#fic: of sorrows and saints

[foursaints]

Now I need more thoughts on this teenage stubborn child laborer Reg you speak of pls

so enchanting that in a narrative filled with elaborate revenge schemes, regulus’s great comeuppance basically consisted of, like, fatally stabbing himself & his enemy and waiting to see who bled out first. the suicide-by-locket is so charmingly straightforward! CHILDISHLY stubborn! regulus is not particularly clever, nor handsome, nor interesting, nor likable. but he is practical. and he knows how to endure unthinkable circumstances by being blunt & realistic & strong, and never expecting anything less. and once again this itself is a form of dignity.

no more fanciful french rococo regulus. MY regulus is like a brutalist concrete slab structure in the soviet union and he could effortlessly bloody your regulus's nose. and he would do it with a sullen, dispassionate look of resignation, like a child soldier who has literally never been taught that it’s possible to want for comfort.

no canon basis for any of this but isnt it fun to think about? regulus is like a cold war spy who is so used to training his immunity on cyanide capsules that he gets sweaty when he goes a day without ingesting poison. he understands vaguely that this, probably, is not how normal people live — but he’s never really thought to complain. he fronts the facts of his own life. some people are not allotted a fair share of pleasure.

now imagine THAT regulus having an encounter with james potter. could you imagine how much he would hate him, and admire him, in the same moment? how much james would (obsessively, compulsively) admire him back, for the opposite reasons? even more than he looks up to sirius? they both delusionally think that the other is the Main Character and feel jealous about it. GOD

[blacknailsandheartbreak]

Imagine the group cannot understand how you and Zuko are so close with you being a literal saint and Zuko being... well Zuko

AN: I am back! Man, it's been a hot minute since my last post! ...Lets not think about that because I am back! :) woo hoo

~1400 word count

Part 2 once your done reading :)

SO, lets jump in and see what this Zuko fic about??? Well, imagine this...

The whole group is together and you are the newest member joining from an encounter at a local market. You'd travel alone from town to town, trying to help in any way you can to help fix the wounds the war had created. You fit in well, very polite and nice, never showing any anger, but very capable of defending your own with a bow. You became close with Katara, almost like sisters. Though, unknown to the group that you were a fire bender, you wished to keep that a secret. Your nation had done too much damage and could not bear to be tied to such a name. You hadn't practiced in a long time and were contempt on keeping it that way. You were good enough with your bow, you could protect yourself without the aid of bending. But one person saw through your mask, the only other fire bender in the group. You had a feeling he knew, as he was finding ways to spend more time with you, offering to walk with you to the market, to fetch water or wood, and he seemed to only ask you questions while it was just the two of you. If he did know you were a fire bender, then let it be so.

You volunteered one night to gather firewood, and Zuko promptly offered his assistance, in your nature you gladly accepted, you did like the company. While you two walked, you held a wicker basket against your hip and did most of the talking. Zuko hummed in response, keeping note of their far distance from the camp. As the conversation seemed to die out, Zuko stopped walking and you walked a couple more steps before realizing his halt. You turn around and lock eyes, both of you stand straight and still like statues. You knew what was coming next, your hair swayed slightly in the wind, the setting sun leaving amber shadows across you both.

"You're a bender, a fire bender." Zuko states, no question to his voice. You couldn't deny it, there was no point, he knew. You looked at him and smiled. You confirmed his suspicions, and explained to him that you have been building a new reputation for yourself outside of a fire bender label, trying to heal the brand the fire nation left on your skin as well as all its people and the ones it had affected. Zuko seemed sad, he apologized for his nation, our nation. He had promised things would change after Sozin's comet, once he overtook his father. You smile and agree that Zuko would make a fine Fire Lord, you talk to him about how much you believe can change. Ever since that night You two became close, very close. Close in ways the group could only suspect, but no proof.

On the last night of the Gaangs regrouping, before they had to pack up camp and keep moving, everyone had gone to bed, except for Zuko. He had a hard time trying to get to sleep that night, so he went out for a walk to try and clear his head. He sat by the nearby river and thought about what you had said, to rebuild a new reputation as to not be associated with the fire nation, start anew. Zuko balled his fists in anger at his country, the horrible things, unspeakable notions they had unleashed. Zuko scrunched his nose in disgust and felt the pull of his scar, a sensation that he was use to, one that would usually bring more frustration but only brought him sorrow tonight, as your words passed though his mind, 'trying to heal the brand the fire nation left on your skin as well as all its people and the ones it had effected'. Zuko felt the shame of his land pile on his shoulders, but he decided to head back to camp before he got too far into his head.

Back at camp, everyone was in bed, Toph slept alone in her stone tent, the boys had their own tent, while You and Katara shared a tent. Katara took a leap on that last night and decided to ask you about you and Zuko. She thought now would be the best time over any. Katara looked at you laying with your back to her, she gently poked your shoulder and you turned over.

"Sorry for waking you, but I had a question and I hope you take no offence, but you and Zuko... you guys have seemed to be getting very close... so um... are you guys... you know... together...?" Katara asked you in a quiet whisper with wide curious eyes.

While Katara spoke, Zuko had made his way back into camp and heard the faint whispers. It was unlike him to listen in on others' conversations but they had obviously not heard him return, and he seemed to be the topic of their subject so he decided it was fair game to listen. He caught on quickly as it was something about you and him.

You smiled and replied in a steady whisper, "Zuko and I have become good friends, nothing more." You and Zuko knew there was a bond beyond your secrets you shared, but you two were not together, just close.

Zuko had his arms crossed across his chest, he felt no offence towards the statement you shared, it was true, it was a neutral answer he could respect.

Katara responds "Oh okay... um if you don't mind me asking another question," You nodded her on, Katara continued, "Zuko and you seem to be very different, as in you are so... vibrant and kind, I don't think I have ever seen you mad." She said giggling quietly, and you smiled. "But Zuko... well you know Zuko, he only ever... scowls. Spirits, I think a smile might split his face in half..."

Zuko furrows his brows at the comment, and grabs across his mouth, 'I can smile', he thinks to himself, lowering his hand.

Katara continues, "and... and it's like pulling teeth trying to get him to talk..." Katara looks at you, "How do you- being your bubbly self, connect with someone like him? How can you talk with him for as long as you do when he seems to barely listens half the time?"

'Barely listen??' Zuko thought as his eyebrows shot up at the comment, 'Is she serious? How could she possibly think that!'

You smile at her observation, "Zuko is very kind to me," you say sweetly.

Zuko's face relaxes to your answer, and he uncrosses his arms.

You continue, "But you're right, he never says much, and yes, he is indeed quiet, but when one has gone through so much, it is understandable. We all know that feeling to some extent and we all have our ways of dealing with it. I have accepted how Zuko conveys himself as he had accepted me for how I present myself. But over all, yes, he does listen, even if it seems he is not, he always does." You conclude with a sweet smile.

Zuko is almost taken back from your answer in a way he cannot explain, but it feels as if an unknown weight has lifted off his shoulders from your response. He decided to leave the conversation there as he had heard all he needed to, and turned to walk away. But the next thing you said had caught his attention.

"Who knows," You add, "his ears are probably burning right now with the mere conversation of us talking about him...". You both giggle and say your goodnights. Zuko smirked and rolled his eyes and walked back to his tent. Although, as he replays the conversation over in his mind, something sits like a small rock in his stomach. 'Zuko and I have become good friends, nothing more.' Nothing more, he thought over and over in his head, maybe with time that could change. Once Zuko becomes Fire Lord and is able to start the change that the world needed to heal, you would embrace your bending and be proud of your nation. But that would come in time, so for right now, he could work with good friends.

[darklordofthesimp]

Anything IX

The 9th instalment in the Anything-Verse

Main Masterlist

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8

Like the characters? Read their fics below!

Sunshine Masterlist || Saint Masterlist

Series Summary:  A lack of information from the chain of command results in König mistaking you for an enemy sniper.

A/N: I'm back for good this time cos I bailed out of my trash job of 6 years hello mferssss

Warning: Graphic Language, Graphic description of violence

You’d been thinking about your past more often than usual, especially on the nights that you lay staring at your ceiling. Saint told you that it was a sign that you’d begun to move on. The villain that had consumed your thoughts was now a tentative ally and you’d been left with history seeping through the cracks. 

You were almost grateful. 

Almost. 

You thought about your career before the incident, about the missions that went impossibly wrong. Death, grief, sorrow, hatred, and guilt, they weren’t things that you experienced alone. Shared pain eased the blow- you weren’t the only one suffering and, in a way, that provided comfort. 

However, the mission that truly plagued you was a mission so highly classified that there were only four people who still knew of it. There were only four people who survived it. 

“You and me, Birdy. 

We’re dead.”

You sat up in your bed, mind kicking into overdrive. The dim light on your wrist indicated that it was well past midnight but your blood was electrified.

You’d been so preoccupied with what had happened to you that you’d stopped thinking about what you’d done. Why had someone tried to kill you, you had to have done something. You had to have known something. 

“We’re dead.”

You pulled your duvet from your body, the cool air washing against your skin to make it prickle. Winter was, by far, the worst month to live on base. The heating units in your block were terrible and outdated with the empty promise of upgrades. You slid into your slippers and ventured into the hallway, palms rubbing up and down the length of your arms. 

Your feet were on auto-pilot as they led you to the door of the last person you’d expect to seek out. There was no light seeping out from beneath cracks and you couldn’t hear a sound from inside. He might not have even been home, it was a Saturday night after all- no one was in. Not even Simon, and that was saying something. 

You shifted your weight on your heels, wincing when the floorboard creaked under the pressure. It couldn’t hurt to knock. Or it could, you supposed. You had no idea why you were here, knocking on his door at 2am in the morning was unhinged behaviour.  

You took a step back from the door, another creak betraying your position. This was a dumb idea. You could talk to him in the morning like a normal, functioning human being would. 

The door swung open suddenly, forcing your heart into your throat. 

König’s hulking silhouette filled the frame, shadowed and imposing. He barely fit through the door as he stepped into the corridor, the dim warmth of the ceiling fixtures washing over his figure. 

You quickly realised that he’d been asleep as you took in his visage. Sleep tousled hair, a vulnerable gaze, König stood before you shirtless in long tracksuit pants. You forced your eyes to remain fixed to his face as he looked you up and down. 

“Birdy?” He rasped, scrubbing his face lazily with one hand, the other resting on his hip. “Why are you lurking at my door?” 

Indignant heat crawled from your neck and into your cheeks. “I wasn’t lurking, I was about to knock.” 

König narrowed his eyes, silently telling you that he knew you were lying. You changed the topic, crossing your arms defensively. 

“I just wanted to talk about something, I didn’t realise how late it was.” You cast a glance down the hall where you’d come from. “Sorry to interrupt your beauty sleep, we can talk in the morning.” 

As you turned to leave, hot with embarrassment, König sighed. 

“Birdy.” He called. 

You peeked at him tentatively from over your shoulder. 

The man opened his door and gestured inside. Your breath hitched in your throat, the room behind him was dark. That jade gaze watched you tiredly but with intent. He wasn’t going anywhere with you, this time you would have to come to him. 

“Are you sure?” You asked quietly. 

You received a nod in reply. 

With a sharp breath and squared shoulders, you wandered cautiously into the lion’s den. Your bare skin brushed against his waist as you passed him, sending a thrill down the length of your spine.

A floor lamp turned on behind you, flooding the room in a warm, sensual glow. You barely heard the door click shut, you were too busy taking in the room before you. It was nothing like you’d been expecting, furnished and decorated with a surprising attention to detail.

The room smelt lightly fragrant, as though incense was lit frequently enough to linger. You caught sight of candles on the desk to your left, ‘cedar wood and myrrh’. That would do it. 

The corner of your lip quirked upward at his library/gaming corner. A dark wood shelving unit housed a plethora of his books and a gaming console, then a flat screen mounted in the centre. Bean bags were neatly organised atop a dark rug, you figured they would be more comfortable for him than an inevitably too small couch. 

A game was still playing on the screen, the character standing inactive in their own world. 

“Were you playing?” You turned to look at König, who seemed very suddenly uncomfortable.

“No,” he cleared his throat and cast his gaze to the floor. “No, I fell asleep while playing.”

Your eyes were drawn to the bed last.

“That’s a big bed.” You don’t know why you said it. 

“I’m a big guy.” Was the reply. 

