#especially if its a long fic with several chapters like ://

[cheerycherrycandy-resurrected]

Hunter's Moon (Medieval AU pt. 2)

Chapter 3

Aether, Rain and Dew enjoy the party. Swiss and Mountain finally talk.

'Bout time this pair of idiots talked...

Thanks for sticking with this (and letting me use a thin plot to throw backstory at you)! 🖤

Rating: T Content: more nasty family clans (but aeth's this time) Words: 4827

@ashthewaterghoul @bloodfin @cosmicseafoam @everybodyshusband @jazz-bazz @karmicbias @kentuckyfriedsatan @midnight-moth @nefariousghoul @papaslittlesunshine @zombiequeen777 @0-miles-away <333

Links to full fic: Tumblr | AO3

Read below, or on AO3!

Across the festival, Aether was watching on with mild concern. He was used to his pack's antics and their oftentimes odd behaviour, but whatever was going on between Swiss and Mountain seemed strange even by their standards. They seemed to be putting an incredible amount of effort into ignoring each other, Mountain avoiding even attending the party until the last possible moment, which was especially noticeable given how attached they had been for a while now. The culmination of that attachment had been clear for all to see last night, which made their distant behaviour today even more strange. 

The contrast between the Mountain of last night compared to the Mountain that Aether had first met many years ago made him chuckle in bemusement. They couldn't be more different, really. The Mountain of several years ago had been a similarly lone wolf to himself; roaming the wilderness with only himself and the trees for company. Aether had thought for a long time that they were kindred spirits, both content to live without a mate. Mountain had even seemed happier to exist alone than Aether was – the earth ghoul hadn't even sought a pack bond at first, whereas Aether missed and longed for the company and closeness of one. Recently though, Mountain seemed to have found another path that brought him joy and Aether couldn't be happier for his oldest friend. 

Never would Aether have imagined the quiet earth ghoul finding his match in the oftentimes brash and loud multi ghoul, but he couldn't deny that in spite of that they seemed like a perfect match: two contrasting peas sharing a single pod. It was this mix of contrast and complement that brought Aether concern right now however – they were clearly feuding over something, and he could only hope they were able to sort things out between them. He had no doubt that Swiss would try to – ever the problem solver, he tended to address his issues head on. Of greater concern however was Mountain.  

The earth ghoul had been so wary of him when they first met; almost closer to a wild animal than a ghoul from his time in the wilderness. During the first few weeks of their tentative alliance, gaining Mountain’s trust had felt like trying to coax a wild deer to eat from his hand. Actually, that was something Aether had done once, just to see if he could, and after a bit of quintessence it had been simple. He couldn't exactly quintosis Mountain into liking him though – that would hardly be the right footing to start building trust on. He had been skittish for so many months that Aether had been half-convinced that one morning he would wake to find Mountain had completely disappeared. He never had however, always staying true to his promise to keep watch over their camp.  

Aether didn't know what had happened between Mountain and Swiss, but he hoped that the earth ghoul felt a similar loyalty to Swiss and his pack still and wasn't going to try to flee this problem either. It seemed not, thankfully, as he saw Mountain plunging through the throngs of people in the direction Swiss had gone, shortly after their first performance.  

Aether was shaken from his thoughts by the nervous chattering of a few humans emerging from the long, lantern-lit path that led down to the road. More people than they could have ever expected had braved the mysterious Abbey at the top of the hill, all curious and intrigued by its strange inhabitants and their enigmatic figurehead.  

As one of the ghouls with the most experience around humans and the most reassuring presence amongst them, Copia had specifically asked him to be there to greet those who were brave enough to attend. If we want to recruit a few, we must be gracious to the many, he had said. So far, Aether considered he was doing a good job. Humans had no way of telling if they were in the presence of quintessence, so he had made sure all those he greeted got a good dose when passing him. With a winning smile and a handshake buzzing with the telltale purple sparks that only he and his kind could see, the newest arrivals began to mingle with the crowd of ghouls and their fellow villagers.  

Aether looked up to see Copia watching him, shooting him a smile and a double thumbs up. For the leader of such an old and magical church, the man could be so unserious, Aether thought. It really was a funny turn of events that he was here on greeting duty, and such a contrast from the life he had been raised in far away in the rocky eastern lands. Like Mountain, he had also been raised in a clan he had later broken ties with. Unlike Mountain's though, his did not preach honour through self-sufficiency and respect for nature. His tribe were war mongers, believing it was their hell-born right to destroy all they came across and repopulate the Earth with their own. Aether had never liked their values, even having been grown up surrounded by them.  

As he had reached the age where he was expected to participate in their atrocities, he had started to wonder how any ghoul could go along with this so calmly. Surely, he couldn't be the only one to think that their behaviour was barbaric? He held closely to the idea that maybe everyone around him was simply faking their enthusiasm for the grotesque violence, that this was all some sort of performance designed to instil fear in their enemies. He would lie awake at night praying that all his peers were in on the ruse too and he had just missed the explanation. Alternatively, maybe they were all as horrified by everything as he was and were also only going along with it for their safety.  

Unfortunately though, time and time again he had been proven wrong as more and more ghouls he had considered friends committed atrocities for the tribe. Seeing the violence taking place in front of him made him feel sick to his core. Although he had so far managed to escape any such ritual brutalism by his own hands, the tribe's secondary goal soon began to be forced upon him: finding a mate and siring as many kits as he could. The tribe's goal of dominating the Earth seemed unstoppable and Aether could see no escape as, one by one, all the ghouls he thought had shown him a hopeful spark of individuality soon also fell to the cruelty of the clan.  

Similar to Mountain, his clan also had a rite of passage all ghouls needed to complete, else they would be exiled from the tribe and given the same treatment as the rest of their enemies. It was a simple test of his strength and will, or so the elders who came to see him had said. All he needed to do was bring back the horns of an enemy ghoul he had slain in battle. Aether could see no way out that would not sacrifice all his principles or his life so, similarly to Mountain, he had agreed to his pack’s demands and left. He would figure out what to do later.  

After a rocky start, Aether had eventually found his feet in the wild lands around him. He moved west, finding the lush green fields and woods provided better sustenance and protection than his clan’s natural habitat ever could. Along his way he had met many travellers, ghoul and human alike, who he would try and persuade to turn back to save them from the fate that surely awaited them. Most had listened, but the faces of those who had not still haunted him.  

Adapting in order to survive had been difficult, but Aether enjoyed learning new things. His clan's pillaging and raiding had brought back all kinds of information and knowledge from the civilisations they sought to destroy, most of which they had derided as scholarly nonsense but from which Aether had gained a basic understanding of the natural world he now found himself in. He had enough knowledge about animals and plants to know which could feed or heal him versus which would do him harm. Besides, Aether was a fast learner and the enjoyment he found in applying the things he had read about made him optimistic for his new future alone.  

He missed having a clan around him though: their friendship and camaraderie, however surface level it had been, had kept the loneliness at bay. He had never desired a mate or kits, neither for himself nor to please his clan, but he realised now that the company of other ghouls was something he dearly missed. 

He had heard Mountain in the woods before he saw him, sensing his energy approaching his small camp. There was something innocent about it that kept him at ease – although clearly a ghoul he felt only curiosity in their heart, not a trace of violence. They must not be a quintessence ghoul: something his kind learned early on was how to protect their minds and intentions from each other. Aether had been shocked to see the towering figure of the earth ghoul emerge tentatively from the trees. Replete with monstrous, antler-like horns which only added to the deer-like mannerisms Aether would later liken his to, he would cut a terrifying figure to those who couldn't sense the peacefulness deep within.  

The ghoul had stared at Aether in shock, as though he couldn’t quite remember how he had ended up face to face with another ghoul. He looked like he was debating if he should flee or ready himself to pounce in retaliation to an attack from Aether that would never come. Greeting him as he had the other ghouls and humans he had met during his travels, Aether had offered him a seat at his fire and some food. An act of pacifism and hospitality so contrasting to the way he had been raised it still felt almost rebellious, even now. 

Now however it was second nature to greet all as though they were future friends. This had served him well in fighting the initial scepticism of the humans he and Mountain had met, especially when they were trying to find their feet in the village they would eventually call home. He hadn’t had the smoothest start amongst the villagers there, not able to let his actions speak for him as Mountain had when masquerading as a strong but silent farmhand looking for work. His charming smiles and friendly words had certainly eased his way however, soothing the subconscious alarm bells all humans were hardwired to feel in his presence until his miraculous healing potions and talismans laced with quintessence could bolster his reputation.  

His impeccable social graces served him well again now as a pair of young women, so alike they had to be sisters or even twins, emerged. They were clearly nervous, so with a shimmer of quintessence Aether dialled up his million-watt smile. He greeted them as if their presence was personally appreciated by him and all the church, before they disappeared into the crowd laughing; Aether’s mission complete. He had to wonder if any of his old clan would recognise him anymore with how fundamentally different he was now. 

Elsewhere in the mass of ghouls and humans were Rain and Dew, both thoroughly enjoying their evening. Mist had done her best to fill them in on their packmates’ drama but neither ghoul was too worried; surely it was just a misunderstanding, and they would patch things up in no time. Dew especially couldn't see any way in which the two clearly smitten ghouls wouldn't sort out their differences. After all, hadn't he and Rain managed to? Mist had rolled her eyes and wandered off, muttering about the Dewdrop she knew being far more pessimistic than that. 

Somehow, despite still being as attached at the hip as ever, Rain and Dew were now managing to have entirely separate conversations. Their tails behind them were twined together, uncaring of any humans around, as Dew slowly rubbed the spade of his over Rain’s in a comforting motion. Rain was, as happened fairly often, being fawned over by a collection of older water ghouls and ghoulettes acting somewhat like doting grandparents. Their comments that the colour was coming back to his gills nicely, and wasn’t Dew a lucky ghoul to have him had made both of the pair blush. 

While Rain embraced the attention, preening subtly, Dew had awkwardly cast his gaze to the ground. An out presented itself in the form of Ifrit, one of the few fire ghouls he got on well with, sneaking past them towards the drinks table while looking furtively over his shoulder. Dew smirked as he reached out a hand to grasp him on the shoulder, watching him leap into the air like a cat doused with water.  

Ifrit was a young ghoul, Dew assumed similar in age to himself, and one of the newest at the Abbey. Despite that, he already seemed to have gained himself quite a reputation; he was a prankster, frequently getting into trouble, and also a notorious, silver-tongued flirt. Dew cackled as he watched the other fire ghoul scrape himself off the metaphorical ceiling and calm down when he realised it was only Dew. 

“Whose tail did you tread on this time?” Dew asked, grinning at the thought. Ifrit's eyes shot side to side warily, only making Dew's smile grow wider. It had to be someone important, or scary. This was going to be good; he thought. 

“M-mountain!” Ifrit hissed, as though the earth ghoul was listening in. 

“What?!” Dew burst out laughing at the thought of his pack's gentle giant scaring Ifrit quite this much. Sure, he could hold a grudge with the best of them, Dew ought to know that best of all, but he had never seen the earth ghoul do anything that could warrant this kind of reaction. Still, Ifrit kept glancing over his shoulder, clearly terrified. 

“What did you do to him? Mount wouldn't hurt a fly!”  

This did nothing to mollify Ifrit who shook his head furiously. 

“He's so pissed at me Dew! You should've seen him, I thought he was gonna kill me!” 

Dew continued laughing, the thought of Mountain scaring the normally over-confident fire ghoul was beyond hilarious to him.  

“Why would he want to hurt you? What, did you scorch one of his saplings or something?” 

“Worse! I made a move on his mate!” Ifrit winced at the memory. “Only I didn't know it was his mate until he got all possessive and terrifying!” 

Dew positively howled, bent double. 

“It’s not funny,” Ifrit whined, “have you seen his face all day? He looks like he’s been plotting my destruction!” 

Still gasping for breath amid paroxysms of laughter, Dew patted Ifrit reassuringly on the arm. 

“Firstly Iff, why in Hell did you go after Swiss of all ghouls? He's been lovesick over Mount since before we even got here!” 

“I didn't know that! I've just seen him around, and thought he was cute, y'know?”  

Dew rolled his eyes, still snickering; Ifrit was just as susceptible to Swiss' innate charms as everyone else, it seemed.  

“You don't need to worry about Mountain though. He’s not mad at you, he and Swiss are just having a bit of a misunderstanding right now that they need to work through.” 

With that said, Dew reached up on his tiptoes to look for Mountain's head above the crowd. Even without his massive antlers on full display, his auburn hair should still be visible well above the tops of the heads of the rest of those gathered. There was no sign of him in the large clearing however, which Dew hoped meant he was off talking with Swiss. 

“It doesn't look like he's around now anyway,” Dew shrugged, "so forget about him and go have fun! Go schmooze with some humans, they'll give you the time of day, I'm sure!”  

With an exaggerated wink, Dew waved a relieved-looking Ifrit off towards the drinks table where he immediately found a small cluster of guests to entertain with his charming looks and winning smiles. 

Rain, whose own company had also wandered off, had been listening in amusement and now leaned his chin on Dew's shoulder, wrapping his arms around his middle. 

“Poor ghoul,” he giggled in Dew's ear, “you're never going to let him forget that are you.” 

“Nope!” Dew grinned, popping the ‘p’ sound with satisfaction and spinning around in Rain's arms to face him. “I bet Mount will be so embarrassed about scaring him too, I can't wait to annoy him about it once he's sorted out his mess with Swiss!” 

“You're such a menace.” Rain smiled and shook his head fondly at this new side of his favourite ghoul that was slowly emerging as he grew more comfortable and confident. 

“You love it though.” Dew smirked, but Rain knew by now that such a throwaway comment was still silently begging for his reassurance. 

“I do. I love it. I love you.” 

Dew pressed closer to him, staring up and clearly waiting for the kiss that always followed those words. Rain was struck for what felt like the thousandth time how beautiful his eyes looked, even more so tonight as they reflected the myriad complimentary autumn colours around them. Who was he to deny Dew anything he wanted? 

