listen. listen. listen. did it make me feel better? yes. i don't have a defense on this one. your honor there are worse coping mechanisms...)

drabblecember 3 (not very explicitly romantic but perhaps that is a good thing.)

barstool operatic (has never seen the light of day before! this is a little like sending your secondborn child off to school but they still haven't learned it's not okay to bite people and you're worried you will have to attend a parent teacher meeting. conflicts a little with the canon of the first fic on the list though it doesn't necessarily conflict with the second. genuinely one of the best fanfics i've ever written i just wish it wasn't. well. for this.)

they have a playlist too

COBRA LILY (BERNTIGONE. SO WE DON'T HAVE TO END ON THAT)

drabblecember 1 (sadly the only completed fic i have of them as of right now but i like it the best out of the 3 drabblecembers so it's okay)

one more playlist for the road!

MOTH TO A FLAME (MOSS X NYX ALMOST FORGOT)

drabblecember 2 (still don't Love this one but i may have been too hard on it before. i still want to develop my‏‏‎ ‎monprom‏‏‎ ‎s/i‏‏‎ ‎more they're too generic right now)

[haxkattpress]

Our Objective Remains Unchanged by @citrusses

"Harry Potter, returning member of the Oxford University Boat Club, has two goals for the spring of 2005: beat Cambridge, and beat Draco Malfoy. Perhaps not in that order."

This has to be one of the most creative and meticulously researched fics I have ever had the pleasure of reading. If you haven't read it yet, don't walk— run! Citrusses is an absolute genius, and kindly gave me permission to bind her masterpiece.

The cover of this bind is made out four different shades of Allure bookcloth cut by my Cameo 4, and the centerpiece is printed and hand foiled. The banners were machine foiled in gold and black with hand foiled rose gold shading. The endbands were hand sewn with Gutermann silk thread.

You can find more pictures and information about my process under the cut.

The amount of inspiration this fic gave me was overwhelming, and Citrusses' writing fully immersed me in the world of competitive rowing. While designing this bind, I was struck by the sheer wealth of Oxford rowing memorabilia available to me. I settled on this 1929 illustration from an official publication on the Oxford and Cambridge Centenary Boat Race for the cover.

"How hard could it possibly be?" I thought, foolishly. The answer was HARD, but I'll get into that later.

Due to the wealth of design options, I believe that this may be the best typeset I have created to date. Thanks to the help of my friend @tsurashi-bindery, I was able to learn the basics of InDesign (kicking and screaming all the way). There will be spoilers in the text of these photos, so try not to read them if you haven't finished the fic!

For the title page, I modified To See the Crews in Training by Charles Pears (1930). I believe that this was part of a series of advertisements for the race in the London Underground.

For the chapter headers, I redrew the crest from an Oxford Oars, Flags, and Arms postcard, presumably pre 1914. I also had some fun creating a mock email using La_Temperanza's How to Mimic Email Windows on Ao3. Cormac's email makes me laugh every time I read it, and Citrusses provided an appropriately pompous subject.

I also had lots of fun editing the oars from the official OUBC logo to serve as dividers and decorations for the page numbers.

Additionally, I got to edit a full newspaper page for the fic! I was very excited find an opportunity to slip Leyendecker's The Finish (1908) in.

The fic ended beautifully, so I wanted to include one last element at the end to capture the atmosphere. I settled on L'aviron (1932) by Milivoj Uzelac. It makes me feel as though Harry and Draco will continue rowing together long after I've closed the book.

I of course had lots of fun sewing the headbands, and got to do it with not one but TWO copies!

Things got tricky when I had to recreate the cover. I had a poor understanding of how vector images worked, and ended up having to redraw it three times. Once I finally cracked and taught myself how to use Illustrator, the program crashed...and I had to redraw it a fourth time!

I set the vector to cut on my Cameo 4, and I assembled the pieces together like a puzzle on my Silhouette mat. I used Allure's indigo, skylight, white, and black bookcloth in the process. I will be making a tutorial video on this method, so I will keep it brief here.

I also cut a piece of bookcloth to 8.5"x 11" and fed it through my inktank printer to print the center design. I then cut it out using the print and cut feature on my Cameo 4. Both of these methods were a first for me, and they were very scary!!

To be perfectly frank, the foiling was a nightmare and I don't want to get into it. I machine foiled the gold, and then foiled black lettering on top of it. I foiled the rose gold shading by hand, and then foiled a thin black outline along the edge of the banners to make them stand out more.

I hand foiled the spines (because I'm scared of measuring), painted the exposed board (to hide any gaps in the inlays), and used transfer tape to lift my design from the Silhouette mat and onto the cover.

One more fun detail— my copy and the author's copy are sisters! The dark blue and the light blue are inverted on the author's copy, making it distinguishable from mine. This is the first time I have made an author's copy for a fic, and I was admittedly incredibly nervous. I always worry about what authors will think of my work, but Citrusses gave me an incredible amount of encouragement and support throughout the process! Thank you for trusting me with your precious fic!

This story is a work of fanfiction and can be read on Ao3 for free. My bind and typeset are for personal use only and not for sale or profit. Keep fandom free!

[buntanteen]

svt fic recs list <3 - yjh, hjs & lee chan - sfw ver.

reader insert fics!! though, lots of these are ot13 writings, i am specifically recommending the jeonghan, joshua and dino sections!

✩ svt writing & fic rec masterlist ✩

note: i haven't made a fic rec list since i was a teen lol. i'm gonna try do 13 recs per list (cuz that's how many members are in seventeen :3) i've added my mini thoughts and i'm going to add lil song recs too!! these lists are partially for me to look back on too :d

✩ yoon jeonghan ✩

❥ jeonghan boyfriends habits - @odxrilove

*sobs in cute lil domestic actions* shut up i LOVE having my hair played with and attention on me and physical touch that isn't necessarily affection and yapping and being playful ahhh

❥ bf!jeonghan headcanons - @etherealyoungk

this is exactllyyyy the kind of s/o i want raaaaaaaaaaaa. teasing, playful, sweetheart, pouty, mature and a listener. this made me smile soooo much

✩ hong joshua ✩

❥ joshua boyfriend habits - @odxrilove

*cries in physical touch and acts of service* mORE hair touching??? are you trying to speak to my heart😭 shua really said "my handbag is your waist" (just one day by bts reference) with that last one*

❥ bf!joshua scenarios - @etherealyoungk

*punches wall in chef shua making reader breakfast* he's just such a sweetieeee. the intentional quality time is something i can sooo see him doing

✩ lee chan/dino ✩

❥ dino boyfriend habits - @odxrilove

*cries in physical touch and acts of service pt.2* as a shy person, i love when my friends order for me (or when there's a qr code lol) i think i'd pass out if someone pulled me by the loop of my jeans kjfdbdfb

✩ ot13 works (yjh, hjs & lee chan sections) ✩

❥ seventeen as boyfriends - @catboyieejeno

super cute, lengthy and detailed for all members! i was swooning and giggling over each of them hehe~

jeonghan's bits of physical affection coupled with noise effects highkey make my heart soar idk whyyy

shua being a gentleman but bro i'll be one right back at you >:)) skincare nights??? as a skincare girly i would loveeee that ahhh

hAND HOLDING WITH CHANNIE GRRR. i love when people listen to me yap (my friend listened to me yap about svt today haha). i agree with that last bit about chan giving confidence and reassurance. he already does that for me as a fan, so it would be amplified by 990211x~

❥ seventeen when you reject their kiss (as a prank) - @emocheol

hannie was such a little shit. of cOURSE he'd be dramatic and do a 180 on the situation so reader is being pranked

shua's reaction was so hot. it was a mature approach to the situation and my brain started barking kjgbkfa

chan's killed me. this poor kid is trying his best jgfdkb

additionally, hoshi and jihoon's made me tear up a bit :,) they're so precious to me

❥ sharing the bed with seventeen - @emocheol

jeonghan. let. me. spoon. you >:((( (i just wanna cuddle him)

cackled at the absurdity of joshua's with full acknowledgement that him reading to me would make me fall asleep lmao

oh no...dino...we'd both kick each other off the bed

❥ matchy-matchy with seventeen - @lovingseventeen

wanna play with jeonghan's hair so baddd. i used to do my and my friend's hair so much as a kid

i don't really wear rings, BUT FOR SHUA I CAN TRY!! (kinda want a ring like svt does in honour of them?! idk tho)

chan and i are gonna pull up in comfy matching set fits yeahhhh

❥ you ask to leave lipstick stains on their face - @gi4hao

getting lipstick stains back from hannie?? fuck yeahhh

flirty shua *blushes and kicks blanket*

damn, dino sounds like he's in heavennnn (he's soooo down bad lmao)

❥ things they left with you before leaving for tour - @seuonji

jeonghan being thorough and specific and intentional with his shirt choices

joshie writing letters arghhhhh. as someone who loves to write letters to friends (via text or on physical cards) this really speaks to my heart

channie's is sooo fucking thoughtful and i freaking love snacks and quality time at a distance is difficult so i love this ahhh

❥ svt when they’re clingy - @gyuslcve

jeonghan's AHHH. how am i supposed to say no to himmm🥺🥺

shua...hE'S SO SOFTTTT HNGHHGHG. back hugs are so niceee ahhh

spooning? forehead kisses? hand holding?!!?! with dino?!?! yess pls :,)

❥ hyper/calm dynamics - @cxffecoupx

calm reader, calm jeonghan. low energy us just chillingg

all of the above reader & shua. fuck yeah. i tend to adapt my energy to the situation, so chaos can unleash whenever heh :3

hyper reader, calm chan. i will look at him with equal parts embarrassment and endearment haha

additionally: i would hype the shit out of hoshi. no one would never handle us grrrrr ఇ◝‿◜ఇ

mini message from me: thank you for reading!! stay cool or warm wherever you're at!! take care of yourselves and treat yourselves to something yummyyyy~ ς(.>‿<)

ames' song recs: serendipity by bts (jimin), heaven by rm, same dream same mind same night by seventeen (vocal unit), yes or no by jungkook & our summer by txt

taglist: no one yet, but if y'all would like to be on it, pls comment :))

[ceilidho]

This is in no way of hating but i want to know why do you enjoy writing noncon/rape? When I first downloaded tumblr which was couple of months ago i was surprised by the amount of noncon fics here. I eventually came to enjoy them which makes me question myself. Whenever i read a noncon fic and enjoy it i feel like im betraying women who actually went through those traumatic events. Plus I actually don't really like dark romance books? I love cod dead dove and that is mainly because i really love the characters and the authors are so talented. I rambled so much and i hope you don't get this in the wrong way i don't mean to hate AT ALL i love the stuff you write. Maybe i shouldn't think too much and let myself enjoy what im reading lol

first of all, no worries! i wasn't sure about your tone/intentions at first, but by the end i was totally fine with the question.

i actually don't mind talking about this stuff - i just sometimes avoid it on main because i prefer chatting about it privately.

second, i'm no psychologist or sociologist, so i probably won't be able to give you the most satisfactory answer, but i think there are a lot of different reasons. i can only name a few. one thing i should mention right off the bat is that rape fantasies are very normal (and this is true whether you're a survivor of SA or not) and writing/reading fiction can be a safe way to process those thoughts/feelings.

one of prevailing reasons is, of course, that many survivors of SA use noncon/dubcon literature/art as a way of processing their experiences and taking ownership of their trauma.

and look, people are going to go back and forth on this point (i've seen it all before - many people refuse to believe that engaging with noncon lit/art is helpful, and in fairness, it's NOT helpful for everyone because every person is different), but at the end of the day, if a survivor tells you "writing/reading this was helpful in my recovery" then that's that!

