#first impressions are SO important and this is what you chose to do

[wthub-locaaa]

It’s easy.

Garrick Tavis x reader

Authors Note: Heyyyy!!! this is the very first thing I’ve ever written… Like ever ever. I’m super in my Garrick feels rn and it is criminal how little stuff is written about my man! So I wrote this really quick bc I needed this in my life. Sorry if this is shit I literally don’t know what I’m doing lollll. K thanks byeeeee!!!

*** Character relationships are as follows is the Fourth Wing books. y/n relationship w/ Garrick is pre established. Garrick and y/n are in the same type of dragon mated bond as Xaden and Violet. Reader is in same year as Violet.

TAKES PLACE DURING IRON FLAME AND MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS TO FIRST TWO BOOKS (sry not sry🤍)

Warnings: Fluff fluffy fluff Garrick, Suggestive content literally once, Oren being a gross man

Word Count: 3k

——————————————————————————

It’s easy, how Garrick and I work. Sadly, our life got a little bit more difficult when Garrick graduated. But we knew it would be okay. I could have never imagined ending up with such an amazing, loving man.

Of course he is still rough, and mean on the outside. The sweet, soft side of him is reserved for me and me only. I had the biggest crush on him when first year started. Of course there were more important things to think about, like surviving, but at threshing I got lucky enough to bond with Ailís. She is a large, Green swordtail dragon who is mated to Chradh, Garrick’s dragon.

After threshing, Garrick made it his life mission to train me and keep me alive for the obvious reasons, but he quickly learned that I was already a pretty good fighter. Quick and skilled in hand to hand combat. My use of a dagger could use some work, but my skills with a sword are pretty impressive if I do say so myself.

After many late nights in the sparring gym and talking through our bond, we grew closer and closer and feelings grew stronger and eventually we became a public couple. Even if it was due to him professing his love to me during a rather uncomfortable situation.

_____________________________________________

I was sitting in the cafeteria enjoying my breakfast surrounded by my circle of friends.

“I cannot believe that you both bonded to dragons that are mated. Like it’s a bit weird..” said Ridoc.

“Oh for the love of gods, would you please leave them alone, it’s not like we get to pick what dragon bonds to us, Ridoc” said Rhiannon, ever the reason in our circle of friends.

“Yeah, Ridoc. We thought Riorson wanted to kill Violet, so you really think she would have willingly choosen Tairn if she knew who he was mated to? It’s almost like they chose us” I said, laughing as I finished up my breakfast.

“Oh, like it hasn’t all worked out just how you planned. Tell me what do you and Mr. Tavis REALLY get up to during those late nights sparring sessions” Ridoc quipped back mockingly kissing the air.

“Oh get a grip Gamlyn” I throw my napkin at his head and I steal a glance toward the leadership table to see Garrick already looking at me with a smirk as if he could hear our conversation.

“what are you smirking for Tavis?” I ask through our bond.

“oh nothing, just enjoying the memories of last night. Tell Gamlyn I said thanks for the reminder” Garrick replied back.

I scoff back, smiling as the memories come rushing back to me. Sadly, my peace was all too quickly interrupted by none other than Oren. I really wish Violet would have just killed him at threshing.

Oren walked right up to our table and the conversation quickly died and we all stared at him like he grew wings.

“And i thought this day couldn’t get any worse.” mumbled Ridoc as he dramaticaly slammed his head on the table to ignore any bullshit that Oren will say.

“I saw your challenge with Kai yesterday L/N, you’re looking strong out there on the mat.” Oren said with that disgusting smile on his face. Staring at me like he’s trying to look through my riders leathers.

“Thanks I guess.” I say as I try not to shift in my seat to show how uncomfortable his presence made me. I can feel Garrick staring all the way from the leadership table, as I glance around Oren’s head I can safely say that if looks could kill, Oren would be dead.

“You should really come train with me sometime, ya know I can show you some moves that they don’t teach us” he said as he blatantly looks at my tits.

“I think I would rather eat dragon shit, but thanks for the offer!” I say in a sarcastic, high pitch. Violet stifles a laugh next to me.

“Like you would ever be able to give her advice, we all know she is one of the strongest fighters on our year.” Says Rhiannon.

As if you could see the frustration bloom from his neck, his face turns an angry red at the rejection and covered laughter that is coming from our peers who are overhearing the conversation at hand. Right as he opens his mouth to shout something back at me he is quickly cut off-

“Why don’t you quit embarrassing yourself and go back to you seat Oren, she already has the best teacher she can get. And I would greatly appreciate it if you would stop looking at what is mine.”

Oh shit, he just said that.

Color quickly drains from Oren’s face as he turns around to face the broad chest of Garrick.

“Yours, just because you two have mated dragons does not mean she is yours” he says back, trying to sound more confident than he looks.

“It’s not because our dragons are mated you idiot, She. Is. Mine. My girl, the woman I love. Did I get it through your head yet? My girlfriend, not yours, not anyone else’s, mine. And If you don’t stop looking at her like she’s your next meal then-“ Garrick lowers his head next to Oren’s ear to whisper something. Surely threatening him to not approach me again and promising very bad things if he does.

Oren turns and runs out. “I think that is the fastest I’ve ever seen him run.” Liam laughs out.

“So I’m your girl” I say looking directly in Garricks beautiful Hazel eyes.

“Well, of course. Wouldn’t have it any other way beautiful.” He says and I turn to mush.

“Oh my gods, would you two find a room before I throw up all over my breakfast.” Ridoc says.

I take a quick look around, forgetting we are in the middle of the cafeteria with literally everyone watching this scene unfold. Rhiannon and Violet have knowing looks on their faces like they’ve been waiting for this public confirmation of our relationship.

Garrick realizes we have everyone’s attention and quickly recovers. “C’mon, lets go.” He says through the bond and nods towards to door and I get up and follow him out.

_____________________________________________

Thankfully, when he graduated, Garrick got placed at the same outpost in Samara as Xaden. Those boys have been attached at the hip since they were young and I couldn’t imagine them ever getting separated. Luckily for me, this also means that I get to take a little getaway with my best friend Violet every other week so our dragons can have their time together.

It was hard adjusting at the beginning, but now that we are over two months into this arrangement we have settled into a routine. Sometimes not even getting one whole day together is the worst so I try my hardest to get out of Basgiath as quickly as I can when it is my weekend to travel with Ailis to Samara. And that is where I am now.

Sitting in battle brief, Sawyer has already elbowed me twice to quit bouncing my leg, but I can help it. I am so ready to get out of here and see Him. Sometimes these weeks away from each other can feel like forever. I spend majority of this class staring at the clock. As soon as we get dismissed I am running to Violet and dragging her out of the classroom.