The bed was tall, something you would have to climb onto if it were your own. There was a large, dark wooden headboard pressed against the back wall, framing the bed like it was the main feature of the room. Dark silk pillows adorned the matching silk bed sheets, and you could only imagine how comfortable they would be on your skin. 

You turned to face König who had put a shirt on somewhere amidst your gawking at his home. 

“I didn’t think your room would be so…” You trailed off, gesturing at the space around you. 

“Delicate?” He offered, self deprecation ringing through his tone. 

“Nice,” you finished. “I was going to say nice.”

A small smile finally graced his lips, the first one you’d seen all night. If you hadn’t known any better, you’d have thought he sounded self-conscious about the space he’d designed. 

“I spend a lot of time here,” he shrugged as he offered you a beanbag. “I wanted it to be… nice.”

You took a seat, sighing as the tension in your body dissipated instantly. König stretched those long legs out as he got comfortable atop his own bag across from you. 

“Why don’t you get out more, there’s plenty to do around here,” you mused. 

König chuckled darkly, “people don’t like me very much around here, Birdy.”

The mood dampened at that, the energy in the room shifting. His green gaze had lost the softness that you’d almost grown accustomed to, becoming guarded instead. You wish you’d just held your tongue. 

“What did you want to talk about?” König asked, crossing his arms over his chest. 

You swallowed thickly, bracing yourself for another shift of his attitude- this time to anger. You weren’t afraid of his frustration, not anymore. God knows that you’d seen enough of it directed at you to know that you were physically safe. Despite that knowledge you still hated seeing it with every fiber of your being. 

“I want to tell you about a mission I did a while back,” you said shakily. “Then I want you to help me figure out whether it might be connected to everything that’s… happened.” 

König’s eyes narrowed, darting to the door and back. He stood to his feet quickly and you flinched as he brushed past you. You turned to look over your shoulder at him, surely he wasn’t walking out of his own room. 

“I thought we agreed to drop it,” he growled beneath his breath and you weren’t sure whether he was talking to himself or you. He was rummaging through his desk irritatedly, muttering as he worked.  “Of course you didn’t drop it. Why would you? Let’s all die together!” 

Soft music began to play and you raised your eyebrows as he placed a speaker against the door. 

“What, are you setting the mood?” You snarked, settling back into your bag as he returned to his. He shot you a withering glare. 

“It’s so that no one hears us as you, once again, try to get us killed by talking about this on base.” He hissed, propping himself up. 

You rolled your eyes at him but you knew he was right. It would be more suspicious if the both of you had gone on an excursion into town together, you’d have all eyes on you. There weren’t many places for you to approach him about information but it seems all the places you have were wrong. 

“Tell me about the mission,” he sighed though his nose. The frown lines on his forehead softening as you nodded.

“This mission was, and is, highly classified. You cannot tell a soul about this.” You warned, watching him earnestly. It was König’s turn to roll his eyes. 

“Yes, I will try my hardest to not tell all of my best friends in the 141.” 

You shot him a withering glare. 

“Fine,” he groaned. “Obviously I will not tell anybody, Birdy.” 

You nodded, satisfied with his response, before launching into the details of the mission.

-

“Alpha 1-1 to Bravo 1, SITREP, over.”

“Bravo 1 in position, green status, over.” 

“Bravo 1, maintain position. Payload incoming. Alpha 1-1 out. 

You drew a deep breath, taking in the view a final time beyond the scope of your rifle. You’d perched up on the high ground, neatly hidden between wiry bushes and dirt mounds. The U.S forward operating base, its entrance, and the arterial road in, were all at your mercy. 

Your mission was to provide cover for a high value payload and offer additional defense to the U.S FOB while it received. For a black bag operation it was deceptively simple. Then again, you had no idea what the payload was. You’d been told that the objective was to protect a Shadow Company squad while they  “delivered the milk.”

You weren’t important enough to be privy to more than that. 

A dust trail in the distance indicated the payload’s approach and you set to work. Thermal imaging provided you a clear picture of the incoming convoy as it cleared the crest. To your alarm there were only three vehicles before you, for such precious cargo you thought that there’d be a larger security detail. 

There was a civilian blocking the route ahead of them that you’d raised concern about prior. U.S soldiers had been dispatched from the base to remove him but were thus far unsuccessful. Your stomach tightened as the convoy slowed to a halt 350 yards from your position. 

As one of the Shadow members dismounted their vehicle you couldn’t shake your rising paranoia. You felt the hairs on your arms raise and your skin prickle- a sniper’s sixth sense. You turned your sights to the crest the convoy had appeared from. 

There was something very, very wrong. 

You watched the crest carefully, praying that you were paranoid. 

But, you never were. 

“Sierra 1, contact rear, near ambush!” 

No sooner than the callout had left your lips, the incoming vehicles opened fire. 

Chaos erupted the way it usually did in war. The screams, the callouts falling on deaf ears, the gunfire- it all blurred, really. The only thing you could truly hear was your own breath. Every inhale was steady and your heart followed in suit, a steadfast sniper was the most accurate. 

And there was a reason that you were the best. 

One by one they fell. Amidst the cloud of moon dust and the flurried movements you could see everything, and everyone, as clear as day. The floor was littered with bodies, men from both sides ironically meeting the same end.

A blinding flash forced your eyes shut as your scope lit up. The explosion rocked the earth beneath your stomach and you knew then that the fight was lost. An RPG blast had ended it all in an instant, obliterating the men you were protecting. Limbs, shrapnel, and wreckage were all that remained of Shadow Squad.

Your teeth were clenched tight enough to cramp your jaw. You couldn’t get a shot with the enemy operators hidden behind the cargo. 

“Bravo 1, don’t let them take that fucking payload!”

Shepherd's voice was desperate, a growing hysteria that you’d never heard from him before. 

“I don’t have a shot,” you ground out through your teeth. 

Between Graves and Shepherd barking half-baked orders down the line, there was little coherency.

The mission objective was a monumental failure and an unjustifiable amount of lives had been lost that day, along with the payload. There was only one survivor of the ground assault, a blessing in itself. Dipaolo had been knocked unconscious in his vehicle after the RPG explosion and assumed dead by the enemy. 

You had tried to talk to Dipaolo briefly while waiting for your transport home. He’d been mumbling to himself dazedly in the back corner of the medical room for hours when you approached him. 

“Dipaolo?...” You trailed off. The man had lost his entire squad in one hit, he’d woken up to their blood on his face and their limbs scattered across the dirt. No amount of experience can give you the right words to say to a man like that.

His hazel gaze met yours, distant and tired. 

“What have we done?” He whispered. 

Your tongue dried in your mouth and you could only stare at him in response. You’d failed is what you’d done. You’d failed this man and his men and you couldn’t protect them. 

“We’re so fucked,” he shook his head. “We are so fucked.”

“What-” you’d barely choked out the word before he grabbed your wrist roughly. You yelped as Dipaolo pulled you in close, the smell of sweat and blood on his skin. He reeked of death.

“Do you know what we’ve fucking done, Birdy?” The Shadow hissed through gritted teeth as you tugged uselessly against his grip. “Do you know what we just fucking gave them?” 

“Let go,” you rasped. Panic began to rise in your chest when his gaze turned hysterical. 

The door behind you flung open but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the man before you. His grip tightened as he flicked his sights to the medics entering the room. 

“Do you know what we’ve done, Birdy? Do you know what we gave them?” His words blurred together desperately. “We’re fucked! You hear me?” 

“Woah, woah, woah!” Relief flooded your chest as the returning medic inserted himself between you and the crumbling soldier. “Let’s just back up for a second.” 

You ripped your arm from his grip and immediately turned to leave, your skin burning where you’d been detained. You tried to tune out Dipaolo's screams as you left the room but this wasn’t a battlefield and you had no rifle- you heard it all. 

“We are dead!” The Shadow’s voice broke from behind you. “You and me, Birdy, we’re dead!”

-

König’s face was stony as he leaned back into his seat. 

The silence following your story was heavy and your mouth was dry. You couldn’t remember the last time that you’d spoken so much in one sitting. 

“Birdy,” König mused, “when was that mission?” 

“A while back, a few months I’d say,” it was a rough estimate. “I’d have to check my dates.”

König shook his head, green eyes flashing with alarm. “How long did it happen before our… incident?” 

You blinked slowly, taking in a deep breath. Your heart dropped to your stomach and it was as though König knew what you were going to say before you said it. 

“It was the last mission I had…” you trailed off shakily. You felt like you were going to vomit. 

König’s eyes hardened as he voiced the realization that you had both come to. 

“It was the last mission you did before I was sent to kill you, Birdy.” 

[checkeredflagggs]

What Happens in Las Vegas Doesn’t Always Stay in Las Vegas

+1s — Logan Sargeant x Reader

When a member of Logan’s team gets married in Vegas, he invites the new wife and her bff to travel with him as his Williams guests. He didn’t know being a +1 would also see him in love

Secret Sweethearts — Pierre Gasly x Leclerc!Reader

las vegas was a lot more exciting then people think

A You Problem — Charles Leclerc x Alonso!Reader x Max Verstappen

partying in vegas can lead to things that are such…a you problem

Bad Luck No More — Charles Leclerc x ex wag!Reader

after being dumped for “being bad luck”, you don’t expect that drowning your sorrows will lead to getting married with a fellow heartbroken soul

A Bet is a Bet — Lando Norris x Reader

Lando didn’t know a bet would lead him to her, y/n didn’t know that accepting his proposal would lead to forever

Mr and Mrs ?? — Liam Lawson x Singer!Reader

What to do when you get married in Vegas, wake up alone with only your half of the marriage certificate? Wonder what your new last name is and sing about it at the F1 75 Live show.

Sweet Tooth — Charles Leclerc x Reader x Alexandra Saint Mleux

Alex and Charles meet the sweetest girl they know. Now how to get that sweetheart for themselves?

Is Anyone Gonna? — Logan Sargeant x Girlfriend!Reader x Jenson Button

Jenson unexpectedly finds Logan and his girl getting drunk married in Vegas. Jenson also finds himself unexpectedly married in Vegas.

aka the “is anyone gonna take care of them? No? Ok I’ll do it” fic

Obviously — Oscar Piastri x Norris!Reader

Oscar doesn’t know why Lando is freaking out so much — obviously he and y/n are married

If You Say So — Max Verstappen x Russell!Reader

Apparently Max and Y/N Russell got married in Las Vegas? If you guys say so…

[ninaskchn]

𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐭𝐞 ༉‧₊˚.⁀➷

therapist! jonathan crane x female reader.

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: when your father decided that you needed therapy, taking you to his dear friend dr. crane to treat and help you, you thought it wouldn't work at all, but it turned out to be everything you needed.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: SMUT(minors dni!!), noncon/dubcon, depression, cursing, crane is a mysoginistic prick, using therapy for unhinged reasons, smut, hair pulling, jonathan just being an creep, choking AND strangulation, dacryphilia, hitting, unprotected sex (safe sex its great sex!!), breeding kink, forced breeding, power dynamics, i think crane should be a warning himself, reader being borderline stupid and naive. also this has a lot of backstory i’m so sorry i got carried away lol.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 7.1K

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: omg my first fic on here!! this is also my first work on english and my first smut ever so i apologise in advance for any mistake!! i hope y'all enjoy it anyways ahahahaha live laugh love jonathan crane👏🏻 feedback its very appreciated so i can improve and continue to publish better works, anyways enjoyyyy 💓

𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝘁

It was awkward, to say the least.

You were sitting across from Doctor Crane in the couch at your dad's house, legs crossed as you watched him write on his clipboard, something about it making you feel anxious, a little nauseous, even.

This wasn't your first session, you started doing this four months ago, not long after your divorce that caused you to fall into a spiral of sadness and misery. Your failed— and short marriage was the main reason you started taking therapy with your dad's friend, the chief of Arkham, Jonathan Crane, and still, you couldn't bring yourself to talk about it.

He was patient, you told him several times that he was a saint. Regardless, before you started with the sessions, he explained to your dad that he didn't really do this; therapy really wasn't his strong suit, but for a friend, a desperate one, he would gladly do it.

Your dad came to him, offering a big stack of money if he would talk to his little girl, make her recover her once joyful personality, like you had one to begin with. Jonathan really couldn't say no, and not really because of the money, he had other reasons in mind, unethical reasons.