additionally, for many women and non-binary folk (i can only speak as a cis woman, but i'm sure this is a shared lived experience across many different people), we're also taught from a very young age to suppress our sexual desires / that being open about our sexuality is morally reprehensible and shameful. and a lot of people carry that shame for years, impacting them well into adulthood. so dubcon/noncon fantasies can be a way of being able to enjoy sexual scenarios where you don't have to be the initiator, thus taking away some of the emotional weight and shame.

plus, at the end of the day (and im sure many people will disagree with this take, it's something that i'm still figuring out myself), there is a kind of weird underlying consent implicit in dark fics. like, you might be reading a fic or novel that's ostensibly noncon, but you're also actively seeking out that literature (hopefully it's not just sprung on you - i do very much agree with tagging to the fullest extent and my lukewarm take is that I think all books, even traditionally published ones, should come with content/trigger warnings too).

there are a medley of reasons why someone might write or read dark fiction/dark romance. again, i'm just one person and i can only speak from my own experience!

i think at the end of the day, the important thing to realize is that fiction is fake, and as long as the writer appropriately tags their work and ensures that the audience is aware of what they're getting into when they start reading, they're not coercing the reader into something they aren't prepared for.

and it's totally fine if you have limits (like, you can read and enjoy dubcon, but not noncon) or can't engage with the material at all, but it's also unfair to say that it reflects someone's real life values - the same way that we don't say that the people who enjoy crime fiction must love murder.

and the last thing i want to say because this got a bit out of hand lol, is that, yes, for some people dark fiction is genuinely harmful, whether or not they're a survivor. it's not for everyone and that's completely fine and i'm aware of that, which is why i agree that you should tag as much as possible (even if you feel like you're overdoing it sometimes), but someone else's discomfort doesn't give them the right to tell you how to process your own emotions/experiences/desires/etc.

as long as no one's getting hurt, there's no issue as far as i'm concerned. and sorry but, no one's getting hurt by reading a fic or a novel unless the author didn't give proper content warnings - if you "forgot" to read the tags or read anyway DESPITE being warned, im sorry but that's life.

[si1verghosts]

Hi!

3. A kiss on the forehead😌

helloooo dear anon!! i am sorry this took so long i could not for the life of me figure out to write but then ! i wrote this on the 4th and i realized it could work... maybe... sorta. this may not be what you were expecting/wanting but there's forehead kisses in there.... somewhere 🫡 also, if u are not american i apologize for giving you a july 4th fic 😭 but the holiday is relatively inconsequential here like theres no patriotism it's just a backdrop if u know what i mean.... anyway, i hope u enjoy <33

you taste like the 4th of july

di leon s. kennedy x fem reader (no use of y/n)

wc: 3.5k

18+ | cw: mentions of drinking | tw: thoughts about death and dying

tags: established relationship; fluff (i guess??); slight changes to canon to suit author's headcanons

read on ao3

a/n: for the past few months i've been working on this very insane multi-chap post di leon fic 😵‍💫 this was written with that in mind But does not have a place in that story... probably.... idk!!! either way, i think it can be read as a standalone just fine

additionally, there is a scene in here where leon picks the reader up. i would just like to say like... he gets thrown into concrete walls on a biweekly basis and gets up and walks it off without issue so i think he can lift anyone no matter their size or shape!!

not beta read or proofread - sorry if any of it is gibberish i've had a wicked migraine the past few days... will maybe attempt to proofread once i can see correctly again 🚬🧍‍♀️regardless, all mistakes are my own

i do not own leon or any other resi character mentioned, etc etc, please don't sue me <3

please do not use my work to train any sort of AI chatbot and/or writing generator.

-----

"It was a good day, wasn't it?" Leon asks, wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder as you stand over the patio table, cleaning up the abandoned plates and platters.

You hum. It was; a beautiful, cloudless July 4th, spent with Leon's friends in the backyard of your home. The only ones missing were Ashley and Ingrid; the former having a standing family commitment and the latter planning to spend her holiday on the beach, away from the country and your fiancé.

Typically, Chris hosted the Independence Day cookout, but Leon offered up your new home as this year's venue, citing your in-ground pool and the plenty of extra space you have for guests to stay. In reality, he just wanted the chance to out-grill Chris - he'd been preparing since Memorial Day; testing different spice and sauce combinations as well as stocking your freezer full of large cuts of meat.

He'd started before you were even awake, chopping and seasoning in the kitchen, slowly loading up the smoker. You'd joined him on the patio a few hours later, watching from your pool floaty as he poked and prodded at various things.

You don't even eat meat, didn't know the whole thing was so involved, but you did enjoy the view; worn blue jeans hugging his frame as he crouched to check a thermometer.

You had taken a short break from the water, tying up lights and setting a few little decorations around before your guests arrived. Rebecca was the first, tucking her jugs of pre-made cocktail and platter of deviled eggs into your fridge before joining you on the patio.

Chris wasn't far behind, unloading two coolers filled with beer and containers of homemade potato and pasta salads. He'd handed one off to you, grinning, "Claire made one just for you this year."

You'd thanked him, making another attempt to get him to share his family's recipes with you. It was futile, you probably couldn't even waterboard it out of either of them.

Claire had arrived on her motorcycle shortly after, pulling a bundle of fireworks out of her saddlebags. "Sorry I'm late," she said - even though she wasn't - dumping the pile on the ground, thankfully far away from the grill. "Had to stop for these."

Leon had crouched down to inspect them, listening intently as Claire told him about all the different varieties she'd purchased while you relaxed back into the pool.

Sherry arrived next, Jake trailing behind her. She'd left both him and her bags of chips at the table, giving Leon and Claire quick hugs before immediately joining you in the water.

She'd slipped in right beside your floaty, grabbing your hand to get a look at your engagement ring - she'd yet to see it, having been so busy with work. Her eyes widened at the ring as she pushed her sunglasses up to rest on top of her head, "Leon picked this out? Our Leon? Leon Kennedy? Are you sure?"

You'd giggled at her astonishment, "Ashley helped him out; took him to one of her favorite jewelers."

"I should've guessed," She nods. "For my 20th Birthday, he bought me this crazy cute pink tennis bracelet and I was like, 'no way you picked this out alone.' He fessed up that he got a little help from a friend named Ashley.

"At the time, I thought it was just some girlfriend - or hoped, I guess. Back then, I spent a lot of time hoping that Claire and Leon weren't just… working; I liked to think they were taking time for themselves, that they were happy," she had trailed off then, looking off to the tree line behind your house for a minute. Blinking the mist from her eyes, she shrugged, continuing on, "Anyways, I'm thankful to Ash for that bracelet, it was there with me though… a lot. And I'm thankful to you for making him happy, like I always wanted him to be."

With that, you slid off the float to give her a hug, holding her tight as you whispered your thanks. You had worked to bite back your tears - if she didn't cry, neither would you.

Luckily, Jill had walked in a few seconds later, providing a distraction in the form of the most ridiculously large watermelon. "Hey, Kennedy," she shouted, pulling Leon out of his conversation with Claire as she gestured to the melon tucked under her arm. "Can't burn this, can I?"

Leon had thrown his head back with a laugh - in previous years, Jill had always brought boxed brownies with extra crispy edges and Leon invariably had to make a comment about them. "I don't know," he had shrugged, "When it comes to you, Valentine, I'll never say never."

Jill had reared the watermelon back, acting as if she was going to throw it at him. Leon had thrown his arms up, shielding his face, causing everyone to crumble into laughter at the scene.

"It was nice," you agree, reaching to pick up the barong machete he had given Jill when she asked for a knife to cut the melon. "We do have kitchen knives, you know," you scold mockingly, gently waving the blade around.

"I know," he says, releasing you to reach around and pluck the machete out of your hand. "It's good to exercise these every once in a while, though."

You roll your eyes at him, "It's a machete, Leon, not a horse."

He waves you off, slipping through the patio door to wash the blade in the kitchen sink. You take the opportunity to speed clean, knowing it'll be a much harder task once he returns and wraps his arms back around you.

Thankfully everyone had taken care of their own plates and cups - they'd tried to stay and do more but you had ushered them out of the backyard, wanting Chris, Sherry and Jake to depart before the traffic picked up with the crowds leaving the city following the fireworks shows. Jill, Claire and Rebecca had taken up on your offer to stay, at least, piling into your guest rooms. You were glad to have them, secretly plotting to drag them to brunch once you all woke.

You finish piling the platters as Leon makes his way back outside. Before he can get his hands on you and derail your progress, you point to the stack, "Take those inside."

He frowns, "Can't it just wait until tomorrow?"

"We'll get ants; come on, five minutes and it'll be done."

He sighs, but doesn't protest further, carrying the heavy plates inside as you follow him with the utensils. You stack everything by the sink before turning to him, "Is there any of Becca's cocktail left?"

He cocks his brow, tilting his head, "You really want to try that again?"

It's a valid question - you had given it a go earlier and despite everyone's warnings to take it easy, you had thrown back a large mouthful right off the bat. You ended up wincing in pain, "Fuck, that burns. What'd you put in there, Becca?"

She'd shrugged, "Oh, you know, a splash of this, a splash of that. And," she teased, drawing out the vowel, "A bit of my own creation."

"Your own creation…" You had muttered, trailing off before it hit you, "Test tube alcohol?"

She had giggled, grinning, "Takes some getting used to."

You had tried another, much tinier sip. You were able to enjoy the sweetness of the juice for a moment before the burn kicked in again, causing you to curse once more, louder.

Leon had shifted his attention from Chris to you at your exclamation. Seeing the jug of Rebecca's cocktail in front of you on the table, he quickly pieced together what was happening, calling over to Rebecca from his place by the grill, "You trying to kill my fiancé, Becks?"

"Absolutely not; that'd be a stupid thing for me to do," she'd shot back. "She's the only one who can keep you in line, and we kind of like you like that."

"Well," you start, rolling the word around your mouth, "No. But yes - there's gotta be some sort of trick to it, right? Everyone else drank it just fine."

"The trick is," he starts, voice low, reaching out to grab ahold of your hips, "To not drink it. Let me make you some tea instead."

"Fine," you pout, relaxing into his grip, not bothering to argue - tea won't make you hate yourself in the morning.

He moves his hands from your hips, sliding his fingertips along your spine. "Go wait outside," he says, releasing you with a featherlight kiss to your forehead, "I'll bring it out."

With a brush of your lips against his cheek in thanks, you slip away from him, heading back out to the backyard and pulling off your shorts, settling onto the ledge of the shallow end of the pool. The air has cooled with the setting of the sun, becoming a comforting warmth instead of an overbearing heat. You dip your legs into the water, thankful you insisted on having a pool when you and Leon were house hunting.

Someone is still setting off fireworks; they're a few miles away, though - you can hear them more than you can see them. Resting back on your palms, you close your eyes, imagining what bursts of color may be accompanying each sound.

Leon joins you a few minutes later - just after the fireworks had died down - sporting his swim shorts and carrying your tea. He bends, setting the mug next to you with a kiss to your temple, nosing at your hair. "Earl Grey," he reports before drawling, "How terribly unpatriotic of you."

"You going to arrest me for treason, Agent Kennedy?" You laugh, reaching up to squeeze his thigh below the hem of his shorts. "You're the one who made it; they'd nail you as an accomplice."

He falls into a crouch, leg muscles bunching under the pads of your fingertips as he shifts closer to touch his lips on your cheek. "They can hang us together, then," he remarks, voice a bit too serious for it to be just a joke. "Side by side, off the same branch."