“Ow, ow would you calm down? what is going on?” Violet yells trying to get me to slow down. But slowing down would mean wasting time.

“Listen, I’m low-key dying to see Garrick and I know you miss Xaden too, whether or not you two are in the middle of a fight. But classes are done, so lets get out of here and go see our boys!” I say practically dragging her with me to our dorm rooms.

“We can’t go, we don’t have leave until tomorrow, and you know half of the professors are looking for any reason to punish me.” She says

“Listen, Ailís wants to see Chradh and I know Tairn wants to be with Sgaeyl. If any of the professors have an issue with us leaving AFTER classes are done for the week, tell them to take it up with our dragons. Ailís has told me many times, as I’m sure Tairn has also told you, that dragons do as they please and do not respond to humans.” I say trying to convince her.

I can tell she is in conversation with Tairn. “Plus it’s a long flight and both Xaden and Garrick will be on patrol when we arrive. I would personally like to get the flight out of the way so I can get a good nights sleep and wake up to a bed with Garrick in it.” I try my hardest to convince her how amazing this sounds.

“Alright, fine. Let me go get my stuff packed. We have to be quick before Varrish finds out and comes to stop me.” Violet says.

“I’m already packed, I thought about this last night. I’ll come help you, and we can get out of this place!” I say, happy that she is on my side in this. An eight hour flight on my own would have been so boring.

We race up to her room and Violet pulls me through the wards on her door. We quickly pack the necessities and I rush across the hall to my room to grab my already packed rucksack, and we are off. Running like a bats out of hell, we race to the flight field, trying to avoid any and all people of authority to keep us from getting stopped on our mission.

We make it to our dragons just in time. I scale up Ailís’ leg and get in my seat in record time and we are off. I start laughing at how crazy giddy I feel thinking how in less than 8 hours I will be in Samara with access to my bond with Garrick again.

—————————

We arrive in Samara with time to spare, my guess is the dragons missed their mates just as much as I missed Him. I reach out to the familiar hum of my bond with Garrick and I feel the confusion coming from him.

“What’s going on, how are you close enough for me to feel you?” He said through the bond, clearly at a loss for words.

“I flew in silly” I responded.

“But you weren’t due in until tomorrow?” He questioned.

“I know, but Ailís wanted to see Chradh and I really missed you this week so we left after classes got done. I brought Violet with me. I know you’re on patrol and it’s late so I’m just going to drop my stuff off in your room, get a shower, and go to bed. I’m tired.”

“Sounds good honey. I’m so happy you’re here. I missed you.” He says, I can feel the happiness through our bond.

“I missed you too my love. Now focus on patrol and come find me once you’re done working.”

“Of course. Sleep tight darling”

I walked with Violet through the outpost to the dorms where the boys rooms are. Conveniently placed two doors down from the other.

“I’m going to head bed, I’m sure I’ll see you tomorrow yeah?” I asked Violet, each word coming out quieter than the last. As it hits me just how exhausted I am.

“Yeah, I’ll see you around at some point tomorrow. Do you know how Xaden knew I was here? He usually partially blocks me out during patrol. He says he doesn’t want to get distracted.” She asks.

“I’m sure he felt your bond get clearer, but I already told Garrick everything and I’m sure her relayed the message to Xaden that we were both here and safe.” I say back leaning on Garrick’s door.

“Oh, okay.” She says like she has a lot on her mind.

“Hey I know it’s late, but if you need to talk to me about it, I’m always here for you. You know that right?” I tell her.

“Yeah I know. I sometimes wish Xaden and my relationship could be like yours and Garrick’s. There is just so much secrecy between us right now it can be exhausting and you guys make it look so easy.” She says.

“Oh honey, Xaden is complicated, he is trying his hardest to keep you safe. It takes time, but I promise you that your relationship can be easy too. I just try to remember Garrick has his secrets for a reason and I’m an open book. He would figure out mine before I knew them. It gets easier, I just trust that what he keeps from me, he does it for a reason. And if he needs to tell me he will. I trust him, there is a lot going on outside of Basgiath and I don’t need to know every little thing. As long as he is safe and comes home in one piece, that’s all I care about at the end of the day.” I say

Violets listens, giving me a little “mhm” after I finish speaking like she is mulling over my words in her head. I walk over and give her a hug. “I promise it will get easier, just give him a little time. Get some sleep, it’s super late. The boys should be off patrol by 5 a.m.” I tell her.

She nods and goes into Xaden’s room.

I turn around and unlock Garrick’s door with my lesser magic.

I quickly drop my rucksack in the corner and walk into his bathroom. I get undressed and step into the shower to wash the grime of the flight off of my skin. I step out and towel off, walking back into his room. It’s so late. I look at the clock that is sitting on his desk. 3:09 a.m it reads, at least he’ll be done with parol soon.

I rummage through what I packed in my bag to find that I didn’t pack any pajamas in my haste to get here. I walk over to his armoire to see if I can steal a shirt for the next few nights I will spend with him. I’m sure he won’t mind. I quickly grab the first undershirt I find and throw it on. It is big on me, hanging down to mid thigh, I don’t even bother finding bottoms.

Wearing his clothes definitely doesn’t help the longing that is clawing at my heart. “Less than 2 hours.” I mumble to myself to keep my spirits up. I pull back the covers on his bed and slip into my designated side. Overwhelmed by my senses, everything smells like Garrick. His shirt that I’m wearing, his sheets, his blankets, his pillow. It’s all Garrick.

My emotions heightened from exhaustion, I silently let a few tears drop from my eyes. I do not wipe them away, but enjoy the feeling of them falling down the mounds of my cheeks. Back at Basgiath, it’s not often that cadets are allowed to feel our emotions, it makes you look weak, so it is nice to let myself feel for the first time in months.

I close my eyes, taking long, deep breaths. In. Out. In. Out.

The next thing I know I hear a familiar rustle of the door handle and soft feet padding along the floor. I feel the bed dip as someone sits down. Not just anyone of course, but Him.

“Garrick” I croak out.

“Shh, you need to rest sweet girl, you’ve had a very long day.” He replies in a soft, smooth voice that he reserves just for me.

“I’ve missed you so so much” I say, feeling a boulder lodged in my throat as my emotions rise again as he lifts off of the bed, putting his weapons in their respective places.

“I know, I’ve missed you too. You gave me quite a nice surprise by arriving early, not that I’m complaining. I always sleep better when you’re in my arms.” He says as he takes off the clothes he was wearing on patrol and walks over to the bed in his boxers.

Garrick pulls back the covers to climb into bed, “stealing my clothes now, eh?” He says with a playful, yet tired tone. “Forgot my pajamas in my dorm, I was to focused on getting here.” I said with a yawn. Each blink getting heavier and heavier.