“Love you too.” Dew murmured, words half-garbled by the meeting of their lips. 

~~~~~~~ 

With a final squeeze of his hand from Sunny for good luck, Swiss made a beeline for where he could see Mountain’s head bobbing through the crowd. He had left the stage in a hurry, not wanting to have their conversation in front of a watching audience, and needing a moment to compose himself and get his breath back. Copia had held Mountain back only briefly, but it was long enough that the crowd had closed between them. Swiss dove headfirst through the throngs of guests and ghouls back towards where he had been, single minded in his focus.  

Mountain was doing the same, chasing after Swiss before he could disappear completely with little care for the disgruntled faces he pushed past. As such, neither ghoul immediately registered that the other was in front of them until they collided with each other, hard. Winded, Swiss lost his footing and was only saved by a pair of large hands catching hold of his shoulders and keeping him upright. Green eyes stared down at him, full of a thousand conflicting emotions, but mostly radiating concern. Still slightly stunned by the impact, they began talking over each other. 

“Ah! Sorry, I wasn't looking.” 

“Are you alright?” 

“Mountain? I was looking for you!” 

“We need to talk, I'm so sorry.” 

Their words could barely be heard over the sound of the crowds around them Swiss realised with a nervous chuckle, watching Mountain's lips move but hearing next to no sound come out. He pointed at the earth ghoul, then off to the side of the clearing, motioning that they should go somewhere quieter. Mountain nodded, looking so relieved to be given an out from the overwhelming crush and noise surrounding them that he wasn't even considering the awkwardness they had felt earlier. It broke the tension between them, the pair smiling shyly at each other as Swiss turned to lead their way out of the clearing, Mountain sticking to him like glue. 

Breaking out of the crowd, Swiss kept walking. He could feel Mountain's presence following behind him, so he kept going until the noise of the festival was just a low hum in the distance. Finally recognising his surroundings, he realised he had led them to the small garden they had explored in their earliest days here. It felt as magical as it had then; a safe haven with only the plants around to eavesdrop. Swiss led Mountain over to one of the benches nestled deep amongst the shrubs.  

The pair sat in silence for a short while, both knowing there were things that needed to be said, but neither wanting to interrupt the other. Swiss could tell that there were words trying to escape Mountain, could see his bitten lip and the way he kept trying to take a breath to speak, before the words got stuck in his throat as Swiss opened his own mouth, before also pausing.  

“You go first,” Swiss eventually spoke softly, “I'll listen, I promise.” 

Mountain's mind went blank as he found himself suddenly put on the spot but tried to remember that it was just Swiss in front of him; the ghoul he loved most in the world. That thought finally inspired him to fight to get his words out and overcome everything that had been holding him back as it raced around his mind all day.  

“I... I'm not too sure where to start,” even looking down at his feet, Mountain could feel Swiss’ warm gaze on him, full of gentle encouragement, “I've got a lot to apologise for today I think.” 

True to his word, Swiss continued to listen quietly to Mountain's low, soft voice, overflowing with remorse and nerves. 

“I'll start at the beginning, I guess. I need to explain so you know all of this is my fault, not yours.” 

He took a deep breath and dared to raise his eyes to meet Swiss'. As green met gold, he felt a rush of love that gave him all the confidence he needed to continue.  

“I'm sorry about last night. For kissing you without knowing if that was something you wanted too. I know it isn't an excuse, but with all the free drinks I don't think either of us was thinking clearly and I'm sorry I didn't wait to ask you properly first.” 

Swiss’ mind raced at the notable omission: Mountain hadn't said he regretted the kiss, only that he regretted not asking first. He dug his claws into this little shred of hope and smiled encouragingly at Mountain so he would continue talking. It worked; now that Mountain had started he found the words came easier, all the thoughts that had been whirling around his head all day coming pouring out. 

“Then this morning. I’m sorry for leaving you and for running away. I wasn’t sure if you’d want to see me or not, but I figured you'd want me out of your space when you woke up. I wanted to come and find you, I promise I wanted to apologise properly, but then I saw the ghoulettes with you and you looked so sad.” 

Swiss winced; he was sure the venom radiating off of Mist in particular hadn't emboldened Mountain either. 

“I thought you would have been angry at me, but seeing you upset made me think maybe I should have stayed this morning after all. So I'm sorry that I left, unless you wanted me to? I've been so confused all day, not knowing exactly where I messed up, only that I did, and that's why I've been avoiding you which I'm also sorry for!” 

Mountain's final words burst out so fast he was almost breathless, and Swiss was barely certain he had caught them all. If he had been confused about Mountain's actions, it seemed the earth ghoul had been equally conflicted, if not more so. He had thought so much about doing the right thing, he had only managed to escalate their problems further. He started thinking about what on Earth he could possibly say, when Mountain continued speaking again, determined to leave nothing unsaid that could cause them any more confusion. 

“I should have come to find you earlier, I'm truly sorry for that. Giving you space didn't mean ignoring you the whole day even if that seemed easier. I understand if you do want space after this, but you should know that I don't want it. It felt horrible being apart all day! I want my favourite ghoul back, however you'll let me. Whatever it takes.” 

Seeing Mountain's shoulders finally slump as he released all the tension he had been holding on to, it was clear he was done. Swiss didn't think he'd ever heard him speak so passionately or for so long at once before.  

“I don't want space either,” he replied quietly, smiling almost shyly as he spoke, “I missed you today. I want to put this whole big misunderstanding behind us – try and forget the last twenty-four hours.”  

He paused. 

“Well, maybe not completely forget them...” 

Mountain looked at him quizzically, head tilted and brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of what Swiss meant by that exactly. 

Swiss's smile widened; maybe Mountain really was just that dense about these things. The time for subtlety had long since passed he realised, and hints would no longer suffice. He shuffled closer, his eyes never leaving Mountain's, determined to get an answer to the last big unanswered question in his mind. 

“Did you want last night?” 

Mountain took a while to answer, looking like he was choosing his words extremely carefully. 

“Only if you did too.” 

He looked so hopeful, Swiss thought. Like his whole world was floating, suspended around his head while he waited to see if it would fall to the ground and shatter into a million pieces or not. Swiss wasn't going to be the one to let it fall though. 

“I don't regret anything about last night,” he smiled as reassuringly as he could, “aside from all the confusion that damned free beer caused! What say we start off where we should have done last night?” 

Mountain still looked nervous. Swiss understood and he lamented his poor choice of words: Mountain's emotions had been thrown around like a young tree in a storm all day, and he could see how his words could be easily misconstrued. Now was not the time to leave him guessing about anything, especially not for the sake of some imagined allure or air of mystery. Even if Swiss himself found direct words difficult sometimes, he had to try. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” He wriggled back on the bench until he was up on his knees, ignoring their protests. His whole body now facing the earth ghoul, he could meet his finally eyes properly while remaining far enough away that he could keep him in focus. 

“I like you, Mountain. A lot. I would like to court you as a mate. Would you want that too?” 

Mountain’s eyes blazed brightly back with love, both at Swiss’ words and at his understanding of the earth ghoul, making sure the words he wanted to hear so badly were said in a way he couldn’t possibly misunderstand. They had had enough of guesswork. While some of their packmates may have managed to telepathically traverse the gap between sworn enemies and future mates, that didn’t mean they had to. Mountain nodded shyly. 

“I’d like that. I want to court you too. I want to be yours, and you to be mine.” 

They continued staring at each other for a second, letting their words properly sink in, until finally a euphoric giggle escaped Swiss’ lips. At last, they could say for sure that they were on the same page. Swiss threw himself back onto the bench to sit properly beside Mountain again, sitting as close to the earth ghoul as he could while still maintaining a respectful modicum of space between them. Swiss gently bumped shoulders with Mountain, a simple gesture between the closest of friends. That was first and foremost what they would always be; all romance aside. 

“I hated today,” Swiss said quietly, “let’s never do that again.” 

Mountain nudged him back reassuringly. 

“Me too. I promise.” 

As they continued to sit in a blissfully comfortable quiet, the noise from the party lowly drifted over to them, a low rumble of conversation punctuated by shrill peals of laughter. Swiss leapt to his feet in a panic. 

“SHIT, we forgot about the festival Mount! It must be nearly time to perform again!” 

Mountain looked up at him in horror, having also completely lost track of the time. Even though Copia would likely be delighted that they had made up, letting him down on his big night would be unforgivable, and not the way to repay him for his patience. Swiss grabbed his hand, as he had done so many times recently when leading him somewhere, to pull him to his feet and back towards the party. 

Suddenly Swiss hesitated and his grip went slack, as though he was unsure if such a gesture was okay still. Mountain squeezed his hand reassuringly and let the multi ghoul continue to tug him forward, the pair giggling hysterically as they tore through the gardens towards the festivities. 

[llitchilitchi]

I'm kind of going to go the opposite route to swordfright and say I'm not a fan of when c!Quackity is written as Pure Unfiltered Evil. Like, obviously he's not the nicest guy out there, he's done—let me check… *a lot of shit*. But it can sometimes feel similar to the treatment c!Dream gets from the fandom.

But then again, totally okay if that's the story you want to tell! The only problem is when people bring that stuff from fics to analysis; that goes for any character.

the ask from swordfright kinda compliments yours, really, and at the end of it all we get a complete statement that I think applies to all characters in the story

all characters are heroes of certain stories and victims of others, and they are definitely villains in many others. and all of that needs to be acknowledged, especially if we are to Discuss canon. it's valid to ignore parts of the character especially when we write from the perspective of someone they have a particular relationship with, but these fandom views don't have place in the actual story analysis

there is a lot of nuance to all characters on the SMP so to only choose one feels like taking two barbie dolls and waving them around

as one anon said, there is a line. and that applies to all of these

yes, c!Wilbur can be depicted as a hero in c!Tommy's eyes, but it would be stupid to ignore the emotional abuse that was inflicted in the process

yes, c!Quackity is a fucked up individual that tortured someone for fun. but he also underwent a lot of trauma at the hands of his fiancé and then when he got engaged later to someone else, they neglected him

yes, c!Dream was hurt in prison and reduced into a whimpering begging mess. but he also murdered one of the people responsible for the torture when he had the opportunity

it's cool to see people lean more into one or the other with the good/evil hero/victim/villain thing, but the main thing people seem to mind is when it's Just One and all the rest of the character is erased

does this make sense?

[thebigbiwolf]

Spittle - Part 1/2

Summary: The chocolate seems innocent enough - if you look past the Infernal writing on the wrapper, and with so few pleasures in the wilderness, you all but jump at the chance to sneak yourself a small treat.

Unbeknownst to you, the bar is infused with succubus spittle. Just one square is rumored to contain enough potency to send a mortal into the throes of ecstasy.

This is what happens when you eat half the bar.

Fic Tags: Sex Pollen (kinda), aphrodisiacs, succubus magic, a bit of dom!Astarion, unprotected piv, overstimulation, he talks you through it (iykyk), more tags will be added later.

Fic Warnings: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Dubcon (if you squint), Language, No use of Y/N, magical influence

Read on AO3: Here

A/N: Remember the dead spider? I remember the dead spider. Anyways, the reception I've been getting on Starvin', Darlin' has me wanting to thank everyone with a one-shot. This got away from me so I went ahead and split it into two parts.

I've never written anything like this and it was significantly more difficult than a multi-chapter fic. I hope everything comes across the way its supposed to! And a huge thank you to my beta @imaginarydromedary for...you know... encouraging me to post this, despite everything.

From what you could tell, there wasn’t much to the apothecary. 

As you push open the dilapidated doors, your first thought is to search for supplies - anything that could help if things went south on your way to the goblin camp. 

Dried herbs hang from the rafters beneath a thin veil of cobwebs, filling your lungs with a pungent clash of scents. Empty bottles lined the shelves along the wall, caked in several months worth of dust. Large chunks of the building were missing where stone met splintered wood, some areas almost entirely overtaken by greenery.

You step over broken shards of pottery, scanning over the floor and countertops for something - anything that may be of use, but to your disappointment, it seems like the shop was entirely ransacked long before your arrival.

You sigh deeply, knowing you’ll likely never hear the end of this from your companions. It was your idea to search the village. You were the one who suggested taking out the goblin scouts, exerting everyones’ energy, and now you’re afraid you’ll have very little to show for it.

You catch a glint of gold, an object reflecting the sun's rays beneath a pile of rubble. You kneel down to brush away the surrounding debris, thankful for even the smallest promise of coin before your hands catch on… some sort of serrated edge?

You pull at it, and it easily comes loose. It's a thin, rectangular block, just barely larger than the length of your hand. You wipe away some of the dirt with your sleeve, revealing an intricately designed foil wrapping underneath.

As you speculate what this might be, you hear footsteps approaching from behind, light and familiar. You turn to face the elf with a smirk.

“You’re supposed to be the stealthy one.” You chide at him, playfully, “Or has my blood put a little skip in your step?”

Astarion scoffs. “I’ve been here the entire time, watching you fumble around in the dirt.” 

Crimson eyes study you, then the object you’re holding. He places his hands on his hips, head cocked to the side with a raised brow. “Is that what you’ve dragged us all the way here for?”

“First of all,” you waggle a finger at him, “You’re especially grumpy when you’re tired. I’ll have to make a note to prioritize your beauty rest. Second, I haven’t finished looking around, but check this out.”

You hand the bar to him as you stand. The cool skin of his fingers brush against your own, and you’re irritated with the way your heart skips at the brief contact. Why did the one man you found attractive in your camp have to be such a primadonna? And such a huge pain in the ass? 

Astarion’s eyes scan over the textured paper with suspicion, angling it towards the light to get a better look. The golden wrapping is stamped with an image of red lips On the back, letters twist and curve in a language you don't recognize, following a single circular pattern where they meet in the center. You’ve never seen anything like this, neither in your travels, nor within the city walls of Baldur’s Gate.

“Where did you find this?” 

You shrug, then point to the pile next to you. “It was buried right there.” 

He silently stares at the foil, mouth pursed, until your patience begins to wear thin.

“Well, can you read it or not?”

His nose scrunches. “Of course I can’t read it. It’s written in Infernal.”

That’s… odd. Why would an ordinary apothecary sell goods made by devils? Or, worse, for devils. Unless, of course, it was some sort of marketing trick, perhaps a play on the phrase ‘sinfully sweet’, or some other cringeworthy branding.

You take it back, turning it over in your hands before tearing at the corner of the wrapping. It's sectioned into dark, rich squares, and smells indisputably like chocolate.

“It looks like candy.”

“An excellent observation.” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Now, can we go? We’ve spent more than enough time here already.”

You roll your eyes and stuff it into your bag, setting off for camp, vampire in tow.

–

During dinner, you decide not to tell the others about what you found, knowing Astarion’s likely already forgotten the event. You set down your empty plate, thanking Gale for tonight’s meal. He smiles at you and bids you goodnight as you excuse yourself to your tent. 

You pick up your rucksack, thinking fondly of the dessert that awaits you inside. Having lived at the beck and call of your companions for weeks on end, you can’t help but smile at the idea of selfishly indulging in a small treat like this.

You tear open the rest of the wrapping and snap off one of the squares, immediately popping one into your mouth. It melts - buttery in texture, with a smokey, slightly bitter flavor. You can’t remember the last time you’ve eaten something so rich. Maybe weeks of the same rations have made you easier to impress, but this felt especially notable.

As you break off a second piece, a strange tingling sensation begins to spread across your lips - a pleasant buzzing that starts at your neck and spreads down through your chest. 

Strange, but not entirely unwelcome. You’ve heard of such inebriating chocolates, ones laced with alcohol or species of flowers that numb one’s senses for a short while. All harmless, of course, and you don’t have watch tonight. You may as well enjoy yourself. If worst comes to worst, Shadowheart is just outside with an assortment of spells and potions. Always better to ask for forgiveness.

It only takes you minutes to finish half the bar. You set the rest next to your bedroll for later and turn to blow out your candles, enjoying the lingering physical effects of the chocolate. Your skin feels flushed and delightfully warm as you settle down for the night.

When sleep finally takes you, it's dreamless, at first. Your consciousness sways, floating in an empty abyss, until colors begin to bleed onto the blank canvas of your mind.

A trickle of red morphs into the shape of familiar eyes, piercing you with their intensity..

Droplets of white spatter over a dark background, diffusing, blending into whisps. They curl and twist before settling into soft, coiffed fibers. 

Hair , you recognize immediately, his hair . His eyes.

Astarion. 

His image fully takes form, as if it had been waiting for you to make the connection before entirely revealing itself. 

He reaches out and seizes you, grabbing painfully at your hips as you crash into his body, hands exploring you - tight, possessive, squeezing at every inch of exposed skin before settling on the curve of your ass. He digs into your flesh with the blunt edge of his nails.

His lips press hot, wet kisses to your throat, mouthing just below the ear, before dragging his tongue along your nape and sucking, hard . You whine at the pressure, eliciting a grin from the elf, so characteristically pleased with the pathetic little noise he’s managed to pull from you.

“You thought sleeping would allow you to escape this - to escape me , unscathed?” He growls against your skin, his voice almost unrecognizable - as if it’s layered beneath a lighter, somehow more arrogant, feminine one.

“No, no, no. Wake up, darling. You’re in for a very long night.”

–

You startle awake, gasping - loud, labored breaths struggling to make use of the unbearably thin air. The edges of your tent bleed in and out of focus, spinning at a nauseating pace as you attempt to recollect yourself.

You wipe at the sweat collecting on your brow, the muscles of your arm heavy and aching, and find that your skin is absolutely drenched. 

Hot. Why is everything so hot? 

It's as if you're being cooked alive beneath your blankets, strangled beneath the furs. You throw them off; normally soft to the touch, the fibers now only worsen the prickling beneath your skin.

Could this be some sort of illness? A fever? 

No, this doesn’t make sense. Everything feels off. 

Fleeting thoughts of Astarion cross your mind - quick flashes of a sinful smile that was not his own.

It didn’t quite match the one you’d silently come to admire, and now that you think of it, the hunger in his gaze was much too intense for the reserved elf. 

His hands, his mouth, the way he touched you -

Your abdomen cramps, bringing your thoughts to a screeching halt.

A stabbing, visceral pain; a knife plunging into your organs. It overwhelms you, forces your body to curl into itself. You hold your pelvis, grunting, and grasp at your sheets. Tears sting the corner of your eyes.

This is - well, you have no idea what this is. 

You can’t think past the pounding in your head, the throbbing in your midsection. You're compulsively twisting, writhing, begging the gods for some sort of reprieve, but it's then when you make the most mortifying discovery of the night.

You’re soaked .

N ot just your smallclothes, which may have been understandable given your strange dreams, but through your damned pants. Not even the sheets were spared. 

“What  in the hells…?” 

You run your fingers over yourself, only intending to confirm the horrifying reality of your situation - that this is not, in fact, some sick, perverted nightmare, but the lightest touch sets off every nerve. 

You wail at the sensation: one massive wave of bliss giving way to several small jolts of pain. 

Pleasure to the point of agony.

The shock of the sudden orgasm courses from your sex through every limb, clenching and releasing pitiful, warm slick. It leaks freely out of you into your already thoroughly ruined underwear. 

Your heart pounds. You stay like that for what feels like a lifetime, toes curled, limbs twitching, waiting for your body to settle. 

After a minute or so, your breathing evens, and the thick haze surrounding your thoughts begins to lift just slightly, along with the suffocating heat. 

But something within you knows this isn’t the end - knows this isn’t enough . A desperation lurks beneath the surface that you can’t quite name. It screams at you. You need more.

‘Aw…’ A familiar, feminine voice prods at your mind. You quickly recognize her, the woman from your dreams who wore Astarion’s image.  

‘All alone, are we? Empty and needing to be filled? Doesn’t that hurt?’

It does. It aches unlike anything you’ve ever known. The lingering buzz of your orgasm just barely quells the worsening cramps, and they’re beginning to rear their ugly head again not minutes later.

You choke out a sob. “Wh- why are you doing this? What do you want?”

Sharp, wicked laughter fills your head, echoing off the walls of your skull. ‘I’m not doing anything, dear. Just enjoying the show.’ She hisses, ‘I told you, it’s going to be a very long night.’

You must be hallucinating. This fever - whatever this is, is simply cauterizing your senses, or possibly interacting with the tadpole? But the tadpole doesn’t speak, not like this. Never so clearly. Not with words.

Think, please. There has to be a reason this -

“Is everything alright?” Shadowheart raps on the canvas of your tent. “I heard a yelp. Are you hurt?”

Shit.

‘Ooh, this one might do!’  You feel an unwelcome… eagerness flood you.

No. No. Absolutely not.

You try not to panic. 

Under no circumstances should she or anyone else come in here.

The best strategy may be to ignore her - pretend you’re still sleeping. It seems like a good plan, but before you have a chance to follow through with it, another sharp contraction hits. This one is somehow even worse than the ones before. 

You pull your sheets up to your mouth to stifle your whine, but the half elf’s ears are sharper than most. “I’m coming in.”

She opens the flap to your tent and gasps when she sees you there - skin flushed pink, doubled over and covered in sweat. 

“Gods, what’s wrong? What’s happened?” Her hand reaches out towards you. 

Without thinking, you swat it away with your own. Your skin tingles at the contact, and the essence of a smile crosses over the threshold into your mind. The intruder giggles with satisfaction.

“Don’t,” you plead, “Don’t touch me.”

She scans over you, taking in your humiliating state. Her face twists with concern. “I need to know if you’re feverish. Please. You look awful.” 

‘Well, I think you look delectable.’

You groan.

At this point, you know it’s no use fighting this thing on your own. You go back and forth on whether you want to tell her the whole truth, about the voice in your head and its influence on your body, but the idea mortifies you into silence. 

Regardless, a cleric is likely your best chance of fixing this literal mess, so you nod, close your eyes, and brace yourself.

Shadowheart’s palm meets your forehead. It’s somehow worse than you anticipated. Even the simple, chaste touch sends you reeling, as if her soft hands are caressing your entire body. Flashes of heat wash over you, burning your skin, threatening to pull you back under another wave of ecstasy. 

It’s too much. You try your hardest to suppress a moan, but the muffled sound manages to escape from between your tightened lips, pitiful and broken.

The disembodied voice squeals with delight.

She quickly retracts her hand, clearing her throat. “Apologies. I can confirm your temperature is… elevated, but the rest…” She shakes her head. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

You want to scream, cry - anything to release your frustration, but you keep your mouth shut, not wanting to risk making any more unsavory noises.

“I believe I can give you some relief by treating the fever, but I’ll have to consult the others on the rest. This doesn’t look like any ordinary sickness.”

Consult the others? No. Gods, no. Nobody can know about this. Is she mad?

You intend to protest, beg her not to share this with anyone, tell her whatever death awaits you on the other side of this would be preferable, but she’s speaking an incantation before you have the chance.

A bright, green aura envelopes you, cooling your skin and ever so slightly easing the cramps. With the pain dulled, it's as though you can finally think again. 

You want to laugh. This situation is so utterly ridiculous that you’d find it hilarious, were it anyone else, but with the modicum of relief comes exhaustion - eyelids heavy, vision blurring with weariness.

“Get some rest. We’ll figure this out.” 

Her reassuring words are the last thing you hear before you’re overcome by darkness.

[juyoluvs]

light a candle | l. juyeon

————

☆pairing: single father!juyeon x teacher fem!reader

☆tags: fluff!, slow but not so slow burn, really slight smut, mentions of alcohol, swearing, mentions of death, mentions of other members, eric is kinda toxic here :)

☆summary: after your last relationship you swore to yourself that you wouldn’t fall in love again but you change your thoughts when you see a little girl and her…very hot dad

disclaimer! all the people on this fic are pure imagination and are fake, they don’t relate to the real people at all.

STATUS: on going! ( 19. 10. 24 )

1 2 。。。

Chapter one

With your head leaning against the window, you watched desolately as nature moved before your eyes, molding itself to your speed-constrained gaze.

The vacations were over for you too and it was time to go back to school.

Lightly you sigh, remembering that now it is no longer you behind a desk listening to some depressed elderly woman tell the same story for the millionth time.

Nope, now on the other side of the classroom there’s you.

And in front of you are not hormone-filled teenagers but rather sweet children with so much curiosity in their hearts and eyes.

Teaching was something that always came naturally to you; ever since you helped your little brothers study by finding nice methods to make studying easier.

Or when your classmates would come begging for you to explain the lesson to them again.

Even explaining cell phone secrets to your grandparents came so well to you that you had ended up teaching the whole neighborhood.

In short, you hadn't chosen that job; it was like destiny, it had chosen you.

Still, going back to school remained the hardest thing of all, in spite of the years gone by.

The 6 a.m. wake-up call, the hurried breakfast and the early morning Parisian traffic were things that you would never get used to, especially after a week of peace in your mom's country home.

In Paris, the cold weather was beginning to set in and, tightly wrapped in your coat, you leaved the car parked in its usual spot, heading quickly for the school entrance, greeting Pierre, the facility's concierge, with a smile.

"Welcome back y/n! A new year begins!" he says in his rough voice worn by the years behind him.

"Good morning Pierre, well yes, it begins for everyone! Have the other teachers arrived yet?" you asked, leaving your coat and hat at the entrance and picking up your work uniform.

At the man's nod you smiled at him and then waved heading to the classroom you shared with another teacher (aka your best friend).

Once you entered the room you crossed the gaze of Vivienne who, as usually, was already chatting with the other teachers.

"y/n!" the girl shouted slightly, making several gestures for you to come closer.

Looking at her confusedly you approached the group, greeting everyone with a smile.

"What are you girls chatting about?" you asked once you arrived.

"About the new children, we have some big names in our appeals this year." one of the teachers, Claire, replied giggling.

You smiled slightly as you heard the girls gossip, letting the everydayness of that laughter cuddle you.

Before long, the first children began to arrive with parents hurriedly tossing them into the hands of the teachers and with a quick kiss and hug running off to work.

Each time these scenes warm your heart, seeing how these children break away from their parents' necks and attach themselves to yours, seeking comfort which they promptly receive.

By now you have learned what each of them likes and how to make them feel secure and loved even without mom or dad.

But in addition to all those familiar little faces and their little hands reaching up to greet you, you caught sight of a new little girl in the distance, all well-dressed and flanked by a tall man in a suit and tie.