You sit back just enough to get your eyes focused on him, reaching your other hand out to thumb at his bottom lip. "Dulce et decorum est pro cor mori," you whisper, tacking on a hum in question.

He cocks his head at the unfamiliar words, nipping at your nail playfully, "English please, baby."

You consider him for a moment, the translation of the true phrase running through your mind; how sweet and honorable it is to die for one's country. The old lie, it's come to be known as - fittingly.

It's a similar sentiment to one that's grown to become your fear; that he'll die for the sake of the country, under orders from the government, believing it was his duty.

But you think your spin on it may be true; would be willing to find out.

You don't want to weigh him down with the thought, though, choosing to reel him in for a kiss instead. "I love you," is the answer you settle on, laying the words down right on his tongue.

He seems content with your translation - the method of delivery likely having something to do with it - humming into your mouth. He kisses you back lazily for a long, languid moment before he pulls away, "As much as I'm enjoying this, I've been wanting to get in there all day," he says, nodding his head towards the water.

"Go," you chuckle, giving him a gentle push away from you with the hand still resting along his face.

He lays another quick peck against your lips before standing, padding around the edge to the steps. He pauses for a moment to pull his shirt over his head, skin honeyed under the soft glow of the lights you'd hung around the patio.

A second later, he slips under the surface without hesitation; kicking off the steps, moving quickly to the deep end. He almost shimmers as he glides along the floor of the pool, the rippling of the gentle waves he'd created making him seem like some sort of mirage as he passes by you.

He comes up for air once he hits the far wall, tossing his hair back, smoothing the water from his eyes. He doesn't rest long, though, beginning to swim short laps across the width of the deep end.

You observe him, sipping your tea slowly, appreciating the way his back and arms work with each stroke. He continues long enough for you to nearly drain your cup, stopping short when another trio of fireworks set off in the distance.

Setting your mug down, you eye him, preparing to slip into the pool to soothe him if you have to, but he relaxes once he connects the sound to the flashes in the sky. The tension that had flooded the line of his shoulders drains into the water as he shifts to wade backward, moving closer to where you sit.

You finish off your drink as he starfishes out across the surface of the water, floating just a few feet in front of you. You wonder if you could use him as a floaty, pinning up a note in your brain to try it out sometime.

"I'm glad you insisted on a pool, sweetheart," he sighs, breaking your companionable silence.

You hum, pleased, kicking your legs out gently and causing the water to lap against his skin. More fireworks sound out; he doesn't tense this time, but he does get his feet back under himself, moving to where you sit along the ledge.

Sliding his hands up your legs, he pillows his head in your lap, wet hair fanning out across your thighs. You shift your weight back onto your right hand, laying the other along his jaw. His eyes flutter closed as you brush your thumb along his cheekbone and the scar that runs beneath it.

He picks at the tie of your bathing suit absentmindedly, tugging at the strings when you slide your hand into his hair, scratching at his scalp. "Sherry said something to me earlier."

He makes a noise urging you to elaborate, not bothering to open his eyes.

"She told me that when she was younger, she hoped that you and Claire were living your lives; that you were doing more than just working, you know? She said she wanted you guys to be happy," you explain, working to keep your voice even.

He cracks his eyes open, picking his head up to watch you as you continue. "She thanked me," you swallow thickly, "for making you happy, like she always wanted you to be."

He smiles at your words, and it's a beautiful thing. You still get all twisted up inside with how gorgeous he is; neurons overclocking themselves with the thrill of being the subject of his attention.

"I owe you a thank you, too, baby," he starts, pausing to nose at your wrist.

"You don't owe me anything, Leon," you tug at his damp strands still between your fingers, highlights catching the yellow glow from the lights around the patio.

"I do," he says, the words sending a jolt through you. You never intended on getting married, yet here you are now, eager to hear the phrase on the altar.

He kisses the thin skin of your wrist, lips lingering as if he can feel the thrum of your heartbeat; knows that the pace has picked up under his affection. "All this," he pulls back, taking a hand off you to gesture to the pool; the backyard; the house; to you. "It's something I never thought I'd get.

"Sherry's right - you're behind basically every bit of happiness I have now, sweetheart; I owe it all to you." He reaches up, untangling your grip from his hair, thumbing gently at the ring he put there, "Thank you."

You can't respond verbally, will burst into tears if you do. In lieu of speech, you lean forward, pressing your lips against his insistently.

He seems to get the message; understands that the pleasure is all yours, that you'd give him anything and everything you can - knowing he'd do the same for you.

He gets his arms back around you, continuing your kiss as he lifts you from the edge of the pool and into the water with him. You wrap your legs around his waist, safe and secure in his hold.

His teeth catch along your bottom lip and the neighbors down the street set off fireworks, the bright bursts of color painting your backyard in reds and blues and greens and oranges. The sparks reflect off the surface of the water as he slides his nose against yours and not for the first time, you think this may all be a dream. Maybe you died four years ago and this whole thing has been some sort of afterlife; you aren't sure you'd done anything worth this treatment, though.

Maybe it's more supernatural in origin; an intricate hallucination weaved by a Djinn that's got you chained up in some dark, damp basement as it feeds off your blood. Or maybe you just went crazy and the pool is actually a padded room, Leon's mouth against yours a product of your mind working to distract itself from your reality.

Whatever the case may be, it certainly feels real when he shifts his hold on you, hoists you up higher to get at your neck, laying kisses up and down the column of your throat, nipping at your jaw.

But before he can venture much further, the neighbor's fireworks show grows into an extravaganza, the relentless popping and bursting becoming a nuisance, shattering the illusion of your teeny-boppy movie moment.

"Jeez," Leon mutters, breath hot against the saliva cooling on your skin, causing you to shudder. "Did they buy out a whole tent?"

"Did you check that Claire actually went to bed?" You ask, shaking yourself free of his hold. "She could've joined them; brought everything I wouldn't let her set off here."

He hums, letting you down into the water, considering your words - even though you said it as a joke, it certainly is a possibility. You seem to come to this realization at the same time, eyes narrowing at each other as the spray of fireworks continues overhead. "We should…" He starts, nodding towards the stairs.

"Yeah," you agree, already beginning to move.

You pause to grab your towels, wrapping your own around yourself, throwing the other over Leon's shoulders when you catch up to him at the patio door. Stepping inside, you hear someone knocking around your kitchen.

Luckily, it's Claire. She steps back from the cabinet she'd been rifling through to face you and Leon with a frown. "Isn't this shit ridiculous?" She remarks, pointing to the ceiling in reference to the fireworks.

"You're one to talk, Claire," Leon shoots back. "Didn't you just set off about five hundred dollars worth of them in my backyard a few hours ago?"

"Yes, a few hours ago," she reiterates. "Nothing should be set off after the show at the Capitol is finished - after that, you're done; you missed your shot; better luck next year."

"Exactly," you nod in agreement at her reasoning, "They should put you in charge."

She grins at your words, moving to continue on, but Leon cuts in before she can start; "What is it that you were clawing through my cabinets for?"

She sighs, displeased with his interruption, setting her hands on her hips. "Where do you keep the ibuprofen?"

Leon shoos her out of the way, padding across the kitchen to get the medicine himself. Claire relents without argument, attention immediately shifting back to you as she leans over the counter. "So," she wiggles her eyebrows, "It seems like that pool was a good investment, huh?"

You bite at your lip, ears burning with embarrassment that she'd seen you and Leon necking in the water like teenagers - even though you shouldn't be flustered; it is your house, after all.

Leon sets the bottle of ibuprofen and a glass of water down in front of Claire, annoyance evident with the way he uses a bit more force than really necessary, causing the items to clack against the marble.

"What?" Claire questions, glaring at him. "It was cute."

Leon huffs in response, unable to hide the flush that crawls up his neck at her words. You can't help the giggle that bubbles out of you, enjoying the way they bicker like siblings.

Claire leaves Leon to stew, tossing you a grin as she collects the bottle and glass, bidding you goodnight once more before she leaves the kitchen.

You move around the counter to Leon, steps careful in an effort not to slip on the water that has dripped off him and onto the tile. The neighbors must've ran out of fireworks while you were distracted by Claire as it's silent when you wrap your arms around him, tucking your face into his neck. "Still a good day?" You ask, voice muffled against his skin.

He slings an arm around you, fingers fanning out along the small of your back, "Still a good day."

[grassyhorizon45]

Could you do a fic where y/n has did, but it doubting themselves and convincing themselves they don't have it? Or just more fics with did. I love reading them but I can't find very many

ok.. so this rotted my brain a little and ended up becoming maybe quite long :D srry in advanced for all the DID terms and such :3 pt 2 will come soon I promise.

Help.

part 1 || part 2 || part 3

Marauders x Y/n but she realises something a little different about herself and the insecurity starts to build.

Warnings: A small bit of yelling, mostly fluff...and a few big words :D

Words: 718

It was subtle at first…

“H-Huh? What do you mean potion class was yesterday?”

“How did I end up here again?”

Then the voices, occasional laughs no one else could hear—

“Siri, I'm h-hearing things again…”

Remus heard from across the room. “Again bunny?”  “That's not good, maybe we should talk to a professor about it?” Sirius suggested.

Y/n refused…… refused to alert the professors of her anomaly, refused to admit it was hindering her ability to function—

Refused to admit it bothered her a lot.

“I told you about the party three times already… What do you mean ‘I never mentioned anything about a party’??!”  James put a hand on Sirius's shoulder at the sight of Y/n tensing up. “Calm down Pads, there's no need to yell. 

Sirius took a deep breath, “I just… d-don't understand, love.” 

……I don't understand either. 

* * *

“I think I found an answer,” Remus said when they were hanging out in the boys’ room one day. 

“An answer?” asked James.  “To Y/n’s sudden… forgetfulness.”

“And the voices?” Y/n couldn't stop herself from blurting.  Remus smiled to himself proudly, “And the voices, bunny.” 

“You found the cause, Moons?” Sirius walked over to the boy whose nose was deep into his book, ruffling Remus’ light brown hair. 

“It's called Dissociative Identity Disorder…” 

“Disso- Wh-What?” Y/n couldn't catch the word. 

“A character in this book has it… He's very detached sometimes and he tends to forget events he and his friends witnessed; so kind of like you, bunny.” 

“D-Detached? D-Do I-?” James nodded at Y/n’s question. “Sometimes, baby.” 

“He talks to himself occasionally too,” Remus added about the character’s description. “The protagonist thinks it's schizophrenia, but the narrator says it's cause of the voices in his head–” 

“Imma stop you there, Moony,” Sirius butt-in as he saw the slight panic growing in Y/n's eyes.  “For one, how do we know if this ‘identity disorder’ thing isn’t something the author made up, and two, if our bunny actually has it. Additionally if so, what do we do about it?”

Sirius made a valid point, yet all Y/n's mind could cling on to was how accurate Remy’s fictional character resembled the things she was experiencing. 

“Baby, you okay?” James put a steady hand around her waist. 

Y/n blinked a few times, bringing herself back to the present. 

“Y-Yeah, I'm good,” she assured her three worried looking boyfriends. “C-Can you write the d-disorder down for me Remy? I think I'll hit the library.” 

“Why don't we pay the library a visit together? I'm down to crack this case,” said Sirius, eager to get started. 

“Sirius Orion Black wanting to visit the library?” James gasped sarcastically. “Never heard of it,” beamed Remus. 

Y/n giggled, “Okay, okay. You guys can come too.” 

* * *

Digging deeper into this so-called ‘Dissociative Identity Disorder’, there were subdiagnoses like OSDD: Other Specified Dissociative Disorder or just amnesia itself could be a possibility. 

Y/n's boyfriends all had their heads wrapped around learning things like multiple personalities, dissociative amnesia, headspace theory, and even causes of DID. 