“I don’t mind, you wear it better than me anyway” He pulls the covers over us and grabs me by the waist pulling me impossibly close to his chest. He is laying on his back as I lean on his chest listening to the lull of his heartbeat.

“I could spend forever like this.” I say.

“And forever is what you shall receive my beautiful. Anything you need I will do my hardest to give it to you. No one has ever loved anyone as much as I love you.” He says as if we have eternity to spend in each others arms.

“Damn I would try to find something equally romantic to respond, but my brain isn’t working at the moment.” I say, overcome with love and warmth and sleep.

Garrick lets out a breathy laugh as we lay entangled in each others arms, legs intertwined, totally content. “Sleep tight my beautiful, I will be with you when you wake.” He says lowering his head to press a light kiss to my lips. Running his fingers through my hair, then tracing the curves of my nose to my eyebrows, and down running his thumb across my lips. He continues this motion for a while before my breaths even as I fall into the most peaceful sleep I’ve had all week. Sleep follows him not long after me. And as a man true to his word, we are still wrapped in each others embrace when I wake.

[rachetmath]

Remnant Sucks

Deidamia(SOD): Speak human. What do you wish to be destroyed?

Juane All the Grimm.

Deidamia(SOD): Huh.

Jaune: Yes. All the Grimm. Wiped. Destroyed. Cleared off the map. Is there a problem?

Deidamia (SOD): No. In fact I am impressed you would choose that and wonder why.

Jaune: Grimm are deadly creatures. They adapt quickly. And they shouldn't be a problem but-

Deidamia (SOD): Humans?

Jaune: Humans. Absolutely. Like we kind of are the problem.

Ruby: Jaune how can -

Jaune: Ruby a woman- a human woman decided to go against Gods. GODS. Just to get one man back. That led to her being immortal. She then persuaded thousands of warriors. Hunters of the past. Our predecessors to fight off said gods again just because she didn't like what they did to her. All that death by one woman!

Ruby: Um.

Jaune: Then when said man came back into her life, and he saw the monster she became she killed him and probably her daughters. And that was the beginning.

Ruby: …

Jaune: But let's be honest with ourselves, The Grimm only strike when they sense negative emotions. Why is that?

Yang: Who cares why? They're just monsters.

Jaune: You mean the same monsters who knows when to avoid conflict. Can gain enough intelligence to almost become sentient. And the more they learn they become effective killers. I don't think ‘monsters’ are enough words to describe them.

Yang: …

Jaune: And we know why. We are just Creation's creations, we know no longer have anything to do with Destruction. Meaning?

Weiss: Meaning the Grimm are only following the purpose they were made for before our predecessors were born.

Jaune: Which is killing whatever Creation makes.

Ren: And I mean we earn it sometimes and I can't blame them for how fragile the world is.

Blake: I mean -

Ren: Blake before Faunuses we already were divided. And not just by race.

Jaune: Even to this day we have issues and we solve it with mostly violence. Basically the Grimm are just trying to prevent the world from ending again. Or because they were here first and we just started taking shit.

Ruby: Okay I see your point. Once we get rid of the Grimm the world will be at peace.

Nora: Naive child.

Deidamia(SOD): Ignorance.

Ruby: What?

Oscar: Ruby you know once the Grimm are gone there might not be any use for hunters.

Ruby: Not true we can still hold the peace.

Jaune: Yeah, too bad semblances can divide us.

Nora: Like Ruby compared to the average humans, we might as well be freaks. And even if we try, not everyone gets a semblance. Hell a majority of people barely have aura.

Ruby: Damn.

Jaune: And to be more honest, we failed to do our jobs. Like Hazel's sister died because of a teacher's negligence. Cinder turned out the way she is because of poor conditions and no one helped her. We saw hunters who not only failed at their jobs but attempted to sleep with either one of you girls even though they were tasked with guarding a train.

Weiss: Okay besides those amateurs-

Jaune: Those were pros.

Weiss: Who we don't know.

Jaune: So who do we know as failures? Okay, Qrow is a failure. Not because of his semblance but his choices. Man is a damn idiot. He allowed a fall maiden to be on the brink of death and got Clover killed. Why do you think Maria is better than him? James halted the world to make a new tower, only to abandon that idea when Salem arrived. I say his plan was good but our priorities weren’t in order. Like Tyrian, Salem’s minion wasn’t important but Robyn's dumbass Hill was. Why? And Lion sold us out to save his own ass. And who chose them? Ozpin! And don't get started on Goodwitch.

Oobleck: Mr. Arc-

Jaune: Shut the hell up Luigi.

Oscar: He’s not wrong.

Jaune: Basically Ruby we might as well retire cause at the rate we’re going we might as well be the next upcoming villains.

Ruby: F*** you.

Jaune: F*** your mom. Who also died for nothing. Like Pyrrha. At least Penny died saving people.

Blake: Come on guys we-

Nora: Blake, Harriet almost killed thousands of people under Jame’s orders. Hell we almost did that ourselves, remember? Argus? Pyrrha’s home town?

Ren: And Atlas we had way more to do with the situation. Considering we were following team RWBY’s lead.

Yang: Now wait a minute Nora and Ren, we did that for good reasons.

Ren: No, we did that because Weiss was too scared to go home by herself. Or because for some reason a woman is more understandable while a man is just a destructive creature.

Jaune: Again even though said woman is the reason the world ended before.

Oscar: Not to mention we have Emerald. Out of everyone we could have chosen, we chose Cinder's bottom bitch. That's how low we went. No offense.

Emerald: Non taken?

Ruby: Okay. Um. Um-

Jaune: Ruby, let's be honest here. The Grimm are minor compared to our species. Like we have so many isms in our vocabulary it might as well be a disease name in itself for how it affects the minds of humanity.

Weiss: But Jaune -

Jaune: Shut up hell up Atlasian I already got deal with you entitled mother fuckers enough. Especially Mantle, the only mother fuckers worth were the Faunus. And I put that on Adam Taurus.

Adam: *in hell* Finally one human gets it.

Weiss: We're not-

Jaune: James. The Ace-op. And Cordovin. Need I say more.

Deidamia(SOD): He's not wrong. You humans might well be your own worst enemies. Like all you are just… … ew.

Jaune: I know right. We might as well take each other out. It's that simple. I'm just delaying the impossible.

Deidamia(SOD): And with that note being said I will grant you your wish Jaune Arc. Also you-

Jaune: Ozpin told me ahead of time. I will take my chances.

Deidamia(SOD): Good. Bout damn time he did something useful. Considering he had options.

Jaune: Don't get me started.