And there you were now. You were quick to open up to him, eager to talk, to be listened and he, on the other hand, was ready to listen, to give you advice, console you and help you get through the sorrow that was following you since you were young, playing the role of your knight in shinning armor.

"I can't believe you don't actually do this" you said once, sniffling your nose with a handkerchief he gave you as he examined you with a warm gaze, an empathetic grin on his face. "You're really helping me"

Jonathan was quick to wave his hand and tell you that it wasn't a big deal, that he was just doing his job, and if you weren't so innocent, so stupid, you would have noticed the mischievous sparkle that flickered in his eyes for a split second.

You were landing right in the palm of his hand.

Not even thirty minutes into the first session you told him everything about your past; every little thing you thought he needed to know to treat you. And you were slightly right; he did need to know those things, but not to treat you, just to manipulate you and mold your little brain into what he was envisioning for you and your future together.

Truth was, you hated everything about your life, regardless of the fact that you had everything. That's what you've been told since you were a child; a big house, a lot of money, maids taking care of you so you wouldn't have to move a finger and just sit pretty and relax inside the walls of the huge mansion that confined you since you could recall.

You have everything. That was bullshit.

Sometimes, you couldn't help but think that people told you that out of pity, like they knew how miserable you felt, but not daring to say a word about it. Your dad was a powerful man, and you were aware of that, ever since you were born, he had bussines with Falcone and you knew that people feared him, he practically ruled Gotham, that lifeless and dangerous city that you had to live in.

You have everything. You were tired of that sentence. You didn't care at all about these nice things surrounding you, those dresses in your closet, those diamonds in your jeweler, that fancy car you owned since your eighteenth birthday, no, that was useless in your eyes, because all you really wanted, was love.

It was a lonely life; you learned how to do everything by yourself, how to comb your hair, how to deal with your period when it first came, how to dress up properly and do your makeup. You didn't even had to learn about boy problems because there weren't any boys in your life, you were homeschooled. So you were quiet, not really having to talk at all, there was nobody to talk to.

And since Jonathan was the only person you were talking to at the moment, you started to feel like you loved him, the idea sitting right with you without you even knowing it, thinking that this was how therapy normally went.

Loneliness striked your life at a young age; your mother died from a strange disease when you were eight, leaving you with a shattered heart thad bled everytime you walked past her bedroom, or saw a picture of her. You practically watched her die, a witness of how she lost her strength, how her once beautiful skin turned pale and yellow, and lost every little spark within herself, and the worst part was that all the money you had, couldn't even help her.

It was a deep wound that you carried with yourself, with nobody to talk about it.

Your father spent his days locked up in his office, and when he wasn't there, he was out in the city doing unthinkable things that you didn't even wanted to know about, leaving you on your own, having to fill all of those silent and empty rooms by yourself, with nobody to laugh with, nobody to hold you and see you grow. He wasn't really around, working all the time, too busy to know that his daughter didn't seem to care about all the expensive stuff he bought for her, not even taking the time to have dinner with you or hold a simple conversation. He loved you, you knew that, he just wasn't the type to show his affection with words or actions, but with gifts. And you hated everything about it.

But now, Jonathan was there, making you feel listened, finally saving you from falling into loneliness again. Your whole life, you thought you had a horrible sickness, that you were doomed to this awful destiny of sorrow and silence, but now, with his sweet words and good company, you couldn't be more than relieved.

You wished sometimes that you met him earlier, that this whole therapy stuff started before, and you even confessed it to him. And it irked him a little, that you didn't even remember how you two really met each other, hiding his annoyance with a warm smile.

Some months ago, your father started to brought you to parties he attended, parties were all the corrupts scumbags from Gotham reunited and celebrated how they were dragging the city to the gates of hell on their benefit, and you couldn't be more happy to attend them. You knew he was bringing you because he recently broke up with the young girl he carried with him— that was most likely your age, and needed a pretty thing to hang of his arm and take care of the people he didn't feel like talking to.

So you accepted this new life, eating up this role of socialite like it was made for you.

It was a chance to know people, to speak and make new friends, but you learned quickly that those people weren't there for that, and picked up on how mostly of the people who talked to you just wanted to climb up the social ladder and gain some extra points from your father.

He, even, introduced you to a couple of people that seemed close to your age, and you chatted with them, feeling extremely anxious because you weren't used to this, so it was weird to them seeing such a pretty woman, with your status and fortune, acting so shy and quiet in a place that your dad practically owned.

After a couple of hours, you learned the agenda. All you had to do was put on a fake smile, get them off your father's shoulders and pretend you were very interested in what they had to say, hiding your uncomfortable expression behind your glass of champagne, promising them that you would arrange a reunion with your father someday.

One of those nights, your father introduced you to someone, someone who you didn't pay much attention because he seemed to be uninterested too, only being there for the sake of his job.

"Pretty girl, come here" your father said, a cheerful tone of voice as grabbed you by the shoulder to get your attention, snapping you out of your train of thoughts. "I want you to meet my friend, Doctor Crane"

You looked at the man in front of your dad, his pale blue eyes already sizing you up discretely, looking at you up and down in a way that didn't go unnoticed by you, a shiver running down your spine as his eyes finally locked with yours.

You couldn't help but feel small under his gaze, your glass now forgotten in your left hand, the right one extended to take his and stretch it for a quick second, returning to your first position, his expression remaining serious.

"Nice to meet you" he spoke, his voice sounding like velvet in your eyes, not quite sensing the undertone behind it. "Your father told me wonders about you"

You grin, the irony of that sentence making you laugh a little, what wonders could your father know about you? But you kept your composure, the conversation not going any further, and you forgot about him fast enough, when in another of those annoying parties you met the love of your life — or so you thought.

That same night, when you went back home, you were thinking about spending the rest of your life with some guy that flirted with you at the bar, and Jonathan, prayed to whatever thing listening to him up there, that crossed your path with his again.

He practically obsessed with you, because it felt right. You were young, beautiful, wealthy and had a last name that could open even more doors for him, getting tired of saving Falcone's man of going to jail; you were an opportunity, tied to a nice pair of legs.

After a few weeks of stalking, it kinda broke his heart that naive as he expected you, you got married to the guy from the party; he told you then his name was Lewis, and now you doubted it that was even true.

You were finally going to get what you always wished for, a family, love. And it was perfect. Everything was perfect.

It was a dream that you were living in. A dream that shattered in front of you no longer than three months after.

After you contracted married with this man, you took care of the house, now learning all of these housewife duties that you didn't know anything about, but making your best effort to please him, to be the perfect woman ever created, departing from your old life and habits and adjusting them to his own.

You couldn't be more happy, regardless of your bad cooking, the bad-swiped floor and the half-done bed that welcomed you both every night, you finally had love.

It lasted three months. Your wholesome real life fantasy of a marriage destroyed when you found out, accidentally, that this man was just an employee of your dad, willing to get a promotion if he married you. At that moment, you didn't know who you hated more, if the bastard, or your dad who was literally bribing the bastard to love you.

But your dad only wanted to make you happy, tho.

You were embarrassed, not quite sure of how to tell this to Jonathan, because after all, he was there for you, just for the money your dad was paying him. Your cursed the day your dad became rich, because all of it was making you miserable and it felt like it wasn't going to stop.

At this point, a feeling of despite against you was growing within Jonathan, after a few weeks treating you, he quickly remembered why he didn’t chose this path of career, but remembering that he was there because of a major reason; a reason more important than your helpless cries for attention.

He was sick of you, all you ever did was complain in the commodity of your million dollar house, unaware that there were more important problems in the world. It isn’t completely your fault, Jonathan thought one day, you were just an ungrateful brat, and his work was to tame you, and he planned to do just that today.

"So," he startled you, narrowing his eyebrows, an expression in his face that you could only understand as concern. "remember, if you don't speak, I can't help you".

You chuckle and shift your weight in the chair, immediately feeling your eyes fill up with tears as you confronted the fact that you had to speak about it, right now. He was quick to offer you his handkerchief, as he always did and with shaky hands you took it, sniffling onto it, closing your eyes as you felt your whole body shake with each one of your cries.

You felt Jonathan put his hand on your knee, softy caressing the skin that his thumb could reach, opening your eyes and looking at his, Jonathan welcoming you with a pitying look. You put the tissue aside, both him being so close and his scent impregnated on the piece of fabric making you feel a little giddy, a little confused.

Why was your heart racing so much? He was your therapist, here to talk about your former husband.

Jonathan couldn't help but grin a little, knowing he was maybe breaking a rule here, touching you like this, being so close. He couldn't care less, after all, he wasn't here listening to you cry and bitch about your whole life for the sake of your well-being. He was here because he wanted you to break and get on your knees to him. Figuratively and literally.

"It's so embarrassing" you struggled to spit out "He didn't even love me, Doctor"

He hummed, dragging his chair so he was a little closer to you, you looked at him through your teary lashes and tried to keep it together, this wasn't the first time you cried in front of him, but the reason itself was enough to make you feel full of shame.

He didn't say anything, this being a motivation for you to continue.

"My dad was paying him" you murmured, cleaning the mascara off your cheeks. "It was all a lie"

The whole situation was absurd, what happened to you still felt like a sick joke they were playing on you, your dad and Lewis, probably waiting for the perfect moment to tell you the truth.

But that wasn't going to happen, right now the only thing that felt true to you was Jonathan. He set you up to that, and you blindly fell on his silly trap.

"Poor thing" he cooed you, moving his hand a little further up your thigh, noticing the goosebumps on your skin. A mastermind, that's how he felt. "How could they?"

That was all the mendacity he fed you with since you started seeing him, making you believe he was actually empathizing with you, full of loathe against everyone who hurt you, who dared to leave you alone, but now he was there, his task being to pretend to care.

"It's pathetic" you blurted out, leaning into his touch when his prying hand went up to your cheek. You really couldn't say anything more, crying against his hand like it was something you did every monday morning. "I'm so sad. I don't know what to do"

He shook his face, your eyes meeting his with a confused expression, black stained tears dropping on your lap and wetting his hand before he returned it and looked over his clipboard, pretending to think.

You were so vulnerable, ready for him to destroy. He finally got you where he wanted. He then explained you that you were so sad that it made you unaware of a lot of things, blinded by your own pity against yourself that every door that opened, you closed. It all came down to a thing; you needed a diagnosis.

He gave you a moment to process the information, ready to continue with his plan.

"Actually," he started, his tone now more firm, more strict, the one he used when you were approaching the end of the session. On the last one, he recommended you to touch yourself, to liberate oxytocin on your brain or something you really didn't understood.

It was almost evil from his side, he knew that your only thought while doing it would he him ordering you to do so.

"I'm sorry to be the bearer of such awful news, Y/N" he stated, making your heart skip a beat. "But I think you're sick"

You nearly gasped, the air got stuck in your throat, more tears gathering in your eyes. You lifted one of your hands to your chest, a million thoughts crossing your head as Jonathan's clever eyes examined your expression.

Bingo.

"Sick" you repeated after a moment, almost like you were making peace with the revelation. "How sick?"

It was an innocent question, your tone of voice shaking as your inferior lip trembled, holding it with your teeth in an attempt to not burst into tears again, your whole body feeling like it was going to break into a million peaces by how much you were shaking in the couch.

Jonathan was quick, standing from the chair he was on and taking a seat by your side, his hand swiftly placing in your knee. You looked at him confused, he never got this close, maybe your sickness was serious.

"What am I, Doctor?" you whispered, your eyes showing him a hint of fear that made him finally lose all his faked professionalism. "Depressed? Crazy?"

Both of you were dying of anticipation now; meanwhile you feared that you were going to get admitted to Arkham, Jonathan was seeing the golden ticket to the best future he could ever achieve, and all thanks to you.

"Oh, no, no" he purred, his hand making its way up to your thigh. "You're sick, not crazy"

You parted your lips as his hand moved more further, not really sure of what was happening, not daring to stop him, too scared of your mental health to think about anything else, not helping the way your legs started to part too.

A sudden gasp left your lips as his hand squeezed your tight, a smile you never saw on him appearing on his face. The crying stopped a moment ago, the surprise of having him so close making you go a little numb.

"I know what a girl like you needs" he said, almost sternly, like his hand wasn't centimeters away from your panties.

Was in that moment, that you knew this wasn’t about therapy anymore.

"You think so?" you whispered, your voice still shaky, but now for a whole different reason. "And what is it, Doctor?"