“I d-don't even have ‘alters’......"

"Guys, it's not so important, we can just let it slide you know…” Y/n mumbled, hating the silence of endless research. 

“Plus Jamie, you have a match against Hufflepuff tomorrow… Shouldn't you practice?” 

“You're right,” James remembered. “I do have a match…” 

Remus shrugged, “Go ahead Prongs, we don't mind.” 

James said a quick thanks before hurrying off. Y/n turned to look at Sirius. The black haired was sprawled on the library table, snoring softly. 

Was never a bookworm that man, unlike Remus. 

“Rem, I think we should leave it,” Y/n said to him as he asked yet another ‘are you experiencing this’ question. 

“We just wanna help you figure this out bunny…” 

“I know… But it's not really a big deal and it's probably just me being forgetful and a touch of sleep deprivation anyways. Look, even Siri’s fast asleep… At least take a break, love?” 

“Alright.” 

It wasn't that Y/n didn't trust her significant others, nor was it really because she was tired. All she wanted was to shut off all possibilities that she could actually be mentally unstable, to make sure she wasn't being a walking ‘waste of time’.

Yet...

She couldn't shake the bugging thought that this whole thing was somehow a facade......

A trick her mind had orchestrated for attention...

...what?

[dinasfavslut]

LoserEllie x Fem!reader

a/n: This fic was supposed to come out in late August or early September, so I am a month late, and I'm sorry. I hope you enjoy it since I've spent a while on this (I started writing and never finished).

Warnings:smut 18+ Minors just dont interact, Smoking, Sexual thoughts, Cussing, Pet names, Teasing, Oral, Fingering, Slight mention of strap, Squirting

Everyone is aware that Ellie smokes; we have all seen it. Of course, there are also the dealer Ellie fics, which I absolutely love, but just picture Ellie making reader squirt for the first time while high!

Ellie calls you over for the "usual" hangout of smoking, fighting while playing the latest video game she purchased, exchanging lust-filled glances at each other, and taking turns going to the restroom to deal with your neediness so you don't pounce on one another. The typical predicament continues.

"Okay, how about a crash bandicoot?”

She places the joint between her soft pink lips and says, "I mean, it's whatever." Her fingers, god, her fingers, her hands, and how she flexes them after spending long hours writing or drawing, playing the guitar, rolling blunts and joints—you could go on and on...and on—is almost down to her fingers when she takes another drag.

You two have long been "friends." Everyone in town knows that you and Ellie are more than "just friends", but as far as the relationship goes, it isn't dating or just a friendship, and that kills you. You like Ellie; you really like her, and smoking enhances that feeling toward her. Additionally, it also helps to want to get pounded by her right on the couch.

She had already loaded the game and begun playing while you were still deep in thought. She was so engrossed in her game that you could see her thumbs and fingers pressing and moving the various buttons. "I'm going to get a snack, Els. You want something." She gave a brief glance over, not straining her head from facing the TV. Her gaze seemed to remain fixed on your body as you stood up, pressing your thighs together as you did so.

"Yeah..." You entered the kitchen in search of a bite to quell your hunger. You discovered cookies, popcorn, Cheezits, and wet wipes after searching the cabinets. Why were wet wipes kept in the snack cabinet?

“Ellie?” You gave her a concerned-confused look as she held up the wipes.

“What?” She looked at you, and you just waved around the wipes.

"Uh, well, keep the ants away.”

“Where the fuck did you hear that?”

“I read it or something somewhere... But that isn't a snack, bubs.” Obviously, the wet wipes weren't a snack. You walk over to her and straddle her lap.

"I'm not going to make you eat the wet wipes." Your thoughts had returned to what had just been said a few moments prior: "Wait, Ellie Williams, do you have ants!?" She gave you a dumbfounded look like a middle school boy who had just been scolded. "You have ants when you were about to let us eat food from your cupboard?"

"Calm down, baby. The wet wipes carried out their duties."

"And how do you know that?"

"I didnt hear any screaming that you saw an ant," she said. She shifted into a new position, pushing her hips a up little higher. You noticed this bump or something rigid. None of those properly expresses what you felt. The bulge in her pants was pressing directly on your clit while you were seated on Ellie's lap. You were soaked through, which was unfortunate for you. You were wet before, of course, but now it was leaking through.

Ellie picked you up and set you down next to her, but she quickly noticed the mess you had made beneath yourself. "You, um, do you need any help with..." you nodded quickly in order to get to you something you have been waiting ages for while also stopping her from finishing her sentence she laid you down in front of her, lifted up your skirt to let it rest on your torso, and pulled off the green underwear you had chosen to wear that day, which of course would need to be washed. "Just relax for me; it is okay, I’l make it feel good, promise". You trusted her i mean why wouldnt you- your trusted ellie with yourself at least, so when she kept kissing the inside of your thighs, you didn't question, but you did whine.

“Els please” 

"Right, I'm sorry." She gave you her silly little smile before returning to her task at hand. Her lips were almost immediately attached to your clit. You whimpered and gasped loudly from her movements. The effects of the weed haven't faded quite yet, making all of Ellie's movements feel 10 times better, but let's be real, it's Ellie fucking Williams, and you've been wainting for this forever.

“E-el-” She slid her agile, calloused fingers into your cunt, causing you to let out an exasperated gasp, followed by a loud moan. You tilted your head forward to see her face. Her eyes were stuck to the way you just kept dripping and how her fingers were being swallowed up so easily.

“Ive got you, babe. Lay back for me. Can you do that for me, pretty girl?" Responding to her request, you nod and lay down. The pace of her fingers quickens, and she hits a spot that makes your head feel light and your tummy coil.

 "Els, please." Ellies, ignoring your pleads, having lust take over. Completely, you feel yourself about to let go at any minute, any second, but it's not like all the times you've fingered yourself to the thought of her before. Ellie's mouth on your clit,  her fingers thrusting out of you, you moan louder than you even knew your voice could handle. She continued quickening her pace until she drained everything out of you. You “came” all over her hands, face, and couch. She pulled her head back and paused for a moment. “I-I am so sorry, I didn't mean.”

She places her finger over your mouth to hush your apologies. "It's alright, angel; I know you couldn't help it.” You were embarrassed by your actions, but somehow, even though she had a big mess that she had to clean up, her reassuring words made everything fine. She leans right over you and places a kiss on your lips. “I think I'm in love with you. Actually, I know that I'm in love with you. I love you, bubs.”

"I love you too Els."

[writersdrug]

Ghost x Konig x Reader: I Don't Need You (Ch. 6)

<- Previous - Next ->

Summary: You (surprisingly) get more comfortable with Kortac, and slowly let yourself connect with the team. You subconsciously tether yourself to Konig, who is more than willing to help you fit in. The pain of the past begins to fade into the back of your mind like the end of a long chapter of your life.

Additionally, Konig starts asking the hard questions - it unearths a piece of you that you'd hoped would remain buried, but you still share the memories with Konig.

Chapter warnings: Mentions of violence, mentions of rape, cursing, google translate German, shirtless Soap, very EXTREMELY watered-down mentions of sexual themes (we ain't there yet, boiis)

Notes: Sorry it took so long, I've got a lot cooking in the kitchen now and I'm hoping to pump out a lot this week!

Additionally, I've had some comments on this work not being an x Reader. First off, I never want to mislead anyone. I label this as an x Reader because Bonnie is not an OC of mine. I've seen other x Reader fics include callsigns that refer to the reader, so I assumed using Bonnie similarly would be alright. I also mentioned a name ONCE in chapter 3, "Jane Morris," which I thought to be a very generic name, and I haven't used it since and don't plan to. I have a personal preference of writing longer, chapter-by-chapter fics in first POV because it feels more natural to me than second POV. The same goes for using y/n - I like to avoid it if I can because it feels unnatural.

Again, those last two thing are a personal preference. I'm not bashing any fics that use these things at all, I enjoy both ones that do and ones that don't, and I don't enjoy one over the other. When I say one feels more natural than the other, I mean it feels more natural to write, not to read. I'm debating changing the name I used in chapter 3 to just y/n l/n to make this a true x Reader. If you still feel like I should change this to an x OC please let me know and I'll be happy to adjust the tags, titles, and descriptions. Again, I never meant to be misleading, and I hope I didn't make anyone angry. If a mistake has been made I am happy to learn from it. Thanks!

Konig had cracked the code on me. He figured out that after a case of American beers and a long drive, away from the crowd of new faces, my outer shell began to soften.

There was still a wall that I was holding up between me and everyone else, even though it was significantly smaller than usual. When Roze and Castillo approached me at breakfast, I didn’t get up and leave. And when Juno used the empty spot in the gym room right next to me, dropping his bag on the floor and giving me a cautious glance as he set up for his routine - I didn’t grab my things and move to the other end of the room. That was my first instinct, but I fought it. Instead I huffed, facing the mirror in front of me and focusing on my sets.

I’d started going to the common area more often – maybe not every night, but often enough. We’d make it a habit to play poker on the nights I did show up. I was better than most of the group, since none of them were quite used to my mannerisms yet. However, Konig and Horangi still took the lead as the winners, despite most of us arguing that they shouldn’t be allowed to play if they were going to wear their masks. The argument would eventually turn into a casual conversation – I didn’t engage in it too often. I preferred to sit and listen, using the time to slowly learn more about the team. I typically planted myself between Roze and Konig, keeping my legs crossed on the seat and nervously fiddling with my Yuengling bottle.

Although I was ashamed to admit it, Konig had become a conduit for my interactions with the rest of the team. The way he engaged with their activities, yet still managed to stay reserved, struck a chord with me. I respected the fact that it could sometimes be difficult to find him on base, and that at the same time, he was always there when I started to feel overwhelmed. I didn’t need him, no… that was a stretch. But sometimes I felt grateful that he was so eager to accompany me places – especially when he invited me to go on “perimeter checks” with him, which mostly consisted of long drives off base.

I don’t know how I had grown to appreciate him so much – maybe it was because he felt similar to me, in the way that we both needed our alone time, and with how we often found ourselves slipping out of the common area around the same time, with the original excuse being that we were tired. Half of the time, we would sit in the mess hall and talk until the early hours of the morning.

“A sniper?” I asked on one particular night, fiddling with the mouth of my beer bottle. “You’re way to big for that – no offense.”

Konig chuckled. “And that’s what they initially told me.” He took a swig of his (nasty) German beer. “But, despite being handed other opportunities, I proved them wrong. I’m sill a damn good sniper.”

I huffed. “Nah, you should be happy you got promoted to Colonel; you’re lucky, you get to avoid being in the trenches – at least, as much as the rest of us.”

“Lucky? No…” Konig said, shaking his head. “I do not like being a Colonel. I’d much rather be doing the dirty work of soldiers than writing these stupid reports.” He slapped a large hand over the manilla folder that sat on the table next to his beer. “It keeps my head busy, and I don’t have to listen to myself think.”

I nodded while sipping my beer. “I completely get that – If I’m not actively doing something with my hands, my brain gets too loud. Like – like there’s a mini me in my head, and the only way to drown her out is by physically doing something. Anything, really.”

Konig laughed – almost a snort – “‘A mini you’. I like that, that’s good.”

I huffed a laugh through my nose, turning my head to hide the smirk on my face. Despite being a large, brutish man, he had a youthful essence about him. It was hidden deep beneath the thick exterior of a war-hardened soldier. But, every now and again, it rose to the surface, touching a part of my soul I hadn’t allowed to be seen in a long time.

I pushed my stack of bills into the middle of the table. “All in.” I said nonchalantly.