Slowly you approached her, seeking the eyes of the little girl, who looked around curiously, holding her little dress in her hands. "Hello! What's your name?" You said once you knelt down in front of her.

The child groped slightly, swallowing animatedly.

"Isa..Isabelle," the little girl said, finally looking up and as she met your gaze you were completely stunned by the beauty that stood before you.

Two almond-shaped blue eyes surrounded by a pair of brown pigtails that were lightly covered by a blue hat.

"Isabelle," you began, smiling at her, "it's a pleasure to meet you! I am y/n, your teacher..." you then looked up at the man next to her who had not yet spoken a word "...is this your daddy?" you asked whispering to the little girl.

She smiled slightly and shook her head, moving those funny braids.

"No! this is Paul! He’s my friend though!" she smiled back at the man next to her, who smiled back and then returned to his composed position.

Slightly confused you stood up turning to him.

"So you are..."

"Miss Isabelle's secretary, ma'am."

"The..the secretary?" You asked confused.

The man nodded.

"Mr. Lee could not be present this morning so I accompanied the young lady."

You nodded slightly, shifting your gaze to the little girl who was now looking at you smiling.

You had seen many busy parents (almost every day) but all of them, at least on the first day of school, went out of their way to be able to wish their children a "good first day."

Letting out a long sigh to bring your mind back to peace you extended my hand to the little girl in front of you.

"Well? Shall we go together?" you asked her smiling to which the little girl responded by taking your hand energetically and, after saying goodbye to Paul, hopped beside you toward the classroom.

Happy first day, I guess?

︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶

The day passed in the best of ways, the children all introduced themselves to the newcomers and, as taught, managed to integrate them without too much trouble.

You were certainly glad to have such a diligent class.

After several activities and many dances with as many songs, the parents began to come one by one to retrieve their children, who with their little hands smeared with colors happily greeted by shouting a " See you tomorrow Teacher!" to which you happily reciprocated.

And as the classroom emptied there was Isabelle who, now alone, was coloring on a sheet of paper.

Glancing slightly at the clock you noticed that the end of school time had long passed and Vivienne had absented herself to help the other teachers clean the classrooms.

So you approached the little girl, sitting next to her on one of those tiny chairs.

"Isa! How was the first day?" you asked her, taking one of the now undone braids to put it back in order.

The little girl smiled happily as she looked at you.

"Good! I met so many friends! I like it!" she replied before returning back to her drawing.

You smiled as you saw the genuineness with which she happily colored her drawing, with disheveled lines.

The concern for her, however, remained constant within you.

"Should I call someone? I don't even have her parents' phone number..Should I ask her? Oh y/n stop it she is 5 years old what can she know about phone numbers."

The thousand thoughts were interrupted by the little girl's voice.

"Daddy!" she squeaked in her slight voice, getting up in a rush.

"Oh I'm so curious to meet this fool who leaves his daughter with someone-" but the moment you turned you head, your thoughts became cloudy.

And all the words you wanted to say died in your throat, now as dry as the desert.

In front of you, with the child in his arms, stood perhaps one of the most handsome men you had ever seen.

With a height to make models envious and with a face just as heavenly, you could finally understand where Isabelle's sweet face came from.

Trying to tidy yourself up slightly, you approached the two who were chatting on the doorway.

The man, noticing your presence, turned to look at you, and without meaning to, your heart missed a beat.

"Are you this famous teacher y/n?" he asked, smiling at you.

"Yes, yes I am, it's a pleasure" you replied, extending your hand, which was promptly shaken by his.

A too big, too soft and too strong hand.

"Lee Juyeon, Isabelle's father, thank you for helping my daughter today and I’m deeply sorry for the delay, I had several problems at work and could only get free now, I'm really sorry."

Suddenly every bad thought you had had about him was gone.

Only little hearts surrounded your thoughts.

"Oh! No problem really, Isabelle is a lovely child and being with her doesn't get me tired at all." you replied looking at the child as well, giving her a sincere smile.

"Teacher y/n is so nice! She even re-did my braids, look daddy!" the little girl said, taking her braids to show them off.

The man made an astonished face as he played along with the little girl.

"How beautiful sweetie! Surely they came out better than mine" he said laughing slightly.

"No no!" you said putting your hands forward, shaking them "They were gorgeous this morning too, they got slightly messed up during the dancing and I fixed them, nothing more!"

The man in front of you smiled slightly at you before returning his gaze to the little girl who was slightly nodding.

"Alright then, come on Isa, let's free the teacher to go home," he said, leaning her down to let her walk on her own.

"Say goodbye and thank you" he finished by prodding the little girl who turned around making a slight bow in thanks and then shook her little hand in greeting.

"See you tomorrow Teacher!" Isabelle said.

"See you tomorrow Isa!" you replied smiling at her and then turned your gaze to the man next to her.

"See you tomorrow Teacher" he also said smiling and causing you to miss a beat.

"See you tomorrow Mr. Lee" you replied slightly embarrassed by the angelic smile of the man who was now walking away hand in hand with the little girl.

With your hand over your heart you tried to calm the quickening pulse as that gossip girl of Vivienne popped up at your side.

"Damn he's so hot," she only said.

And goddamn he really is.

[phoenixeclipse-lmkau]

Can we know more about the monkey demoness? Will the chapters be from shadowpeach perspective always or will we see readers or demoness point of view? Does the demoness have a name? How much does the reader know of jttw and general knowlege about the lands ahe is in. Does she speak the language natuarlly or is it a case of magic transelate? If it is magic transelate can she read written words? Will reader win them over slowly or will there be one major action that wins them over? Will the monkey demoness be part of endgame relationship or just a friend? Would demoness try and protect reader from the monkeys when they go full yandere, run away or defer to the monkey king? Am i coreect in assuming its shadowpeach/reader or is it plaltonic yandere? Will reader become besties with the demoness? How did they meet up? Is this before or after jjtw? Or does jttw not happen? Will this be a horror yandere or a romance yandere story? Will reader suffer issues from culture clash? What will your reader be like? Shy? Confident? Will she wipe out from having to walk for 3 days straight or is this something she is used to? How much will reader sacrifice to protect the ‘cubs’? Would reader declare themelves the cubs defacto mum?

If something was answered in previos post sorry mobile wont let me check your blog without loosing all my questions, feel free to answer asmany or as little as u want. Sorry for spelling mistakes, i read your fic repeatedly instead of going to sleep

I found your blog by that story and its a good read, i cant wait for next chapter, in the meantime i will be scrolling backwards theough your blog and read the rest od your stories after i sleep

😳 Wow… I did not expect this big of an ask. For starters I love that you are enthusiastic about the AU, truly I am. It’s just could everyone please stick to 1-3 questions per ask? If you have several questions feel free to send me multiple asks, for now I’ll try to answer as many from this ask as possible. I might answer a few in another post, thank you for your understanding. Now, onto the answers!

- The monkey demoness’s name is Chu Spirit, at first I made her as a simple oc out of the blue! Now I see her as a big sister type of character to Reader, she will not be romantically involved with either Shadowpeach, or The Female Reader. She is energetic and kind not one to back down from a fight. (Will answer how she met Reader in a later post)

- I have a habit of posting perspective a little crazy, so you will get a chance to get Reader’s and Spirit’s perspective! That is almost guaranteed, in fact you’ll probably get more perspectives as well of other characters that will eventually be in the AU.

- So Reader knows about JTTW because she read a bit of it but never finished it. She found the story entertaining but before she could finish it, she kind of… Was pulled to this new world and is trying to find a way home. As for general knowledge? Yeah she has no idea where she is or how to get anywhere, so she kind of doesn’t have any yet.

- Language! I didn’t even think about that! Okay, so I think she’ll magically understand it. Sometimes that magic understanding will flicker though when she’s especially weak so she’ll have to actually learn the language, eventually. As for reading, no she can’t read words until she actually learns the language.

- I think Reader will win over the Warlords slowly and in a few big events yeah. It’s not right away but it doesn’t take too long especially with how much she is taking care of them. They will definitely fall in love with her as they get more and more used to her. As for some big events? Oh I have a few ideas already! You’ll have to wait and see those though. (Cause long ask, not that it’s bad!)

- Spirit will one hundred percent try to protect Reader from Yandere warlords. She sees Reader as a little sister who helped her when she needed it most, she will do anything to keep her safe. If she had known that the monkey cubs that grew so attached to Reader were warlords? She would have totally thrown them off a cliff to keep them away from Reader. No she will not defer to Monkey King or Macaque because she really doesn’t care about them and never has. (Personal past reasons)

- Yes you are correct to assume it’s romantic Shadowpeach x Reader. Nothing platonic about how Macaque and Wukong feel about Reader… There might end up being smut later, but not sure yet.

- Spirit sees Reader as a little sister and likewise eventually Reader will see Spirit as a big sister. They met when Reader saved her from some bandits (more explained later!)

- JTTW! Okay, so this story begins before JTTW. There will be JTTW in this AU and on that topic sort of Reader will be able to get back to her world. Either willingly or not I’m still debating.

- Horror or romance? I’d honestly say it’s a mix of both, because there will be blood and gore. Reader does care about them but they absolutely terrify her when they return to their original forms. And also because Wukong is impatient and doesn’t explain himself very well before trying to take her home.

- Culture clash… I’ll try to add a few scenes of culture clash into the story. Mostly with how she acts around other people because she doesn’t fall into their ‘normal’ Because ya know she’s a 21st century woman. One with a mind that she speaks when she pleases.

- I would say that Reader is more on the shy side when it comes to talking to other people, but when she’s talking to friends she can get rather loud and confident. She just isn’t all that great with strangers. Unless if they are animals that she decides to take care of.

- After her three day walk, so at first I was going to have it where she slept during it. But after this ask I changed my mind. Spirit has no idea about the human system other than they need food. And monkey demons don’t need as much sleep as humans do so she doesn’t realize that Reader is running on fumes at the start of the story. That is until she passes out, dropping like a rock for almost a whole day.

- She will defend them with her life! She loves animals of all kinds. She doesn’t see herself as their mom because I think it’d be weird with the romance and all. But she does see herself as a friend to them. She cares for them and will try to protect them with everything she’s got. Will probably get herself hurt a few times which these bois, do NOT like after they fall in love with her. How dare someone hurt their new mate friend.

Thank you so much for your ask! I just started this Au and if you have more questions then send me an ask! 1-3 per ask would be preferred with no limit to how many asks you send. Feel free to send several! I encourage it! I hope I didn’t miss anything and have a lovely day! (PS. If you want even more in depth answers just ask one or two of these questions back at a time and I’ll have more room to answer them in depth possibly write scenes about them. But I like to answer everything in the ask)

Feel free to send me more asks and I will be happy to answer as I develop this AU more! If you have suggestions also send those too!

[iznsfw]

Fic idea: Mommy contest eunbi vs irene

Predator & Prey

Part Four of Dulce Periculum | Previous Part | Next Chapter

Red Velvet's Bae Joohyun (Irene) x IZ*ONE's Kwon Eunbi x Male Reader Smut

7,994 words

Categories | principal!Irene x (jealous)girlfriend!Eunbi x student!You, mommy kink, cunnilingus, oral double blowjob, snowballing, cumswap, degradation, female cucking

Surprise, it was a spoiler! Had to move the time to avoid posting in the night lol So... this is dedicated to @subfortwice, who ignites the Dulce Periculum universe, @idevian whose tutor Eunbi ask started it all, to my birthday twin @eunbisrabbit who had the idea of the collarbone thing, and to best boi @sinswithpleasure. I appreciate everything and every one of you guys! And again, sorry for the usual self-indulgent style that the whole Dulce Periculum series is based on XD and the barely edited fic. Eunrene just drive me crazy

“You little brat.”

That’s the first thing you say the next time you see Eunbi at school. Not even a “hi” or a “how are you,” but when she’s set you up to fuck her teacher and led you into a trap, it’s definitely a nice way to open your little story. This tiny little thing of a story going down, down, down the rabbit hole. 

(Holes.)

It’s all her fault. She’s conveniently fended off your questioning of the incident at the Kwon household. Now, however, with her parents nowhere to save her from your schemes, you’ve got your eyes on her. Soon, your hands will be, too. She can’t escape now. 

Eunbi squeals in fear and excitement when you run after her. Alright, so maybe she can escape. That’s fair. You bump through masses of walking students, trying to find her in the crowd. It's impossible to not identify her when her glasses and wavy hair give her away, so your eyes remain locked on her like a sniper. Your hands just itch to get on her. 

Students pass you weird and amused looks. You and Eunbi, after all, are always on some dumb shit. However, you care not for it especially if ignoring them leads you to finally cornering your girlfriend in the backyard school garden. It's a dead end—no windows or doors are here for her to attract help. She's laughing, too, and screaming a little as you pin her to the high school building wall. 

"Mmm, oppa," she giggles between her squirms and struggles, "stop—"

"You think you were slick, Eunbi?" you ask. Your fist keeps her wrists above her head. What a pretty little twist of fate—if she lured you into the trap that's Kim Taeyeon, now you're the one tying her up into your makeshift trap. It's more satisfying than seeing Jo Yuri get scolded. "For whoring me out to that teacher you're so obsessed with?"

She nods mindlessly. "Yesss."

"Brat." Kiss her. She giggles. Of course, that prompts several other kisses. "That's what you are, you know. A little fucking brat." 

Your chest fills with happiness at how she smiles and laughs despite your teasing words. She knows you'd never do anything to hurt her. It's all a little fun play of words. A little skit, to be more truthful. 

Speaking of, there's some factualness to your words, too, and she knows it. Eunbi's crushed on Taeyeon for too long and sees her as an actual mommy that she isn't jealous of your little getaway with her at all. She's probably prouder than you'd assume of her idea. 

But of course, she denies it. Denies it with every inch of her annoyingly gorgeous body.

"Can you please forgive me, oppa?" Eunbi's eyes gleam. "I promise I won't slut you out to mommy again, I pinky promise!"

She's wearing the uniform Taeyeon borrowed, and thinking of how there's still some of your teacher on it, that there's a good amount of your cum embedded into its fabric, makes you more turned on than you should. Eunbi with her arms up in her tiny uniform is an added factor. 

But then there's also a few more classes to attend. You can't fuck her here. You'd love to more than anything, yet Eunbi has her priorities, and you don't want to hold her back.

Release her hands. "One day I'll get back at you," you warn. "You're really gonna get it."

You let her off with a warning. You can be the cop here—you'd cuff her hands with your fingers, tack them to a wall or mattress, teach her a lesson. Tear that cheeky smile off her face and replace it with the lewdest expression. But you're a good cop, or at least, as good as one can get. You know it's what she wants: to be punished incessantly, so you're not giving it to her. It would be putting out fire with fire.

You turn her heel to leave. Like so, you leave her unfulfilled and needy, which is exactly how you want her to be.

"Oppa!" whines Eunbi. She runs after you. "I'm sorry!"

You shut your eyes and laugh. In hindsight, you really shouldn't have. It would have shown you a dash of a shadow mooring and watching, and prepared you for what will happen later on. 

-

Let's just say later on a letter is written. You and Eunbi don't know it yet, but there is a letter—it's written in rehearsed formality, sent to the principal's office, and given by a person who's got more control than they should have. 

So, again, just for context: there's real parchment sent to her that ties this whole story together. There's a dual meeting, and a whole lot of evidence. Keep that in mind.

-

It's one giant teenage hell in the classroom.

The boys are gaming on their phones with the Filipino exchange student, who introduced them to League of Legends. The girls have flocked to the bathrooms arm in arm, while the others stay behind to braid some of their classmates’ hair. There’s messy chalked writing on the blackboard, some too explicit to even be allowed (“Wan-pipty for wan subo," courtesy of the Filipino student, of course, and although you don’t understand his language, you have a good idea of what it means), and others promoting their favorite K-pop groups (“stan BLACKPINK, you uncultured fucks!!!!!”, to which someone has replied: “Doesn’t everyone?”).

But what else can you expect from a batch of eighteen-year-olds, especially when it’s vacant time? 

That's right: exactly this.

Either-which-way, it’s a complete mess, is what you’re saying. There's no one around to keep the noisy mess contained, not even Eunbi, who's trying to vent her frustration through doodling on her notebook. She’s already drawn several plotless comics and a rabbit named Bi, but the noise still gets to her. It irks her soul so much that her hands squeeze up and loosen too much of a grasp on her pen.

Click. It bounces back up. You catch it with one swoop of your hand. You could be Spiderman in another life. Watch out, Tom Holland, or whatever. 

“God,” she says, looking up from her notebook with a frustrated, sarcastic smile, “do these people ever shut up?”

You chuckle. You’re an open fan of Eunbi breaking her kind, forgiving character and just growing tired of everyone’s bullshit. It’s an occurrence rarer than thunder coming before lightning, a once-in-a-lifetime show only a select few are allowed to see. She’s too kind, really, that although she's the lead role, she bails out of it often.

Gesture to the messy classroom and say, in a matter-of-fact voice: “Welcome to senior year.”

“Can you tell them to be quiet?” she asks.

“Miss Myoui said only you can.” Quote her: “‘You’re the president, right? You go tell ‘em.’”

Right, Eunbi says to herself. She’s been wrapped up in too many responsibilities—captain of the volleyball team, president of every school club you can think of, plus end-of-the-year valedictorian just to name a few—that she forgets that these positions even hold meaning. It’s the norm for her to be given the highest positions in each category that it’s quite tiring, if she were to be honest. But she has her mother to please, along with herself. She can’t let either of them down.

Sighing, she leans back into her chair. “I just wish everything would, like, stop for a moment.” She closes her eyes, as if to dream of that being possible. Unfortunately, the world goes on with or without the fantasizing. “I wish I could get a break.”

“Hey.” You pat her thigh and caress it above her short school skirt. “Cheer up. You don’t have to be so excellent all the time. You can just,” wring a hand in the air for emphasis, “you know, be okay. Average.”

“But my mom…” 

Sigh. You realize it’s easier said than done. While your parents are lenient and have gotten used to your low grades, your girlfriend’s aren’t that nice. You know that from your visits to the Kwon household. Her mother and father try to be subtle about the pressure, but there’s something in the air that passes and tenses that tells you there’s a lot more to the situation than you think. Whatever it is, it's clear that being a Kwon isn't that fun.

Sometimes you wish you could trade places with Eunbi and withstand her problems for her. You hate seeing her like this. 

“Your mom?” a menacing new voice asks. “Or would you rather say… mommy?”

Eunbi’s eyes open suddenly and enlarge. She recognizes that word, and unfortunately, she remembers using it on someone she shouldn't have been with. So do you, for which you turn your gaze upwards. 

Of course it’s Jo Yuri. She’s your mortal enemy dressed in deceiving innocent school uniform. She’s wearing a knowing smile on her face. It always means bad news, and right now, the main topic of it is you. 

What does she know? Most importantly: why did she say that? 

In your anxiety, you can’t even defend yourself or your girlfriend.

“Y-Yuri—” stammers Eunbi, the look in her eyes being one of a deer caught in headlights. She’s a terrible liar at heart, so even if she were able to finish her sentence, it would have come out oddly. Probably even add up to proof of her guilt.

Yuri smirks proudly. “I know all about your dirty little secret, Eunbi,” she says. “About what you did with professor Kim while everyone was at the Intrams… about what you called her…”

Every step she takes rounding your cluster spells trouble, and you can’t say you didn’t bring it upon yourself. However, you're still scared to death.

“Cut it,” you say. Even for a troublemaker, your voice trembles. Not a good look… er, sound, rather. “We don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Your head races with anxious thoughts and distress. How did Yuri know about that little session you had with Taeyeon? Were you guys that loud? Perhaps she had a source or spy nearby? You've no idea which one it is, and that's what scares you more than the consequences.

Eunbi's silent, refusing to speak. She looks anywhere but Yuri's eyes. Her ears are red and it's impossible to denote anything from the two of you but obvious guilt.

“Oh, is that so?” Yuri pouts mockingly. "Guess you'll have no reason to talk to principal Bae right"—she checks her watch, then smiles widely—"now."

The speaker attached to the wall of your classroom buzzes, catches the attention of everyone and says: "Will miss Kwon from 12-A and her boyfriend please come down to the principal's office?"

Okay, so maybe you are scared of the consequences just as much as you're scared of how Yuri found out.

Everyone's looking at you now. How could you feel so cold yet so hot at the same time? Everybody's eyes are burning holes in your skin, and your spine's undergone several chills that you feel numb already. 

Are you even alive? 

Your breaths are bated and Eunbi's shifting in her seat nervously. You should have seen this happening. Yuri's had a vendetta against the two of you ever since you and Eunbi got together. She's haughty, she's proud, she's rich—and for that, she's got her sources everywhere, can even manipulate official school results through pure influence. You hate yourself for being a terrible boyfriend and letting this happen to Eunbi. 

Yuri smiles as you and Eunbi rise from your seats. She waves goodbye at you coyly, and leaves everyone in the room confused. Each one of them, even the boys gaming at the back, are wondering the same thing word-for-word: what happened?

-

You don't speak while taking the stairs with her, and neither does she. You don't tell her that you're dizzy from the curving paths and she doesn't say how cold her hands are. However, you both know so, since you're both reluctant and afraid to meet the principal and didn't expect it to reach this point. It's your fault and hers, equally split, the modern day Adam and Eve. Could Yuri be the snake? Would God banish you? 

Probably, but you had it coming.

The steps you take are slow. You're afraid of what might come. But you suppose nobody's more afraid than Eunbi. She's the face of the school for the honors she's achieved. Everything can go wrong with one wrong move, and that's what this is. She put everything on the line, not expecting anything to happen, only for it to be taken all away.

Once you reach the ground floor, Eunbi suddenly grabs your wrist. Her small hand can only wrap around half of it, but her hold is tight. It carries meaning in its tightness, urging you to look at her.

"Oppa, j-just want to say…" She looks down at her school shoes in shame. "I'm sorry for pulling you into this."

You're not mad at her. You can never be. You're just… regretful. If you hadn't let lust propel your actions, maybe there wouldn't be reason for the two of you to be down here. You've been sent to the principal's office countless times, but this is the first time you're actually scared. What more when it's with Eunbi? She's never gotten in trouble before.

"Don't be," is all you say. "Let's just get it over with, okay? Together?" 

Mold your hand to fit hers, and she's smiling again, in spite of what's about to come.

You make the first move to knock. Eunbi nearly cries as she watches your knuckles meet wood. You wrap an arm around her and enter.

Long time, no see. Bae Irene's office is as grand as ever. Seems like this is where the tuition fees go: grand marble floors, a statue of a naked Greek goddess, and a fine desk that sits in the center of the room. Certificates, awards, and medals stack the shelves and walls that put even Eunbi's achievements to shame. Perhaps they're what intimidate her more than the woman standing in front of the desk.

"Good afternoon, miss Bae," you say. 

In certain angles, the principal looks just like Eunbi. Or maybe it's the other way around? The glasses don't help differentiate them. That makes you understand why people have a theory that there's a kind of narcissism in Irene that made her put Eunbi as the face of the school. 

What else can you expect from Irene, anyway? She's older, wiser, and tougher. The last one bears repeating. That by itself should be good enough justification as to why you shouldn't have fucked Taeyeon, why you shouldn't be such a troublemaker. God knows she's tired of seeing your face in here. She’d expect Eunbi would have a good influence on you, but instead, you've turned your poor girlfriend into a nymphomaniac. 

Maybe everything about this is your fault after all.

Irene knows this. "You've turned your girlfriend into one of yours, hm?" she asks. Rhetorical question or not, all three of you know the answer. "First time seeing you here, miss Kwon."

"Miss Bae," says Eunbi timidly. She's trying a diplomatic approach here—it's all she knows in navigating life. Unfortunately, it won’t work here. "We're sorry. It won't happen again."

She smiles condescendingly. "So you know why you're here."

Irene's peaceful yet scary tone is exactly the reason for her English name, derived from the goddess of peace. She looks the part, too. Her pale skin can be the marble used to carve her most holy altar, and her sharp gaze can be replicated in it. She's like an older and more intimidating counterpart of Eunbi. She's smart as well, but not afraid to show it.

"I—I’m sorry," Eunbi says, realizing she's cornered into confession. It's as if all her speaking skills have evaporated in this room. It makes her nervous; you know so because her hand’s almost deathly cold in your touch. "We'll do anything to make it right." 

Irene clicks her tongue. "It doesn't work that way, miss Kwon. You two had sexual relations with a teacher. It isn't something that can be resolved with community service."

How did she know? You think and think, and all your suspicions, though they jump from Taeyeon (she's in the wrong here, too, so why should she be suspected when she's at as much risk in getting trouble?) to Minju (why the angel, out of all people?) to anybody else, all lead to one person: 

Jo Yuri. Of course it was her. But how?

You suppose that doesn't matter now that you're in Irene's office again. What's worse is that you brought Eunbi with you, the one person you swore you wouldn't toss into all your trouble. It feels like betraying her and everything your relationship has promised.

"Look," you say, taking a step forward, "we're sorry. Really. But please just let me take the blame. Suspend me or something. Just please don't hurt professor Kim or Eunbi, miss Bae."

"How touching, Kim Taeyeon's got you head over heels for her. I wonder what made you like her that much."

"Nothing, miss Bae. It was… just a one-time thing."

"I see, so the word 'mommy' doesn’t ring a bell?"

You stiffen. So does Eunbi, suddenly losing grip of your hand and losing her balance a little. In conclusion: yea, that word rings not only a bell, but a whole fucking gong in your mind.

Of course, Irene sees through this and rolls her eyes to heaven, as if she were making fun of you telepathically to an unknown deity. "Oh, so it does, huh?" she says, lifting her hands in the air. It's obvious, really, and she should have expected it. "Of course. One woman treats you like shit during sex and you drool for her. Of-fucking-course."

Your professional principal daring to curse in front of her students catches you off guard. But you know that, despite this, she's right. There are a lot of deeply internalized issues in you and Eunbi that would have reserved the right to be connected to the fling. These issues are the reason you like Taeyeon after all, but justifying the situation using them won't help your case at all. Irene doesn't take kindly to beggars of pity.

She walks over to the two of you. You subconsciously back away. It's instinctive, and you really should have gone through with what your gut tells you when the woman continues.

"I wonder how you ended up with miss Kwon then, if that's your type." Irene approaches her lookalike and laughs a little. "This little girl can't even get on top without begging for your dick five seconds later."

"That's not true," Eunbi stutters. She tenses up when the older woman strokes her shoulders. "I, I take control all the time, miss Bae. You can't just assume…"

If whatever's going on weren't putting your life at stake, you'd let out the biggest laugh to ever be heard by man. It's just insanely untrue. Eunbi's the most passive girl you've had the blessing to be with. It's just not in her to dominate in the bedroom. Debates and civil arguments in school are all things she tops, but when it comes to you, it's just out of the question.