[egophiliac]

the poopman is here

(also Rita continues to be the biggest mood)

[imflyingfish]

Fish you are so good at building to me your the Bdubs of people I know

Pheo ;w; ty

[ambrosiagourmet]

I want to talk about why I think this is the one of the most important Falin panels:

So, Falin is really nice, right? It's one of the first things we really learn about her. She's kind even to the monsters of the dungeon - choosing to ward the party rather than fight spirits and cause them needless harm.

In the above early flashback in chapter 11, we see Marcille fawning over Falin's kindness, calling her an angel. Namari calls her soft-hearted. We see Falin choose not to fight even when a zombie attacks - instead she resolves the confrontation with a hug. After the flashback, the first thing Senshi says is that Falin "sounds like quite the person," which Marcille strongly affirms.

At this point in the story, all we have seen of Falin are these impressions; she is a healer, an angel, a caretaker with an infinite well of kindness towards everyone she meets - both friend and foe.

And honestly, that remains most of what we have to go by to understand her. The only times we get to see Falin on the page, alive and just herself, are in the opening and closing pages of the story and in the brief period of time after she is resurrected.

Nonetheless, we do have some more details to work with. For one, there is the scene that The Panel is from - a short memory in chapter 75, when Marcille flashes back to while she's dying. In that scene, Falin prepares to teleport them all out, and says that she's sorry "if there is a person at [their] destination." And that's when we get The Panel.

If you teleport someone or something into another person, the person teleported into is likely to be, at minimum, severely injured. They could die.

We can see a lovely little horrifying example of exactly why in one of the Daydream Hour doodles:

So, hmm. That's not... that's not SUPER nice. Certainly not displaying the same "kindness to all, friend and foe included" we saw represented earlier. On a basic level, this adds some nuance to Falin's kindness. We see it break a little, when pushed to the limit. We see her chose to protect the people she loves above all else.

Which makes sense! As Laios says when the Winged Lion accuses him of similarly being motivated more by his friends' safety than everyone else in the dungeon, "...most people, aside from virtuous do-gooders, would feel the same way."

So, we can take The Panel as simply showing a moment of weakness for Falin. A time when she was pushed to her limits, and that "most people" selfish side of her shone through.

However... I think there's a little more going on with Falin than just her being an angel 99% of the time, except just that once. I love The Panel because I think it helps us understand that Falin isn't just motivated by kindness - she also has a desire to avoid seeing people in pain.

Isn't that the same thing?

No, no it very much is not.

Let's look at a short comic from the Falin section of the Adventurer's Bible, because I think it illustrates this point perfectly. The group is complaining about how much Marcille's healing hurts, and comparing it to Falin's, which "doesn't hurt a bit." Marcille retorts with the following:

Now, the punchline of this comic is that, despite Marcille's sentimental assertion that she's "thinking of [them]" by letting her healing magic hurt, they all still prefer to be healed by Falin.

But hey, this wouldn't be the first time that Dungeon Meshi hides a very real character beat or insight in a gag, so let's think about this somewhat seriously.

If Marcille is right (and she knows a fair bit about magic, so we can assume that she has at least somewhat of a point), then what Falin is doing isn't kind. I suppose if someone specifically requested to not feel the pain, it could be kind, but that's not really what happened here. She is the one who felt badly about the others being in pain, and she is the one who decided, without telling them or giving them a choice in the matter, to take away that pain.

Both Marcille and Falin are healing the party, but Marcille is doing it in a way that accomplishes the task in the most straight forward way, without any additional interference. Falin is going out of her way to perform the healing in a way she is more comfortable with. A way that avoids pain.

Going back the The Panel, I don't think its a coincidence that the only time we see Falin (well, non-chimera Falin) willing to do something that could hurt someone is when any potential pain will be far away from her. If she got someone hurt or killed by teleporting the party to the surface? Not only would it be far out of her sight, but she'd be dead before she had to deal with any consequences of that action.

Falin is not a confrontational person. She doesn't push when Marcille won't tell her the truth about the resurrection, and she comforts Laios about her own death - both of those things happening in the only full chapter she is alive and conscious in the whole story.

We also know that she considered accepting Shuro's proposal, despite not having any special feelings towards him, and that Falin never explained to Marcille that she wanted them to share a meal together. When she brought Marcille various foods at the academy, she just accepted Marcille's confused rejection and gave up.

And lastly, we know that she is still in contact with her parents, despite the neglect and abuse she suffered at their hands. Although the way someone chooses to handle contact with abusive or bad family is a complicated topic, which I don't want to overly simplify, I do I think this fact gets at the heart of how she handles conflict.

So many people that Falin loves have hurt her. There are understandable hurts, like Laios leaving the village, or Marcille not understanding the food. And there are bigger, far less justifiable hurts - like her parents neglecting her throughout her childhood, and sending her away to be alone at the magic academy.

It doesn't seem like Falin has ever confronted any of it directly.

And the unhealthy aspects of this kind of avoidance of pain and confrontation is one of the things that the story of Dungeon Meshi is all about. We see Laios grapple with it before he goes to kill Falin, and we see Marcille acknowledge it at the end of the story, when she tells Laios that she has come to terms with Falin's death:

Eating is a part of life. Consuming other living things is a part of life. It isn't really possible to avoid that pain - you can only hide from the truth of it. You have to be selfish everyday. You have to eat - to choose to live. To choose to take up space.

And this is something Falin embraces, too. She comes back to life, after all.

We see her choose to come back to life.

And how does she make that choice? She eats. She consumes, and then she is asked a question by the manifestation of hunger itself:

Do you want to eat more?

There is a double meaning in the Winged Lion's final words on the next page.

When I first read this, I took it as him saying: life is cruel. You will suffer. You will feel more pain.

But perhaps, especially for Falin, this also means: you are choosing a path where you must cause pain. Where you must consume. Where you must take, and must be selfish. Because eating is the special privilege of the living, and it is their burden, too. In order to stay alive, she will need to keep eating.

And she chooses that. Chooses to be selfish. It's why her resurrection scene is so important, and it's why The Panel is so important. Because Falin coming back isn't the ultimate reward for all of the party's hard work.

It's her choice. Just like it was her choice that started everything in the first place. But this time, she doesn't choose to accept causing pain for the sake of Marcille and Laios. She does it for her own sake.

[fxrheisenn]

Andrus Laansalu talked about making Disco Elysium at EKA (Estonian Academy of Arts)

"Initially, the church wasn't a focal point. There were certain characters that needed to visit this location, and I asked, "Seriously, what do we have in our church?" The others replied, "Nothing at all. Our church is completely bare—just a wheel, really. It's quite basic."