Gaz narrowed his eyes, leaning back in his chair and looking down his nose at me. “You’re bloody stupid…”

“Or really smart.” I retorted. I folded my arms over my chest, not wavering under his intimidating gaze.

It was unbearably hot in the room – whether that was from the tension of the game or the broken air conditioner (Price eternally insisted it would be fixed, “… by next week…”), I didn’t know. I was donned in my sweatpants and sports bra, Gaz was in a wife beater and sweats, Ghost was covered head to toe in a sweatshirt and jeans (one could ever rarely catch him wearing anything less), and Soap… well, Soap was Soap. Completely shirtless, with only a pair of gym shorts on. Typical for him to be so shameless.

Ghost looked at his cards, his jaw clearly tense underneath his mask. He wasn’t very good at hiding his unlucky hand – it was almost like he wasn’t even trying. Which was a possibility.

“Fucking hell… I fold.” He tossed his hand onto the table, revealing his sour bunch of cards. He walked to the fridge and cursed under his breath, rummaging through the contents.

“Jesus, you’re a load of dry shite.” Soap commented, leaning against the wall adjacent to Ghost. “You could’ve at least tried to intimidate ‘em.”

“You could try shutting your fucking mouth, alright?” Ghost snapped back. Soap raised his hands defensively, leaving Ghost by the fridge.

He flopped onto the couch near me and Gaz. “Miserable sap…”

I did my best to tune out their bickering. I stared down Gaz, tapping my fingers on the edges of my cards. I was relying on the river card – I had a chance at a four-of-a-kind, praying the last card on the table would be another seven.. It was risky, and Gaz was probably right in calling me stupid. But I was never one to back down from a challenge. I craved the thrill of it. Most of the time, I ended up getting lucky.

Gaz chewed his lip. He cocked an eyebrow, slowly pushing all of his cash to the middle of the table. “Call.” He said.

And I heard it – the telltale sign of his bluff. A fraction of a second where his voice had waivered, followed by him grinding his jaw. I knew I had it in the bag.

I was savoring the moment of triumph, watching Gaz stare at his cards, when I felt a hand on my back. I nearly spun around and yelled at whoever touched me, until I saw a gloved hand place a Yuengling bottle to my right, the lid already popped off. I faltered, staring at the bottle, feeling the hand on my back rubbing a thumb back and forth over my spine.

I glanced behind me, looking up to meet Ghost’s eyes. He was looking down at me with an empty gaze. His eyebrows twitched for a brief moment as he continued rubbing his thumb over the skin of my back.

I knew what he was suggesting. What he was asking. Put a woman on a compound with broken, touch-starved men, and eventually one of them will succumb to the temptation. Even so, I was shocked that it was Ghost. I would say he was showing a weakness here, no matter what he decided to call this – it was an admission that he needed something – something from me, specifically – which I never thought would happen.

He continued staring at me for another few moments, waiting for an answer. Keeping my eyes locked on him, I took the bottle and drank; my reply. He gave the tiniest nod, walking away and sitting down next to Soap – who was shuffling the remaining deck of cards, eyes narrowed at Gaz. He knew he was bluffing too.

I turned back to Gaz, smirking as he revealed the river card.

“You ever think about what you would say to those kids now?” I asked, tapping my beer bottle. “The ones who bullied you.”

Konig hummed. “Mm… not really. I don’t hold too much resentment.”

I chuckled. “If only we could all be a saint.”

“Well, it all happened so long ago.” Konig tried to justify himself. “We were only kids, bored and trying to stay on the surface. They just wanted to look tough so that no one would pick on them. Of course, I wouldn’t understand that as a kid. Maybe then, I would have admired what I’ve become, and I would have wanted to boast about it. But now that I am a Colonel – Ich habe besseres zu tun.”

I sarcastically rolled my eyes. “And that means?”

“Ehh…” he groaned, squinting his eyes. “How is it said… ‘I have bigger fishes to cook.’”

I sputtered, turning my head and laughing. Konig glared at me. “Gibt es ein Problem?” he asked, which I sort of understood. He sounded irritated, that much I could tell.

“No, Konig…” I said, standing up and giving him a pat on the shoulder as I walked by. “Just keep up the English lessons, ok?”

He scowled. “Verpiss dich… Start learning German and maybe I will.” He retorted, and I waved at him dismissively from behind my back.

I stuck my head into the fridge, grabbing a Yuengling and one of Konig’s beers. I walked back and placed them both next to him. Like instinct, he took each one and hooked their lid onto the edge of the table, then smacked the side of his hand down on the tops, sending the lid clattering to the ground. He opened my beer and handed it to me, then repeated the process with his, before reaching down and collecting the lids. He added them to the pile, totaling six beer lids so far.

If someone had shown me this image a year ago – Konig and I, sitting up late into the night, chatting like we’d known each other for decades… not to mention the fact that I was so unusually open with him… I would have been insulted. I would have laughed. No one would have been able to convince me that I would become so attached to anyone else after what had happened with the 141. Yet, all of this felt so natural. It was beyond how I felt that Konig and I were kindred spirits… it really did feel like I’d known him before. Maybe, he reminded me of a part of myself that I tried to bury away.

Or, maybe, I was just submitting to loneliness and trying to justify how quickly I clung to the first available soul. That was also an embarrassing possibility, one that I would rather not admit to.

“I have a question for you.” Konig’s voice and the clink of his beer bottle on the table brought me back to reality.

“I might have an answer.” I replied.

He looked off to the side, perhaps wondering whether or not he really wanted to ask the question. “Who did you kill? And why?”

Just like that, I felt the walls being built right back to where I had them. Bonding time’s over. Back to square one.

His inquiry caught me off guard. I froze, my bottle hovering in the air before I could take a sip, my eyes glued to the table. Just the mention of the incident brought the painful memories up to the surface, like claws scraping at the dirt, digging up the deepest roots.

“Lots of people.” I said, deflecting. I took a swig of my beer.

“You know what I mean.” He scoffed. “Why did you end up in military prison?” He leaned over the table – clearly not planning on letting the topic go.

I sucked my teeth, staring at him defiantly – moments ago, it was pleasant talking to him. Now, I was fighting back the urge to leave him at the table and go to my dorm. I felt ambushed at how he had changed the subject so abruptly. Like he had been waiting for me to carelessly stumble into the trap, and now he was watching me snarl from within it.

He leaned back with a sigh. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I just thought we were getting somewhere here.”

“Oh?” I said dryly, cocking an eyebrow. “’Getting somewhere?’ What’s that sup-“

“Hey, it’s ok.” He raised his hands defensively. “I get it. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” His words were forgiving, but his eyes said something else – I knew what he was thinking.

Weak.

I gave him a hateful stare. Fucker know how to play his cards.

“I killed a sergeant.” I admitted. “My lieutenant’s right-hand man.”

That got Konig’s attention. He leaned forward again, putting his bottle off to the side. “Why?” he asked again.

I inhaled deeply, then exhaled, as I leaned back in my chair. My eyes fell to the floor as I forced myself to recall the memories. “In Egypt, a while back. Don’t ask when because I won’t tell you.” I warned Konig, and he huffed – but obliged.

I continued. “We were going in to retrieve a hostile target. Everyone was jumpy – me included. It was dark, and we didn’t know what to expect. After the hostiles started to engage, we were scattered. I got stuck in one tower, so I went upstairs to try and make a foxhole.”

I paused. It was now my own hands, covered in dirt, clawing at the roots of the memory. Each word I said was painful, yet somehow felt overshared. Like I was trying to get Konig to pity me. Except I wasn’t – I just wanted him to listen.

And that’s exactly what he did. No comforting shoulder pat, no soothing words… he just listened. He knew that if he stepped on the wrong spot, it would break my openness, like a branch breaking under his foot would disturb the silence of the woods.

“The sergeant – ‘Flare’ – he was up there, too. I thought we’d had the same idea, but… holy fuck…” I ran a hand down my face, feeling my heartbeat grow faster. “At first, I didn’t know what he was doing, I just heard him making those sounds and I thought he’d been hit, but… he was taking advantage of this – this woman – and with her kids right fucking there… she was probably just trying to hide, to hide them, she had to be so fucking scared… he didn’t even stop when I found him, I don’t know if he even heard me screaming at him.”

I paused, almost waiting for Konig to say or do something, but he remained silent. Despite my eyes never leaving the floor, I could see his blue ones watching me carefully. Concerned, patient, and calm.

“I didn’t know what else to do.” I said, my voice faltering the slightest bit. “So I shot him. In the head.” I unintentionally shivered. “Probably traumatized that poor woman and her kids, but… quick decisions aren’t the best ones.”

I ended my rant with a heavy sip of my beer. Konig continued watching me with wary eyes, which I ignored. I didn’t need consolation, or sympathy, or whatever he might try to offer. Somehow, he seemed to understand that.

“I would have done the same thing.” He commented.

Would you?

After a moment, he exhaled. “I don’t understand… I’d say you were in the right. Why did they put you in prison for that?”

I chewed my lip. “There was… some speculation, that I was jealous of his position. We’d been close throughout my time with the team, and when he got the promotion to second-in-command, I was a bit envious at first. People thought I was taking my anger out on him in what seemed like the perfect opportunity to lie.” I took another sip. “But I was happy for him. He worked hard, and he deserved it. But then the pressure got to him – Lieutenant was always depending on him for too much, and Flare couldn’t handle the responsibility. If he slipped up, it was a lot worse than if one of the rest of us did. I guess… the pressure is what got him in the end. Made him crazy in the end. He didn’t have any morals anymore.”

More silence. It felt uncomfortably loud – Konig’s stare seemed to make my head ring, making me fidget and bounce my knee. I wanted to snap at him. What are you looking at? Why are you asking so many fucking questions? But I was able to keep my anger at bay, justifying the situation by assuming his questions were fueled by nothing more than curiosity.

I figured I had said enough for the night, and finished off the rest of my beer. I slapped my leg, the telltale sign that I was getting ready to turn in.

Konig ignored it, or seemed to not notice. “Why did you kill him?” he asked.

I narrowed my eyes in confusion. “Why did I? What do you mean?”

“Why kill him? Why not just… disable him for the moment, and let your commander deal with him later?”

I opened my mouth to speak, but my voice was a second too late. “Again… in the heat of the moment, you don’t make distinctions like that. You think: ‘shoot,’ or ‘don’t shoot.’ And shooting him was the choice I made.”

Konig’s gaze became scrutinous. He knew I was lying about something… he was hellbent on figuring out what.

He’s going to have to wait a long damn time.

“Goodnight, Konig.” I said flatly. I collected my bottles, getting up from the table. With a clang, I tossed them into the bin by the exit, walking down the hall and leaving Konig sitting alone in the mess hall. I feel tears stinging my eyes, but that’s all they did. It’s all just water under the bridge, y/n. Get it together. You’re alright.

-----

Taglist: @igotmajordaddyissues @princekonig @vixionix

[iamnmbr3]

Great answers! I do love the idea of Sirius as DADA teacher!

Here's another one for you: rank these characters from worst to best for the post of Minister of Magic

Albus Dumbledore

Lucius Malfoy

Sirius Black (again cause I love him and I read a fic about this once)

Minerva McGonagall

Barty Crouch Sr.

oh god. these clowns would all be such terrible minsters of magic. why are you doing this to me? ok fine. here goes.