"Then show me," Irene says. Massaging the girl's shoulders, her smirk creates a new punishment for you to abide by. "Show me how you control your bad little boyfriend."

The anxious, whimpering Eunbi has no time to think about how fucked up this is. She grabs your shoulders and pushes you to Irene's desk. She kisses you clumsily, tearing your uniform with shaking hands. 

Her lips create a path downwards your chest. She unbuckles your belt and drops to her knees. You breathe through your teeth when her mouth works itself on your cock. Down, up, down, up, and a sweet little kiss at the tip. Perfect for you, but not for your principal, who has higher standards, apparently.

Irene smirks, shaking her head pitifully. "Darling," she says before she kneels before you, too, "you really don't know how to do this, do you?"

Eunbi shakes her head. The fact that she's ashamed is, unlike her claim earlier, not a lie.

"Ah." In a sudden affectionate and motherly act, Irene rubs the student's thigh. "You're better off being a good little girl, is that it?" 

"Mmm. Yes."

“You’d rather be your oppa’s submissive little doll? Do anything he wants?”

“Y-yes, miss Bae.”

"That won't do here. You have to pay for what you've done, or else it wouldn't be fair."

Eunbi whines. Is it in protest or pleasure? Irene's fingers have crept under her skirt and to regions they're supposed to be restricted from. The cause is probably a mix of both, but you can guess what they're doing when you see Eunbi grinding down on your principal's hidden hand. 

"How about this?" Irene offers to you. "Miss Kwon and I will take turns on you. We test out who can dominate you better, and whoever does gets to do whatever they want to the rest."

"Miss Bae—" 

Irene pulls her fingers out of Eunbi and spanks her. Your girlfriend gasps and her hips flinch. Yeah,  apparently, there's no way to back out of this. "Close the door, slut. Lock it. You, shut the blinds. I don't want to get in trouble for fucking you spoiled brats."

There's truly no resistant bone in Eunbi's body with how quickly she scampers to the door. You can't say you're any better. You and your girlfriend obey the principal's orders like you're her pets, and perhaps that's a little true. Maybe this is the beginning of something new. Something a little screwed up, yeah, but new.

Whatever this is, you hope it'll get you out of getting your life royally fucked over. You used to not give a damn if that ever happened, but when Eunbi's on your side, you become more cautious. 

(If you were in a better state of mind, you’d recognize how having sex with your principal can and will contribute to your cautiousness going to no avail, but you’ve got two gorgeous women kneeling in front of you. What else is better than this?)

"Sit down." Irene pushes you down her swivel chair. "We're gonna have fun with you first. Call this a little," she winks, "practice session."

Your heart almost stops. You're thrust down even more into the cushion, and the foreign feeling of the principal's tongue provides an aching rush of blood to your cock. Meanwhile, Eunbi attends to your heavy balls, licking and sucking at the sensitive flesh. 

Your skin is on fire. The two beautiful women smear their salivas on your erection. Their tongues collide at times, making Eunbi recoil in shock at times, but not for too long that your penis is devoid of attention. Irene doesn’t mind at all. She’s fine with the occasional dab of her tongue on Eunbi’s mouth, and coating the sheen of saliva she’s left with more. No inch is left needy—while Irene teases your base with sharp licks between smirks, the other girl sloppily makes out with your dickhead. 

"Stop. You don't want your boyfriend here to think he can do anything he wants to you.” Irene’s rough fist stiffens the mast of your erection, and although it's pleasurable, it's also painful. Her speed is too much for a start to the show. "You need to put him in his place. Do it because you want to feel good about it, not him."

"B-but…"

"I'll show you."

Eunbi departs from your crotch and Irene does… well, nowhere near leaving, that's for sure. It's like your cock was just liquid streaming down her throat with how fast she takes you in. Her mouth is small, but she swallows it all expertly. Her hands tie your thighs down to the chair.

Being in Irene's mouth is a wet dream. Literally. Her slick tongue and cheeks rub your tip. They're just appetizers for the main course: her delectable throat that's thin and tight on you. She's almost forcing you to deal with her relentless blowing, betting her career that you can't withstand it. She doesn't need innocent, Bambi eyes to make it appealing when she has that goddess-like face, yet you have to prove her wrong.

But then she wraps her soft, jutted lips around your base and elegantly slides them up with puckered suction. She's not even fucking your rod with her throat anymore and you automatically say something you shouldn't have:

"Mommy, please."

Irene stops and smiles at Eunbi. "See what I'm saying?" she says with overflowing satisfaction. "It just comes naturally to him, doesn't it? Now it's your turn. Make me proud."

The pupil obeys. When has she ever done anything but that? You aren't complaining, though; her pretty mouth ranks up in their competition. 

The two women are so different in so many different ways. Eunbi's gentle blowing, her eyes glimmering with broken innocence that always dart to your face to see if you're enjoying, is far from Irene's harsh one. She bluntly licks at your tip, sparking precum to drip into her mouth, before she slowly takes it all in. Again, widely different compared to Irene's experienced swallow, but who's keeping note? You sure aren't; you're just glad to have the best of both worlds.

"That's a good girl," Irene says. She gathers Eunbi's hair into a makeshift ponytail to help her out. "Don't be afraid to go a little crazy. If you do a good job I might just play with your cute little pussy."

Eunbi shuts her eyes and moans. Your breath is long gone with how her soft, pleasured sounds vibrate on your cock. If that weren't enough, she's lifting her head up and down with a pace that's a little quicker than before, nudging your cock deep inside her mouth. It's past that, actually; your cockhead slips down the end and bears the overwhelming feeling of her airway blocked by your girth.

"M-mmmph!"

"Aw, poor girl's choking," Irene remarks mockingly. "What's the matter, miss Kwon? Can't take it?"

Eunbi tries to surprise her by taking it all down. Unfortunately, it’s too much for her. Instead, she whimpers and chokes. 

While she gags, you moan without shame. "I'm gonna cum, baby," you announce. Your cock feels like it's going to burst with her throat spasming around it. 

Her lips tighten around your tip. It successfully manages to flow your cum directly into her mouth. Irene jacks you off to help out. The younger girl's mouth is soon flooded with the natural waterfall of your cum. It could turn into a natural disaster; Eunbi’s already struggling to save all your load. 

"Don't swallow it. Come here."

Irene forces Eunbi's face to hers and kisses her deeply. Your girlfriend's hands are frozen in the air as they share your cum. The older woman’s hand imprisons her jaw in place so she can greedily collect your cum from the passive mouth. You see the shimmer of your semen as it’s passed from one tongue to another, hear the breathy moan of your girlfriend, feel your cock become more solid.

Irene swallows whatever she's gotten and, as an end to the makeout session, licks the other girl's plump, cumstained lips. "Ah, you’re really delicious," she says. "And your girlfriend's so cute. No wonder professor Kim likes you two so much."

You’re still in shock at the sight, but the mention of your professor gets you to make another comparison with said woman. She and Irene are alike, too, but differ so much as well. They’re both violent, but at least Taeyeon has a nice streak in her; she attended to you after the violent copulation in the classroom. Irene's gentle gestures are done only to please her will. But even with those contrasting traits set in the Venn diagram, you can't choose between the two of them: the dominant principal or the quietly pretty professor? 

Irene pulls Eunbi's hair mercilessly, yanking her head backwards and exposing her beautiful neck. "It's just too bad that she's terrible at being a mommy," she murmurs. Her fingers trace the large tits threatening to burst out of the buttoned fabric. "Such a perfect body for it, but completely useless."

"Oppa, that's not true, right?" asks Eunbi, squirming. "I'm good at being your girl, aren't I?"

"Who was a better mommy, baby boy? Me or her?"

It's not even a question. As much as your heart is biased towards the girl who owns it, it's obviously—

"You, mommy."

"Oppa!" Eunbi protests. She looks genuinely hurt. It's the first time she's ever been second place in anything, and it hits her right where it's already sore.

Irene's grin is smug. It's beautiful, but actually terrifying. It's a sign that everything will only go downhill from here. "What should I do with you two now, hm?" 

"Please,” says Eunbi. Struggling to compose herself now that the principal is playing with her breasts, she fights to say anything without moaning. “Please give me one more chance, mom– miss Bae… please, I'll be good—oh, I'll be so good—"

Your principal drags Eunbi up by her hair. "Stand over there if you're so good, mommy." One swift push sends her stumbling to the edge of her desk. 

Eunbi, sniffling through her tears, awaits her next order. There's something in her face aside from the wet tears; it's a tale of how much she wants to be as good as Irene at using you that competes with her desire to please her. She's been a people-pleaser all her life, and it's hard to break its shackles, especially when Irene orders her to grind herself down the end of her desk, with one rule:

“Don’t cum until I say so.”

The panties slip off her plentiful thighs. She closes her eyes as she settles her nub over the edge of the wooden desk. Slowly, she starts to move.

"F-fuck." Eunbi places a shaking palm over her mouth.

"Exactly what your boyfriend's going to do to me," quips Irene. "See, this is how you put a man in his place." 

She tears her pencil skirt apart with no hesitation. After, she confidently sits on your lap, filling her cunt to the hilt. You tense up; her round ass on your lap is a blessing alone, but when it comes to her cunt, it’s a whole heavenly reward. Although Irene speaks and acts with nothing other than confidence, if not arrogance, her pussy is too tight for your cock to even pulse. When it barely does, her textured velvety walls cease it with a firm clench.

“Holy shit, mommy. You’re so”—between gritted teeth, you groan and rest your hands on Irene’s ant waist—“fucking tight.”

“I know,” says Irene. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

The whole situation is sinful. Watching your girlfriend having nothing to do but touch herself on the inanimate object and helplessly watch the two of you fuck is one thing, but Irene’s perfect ass on your lap is in another world. Galaxy might be more accurate. The melody of their moans causes you to struggle in keeping yourself from cumming too fast, but it’s already a challenge with Irene’s pussy fucking itself on you. She’s as tight as she looks, and probably would have been the ruinable type if she weren’t the way she is.

She leans back into your chest and caresses the side of your face with a surprisingly gentle hand. With timed movements, she lifts herself off and on your erection. Her folds splay apart to welcome you inside, into a whole, slick world. “I guess he’s all mine now, yeah?” she asks Eunbi. “He seems to like mommy better, Eunbi-ya.”

When she’s fingered and forced the girl to sexually stimulate herself on her table, there’s no need for even the polite formalities. There’s not even a chance for it to resurface when Eunbi’s already tearing up. 

“Oppa likes me, too,” she says. The jealousy brewing like a potion cauldron inside her drives her gyrations on the desk to go faster. It’s a fucked up coping mechanism for the sight in front of her. “You still like me best, don’t you, oppa?”

“Of course… fuck”—forget what you’re saying when Irene grinds her hips in circles and bounces her ass cheeks into your lap—“of course I do.”

She certainly knows her way around a dick. Her seductive rounds on your crotch and the measured riding just tell you that she’s had way more than enough experience in this realm, which, in terms of that, places her first. Eunbi’s a sore loser who doesn’t like that fact, but you can’t rig her a place anyway.

“But listen to how he’s moaning, babygirl,” Irene points out. You really don’t intend to moan again in order to avoid hurting Eunbi’s feelings, but Irene keeps a consistent squeeze of her vaginal walls on you and makes all go awry. “He loves my pussy. He loves it when I use him. I presume it’s not the same when it’s with you?”

Try to shut her up by rubbing her clit, but she only murmurs a series of “yes”’s. Besides, the damage, although fired from simple words, is already done; Eunbi’s quivering bottom lip is as clear as day.

“He loves me,” she whines. She squeezes the table tighter, as if the vicinity of the wood can help magick up a proper way to get her to become the mommy she just isn’t. “Hnn. He, he likes me because I’m a good girl.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Irene says, her sarcastically rolled eyes unimpressed. “You’re young. You should know being good is outdated. If he likes it, then he shouldn’t be fucking me right now.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” you say. You stop thrusting upwards into Irene, but she keeps bouncing. The stimulation remains constant. 

You really can’t find your way out of this. Irene’s weight, though light, keeps you on the chair and void of anything to do to break it all up. Your legs already feel weak at her pace. It’s as if she’s completely unaware of how tight and wet she is and therefore subjects you to it, thinking that you can handle it. But of course, she’s an intelligent, self-aware woman—she knows her effect on you, and she isn’t hesitant to exploit it.

Eunbi sobs as she grinds down the edge of the table harder. She can’t take watching you and Irene fuck anymore. "Mommy, please.”

"’Mommy’? Not putting up a fight anymore, are you, pretty little girl?" Irene asks. She pouts mockingly. "Gonna give up?"

Eunbi shakes her head. "No…"

"Alright, if you aren’t, use me. Use your boyfriend. We’ll see what happens."

Your girlfriend bursts into tears. It’s no mere tear sliding down her cheek anymore. It’s a whole fiasco of whiny crying and childish protests. Of course, it’s not in her to fight Irene. She’s remained a diplomatic civil debater, not a physical one. At times she doesn’t even counter an argument, similar to now, when she weakly replies, "B-but I don’t know how.”

“Come on. You’re smart, aren’t you? You can win over me.”

“Mmm, please just let me cum, mommy. Please."

"Do it. I dare you."

"Mommy—"

"Do it."

"I—I can't!" Eunbi says this in a tone that’s nearly a scream as she struggles to keep herself standing. "Please don't take him away from me, I'm a good girl, I swear, I swear!"

“Oh, look at her, baby.” Irene strengthens the force of her riding. It draws you nearer to an orgasm. “She wants you so bad. She wants to be your mommy so bad.”

Eunbi’s explicit moans and Irene’s soft gasps contribute equally with the silken pussy in draining you. You fill Irene up to the brim. As she stands, white drips down her naked legs.

“You want to be a mommy so bad?” 

Irene slips her fingers inside herself, scooping out white liquid, then walks over to the quaking valedictorian. Under the guise of the skirt, she sticks the cum-stained fingers into the needy little hole.

“Then fucking be one.”

“Mommy!” 

Eunbi screams when Irene stuffs her cunt and fingers her violently. Her legs close together, and suddenly she’s creaming all over the fingers moving unabashedly inside her. Wetness is wrung out repeatedly, and strings of arousal connect and disconnect between the joined fingers.

“Mommy, miss Bae, hnnn…” mumbles Eunbi, mind fogged with pleasure, “mommy—”

“Shhh, that’s a girl, miss Kwon,” Irene says as she offers the nectar-coated fingers to the girl’s mouth. Eunbi gladly accepts. 

To your surprise, Irene seems gentle this time. She pats your girlfriend’s back firmly, even wiping the drool on her lips. Maybe it’s the satisfaction of making both a girl and a boy orgasm. That’s all you can guess.

“You haven’t fucked me like you did mommy,” Eunbi protests. “I want you, too, please?”

“You heard the girl,” Irene says. She’s all for another go. She seems to be the only one not tired between the three of you. Her arrogant smile has not once lost its shine. “She wants to be fucked. Or do you not like her little pussy the same way you love mine?”

That triggers Eunbi to look up with tearful eyes. “Oppa, do you…?”

“Of course not. You can have me all you like.”

“Darlings,” pipes in Irene, “you seem to be forgetting someone here. That isn’t part of the deal.”

Of course. You’re still under the invisible contract she set. As the obvious winner of the battle of wills and domination, she gets to have the nicer end of the deal: to do anything she wants with the two of you. Whatever happens here has to involve her. No one’s going to be left out here.

How should it go?

“I want that mouth on my pussy, miss Kwon,” decides Irene, sitting on her throne (AKA as the swivel chair.) “And I want you to fuck her. Really fuck her. I want to see her break.”

So that’s how it goes, since Eunbi’s too kind to propose another way. She crawls between Irene’s legs, greedily eating the cum out of her, while you pound her from behind. 

Eunbi’s wide hips are just irresistible. They fit right into your hands and serve as anchors to pull you in and out of her. The skirt, instead of infuriating you with how much it blocks your view of her ass and grippy pussy, drives you more insane.

And when you look up, there’s Irene, with her legs spread wide for Eunbi to stay. It’s nice of the deities to create a world where there are so many beautiful women, and for two to be right by your side currently. Maybe you gotta thank the Greek statue that’s privy to the whole thing—you’re pretty sure she’s part of the whole god gang. Whatever. 

Irene’s hands aren’t sedentary. They tug onto the wavy hair for its owner to tongue her core more. The pussy-eating thing is an act of jealousy from Eunbi, really—part of the reason she agreed to eat her out is so she can drink your cum straight from where you deposited it. Safe to say it’s a win-win situation.

“Fuck, you’ve got a good mouth, miss Kwon,” says Irene. She bites her lip, and hisses. “Just like that.”

Even with all she’s done to her, Eunbi mewls in appreciation. Or maybe it’s your cock causing that. Yeah, definitely your cock. You make it a purpose to stretch her out and keep her pretty cunt stuffed. Gently stimulate her bundle of nerves for her skirted ass to reverse back into your crotch.

“Oppa—” Eunbi says, her voice reaching another high pitch due to the pleasure.

“I didn’t say you could stop,” Irene sharply reminds her. “Don’t stop or he won’t fuck you anymore.”

Eunbi gets back to work, moaning after you penetrate her again. You may have fucked Irene, but she still remains in control here. She just solidifies her place in the little contest she and Eunbi had. Your girlfriend, ever the grumpy loser, vents her frustration in eating her principal out, evoking broken gasps from her.

“Aw, don’t be too jealous, Eun,” you say to Eunbi. Her tight pussy is an everyday heaven you, a sinner, are given a free pass to relish in. “You’re still my good girl.”

You can feel her cunt tighten at your words. Eunbi closes her eyes and whimpers while she sucks on Irene’s clit. Her nose presses against the older woman’s flat stomach. 

“She really likes being called that, huh?” chuckles Irene, ruffling Eunbi’s hair. 

“She does.” Thrust into her particularly hard. “She’s a sweet girl.”

Eunbi’s body trembles. Unable to deal with the flood of praises, she tonguefucks Irene’s hole harshly, suppressing her heavy breaths in the pink flesh. 

“Is that what you want to be, miss Kwon?” Irene allows Eunbi to take a breather and lifts her chin up, but renders her breathless anyway with the next set of words. “Mommy and daddy’s sweet little girl?”

The girl’s walls twitch around you, and you hear her whine again. She’s always like that, the poor thing, but now, it’s urgent—it goes on, prolonged with need and desire, that you have to pull her into your lap, cock still lodged inside her, and say: “Use your words, baby.”

She’s a little taken aback, but she’s nodding. Breathing through her mouth in shaky little exhales, Eunbi nods. “Y-yes, please,” she says, as if in a trance. “Mommy. Daddy.”

You and Irene don’t get along too well due to your history of troubles, but you immediately understand each other when you gaze into each other’s eyes. You don’t say a word, but there’s no need for any when her lips are already on Eunbi’s. 

It’s a quick change of positions. You bring her over to the desk again. This time, she’s not merely here to watch, but to indulge in the pleasure of having the two of you at the same time. Buttons fly in the air as Irene rips the school blouse apart. She bares the bouncing tits of any bra then immediately goes to worshiping them. Eunbi’s nipple ends up in her mouth and hardens at the suckles. It was as if she were determined to draw out milk from them. 

“Look at you,” she says. Irene admires the round, full bosom before her, tracing a hand along the flesh. “Walking around with a body like this shouldn’t be allowed.”

“Mommy,” says Eunbi. She shivers when you fill her up. “Daddy, please. I’m yours.”

“Oh, you are.” Irene plays with the perfect collarbone for a while before edging her hand up to her throat. There, she squeezes tight. “Trust me.”

You squeeze Eunbi’s breasts and kiss them. You don’t think there would ever be a time you wouldn’t appreciate her beautiful tits. Irene seems to have discovered their beauty, too, for the two of you start to worship them. Irene takes left, you go right. Each one provides more than a supple amount of softness that with each bite, squeeze and suck makes Eunbi clamp down on your cock more. 

“Baby boy,” Irene whispers. She’s never looked this motherly, yet so seductive. “Remember when I said I wanted you to break her? I still expect you to do it.”

“I’d want nothing more,” you reply.

“Daddy, mommy, w-what are you going to do to me?”

“Bend over, miss Kwon,” instructs Irene, “we’re going to give you what you want.”

Eunbi happily does, and thanks her by slipping her fingers inside her. They immediately set a quick pace to keep her on her toes. 

“God, fuck her,” Irene says. “She’s earned it.”

Your girlfriend’s never been so glad to hear something from the principal. The praise earlier is a close competitor, but when these words are the cause of your cock to begin thrusting again, she still prefers these. 

“Fuck, daddy!”

You match the pace of her fingers in Irene’s pussy. You choose to go brutally, putting her out of her long misery by filling her over and over again. 

“Daddy, daddy, daddy, please!” Her eyes are shut, and her body is still except for the movements driven by your thrusts, but her fingers still fuck Irene’s waiting pussy. She’s a true multi-tasker, this girl. 

How many times has she begged like this today? You don’t know, but it’s the first time that she’s calling you the name. It surprises even yourself that it turns you on. It drives a forbidden feeling deep in your chest that’s exactly what fuels your thrusts. 

She’s finally fulfilled after being kept at the side for practically the whole time, so her screams are also of relief. She squirts so goddamned easily that each thrust is slick and messy. Her folds spare not a second of releasing your cock. No, it holds on, and it’s all too messy. Sinful. Incredibly immoral. 

“That’s it, take my cock, Eunbi,” you groan. The words just come naturally to you, because when she’s absolutely writhing underneath you and her pussy is that tight, you become a philosopher with a way with words. You can write several doctrines about how fucking ruinable she is, how her body’s just fit for your cock, how her thin whines are strung out so deliciously that you could never think of stopping. 

After everything that’s happened, she’s still your girl. She’s still the one you want to take to bed. She’s just that good.

“Daddy, mommy, fuck—me!” she screams. Eunbi’s tears come flowing back. They pour down her pretty face and onto the desk. If there was paperwork getting done on this desk, they’re replaced by Eunbi.

You think she’s gone crazy. Her voice is strained and her fingers almost painfully shove themselves in Irene, like they’re machine-controlled. All different sounds are extracted from her sore throat: moans, screams, and gasps—you think you’ve broken her.

You guess that’s enough payment for Irene.

Irene’s groans and cries are loud; her legs squeeze around Eunbi’s wrist. “D-don’t fucking stop,” she warns. You sense that there’d be more than what punishment is if the girl dares to halt. Eunbi knows better than to, anyway. She continues fingering Irene, exploring the cave of her tight hole and pressing down on her G-spot. 

Eunbi closes her eyes as Irene’s cum sprays her. Now she really looks ruined. She’s already covered in her tears and drool. You guess that soon, she’d be covered in you.

You slip out to flick your cock against her clit. 

“Ahhh, daddy!”

“That’s right. Cum for daddy, baby.”

“Y-yes, yes, yes, fuck, daddy! Keep rubbing my clit like that, it feels so good… it feels so warm, please don’t stop!”

“Cum for me.”

“Daddy!” wails Eunbi. 

Everything is a mess of moans and squirting. Eunbi screams in pleasure, shaking as her folds remain determined to swallow every inch of your cock even after her orgasm, and Irene’s to your left riding her digits, crying out as if she were in a war. And you guess that yea, maybe it is a war—a war of good and evil, a war of the overachievers (that brings a chuckle out of you), a war of sex. 

But in the end, in a feat that no one’s ever seen, everybody wins.

-

Dear Ms. Jo,

This is regarding your recent concern about Ms. Kwon Eunbi. 

I find that the evidence you provided to me is altered and has been tampered with. After further questioning with teachers and staff, I can conclude that your concern is dismissed and shall only subject you to disciplinary action.

It is strictly prohibited to spread harmful falsehood about your fellow schoolmates. Please see me after class tomorrow.

Sincerely,

Principal Bae Irene/Joohyun

[justarandompersononthehellsite]

So... @muffinlance wrote a really awesome story. I read a post from a point in time, though I truly do not remember when since it seems like I've been working on this project forever, saying that she gives blanket permission for people to print and bind the story into a book (I think there was an also addendum saying that they do not give permission to be sold, since selling fic is illegal). This fic has had total control over my whole brain since it was sent to me (@creatorofthemind I believe it was you, so thank you forever for tuning me into it) back during the days of like chapter six or seven.

So here I am now, sharing this amazing journey of my first ever bookbinding adventure. Further reading below.

So to give you an idea of what's going on, this is a fanfiction about Zuko (Avatar the Last Airbender) (animated show version, the LA show did not exist yet and we do not speak of the movie) being adopted by Hakoda, Father of Katara and Zuko. (This might have also been what kicked off the Give Zuko A Parent craze, but don't fact check me.)

Overall, the characters from the show stick very well to the cannon versions, but where MuffinLance really shines is in the rich backstories and fleshed out feeling of all the non cannon elements. Especially the background characters. I would argue that the writing in this peice of fanwork could easily rival the cannon show at many points of comparison.

Now that you have context, we can get into the actual process.

To start, I used this guide to figure out where to even begin, and fount the included resource list to also be quite helpful. I cannot for the LIFE OF ME figure out where I found the template I used for the front matter and such, but it must be somewhere and I will link to it when I inevitably come across it again.

Then I began to typeset. This step took... a long time. I worked in chunks from about September of 2022 to late March of 2024. I would get a big section done, sometimes even the entire thing, but then find I hated the way I had done it and give up for months at a time. Such is the life of ADHD and flitting interest in projects I suppose.

And then finally, step one was done, and I was left with pages on a word document that look like this. (And do please let me know if you want the link to the document. It was so much work, and I would love to not be the only one to use it.)

Next step was printing out this beast. Ended up being about eight pages of front matter, and about 630 pages of body text.

That I printed wrong.

Twice.

Before finally getting it right. And then not getting a picture of it, because I finished at 4 am and had work at 7, and am also an idiot.

Then I simply stitched along, putting everything together into a beautiful text block.

And came up with a design for the cover.

Yes the glue did end up lumpy. Ignore it.

Yes I did have to sketch out the design onto a scraped page several times before I figured out what I was doing. Ignore that too.

The cover design does wrap around the entire cover. No I did not get a picture before I glued the thing down. See again: I'm an idiot. And just... massively impatient.

Finally, we get to the stage of gluing. Behold, my bookpress.

Of course, topped with Madam MuffinLances own actual professional-people book, Fox's Tounge and Kirin's Bone. It is Excelent. Here is the LINK so you can go and support this amazing author with the real-monies as well as the internet-kudos.

Then, once everything is glued together, one must give the book its "gilt" edges.

[mostlyihyperfixate]

WrightWorth Fic Recs

Okay, so @moongasux told me to give some fic recommendations on last night's post, and I thought it would be easier for me to put together a list in a separate post. And then I can update as I go along.

Please note that these aren't all the fics I've read or even the only good ones, just my favorites so far--the ones I've gone back and reread multiple times since discovering them. I've got several explicit ones to recommed but I literally just started reading smut so I can't actually comment on how good the sex scenes are.

A Long Way to Fall by prospectkiss

Rating: Explicit; Content Warning for stalking and torture; set pre-AA4; finished

Words cannot express how much I love this fic. It was the second one I ever read, and it's still my all-time favorite. It sounds really dark, but the subject matter is treated with the reality and seriousness it deserves. The author also simultaneously knows where and when to stop with the angst so it never gets overbearing. I especially love that both Miles and Phoenix seem like 100% equal partners and adults. The character voices are *chef's kiss*. This is, hands down, the best Franziska I have come across. Be warned that there are explicit sex scenes!

A Night You'll Never Regret by MaudMoon

Rating: Explicit; Content Warning for drinking in excess; set post-AA6; finished