That's when I decided to unleash my creativity in the design. For example, they chose to install a glass structure at the top of the church to create a reflective surface. It was like placing an optical clock up there. Therefore, one of the most crucial aspects of designing the church was ensuring the lighting was just right to create the desired atmosphere."

"Let me show you an example of Baroque architecture, which is rich in detail. We're also designing the interior of the church based on large cathedrals. However, the foundation you use might not yield the expected results, because the church itself doesn't require such intricate details. Sometimes, it's about simplifying the design."

"I used Articy for the initial scriptwriting of Disco Elysium. The image only represents a tiny fraction of the text and choice variables involved. This system was also the reason I eventually abandoned the project after a year of outlining the script and shifted my focus to becoming a sound designer. My mind struggled to keep up with the dynamic graphic rules, but fortunately, a more talented writer took over afterward."

"In terms of sound design, it's essential to develop different layers to bring out the charm of the church as a cohesive space. Although this represents only a small portion of the overall design, each layer actually requires a significant amount of time to compose the whole....... Whenever there's a shift or a change due to the dialogue itself, you need to adjust the background sounds. Each time you modify the details in the dialogue, I have to refine the background audio, ensuring that these elements build upon each other like an intricate layer of work."

"It's funny how many scenes involve characters getting smacked in the face. My job was to recreate those, so I locked myself in the bathroom with a recorder and hit my forehead until it turned red.

As a sound designer, I really dig those unsettling, drill-like sounds. So, I mixed in creepy lectures, metal scraping, moans, and cries of pain—because I just love that stuff! (laughs)

Players will be moving through all kinds of areas, so it's super important to make the sound transitions feel natural, trying to create a more immersive vibe in certain spaces.

With all the scenes featuring big cranes, you can hear them from far away, and I wanted to capture that eerie ringing in your ears. That's going to be a thing throughout most of the game. I've found ways to really mess with players while they're playing!"

"I've come across a lot of old objects (like phones and radios) that I needed to perfectly replicate the sounds. I started to become a bit of a hoarder, buying up different models of old phones whenever I found one to add to my collection. The sound effects I can simulate from them are really impressive."

"Some of the devices don't actually exist in real life—just a mix of architecture and tech. When I need to create sound effects, I first look for something similar that exists in our world, then I try to simulate what the sound and appearance of that thing might have been like a century ago.

Towards the end of the game, there's a character carrying a fuel canister. We needed the sound of the canister, so we dug one up from our garage—it had been sitting there since it was five! I realized this would make the sound perfect. So, it had been there for 50 years, and after 40 years, it finally found its purpose.

In some places, I needed unique sound waves, and recreating them was a real headache until one day I happened to walk by a swimming pool and stumbled upon an old wartime torpedo. You can rotate the torpedo's probe, and it slowly rises up, like a proud zombie head. The sounds it made were exactly what I needed!"

🙋How did you manage to get funding?

"Well, since we're in Estonia, you just need to know a wealthy person. You don't need five people—just two who can network, hang out together, and convince them to keep investing! (laughs) Back then, we constantly ran out of money and would tell them, 'Oops, looks like we spent it all! Can you invest a bit more?' That's how we made it through!"

🙋How did you all come together to make the game?

"Luck. It usually doesn't happen this way, and that's the key difference. It has to be. If not, you couldn't create a game of this scale - well, I mean in terms of budget. But creatively, Estonia definitely has writers and artists who can pull it off. With such a small population, there are a lot of quirky folks who are good friends. We were really lucky, though - lots of fortunate circumstances came together. It brought the right people together, allowing those talented fools to collaborate with us. They had experience but hadn't tackled projects of this magnitude before. So yeah, luck is pretty important!"

Lecture experience shared by 白兔YIYANG SUN on 小红书, reposted & translated by me with her permission.

[timmydraker]

Tim Drakes parents were very traditional and overly proud of the fact that they came from old money.

They boasted about this in many ways for several years, but once their son was born they decided they would use him as a prime example of how they would continue the old ways they learnt.

Tim learnt things like piano and proper dinner etiquette before he was four, and learnt old Latin and French as a means to showcase his wealth and knowledge. They made him learn many things and luckily he enjoyed most of them, especially when it came to STEM and reading.

They also valued the arts and wanted him to learn as much as he could about architecture and literature.

When he showcased some knowledge for waltz and ballroom dancing, they decided he should do dance lessons.

This is where Tim discovered Ballet and fell deeply in love with the artistic and passionate form of dance. He began to study it around the same time he grew an interest in Batman, though he had yet to try get photos of the man.

Tim talked to his instructor and asked the older man about male dancers in Ballet and Mr Volkov was more that happy to help. Tim’s parents weren’t very in tuned with their son by that point and only cared that he was attending classes that were traditional, so they payed no mind to him learning ballet.

The skills he learnt regarding balance and core strength was greatly appreciated when he began to stalk Batman and Robin. He would do his warm up stretches while thinking about what patrol route the two would make that night, considering why Bruce Wayne chose to become The Bat while he counted each step 1, 2, 3, 4 with the music. He wondered to himself why Jason Todd became Robin when Dick Graysons motivations were much more obvious as he practiced and perfected sauté and focused on how his hands were placed, something he often forget was important.

By the time he became Robin he had been allowed to do several permanences, and was practicing for his role as Prince Siegfried in Swan Lake in just a few months.

It was one of his biggest dreams to play as the Prince in such an iconic performance, especially when he got along well with both Odettes dancer and Odile’s.

Bruce and Dick are excited for him, though Dick shows it better, and Tim is overjoyed to know that his parents will be in town when the opening night is. They say they’ll come and are proud of him for being in such a well known play and doing so in the traditional manner that the play was once made in.

Tim does wonderfully and Alfred organises for it to be recorded for them all to watch later.

Tim is greeted by them back stage after it ends and excitedly runs up to Dick to receive a huge hug. Dick is loudly saying how proud he is and that he’s so impressed his brother can do such an amazing dance. It’s the first time they’ve seen him perform and they were enamoured.

But Bruce looks tense.

“Bruce? Did… did you not like-“

Bruce cuts him off with a hug, “Of course I like it. Loved it even. It’s just…”

It’s then that Tim looks around and notices his parents aren’t there. They could have just gone home, but they wouldn’t give up a chance to boast about their money and successful heir.

Unless…

Tim looks down and tries to hold back his tears, “they didn’t show, huh?”

Tim can’t help but break down once Dick moves in to hug him, yet as Mr Volkov and some of his costars who are his friends come up and join them, he feels okay.

It’s not Janet and Jack, but it’s nice. It’s warm and kind and maybe that’s all that matters.