Lucius Malfoy: I think because movie!Lucius was sort of toned down and defanged fandom sometimes forget what a nasty piece of work book!Lucius was before he had his downfall and got all sad and pathetic. Fanon!Lucius often gets turned into kind of a joke but book!Lucius was out there torturing muggles for fun by night while he had the ear of the Minister by day and was, seemingly, extremely adept at subtly spreading his pureblood supremacist agenda in government. (Honestly, better at it than Tom because unlike Tom he actually cared). Also in book 4 it's very clear that if he had gotten hold of Hermione - a fourteen year old child - on the World Cup grounds he would've attacked her without hesitation (been eager for it, in fact). Yeah he wasn't down with Voldemort's whole thing but that was more because of the effect it had on him personally. with Voldemort out of the picture he was top dog and he was doing just fine. All this to say, as Minister the policies he enacts are...not good to say the least. He'd be out there building a violent pureblood supremacist dictatorship in a heartbeat.

Albus Dumbledore: Albus says he can't be trusted with the power of being Minister and honestly...I believe him. He'd still play the same messed up manipulation games he plays in canon but on a much larger scale (while simultaneously feeling bad about it and telling himself it's for the greater good). He does some truly epic mental gymnastics to convince himself he needs to make himself dictator for life and then things spiral because obviously anyone who resists him is evil right? Right? Of course! The alternative is that he is wrong and he doesn't want to think about that. Also, he doesn't seem that bothered by house elf slavery and his ideas for getting nonhuman magical creatures on his side in canon seemed to involve asking nicely but not actually granting them rights. So I'm not super optimistic on that front. So yeah. This just turns into the whole of wizarding Britain getting gaslit and thrown into insane situations by a madman who seems so wholesome and lovable and yet... Also. Given how poorly organized the Order is I think it's safe to say that all other flaws aside, the man does not have a gift for management.

Barty Crouch Sr.: Listen. He ALSO sucks. Very clearly ok with slavery, not a fan of due process, and allowed Aurors to torture confessions out of suspects. His only saving grace is that he does love rules so he'd probably eventually step down and wouldn't make as many potentially damaging changes as Dumbledore.

Minerva McGonagall: Her no nonsense attitude ensures that any meeting she runs actually accomplishes things. She's smart. She's sane. She's stable. She doesn't care about ending slavery or changing the status quo, but she's a lot better than most of the options. She's not especially creative or good at political games though which often hampers her ability to carry out objectives and prevent bad actors (i.e. Lucius and his faction) from getting their way.

Sirius Black: What does the man who hates authority do when he finds himself in a position of ultimate authority? I don't know but I'd love to read about it! Sirius is actually pretty shrewd (contrary to fanon) and I think he'd actually turn out to be a natural at handling politics (much as he might hate it). He also understands traditional pureblood society (he is a Black after all) but he doesn't idolize it (he hates being a Black) which would allow him to understand and work with multiple factions. Additionally he can be forceful and authoritative. He's impatient, often biased and unfair, sometimes quite cruel, can be temperamental, and again, has 0 problem with slavery. So like. He's not good per say, but he's actually better than some of the others. (At least with him meetings are never dull because if he gets bored enough he just turns into a dog and eats the agenda).

[hazbinpage]

Lucifer x Reader HCs

(In which your relationship is romantic and you both live in the hotel.)

WC is 1741

(A/N: I love Lucifer so much. What a man. That being said, he's probably really OOC in this: we've only seen his character in a select few situations, none of which demonstrate how he treats his romantic partner or bonds with people he doesn't know, and I haven't read enough fics about him to decide what I like. Additionally, I'm not the best at writing romance at this point, so hopefully nothing is too off lol! With the disclaimers out of the way, please enjoy and lmk what you think! :))

-He isn't very fond of sinners, and while his perspective on them has changed since joining the hotel, his opinion certainly hasn't flipped 180 degrees. How could it have? Good deeds never made the news in Hell, and the dead he was forced to interact with were powerful. Powerful sinners were never innocent; no one becomes an overlord by accident. Centuries upon centuries of talking to the powerful, witnessing only violence and hatred, will not be undone by a single moment of comradery in war — a battle where he couldn't know if the sinners were acting solely in their own self-interest.

-This is why, when you first arrive at the hotel, he's fairly aloof. He'll be polite, of course; he has no reason not to be (especially while lowkey still trying to win over his daughter), but will hold himself distant.

-Despite this, he admits you're kinda cute....

-You don't see him often, which doesn't help with his distance — he isn't used to being around so many people, and while he's pretty charismatic and extroverted, he's also still depressed and has a habit of self-isolating when he's going through it (which is often). He only really comes out for his daughter's sake.

-To get to know him faster than his changing perspective and mental challenges would otherwise allow, you could: one, approach him directly! Be friendly, open, and interested in his hobbies. This only works if you do the same for the others, though. If you don't, he might see your advances as manipulation. Two, you could develop a relationship with Charlie. Support her, believe in her cause, and have her back. He'll see you helping his daughter and will want to understand you further. Three, you could talk about ducks. That'll get him. He'll approach you eventually and strike up a conversation.

-If you don't do any of these things, that's fine; he'll just get to know you at the same pace that he gets to know the others. He'll slowly open up to the idea that not all sinners are violent psychopaths, become more comfortable with the rest of the crew, and realize how well he connects with you over a period of several months.

- Lucifer catches feelings pretty fast once you start hanging out for real. He's enamored with you: not only are you cute as fuck, but his daughter loves you, and you're the nicest sinner he's ever met (while kindest of the damned is not a hard-earned title, it's one he appreciates nonetheless).

-Once he realizes he's caught feelings, he'll ask Charlie for permission to ask you out. He doesn't want to pursue you if she isn't comfortable with it; she's already got familial issues, and he doesn't want a sudden shift in the family dynamic to hurt her further. If she says yes (which, if she likes you, she probably will), he'll ask you out to dinner.

-Prepare for the first date to be really awkward. Even if you've known him for a while at this point, he's incredibly nervous — he hasn't done anything romantic in a good while, and the last time he tried a relationship, it didn't work out. The whole time, he's fumbling over his words and cringing at himself, saying things he doesn't mean to while trying to be suave. When he escorts you back home after a very bumpy evening, he'll be downtrodden. He messed things up, just as he knew he would, and now you probably hate him; thoughts of self-loathing and regret swirl in his mind until you say you'll pay him back next time (he blinks up at you owlishly. "Next time? Like...another date?" You confirm his thoughts. "Oh--- oh! Yes, absolutely! I mean, no, no need to pay me back; of course not, but next time sounds good! How does this Saturday at 3 sound?").

-A couple of dates in, and he's feeling more confident, which reflects in his now far more self-assured demeanor and smooth language. He's a silver-tongued devil, after all, and he has to live up to his name.

-If all goes well, after about a month, he realizes he wants you to be his partner. He, once again, gets Charlie's permission and brainstorms with some of your friends about how to pop the question. Initially, he wants to impress you, pulling out the big guns and whisking you off your feet on the balcony of a lavish black-tie restaurant rented for just the two of you. After some discussion among your peers and deliberation of his own, though, he decides to do something else. He invites you to his tower, where he's prepared a handmade dinner with candles and soft music in the background. The food isn't particularly good (he can't cook very well and enlisted Vaggie and Nifty's help to make his dish edible), and the smoke from the candles stopped being pleasant about a half an hour in, but regardless, you both have a wonderful time, laughing about his lack of culinary skills and the excessively warm room. He asks if you would like to be his lover at the end of the evening, nervous but somehow also self-assured, and is overjoyed when you say yes. The next day, he parades you around the hotel, bragging that you said yes and talking about you to anyone who'd listen.

-If he wasn't big on physical affection before he got so lonely, he is now. While his hands might not constantly be on you, they've come close to that, especially if he's going through a hard time. Expect lots of hand-holding, arm-looping, cuddling, and kissing. He likes resting his head on yours (or your shoulder, depending on how tall you are) while he wraps his arms around you (or the reverse — he loves being cradled), you both sitting together on the couch. He also has a habit of rubbing his thumb in circles over the back of your hand while holding it.

-Smother his face with kisses, his cartoony heart-eyes expression will look a tenth lovestruck as he feels.

-You receive frequent duck memes, duck-themed gifts, and duck dissertations. He doesn't go around parading his interest, but if he trusts you, he can't keep himself from wanting to share everything about his hyperfixation. He's concerned about being annoying, though, and while you could try to curb his insecurity by telling him he's not, the best reassurance is to match his energy: talk about your own obsessions and be just as weird about them as he is. Not only does he feel better about himself, but he gets to talk with you for extended periods of time, your eyes alight and grin large. He'll probably try to get into whatever you talk about, wanting to connect with you further.

-He likes giving you gifts in general. Especially those that show you're in a relationship with him, like wearable apple or goat paraphernalia. While he does enjoy gift-giving for its own sake, he's insecure and doesn't want anyone to think they can cross him by taking you. If you give him anything duck-themed, handmade, or (heavens help him) both, especially without reason? He will melt. He loves it; he can feel the thought and effort you put in for him and feels known and loved.

- He’s kinda clingy; he likes being around you as often as possible and gets nervous if you're gone too long; if you leave for more than a day, he's like a koala when you return. It's comforting to him to know where you are, but it’s even more comforting when you tell him how much you love him before you go. His self-esteem isn't at a record low, but it certainly isn't high, and he has huge abandonment issues. Every once in a while, because of this, he'll grow distant; his thoughts of being undeserving or theories about how you're going to leave him become too much, and he semi-subconsciously pulls away to protect himself. Be patient with him during these times; show him how much you care and how you would never leave. Tell him you love him as he is. The first time you say so, he'll cry in your arms and snuggle you for hours.

-He'll become less clingy and insecure as your relationship goes on, but will always rather be with you than alone.

- He's majorly protective. He knows what it's like in Hell, and he knows that by dating you, he's put a target on your back, which only adds to your lack of safety. He will pull all the strings he has in order to keep you safe, whether that means accompanying you when you're out and about, actively keeping you away from overlords, or tracking your phone without your knowledge. He feels bad about some of his less savory means of protection, but not bad enough to stop. The thought of your death haunts him too much to let you be.

-Similarly, though he won't ever admit it, your redemption keeps him up at night. If you're redeemed and go up to heaven, he can't see you anymore — maybe ever. He knows you want to better yourself and tries his best to support you in your improvement, but sometimes his fear gets to be too much. In those moments, he has to spend some time alone before he tries to sabotage your progress in any way — any more than he already has.

-It's hard to tell what his love language is because he uses all of them. He wants to spend time with you (though he will give you a break if you need one; he understands needing to be alone, even if it makes him nervous), give you gifts, be touchy, do things for you, and tell you how wonderful he thinks you are. He wants you to know just how much he cares in every way he can and will be receptive to any form of love in return.

-He doesn't use as many pet names as some of the rest of the cast would, but he does use them! He likes calling you sweetheart and angel-eyes the most.

-Overall, he has a lot of insecurities and mental health problems to work through, but tries his best to be the best partner he can be for you. It's hard work to improve himself, but if you'll have him, he'll stay by your side forever.

[end-otw-racism]

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Answered here.

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[edited 06-16-2023 for Action 2]

[theminecraftbee]

Just out of curiosity, do you know any alternative ways of showing types of relationships that could be used on ao3? I find the & and / method to be very constraining, especially with ambiguous or multi-dimensional relationships. & for platonic and / for romantic does not allow for a proper representation of nonstandard relationships, for example an enemy/loathing or polyamorous relationship. (Homestuck quadrants are their own thing and are not what I am asking for/about.)

answer that answers your question:

yes and no. if you just want another category of markers to exist, i know you said no homestuck quadrants, but those are probably most commonly used, although they're all synned to the / tag. i've seen some exchanges that want to differentiate use /& together, i've seen ? be used, and i've seen some invent their own tag (largely exchanges use these for matching purposes and it's rare but i HAVE seen it). however, there's no unifying convention, and ao3 will eventually syn all of these to either the / or & tag (usually the / unless the wranglers have a very good reason to think it's the & tbh). so know that even if you use your own symbol, it will show up in the relationship tag it ends up synned to.

one of the most common solutions to this is to use the symbol closest to what you want--personally i tend to just use the & unless there's fic content i think gen fans would really hate, since & is the tag that covers the much wider spectrum of relationships in my head, although some people will differ--and use freeform tags to disambiguate. for example, last days has the & tag for joe and cleo, along with a "queerplatonic relationships" tag! i believe "ambiguous relationships" is also a canonical tag, and you don't have to use canonicals if you can't find the one you like! the world is your oyster.