"To be fucked stupid"

It almost shocked you how he said that as it was a normal diagnosis, like he gave you a name of a medicine you could go and buy at any drugstore in town. You gulped and didn't move when his grip tightened on your leg, your face growing red.

A loud gasp escaped your lips when at your lack of response, Jonathan grabbed you hard by the jaw and forced you to look at him. Your eyes glistened with nothing but fear, your brows narrowing as you mumbled something that he really couldn't understand, and it wasn't like he wanted to.

"You're sick, Y/N" he repeated, more harshly this time, his hand moving your head as he spoke. "And I'm going to cure you"

He let go of your face to clasp his lips against yours, a kiss very far away from sweet, his mouth moving roughly against yours. You never had been kissed like this, so you tried to play it along, trying to show him some of the love you felt for him, that you thought you owed him.

But he didn't care if you felt loved during the kiss, trying to assert the dominance he held upon you, his hand now holding firmly the back of you neck to prevent you from pulling away.

It was a mess; your teeth clashed, drool was dripping from your chin as his tongue explored every space of your mouth, not leaving anywhere of it untouched. Your movements were a little stiff, unsure of what to do, trying to provide the sweetness that he lacked.

His hand moved to your the front of your neck and squeezed it a little, making you yelp in surprise, the sound muffled by his mouth. You tried to get away from the kiss, confused about his rough actions against you, a little scared of him even, almost like you didn’t trust him every little part of your brain in this same couch for the last couple of months.

But then it clicked on your foggy brain, he knew you, perfectly— you only knew his name, you didn’t know what this man was capable of.

You could only move a few centimeters away from his hungry mouth, your lips parted as tears welled in your eyes from the pressure he was applying to your neck.

“Stop” you managed to stutter, your breath mixing with his. “I can’t- breathe”

You doubted that he listened to you, your voice not coming out of your throat at all and getting stuck in your larynx, your voice-box completely muffled by his strong grip.

“Shut up, brat” he spitted, his tone sounding full of abhor, your eyes wide open as you felt the air leaving your body and your lungs starting to burn. “Always getting what you want”

You weakly placed one of your hands around his wrist, another attempt of gasp elicited from your agape mouth as he lifted his other hand and choked you with both, something in your dizzy mind telling you that he was possessed.

“Crying all the time- complaining” he continued, not caring if you were listening, the suffocation being to much to bare now. “So selfish”

And maybe he was.

Your brain was filled with fear, wondering how it all went from a kiss to this— almost getting killed by your therapist in your couch. You opened your eyes to meet his, feeling like your chest was on fire as there wasn’t any air flowing in, seeing how the blue of Jonathan’s eyes has darkened and his lips were parted as well, the muscles of his jaw twitching as he choked you to death.

Your eyebrows narrowed together in terror as you noticed that familiar tingly sensation in your lower belly and your thighs clenching together. Maybe it was something about him exercising this power over you, how you felt so feeble under his touch, that was probably leaving bruises on your neck for you to carry and show around what he was making you do it.

You didn’t have enough time to think about it, you were practically dying.

“And you are enjoying this?” he said with an amused tone, probably noticing how your thighs fragily contracted against one another.

You felt yourself slowly lose your consciousness when finally the relief came and the air started to flow again to your desperate lungs, taking long and loud puffs of air when his hand let go of your neck. Your erratic breath was interrupted by a loud moan that escaped you when Crane yanked you by your hair and shoved you to the floor.

He was quick yo position you between his legs, looking at you through his unfixed glasses, giving you a twisted smile that made you quiver in fear, that growing wet patch on your panties making you feel like a really sick girl.

“Doctor-” you mumbled, closing your eyes as he pulled your hair, withdrawing a mewl off your mouth. “Hurts”

“You talk when I tell you to talk” he snickered, adjusting the way his fingers gripped your hair. You thought that he might just pull out the strand he was tugging. “I’m sick of your whining”

You felt more tears well up in your eyes; not sure if it was from the pain in your head or how his words felt like a knife that landed right on your heart. You were confused, sad, angry— a little hot, too.

“I pay you yo listen to me” you said, your voice so shaky you were lucky he could understand you. You wished he didn’t understand you.

Another sort of moan left your lips as a hard slap made a landing in your cheek, your face turned to the side because of the impact. You closed your eyes in disbelief, a cry coming out as you felt helpless, wondering if this was some exposure therapy he was experimenting on you.

He repeated himself, instructing you to talk only when you were told so, nodding in defeat as you accepted whatever this was and continued to play along with Jonathan’s sick fantasy of controlling you, without even knowing it.

You looked at him with nothing but inquietude, the look in his eyes giving you the foreboding that nothing good was about to happen now, frightened of what we would do to you.

He didn’t show any hints of letting go of your hair anytime soon, just holding it firmly to keep you looking at him through your heavy lashes, a wicked grin on his smug face.

“Let’s give that whining mouth of yours a good use” he said, and you gulped, understanding what he wanted and quivering in fear, not really understanding why the sticky sensation between your legs grew.

“Undo my pants” he commanded, and you stayed still, your eyes not leaving his even when another slap landed on your tear-wet face. “Do as you’re told, brat. This might be your only cure”

You couldn’t help but sob a little, his tone sounding so definitive, so professional. Your trembling hands reached his belt and unbuckling it ungracefully, taking longer than he expected, you heard him chuckle as you unbuttoned his pants afterwards, then putting your hands back in front of your lap.

“C’mon” he pulled your hair again, causing you to moan in pain. “Don’t make me tell you what to do”

You looked at him again in nothing but shame, trying to resist to this humiliating request of his, but complying it anyways. He said he was going to cure you, but now you doubted it, right now, you only wanted this to be over.

With a last look at his eyes you returned your attention to the growing bulge in his slacks, the shame in your brain being present at all times, not quite helping the way your eyes were fixated on his clothed member. You were quick to free him out after your staring earned you a other harsh pull of hair, your lips turned into a line when his cock slapped his abdomen, causing his dress shirt to wrinkle a little.

“Go on, Y/N” he encouraged you, as you looked at him with pleading eyes, silently begging him for mercy, knowing that even if you screamed it at him, he just wouldn’t listen. “This isn’t about what you want, anymore. Is about what you need”

A tear slid from your eyes and disappeared down your cheek when his free hand placed the tip of his hard cock on your parted lips, gesturing you to take it and not waste more of his time— more than you already did.

“Open up, whore” he said under his breath, using your hair as a device to move your head and help you shove his length down your throat. You complied, the tears in your eyes now soaking in you cheeks by the effort that you were making trying to welcome his thick shaft down your mouth.

You were sure you scratched him with your teeth a few times as he bobbed your head up and down with his strong hand, manhandling you without care for his own pleasure. You placed your hands on his knees, trying not to gag, but when his tip touched the bottom of your throat, you couldn’t help it.

You cried as you felt suffocated again, now for a whole different reason, a more humiliating one, and you almost wished he killed you then. His hips buckled everytime your lips reached the base of his cock, the room filled with the sounds of your mouth and saliva coating his shaft and the soft moans that came out of his poisoned lips.

“Take it, whore” he said, his voice now husky and distorted by the pleasure, the pain that your teeth accidentally inflicted on him turning him even more. “God- you are horrible at this”

He chuckled between heavy breaths, pulling you by the hair and releasing his cock from your mouth, a vulgar pop filling both of your ears at the sudden separation of your lips and his member. Your eyes looked at the floor, feeling such a shame that the mere thought of meeting his face with your fearful face made you cringe, the pulsating pain on the back of your head making you dizzy.

“You can’t suck dick properly” he said, his tone sounding like he was making fun of you. “No wonder why your husband left you. You’re just pathetic”

You finally rose up your face to look at that insufferable smile of his, ignoring the way his cock was still hanging there in front of you, almost brushing your nose. His fingers finally untangled from your hair and giving you some sort of solace, the consolation that this traumatic session was over.

Maybe the remedy was worse than the sickness itself.

“Jonathan, stop it, plea-”

Your imploration was completely ignored, followed by another slap on your wet cheek that made you cry even more, not understanding how this man could’ve been the same one who made you felt loved and finally listened. You fell for a lie once again.

“Get on the couch” he simply said, his words were like a bucket of cold water fell on you. “Stop the bitching, don’t want to hear it”

“And I’m your doctor. Not Jonathan” he reminded you, making you feel even more ashamed.

You did as he told, again, half-standing from the floor and sitting next to him, trying to take as much space from him as you could before he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer, your face growing red as his face was now centimeters away from yours.

“You look so beautiful when you cry” he whispered, caressing your face but trying to nor wipe the tears away, almost like he was admiring you. It made you melt into his touch, glad that his kind demeanor was there again. Even if his words made you cringe— and the fact that his cock was still out, you felt your heart grew warmer by the way he tenderly touched you.

It didn’t last much longer, when his lips twitched into a malicious smile and went down to nibble your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses around the bruised skin and bitting where his fingers hurt you previously, making your fingers wrap on his hair and cry for mercy, trying for him to stop hurting you this much.

“Shut up, stupid brat” he repeated that same insult, making you swallow your cries, closing your eyes in disbelief as he continued to injure your already suffering skin.

You arched your back in surprise when all of the sudden his hands reached for your breasts, groping your tits like his life depending on it, stimulating you through the fabric of your shirt, but all you felt was fear and anger, impotence flowing through your veins because you just couldn’t scream and push him away, fear was freezing you on the spot.

The worst part? You maybe didn’t wanted to push him away. Because maybe if he gets what he wants now you would be cured and he’ll be back to normal, returning you the sweet Doctor Crane that you met once, not this monster that was groping you like a piece of meat.

He clicked his tongue and dropped both of his hands to spread your legs open, forcing your back to drop onto the hand rester of the couch. You looked at him with big eyes, your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest and scream to Jonathan that enough was enough, you just couldn’t take any of this anymore.

But your heart stayed there, between your lungs that seemed incapable to hold any air, making your breathing erratic. So nobody screamed Jonathan to stop, and he continued with his profanation against your persona— your dignity.

He bit his lip at the sight of your fucked-up face, your legs open as it showed him the dark patch on your baby blue panties, darting his eyes from your half-exposed crotch to your teary eyes.

“God, keep crying and I might come now” he growled, lowering his face to meet your pussy, kissing it through your underwear, making you mewl, closing your eyes at the sudden attention your core was getting.

You felt embarrassed at how much you enjoyed when he moved the fabric to the side and started making out with your cunt, swallowing your fluids like a starved man.

“So wet” he mumbled against your labia, the vibration making your eyes roll back, bitting your lip to prevent any moan to come out; he was raping you, why did he make you enjoy it? “I bet you like this, to be treated like a whore”

You shook your head, more tears falling out of your eyes as you felt nothing else but humiliation, pleasure washing over your body everytime his tongue brushed your clit, your back arched against nothing.

“You like it?” he said, finally pulling out and pushing his body up so his face was in front of yours, his cock grazing against your now stimulated pussy, a gasp leaving your lips, a gasp that quickly turned into a hurting moan when his hand slapped you again, this time in your throbbing cunt. “Answer me”

“I- I do” you whispered, gripping his shoulders when you felt him align the head of his member with your whole, scared of how it was going to fit. You had trouble taking it when he face-fucked you, how the fuck it was going to fit down there?

“I’m going to fuck you so good” he whispered between pants, jerking himself off before entering you. “You’re going to forget that pathetic husband of yours”

You couldn’t help but cry, trying to push him off by the shoulders, a terrified look on your face. “It won’t fit, Doctor” you pleaded, a crooked grin on his face as you keep on calling him that. “I beg you, don’t-”

“Yes, beg me” he said, starting to push his member inside you with a slow but relentlessly pace, not giving you enough time to adjust, just to scream and hit him weakly on the chest, face and shoulders before ge grabbed your hands and pinned them down, on the sides of your body. “I’m going to cure you- do you so good”

His voice was low, as he barely could speak when he felt just how tight you were, your walls hugging his cock just the right way, his pulsating head making your mind dizzy, the stinging pain starting to be forgotten.

But when he slid out and entered back it, the hardness of his movement made your insides burn with pain, a loud cry echoing in the walls of the living room as he started to trust into your pussy with a fast pace, not caring at all if you felt good.

He snapped his hips against yours with an animalistic force, growls escaped from his mouth every time his cock was welcomed by the warmth of your stretch whole, the sensation making him go even more feral, making you cry more.