This is another excellent fic, a sort of pure-fluff alternative to A Long Way to Fall. It's just good times from start to finish. The character work here is also very good. The author deals with a pretty large cast masterfully. Larry is amazing in this. This is the story that introduced me to my NOTP, but I'm coming to realize that it's a fairly common ship in this fandom, and who am I to rain on a collective parade? This story is too good to ignore just because of that. Again, there are explicit sex scenes.

Turnabout: Bloodline by LeFlayART

Rating: Explicit; Canon Divergence post-AA6; Spirit Medium!Miles AU; finished (the first two of the three stories, anyway)

You have got to read this. I started reading the first story in this series yesterday, and I've hardly been able to put it down. I am crushed to see that the final story never got finished--but a look at the number of comments on the second part shows that the number of comments this received at the time was a travesty. This is a masterpiece. They say the mark of a good story is that you keep saying to yourself, "Just one more chapter. Just one more chapter," and I have been saying that since, like, 9:00 in the morning yesterday. There is explicit sex. There is a lot of explicit sex. Please go shower this fic with the praise it deserves.

pressed beneath the burden of proof by harmony

Rating: Mature; Content Warning for amnesia fic; one shot

I effing love an amnesia fic, okay? I know it's not for everyone, but it's one of my favorite fic tropes. (Seriously, if you know of any other Wrightworth or Klapollo amnesia fics please send them my way). This is a nice lengthy one that doesn't overstay its welcome by making you wonder where the heck the plot got to. There's no big, overarching legal mystery to solve, but watching Miles put things together is plot enough. The interactions between Miles and Phoenix are wonderful.

res ipsa loquitur (the thing itself speaks) by griffonage

Rating: Teen and Up; finished

This is a fun miscommunication fic that isn't going to leave you wanting to rage at the couple for not just communicating. It's fun miscommunication. Another great "It's about the pining" fic, but without all the angst that usually comes with all that pining--and it's only five chapters, so you can read it in a snap! The author wrote another similar story from Phoenix's point of view later, but of the two, this is my preferred one.

Guilty as Charged by JustNerdyThings

Rating: General Audiences; finished

Do you like seeing Apollo tortured in the fun sense? Then this is the fic for you! It's got some additional Klapollo which finally made me go, "Oh, yeah, this ship is cute," and while shipping (and fumbled matchmaking) is the plot of the story, the place it really shines is just watching Apollo deal with the rest of the cast as the only sane man. It's all cute enough to give you cavities.

Epoch by citsiurtlanu

Rating: Teen and Up; Content Warning for Soulmate AU; set through the series; in the process of being posted

I feel like an elephant is sitting on my chest when I open this up and read it--every single damn time. It hurts. I mean that in a good way. I don't typically read soulmate AUs because I always have more questions than what is addressed, but this one's sort of (at least thus far) a deconstruction of the concept. I am genuinely upset that I have to wait for weekly updates on this when I just want to unhinge my jaw and swallow it whole. Every week's update leaves me wanting more. Also, the author is terribly nice.

[honeybeebard]

Helping You Remember (Enver Gortash x DarkUrge!Tav)

Summary// Ever since the crash Tav had been stripped of her memories, with nothing but her name and this violent urge inside her body wreaking havoc with every step she took. It was no small feat to control it, or at least tame it, and just when she thought she had gotten it under control a new foe, or an old ally, comes to remind her where she came from.

(I didn’t expect my first fic in the BG3 fandom to be about Gortash. In fact, I have several half-written projects of other characters but for whatever reason this man has recently taken a hold of me and I’m afraid I’ve sunk too deep. This was originally going to be a one-shot but it’s taken on a life of its own and will now be a multi-chapter!

This first chapter is heavy on angst but the next chapter will be better, I promise! I just imagine this is how your companions would react to the news as well as how Gortash gets his foot in the door of reclaiming you. I hope you like it! I normally write for ACOTAR so this was so much fun!) WARNINGS: Heavy angst, Mentions of past Dark Urge actions

It had been a long, painful journey to get to Baldur’s Gate but Tav had made it. Her companions had made it. Everyone was alive and mostly well, save for the tadpole in their brains, the end of the world, and the recent discovery of Tav’s family history. As they made their way to Wrym’s Rock Fortress it was the only thing her mind could focus on. Astarion, Karlach, and Wyll were all too happy to chat about being back but she couldn’t stop thinking about what she was. 

Bhaalspawn.

Parents throughout Baldur’s Gate told stories of her kind to warn their children of the dangers of the world. She felt all the sins of her kin crawling up her back, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze in fear that they would see her for who she was. A monster. It didn’t matter how hard she fought the Urge inside her… her fate seemed to be already written in the stars. How could she save herself from this? She hadn’t even realized they had made it to the doors of the fortress until Astarion gently nudged her arm, giving her a concerned look as she was torn from her thoughts. “Are you alright, darling? You’re looking a bit clammy.” His voice was smooth but she could see the worry in his eyes. He was the first one she had told when she found out, seeking comfort in his arms just as he had done back in the Shadow-Cursed Lands. They didn’t have an official title to whatever their relationship was, sometimes friends and other times lovers, but they were each other’s closest confidants. He understood her better than herself sometimes and he had assured her that whatever she was facing, he would be there to help. So it pained her to lie through her teeth as she mumbled, “Fine. Let’s just get this over with. Hopefully, we can kill two birds with one stone.” Astarion knew she was lying but didn’t press her further, his shoulders tensing slightly as he gave a curt nod and entered the building with the others. The air was buzzing with excitement as everyone awaited the coronation of Lord Gortash. His posters were everywhere, most people hailing him as a hero, but from what she had heard from Karlach he was anything but that. And especially after discovering him at Moonrise, netherstone in the gauntlet decorating his hand, she only felt that anger within her rise more at the ignorance of the city. There was something else too, like a flash of nostalgia, but it flitted from her mind before she could grasp it. Tav shook her head as they made their way up the stairs, preparing for anything as they arrived at the grand hall.

Rows of seats lined the sides as a dark red carpet decorated the ground, leading all the way up to where Duke Ravengard and Gortash stood. Wyll visibly bristled at the sight of his father, his hand steady on the edge of his blade while Karlach slowly began to grow hotter and hotter at the sight of her former friend. 

“I can practically taste his blood from here.” Karlach seethed, her fists clenching. Astarion gave Tav a worrying look, wondering if now, underneath the watchful gaze of multiple Flaming Fists and the Steel Watch, was the right time to pick a fight.

Tav gave him a reassuring smile, turning to Karlach with a solemn expression. “I know you want nothing more than to rip his heart out but here might not be the best place to do it. Let’s hear him out first.” She speaks slowly, hoping to calm the tiefling. 

“Hear him out? He speaks nothing but lies! There is nothing he could say that could be of use to us.” Karlach snarls, turning her heated eyes to her and frowning. 

“Just trust me on this, okay?” Tav pleaded. “I promise that you will be the first one to rip him limb from limb.”

She seemed to calm slightly at Tav’s reassurance, her flames dulling as she nodded once. “I’ll hold you to that, soldier.” Karlach says, following in step as the four of them begin to walk up the aisle.

Gortash is the first to spot them, his lips turning up in a smile as he spies Karlach first. “My eyes must be deceiving me! Karlach, my dear girl, come and be welcome.” His voice was dripping with arrogance, his arms spread wide in greeting. 

“I’m not your dear anything!” Karlach snaps, her hand immediately falling to her weapon. However, just as Tav tries to step in front of them, his dark eyes turn to her and widen in surprise.

“And with you, my, why it’s my favorite bhaalspawn!” He grins as he comes closer to Tav, eyeing her up and down. “I never thought I would see you again either.”

“Wait, you know each other?” Karlach frowns, turning to look at Tav with betrayal in her eyes. 

“I swear I have no memory of him Karlach. I would’ve told you.” She stresses, holding up her hands in innocence while shaking her head rapidly. 

“Oh, I’d forgotten,” Gortash says smugly, chuckling to himself. “Your memories are quite lost aren’t they? Orin told me she’d made a fool of you. And to think you two have traveled together all this time and she hadn’t the faintest idea that you were one of my nearest and dearest.”

This time it was Astarion who spoke, his eyes hard as his jaw clenched. “What do you mean nearest and dearest?” There was a sense of urgency under his tone, something that Tav felt as well as she tried desperately to remember what Gortash already knew.

The dark-haired Lord smirked, taking a deep breath as he turned back to Tav and began to tell fill in the missing puzzle pieces of her memory. “You and I initiated this plot. No one could stand against the Dead Three so, after obtaining the crown, enslaving the brain, and creating a false God to rule the masses, there was little to stand in our way.”

Tav stumbled back a step, her head throbbing and pulse racing. No, she couldn’t have. She couldn’t have formed this plot, couldn’t have worked with Gortash. It wasn’t who she was. Was it? 

“No. I would never.” She whispered, her eyes full of anger while Gortash ignored her and carried on weaving the tale. 

“In Bhaal’s name, you set your bloody dagger to cause panic in the streets, killing in the Absolute’s name,” He smiled again as if recalling a fond memory. It made her want to vomit. “It was all going well until you had vanished, Orin claiming to be the new voice of Bhaal and taking over. She, unlike you, couldn’t control herself. She made a mess of things.”

Her stomach lurched, her knees buckling as bits and pieces of her past flashed through her mind. The blood, the screams, the wicked smile of her reflection as she all but bathed in the slain bodies of the innocent. Astarion noticed her trembling, reaching out to steady her as she tried to block out everything. 

“Have you gone soft?” Gortash asked as he stepped closer to Tav, examining her guilt filled gaze with a disappointed look. “I find that hard to believe. One’s true nature will always rise to the top.”

“That is not my true nature.” She hissed through gritted teeth, rage heating her blood as she pushed out of Astarion’s grasp and walked towards the man before her. “Take it back. Tell me you’re lying.”

“I know you know the truth, Tav.” He coos as if talking to a startled babe. “I can see it in your eyes. That Urge deep within you, clawing at its cage to be unleashed. We had something great, are something great, until you were taken. I tolerated Orin, tolerated Ketheric, but I liked you. We can still finish this together.”

As he finishes his sentence one of his hands comes up to rest on her arm, an intimate gesture that sends feelings of disgust and warmth through her body. She hated this, hated him, hated how little control she felt. Once again she felt a battle in her body between the past and the present. 

“Don’t touch me.” Tav growls, pulling away from him as if she had been burned. “I want nothing to do with you, with this plot. If anything this has only solidified my plans to kill you.”

She could feel Karlach’s approval from behind her, could feel her own body tensing for a fight only to falter when Gortash barked out a harsh laugh. 

“Oh, my dear bhaalspawn, you have no choice.” His eyes were suddenly hard and his tone like ice as he gestured around him. “The quakes are a clear warning. Without all three netherstones ruling the brain, it will break free and complete the Grand Design. Your choices are to join me and rule or subject this entire city, yourself and companions included, to becoming illithids.”

All of her companions shifted uneasily, looking at Tav for guidance. She tried to run through all the scenarios, looking for an out that didn’t include digging herself further into her past self, but the choices remained the same. 

“Together though,” Gortash straightens, giving her a charming smile. “Together we can control the brain. Renew our old partnership.”

“What kind of partnership?” Tav asked cautiously, hating how weak she sounded. Astarion cleared his throat beside her, pleading with her not to do this, but she ignored him. If she was going to find another way out of this she at least needed to get all angles of the problem…and that started with hearing Gortash’s bargain. 

“Let’s discuss it somewhere more private, hm? Away from the prying eyes of both nobles and…your group.” He looked behind her distastefully. “Meet me in my office after the ceremony. Alone.”

And before she can say another word he struts back to the middle of the room, letting the Duke continue with the blasphemous ceremony. Tav immediately motions for her friends to follow her towards the back, ignoring the words of Wyll’s father as she finally takes a moment to breathe.

“You can’t possibly be considering partnering with him.” Astarion huffs. “Please tell me you aren’t that stupid.”

“Look at what he’s done to this city, to my father,” Wyll adds, crossing his arms. “An alliance with Gortash is like asking to be stabbed in the back. He cannot be trusted.” “You’re damn right he can’t be trusted!” Karlach fumes, gnashing her teeth together. “That man is worse than a devil, Tav! He’s just trying to get in your head!”

“Enough!” Tav snapped, rubbing her temples as the pounding returned. Everyone’s opinions, including Gortash’s, were starting to make her head spin. “I know this is…a lot. I can’t process it all myself-”

“What, that you and Gortash created this entire cult, this entire problem that is threatening the lives of millions of people?” Karlach’s voice was rising with each word, her flames growing by the second. “I knew you were a bhaalspawn but Bhaal’s chosen? You are half the bloody reason we are here in the first place!”

“Karlach-” Wyll tries to intervene but she brushes him off, stalking towards Tav and jamming a red hot finger in her chest.

“No, don’t Karlach me.” She snarls, glaring down at her. “Did you not hear what she has done? The acts she committed in Bhaal’s name? Amnesia or not, you all have to see how dangerous she is.”

“I’m not!” Tav protested, tears pricking her eyes as she felt their gazes on her. It was her worst fear realized. “I’m not a monster, I don’t remember doing any of those things. I would never…”

“And yet here you are, ready to make nice with the viper.” Karlach spits, standing to her full height while regarding her with revulsion. “I need time to think.” 

Before Tav can say anything or reach out to plead for forgiveness, she storms off back to the entrance. Wyll looks between the two of them, his eyes full of sadness before he simply shakes his head and follows Karlach. The only one left is Astarion who is staring at her with an unreadable expression.

“Star…” She whispers, throat tight as she tries to reach for him only to physically recoil when he moves away from her hand. It wasn’t much, just a slight sway to the side, but it was enough to make the knife in her gut twist deeper. “Please.”

“I…I need a moment.” He murmurs, bowing his head before following the same path as her companions. Tav can’t stop herself from sinking to the floor, her soul aching as she brings her knees to her chest and cries. She doesn’t care that she’s in a room full of nobles, doesn’t care that everyone is watching her finally break, she just doesn’t care anymore.

Her friends, her entire world ever since escaping that damned nautiloid, had abandoned her. They had found out who she had been and had left her here, alone. Tav wanted to hate them, wanted to curse them, and never see them again, but could she blame them?

She was part of the reason this was all happening in the first place. She had caused all this pain, all this death, in the name of her father. Even if she didn’t remember it that didn’t absolve her of the guilt. If roles were reversed, she would probably question her relationship with the person as well.

“It’s all my fault.” She whispers, pressing her palms against her eyes harshly. The tears were hot as they ran down her cheeks, her shoulders shaking. Tav was so caught up in her emotions she didn’t hear the footsteps approaching her.

It wasn’t until she felt cold, metal claws tip her chin up that she finally came to her senses, blinking up at the man who had just revealed all her immoral acts as if they were nothing. 

“My poor little bhaalspawn,” He purred, using his other hand to pull her up to stand. “All alone again.”

Tav sniffled, feeling vulnerable as he wiped a tear away with his thumb. Her entire body felt numb as he pulled her into his arms, shushing her with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

“Come.” He ordered. “Let me save you once more.” 

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | wolfstar x reader

Series Masterlist | The Interlude | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 6.3 K Warnings: None Prompt: New Friends, new adventures to come and one Halloween Party to prepare. This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.

Chapter 16: Boogie Wonderland

The next day, you charmed your restricted section book cover, just like you had done with the spicy one, making it look like another casual spell book. You then spend most of your classes devouring its content, it was way more than the two pages you’d found on the 5th-year DADA book, although a good deal of them focused solely on how to defeat a werewolf. 

Tips on how to kill werewolves, spells against werewolves, weapons against werewolves, a particular line irked you so much –if you see a werewolf hex to kill, don’t bother incapacitating– that you were about to throw the book on the ground and cast incendio on it. But it wasn’t until about the second half of the book that it finally started to talk about its qualities. Especially with the section titled “How to spot werewolves in your daily life”. Of course, while most of the things in the book were about spotting and hurting them, you were more focused on learning which things you should never do. 

On a small piece of parchment, you started documenting everything that you had learned so far. You’d even use a codeword to refer to Remus, in case your note was misplaced or lost. 

My Knowledge on WW:

Silver burns them (throw away or alter the ring mom gave me once Puppy returns it).

Silver and Dittany could save someone after being lethally bitten by a werewolf, turning them into one regardless. 

Bites are contagious only if the werewolf bites someone in werewolf form, not outside of it (Luna could bite whoever he wants without turning them, as long as they’re in human form, maybe they’d get a bit of a raw meat affection for a couple of days, but nothing more). Why is this relevant to me?

Werewolves do not remember who they are once transformed. They can be very aggressive, and they have killed friends and loved ones in wolf form; they will remember what they did once they’re back in human form. If Luna turns into werewolf form and you’re around, turn the fuck away.

Any bite or scratch obtained from a werewolf, whether in human or animal form, would leave a permanent scar. (Luna probably has a bite mark somewhere. I wonder where?) 

Werewolves rarely have children. If a werewolf has a child with another werewolf while in wolf form, they’d have a normal wolf, except they’d be beautiful and nearly as smart as a human. 

Werewolves don’t really attack animals, they seem to target exclusively Humans. 

There’s little to no medicine developed to help treat werewolves. -> Racist wizards going at it again.

They can be a little aggressive, touchy or moody as the full moon approaches. 

They have a crazy good sense of smell (even in human form apparently; maybe I’ll get to ask Luna about it someday)

THEY AREN’T ALL EVIL. 

You read through your list a couple of times, wondering if you’d missed anything from the book. But you were certain you had narrowed down the most important clues the book had. There was a section of the book that had a couple of spells to defend yourself from werewolves, but they were all incredibly aggressive attack spells, most of them to severely damage or kill the werewolf, when you finished reading you ripped the page from the book, threw it on the floor and whispered “incendio,” contemplating how the fire slowly consumed the old piece of paper. You might have not been able to burn down the entire book, but that was pleasing enough. And you had to get rid of it before anyone read through it and tried to use it on Remus, or any other good werewolves. Because no matter how many times the book tried to frame Werewolves as being inhumane, and immoral beasts, incapable of feeling remorse, you knew it was all bullshit. 

Remus was kind, gentle, and incredibly caring, he’d been the first one to approach you when you were feeling off after divinations, he’d shared chocolate with you when you were injured, he’d held you when a quaffle had been thrown your way, and he’d even taken you to his quiet spot when he thought it might help you feel better. Remus had, even in the short time you’d met him, always been there for you, and you wanted to be at least half as good of a friend as he’d been. Remus was nothing like the harrowing picture the book painted of werewolves. And while you were sure actual evil werewolves existed, you’d heard of them in the news, with wolves like Fenrir Greyback and its followers, you also knew there were evil and good wizards. It wasn’t a matter of what you were, but a matter of who you were. You’d know, your mom had told you about the hard times her mother had had with her being half fairy, the Wizarding Community just wasn’t very accepting of diversity. 

As you walked back from the courtyard where you were reading, book back in your backpack and parchment gently tucked in the book you had in your hands, you accidentally bumped into someone, and whoever you bumped into had been walking with so much force, the books you were holding fell to the ground. The boy –a Ravenclaw you hadn’t met– leaned down and helped you pick your stuff. But the page on your book had slipped and fell a little further from your grasp, he walked towards it before you even had the chance to react, and he eyed it as you gulped. Thank Merlin you’d used codenames.

“You’re into werewolves too?” He asked. 

You frowned, thinking of a quick excuse, say it was an assignment, say it’s homework, a part of you said. On 6th year? about werewolves? who would ever believe it?, responded the other. But there was something about the question that caught your attention then, “What did you say, sorry?” 

The boy turned to you, “Oh- um… I asked if you were also into werewolves…” he said, as he handed the parchment over to you. There it was: also into them. 

“Uh… yeah, I’ve been doing some research.” 

He nodded, and motioned to the paper, still in your hands “Who’s Luna?” 

You were caught off guard again “It’s a… character, from a story.” You said, making it up on the spot “I’m writing it, the story… I’m writing the story.” How on earth did I become such a shitty liar?

“Oh, that’s amazing! I’m actually really interested in them as well.” 

“You are?” 

He nodded “Yeah, I’ve been working with Professor Slughorn to develop a potion.” 

“To make them human again?” You asked with a frown. 

He shook his head “It’s… That’s impossible… But Slughorn and I think It’s possible to create one that will allow them to remember who they are while in wolf form, to reduce the risk of attacking humans.” 

“What really? That’s brilliant! I’d love to help you!” You said, almost a little too excitedly, so you cleared your throat  “I mean, it would be a really good way of getting knowledge for my story…” 

“Really?” He asked, with a smile “You’re (Y/N), right? New transfer student? Gryffindor’s new keeper?” 

You nodded “I’m afraid I don’t know your name…” 

He extended his hand, and you shook it “Damocles Belby, most people just call me Kless, I’m from 7th…” he seemed to think about the next thing before deciding to ask “Are you really as brave as they say?” 

“They say I’m brave?!” You asked, in disbelief. 

He nodded “You stood up against some nasty Slytherins in class, and they say you fly like a daredevil, or so I’ve heard…” 

“Well, I –gossip sure travels fast here– Why?” 

“I’m more of a books and potions kind of person, you see…” he started, moving one of his arms up to the back of his head, to scratch it, it looked like Kless wasn’t too eager to ask for this particular favour  “…but I really want to test out the effect of Moonflower on the potion, see if it helps. The issue is, and you might not know this but Moonflower–“ 

“–only blooms in full moon.” You finished. 

He exhaled, “Yeah, and I’ve been told that there is a chance to find them in the forbidden forest.” 

“You want me to get it for you, don’t you?” 

He nodded, “Only if it wasn’t too much trouble. And if you helped with it, I could finish the first draft of the potion in a couple of weeks and we could probably test it together, and if the position works, I could get a brilliant recommendation letter from Slughorn to study at Cauldronwell, the School of Advanced Potionry. Maybe we could even get one for you.” 

You took a deep breath, considering the situation, the forbidden forest must be forbidden for a reason, and the boys had warned you about it too. Eventually, you spoke again “If I do this, will you let me have some of the potion?” 

He looked at you, as if thinking about it, probably wondering if he should ask why you’d need the potion, but in the end, he only nodded “Deal.” 

You smiled at that, pleased with the answer he’d given you, “Pleasure to meet you Kless, I’ll see you around.” You said before waving at him and resuming your way to the common room since you’d be helping Remus and Sirius finish up the decorations for the party. But just before turning on the corner you turned your head towards him again “I’ll find you when I get it.” 

He nodded, “I’ll send you a copy of my research through owl mail.” He responded. 

Sirius and Remus were already in the common room when you arrived, you smiled and took the book with the parchment, grabbing the piece of paper and hiding it deep within one of the pockets of your backpack. While you were busy, still packing stuff inside your bag, you felt Sirius’s arms wrap around you as he hugged you from behind. He placed a quick kiss on your cheek before pulling away again, grabbing a piece of candy from the bowl next to your bag on the table and popping it into his mouth. “What were you up to?” He asked, noting you were late. 

“Sorry, got really caught up in this book.” You told him with an apologetic smile as if Sirius could actually be angry at you. You then looked around, the boys had already gotten a head start. James, who was supposed to help, was still locked up in his room, adding some final details to his Hamlet costume while Peter was in the kitchens, making sure the treats were ready for the party. 

“Marlene’s gone to get a fog potion,” Remus said, as he grabbed onto a piece of cloth neatly folded on the table, “Beth and Tom went to Hogsmeade to buy some last-minute treats.” 

You paid close attention as he started to unfold the cloth “Is that the banner Lily made?” You asked, walking closer to him, Sirius was looking at you with a smile as you moved towards his friend. 

Remus nodded and said a quick “Yeah.” Handing a corner of the cloth over, so you could help him, the two of you extended the banner together, finally opening it up. The Banner was long and, it was black with orange letters over it, and it had two Jack-o-lanterns on each side that screamed “Happy Halloween” when you looked directly at them. 

“It’s brilliant!” You said with a smile, as you helped Remus levitate it closer to the ceiling near the entrance. Sirius was busy placing the jack-o-lanterns you had carved during the week all over the common room. Once the banner was hung, you walked towards the table and pulled out a bag you’d left there a couple of classes ago. 

“What’s that?” Sirius asked, walking closer to you again, shoulders brushing against yours. You smirked, and took a skull from the inside, throwing it towards Sirius, he easily caught it and looked at it, before turning back to you. 

“You thought it would scar–“ he started, but then, out of nowhere, the skull started laughing maniacally, Sirius jumped and let it fall on the floor.

The skull said “Auch,” while you and Remus started laughing. 

“Did you see his face?” You asked him. 

“Absolutely priceless, wish I’d gotten a picture of it!” Agreed Remus. 

Sirius just looked at you both with a pout as he picked the skull back from the floor and gently placed it on the table. The skull started to laugh again and Remus silenced it with his wand “You planned this, didn’t you?” 

Remus shook his head, and you answered “We just took advantage of the opportunity to test them. Rem and I’ve been working on them for a while.” 

“Them?” He looked at the bag wearily “How many did you make?” 

“About a dozen,” Remus answered casually. You opened the bag again, and you carefully took the skulls out. You then handed them to the boys, who started to place them all over the common room, one near the sofa, one close to the fireplace, some over at the stairs, and in general, just spread out in rather inconvenient places, the kind of places that would have people jumping from their skin when they started screaming at them. Sirius decided it would be a good idea to have one floating over the fruit punch, and he placed it in the bowl before adding the fruit juice. You saw him take a bottle of rum out too, and pour about a quarter of it onto the drink.

You shook your head, a little smile playing on your lips as he did “Why not add a bit more?” you teased. 

“Sirius!” Remus admonished him. “What did we say about adding alcohol to the main beverage? Last year it was chaos!” 

“It was only a little bit,” he retorted, and then turned to you “Barely a trickle, right Statshine?” 

You nodded “Not even a quarter of a bottle.” Remus shook his head, looking at both of you disapprovingly. “Come on Rem,” you said persuasively “let’s leave it like that, you don’t want to throw out such a good punch do you.” 

“She’s right, Moons, come on,” Sirius said, now he was standing next to you, both looking at the taller boy with puppy eyes. 

Remus looked at the two, both so pretty trying to convince him to do something, he almost couldn’t think of anything else. In fact, he wasn’t sure there was anything in the world you’d ask of him that he would deny, not with that expression on your faces. He took a deep breath, trying not to focus on the fact that he had somehow developed a crush not only on his best friend (which he had been pretty aware of already) but on his girlfriend as well, “Just so you know, I still don’t think it’s a good idea.” 

Both you and Sirius smiled broadly, looking at each other and throwing a high-five between yourselves. “You’re the best Rem!” You told with a dashing smile and then you walked back, pulling the bag up. 