(here i'll also note: the & doesn't require them be like... friends. it just requires the fic be about their relationship in some way, and for this relationship to not be romantic or sexual. enemies is absolutely covered here, as is like, weird coworkers, or even tags like "hero & the public".)

(similarly, the / tag doesn't require they like each other, it just requires it to be a "ship"; enemies who have a ton of sexual tension goes under this, as do things like abusive romantic or sexual relationships; just make sure you're using your warnings and additional tags appropriately!)

the other most common solution is to tag both the / and & tag and use a tag like the "ambiguous relationships" or "this can be read as either" or "queerplatonic relationships" or whatever other disambiguating tag you think it needs. this is less common in the mcyt fandom because of the mcyt fandom's history of being SUPER WEIRD about shipping, but it's often the most common solution in fandoms that aren't this one.

"i want ao3 to have a ship tag that is neither & nor /, and is not considered synonymous with either" unfortunately this doesn't exist and isn't going to. like i'd love to say there's a way to make it exist but it Won't because of how ao3 was designed to work on a backend level and also ao3 does NOT change quickly, for better or for worse. you're going to have to pick between "make up a symbol and it will probably be synned to /", "use the tag you think you like best", or "use both". i wish there was another option too, if it helps, but the additional tags are really useful here!

"use no relationship tag" is also always an option; the relationship tag is not a required tag!

answer that answers your two examples, neither of which really fit the question as i understand it, hence me separating them out:

a fic about the relationship between two enemies is either the & tag if you just want the one that is actually meant to be used or the / tag if you mean for it to be like, the kind of enemies that have sexual tension. use additional tags to additionally disambiguate (example: just put in the tags the canonical tag "enemies" and you're good to go). the & tag is for ANY kind of platonic relationship, it does not require the two characters like each other, only that the fic is about their relationship! you can use the homestuck <3< if you REALLY wanna make it clear but that's synned to /, so like, up to you. if you're super worried someone will misunderstand the & tag you can also just not tag a relationship, relationships aren't mandatory tags.

i have no idea why you're asking about polyamory because that has a solution that's entirely unrelated to the problem you propose: you just tag the ship. ship tags with more than two names in them are legal tags, as long as it doesn't go over ao3's tag character limit you're good. if you do hit the limit, just use more than one tag! this is totally fine and follows ao3 conventions, don't worry. if it's the kind of polyamorous relationship with metamours, where not everyone is dating everyone, this is where more than one overlapping relationship tag REALLY helps. plus: you can mix / and & tags! not all of them will be canonical yet, but that's true of ANY ship tag you're originating! i have seen the form of "character/character & character" in many fandoms before, it's totally valid and will disambiguate! (also, the ensemble tags may help you here if you're doing like, a polyhermits thing; "hermitcraft ensemble/hermitcraft ensemble" is a legal tag and i think what polyhermits is probably synned to.)

so yeah, hopefully this helps some! good luck out there!

[astersofthesky]

I have been so used to hearing L's dub voice in my head (whenever i read fics) and also whenever I watch clips that it genuinely shocked me when i heard the "I am L" scene in japanese and how different they sounded alongside the implications in the attitude of their characters.

L's sub voice holds a natural polite tone normal for the japanese whilst maintaining an air of professionalism and authority. His tone does not sound "condescending" too when he told the task force about how they would've died if he was kira. It was respectful although you can hear the slight disappointment in his voice, as if he's trying not to let it shown out of tact.

Additionally, the way jpn sub! L spoke the "Let's show Kira that we're willing to risk our lives, because justice will prevail." scene sounds encouraging to say the least. He was clearly driven by personal reasons ("But I will win in the end.") but even so, he was speaking in a "we" sense, like he was giving the task force some acknowledgement for their efforts and then pushing them to do better in the investigation.

The dubbed version of this scene, on the other hand, gives a feeling that L like meeting and working with the task force is more of a "chore" rather than of extra help. The perpetually tired tone of dub!L made the "Please don't give out your names so casually." scene translate to "Gosh, they're so stupid." It's both mockery and a warning. Atleast, that's how I interpreted it.

He lets his authority known by the task force without coating it. For example, the "I want to show kira that we're all risking our lives if that's what it takes, because justice will prevail no matter what" scene is very authoritative. Note on the emphasis on "I WANT," like L's telling the team "Yes, we will but under MY orders."

Now this isn't a hate on the death note dub version. I loved the dubbed voice for L and i do believe it also fits him. You could say I was just surprised at how a slight change of tone and delivery could change a scene so much.

[spookyjuicefiction]

Violets & Plums: Astarion/Tav, Part 3

Part 2 Masterlist

A/N: still no clue what to name this fic tbh. CW for Astarion's back story/Cazador bullshit, and there's a bit of nudity that gets spicy

------------------------------------------------

Astarion barely said a word the entire day. It was a boring one; the group had decided to circle back to the druids' grove to confront Kagha about some evidence they found that she was working with shadow druids. Additionally, they wanted to re-up on supplies before mounting their final attack on the goblin camp. This meant a long day of walking and retracing old steps.

Personally, Astarion could not care less what Kagha was doing with the grove. He didn't see why it was any of their business if she wanted to kick the tieflings out and lock things down, but of course, Tav disagreed. Not only did Tav have a bleeding heart for apparently all wretched creatures, but she had Karlach in her ear begging her to make sure the orphaned tiefling children were safe. There was no point in arguing, since everyone else aside from Lae'zel seemed to agree.

Besides, Astarion had decided that the only way to deal with his unfortunate new Tav problem was to ignore her entirely as much as possible. If he just didn't speak to her, she wouldn't be able to read him and he wouldn't have the stomach flipping issue. He had a new mantra that he kept repeating in his mind. Get Halsin. Get to the creche. Remove tadpole. Be on his merry way. No more Tav.

But even as he repeated it to himself, he couldn't shake the possessive feeling that had risen in him at the sight of his bite marks on her neck. Mine. Her arms wrapped around him. Her breath in his ear. The scent of violet and plums. Get Halsin. Get to the creche. Remove tadpole. Steal Tav away. No more others. Just them.

Fuck.

"Here's the stream. We're about halfway there." Wyll called over his shoulder from the front of the pack.

"Thank the gods, I want to shower off that nasty bog smell!" Karlach darted forward, her large body clearing a path for everyone behind her to walk through.

"A rinse would do this wizard good," Gale agreed, looking to Tav. "Shall we stop for an hour or so?"

"I don't think there's any stopping Karlach, anyway," Tav chuckled, dropping her pack on the edge of the stream. The tiefling was already throwing her clothes off over her shoulder, leaving a trail of boots and belts behind her.

"There's a waterfall!" Karlach cried, and as the rest of the group caught up, Astarion could see her already splashing her way over to it. Wyll, Lae'zel, and Shadowheart were quick behind her, stripping down to their underwear and splashing each other as they sank into the rushing water (Lae'zel and Shadowheart splashing each other with particular aggression).

"Gods, this feels good on my engine," sighed Karlach. The waterfall ran over her turned into a giant cloud of steam.

"Maybe I can hug you if you're standing under there!" Tav said excitedly. Astarion averted his eyes as she removed her clothes and waded over to her friend. Why is she always hugging everyone?

Next to Astarion, Gale picked his way gingerly through the shallow part of the stream until he settled himself in up to his chest.

"It really does feel quite nice," the wizard informed him, clearly confused as to why Astarion was still fully dressed and standing tensely on the bank. Astarion shot him a dark look.

Wyll floated back over to Astarion and Gale, sighing dreamily. "Ah, women. Is there any sight better?"

The three of them looked quietly as the four girls laughed raucously under the waterfall. Even Lae'zel was in on the fun, an uncharacteristic smile across her unusual features. Astarion swallowed thickly as his eyes fell on Tav, her skin slick and shining under the rushing water. Her sheer joy almost choked him with its purity. He turned away.

"I'm going to find some privacy," he told the men pointedly so that they wouldn't try to follow him. He wasn't in the mood for a boys club atmosphere with those two.

A few meters away, Astarion at last toed off his boots and removed his clothing and gear, folding them neatly on a tree trunk before wading into the stream. He scrubbed himself with his bergamot soap, sighing as he realized how stiff his shoulders were and how sore his feet and legs were. He leaned back and dunked his blonde curls, using his fingers to scrub through the grime.

Suddenly, he heard splashing coming towards him and he instinctively ducked so that the water covered up to his chin. Infuriatingly, it was Tav wading towards him.

"Hi," she said with a smile.

"What do you want?" he felt defensive and vulnerable with his clothes off; it made him snippy. She cocked her head at him, but the smile didn't falter.

"I'm sorry, I've intruded on you," she observed. "I only wanted to see if you were alright. You've been so quiet today I rather thought a monster hunter had stolen you away."

"I'm fine," he snapped. Her gentle tone made his teeth grind. He wished she would kneel further into the water so that he couldn't see so much of her, as it was very distracting.

"My, you're awfully acidic today. If hunger's the cause, you can come and feed on me again tonight." She said it so casually, as though she told him he could borrow a cup of sugar. He gaped at her. "Not as much as last time, though, I need my strength for tomorrow. I'll make sure to eat a big dinner, too." The last bit she said more to herself than to him, and then looked at him expectantly.

"I - uh - alright," he replied uncertainly. He hated how much he wanted it. Hated that it was physically impossible for him to say no. Hated that she was so bloody nice about it all.

She smiled. "Brilliant. I'll leave you to your primping, then."

Once they had all dried off in the afternoon sun, they set off again. It took all of Astarion's strength not to let his eyes rove over Tav's body as she lay bathed in the radiant light. He chose instead to focus on attempting to inflict psychic damage on Gale, who was letting his eyes rove plainly and with reckless abandon for his own life and safety.

When they finally reached the grove, Astarion realized how critical it in fact was that Tav had offered to let him drink from her. After confronting Kagha and disposing of the shadow druids, the chastised elf had offered them sleeping arrangements to stay in the grove for the night. Within the confines of the grove, Astarion would not be able to hunt, as all animals were sacred to the druids. And, honestly, he wouldn't be able to tell which ones were actually druids in wildshape. He didn't fancy picking a fight with one of these nut jobs.

Then came the selection of sleeping arrangements. Each room had two beds, which meant there would be an odd one out. Astarion obviously expected to be the spare, guessing Wyll and Gale would take one room and the girls would pair off. He stood off from the group as they discussed the arrangements, and turned to face Tav when she came to break the news. But again, she surprised him.

"Me and you, then?"

"I... what?"

"Lae'zel has elected to to sleep on the ground because 'beds are too comfortable'," Tav explained. "And, considering our plans for the evening, it makes sense."

Over her head, Astarion could see Karlach and Shadowheart whispering to one another and looking in their direction, smiling devilishly.

"Quite."

If Astarion had ever been inclined to believe in a god before, he knew definitively in this moment that they had all abandoned him. Confined to a private room with Tav, where they had every intention of entering an intimate situation. He might as well just stake himself in the middle of this hallway.