He let go of one of your hands and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at his eyes as he fucked you vigorously, the blue on his iris not existent anymore, only his widely dilated pupils meeting yours, your blurred vision distinguishing the depraved expression in his face.

“You- so tight” he snarled, his voice barely audible, covered by the sound of skin slapping and your loud cries. “I bet your stupid husband didn’t fuck you like this”

You felt nothing but shame as you felt his cock now sliding in and out more easily, the wetness of your cunt growing as he spoke to you like that, that familiar heat flourishing in your lower belly as his words degraded you, your cries quickly becoming moans.

“This was all you needed- fuck” he said, his spit splashing your face as he talked, his words full of disdain. “A good dick, that’s all it takes to keep bitches like you quiet” You nodded, thinking that if you agreed he would stop. How wrong you were.

In a quick movement Jonathan took his cock out and spun you around, not giving you time to get on your ass up by laying your chest down before he stabbed your hole again, pushing your skirt all the way up to see how his pelvis came into collision with your ass.

You were moaning like a bitch in heat now, sure that the maids were listening, not really caring about it anymore. Jonathan was fucking you nice and hard, your mouth wide open as his tip brushed your cervix, screaming to him to keep it right there.

“I’m close” he said, pulling your hair back to press his chest to your back, his other hand going down to play with your swollen clit, wanting your to come around his cock like the slut he knew you were. “Come with me, you whore”

“Yes” you moaned, your tongue out as his cock hit the right spots, making your hips to move against his, grinding against his hand and dick, feeling your wetness drip down to your thighs. “Yes, yes, I want to”

He laughed, approaching your ear with his tongue to bite it, leaving a long and wet kiss underneath it that made you grow hotter, your eyes closed as you let him use you; the only thought in your mind being him and his wonder-working cock.

Truth was, he was fucking you stiffly, every slam of his hips stronger than the last one, but you were so deprived of touch, so dick-starved, that even if Jonathan was fucking you like a lifeless doll, only for the sake of his pleasure, you loved it, even when it hurt you.

“I’m going to fill you up” he said against your ear, his hand leaving your clit unattended as he grabbed your hip to increase the velocity of his thrusts, ramming your hole like a demented man, making your head drop against his shoulder and scream at the ceiling, now knowing what he meant by curing you.

“Going to get you pregnant” he said, more to himself than anything “so you don’t have to bitch about being alone anymore”

You opened your eyes with terror, you didn’t want children, you were so young. The idea made you frightened, the moaning now sounding like little nos and pull outs, but Jonathan didn’t listen.

“Doctor please, please, pull out” you pleaded, reaching for his hips and trying to push him away, one of his hands slapping your ass and pulling you down by your shoulder blade so you wouldn’t fight anymore. “Doctor Crane please”

“I will fucking fill you up, Y/N” he chanted, laughing at the idea of your round belly and your swollen tits, carrying his baby all day and feeling all worked up and needy all day, only waiting for him to fuck you all day. “You won’t be alone again. You won’t be sad again”

Then you realized it.

When he came, your hot walls creamed every single drop of his cum, making his thrusts sloppy and slow, his moans filling your ears as you sobbed under his touch, feeling his seed paint your walls and load your insides with his sperm.

That was your cure.

His hot release that now flooded inside your leaking cunt, that was your so-promised antidote. He took away your solitude by giving you his and yours firstborn, a bastard baby that would give you the company that you lacked.

You felt him chuckle as he rode out his high, the chase of his own climax made you forget yours, so now there you were, your swollen cunt looking for its release while his rested among your insides calmly, like it was meant to be.

He didn’t pull out immediately, taking his time to appreciate the sight of your skirt resting in your hips all rolled up, your bruised neck and messy hair, the way your ass was exposed to him by the way he had you arching your back. All for him— for him to wreck.

He pulled out and rolled his eyes when you started crying, now being annoying instead of hot. You sat on the couch and saw him button his pants and fix his hair, hissing when you felt nothing but pain growing in your worn-out pussy. You explained through your weak voice how he ruined your life, that he was the worst person you’ve ever met and that now you had to carry the product of his sick and twisted rapist-fantasy, even tried to hit him, but your pathetic tantrum only gained you another slap in the face, and a stern look.

When he tried to stand up and leave, you grabbed him by the wrist and begged him not to, he couldn’t just leave you, not now, not ever.

“Don’t be so ungrateful” he said, a smile that made you feel nothing but trepidation in his face. “You’ll never be alone again”

You couldn’t help but feel scared. Scared of him, of what just happened, of what’s going to happen next, scared for your future son with this evil specie of a man.

When you continued to cry, and he pulled you for a hug as he assured you that he would never leave you; and how could he? He had a long life of success waiting for him now, giving a girl of your status his last name, his children. Oh, it’s going to be wonderful, he just needed to tame you and make you the perfect slave for him, and that wasn’t going to be hard.

You were sure that you’ll never be loved, but at least now Jonathan was going to be with you. You’ll never be alone again.

thanks for reading. w/love, fenina;)

taglist: @lovesickxcherries @genini @ilunapb @ostricx @devotedlyshadowytheorist

if you want to be added let me know, it’ll be my pleasure🫶🏻

[aethon-recs]

This Week in Tomarrymort (28 September – 3 October 2024)

So many updates this week!! I feel like this has been one of the busiest weeks for one shots and new fics, particularly with @tomarrybigbang fics and art posting this week.

As always, please feel free to add some extra context to your fic update in the reblog, like a little bit about the chapter(s) updated, as I rely on the authors to share a bit more about their updates, if you’re so inclined! 🤍

A recap of the author notes from last week:

Sits the wind in that quarter by @mosiva (M, 47k, WIP) “Getting close to the end of Sits the wind now! A little bit of omegaverse, a lot of Regency-era romance. Harry is onto approx his fifth change of circumstance so far and Lord Riddle is inching closer to a confession!” Dream a little dream (of me) by @cenedrariva (E, 17k, WIP) “In Chapter 3, Voldemort continues to sneak into Harry's dreams and dismiss his nightmares, until on the last day of the summer holidays, Harry does something unexpected..." War Prize by @duplicitywrites @moontearpensfic (E, 10k, WIP) “Harry is a war bride in a Voldemort Wins AU, but he is also Voldemort's bodyguard. Smack (smut as crack) treated seriously, with dark themes!” I need you to live well by @onehitpleb (T, 2k, complete) “My oneshot is an alternative ending to my gen fic, where Tom grows up and falls in love with Harry. Please read the prequel before reading the oneshot sequel." Touch of Death by @moontearpensfic (E, 3k, WIP) “Touch of Death is pretty much Tom gets knocked up with eggs from an Eldritch (MoD) Harry.”

*

Tomarrymort One Shots and Completed Fic

Chapter 7 (completed) of midnight train by @girl-with-goats

Chapter 5 (completed) of Stand my ground by @ciacconne

Chapters 1 and 2 (completed) of Tangled Up by @known-concepts

One Shot | here, despite your destination by @theonceandfuturequeenoftarts

One Shot | Soil by @ratzeebatz

One Shot | forgive me father by @cindle-writes

One Shot | hot and bothered, seething by yourself by @2sidesofthesamesoul

One Shot | Sharp or Dull? by @xodahafez

One Shot | on line sex & rabbit stew by @izharmilgram

One Shot | A real voyage of discovery by @theonceandfuturequeenoftarts

One Shot | the treacle tart chef by @00queasy00

One Shot | Man of the Year by @known-concepts

One Shot | The last enemy to be defeated is death by @thespacebetweenworlds

*

Tomarrymort Ongoing Fics

Chapter 1 of One for sorrow, two for mirth by @easterndreamer

Chapter 1 of A Murder by Crows by @iseliljathedreamer

Chapter 36 of Part One - The Solitude of Suffering by @iseliljathedreamer

Chapters 1 through 4 of The Brief Fiery Plummets by @marrythemonstersao3

Chapter 8 of Do It Over by @marrythemonstersao3

Chapter 14 of Just Business by @holaolla1

Chapter 1 of Among Us by Blossom26

Chapter 1 of Lunacy by @crowcrowcrowthing

Chapter 3 of Lovely Bitter Water by @pagesinmylife

Chapters 1 and 2 of Mending Broken Things by @tommarvoloriddlesdiary

Chapter 4 of Forbidden Darkness by @neurowriter14

Chapter 1 of demons and angels hang with us by @duender-writes

Chapter 1 of Auror Potter by @albondiguilla007

Chapter 19 of Date Ideas for the Linguistically Inclined by Antique_Mango

Chapter 1 of such unholy heaving by @cealesti

Chapter 5 of Fetters of the Damned by @sc0rpiflow3r

Chapter 11 of Saint Harry by @alenablack @chaos-bear

Chapter 126 of Liquida Tenebris (Remastered) by @dymis

Chapter 2 of Goodbye Evergreen by @v33r00 

Chapter 7 of God is a Wizard by @onehitpleb

Chapter 22 of Time Stumbler by Wintumn

Chapter 17 of When time and reasons fail by citrumade

Chapters 39 through 41 of Terrible, But Great by @isalisewrites

Chapter 11 of Of Soulmates and Sweet Suffering by hannah_bean

Chapter 8 of Anytime, Anywhere, Always by @moontearpensfic

Chapter 6 of The Unintentional Consequences of Prison Reform by @badluck

Chapter 4 of i am anonymous, you are a concrete wall by Pensievable

Chapter 17 of Outrunning the Villain in You by @zenyteehee

Chapter 7 of These Fragments We've Shored by @rowena-rain

Chapter 7 of all you do is kill, love snakes, and lie by @soopsiedaisies

Chapter 2 of Older by @v33r00 

Chapter 4 of Dreams Beyond Blood by @hikarimeroperiddle

Chapter 3 of Memories of a Killer by @chemfreak89

*

[pinegreenapples]

Radiostatic fic recs part 2!

Hello again! I'm back with more fic recs! You can find the first post here. It has been updated to reflect what unfinished works have been finished. As always, be respectful of the authors and thank them for their work! Happy reading!

Finished

Killer Ex

Alastor and Vox used to date. At the scene of one of his latest crimes, Alastor finds something of Vox's. He pays his old flame a visit.

your vice is a locked room

I like this one a lot! It has some really funny one liners. Alastor's rut hits him and he finds he can't get Vox off his mind. He seeks Vox out and they clash together.

>Run Vox.EXE

I love the portrayal of the programs and the idea of Vox using programs to supplement himself. When Alastor disappeared, Vox became more reliant on his programs. Now that he's back, Alastor hates Vox's programs and wants for his friend to stop hiding behind them.

Animal Urges and Indulgences AND Aggression and Vivisection

These two pieces are connected and delightfully dark! Vox likes to perform ritual dissections for Alastor. Alastor finds it to be the only thing that arouses him enough for sex. They both do not waste the opportunity to enjoy the moment.

And You Know, It's Cause You're Beautiful

Alastor gets dosed with love potion and seeks Vox out for some relief. They have a wonderful night together.

Shall We Begin

Alastor uses his magic to connect to Vox's nervous system and fuck him. This piece is romantically one-sided.

What Makes You So Special?

This one's cute and sweet! The Vees collaborate with Asmodeus to open an Ozzie's in Pride. Alastor sings a song that finds both Vox and Alastor tangled in each other's arms at the end of the night.

Radiostatic Trilogy

Now I know this title is unassuming, but this series is very good! Alastor goes into heat while live on air. Vox was waiting for him to finish his broadcast and ends up helping him through his heat.

I'm Not A Saint (But I Could Be If I Tried)

Vox sacrificed himself to save Alastor and ended up in Heaven. Unfortunately for Heaven, he's not interested in being a perfect angel when his love is down below.

i want your violence, your silent sedation

Years ago, Vox killed Alastor on live television. Except that he didn't-he kept Alastor alive and dependent on him with no one the wiser.

Coal Black Heart

Vox has a meeting with Valentino and Alastor gets possessive. It ends poorly for them both.

Territory dispute

Alastor set a firm rule years ago when he became an overlord-no deer sinners were allowed in Pentagram City, so why is there one working at Vee Tower?

Error 404: Radio Demon Not Found

Years ago, Alastor made a website for his radio show. Vox finds it and helps bring him into the 21st century.

Calculated Risk

Alastor and Vox get drunk one night and Vox finally gives in to the desire to make Alastor his. With the morning comes regret and an unexpected confession that changes everything. Note: This fic contains dubious consent that seems to be noncon at first!