[lokischocolatefountain]

home in three days, do not wash

Fandom: Gladiator II Pairing: Marcus Acacius x Wife!Reader Rating: 18+ Warnings: age gap, mild choking, mentions of child death, hurt comfort, breeding kink, lactation, reader has children, taboo for the time oral sex, talk of war. Word count: 3.6k words Summary: Your General returns home ravenous for you and you cannot decline him, even if any exposure of his act would bring him great shame. A/N: Thanks to @saradika-graphics for the awesome graphics. Napoleon said 'be home in three days, do not wash' and what was I supposed to do? Not use it for our big thicc roman general returning home from war to fuck us? I did research and shit and came to know that eating pussy was a big no no back in the day. dj Khaled would love to be an ancient roman ig. also learned that rich ladies didn't breastfeed and used a wet nurse but they knew that breastfeeding could help and some women did it. Outside all that research, it's just depravity, baby. Anyway, validate my depravity with some comments pls.

Laughter echoed through the hallways of your palatial home and you stood at a balcony with the best view from atop the hill. The campaign that had taken your husband away had finally come to an end with victory for Rome. Far from the hustle and bustle of the city, you were always one of the last people to receive the latest news of importance. This time was an exception to the rule. 

Home in three days. Do not wash.

All you wanted when you received the message was to run in the direction of the roads that would bring your beloved home. Three days were too long. You wanted to curtail the long wait, run to him so you would be in one another’s arms in a day and a half. 

But you chose the more realistic path and prepared the home for his arrival. The servants polished every surface, your handmaiden ensured you had all your most preferred clothing— that which he loved to see on your body. The kitchen was busy preparing every meal that the master loved. Your two older children with your general busied themselves recollecting everything they learned from their private tutor to impress their father. 

Your youngest, your first son, was still so young he had never met his father. He was the child your dearest had longed to have for so long. For all the luck the gods had given him in the battlefield, they had given very little in the way of children to carry his legacy. In his heart, he was father to seven daughters and six sons. The gods had only allowed four daughters to live. Two of his sons passed in infancy, one passed in birth, taking his mother with him. One other was taken by disease and another killed in battle. 

He now had only one son and he hadn’t yet the joy of holding him in his arms. Everyday that Marcus was in the battlefield was torture. Babe on your breast and fear in your heart over whether his father would live to see him. Fear sometimes subsided for anger to have its way. That very anger remained in your chest, prepared to unleash on him the moment he stepped into the home. 

When the sun dimmed, night crept in and so did Marcus. You refused to greet him at the door. A warm welcome was reserved for men who told their wives where they were going before they left. You had half a mind to ask for a bath to be prepared. To wash yourself with milk and fragrant oils in front of him so he could see your defiance in action. 

But you remained in the balcony, eyes set on the moon who served as your companion when he left you. For all the fury you had for him, there was also an ache of sympathy. You wouldn’t sour his mood the moment he entered. He must see his son first. Then you would see to that he groveled at your feet for his cruelty. 

Just as you thought, you had a long time to relax on the settee. He always went to his children first. Be it after months away on the battlefield or a mere day in the city. You asked for your son’s crib to be moved to your daughters’ room so he would be able to see them all at once, saving him the battle of choosing between his great loves. You’d sent word to him on the battlefield after you gave birth, sent him the name of his son so he would know to include him in his prayers. 

You heard whispers of his voice conversing with a servant. Your heart quickened its pace, each thud against your ribs matching the thuds of his feet against the floor. Oh how you wanted to turn around. It had been so long since your eyes were blessed with him. His towering height, broad frame, the pink of his lips and the curls you so loved to comb through with your fingers. You trembled, the cold breeze reminding you how devoid you’d been of his warmth. Yet you were resolved to not give yourself up to him so soon. You stayed in place and closed your eyes.

He stopped behind you and your name spilled from his lips like honey. It had been so long since anyone spoke your name so… The servants called you mistress and your children called you mother. Your birth family only wrote your name in their many letters. He was the only one who spoke your name, leaving you without hearing your own name since his departure. But you stayed, did not turn, did not open your eyes. He spoke it again, his voice gentle but louder as he stopped at your side. 

“Open your eyes, dearest.” 

“Where have you come, General?” You asked, your voice cold enough to be the envy of the winter breeze. 

“General?” He asked, a hint of amusement playing at his lips. 

“Are you not a General?” You taunted, finally opening your eyes. He looked weary from battle and travel. You longed to take him to your chambers and strip him of his armor to count his wounds, kiss each one be it new or old. His hair was grayer than when he left, his skin duller, but his eyes were still the soft brown that gave you peace when you first saw him as his young bride. 

“Your General,” he said with a small smile as though his words were supposed to make you forgive him at once and shower him with kisses. It only strengthened your resolve. If he wouldn’t treat you as a wife, you wouldn’t give him the respect of a husband. 

“You have a son,” you said, stretching your legs out in the settee just as he made to take his seat there. His hand wrapped around your ankle and you kicked it off, daring him to make another attempt at moving your legs so he could sit. He smiled softly, conceding as he moved to stand by your head. 

“He is beautiful, mellilla,” he said, caressing your cheek. You slapped his hand away. All of Rome may fall at his feet and welcome him back with praises of his victory. He was deserving of course, not only for his achievements but for his undying loyalty to Rome. If Rome were a woman, she would be his principal wife and you— you would only be a tavern whore he fucked and left in the dead of night. 

“You block the moonlight, General Acacius.” 

“Marcus,” he said, moving to allow you sight of the moon once again. He sat in the little remaining space on the settee and looked down at you. Despite the toll war had taken on him, he was incredibly handsome. Bold nose, pink lips and graying curls that only made him look ever so slightly more distinguished. He bent down and pressed a kiss to your lips. You did not return the kiss, but you did not push him away. There was an limit even to your anger. You placed a hand on his shoulder, the act of denying yourself the joy of your lover weighing heavy in your heart.

“I’m afraid I haven’t such an honor.” You bit down on your lip, annoyed at yourself for the trembling of your voice as you spoke. Your anger for him had a foundation of pain after all. 

His face fell and he sighed. He looked down at his lap and you hoped it was from shame.

“If you have nothing to say, you may leave. If you need it, you may summon the servants for your meal. But I am sure the emperor did not send his best general hungering for food or cunt,” you spat, rising to sit up on the settee. Hand as strong as iron wrapped around your wrist, coupling with his strong torso that trapped you in place to keep you from getting up. You squirmed in his grasp, but he did not budge.

“Listen to me.” 

“Is that an order?” 

He wrapped an arm around you and held your cheek in his hand. You looked up at him, giving him biting fury to his firm yet gentle gaze. “If it is the only way I will have your obedience, then yes. It is an order.” 

“You may speak, but you cannot make me listen and you most certainly cannot make me respond.” 

“I am your husband.” 