"Our room will be this way." Tav picked up her pack and gestured for him to follow, which he had no choice but to do. The room was simple and bare; druids were not known for great finery. But it was clean and smelled of cedar wood and fresh flowers. Admittedly, Astarion was rather looking forward to sleeping in a proper bed for the first time since he was abducted.

His eyes taking in the room snagged on her, standing awkwardly.

"I'm going to change clothes," she explained.

"Ah, right, of course." He turned away from her, pretending to inspect the bed. The candle on her side of the room cast her shadow on the wall next to him as she unlaced her jerkin and pulled her cotton shirt over her head. As she turned, he could see the silhouette of her breasts as she heaved a deep breath. Astarion raked his hand through his hair and busied himself unlacing his own boots.

After a few more quiet moments, she spoke softly: "Okay, I'm finished. I'm ready when you are."

Astarion closed his eyes to steel himself for a quick moment before turning to face her. She was laying on the bed wearing a thin tunic and smoothing her hair off of her neck. She had pulled the blanket haphazardly over her, but he could see the top of her thigh poking out; it did not seem that she was wearing any pants. Gods, hadn't he seen enough of her naked flesh today? The sight made him feel as though he was blushing, even though there was no warmth to his skin.

Slowly, he stalked over to her bedside, and she looked up at him with a frown.

"Perhaps I should lay on the floor? I don't want to spill blood on the bed."

"Don't worry about that, darling. I will ensure none is spilled. Just... make yourself comfortable."

She seemed satisfied at this, and settled back, turning her head so that her previously punctured neck was exposed. Now it was he that hesitated.

"I... would you rather I sit on the edge of the bed and lay across you, or hold myself over you like I did last time?" One way required him laying on her chest, but the other would almost certainly require him planting his knee between her legs to hold himself at the right angle.

"Oh," she sounded surprised, and a blush crept up her neck as she made the same realizations. "uhm, whatever is more comfortable for you."

Astarion wanted to laugh. He had never been so uncomfortable in his life. At least in Cazador's dungeon, he usually had an idea of what was coming next. Ultimately, he decided to sit on the side of the bed, and he sank himself down next to her.

"Not too much," she reminded him, and he nodded, putting his hand over his heart to show his sincere promise.

Well, here goes nothing.

He leaned into her, and her scent overtook him instantly. He parted his lips to her pulse point and felt her swallow, preparing herself. He lined his fangs up to the previous punctures, and slowly sank into her neck.

At the first taste of her blood to his tongue, he was completely and utterly lost. His hands clutched at her warm body beneath her as he grew dizzy with the scent he was coming to know as uniquely hers. It sang to him like a siren song, coaxing his hands to move on their own accord, clawing at the hem of her tunic and clutching at that thigh skin that had taunted him moments earlier. She gasped, and he thought he might be hurting her, but her hand flew to the back of his head and knotted in his hair. He moaned as she fingered his silver curls, her other hand rubbing up and down his forearm.

Everything was blurring together. He wasn't sure when he withdrew his fangs, but the next moment he was licking the rivulets of blood that ran from the punctures they left behind. Now it was she who moaned, still clutching him, pressing her body against him. He lavished her neck until the blood stopped running, but he couldn't tear himself away. He began nipping, sucking, and kissing his way up her neck, catching her earlobe, and then slowly crossing her jaw bone.

"Astarion," she choked out, her voice a breathy whisper in his ear. He pulled back immediately.

"I'm sorry," he gasped. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

But the hand still tangled in his hair firmly pulled his face to hers, crashing their lips together in a searing kiss.

That was it. He was completely broken. He opened his mouth hungrily, drinking her in. Their teeth clashed with the desperate need to be closer, to feel each other, their frenzied desire burning hot fire into his lifeless body. He felt her hands tugging his shirt untucked and roaming her hands over the skin beneath, and he did the same. Warm. Soft. He broke the kiss only long enough to tear her tunic off. He hesitated only the briefest of seconds before discarding his own shirt. Fuck it, he thought. It's just a fucking scar.

He dove back into the crook of her neck, their naked chests crashing blissfully together as he lavished her with kisses everywhere he could see. Her skin was so hot, he couldn't believe Karlach was the only one with an infernal engine in her chest. Astarion had been cold for so, so long. For the first time in 200 years, he felt alive.

This thought sobered him, and he slowed his kisses. He was afraid to get to the next part. She was so perfect, so beautiful and soft and warm. She deserved good things. He wasn't good. He was damaged beyond repair. He was a killer, a monster, no matter what she said on the matter.

He didn't realize how still he'd gone as this panicked thought grasped him until he felt her hands stroking gently across his face, their foreheads pressed together.

"Are you alright?" she whispered, caressing him.

Astarion opened his mouth, but he couldn't speak. He didn't even know what to say. Didn't want to hurt her, didn't want to ruin the moment even more so than he already had. He let out a sigh he hadn't realized he was holding.

He conjured an image in his mind of a request, one that he was too ashamed to vocalize because it was so pathetic. Then, he gently prodded at her tadpole. With their foreheads together, it felt like they were tapping on opposite sides of a window pane. She connected to him, and he showed her the image.

"Of course," she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

She rearranged herself and motioned for him to lay down. He lay his head on her shoulder, face in the crook of her neck, and wrapped his arms around her waist. She took him in her arms, gently caressing his shoulders with her fingertips, and kissed the top of his head. After a few minutes of silence, she whispered again into the flickering candlelight.

"You don't have to share anything with me. But if you want to talk about what you're feeling, you can tell me anything. You're safe with me."

Astarion felt, of all things, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. He swallowed and blinked them away, hugging her even tighter, if possible. Instinctively, he reached for a joke to distract from his discomfort. But it died in his throat as she continued with her gentle ministrations. There was something sobering about the dim light in the room that made him feel bare. He didn't want to lie to her. And he did feel safe with her.

"When I was under Cazador's control," he began slowly, "he made me do a lot of terrible things. I... was forced to use my body to lure victims for him." Her hand stilled for a moment as the shock of this revelation hit her, but she continued her caresses. '"He sent me out to find the most beautiful creatures in Baldur's Gate, and to ruin them. The things I've done..." he trailed off, eyes stinging again, "my body, it's tainted. It's a weapon. And I killed so many."

He lifted his head to look at her. Her lip was trembling. "I'm afraid to ruin you."

After a moment, she seemed to compose herself enough to speak. "You are not tainted. You were a slave, and you did what you had to do to survive, and because you had no choice. Gods, you are -" she huffed out a breathless laugh that lacked mirth, "- you are so beautiful, Astarion. And really and truly brilliant. You could never hurt me. I am safe with you." She cupped his chin in her hand and used her thumb to swipe a tear from his cheek, looking deeply into his eyes.

"You are not a monster."

Astarion pressed his face into her chest, unable to handle the kindness of her words. He didn't deserve them, but he wanted so badly to believe her.

"Thank you," he all but whispered, pressing a kiss to her skin. "No one has ever had a kind word for me. You're the only one."

"Get used to it." She squeezed his shoulders and resumed her gentle caresses. "And when we get to Baldur's Gate, we're going to kill Cazador."

Astarion chuckled. He wondered if Tav, in all her research, had any idea of how hard it would be to kill a vampire lord. But it was so like her to believe that she could, and he let her. He even allowed himself to envision the fantasy where Cazador was destroyed, and he would finally and truly be free. It almost ached, how much he wanted it to be true. Beneath his head, he felt her sigh, as though she were drifting off to sleep.

"Sweet dreams, my dearest one," he whispered as the candle flickered out, allowing her warmth to lull him into a sleep of his own.

Part 4

[midnight-mourning]

1000 kudos/100 Follower Special!

wow so um, there’s a LOT of you now

👀👀👀

WHERE DID Y'ALL EVEN COME FROM LIKE?? HI!! 👋👋👋

AND ALSO

THIS???? CRAZY, incredibly appreciated <3 but also wild

anyway, I think that deserves celebrating! So, here’s a couple ideas I came up with for y’all to vote on, with the option of sharing other ideas in the comments, I’ll do the top two and save the others for the next milestone :)

If the 'other' option gets the most/second most votes, I'll do another poll with ideas that people suggested and we'll go from there. You can scroll down and click the read more if you'd like more info on each option! SO, having said all that:

Letting you guys make the call with this one! I have stuff prepped for all of it, just a matter of people voting since this is ME showing my appreciation to YOU. And again, next milestone will have the opportunity for the other choices :)

Also, this isn't just for followers/the moots either! Anyone is welcome to vote and participate if they'd like to 💙💙

Please also feel free to ask questions in the comments if that helps you with voting! Can't wait to see what you guys pick :D

I will expand on each option here for clarity in your decision making:

CS one-shot: I will write a one-shot (3,000-5,000 words prob) based in the CS universe. It will be canon to the fic but will never be mentioned/referenced in the fic itself so stand alone to read. It may be a future scene, may be based somewhere in the current timeline. Open to ideas on the POV and such (though I have some floating around that I can do ;))

Q&A/Ask the Cast: a classic, I know my ask box is open but here's also a clear chance to ask something that you've been really curious about! I won't share spoilers for the story, but everything else is on the table, including stuff about me, writing etc. Just no super personal questions is all! Additionally, you can ask the cast questions and answers will be in character, perhaps with a little doodle as well ^-^

Finished refs/busts for the cast of CS: I'll post the finished versions of the rough sketches I shared a few months ago, along with the remainder of the cast! This includes the rest of the engineering team, the division heads, the glamrocks, and the DCA! I also will include little blurbs for all the characters as well. This will probably happen eventually anyway BUT if you want them sooner rather than later this is you're chance if you're curious :)

Spooky Season one-shot: something halloween-related that again I'm open to ideas for! Would also be about 3,000-5,000 words in length, could be related to CS or not

Writing Requests: similar to the requests I did for reveal day, same rules apply (no nsfw, suggestive is fine, be specific if you want specific) but a little longer in length (500-1000 words)

Doodle requests: I provide you with a little drawing I made with tender love and care (would be lined, colored, shaded, etc.)

A peek into the drafts: I do in fact have a couple other fic ideas floating around in my brain that I simply haven't started so that I don't get bogged down/focus on CS. I would share those and a little bit of concept art

Other: explained above

[prince-liest]

I'm another of the doesn't read abo fic crowd. To the point where I usually filter it out of my AO3 searches so I don't even have to see it. That being said, I read your abo fic just now because I like literally all of your other stuff so I figured why not? And I was pleasantly surprised to find that I actually enjoyed it. You always characterize them both so well and the entire thing was so soft. Very well done.

I'm always a little torn about how to respond to comments like this, because on the one hand, I totally get the feeling of, like, "Wow, I don't usually enjoy this thing, but I like how this author did it, and that feels really special and exceptional to me, so I want to express that!"...but on the other hand it kinda sucks to receive a large number of comments that amount to, "Hey, so that subject that you enjoy enough to write? I think it sucks so much that I don't even want to lay eyes on it. But you're special and managed to do it well, which surprised me! Good job!"

I knew I was going to get a lot of these after posting that fic because A/B/O is a polarizing subject that is popular to be loud about disliking. I also get them not-infrequently about 666 and my smut in general, from people going, more or less, "I don't usually read porn BUT your porn is emotionally deep, and therefore superior."

And at the end of the day, all I can say is: I very much appreciate that you have enjoyed my writing enough to take a chance on something that isn't usually your thing, and I additionally appreciate that I wrote it in such a way that you then enjoyed that thing! But I also encourage people to consider that I as the author (not to mention many, many of my readers) am reading and writing these things because I like them. Even when I'm not the one writing them.