Happy Anniversary

Vox has a very special surprise for Alastor for their anniversary. Alastor is extremely touched by Vox's thoughtfulness.

Roasted Venison Haunch

Alastor decides to make venison for Vox. Vox is enjoying the time together, especially when he can be a little shit about it.

Late Night Partner

Alastor goes to his favorite bar and finds an enterprising young demon there waiting for him.

Fetch Quest

Alastor contracts I.M.P. to go to IKEA to find a blahaj for Vox's birthday.

Escort Mission

After Alastor's high praise of I.M.P.'s services, Vox contracts them to escort them on an anniversary dinner to Ozzie's.

How do you want your Radio Demon?

Valentino sets up a special night for Vox with one of his hookers. It's everything and yet nothing like what Vox really wants.

You took me to Hell, too

After being rejected by Alastor, Vox goes to a bar to drink away his sorrows. A freshly dead Velvette makes his acquaintance.

you get me closer to god

Alastor and Vox try out hypnotism in the bedroom.

You're on the Air

This one is by the beloved rillyrillo, author of the Safe with Me series! This piece is a short and sweet human AU. Alastor hosts a live podcast/radio show and allows time for callers to ask him questions. Vox calls in regularly.

long run the fox

An adorable little regency AU! Alastor is an eligible bachelor who is tired of the season's balls. His mother engages him in a wager to find at least a companion of some sort if he does not want to marry. Alastor is certain he'll win until he meets a peculiar gentleman by the name of Vox.

Signals Lost and Found

This series is a sequel to the fic Competing Frequencies, which I have not read. However, the series stands up really well by itself and has an excellent take on the consequences of Alastor's fight with Adam. Charlie hosts an activity where the residents have to make a list of people they have put before themselves. Alastor finds himself putting Vox on that list much to his chagrin.

Lady's First

This is also by princeliest, author of the 666! series and just as delightfully sexy! Alastor finally caves to Vox's little jokes and goads about them having sex together.

Home Again

This piece is my work! Alastor returns to Pentagram City after his absence and reconnects with both Rosie and Vox.

Backwards Evolution

Vox wakes up to find his head replaced back to the model he fell into Hell with. To make matters worse, while he adjusts he's at the mercy of Alastor who seems to want to play some perverse version of house with him. Now a series!

Mixed Signals

This one's a hilarious sort of crack fic. Alastor and Vox fight with their radio waves and end up accidentally impregnating Alastor. Now, Alastor and Vox must navigate their fraught relationship as the embryo saps away at Alastor's strength.

Empathia

When Alastor disappeared seven years ago, Vox ripped out his own heart and put it in a box. In his place, Vox.exe took control. Alastor notices the drastic changes in Vox's behavior and decides to uncover the root cause.

Fully Booked

This is an ABO fic that plays somewhat into the dynamics. Alastor desperately wants a child of his own so he makes a deal that will make him fertile and decides that Vox is the ideal partner for a strong child. Vox would just really like Alastor to stop fucking around and help him through his heat, goddammit.

Deals Are Meant to Be Broken

Years ago, Vox accidentally sealed himself and Alastor into a terrible pact and ended their friendship. Now, with Alastor's return, the two go through the growing pains of dealing with the fallout of that night.

Taming the Deer

Velvette and Valentino decide that the best next thing is to finally kill the Radio Demon. Vox can't go through with it. Instead, he kidnaps Alastor and attempts to woo him. Alastor is less than impressed.

Unfinished

Every Madman Has His Vice

This one has a really unique premise that I am enjoying immensely! Seven years ago, Alastor tore Vox's chest open and left him for dead. Now, Vox is back, and helping Charlie Morningstar with her new project, the Hazbin Hotel. What happened while he was gone? And how will Alastor react now that Vox has come back to life?

Magnolias Grow Best with Entertainment

Alastor is an omega and Vox is an alpha hopelessly pining after him. He decides to try and court Alastor-Alastor takes it entirely the wrong way.

Audio and Video

Alastor and Vox were business partners before Alastor disappeared. When he comes back, he immediately ropes Vox into helping him with the hotel. Shenanigans ensue.

A Deer Watcher's Odyssey

This one's fun and cute! Vox decides he's going to destroy Alastor emotionally by instigating a romantic relationship with him. Except, perhaps his actions are not motivated entirely by hate. Alastor finds himself curious and flattered as he becomes the object of a secret admirer's affection.

No Audience to Perform For

I love the way this is written! The interactions between Vox and Alastor feel very accurate! During the next extermination, Angelic Security fails astronomically and Vox suffers the consequences. Only, somehow, he's still alive, and trapped in Alastor's room.

Dapple Rose

This one explores an interesting premise of Alastor being the one obssessed with Vox! Vox and Valentino come to the hotel to discuss a business proposal with Charlie. Alastor takes this as an opportunity to secure Vox-the one that got away-back under his wing. Vox does not take it well.

Once Bitten, Back for More

This is written by prince-liest, and they wrote the 666! series so you know this is good! Vox has been following a topside crime podcast for years when the host suddenly dies. Vox wastes no time in finding him and trying to make him a friend, and possibly more. Alastor would just like something to make sense down here and for the TV man to maybe be a little less creepy.

Of Candied Pine and Cherried Smoke

If you liked the Safe with Me series, this is by the same author, rillyrillo! Vox's heat suppressants stop working because he's built up too much of a tolerance. In a panic, he contacts the only person in Hell that knows he's an omega. Alastor has never been affected by those base urges, except now Vox is working through 50 years of heat suppression and doing it in Alastor's very own bed.

Contested

Alastor contests his contract and wins his freedom. However, his freedom is still tied to the paper and he must find a way to properly dissolve his contract. Vox just wants to help his old partner out of whatever mess he's created.

His Chains

This is an intriguing take on their simultaneous respect and disdain for each other. Alastor's soul is sent for auction and Vox can't pass up the opportunity. Alastor dreads what his new dealer will put him through but Vox surprises him.

A Bad Deal

Please be advised, this fic involves rape. In an attempt to cheat Vox, Alastor offers his soul in a deal. His dealer takes offense and releases him from their contract, forcing him into the deal with Vox. This one is one-sided, wherein Vox takes what he wants and Alastor suffers for it. However, it is very well written and compelling!

Raw End of the Deal

Please be advised, this fic involves rape. Alastor's dealer has always taken a sick sort of satisfaction in using his tentacles against him. With the destruction of his microphone stand, Alastor finds himself repeatedly "encouraged" to find a way to fix it. Vox witnesses one of these moments and decides to take advantage.

A Gentle Touch

If you liked Addicted, check this fic out! It's written by the same author, dancingdog! A recently deceased Alastor is tricked into selling his soul and tasked with bringing other overlords to a mysterious bookshop. One night, he decides to go after Vox. Vox manages to impress him and escapes with his life and a burning curiosity for who the Radio Demon really is.

The Pictures Came and Broke Your Heart

After Alastor's fight with Adam, Vox seeks him out and they end up having sex. Angel catches it all on the hotel's camera feed as he battles his late night insomnia. With his new blackmail material, he demands Alastor give him all the juicy details and accidentally forces Alastor to confront his own feelings for the first time in decades.

candlelight

Heaven decides to implement a test of sorts to gauge if sinners really can change. This test is to put two well known rivals together into the same living space for an indeterminate amount of time. Vox and Alastor find themselves slipping back into old routines as they spend more time around each other.

For my friends who liked the last post, I hope this finds you!

@rae-does-stuff, @sassy-radio-hazbin-queen, @motherarts, @freakshowmemories, @bratpfanne-of-doom, @superpersonpatroleclipse , @nocakesformissedith , @coins-that-never-land , @matrixbearer2024 , @dancingafterdark ,@pedi-bug , @starlightthedaydreamer , @unnecessarilysalty , @morallygreysoul, @hazbinsillynight , @saml27 , @floral-moon-light , @therealangeldust69 , @speedyvoidthing , @glassrosepen , @monstrousvoice , @legreenorange, @thedragonforest , @mystudentclodeagle , @tarotthrawn , @imdoned, @alice-on-elm-street , @camillekarnage , @dancingthere , @spinning-all-your-silk , @lucifer-morn-666 , @mysterybooks-world , @sqwdkllr , @maskmasters , @murasakirose080 ,@cpyclopse , @likzenip , @hiddlydiddly , @phoenixdemonqueen , @alice-after-dark , @fallenemma , @pinkpoffin80-blog , @pro-crastinator14 , @marsbabysblog , @dible-png , @imma-potatoo , @that-one-fangirl123 , @ratpink , @webstertome , @tigersharktheautisticseawing , @i-want-more-coffee , @diequeeria , @frenchmacaroni , @idsrv2bleed , @flyingcheeseburgerfromvenus , @taemakesart , @av0ryx22 , @samm-w4s-hereee , @classystudentmiracleus , @realmofvoxtv , @huzoz , @queenbee5436 , @ok-average24 , @bookworm-blogs , @thesexydancingcrepe , @yurisakaki13 , @animefanboy48 , @sw5t , @lilly3683 , @hiemaldesirae , @ghosttai , @nornpai , @goodusernamepending , @sillysimplysilky , @somebody-in-this-world-who-lives , @whimsicalmacabre , @sassycandypoetry , @kamdensl , @morninvio , @twyisontheline , @tristala , @morfanerina , @achondrit3 , @yourlocalpurplelover , @mcarrefour , @enderianpearlz , @hardhideoutcollector , @motherarts , @witchtig

[batnip]

“I won’t hurt you, Artificer.” Saint said quietly. “You’ve been scarred enough.” The way his voice cloaked her in care, the sorrow tinging its edges, it… it made her believe him.  This… ancient deity, this being beyond creation that could shatter souls with a thought… cared about her.  What did that mean to her? What did that mean… about her?  [ To Find Warmth , CH 12 - IndieSnake / @indiestsnake ] A love letter to your writing. Your comments on my own fic warm my heart to read and you are such a big motivation + inspiration.

[persepinas]

iwtv fic recs?

Hello! Apologies for the wait. I have a rec list right here for you and for anyone else who wants to read high quality incredible fanfiction written by talented authors. I have read all of these fics over five times. Even the wips. 💕

Practical Ethics by @prouvaireafterdark

Bitter is the Sorrow by @lesfleursrouges

Laden as the sea by @nalyra-dreaming

Like time stands still by @lesfleursrouges

Music when the sun goes down by @mythicaltzu

Drunk on you by @dreamofme9

Bury me deep inside your heart by @prouvaireafterdark

Thrill by @lesfleursrouges

And what I thought was gone by @nalyra-dreaming

Love is patient, love is kind by @lesfleursrouges

The devil you know by @aryastark-valarmorghulis

A tailored experience by myself and @lestatthelittlelion

Anatomy of a love seen by @amc-iwtv

The most unkindest cut of all by @lesfleursrouges

The right regrets by @dreamofme9

If I cannot bend the will of heaven, I shall move hell by @aryastark-valarmorghulis

Restraint by @lesfleursrouges

Love hath a bitter taste by @prouvaireafterdark

Silk hiding skin by @nalyra-dreaming

God complex (crazy in love) by @amc-iwtv

A love like This by @lesfleursrouges

It’s a sin by @amc-iwtv

Once again I love and I do not love by @aryastark-valarmorghulis

For a kiss so fatal and so warm by @prouvaireafterdark

Carnal by glittercake

An empty hell by @lesfleursrouges

Familiar taste of poison by @amc-iwtv

Painting love with crimson flow by @prouvaireafterdark

The plans we made by @showmey0urfangs

The Splendour of Us by @lesfleursrouges

The Saint by @revolution-starter

To keep you satisfied (hold you) by @amc-iwtv

The taste of your lips by @nalyra-dreaming

Ancient wounds so deep and so dear by @prouvaireafterdark

One night of many by @lesfleursrouges

Not discuss it (fighting & fucking) by @amc-iwtv

Walking Mojo by @darkangel1791

Sore must be the storm by @louisredsuit

Days of beauty by @lesfleursrouges

Shame by @amc-iwtv

A simmering pot of resentments by @louisredsuit

Valentine Medley by @amc-iwtv

Til forever falls apart by @lesfleursrouges

The measure of a man by @louisredsuit

As the day turns to night by accideadly

The end of all things by @lesfleursrouges

Filthy/Gorgeous by Craftnarok

I’m a fool to want you by @amc-iwtv

Delicate by @lesfleursrouges

In feverish need by @fablesdelightme

The Fall by @lesfleursrouges

[lusthurts]

welcome!! <3

i thought it was about time i post a little introduction, share some things about me, and maybe keep a record of my wips and current fics in a somewhat organized way? my ao3 is getting a bit out of hand...