“A husband doesn’t leave for a year long war at the dead of night with no explanation to the woman swelling with his child,” you screamed, fist slamming against his chest. It didn’t affect Marcus. Nothing affected the great General Acacius, you thought with derision. You hit him in the chest again, tears brimming in your eyes and clouding your vision.

“Forgive me,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You ceased your attacks as his apology coupled with the pain in his eyes reduced you to tears. You’d kept everything in for so long, put on a brave face for your daughters and hid your heart in your letter to your father. It was only with Marcus that you didn’t need to hide. He always tore your fears down and pulled you into the safety of his arms.

“I wouldn’t have been able to leave had I said goodbye.” 

“I was so afraid,” you confessed, leaning into his chest. Every pretense of strength and composure left your body as you let him hold you to his chest. The gold earrings you wore to please his eyes pressed cold against your skin under his hand. He moved next to your hair and then you neck, the hand that held swords and spilled blood only to return home to love you. 

“Carissima…You were all I could think of after I left. Forgive me,” he begged, taking your hand in his and pressing a kiss to each finger. 

“Later. I have missed you. Marcus,” you whispered, craning your neck to kiss him. He returned your kiss in an instant, arms cradling you as you devoured each other. He smelled of war— blood, soil, sweat, and leather. It was far more pleasing to your senses than any fragrant oils and flowers. Your Marcus and his distinctly masculine scent was above all but the fragrance of your newborn. 

You whined as he retreated. He laughed and returned to scatter kisses along your jawline like Rome scattered rose petals along the steps of the Colosseum for his feet. He reached under your layers of silk and linen, making you tremble and press yourself closer to his chest. 

“So soft…” 

“I need you, please.” It was all he needed to hear before he walked up to the doors of the balcony and slammed them shut. What he did with you, for you, wasn’t for anyone else’s eyes but your own. 

He unlatched the gold clips that held your palla to your shoulders and set them aside. Your stola and tunic followed, piling up on the marble floor. Cold air caressed your bare breasts, bigger and fuller now as you nursed your son yourself. You traced your hand up his arm, feeling his vambrace before finding his muscular arms. You whimpered from just how big he was in your hands. You squeezed, feeling the hard muscle and rough skin. 

Your General knelt before you and you sat up straight, confused by his action. He couldn’t be… You sought his apologies and regret, but by no means would you ask him to humiliate himself for you. Such a man, superior to you in every way. 

“Dominus!” You shrieked, reminding him who he was even when he came home. 

“Shh…” 

“Are you going to—?”

“Lick you cunt? Yes. Sit back, now,” he said as he guided you to lean back on the settee. You shook your head from side to side, appalled by the circumstances and confused as to how you were supposed to stop him. He spread your legs wide, planting your feet upon the seat. He licked his plush lips and looked up at you, his eyes those of a ravenous beast. 

“You cannot. I only want you to understand the torture you put me through, not debase yourself in front of me. It’s not right.”  

A corner of his lips curled up slightly. He spat on his hand and rubbed it into your cunt. You arched into his palm, your cunt chasing any contact you could have with your beloved. “Tell me, who do you belong to?” 

“You.”

“Speak fully and speak my name.” 

“I belong to you, Marcus.” 

“Correct. Why do you think then, that you can tell me what I can and cannot do with you?” 

He parted your cunt lips and slid a finger inside you. “You belong to me. All of you. This cunt belongs to me. Does it not?” You nodded as he pumped his thick finger in and out of you. It had been so long since you’d been touched that even his finger felt a little much for you to take. You shuddered as you thought of his cock, promising the virility that came with such a size. 

“Speak,” he commanded, every bit the fearsome General who led men into battle. When even warriors couldn’t defy him, how could you? 

“It belongs to you, Marcus.” 

“Mmm,” he rumbled, curling his finger inside you, making you whimper. “If I want to lick this cunt then, do you have any right to stop me?” 

“N-no,” you cried, grabbing his wrist and imploring him to slow down for you couldn’t take such intoxicating pleasure. “If peo— Marcus! If someone knew—”

Then he dove into your core and licked the nub above your cunt, eliciting a squeal from you. He looked up at you from between your legs, tongue still licking you as he smirked. It was sinful, the sight and the act of a man serving a woman. You shook your head, your senses already addled from being so close to him after a long year. It was wrong. Wrong. But oh gods, he made all the wrongs feel right and who were you to deny him? 

Tears rolled down your cheeks, no longer from the agony of separation from your dearest but from the building pressure in your core. 

“Marcus…” you said, unable to say anything else. You reached your hand towards him, needing to be anchored to the Earth as he flew you to the heavens. He enveloped your hand in his and gave a small squeeze. His other hand and his lips were unrelenting, giving him new ways to torment you. 

How did anyone deem it submissive for a man to kneel and lick cunt? Your Marcus still looked as majestic as ever. The picture of victory that Rome worshiped. The Marcus Acacius who slew and killed was home and ruthless in his conquest of you. Even as he licked your core, he was the one with all the power in hand. This was but a new way for him to take you. 

You gasped inaudibly as he inserted another finger in your cunt, stretching you in preparation for his cock. You felt your unraveling come closer. He pulled you deeper into whatever spell he had you under whenever he touched your cunt. You squeezed his hand tighter, saying everything your lips couldn’t. Hold me, keep me safe, never let me go.

The waves crashed against the rocks on the shores of the beach as you came crashing down from the heavens. Marcus kept his wordless promise. You tightened your legs around his head yet he held you in place and kept you safe. 

When you came to, you found your fingers tangled in between his dark curls. You loosened your grip on him but did not let go, needing to feel him even if it was just his hair. 

“I should not have liked that.” 

He laughed and gave your cunt another lick, smirking as he watched you shudder. 

“But you did,” he said, getting up at last. “I knew you tasted divine, but having you directly from your cunt is something else, melilla.” 

“I have not washed in days because of you. I am sure I taste horrendous.” 

“Good girl, following orders well. But you are wrong. You taste and smell like a woman. Not a perfumed woman. This,” he said in a low voice as the tip of his nose traced up your neck. He inhaled your scent and moaned. “This is nothing you can find in a vial. This is your true scent,” he said, stopping at your ear and placing a kiss. 

“I would recognize it anywhere.” He reached under his pteruges and toga and retrieved his cock. Your cunt clenched at the mere sight of him. 

He was far too covered. As much as you loved to see your General in his armor, you loved more to see him bare. You needed to run your fingers over his bare chest and dig your fingernails into his shoulders as he wrung his pleasure out of you.  You found the ties that held his armor in place and began to undo them. 

“Impatient girl,” he chided as he aligned himself with your cunt. 