“There’s more?” Sirius asked Remus, he shrugged in response, he didn’t know. 

Slowly, you pulled out a whole skeleton from it. “What the hell?!?” Asked Remus surprised, “You didn’t tell me you also had one of those…” 

“I didn’t have it, I found it.” You told him “It was in one of the old classrooms on the 3rd floor.” 

“Is it… real?” Remus asked cautiously. 

“Didn’t ask him,” you responded with a shrug while looking at the skeleton. Remus raised his eyebrows, amused at your answer. 

And a diverted smile appeared on Sirius' lips before he asked. “Did you charm it as well?”

You ginned “‘Course I did! Who do you take me for? I’ve got a whole plan for it.” 

“And where are you going to place it?” Remus asked, from next to you now as he curiously looked at the skeleton. 

You turned your body a little, shifting the weight of the skeleton onto one of your arms, and pointed at a wardrobe in the far side of the room. 

“In the closet?” The taller boy asked in disbelief “You’re going to put the skeleton in the closet?” 

“It’s a joke in and of itself,” you said with a smile “every now and then the skeleton will drop smoke or random sounds, that way guests are inclined to investigate. And then boom, the skeleton in the closet will jump out and scare the shit out of them.” 

“That’s wicked…” Said Sirius, a smirk playing on his lips “See Moony? I told you she was like us!”

“I was certain when you told me about the day of the library,” Remus said simply. 

You looked at Sirius, eyes wide in shock “You told Remus about the library?” 

“Of course I did, your Howler was genius!” Sirius responded matter-of-factly.

“Certainly,” Remus agreed. 

Right, the Howler, he told them about the Howler, not about the snoging. “It was just, a spur-of-the-moment idea?” You said, tugging in a hair behind your ear shyly as you walked towards the wardrobe with the skeleton –Steve– as you’d named him. You knew how seriously the boys took their jokes and escapades, if Sirius and Remus were complimenting you on something, they weren’t just sweet-talking you. You slowly but surely accommodated Steve inside the wardrobe and closed the doors. 

“What are we missing?” Asked Remus as he looked around the common room, trying to get a look at the big picture. 

“Marlene’s still coming with her smoke potions, right? Spooky music? Maybe…”

“Got that taken care of,” Sirius said, and waved his wand, on the corner, a small violin, a flute and what looked like a piano started playing music. 

You were surprised “where did you get those?”  

“Stole them from the music room last year,” Sirius explained “It was a dare to prove to James that Remus was way stealthier than him, even if he’s taller.” 

You nodded, a little impressed, you then heard the portrait open, Beth and Tom walked inside with bags filled with candy; from slug worms to dancing skeletons, all the Halloween theme candies from Honeydukes were there. Tom walked all the way to the table with the punch and emptied his backpack there. Beth, on the other hand, started to neatly arrange the candies she’d gotten into different vases and floating trays, she ended up also taking the stuff Tom had dumped and finished decorating the sweet’s table, as she’d prompted everyone to call it that from then on.

“You guys did a brilliant job,” Tom said as he looked around in awe, there were spider webs coming from the ceiling, shiny black and orange streamers swirling in the air, black flamed candles levitating all over the ceiling, cauldrons filled with candies. The skulls you and Remus had charmed together still lurking on certain spots, a table filled with potions, “for potion pong,”  as Beth had told you, and overall, an eerie but fun atmosphere. You had even told Moaning Myrtle and Richard Jackdaw to come over as special guests, even if you warned them not to tell any other ghosts about the party, especially Peeves, who would definitely attempt to make some kind of prank, or tell the teachers about your shenanigans. Suddenly he tilted his head. “Do hear that?” He asked. 

Beth frowned “Hear what?” 

“It’s uh… coming from…” Tom started walking towards the wardrobe. You threw a look at the boys, Sirius held your stare with his icy grey eyes, the hint of a smirk drawing on his lips. When you turned to Remus, he was also looking at you attentively, eyebrows raised, clearly looking amused. 

As you exchanged glances with the boys Tom approached the wardrobe “None of you hear it?” 

You shook your head, it wasn’t a lie, the spell only worked for one person at a time, so really, not even Beth would hear the same thing Tom did. Tom was now right in front of the closet, and he hesitantly placed his hands on the handle, like he was considering whether he should open it or leave it alone. But Tom was curious, almost too curious for his own good and in a fast pull, he opened the door. 

The skull jumped out and clang onto Tom, eyes glowing a shade of green and screaming so loud even you winced, perhaps I overdid it, you thought. Tom screeched, jumped back and ended up on the floor, fighting to get the skeleton to unwrap its bony arms off his shoulders. When he finally did it, he threw it to the side and crawled away from it while looking at it with dread. He stayed there, panting as Steve finally shut its bony jaw, the screams and shrieks slowly dying out.

Everyone started to laugh, including Beth, who had been just a little scared at the beginning. Still with his eyes open wide, Tom turned back, a slight frown on his face as he turned to Sirius “What the fuck mate?! That was bIoody horrifying, what did I ever do to you?”

Sirius raised his hands and shrugged, “That wasn’t my prank.” 

Tom’s frown deepened and he turned to Remus “It was you?” He asked again, still trying to gain his breath. Remus shook his head as a reply, there was no way it’d been James or Peter, Tom knew they’d be pretty busy today so he slowly turned his head to you, almost unsure “(Y/N)?” 

You took a deep breath, raising your shoulders, lips tightened in a line before, letting a bit of a smile appear. Guilty, you looked guilty. “I see you’ve met Steve.” 

“You gave that horrid thing a name?” You shrugged, nodding your head as an answer. He sighed “Why me?” 

“Oh, that’s on Steve, he chooses the person he calls, not me.” 

“You put a randomizer spell on it?” Remus asked then, surprised. You nodded “How? I’ve been trying to master those for a while…” he said, walking closer to the skeleton. 

“I found it on The Refined Art of Mild Hexes, it’s somewhere on the first couple of pages,” you told him, and then started waking towards Tom and helped him up “Sorry bout that,” you said, giving the curly haired boy a light pat on the back, he just stared at you, squinting his eyes in distrust, he then scoffed, shaking his head as he looked at the skeleton on the ground. 

“Looks bIoody realistic,” he said, the edges of his lips finally curling into a little smile. 

“Yeah, Remus thought the same, and asked me if it was real.”

He turned back to you, a slightly concerned expression on his face “Well… Is it?” 

“She’d got no clue,” Sirius answered for you. 

You nodded in agreement “Found it lying around in an abandoned classroom.” 

 “And you just took it? What it if was a ghost’s or something?” 

You shook your head “I asked Richie Jackdow, and he said it didn’t belong to any of the ghosts in the castle.” 

“You really have gotten accustomed to Hogwarts, haven’t you?” 

You smiled “I guess you could say I have.”

The portrait opened itself again, and Mary and Marlene came inside. Marlene carrying a tray with potions and Mary with some more treats, this time saltier stuff from the kitchen. “I brought the fruit for the punch,” she said as she walked towards the sweet’s table. 

“Great, you guys prepare that, Sly sprite,” he said turning to you “You’re helping me with this,” he said pointing to his canines, he’d asked you to turn them into fangs earlier that week, when the party was being planned, you’d both found a spell that would be useful, and had decided it’d be the one you’d use. 

“I think I left the book in my backpack,” you said as the two of you walked towards a further away table. 

“Sly sprite,” Sirius scoffed, he was standing next to Remus. 

The taller boy raises his eyebrow “You jealous?” he teased. 

“Of Tom?! No way!” 

“Why not?” Remus asked and turned to you and Tom at the table where you’d left your backpack, you had one hand on the book and the other on your wand, Tom was staring at you attentively “Tom’s handsome, maybe just as handsome as you.” 

Sirius frowned, “You’re not helping,” he added flatly. 

Remus knew very damn well you had no interest in Tom, but he was enjoying himself while looking at a jealous Sirius, thinking back of all the times he’d been jealous himself. “I’m just saying… he’s charming, comes from a wealthy family, and his curls are really nice.” 

“Remus!” Sirius whined, turning his back to look at the hazel-eyed boy instead of at you since you already had both of your hands on Tom’s face as you pulled it back to check on his canines.

“Do you know what this is for?” Asked Mary, taking a potion bottle with a golden cap. Remus shrugged.

“Must be the sugar syrup for the punch,” Beth said “I asked Peter to bring it over in the morning.” 

Mary looked at it, swirled the liquid around inside the bottle, and uncapped it. She gave it a whiff and shrugged, it certainly smelled sweet enough. She didn’t think it twice, and dumped the entirety of the contents inside the punch, then grabbed the bottle and placed it on the potions table, since it fit the aesthetic. 

Meanwhile, you and Tom were still working on his fangs, “Stop moving for fucks sake,” you complained, as Tom looked at himself in the hand mirror he took from your bag. 

“But make them longer, yeah luv?” He answered, his voice already had a little lisp from the fangs. 

“They’ve got a great length Tom, you won’t be able to eat!” 

“Food doesn’t matter, aesthetics do!” 

You sighed, “Don’t dare come whine with me if you cannot eat.” 

“I swear I won’t Sly Sprite,” he said while placing his right hand over his heart. It made you wonder: If both Sirius and Tom entered a drama contest, would they tie? Eventually, you nodded and performed the spell again, grabbing the mirror and placing it in front of Tom’s face. He smiled, checking himself out as he slid his tongue under the fangs and winched at how sharp they were. You gave him an “I told you so” look, but he just shook his head. “Aesthetics (Y/N), aesthetics!”  

You just rolled your eyes and started to stand up but he stopped you by grabbing your arm “Hold up! Man liner!”

“Man liner?” You asked with a frown. 

“Yes! Eyeliner for men, like rock stars! Would you mind doing it for me?” He then looked through the pockets and pulled out an eyeliner pencil. 

You shrugged and nodded, taking the pencil from his hand, and leaning closer to Tom’s face, “Don’t move, all right?” He nodded and you started to line his water line. Softly gliding the pencil. When you were about to finish the first eye you felt someone looming behind you. When you turned you realised it was just Sirius, and you gave him a quick smile before going to line Tom’s second eye. 

Sirius was attentively looking at you as you lined Tom’s eye, both curious at the way you did it and also pretty jealous of how close you were to the other boy. Which prompted him to walk even closer. Once you were done you smiled and pulled away from Tom “There you go Mr. Vampire.” 

“Brilliant!” He said, placing both hands on your shoulder “Thank you Sly Sprite!” 

Sirius cleared his throat from behind “Mind if I borrow my girlfriend away for a minute.” 

Tom, being as oblivious and carefree as he was, nodded with a smile “I’m actually going to go change.” 

Once Tom was gone, you turned to Sirius with a quizzical expression “What was that about?” 

Sirius, who had spoken without thinking, was taken aback by your question “I… uh— Can you line my eyes too?” He improvised.

You frowned, “What are you dressing as?” 

He was about to open his mouth, but shut it before he could speak. “What are you going to dress up as?” 

“Oh… that’s right. You haven’t guessed. You get 3 more tries,” you told him playfully, as you placed your hand on his shoulder, guiding him to sit on the same chair Tom had been in.

He sat there and looked up at you, your breath got stuck in your throat, how was it possible for a boy to be this pretty? You leaned in closer, a lot closer than you had been to Tom, which made Sirius feel a lot better already. “Look up at me, All right?” You told him softly. He did, and you swore you felt your legs wobble, but you took a deep breath and while holding his chin with one hand, you gently placed your other hand on his cheek, to stabilise it while you lined his eyes. You were a lot more careful than you’d been with Tom. Softer, taking a lot longer to drag the eye pencil under his lower lashes. You honestly enjoyed being close to Sirius, more than you’d ever dare to admit to his face, especially since it’d go straight to his head, feeding his already pretty big ego.

“Are you gonna be a mermaid?” 

“No, I’m not.” You replied and continued with your task. 

“What about a princess? You certainly fit the look.” 

“Puppy stop moving!” You reprimanded, as a blush threatened to spread on your cheeks, “And no, I’m not going to be a princess, that’s two tries out of three.” He huffed, he really wanted to win the bet “What about you? Are you gonna be a rockstar?” 

“Nope.” He responded, “3 tries for you too.” 

You leaned in a little closer, narrowing your eyes as you tried to be as accurate as possible, “Will you come as a prince? It’s also something that would suit you.” 

He shook his head “I’m letting James take the spotlight with the mediaeval clothes… You think I look like a prince?” He asked, a little smirk playing on his lips. 

You rolled your eyes, “Everyone thinks you look like a prince, Sirius.” 

“Nah, I’m pretty sure you just said you think I look like a prince.” 

You playfully hit his shoulder before going to the other eye. Almost losing yourself in the frosty blue of them before focusing on your task again. Sirius was still looking at you attentively as you continued to paint his waterline. “Aren’t you gonna try and guess again?” 

“I’ve only got one try left.” 

“And you’re not planning to use it?” 

“I am… just– I want to… think it thoroughly.” 

“You know, you could just tell me whatever your wish is.” 

“It wouldn’t be the same thing,” he retorted. “You should also do Remus’ man liner since he’s going to be a pirate.” 

“I’m not sure he’d like it…” you said, a little insecure about it. 

“I think he would, we should tell him,” he said, very sure of himself. “Hey, Remus!” 

“Mmmm?” the mentioned boy asked from the sofa, where he was arranging some more cauldrons filled with treats. 

“Come over! Will ya?” 

Remus turned to the boy, gave him a look like he did not want to move, but stood up and walked up to the two of you. 

“You’re up next,” Sirius informed him.

“For what?” 

“(Y/N) is doing your manliner.” 

“If you want to…” you added. Finally separating from Sirius since you had finished, smiling at how handsome your boyfriend looked. 

“It’s for your costume.” Sirius said, “It won’t be finished without it.” He then stood up and placed Remus right on the chair in front of yours.

Remus just took a deep breath as he stared at his friend, before turning to look at you, expectantly. 

“You sure you’re ok with it?” You asked, with a little frown. There it was again, the concern and care you always seemed to show Remus, the same concern and care that had his heart fluttering from how close you were standing to him. From how close both Sirius and you were to him, in fact. 

He cleared his throat and nodded, and you leaned closer to him, grabbing his face just as carefully as you had grabbed Sirius’. His skin was a lot softer than you’d imagined, you unintentionally brushed your fingers over one of his scars, but Remus didn’t flinch, which surprised him, since he usually detested when people did it. In fact, he remembered a particular time when he was making out with a boy and he snapped at him for touching his face. 

“Look up at me Rem,” you told him softly, he complied, looking at you through his lashes, Sirius was right next to you, Remus could see his satisfied expression from the corner of his eyes. You finally leaned in, and started to glide the pencil over his lower lashes. You somehow ended up focusing on his eyes, how they had these little specks of amber tones in them, they were bigger, and somewhat softer than Sirius’, very doe-like, in fact. “Tell me if it hurts,” you added later. Remus was nothing like Sirius, the latter would make a fuzz if you pricked him on the eye accidentally. Remus, on the other hand, he’d probably endure it without even wincing. He nodded, and you had to quickly pull the eye pencil away from his face. “But don’t move!” you admonished, grabbing his face a little more sternly now. 

“M’sorry,” he mumbled. 

“What do you think (Y/N)’s costume’s gonna be?” Sirius, who was still very close to the two of you, attentively watching the way you lined Remus’ waterline, asked. He seemed pretty content, falling to notice you were standing so much closer to Remus than you had been to Tom.

“You haven’t guessed yet?” Remus asked, a diverted smile playing on his lips “That’s unfortunate for you.” 

“MOONY!” He whined, “I asked you to help me choose, not to make fun of me.” Remus shrugged. “She said she’s not gonna be a princess, or a mermaid, also not an alien, or an astronaut, from what I asked yesterday. Mmmm.. and she also said she wasn’t dressing as a superhero, though I’m sure she’d look great as Wonder Woman.” 

“Who would’ve thought Sirius would be into costumes…” you teased. Remus instantly chuckled, but it took a little longer for Sirius to understand the joke. 

“Hey! I’m not– I– I just want my prize!” 

“Well then guess by yourself, If Remus guesses for you, he gets your prize.” 

Sirius gasped “You wouldn’t.” 

“I so would,” you teased again. Then pulled back from Remus “There we go,” you smiled at your work, slowly letting your fingers glide over his skin as you pulled them away from his face, Remus really did work that man liner out.

“Damn, mate!” Sirius said as Remus stood, looking up at him “You look absolutely dashing, and you don’t even have the rest of your costume on.” 

“He’s right,” you nodded “Remus’ getting bitches tonight.” 

Remus gave you a reproachful look, but nodded, “I think everything’s pretty much handled already.” 

You saw Tom walk down from the stairs in a puffy shirt and a dark green vest. He’d brushed his curls back, only one gently falling on his forehead, he was definitely working that vampire costume. 

You approached him quickly “Tom! It’s brilliant you’re ready. Deal with everything while we go change, yeah?” 

He nodded, and then smiled mischievously. “I’ll go find the potion, I probably left it somewhere when I dropped all the candies on Beth’s Sweets Table.” 

You raised your eyebrows “Just don’t down it all in one go. Save some for the rest of us.” He winked as an answer. “Tom’s taking care of this, we can go change,” You said, turning to Remus and Sirius, who were just a couple steps behind you. 

Sirius approached Tom first, and handed the eyeliner over “Your eyeliner.” He said icily. 

“Thanks for borrowing it,” Remus added politely afterwards, feeling like he wanted to punch Sirius for being such an idiot to Tom. You clearly weren’t interested in the boy, in fact, anyone would tell him how head over heels you were for him, but he had such a thick head he dared to be jealous. Maybe it was from how much hair he had.

Tom, being Tom, just smiled, almost mischievously. “No problem, you both look smashing, by the way…” He then eyed the taller boy up and down “Remus,” he said with a nod, before walking away to the centre of the room.

You frowned slightly at the exchange, remembering Tom’s words: “You’d be surprised, most of them hide it quite well though, you wouldn’t expect it.” Would it be possible that Remus was also-

You felt a hand press to the small of your back, “let’s go, love,” Sirius said, as he pushed you up the stairs.

“Uh.. yeah sure,” you said, allowing Sirius to guide you, turning your head back towards the front. 

 “Are you gonna be a lady knight?” He asked as you walked up the spiral staircase, Remus trailing behind just a little.

You shook your head “But that would’ve been a brilliant idea!” 

“Well, you’d certainly look great in silver armour,” He replied with a little smirk. You playfully shoved him off as you rolled your eyes. 

“Will you be… a prisoner from Azkaban?” 

“I would look great in those white and blue stripes, wouldn’t I?” He teased confidently “But no… I’m not gonna be that!” 

You sighed “We both lose then. What was your wish?” 

“I’ll tell you later,” he said with a wink. Eventually, you parted ways, waving a hand as the boys walked toward their rooms while you walked to yours.  

Series Masterlist | The Interlude | Next Chapter

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Katekyo Hitman Reborn!: Namimori Location

(Documenting my research process so I won't forget and get confused why I did something in a fic during a later read through. Nothing serious really.)

Where exactly is Namimori in canon?

As I was writing a khr fic, I realized I needed the exact location of Namimori for one sentence. A sentence that wasn't even important in the long run. Rather than abandon that single sentence I decided to try and locate where the town of Namimori would be in Japan. Because apparently I like pain.

There is virtually no information on the actual location of Namimori anywhere. So I had went on a research binge. And I found something that gave me a starting point.

In 2009, there was a special KHR episode that was aired during the Jump Super Anime Tour titled, Vongola Style School Trip, Arrives!

Saying that I found it is not that accurate. Its more that I went looking for an episode like this specifically. This isn't the first time I tried to locate fictional locations on a map for the sake of the plot. And I've realized that episodes centered around trips provide amazing clues, especially where the trip starts, where it ends, the scenery outside etc.

Thats what I hoped for here as well. And the hunch paid off! Between timestamps 3:07-3:10, there's a map. Not very detailed mind you. Just enough to show the direction where they came from. But that's better than nothing.

So they're going to Nagoya city, which is in the Aichi Prefecture. Its in the Chūbu region. It also looks like they're coming from the Kanto region, possibly from the direction of Tokyo.

So that means we can leave out the Kansai, Chugoku, Shikoku, and Kyushu regions in the south. There's no way Namimori is in Hokkaido, or Okinawa, so those two prefectures are out as well. The most likely locations for the town to be in is in the Kanto, and Chubu regions.

Comparing the physical map of Japan with the short glimpse we get, I'm reasonably sure they passed by Mt. Fuji as well.

See that little protrusion under Fuji-san? I'm pretty sure thats what we see in the map shown in the episode. So yeah they passed Mount Fuji.

Another thing, see that arch like thing before the protrusion? Thats Kanagawa prefecture, and we can see in the very beginning of the video, around the 0.03-0.04 timestamps, that they don't start anywhere there.

See? They pass by it completely and started somewhere well before Kanagawa. So Kanagawa is out.

Lets go back to Fuji-san again.

The mountain lies between the Yamanashi and Shizuoka prefecture borders.

That gives us three possible routes:

Chiba-> Tokyo-> Yamanashi-> Shizuoka-> Aichi [Nagoya City}

Tokyo-> Yamanashi-> Shizuoka-> Aichi [Nagoya City}

Yamanashi -> Shizuoka -> Aichi [Nagoya City]

Why did I decide on Tokyo as the starting point in Kanto despite there being other prefectures in the region?

In KHR's seventh volume, Hot Summer Arrives!, we get chapter 57, Swimming at the Sea. Its a beach chapter.

The beach is described as being close by and the fact that Ryohei's boxing club senpai, Kuroda Eiji and his buddies Kisanuki Yukio and Ookura Takuya, apparently work there as lifeguards, supports this. (You know...cos they're in middle school and all and jobs at that age tend to be close by...for civilians at least.)

Which means that prefectures like Saitama, Tochigi, and Gunma, which are all landlocked as you can see on the map below, are automatically disqualified as locations for Namimori.

By that same logic, Yamanashi is also disqualified.

Ibaraki is not counted because despite the abrupt beginning and ending of the map scene in the episode, we can guess that the starting point of the trip wasn't quite that far back. By the curve of the arrow I mean. {Yeah I know this is a reach but I'm pretty sure I'm right.}

That just leaves Tokyo and Chiba.

The argument in favour of Chiba is a meta one. Tokyo is an iconic location when it comes to manga and anime. Most anime set in Tokyo shows several shenanigans centered around Tokyo's various landmarks. Even works not set in Tokyo sometimes have Tokyo episodes and Tokyo adventures. Like Haikyuu for example.

Considering how much shenaniganry and crackishness KHR has, it would be very strange if it was set in Tokyo and yet didn't have any Tokyo misadventures in it. Reborn would just go ahead and name Tokyo Tower Vongola Tower or something just like he named Nagoya Castle Vongola Castle. So Namimori might not be in Tokyo, but in Chiba instead...which is still part of the Greater Tokyo Area now that I think about it, so still Tokyo in a way?

I couldn't find a way to clearly articulate an argument in favour of Tokyo when a friend send me this link.

I was walking on a path well-tread! @ladydraculena had already slashed through the figurative jungles for me!

I went looking for the two locations marked in the map in their post but it seems like Namimori Steamed Buns has since closed down. Hibari Nursery School on the other hand is going strong.

With this information the argument in favour of Tokyo grew much stronger.

Thus canonically the town of Namimori is most likely located in Tokyo and if not in Tokyo proper, definitely in the Greater Tokyo Area.

(Please note that I left the Tohoku region out of this. The region is very distinct and neither anime nor the manga has shown a singular sign of being set in Tohoku. By that I mean that if a work is set in Tohoku, it would be impossible to hide its Tohoku, or mistake it as somewhere else.)

Edit: @rooigseix pointed out that since most of KHR's usual shenanigans strictly happens in Namimori, the usual Tokyo adventure trope meta might not be applicable in this case. Namimori might be far away from Tokyo centre like the Ota or Edogawa districts, which are close to the sea as well.

Edit: @lightning-will-bovino pointed out Kokuyo land and there is in fact a theme park called Noah Forest Amusement Park or Mori-no-Yeunchi near the Hibari Nursery School!

It seems very likely that Amano-sensei was inspired by the area. It might not be where Namimori is actually located but the existence of these establishments in close quarters lends further credence to the theory of Namimori being in the Tokyo area.

In conlusion, the most likely location of Namimori would be in Tokyo prefecture but close to the Chiba border. Not landlocked as well.

Thus, Edogawa ward is the most suitable location.

And after all of that, I decided that Tokyo wasn't a good fit for my fic's Namimori and by my magical writer powers shifted it to Mie Prefecture instead. ╥﹏╥

[uglypastels]

Not Wholly Evil |VIII| pirate!Eddie au

a/n - this was a struggle for me, so I have no idea how I managed to get this done so quickly. most likely due to all the fucking amazing support yall have given me, especially over the previous chapter. holy shit i could not ask for anything better <3 thank you

Series Masterlist

word count: 8.2k

"semi dark fic" - READ the warnings:. (gun/sword)violence. blood. mention of severe wounds. minor character death. allusions to suicide. kidnapping. imprisonment. alcohol. open and deep sea. near death experiences in water. pirates are pigs: mentions of non-con, but it does not actually occur. malnourishment and weight loss. paranoia. mention of poisoning. abuse. manhandling. lying. mentions of sex work.

Chapter 8: Earthshine

“It took a special kind of madness to try to be a pirate and a good man at the same time.”

― Matt Myklusch, The Lost Prince

The ghost of her hand lingered with a sting over his cheek. The impact awakened him from a dream, but the kiss dragged him back. He was simply hanging there as if from a rope, ready to fall but anytime his body was prepared to hit the ground, a force pulled at him even harder and up and down his soul went. They both tasted of salt water and rum, yet she tasted sweeter, but perhaps “intoxicating” was a better word for it. His head was spinning at the sensation of her touch. He was stuck in a whirlwind, and her lips kept him anchored to the ground. 

Eddie let his hands fall to her hips, closing the cap between them. Her hand, which had marked his face moments before, now rested gently against his chest, nails digging into the material of his shirt. 

How long had he felt the need for this; for her? It was impossible to tell how deep within himself it had come from and how hard he had fought to erase it before, but there was no need to hide it now. The window was only so small, and who knows what would happen once closed. So, Eddie ensured everything he meant with that kiss reached her. No two human beings had ever been closer, tied together by something between them.

It was a heat, a hunger, growing larger by the second. A beast ready to devour everything in its path if not tamed. They might have stopped it if they had been aware of it. Perhaps not. Perhaps it was what they wanted all along.

His hands, steady on her, began to migrate over her hips, down her thighs, on her back. Her hand, meanwhile, trembled as it returned to its place on his cheek. The gentleness of her touch sent sparks through him, a feeling he had not encountered in a very long time and had never imagined to feel again. A kiss so simple and yet…

It was angry, wild, passionate, bold and forceful.

It was him and her. 

It was them. 

It could not have lasted longer than a few seconds, but it could have been a lifetime. He didn’t want it to end, ignoring that it eventually had to. Eddie would happily ignore the scream in his lungs to stay like this, but for once, he decided not to act selfishly. 

They still had eachother in their holds when he took the first breath. There was an interval when he opened his eyes, waiting for her to do the same. He saw how she breathed in his presence and let it sink into her. Then, when she finally opened her eyes, they were the brightest he had ever seen them be. Vibrant with life, stained with tears. Eddie had to compose himself not to show the pain it caused him to see her like that—something he had grown quite an expert in over the past few days. 

But what about the new pain that stung him when she stepped back, and her hand reached for her mouth in shock at what they had just done? He had a brief instinct to follow her and close that gap again, but instead, he doubled their distance. The same question rang through him, however.

What had they done? What did he do? The latter of the questions seemed to be a constantly more frequent thought of his since he had met her. Whatever he did, implied or not, always seemed to be the wrong choice. It constantly only led him deeper into a pit, and with each choice, the possibility of ever climbing out seemed less and less likely. To think that none of this was even supposed to happen. He should have kept his distance from the beginning, should have kept her away, but like any man, he was weak regarding his feelings. 