so hello! my name is maddie! pronouns are she/her and i'm currently 23 years old <3 you will see me yap A LOT about glee, formula 1, harry potter (the marauders specifically), baseball, and maybe some other things from time to time...i love to complain and analyze media by shouting into the void about shows from 20 years ago. i'm also a feral swiftie and read copious amounts of fanfiction. my biggest special interests at the moment are seblaine & niff, which is the inspiration for all of my fics.

note: no promises but i'm not opposed to prompts..feel free to send them in my askbox and i'll see what i can do!

my fics/wips/finished works!

find my ao3 here!

the slow burn series - a seblaine au where blaine stayed at dalton

How Bright We Burn - a retelling of season 3 where seblaine meet, become friends, then enemies, then fall in love

Brighter Than The Sun - follows seblaine through the summer between junior & senior year in ohio, paris, & saint-tropez

Until We Burn Out - a retelling of season 4 where seblaine are now dating and navigate warblers politics, competition with the new directions, and relationship troubles together (WIP)

Fragile Little Flames - jeff's retelling of the events of the series, specifically regarding his relationship with nick - not a necessary read for the series but has been one of my favorites to write (WIP)

Sequel (Title TBA) - follows seblaine and the warblers through the college years...tbd on what this will look like

one shots:

kiss you anyway - christmas smut, season 3 au, infidelity

'til the veins run red and blue - canon compliant kinda ethereal fic where seblaine drive around together after a halloween party

If We Make It Through December - holidays future fic where seblaine run into each other at the airport on the way home for the holidays

as you kneel, i'll be watching you fix me - smut based on the i want you back scene from canon

11:11 - canon compliant fic where sebastian apologizes for slushygate, probably one of my favorite things i've ever written

The Way I Loved You - exes to lovers featuring background niff where seblaine reunite and hook up at thad's wedding

Champagne Supernova - crackfic where seblaine don't remember anything that happened the night before while drunk and have to retrace their steps to figure it out

invisible string - sebastian gets cheated on and tries to drown his sorrows when he runs into blaine at the bar

Paper Thin - enemies to lovers neighbors au where seblaine live in next door apartments

slipped away like a bottle of wine - season 3 au where blaine visits dalton to celebrate the warblers sectionals win and has a long and healing talk with sebastian

multichapter fics:

yours for the weekend - a tis the damn season songfic where seblaine have a tradition of hooking up at thanksgiving when blaine returns home to ohio (WIP)

something for my soul somewhere - a music & lyrics au where songwriter blaine & washed up popstar sebastian fall in love

Something More - a post-canon future fic where songwriter blaine's daughter befriends lawyer sebastian's niece at school

For Real This Time - my first seblaine fic! not my best work but it's basically a season 4 au where blaine reconnects with sebastian post breakup with kurt

future fics/unpublished wips:

"the things i do (when i picture you)" is a smutty almost canon compliant one shot where they have phone sex

a seblaine/warblers band au

a teachers au where seblaine are both teachers who work in adjacent classrooms and all the students ship them - this is a seblaine week 2025 wip!

a ta/student au where sebastian is the ta for one of blaine's classes at nyu

an infidelity au where season 3 happens the exact same but over time blaine does cheat on kurt with sebastian

a niff future fic where they never got to be in love bc nick couldn't get his shit together

many have suggested a harry potter seblaine au, so i'm thinking about this...would probably be drarry/dramione adjacent bc i think that fits the characters best

seblaine f1 rivals to lovers au

seblaine sex workers au

below the cut, i've written a non exhaustive list of some of my favorite things! i'm happy to yap about any of this literally ever!

favorite things!

shows:

i've watched most things but am super down to talk about the above fandoms as well as degrassi, shameless, grey's anatomy, gilmore girls, how i met your mother, one tree hill, brooklyn 99, new girl, modern family, greek, the cw arrowverse, bojack horseman, stranger things, suits, freaks & geeks, outer banks, heartstopper, young royals, bridgerton, the sex lives of college girls, pretty little liars, heartbreak high, scandal, school spirits, sex education, teen wolf, the summer i turned pretty, never have i ever, ginny & georgia, squid game, 13 reasons why, euphoria, this is us, tiny pretty things, 90210, nashville, big little lies, the fosters, parks & rec, and grand army. wow that's a crazy list lol. also happy to take show recs!!

movies:

impossible to list all of them but im a big fan of rom coms, biopics, and movies that make you feel extremely strong emotions, especially if gay. current favorites include:

All of Us Strangers

Dead Poets Society

High School Musical 2

Prisoner of Azkaban

Mamma Mia!

When Harry Met Sally

Barbie

Walk the Line

books:

again, way too many to choose just one favorite but here are some i can't stop reading and rereading:

Red White & Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston

Love in the Big City by Sang Young Park

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid

I Am Not Myself These Days by Josh Kilmer-Purcell

I'm Glad My Mom Died by Jennette McCurdy

Book Lovers by Emily Henry

music:

love all these artists but i thought it'd be more fun to pick specific albums so here's that!

speak now (taylor's version) by taylor swift

melodrama by lorde

prelude to ecstasy by the last dinner party

the rise and fall of a midwest princess by chappell roan

the secret of us by gracie abrams

apocalypse whenever by bad suns

stranger in the alps by phoebe bridgers

the record by boygenius

rumours by fleetwood mac

bury me at makeout creek by mitski

superache by conan gray

emails i can't send by sabrina carpenter

stick season by noah kahan

young the giant by young the giant

the good witch by maisie peters

fuzzybrain by dayglow

being no one, going nowhere by strfkr

my head is an animal by of monsters and men

landmark by hippo campus

melophobia by cage the elephant

guts by olivia rodrigo

beginnings by girl in red

memoir of a sparklemuffin by suki waterhouse

wait by arlie

how will you know if you never try by coin

when we were friends by the backseat lovers

hot fuss by the killers

i need to stop just listing music lmao but trust i could go on forever

[whimsiquix]

Quick Fic: Saints

TOW Deva tries to drown his sorrows, Varadha looks bomb in eyeliner and there's no actual alcohol involved cause they're both losers. [2017]

“What are you drinking?” 

Deva startles knocking over his glass instantly. 

Varadha just raises an unimpressed brow before indicating toward the bartender, turning away for a moment to let Deva look.

“Nothing major.” Deva says, his throat dry as a dessert. 

Varadha shrugs. “I figured you hadn’t developed taste in the time we’ve been apart.”

“I still like you do I not?”

“Yes, it is pretty tasteless to like someone who doesn’t like you back. What’s that like?” 

“Like a live-wire through my blood every time I look at him.” 

He turns away from the bartable to face Varadha. Varadha loved having the upper hand but he’s never managed to be so much as coherent when Deva got in his space. It’s a superpower Deva has always used liberally. He curls a palm around Varadha’s thigh, yanking him closer by it. 

Varadha, predictably shivers. Swallows. 

“You stopped the seal.” His voice is low and throaty. 

Deva presses his face closer to Varadha, grazing his lips over the arrogant curve of his neck. “There was a girlfriend involved. Not that you’d know what that’s like.” 

“Girlfriend? And here you are humping my leg. Not very good is she?”

“Very boring.” Deva promises, pressing a sweet kiss to Varadha’s collarbone. “Has a ridiculous foreign accent, makes me ears bleed.” 

Varadha snorts, curving his neck away to give Deva more access. “I didn’t come here to make out with you.” He says belying his actions. Deva huffs incredulously. 

Varadha turns around to face him. “Why did you stop my seal? I’ll have to kill you now. What a hassle.” 

“Hang until death? Boring. So many other ways for you to kill me. You can take off your clothes and get on your knees for starters.” 

Varadha laughs. “Darling the day I get on my knees for you will be your funeral.” 

Deva pulls Varadha up to his height by the silver coils wrapped around his neck, “You’ll mourn me?” He murmurs against his lips.

“Everyday for the rest of my life.” 

Deva kisses him then and as always Varadha falls into him, sweet and soft in his arms. It’s easy to tongue at his jaw, run his thumb worshipfully over the delicate fan of his lashes and the play of the club lights on his features. ‘You’re so beautiful it makes me ache’ he wants to say. Swallows the words down for all they feel like thorns down his throat. “I’ll never fight you. Your judgement is absolute.” He promises instead.

Varadha blinks at him, always, always caught off guard by Deva’s devotion even though he really shouldn’t be. A moment later, he smiles, a desperately sad thing that makes Deva hurt to his bones even as he tugs at Deva’s curls, a lost look in his eyes that Deva hates to see. 

Abruptly, Varadha stands up, as though ashamed of his own vulnerability. He turns away from Deva, the sheer little number he's wearing leaving little to imagination. “You should work on your own accent.” is all he says before breaking through the throngs of milling people and disappearing into the crowd. 

In Deva’s pocket, the familiar crinkle of a flight ticket for himself, mother and now Aadhya out of the country in Kansaar Kartha’s own private jet. As is customary, Deva tears them up and throws them into his beer jug. 

[queerliblib]

Hi Queer Lib! I'm not sure if this is too specific, but do you have any recs for books written from the perspective of a bi woman of color (either fic or nonfic), especially South Asian (Indian, Pakistani, Bangladeshi, Afghanistan, etc.)? <3

hello! we do love how so many of you are asking for exactly what you want. we just have the caveats of a limited budget, publishing pool and time to answer all your reference questions!! I’m sure with a greater abundance in all these categories we could give you much longer lists 😂

however, we absolutely still have some recs;

Hani & Ishu’s Guide to Fake Dating (Hani is bi! she & her love interest are both Bengali!)

Appropriate Behavior (bi & Iranian-American)

If They Come For Us (Pakistani-American, doesn’t explicitly state labels but does explore sexuality)

Burning my Roti (bi & Indian/British)

anything by Vivek Shraya!

(to go slightly further afield there’s also Saints of Storm & Sorrow with a Bi Filipino lead)

[irondadfics]

Hi! Are there any fics that have Tony as Peter’s teacher or professor?

here are some! Happy reading!

I know who you pretend I am by Cheerios_me_lovely

Peter was a star student, with a genuine joy for learning. Tony liked him because not only was he extremely intelligent, he was also humble. Peter was sweet, and thoughtful, and overall just so much better than all of the other kids in his class. He quickly became Tony’s favourite. That was why it felt like such a punch to the gut when something horrible happened. Or: Tony is Peter's teacher and the two grow a close bond, and the man's always left heartbroken as he watches Parker Luck slowly ruin his young student's life throughout high school

This B.S. Better Be Worth It by losingmymindtonight

Originally, Tony's plan had been to just surprise Peter with the fact that he would be on campus for a semester. He’d never actually expected Peter to sign up for his class.

the ashes of a heart (that burned for what it loved) by irondadismyreligion

It's Peter Parker's freshman year at Midtown Tech. After Uncle Ben's death, and Skip, Peter doesn't know if he'll be able to cope.  Luckily, he has a slightly eccentric teacher with unconventional methods and a funny goatee that really gives a shit.  And an aunt who's practically a saint. Maybe freshman year won't be so bad?    AU - No Powers

I Promise You It's Worth It by TheOceanIsMyInkwell

The no-powers, all-feels professor and student AU of Peter and Tony that I never knew I needed until my fingers wrote it. Peter Parker is a freshman at MIT who’s struggling to find his place until the day he comes out as trans to his professor, Dr. Tony Stark. From there, he finds a fast friend and mentor in the man, who will be there for him through thick and thin–even if that means through pain, angst, joy, sorrow, jokes and tears.

More Ancient Than Magic by ironfamjam

Life isn't exactly normal when your Head of House is also kinda your father-figure and his daughter is kinda sorta your little sister.  It's also not normal when the bad guys your real-life-war-hero-not-actually-dad defeated in The Great War threaten to return and you're still just trying to finish your Charms essay.  But Professor Stark asked him to protect Morgan. And that's what he's going to do.  Even if it breaks him.    The mini Hogwarts AU

You With Me by DEMH_works

Tony Stark teaches at Hogwarts and immediately gets attached to the genius Hufflepuff that is Peter Parker. Or: Peter meets Tony after hiding in his classroom, while running from his bully Flash Thompson. He shows off his intelligence and Tony mentally adopts him on the spot.

Sickfic Two-In-One by Agib

Two sickfic drabbles in one fic! 1st: Peter is Tony Stark's biological baby with a cough. 2nd: Tony Stark is a high school teacher and Peter is in his homeroom when Mr. Stark notices the poor kid looking worn and sick.

Taught By The Best by GemPiglin

Peter gets a scholarship for Spring Valley Academy boarding school, it’s his dream school, even if it means leaving his dear aunt back home. He expects a lot from this school, lessons that can keep up with him, new friends, new enemies and new experiences but what he didn’t expect was a dad.

[thegamingcatmom]

Hi! :3

I come bringing question(s) mostly just one, I have recently started cooking something and I am debating wether I want Miri to be saved or not. Well "save her" i kind of think is a strong word bc she may be unhinged enough to have crossed the point of no return but who cares about that?

My question is, you think Miri is like evil for real? Or you think she has been manipulated by 'The Black God'? I have been reading some crazy theories and stuff so my mind is racing with million ideas mind you, kinda chaotic up there. Like she certainly is no saint, nobody in that forsaken village is but here we are, simping over all of da women, sins ain't stopping us from doing so XD

Their sins are the reason we simp for them. 😏❤️‍🔥

Right so, I know a lot of fics and theories portray Miranda as this divine being/demigod who was sent to bring Judgement or smt. For some, she is The Black God. However-

The Black God is actually the name Miranda herself chose for The Megamycete, also because it holds enough power that bringing back Eva seems entirely possible. As a result, she proclaimed herself a prophet of "The Black God" and started her cult. In other words: "Mother" Miranda was born.

So, what does that tell us?

That whole priestess persona is as much of a disguise as the Old Hag (which she uses to spy on the villagers). She has to keep her flock in check somehow, and what better way to do that than by parading as their sheperd? She´s basically a wolf in sheep´s clothing, snatching them up one by one (to experiment on them) without any of them noticing.

So, there´s no divinity involved here. Not really. Miranda draws all her power from the Megamycete aka The Fungus Root - an ancient entity that stores the genetics as well as the consciousness and memories of those it has come in contact with.

As for whether Miranda is actually evil? Hm...that depends on what you define as "evil". I like to think that there´s never just "good" or "evil". Life´s not that simple.

Like, let´s look at some of the facts here:

Miranda abducted Mia and experimented on her for (probs) multiple reasons. One of them being that she needed her DNA in order to take on her form and infiltrate the Winters household.

She played dead when Chris shot her because she knew it would be the easiest way to "rid" herself of her problems and escape with Rose into the night.

(She´s literally so cunning, I can´t-)

She unleashed the Lycans on the villagers because she had no further use for them.

But also to feed them to The Megamycete and thus, ensuring its power would be sufficient for the ceremony.

She checked the Village to make sure there weren´t any survivors left.

She killed the last one herself (Iulian).

Miranda divided Rose into several pieces. Not just to experiment with them, but also because it kept Ethan busy.

BUT HERE´S THE THING:

She gave each of the Lords one piece because she knew Ethan would kill in his quest to retrieve them.

Miranda basically used Ethan to rid herself of her "children".

She always planned on killing them.

She killed Ethan when he outlived his purpose, meaning she had no further use for him.

All of Shadows of Rose (haven´t played that one yet, but Ik Miranda is even more unhinged in this one)

Sooo, does that make her evil? Some would say yes, others would say she was driven by grief and sorrow over losing her only child. I say-

It´s complicated, lol.

No one is ever entirely "good" or "evil". It´s a mix of both and whether it leans more in either direction depends on your experiences and goals in life, as well as the minds you surround yourself with. And lots of other stuff that would take a lot more than one tumblr post to fully cover. The human psyche is a mystery, after all. 🧠🧐

I do believe no one is beyond redemption, though. Like I said, nobody is ever just evil, that´s a rather naive way to perceive the world, imo. While some certainly lean more in that direction than others, it´s not what makes them, yknow? Nobody is "born" evil, so we shouldn´t reduce them to their worst qualities. Instead, we should help them get better because that will ultimately lead to a better world. ✌️

.

.

.

Thanks a lot for your ask! 💋

[lunarthecorvus]

Inej Ghafa parent's fanfiction recommendations part of Lunar's soc fanficiton rec series

-------------------------------✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧----------------------------------

what a mother was by @cameliawrites

Wordcount: 62k Chapters: 8/8

Characters: Inej Ghafa's Mother, Inej Ghafa's Grandparents, Inej Ghafa's Aunt, Inej Ghafa's Father, Inej Ghafa, Kaz Brekker

Tags: Mother-Daughter Relationship, Motherhood, Family, Romance, Coming of Age, Prequel, Time Skips, Suli Culture & Religion, Canon Compliant, Original Character(s), Canon-Typical violence, Period Typical Racism, Sick Character, Grief/ Mourning, Attempted Sexual Assault, First Love, Implied/ Referenced Homophobia, Eating Disorders, Bittersweet, Angst, Eventual Happy Ending

Author's summary/notes: "She could recount every detail of the day she married Kolhat: the geraniums her sister had embroidered along the sleeves and hem of her dress, one of her father’s old handkerchiefs tucked into her pocket, her mother’s silk veil draped over her hair. She could recall the day she met him, when she was all of twenty years old. Inej was not yet twenty. Shanta still felt as young as all that, and she felt far older." . . . Before she was Inej’s mother, Shanta Ghafa had a mother too. or: ten years and six suitors in the life of Mama Ghafa. My summary/notes: A beautiful retrospective of Mama Ghafa's past, the life she has lived, and all she has loved and lost. Camelia is just an amazing writer and every part of this fic was beautfully written. You can feel the grief and joy of Shanta's life and it added levels and depth to her character that I never would've expected. While reading this I couldn't believe that this wasn't canon and its own book. I would kill to read this for the first time again.

---------- ☾₊ ⊹

Sankta Margaretha and Other Tales of Sorrow by @oneofthewednesdays

Wordcount: 18k Chapters: 8/8

Characters: Inej Ghafa, Inej Ghafa's Mother, Inej Ghafa's Father, Kaz Brekker, Jesper Fahey, Wylan Van Eck

Tags: Post-Book 2: Crooked Kingdom, Hurt/Comfort, Family, Angst, Implied/ Reference Rape/ Non-con, Canon Typical Violence, Graphic Description of Corpses

Author's summary/notes: When his daughter was stolen from beneath his nose on the outskirts of Os Kervo, Samir Ghafa lost his faith in the saints. After a letter arrives bearing the insignia of the Lantsov double-eagle, he finds his hope rekindled. But when he learns of the demon of Ketterdam, he begins to fear once more… My summary/ notes: I'm not sure how to write this without directly spoiling it.. but a certain opinion Inej's father has about someone is surprisingly uncommonly found in fics and its so interesting to read how the opinion is formed and how Samir acts because of it. Then consequently how the others act and feel because of Samir's actions. (I was laughing my ass off while writing this so vaguely)

---------- ☾₊ ⊹

Ten Minutes in the Life of a Pear by @oneofthewednesdays

Wordcount: 8.9k Chapters: 4/4

Characters: Inej Ghafa, Inej Ghafa's Mother, Inej Ghafa's Father, Kaz Brekker, Asha, Hanzi

Tags: Panic Attacks, Healing, Implied/ Reference Rape/Non-con, Canon backstory, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Post-Canon

Authors summary: Four glimpses into breakfast, lunch, dinner, and dessert with the Ghafa Family. My summary/ notes: A heartwarming fic reflecting on the pain and the way relationships both platonic and romantic can develop and grow throughout the different points in life.

---------- ☾₊ ⊹

Runs in the family by DopamineAddict

Wordcount: 99k Chapters: 16/18 (hasn't been updated since march)

Characters: Inej Ghafa, Kaz Brekker, Inej Ghafa's Mother, Inej Ghafa's father, Wylan Van Eck, Jesper Fahey. Tante Heleen, Specht, Roeder, Anika

Tags: Revenge, Family Reunions, Canon-Typical violence, Coming of Age, Inej Ghafa needs a hug, Past Rape/ non con, Post-Book 2: Crooked Kingdom, Kaz is scared of Inej's parents he knows hunger for revenge when he sees it, the Ghafa's might be a bit non canon but we only see them from Inej's pov in canon so..

Author's summary/notes: As the Ketterdam harbour grows closer, Priya and Devnand Ghafa steel themselves for the truth of whatever their daughter had been through over the past two years. And for what they might do about it. My summary/notes: Priya and Devnand meet their daughter again after years, they learn about her and what's she's been doing, but the other question that will be answered is what have they been up to since Inej has been taken. (This fic is just incredible, it changed how I saw her parents)

[sir-nonsurat]

A little fun fact about my AU here since AU Posting is busy.

You know that in several art pieces, I used Film Tape symbolism? My AU, basically can be interpreted as a theater play, in which the outcome is always a bad ending.

In context, Cosmounse made the script that way, and Fylass wants to rewrite the part of the script that's not written yet, based on countless other scripts he managed to see in back stage (Note, this is not literal, just an interpretation of certain outcomes based on that idea since the AU was partly written with that interpretation in mind, that's why in my fic, the names of the chapters are from other stories or plays).

Which for it, means that Fylass helped in changing the ending, with the help of the others, reason on why some parts of my AU seem to be very fitting in the context of a play. I made jokes about Fylass "Undooming the Doomed narrative" but it's not really that much of a joke, which pretty much implies that if no one had done anything or be made aware of what was happening, my AU would've always ended up in a hypothetical Bad Ending.

Besides the religious take on it that's basically what happened in the Garden of Eden with Fylass being Lucifer, and Adam and Eve being the ones he loves. The Apple is the "Forbidden Knowledge" so in this context is basically The Truth and yet another reason why Fylass' main color is Red.

It kinda goes along with the lines of Fylass hating Magolor! Just that in Magolor's case, He's both Jesus and Judas, but in Fylass' case, God and the Devil are one and the same, since at the end of the day, you can figure out he has both roles. Fylass did bring down the Pardus Clan with him, like how Lucifer brought down Adam and Eve, but also in Popstar he tries to take the role of a messiah figure to save 4 people, also why Crowned Fylass both takes inspiration from the bible and pagan holidays, with the main one being Walpurgisnacht (Witches Night).

Also for more parallels, Walpurgisnacht was a celebration for the person "Saint Walpurga" who seemingly kept the witches away from the masses and healed the sick, not too dissimilar from how Fylass behaves with the Dream Team and Wave Three. And last but not least, it was rumored that Saint Walpurga was a witch herself, and the reason why Fy is a basilisk, which are creatures that are kings of serpents, fire, and usually come from Hell.

Now Niru

Niru, for the ones that don't know, is Void Termina when Kirby was still part of him, being the body that surrounds Void's Soul. He is often associated with Water, but specifically fluids in general, since he's meant to be something that flows as time passes. He gave impurities and some darkness to his creations to truly enforce free will, but overall, he was sad seeing his creations be sad over these things and knowing that if they believe in god, they would be begging for them to cleanse their sorrows, so at one point, he regretted his decision and started to slowly consume those impurities himself, being something like, carry the burden of others upon himself, but eventually this made him lose himself in corruption and became Void Termina.

Before he was sealed though a part that wasn't corrupted by the Darkness was separated from him and became Kirby, while the Darkness that got loose in battle became 0, who can reincarnate constantly thanks to Niru's impurities.

At the end of the AU, both parts reunite, and Kirby swears that he, along with the others will help him carry the burden and cleanse him of his Impurities, something they achieve.

In terms of Motifs, if Fylass' motifs are religious, Niru's are Cosmic.

Normally, when a Star gathers insane amounts of energy, they explode and become supernovas, a thing that parallels Niru but instead of Exploding, he gets consumed by a Black Hole he did himself.

Also the fact that he's based on Owls, being Night Birds, and Lovecraftian Entities, specially Cthulhu, who belong to Cosmic Horror.

He also shares a motif with time and a play along with Fylass and Cosmounse

If Fylass is the Pendulum and the script writer, and Cosmounse is the hands and the Director, Niru is the Hours and the Play itself, or rather, he's the End Roll.

Also he's based on The Happy Prince