Was that what this was? Feelings? If asked, many would say he did not possess these. She would be one of them, and twistedly, it made him want to laugh.

He didn’t—laugh, move, or say anything. Neither did she. They looked at eachother, the two-step distance never seeming so great as it did in that moment. There was so much Eddie had wanted to say, to apologise for, and his lips were ready to speak with a light parting when the world returned to them with a slam to the door. With a blink, everything around them became that much more real, and there was no time to process anything. Whoever was on the other side of the door was becoming impatient, slamming their hand harder and harder, making the entire wall shake.

 ‘Come in!’ Eddie hated that the first words that came out of his mouth were this aggressive or that he couldn’t take his eyes away from her and, therefore, could see how she didn’t falter. Two pairs of eyes were locked into place. Only when the door opened to the sight of Harrington, drenched to the bone, did they move. 

Steve’s eyes wavered between them. How obvious was what had just occurred? Eddie felt like he was glowing, set on fire and burning bright. Was it guilt, embarrassment, pride or all of the above? 

Then all three of them stood motionless, observing the others, trying to read each other’s minds in this situation. 

Harrington was the one to break the silence, clearing his throat nervously like he knew his presence in the room was much unwished at that moment. ‘We’ll be arriving on Saint Claire shortly, cap.’

It cost Eddie longer than it should have to find a response, and the words he did come up with were sparse in meaning.

‘Right, yes, of course.’ He began to make his way over to the door when he stopped and turned to look her way, extending the passage with his arm. ‘After you.’

‘What?’ She looked at him in confusion. The one word sounded as if his suggestion was an offence, making Eddie feel hot in the neck. He was losing his grip on things, and this lack of control made his stomach twist. 

‘You are more than welcome to stay aboard, princess.’ Could they tell what he was thinking from the way he moved? Did the slightest twitch in his face or the scratch of his nose give away all his thoughts and insecurities? If so, neither of them did anything. Eddie waited for her to say something, reply with one of her usual snide remarks and try to argue with him. If she had done so, he honestly could not think of how to respond to it. How much longer could they keep performing this little charade? Especially after what had just happened. It was not as if he had planned for things to turn out as they had, but there was hope that some changes might take place between them now. 

Her response came in no shape of words but by her walking past Eddie and Steve, avoiding their bodies swiftly. Eddie followed suit, keeping some distance between her and himself, but Steve kept him up with one foot on the threshold.

‘Hey, you alright?’ He asked in a whisper, not wanting anyone to hear and with his hand on Eddie’s shoulder.

‘It’s fine,’ Eddie shrugged him off. He glanced at the deck to see her standing against one of the masts, looking out at the island ahead. Eddie had not considered the gloom that the storm would bring over it.

‘What happened to your cheek?’ Steve let his chin point out to it, and Eddie immediately regretted his instinct to reach up to his face at the question. What was there to see? He could barely feel the rush from the impact anymore, and when he pulled his hand away, there was no blood, and he doubted a bruise would form, but maybe some redness had started to develop.

‘Nothing,’ he stiffened, dropping his hands quickly.

‘Eddie,’ Steve made another attempt, just to be cut off by his captain.

‘I said nothing, Harrington,’ Eddie pushed his way through. ‘Get back to your post. We’ll be docking soon.’ He walked away but just about heard Steve’s reply that, yeah, he knows. Hopefully, Steve could not hear Eddie’s sigh in relief from the cool rain on his skin. He had not thought that possible after the day's events, but he was slowly cooling down, especially when he met the midnight breeze, which felt good. At least the weather improved, but he still felt his insides twisting and turning like he was caught up in a hurricane. 

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he realised he had nowhere to go. He knew he should stay away from the one place he wanted to be. Again that feeling of lack of control took over him. He felt restless. Hopeless.

Eddie needed to get off this boat. He needed a drink. 

Saint Claire was a small island where people made money through fishing and the constant flow of ships that sailed into its humble harbour. Sailors from all corners of the world supplied the inhabitants with their dire need for food, entertainment and sex. This need resulted in the slow construction of Main Street, which spanned across the eastern coast, filled with taverns, hostels and other required necessities for anyone who might come across it. 

Some called it the Battleground for the amount of broken glass, furniture and other remaining scraps that are always left hanging around after the innumerable amount of fights that break out in the area. The sound of windows or bottles breaking bones was a common melody in the neighbourhood. 

Others called it the Flame, as the light inside the buildings never seemed to go out, no matter the time, pulling in customers like moths to a flame. No matter the time, the night stayed always young. The drinking and singing would not end until the sun rose above the sea, but even then, it was never really over. There was one brief window of peace on the island, somewhere around noon most times, when the ships in the harbour would set sail and make place for the new arrivals, ready for the chaos to start all over again.

For the Hellfire crew, however, Saint Claire was a safe haven. The island saw enough drunken brawls on the daily basis that it did not need to get involved in any of the politics of its neighbouring islands, let alone those further away, and so most shops and those upon it lost their authority the second they stepped a foot on the ground. Because of this, many were under the misconception that the island was a land of no rules, but on the contrary, it ruled under strict self-proclaimed laws, and those who would not abide would pay heavily. One way or another.

This resolved very few arguments between the island’s guests and caused many a fight, but in turn, it resulted in plenty of entertainment for those who happened to walk by or sit next to the fighting parties. Even though Eddie found himself to usually be involved in some capacity, he still found a great sense of enjoyment in it all. He could not read minds, doubted he even wanted to, and had no idea how his crew actually felt about all this, but there had not been any complaints yet in the span of their countless visits to the island.

It had been by pure chance that they had hit the storm while already nearing Saint Claire and that the harbour was just in their reach when things seemed to be tightening down on them. Once the waves had settled and Eddie had made sure that no one had been grievously injured, he made his round on the ship to see what exactly had been damaged. There was the broken barrier on the deck that now gaped out at the sea and was in need of mending. Then something about the angle at which the foremast stood did not sit right with him. It might have been a pre-existing problem or nothing at all, but someone had to check on it before it was too late. Miraculously, the lower deck had barely suffered besides some small leakage that had already been taken care of. In a way, Eddie thought that his office had gotten the worst blow by the small storm that had thrown all his belongings in disarray. He had meant to pick it all up, but how could he clean when she lay in his bed unconsciously. 

The sight of her like that made him sick. She could have listened to just this once, and they could have avoided… all of it, and then he wouldn’t be stuck pacing his ship in the way he was, doing his best to avoid everyone so he could clear his mind—

So, the other reparations would have to wait until the morning. It was late; they were all tired, as the battle against the storm had taken a toll on everyone. There was no use in working deep into the night and possibly making things even worse because of the exhaustion. Instead, they would go into town, drink themselves numb until the sun reappeared, and let the regret of their nocturnal choices set in nicely.

The hellfire sailed into the harbour, and the result of the storm in the town was immediately visible. Already from miles away, Eddie saw how unusually dull it looked. Everyone had gone inside to hide from the rain and wind and boarded up their windows to protect the fragile constructions. But at closer inspection, he saw the slivers of light fighting their way through the blanks and shining out to them like broken beacons.

Their arrival was nothing new, but the comfort of familiarity was missing in Eddie. He had never felt this on edge when stepping down from his ship onto the dock of Saint Claire, never this vigilant. The lack of light brought everything into a different perspective that he did not appreciate. Suddenly every quirk in the empty street seemed to be someone looking for trouble, and every sudden sound must have been a weapon. He kept looking around himself as the crew walked past the darkened buildings. He supposed it didn’t help that he saw at least three ships with royal crests on them, a usual announcement of trouble. But it wasn’t the darkness or the silence that had put his sense on sharp, not even the possibility of encountering any kind of enemy. It was her. Her presence made him that much more aware of all the dangers lurking around.

The reassurance finally came over him when the party reached the last building of the street—The General. It was one of the smallest taverns on the island and usually the least populated one, but nevertheless, it was one of the finest establishments  Edde had ever had the pleasure to visit in his rough lifetime. Walking in front of the rest, he was honoured with the task of opening the door.

As soon as he did so, before he even managed to take one step inside, he felt the wheeze of air pass him by as a bottle hit the wall and shattered into a million pieces at his feet. It could not have been more than an inch away from his ear. 

It was good to be back.

Just like he had expected, there were not many people inside; maybe two tables had been occupied—more than plenty of participants and observants for the fight that was on the verge of starting—when the crew arrived and filled the rest of the seats. Before anything could be said or demanded, a woman walked up, stylishly avoiding the wild limbs being thrown about by the earlier client. The impressive skill at which he had made her way through the room was only enhanced by the way in which she held half a dozen large ale tankards in her arms, all filled to the brim, and not one drop was spilt when she put them down at one of the tables. The party greeted her with a chorus of cheers, grabbing the drinks quicker than Eddie could manage to blink.

The barmaid was still looking down broadly at the few customers she so quickly managed to satisfy when she said, ‘Where is my money, Munson?’ with a matronly smile on her face.

‘Good to see you too, Joyce,’ Eddie leaned back in his chair.

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Joyce rolled her eyes, the size of them making the expression that much more prominent to Eddie, and crossed her arms, unimpressed. ‘Spare me the formalities. You owe me, so pay up.’

Eddie had prepared for this exact exchange before he even realised that the Hellfire would make herself seen on the island, so he opted against fighting with the tavern owner and pulled out a leather pouch with a sigh. It jingled loudly at the smallest of movements.

‘There you go.’ He threw it to Joyce, who quickly caught it and immediately opened it to estimate whether the amount was anywhere near the agreed-upon amount. Seeing her do so, Eddie added: ‘Everything’s there, as promised, with enough spare to cover tonight.’

Joyce gave him a look that they would still see about that before looking around at what else the cat dragged into her place. A room filled with hooligans, drenched to the bone, sunk down into their seats, six of them already with their faces covered in her home-brewed ale. But nothing escaped Joyce, and she quickly noticed the newest addition to the party. Immediately, the hostess within Joyce sprung out. ‘Hi there, what I can get you, Honey?’ 

Eddie looked over. Of course, she sat down as far away from him as possible. He hadn’t expected anything less, really. She had found a spot next to Robin, on the opposite side of the room, and had made herself as small as possible among the crew. She gave it a moment before answering Joyce, clearly unsure how to approach the situation, but eventually smiled and simply refused the offer with a kind ‘I’m alright, thank you.’

‘You sure?’ Joyce raised a brow, but it was directed at Eddie, who had just grabbed himself one of the bowls of sunflower seeds. It was one of the reasons he decided to return to this particular tavern as often as he did. Joyce tended to roast them, so sometimes, they would still be warm when Eddie got his hands on them. He was in the middle of cracking one open when Joyce asked her the last question Eddie had wanted to hear here: ‘How’d you get involved with these guys, then?’

‘Rescued her from the pyre?’ Eddie mumbled against the sunflower pit, looking for the next one to eat, hoping his answer would be sufficient. In reality, it only half covered up the truth. 

‘I was taken from my ship.’ 

‘Your ship?’ Joyce pursued, much to Eddie’s dislike. Maybe she wouldn’t say it, but she’d just nod, and the conversation would move on. Either way, he could not interrupt anymore. If he would do so, he knew that Joyce would just shut him down before he even got a word in. 

‘The Red Tail.’ 

Eddie cringed but hoped no one would see it more as he accidentally bit his tongue… which was also the case. He was too occupied cursing everyone out in his mind than to think of the metallic taste pooling in his mouth. He glanced her way, but naturally, she wouldn’t meet his eye.

Did she know the lack of care Saint Claire has for outsiders? Did she expect anyone to ring an alarm bell for her? Or was she simply trying to embarrass Eddie in front of his crew—but maybe it's what he deserved. Still, he did not need his mistakes to be pointed out so blatantly to him, not in front of Joyce, out of all people. 

‘You don’t say,’ Joyce blinked slowly, turning her attention to Eddie, who decided it was best to stick to the bowl of pits for now and not look elsewhere. He did not need to see the way his friend tried to hide her anger. He just heard her say, ‘well, if you need anything, just let me know. And you—’ she spoke out to the rest, much harsher should be noted, ‘better keep it clean in here. Last time it took me four days to scrub up after you, and I will not be doing that again.’

There was an ensemble of mumbled apologies, which included Eddie. In the world, only a limited group of people held the power to make the Hellfire party feel bad for their actions. It was a short list that very recently just added a name to it, but at the top of it was undoubtedly Joyce. Her stance in front of them was enough of a message they had heard before that while she might not start any fights in her house, she could easily be the one to end them. Eddie had witnessed it enough times to know it to be entirely true. 

With one last disappointed look directed at the captain, one that Eddie wished he had missed because it made him feel like a small kid again, Joyce returned to the bar to serve up more drinks.

The first few minutes of the night were spent in exhausting sobriety and sparse conversation, but as more ale and rum was poured, the party livened up. Like usual, the chatter and laughter brought back their much-needed energy and everything that had happened on the boat that day was soon forgotten.

For the most part.

Much to no avail, no matter how many drinks went down his throat and how hard he tried to think about anything else, Eddie held back from the festivities—uncharacteristically so, as was pointed out by several. As much as he had hoped that the alcohol would wash everything away, he felt just as clear-minded as he had that morning when he woke up in the holding cell. At least his back did not hurt anymore. The kink in his neck would just not go away, no matter how hard he tried, but he had only himself to blame for that. 

Whatever he wanted to do that night,  he could not stop thinking about her. His attention kept wavering over to that one side of the room, where things seemed to be a bit calmer but just as enjoyable of a time as the rest was having. Eddie couldn’t tell what she was saying or doing as she had conveniently made sure to turn her back toward him at any given time, but from how relaxed she sat by, it all seemed… fine.

Out of all the things that had and could have happened, Eddie never imagined her sitting at the table with his sort—though he never believed he was that much different from any other man. But how had this happened? When did this happen? It was like the world had suddenly turned upside down, seeing her sit among his friends, his crew, wearing his clothes, talking. Laughing. Almost as if she belonged. 

Almost because he doubted she would consider herself one with the group, he didn’t blame her. This life was no one’s first choice. Certainly not his. And he could not let her fall into it now too. Not that she would, their journey would last no longer than a few more days, and then she’d be back home, and the Hellfire would never have to go near that place again. 

Eddie had really thought that it would be much easier after everything, but the thought of returning there brought a bitter taste into his mouth…or was that just a burned sunflower seed he had just consumed? He spat it out and washed his throat with rum, ignoring most of the things around him as he concentrated on the heavy feeling that the drink brought. 

‘Joyce!’ someone called out, but Eddie was not paying enough attention to notice who. ‘Where is the lute?’ However, the mention of the instrument pulled him out of the haze.

‘ ‘Where it always is!’ Joyce shouted back. The lute hung over their heads on the wall. Already knowing what direction this was going in, Eddie tried to protest. 

‘Can we not do this, gentlemen.’ He was not in any mood for a performance, but that did not matter. The next thing he knew, the strings were pushed into his arms, and everyone awaited with great expectations on what he would play. Eddie hesitated. His fingers were already on the right chords for the wrong song. He knew no one was interested in listening to it, but it was the only one he cared about right then. So, he let his hands flow freely, strumming the notes to be immediately met with disagreement.  

‘Not that one!’ 

‘Play something else!’ 

Right. He thought for a moment but mindlessly hit the strings until something coherent emerged. He didn’t even need to sing himself; the drunken state of his crew allowed them to do most of the work without a fault. He was just there for the show and that he could do. He hummed along as everyone else belted out the words from the heart. It was a silly song they had all come up with one starless night when the waters seemed to have taken them hostage. It was nothing specific, simply a song of monsters that groaned and heroes who overcame their battles without sweat. What they hoped to all be. Maybe one day. 

Playing the strings had always been like second nature to Eddie. He had been able to do it ever since he was a kid, which often brought him comfort. The repetitive motions gave him stability that his life so often lacked, so he focused on that as his eyes lost their focus on her. Had she been watching him? For a moment, he thought he had caught her looking. He must look stupid with this lute in his lap. He much rather preferred a gittern. The hold was more comfortable on that. 

He should have looked away by now. It would only make things worse if she caught him staring the way he was, but she was too occupied. There was so much going on, after all. Some of them had started moving tables around, creating a place to dance. Since when did they dance? Eddie wanted to laugh. Of course, when there was a lady present, when else? 

She tried to object to the invitations but eventually gave in and was pulled into the circle. The shirt was still too big on her, Eddie noticed. She had to keep pulling the sleeve up over her shoulder, and he had to do everything he could to stop thinking about how he wanted to pull it off her. All of it. If she could read minds, which sometimes Eddie genuinely thought she could, he would be a dead man walking. 

But if she could read minds, she must have been too occupied at that moment. Too busy dancing with the rest of the crew. It was similar to a waltz, but since Eddie doubted most of his men had properly rehearsed one in years, it was an awkward two-step at best. Not that it stopped anyone from having fun. She at least looked like she was enjoying herself. Eddie tried to recount if she had, after all, gotten a drink because this could not be the same woman who had been in his chambers earlier that day. Unless he was at fault for this change. 

He only lied to himself, pretending he had not messed with her. It wasn’t supposed to have been like this. Things just kept going wrong, and then he would panic, and the next thing he knew, he locked her in his bloody room for half a night or stabbed her in the ribs.

The sight of her bleeding still came back to him in his nightmares. As if they were not full of memories already, now she was there too. Covered in blood, and all because of him. She would scream until there was a sudden silence, and he’d hold her lifeless frame in his arms… just to wake up and hope that would be the last time his mind conjured the images up. 

It never was. 

Was he still playing? From the dancing around him, Eddie could only assume so. Surely if he had completely frozen up from his thoughts, someone would defrost him from his mental prison. But no one was paying any attention to him, too occupied by her. The way in which she moved freely around the room would put a smile on any man’s face, and Eddie certainly was one of them. How could he not? He should probably have looked away at some point, but he simply could not. And maybe it was for the better that he was so in awe with her, or he would have missed the brief moment when their eyes connected. He doubted she had meant to look his way, but she still had, and he could have sworn that her lips tightened their smile slightly higher, though it could have just been what he had wanted to see. A shadow playing nasty tricks with him. 

Robin, who must have had a few ales too many, was flailing her arms around, singing along drunkenly to the song Eddie played. It usually went exactly like this. Robin would drink, dance and force everyone to join her and “no” was not an acceptable answer in this circumstance. No one could disagree on the matter, not even Harrington, who sat outside the circle.

‘I invite King Steve to the floor,’ Robin demanded. The two women giggled next to each other before Robin went up to Harrington, who was still protesting and pulled him up by the arm. Eddie had to remind himself to keep up the tempo of the song, which was difficult when all he could hear was the blood pumping in his ears at the sight of him coming closer to her—realistically, Robin had pushed them into eachother, but all Eddie saw was the way he held her hand as they danced together. How he wished it could have been him with her. 

He did not know what stung so hard at seeing them together. There was no rational explanation, only the speed at which his heart raised with anger. And for what? He knew Harrington for years. They were like brothers and would sooner choose to die than hurt the other. Eddie could trust him with his life, so why could he not trust him with her? Why did he need to have that trust? What was it that made him lose all control around her? He just wished to understand his own mind.

As they kept dancing, Eddie had to force himself to look away, already feeling the same dark spark that had brought upon a fire that had nearly burned everything down before. All he could do was remind himself of what he had done to control himself. The memory of you lying on the ground, covered in blood that he had spilt. It was a dumb mistake that nearly cost him her life. 

He had never meant to touch her. It had all been a miscalculation of distance, combined with the sheer blindness of his emotions. The worst was he could not even remember lashing out with the sword. One moment he stood there, watching Steve hold her, seeing her laugh at something he had said and the next, she screamed out in pain. He had tried to stop her, wanting to apologise. He had wanted to run after her, but what good would that have done? Eddie couldn’t think straight.

It was Steve that pulled him out of it. 

‘Eddie!’ He had shouted. ‘What were you thinking?’ To which Eddie had no response because, simply, he wasn’t thinking. It took him too long to regain a grip on his mind, and he took one of the bottles that stood next to the dice table. At first, he had just wanted to drink it all, down it in one go, but he thought of her lying there with the wound— it needed to be cleaned. It took everything in him to get down there, knowing he was most likely the last person she would have wanted to see, and that was quickly proven right.

Words failed him in every sense, so he left before he could make it even worse, but the damage had already been done. He returned to his cabin and immediately noticed a difference. He was sure he had removed most of the paper from his desk the night before, yet the ground was spotless.

She had cleaned up for him. 

Eddie screamed out, and his fist hit the side of the wardrobe. Splinters embedded themselves into his skin as he screamed, letting out all the frustrations he felt about himself.

‘What is wrong with you?’ Eddie heard behind him.

‘You’re the last person I want to see right now, Harrington.’ He didn’t turn around to face him, just walked straight to his desk. He noticed the drawer was open, his letter on top of the bottles, but there was too much going on in his mind to be angry at that as well. For now, at least. 

‘Am I to believe you’re angry at me?’ Steve scoffed as he entered the room.

‘What if I am?’

‘Why? Because I stopped her fall? Talked to her? Because you nearly impaled her.’ As far as felonies went, Eddie was taking the crown on that one. He leaned his head down into his lap. 

‘You know I didn’t mean to—’ he cursed. ‘I don’t know what came over me.’ He couldn’t admit to Steve that the sight of them together had struck a nerve. He was supposed to be better than that. Do better. He really thought he was doing better.

He had no idea where his next question came from.

‘Do you like her?’ 

‘Excuse me?’ Steve was taken aback. 

‘Do you like her? Or are you just trying to—’ The idea of Steve taking advantage of her boiled his blood. 

‘You’re going insane, Ed.’ Steve quickly stopped him, speaking as calmly as he could. ‘We both know she’s not just some girl, and I think she deserves better than what we’ve been treating her like. This situation is messed up, but we could try to make her feel better, not like a prisoner. 

‘But if you want me to back off, fine. I’ll let her be. See how that goes, but don’t think about screwing me over when it all blows up in your face.’ He had warned him before walking out again with only one more thing to say. ‘And Munson,’ 

‘What?’ Eddie stopped looking at his hand, which had gone bright red now from the impact of the wardrobe. Steve’s eyes were filled with sadness, exasperation.

‘I’m not him. Just remember that.’

And Eddie did his best in doing so. He could trust Steve but could not let go of things that quickly. It was, after all, the past that made you who you are. Mankind is shaped by memories, and Eddie had too many of those. He wished he could just forget everything and start over, but what would be the point of anything if it was that simple. 

His fingers began to hurt, as well as his head. Whether it was the music he was told to play or his head sobering up, he had had enough for now and handed the lute to the man sitting next to him. It wasn’t anyone from his crew, just another customer, most likely an islander. The man grinned at him with a toothy grin before starting to pluck away at the strings. There had been a slight whine from the rest in the second the music had stopped, but as it resumed, it was all forgotten. Eddie approached Joyce, but not before snatching away another bowl of sunflower seeds from a table. When he arrived at the countertop, she was already pouring him a pint of ale. 

‘So what’s the story here, then?’ She asked as she watched him down the drink in one go. 

‘There is no story,’ he said once he put the cup down, out of breath, already signing to her to pour another. She looked unimpressed but grabbed the tankard anyway.

‘So I am to believe nothing is going on between you and— and her.‘ She said it with so much meaning behind the one word, and since it was them, Eddie understood all of it. 

Joyce’s big eyes had always been intense. When she looked at you, she looked down deep into your soul, unlocking all your secrets with just that one glance. Which is perhaps why Eddie did his best to avoid looking at her too much. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Boy, you really do exhaust me.’ Joyce sighed. ‘Don’t make me point out the obvious.’ She placed down the next drink, and Eddie took it slow this time, only sipping small amounts at a time. Joyce knew that there was nothing else she could get out of him on this matter, but there was so much else she needed to talk about.

‘How did she get on your ship, anyway?’

‘You heard her.’ Eddie didn’t want to explain it. Not to Joyce. He hated repeating himself. So, he took a handful of sunflower seeds and began to occupy himself with those.

‘Yes, I did. The Red Tail. What happened to it?’ 

‘Do you have any more complaints I should take care of?’ He tried to change the subject, and failed at it miserably.

‘No.’ Joyce still answered him quickly before returning to her question. ‘What happened to the Red Tail? What did you do?’

‘Exactly what I told you I would.’ He cracked open another seed. ‘And see how it’s worked out well so far?’ 

Joyce had been leaning against the counter, but at the sound of Eddie’s words, she took a step back, disbelief written all over her face. ‘Eddie…’ 

‘That’s Captain Munson to you,’ he snickered, but she was too used to his attempts at lighting the mood at the worst of moments. And when that didn’t work, there was only one other thing Eddie knew how to do. 

Joyce didn’t even get to finish her question. Eddie got up as her words faded into a weak ‘Is he…’

He just about managed to say his last words before they got lost in the chaos of the party. ‘He got what he deserved. They all did.’ 

More people must have entered The General because surely this crowd did not come solely from the Hellfire, excluding the handful of local drunks.  They must have come in as the music had started. No one in Saint Claire could pass on such an occasion, causing a large commotion. As the door opened and closed constantly, only welcoming more people in, it was suddenly packed from wall to wall. Eddie felt an elbow in his side as he tried to return to his seat, spilling the ale right onto himself. In response, he threw the tankard toward where the arm must have come from, not caring if he had hit the right person, quickly making himself scarce before the person currently cursing out realised it was him to be the perpetrator.

His previous seat was, naturally, already taken. The dancing had stopped as there was no longer space for it unless they decided to get up onto the tables—a most likely option if given a few more drinks. But neither that nor the stain seeping through his shirt was a problem to Eddie. 

‘Where is she?’ he asked, but no one could hear him. He tried again, louder, directing his voice to the crew closest to him. They all shrugged one after the other. How could someone disappear into thin air while surrounded by dozens of people with no witnesses? How did none of his men bother to keep an eye on her?

Finally, Eddie caught sight of Robin, slouched back in a chair, giggling. 

‘I think she—’ Robin’s eyes couldn’t stay focused, and she kept slipping into laughter. ‘I think she went to get some air—as if there is no air in here?’ She laughed. As a matter of fact, the room was only getting hotter, and it was becoming harder to breathe. 

Was that because of a lack of fresh air, however, or was the tight feeling in Eddie’s chest coming from somewhere else entirely? He pushed his way through the crowd to the door. 

It had stopped raining, but the wind had only picked up since the crew entered the tavern. Some buildings had taken off the boards from the windows, illuminating the street with the candlelight from inside, but for the majority, everything was lit by the moon’s silver glow, and barely at that. Anything outside of Main Street was a dark abyss. Surely, she wouldn’t have dared to wander off toward the forest?. Eddie could describe her in many ways, none of which would suggest she was stupid enough to risk her life out there. Who knew what roamed around in the trees and caves. 

For good measure, although not expecting much of a response, he called out her name as he walked down Main Street. Every time he passed by a tavern or inn, he considered walking inside, just to check if she, by any chance, decided to do as well, but he could not think of reasons why she would have.

‘Can we help you, handsome?’ A woman’s voice called out to him. Eddie turned around to meet two women standing outside one of the taverns. Their black dresses were tightened to accentuate their frames and push up their breasts, making them impossible to miss, no matter how hard one tried. They smiled suggestively until they realised who they had approached. ‘Oh, Munson, it’s you.’

‘Tabitha,’ Eddie was glad to see her for once, ‘did you by any chance see a woman walk by here?’

‘Why? Who is she? Another one of your little conquests?’ Her eyes narrowed into accusatory slits, and her large lips formed a sour pout.

‘Tabbie, sweetest, don’t be like that.’ if Tabitha were to explode like she often had the tendency to do, then Eddie had no time to resolve it, so the best solution was to just try and stick to her sweet side, like a fly caught in honey. He glanced at the other woman beside Tabitha, but she did not seem interested in the old lovers' squabble. If that is even what he could call it.

‘You had promised you would come back.’ Tabitha whimpered.

‘And I did.’ Eddie did not have the patience for this. 

‘To break my heart!’ Her voice came out in high-pitched squeaks. 

‘Now, c’mon, we both knew it wasn’t meant to be.’ The next thing he knew, he felt a harsh sting across his face. The second slap he received that night. The rings on Tabitha’s face only added to the pain, but somehow he didn’t feel it as deep as the first one he received. ‘Do you feel better now?’ He sighed.

Tabitha shrugged, crossing her arms. 

‘So, the girl, did you see her? She was wearing a shirt, trousers…’ he tried to describe her. 

‘Oh, her.’ Tabitha grimaced. ‘Yeah, I saw her. Think she was making her way down to the harbour. Was with some guy. They were talking about one of the ships.’ 

‘What guy?’ This could not be happening. 

‘How should I know. He looked a bit stuck up, if you ask me. A bit like you did once.’ She laughed, and her friend joined her sheepishly. None of this sounded good to Eddie. He thanked them, this time without making Tabitha any drunken promises, and ran as fast as his legs could take him to the harbour. How could he have been so stupid? So careless. He let her go out of sight for a minute, and now, just like that, she was gone. Or it would be if he didn’t get there in time. Maybe he could still catch her?

There were many ships in the Saint Claire harbour, the Hellfire, of course, being the most beautiful of them all, and it should have been challenging to figure out which boat she could be on. It should have taken Eddie ages to realise which ship he was looking for, except only one had opened its sails and created a significant distance between itself and the shoreline. Its silhouette was a black wraith against the moon. 

Eddie’s body deflated. He felt so numb from the shock he barely felt himself falling to his knees. It was over. Just like that, she was gone. He wanted to scream, and maybe he had even done so. It was too much of a blur. All his thoughts merged into that all too familiar and seething whirl of anger. 

How had he been able to do this? None of this was supposed to happen. She wasn’t supposed to be on board that damned ship. They should not have taken her with them. Not locked her up, shunned her out or scared her off. He shouldn’t have done any of them. Maybe it was good he let her escape, but one thing he would never forgive himself for. 

He should never have fallen for her.

He had known better and yet let it happen just like that. How stupid could he have been? At least he could not think of a better punishment for himself than having to live with these thoughts, the regret, for the rest of his life. 

The sand dug into him through his trousers, and he was ready for it to swallow him whole. He would have stayed there if it wasn’t for his crew. Maybe they were too drunk to miss him now, but they needed Eddie. Just as much as he needed them. He couldn’t just abandon them because of his issues. He had brought them into enough trouble because of them as it is. He just had to get over it for their sake. There was nothing he could do anymore but move past it and hope he would forget someday. 

It took some more time for him to be able to walk again. His legs carried him back to his ship, too tired to make his return through Main Street to The General. He had just about enough energy to grab a bottle and sink into it before sinking into his bed. 

It was ridiculous. He knew it. Eddie Munson, captain of the Hellfire, vanquisher of the seven seas… if people could only see him now. Drunk. Exhausted. Alone. Heartbroken.

Funny how history tended to repeat itself.

He threaded the plank up to the ship, keeping his balance as best as possible. His steps were getting heavier with each one he took. There were days when he could have stayed in his quarters for hours, locked away from the world, reading, writing, calculating new routes or decoding more of the cryptic messages he had found in his books. He’d had people give him reminders to come out for meals at times. But now, with everything in there that reminded him of her, how could he go about his days like normal?

How could he be so stupid?

How could he be so stupid to leave a fire burning inside? All it took was one spark, and it could burn everything down. The sight of the candle burning through the strained glass of the door made him speed up his walk up the stairs. Eddie walked in to see the damage, but there was none.

One single candle illuminated the room as best it could, leaving the rest in its shadows, which moved about with the flickering of the light. Despite Eddie having spent hours in the room, having placed every single item inside it, knowing it like the back of his hand, in the dark, it all felt brand new. It was like the darkness was watching him. 

Except that wasn’t it.

On the contrary, suddenly, it was as if the sun had burst inside him. 

Eddie didn’t dare blink, scared that if he moved, she would disappear. Because what else could it be but some kind of hallucination or a dream he would wake up from much too soon. 

‘I thought you had left.’ Against all his willpower, he blinked, but when he opened his eyes again, she still stood there in front of him, and it really was her, only a few feet away, here in his cabin. 

‘I wanted to.’ Her voice was weak, much like he felt at that moment.

‘Then why didn’t you?’ 

‘I don't know.’

Chapter 9 - 18+ version

thank you so much for reading!! if you want more of where this came from, check out my masterlist.

and please support your (not so) local creators by liking AND reblogging. I would love to know what you thought of the story, so please consider leaving a comment, or maybe an ask or even an anonymous review ;P

you are also more than welcome to join the Eddie Munson taglist. right here.

taglist (part 1)

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[magpiefngrl]

hey! curious new writer here. which fix of yours were the easiest to write and which were the hardest? in what way?

Hello anon! Thanks for an interesting ask.

OK I'll start with the disclaimer that every fic has its difficulties as well as moments when it flows, but there have definitely been some that poured out of me with great ease than others which were a constant struggle.

The Miseducation of Draco Malfoy, my first drarry, was written at the height of my obsession and it poured out of me. I wrote like a fiend all day and would go to bed at night and reread what I wrote. I breathed that fic day and night for the weeks it took me to write it. It was also the most fun I had writing, prob because I was a complete unknown and there were zero expectations from me. Similarly, The Full Monty, written just after TMODM, was an easy fic to write. I remember I read the prompt and was immediately assaulted by images and started laughing on my own and was like, OK I need to claim this, the fic is writing itself.

Similarly but in a more tortuous way, dirtynumbangelboy poured out of me too. More tortuous because it took me ages to find the right beginning, and by then I was behind with my deadlines and got stressed. Also, I wrote it in a sort of dread of the Erised fest, because it had some amazing writers that year and I was intimidated. I remember my goal was to "at least not embarrass myself" .

But, aside from the doubts and stress, dnab itself flowed like nothing else. There are passages that I really love, even now years later, and they are exactly as they came out the first time. I did very little editing (compared to other works).

With The Boy Who Died I made a fun post on tumblr about a mdzs AU of drarry and then the idea wouldn't let me go so I had to sit and write it. Luckily it was summer and I didn't work and I could spend my days writing it. There were moments I got stumped but it mostly came out easily.

Finally, a lot of my short fics poured out of me in one go and came out almost perfectly formed. The Dare, A Perfectly Normal Reaction, and my MCD The Death You Carry are good examples.

Fics that took ages at first:

so my thing is that I have to find the right opening to begin the story, otherwise I can't proceed. I don't plan; the first scene/chapter is my plan. And sometimes I get stuck for yonks. With The Unquiet Grave I began with a Draco POV, him being a politician and Harry his bodyguard, had an interesting first scene and then---nothing. It's like I hit a wall. Zero words come. When I have this feeling, I know I need to go back and revise. Long story short, it was when I changed the POV to Harry that somehow the whole gothic mood came about and I felt the auspicious click: I got it. That's what the story is. A gothic romance. After that, it was easier.

The same thing happened with Hush, darling. I rewrote a first scene fruitlessly several times until a random bit of inspiration fell into my hands: the visual of a card game. I began with it and I let it guide me and the whole plot/stakes/cast fell into place.

Fics that needed a LOT of work and had to be dragged into existence:

The Gift is the first that comes to mind. First couple of chapters were pretty easy and then I was stumped. Writing it felt like dragging myself up a slope, step by step and also not being happy with anything, so that was fun. :/

The other is 9 ½ Days, which took actual years to finish. In that case the middle part was the hard one. I wrote the beginning fairly easily and the last chapters, the plotty ones, also flowed. But the middle. Zeus almighty. It took me years and I thought and thought and thought about it a lot. Finishing this fic was an immense relief but also a source of pride, especially because I really liked the result, and judging by the comments I get, people seem to love it too.

Thanks for an unusual ask! It was good to ponder about my fics and my writing process. The same issues seem to crop up with my original works too, and it's helpful to remind myself that I got over those issues before and I can get over them again.

[snek-panini]

It's been a month since Binderary ended but I've still got books to share! This is @worse0mens's (hi!) wonderful Good Omens series, The Blossom Realm, which starts with Omens of Another Kind. This is very much a longtime favorite of mine, an AU with a really compelling combo of worldbuilding and characterization. This is a believable grand romance that's also a court drama and a fairy tale, and it's really long (the full series is about 220k words) so it will keep you reading for a long time. This is one of the fics I learned bookbinding for, and it was the first really long fic that I typeset (and redid once I learned more about typesetting). It's been a long road but it was so worth it.

More photos under the cut!

Couple of photos of the spines. The series doesn't divide easily, with one very long work, one medium-length one, and several shorter pieces. The main story is nearly 200k on its own, the longest single volume I've ever made (about 500 pages), and I was worried about it getting too unwieldy, so I put all the other works into their own volume of about 100 pages. They make a disparate set but I love them. The cover is done in skiver green faux leather from Hollander's; I've never worked with this brand before but I loved it, and one sheet was big enough to do both books. The titles are done in cricut brand gold foil htv. There were some issues with that, as I'd bought a multi-pack with a few different colors and only found out after applying the front cover graphics on both books that one, I didn't have enough to do the backs and spines; two, that the gold in that pack is a totally different color than the gold they sell on its own; and three, that no one in my area stocked it anymore and I had to order it from Europe. Here's what the back looks like:

It's the same graphic as the front but without the title in the center, and it's one of the fanciest backs I've ever done and it took forever to weed all those little cutouts. The graphic was free to use on rawpixel. The font I used on the spines and front is a basic Microsoft font called Harrington that worked incredibly well on the cricut, even at small sizes; a lot of basic fonts are too thin, especially fancy ones, so this was a delightful surprise.

Photo of the top, with ribbon bookmark and handmade double core endbands. The endbands didn't come out as well as I'd have liked; they're a little uneven and the color changes aren't that evenly spaced. Double core ones are harder than I expected and I need more practice. The endpapers are chocolate silk moire, and I chose them because there's a very important massive tree in the fic and I thought they looked like wood grain. I did a little experimenting with the shorter volume that's visible around the edges of the endpaper. I wanted gilded edges but the longer book had to be rounded, and I thought I'd try paint instead of foil since I don't know how to foil a curved edge. But I did my experiments on the smaller volume and I couldn't get good coverage, so the edge had to be trimmed off. The watered-down paint had leaked into the edge of the silk moire too far for me to trim, so it's still there. But it's kind of pretty, so I'm going to call it an aesthetic choice.

The title pages are the same, with free graphics from rawpixel. I got lucky and found a similar set of roses that I used for the chapter headers:

These had to be positioned by hand for each chapter so they'd fit around the text properly. It was a pain but they look so pretty. The final photo contains a story spoiler, so proceed with caution if you don't want that:

The scene break image in both volumes is this tiny snake. This was one of the first aesthetic choices I made for the books. A lot of the plot is centered around a prophecy about a monster snake that everyone thinks will destroy the kingdom, and of course in the manner of Good Omens fic it's a wildly inaccurate misinterpretation and not a threat at all. I wanted something like this because the snake is not only non-threatening but it's been here the entire time and there was never any reason to freak out about it. It was surprisingly difficult to find a snake image that was both simple enough to still be clear at this size and also didn't look dangerous or like a cartoon character. I looked at so many snakes before I found this one, it's ridiculous.

And that's it! I hope the author likes it (and remembers me since I asked to do this almost a year ago). There are three more binderary posts forthcoming, though I don't know how long it'll take me to get to them. It was a busy month.

[poppyfamily]

Amangela Writer Appreciation Post!

I'm feeling a lot of things right now and I've decided to write what I like about my Amangela writer friends' writing. I often forget to leave comments on their work because they are GOOD at what they do, and I often forget I'm in the middle of reading good writing because it just exists (something something baby fish asks mommy fish where water is only to realize they've been swimming in it the whole time). Can you believe they do this for FREE? And share it with us just because they want to? They are GIFTS to the community.

It is such a privilege to be in the same creative sphere as these people and I need to express Emotions or regret not doing it. They inspire me everyday. Here is a public declaration of love, hope y’all are okay with that. Ramblings under the cut, because it goes without saying, this got really long.

@okiankeno is so imaginative with their writing. My Teeth, Your Neck is impressive with its incorporations of many elements that are familiar to Smosh and Amangela while throwing them into a fantastical, supernatural universe. I haven't watched Buffy, but their writing is so good at making this fantastical world feel lived in. The world just seamlessly slides into the way they write character motivations, making for strong characterization and dynamics that have me INVESTED. That Maia/Valerie twist? Screaming. Crying. Throwing up.

@babychosen is wonderful at dropping Amanda and Angela in situations optimized for maximum tension - which is clearly seen in first time that i met you (i didn't have a damn clue) and you could be bad (but i wanna find out). I love how she crafts her plots, keeping me at the edge of my seat for what comes next, which is driven forward by the way she writes dialogue - natural to the situation as it captures a range of emotions: awkwardness, uneasiness, attraction and just all the quirks that come with forming relationships. Her writing is so fun to read!

@sage-lights writes fics that are short and sweet, but they pack such a powerful punch. With just a few words, she's able to tell a story that contains the energy of a multi-chaptered fic. This is especially true in sometimes i hold you closer (just to know you're real). LIKE HELLO. I was on the road when I first read it and it had me spiraling for a good few hours. She also captures their voices very well. They also capture the tenderness of Amanda and Angela in such a specific way. One of my favorites is met you at the right time (this is what it feels like), capturing the intimacy of two women who earnestly love each other, beyond romance.

@xxsuicidalravenxx 's writing explores the inner turmoil of being drawn to someone while having a lot of insecurity about your own place in other people’s lives. You know I'm such a fool for you (you got me wrapped around your finger) captures something so incredibly real about the anxiety that comes with a murky and under-communicated relationship dynamic based on unfair assumptions about both herself and how Amanda feels about her - which ultimately is a reflection of Angela’s own self-worth which at this point isn’t the best. It’s so real, god - the self-sabotage and all that and slowly realizing that the people around her care more about her beyond whatever mistake she believes she’s made. Also just - all Chamangela dynamics are excellently written here. It’s a gift.

@unknownteapot is masterful at her craft. I've said it before - their writing is so cinematic.  I can see it clearly in my mind - so good at painting clear pictures of where the characters are in the story. It's dramatic, tension-filled and just excellent writing all around. Several minutes of my life have been spent reading her fics. I feel comforted whenever I read her stuff, it gives the feeling of hope - that things will be okay even when it doesn’t seem that way. I remember when sweetheart dropped in the Amangela ao3 tag and thinking WHO is this absolutely talented writer that came out of nowhere (to me lol), but now I can't imagine this little community without them.

@shesmore-shoebill is so good at capturing Amangela vibes as we see it. Like it truly feels like they've broken down the dynamic into its bare essentials which enables them to produce fics that I can vividly HEAR.  They also just infuse a lot of tenderness into the way they write Amanda and Angela, whether it's in a joke or in like genuine moments of checking in - both demonstrated very well in empty space and Joint Custody (Hey Siri). Also, you just know they're a good writer without reading any of their fics because they are already so articulate in how they write commentary on videos when they aren't even trying to write a story, so when they do have a story, it just hits even more. So good.

@skiespeaches has authored one of the hottest, tension-filled fics I've read in my god damned life. From the first chapter of The devil is in the details I was screaming over how THE FUCK they were able to make just ONE KISS feel like THAT. Also, really really really love how grounded this is in the way they write dialogue and internal thoughts. It captures the pleasant feeling of realizing just how much you like someone and receiving some cues that they might like you back. It captures actions you take because of those feelings that can get in the way of communicating what you really want, the emotional tentativeness that comes with not wanting to bear your heart completely quite yet - yet there is a willingness to see where it goes, hoping that it does come to that point. The entire fic feels like the most emotionally charged scene of a slice of life movie - which is literally my personal favorite genre.

@ghoulishhgayy - famed author of hit Amangela fic Oil Burns had me invested in a situation that I personally haven't read a lot of in fanfiction. The spirit of their fics can be boiled down (haha get it) to the way they write about two women who deeply care about one another unconditionally supporting each other through difficult times. That's the kind of shit I eat up, and it's done so excellently. They just also write in a way that just makes being in love so appealing. They capture the moment of oh in Oil Burns so well that it has me gnashing my teeth, gnawing at the bars of my enclosure etc etc.

@wlwsmosh manages to get to the heart of a story in a few words. It's actually crazy and I’m in awe of their talent. There is a lightness to their fics that just makes me smile so much while also like having some really smutty scenes, which is so dang impressive - balancing sweetness and steaminess really well while also feeling very much like Amangela. My favorite from them are when i call the shots, you call me mommy which I think feels so much like Amangela voice and humor, while also placing them in a relationship and kink context. Honestly, all of their fics are gems.

@baflegacy is so GOOD at putting Amangela in the silliest of situations (heck, situations that are very much based on what we have seen in canon) and teasing out its potential romantic through line. They have a way of capturing emotions that accompany these situations in a way that just shoots you straight to the core. They write tension so well, and are so good at keeping me engaged with what's about to happen next. All of their works are GOATED. I, however, am extremely biased when I say that my favorite is their birthday gift for me - too good (to deny it) - aka one of the best angsty pieces of writing I've read in my whole life my GOD.

@cuecrynsleep is so!!!! A newer friend whose first fic in the Amangela tag I fell in love with immediately (Being Transparent). It was so simple, but captures Amangela’s adorable nature within the context of a romantic relationship REALLY WELL. I’m also just out here eagerly awaiting every post from Reconnecting the Past, which is a chat fic - a format that I rarely like the execution of, but damn I love the way they’re doing it here with the added bonus of the Changela, Arangela, and Shourtmanda dynamics which is just feels absolutely right. I’m out here thinking what are they gonna do next. They are so good at building intrigue and I’m just here sipping my tea and thinking in my head that I sound like some pathetic fuckboy sexting going “and then what?” because I am seated. I am sat. 

Anyway, if you’ve reached the end of this post - go support these writers!!!! Make sure you let them know if you like their stuff - either through a comment, kudos, an ask, a message, or bookmark. I promise you it makes these authors’ days whenever they see any kind of feedback for their work, and it keeps the community ALIVE. I am guilty of not doing that but it’s always great to try instead of not. I know from personal experience that it makes so much of a difference in their motivation to write more, while also allowing us to savor the work instead of mindlessly consuming it. Thanks for reading me gushing about all of them. Love you Amangela RPF community! Very grateful for y’all more than you’ll ever know <3

[tswwwit]

(sorry, this got way long, and maybe a little sappy, but i didn't want to spam with multiple asks)

so i just finished reading the most recent chapter of the cultist reincarnation au, and i love it so so much.

my personal fave part is bills little rivalry with the mini bill plush. bill waited for so long to see his husband again, and this little plush is getting all of the affection bill wants, i love it. i hope dipper keeps it around after getting all his memories back, because it is a wonderful way to tease bill. just 'fine, i'll just go hug and kiss my new, better husband!' said as dipper walks off with mini bill just to annoy bill.

after reading that chapter i started rereading the entire familiar au (or like 95% of everything that was written for it including snippits, pov changes, and multipart stories, thanks to weirdeggi's masterpost) and its so so fun and interesting seeing bill go from a demonic jackass who barely tolerates his human, to seeing him put so much time, care, and patience into making sure the cultist reincarnation of dipper feels comfortable and relaxed around him. while seeing dipper go from timid and ignorant in the beginning to confident and knowledgeable with the ability to handle all of bills tricks easily.

it's just all so good and you write the characters so so well, i love them so much. i love seeing how much they've grown and drove each other insane/sane. the world building is so well done, especially with how the magic works and affects things. i've read these stories so many times over the years and as they come out, and each new one is always a delight. no pressure on you to rush of course, please take your time, but know that any new fic or chapter you post has at least one person eager to read and enjoy it.

(the rest of this is just going to be fun questions that popped up while rereading, no pressure on answering them, i just thought of them while reading and thought they'd be fun to ask and share)

I am curious about how bill views or thinks about his 'sickness' after the events of confessing it, and if that's different from several reincarnations later. cause i know in the bill v bill fic the other bill still calls it a sickness, and while i know our bill is happy as hell, i do wonder if he still thinks its a sickness or a curse, even if its the best thing to ever happen to him.

i'd also be interested to know if dipper ever makes friends with any demons, cause like i know in confessing it he meets pyronica and she reminds him of mabel, and he kinda got along with the spider centaur demon, but it would be neat to know if he ever makes actual friends with any demons, and if those friendships 1) make bill jealous 2) last over several reincarnations

speaking of the reincarnation, i'm curious when in their relationship that those two put that plan into action. like if it was still early into their relationship or if it was as dipper got older and his days got more numbered. i know bill thinks of it kind of early on while they're together, but that doesn't mean it's put into action right away.

it would be neat to see how all bills henchmen eventually see the whole bond too. i know in confessing it they see bill acting all weird with dipper, and how much his human affects bills mood, so im sure they know its better to have him around even if for a little while. but its fun to think that later down the line when the reincarnations pop up its viewed more as 'vacation time' when the henchmen don't have to take over reality and can relax while bills off smooching his mortal.

Thanks so much; I'm really glad you've enjoyed the fic! If it's been half as fun to read as it's been to write I'll have accomplished a ton.

Okay, onto the questions:

1: Bill likely still considers it a sort of sickness/curse, but like. Not a bad one, necessarily. While his relationship is way weird for a demon, that's actually great! He's the master of weirdness! If it weirds out other beings or confuses the hell out of them, that's proof that he's the best in the biz, baby. And he's very, very happy.

2: Dipper probably does make some demon friends/acquaintances. It's only natural after multiple lifetimes running in the same circles with eternal beings. Given a friendship in one lifetime, it's likely the demons' assumption that they'll just pick back up where they left off! Neat new body, how's it suiting you? (The familiarity weirds out Dipper incarnations until they get their memories back.)

I don't think Bill's jealous of them, though. Hanging out with buddies doesn't register as 'competition' for Dipper's affections, in the same way that Dipper's not jealous of the henchmaniacs.

3: I haven't decided exactly when they settle on the reincarnation thing, but likely it's after a near-death experience. Maybe even post-whump!

4: Speaking of those henchmen! They're eventually gonna get used to Bill being hitched. Not like they have a choice in the matter; Dipper's not going anywhere.

The new status quo is pretty weird, but they knew what they were getting into in regards to 'weird' - and frankly, Bill's in a vastly better mood whenever his husband's home. Something that puts the Boss in a cheerful Fun Times Interdimensional Crimes Party mood? When he gets pissy there's a human who deals with it, rather than Bill lashing out and picking on whoever's closest? Absolutely! They're all for it! Once those Big Upsides become apparent, they're gonna be pleased to see Dipper hanging around.