“Help me out then,” you snapped back as you struggled with the knots. He ignored your request and continued on his path of destroying you, plunging his length inside you much too quickly. You cried from the pain and pleasure of being stretched out by him once again. 

“Marcus!” 

He bent forward and whispered your name against your lips before claiming them. You moaned into the kiss as you rubbed yourself against him for friction. You were loath to pull away from his cock even the slightest as you ached for him too much to part from him. You wrapped your legs around him and pressed your heels down on his back, pulling him deeper inside you. 

He wrapped a hand around your throat, tightening and loosening every now and then. “Day and night, I longed for you,” he whispered, his breath mixing with yours. “Dreamt of the day I would be inside you again.” 

You echoed the sentiment, but he quickly silenced you with a hard thrust that you felt in the deepest part of your core. He wasn’t the gentle Marcus who treated you like you did your fine silks but the General who conquered every land he set foot on. He rammed in and out of you, reclaiming you as his. Your cunt opened up to take its master, molded itself around him like it did each time since your wedding night. He had taken you, his young bride, and shown you a world only he could. He’d taken and taken, made you a woman by showing you what your body could do for you. 

He licked up your neck, growling like he was tasting the finest delicacies from the emperors’ table after being starved for months. “You smell sweet, Carisimma.” 

“You lived in tents with men for a year. I’m sure a pig would smell sweet to you now,” you said, making him laugh even as he wrecked you. He reached down to your breasts and grabbed one in his hand. He pinched your nipple between his fingers and tugged, making you cry out in pain. 

“Marcus!” Drops of milk trickled from your breasts and he swiped it with him thumb before licking it. 

“I only regret that I could not see you grow bigger with my seed.” 

“You ha- you have seen it before.” 

“Yet I am not satisfied. I need more, I need to fill you up with my seed, keep you full with my children in perpetuity.” 

“Marcus! Please…” 

“What do you beg for, girl?” 

“Give me sons, Marcus. Let me give you heirs,” you cried, overcome by the need to become his in that primal way. It was more than just your duty as his wife. It was an innate desire. As frightening as pregnancy was, you wanted it again and again at the hands of your husband. To give him sons carry his name and daughters who would control the great General with their laughter. 

“Give me sons,” he repeated, the hand around your neck squeezing tight. This time, he did not relax, holding your air hostage as he used your cunt for his carnal desires. You gasped for breath. Your cunt squeezed around him, keeping him in so he would give you his seed and refusing to let go even for a moment. 

Every thrust after sent delicious ripples of pain. You knew that you would wake the next morning unable to walk as usual. You would hear your servant girls giggle when they thought you couldn’t hear. He would wreck you day and night, make you scream for all the house to hear. He would take you to high places in the city, an arrogant smile on his lips as he showed you off, rounded again with his child. 

As though he could read your thoughts, he spilled inside you with a cry of your name. You held him close, afraid he would part from your body and rob you of his warmth. 

He showered you with kisses, beginning as a downpour and ending with a drizzle. You melted into his arms, the tension in your muscles leaving now that you had your Marcus home. You were no longer alone, he was here and he would take care of everything. 

“Am I forgiven now?” 

You smiled, burrowing into his chest as draped your discarded silk over you and picked you up in his arms. “I will consider it if you make sure I don’t bleed this cycle.” 

You felt his chest rumble as he laughed. A kiss on the top of your head.

“As you say, melilla.”

Fic notifications blog

[mrrharper]

Player Of The Month

You can support me at ko-fi.com/mrrharper

It did not take long.

Jake got a notification saying he'd been chosen as the Player of the Month from the server he's been playing on for months now. He was very excited about this as he's never got any in-game title like that before.

He clicked on the notification and scrolled through all the buzzwords to see what rewards he would be getting. Weirdly, there was no mention of any items, upgrades or other perks. Instead there was a button. "Brand new personalized experience".

Jack eagerly clicked the button, the only option avaliable to him. At first nothing happened and he just assumed the game was loading some new assests which would probably take some time.

Suddenly he felt some buzzing in his head, followed by a sharp pain and a feeling as if his headset was tightening around his head. He was paralyzed by this for a moment, his mind completely losing track of what was happening with his body as it was experiencing sudden sensory overload.

And then he was back in the game, but something was different. He was transported to Iron Gym, a locaton on the opposite side of the map from he was just a minute ago. He looked down and saw that his avatar had changed completely. He tried to access his character menu to see what had happened but he couldn't, so he walked up to a mirror.

In in he saw someone completely different. A young dude, clearly muscular, wearing a backwards cap and a pair of tight compression shorts. He looked like a gym bro! Not only that, he looked pretty similiar to the NPCs that populated this area of the game world, which Jake found very strange. Something went wrong here.

Wait, where was his headset? Jake put his hands on his face, but couldn't find the bulky gear he had to wear to play. What was going on?

A player came up to Jake and chose the option to initiate the conversation.

Jake #27AD0019 turned around to face Player#A97F4. His eyes flashed red, showing he was now in interaction mode.

"ey dude, ya got any issue with me bruh?" he asked, an arrogant streak in his voice. He then waited for the player to choose a response form the dialog tree, entering one of his idling animations, moving slightly from left to right and flexing his bare chest.

"Damn, that's a new one, didn't see this character before here" the player muttered to himself, clearly intrigued by the sudden appearance of a new NPC. He then chose a response.

"No, I just noticed you're a regular here and you seem to be doing pretty good, so I wanted to say hi."

#27AD0019's changed his attitude from annoyed and arrogant to proud and cocky. A new animation was triggered by the player's response, making him flash his teeth in a cocky smile, then flex his arms in a double biceps pose.

"hell yeah bruh, am the top dawg here dude"

The player focused on the NPC's muscular arms, while the character kept them in a flexed position up in the air. Player#A97F4 was starting to enjoy the conversation and knew exactly what dialog option he would choose.

"I see, you clearly work out every day. Your form is very impressive."

This prompted another few animations, in which #27AD0019 flexed his arms, chest and legs, showing off his muscles to the player.

"fuck yeah bro! i lift, like, all day dude, gotta work for guns like this bro huhuhuhuhuhuh" He let out a low, dumb laugh. The player grinned as he saw one of the potential responses he had avaliable.

"So not much happening in your life except the gym, right?"

A few calculations happened int he background that determined whether the NPC would respond positively or with anger. The result then took into account the character's intelligence statistic - 3/10. This gave the player the exact result he was looking for.

"huhuhuh yeah dude, am a real gym bro dude, ain't nothin' more important that liftin' bro. head empty, just gains huhuhuhuhuh" The answer triggered another loop of flexing animations.

#27AD0019 was going to be a very popular NPC.

[kiyo-cant-write]

ciel & sebastian w/ servant!reader around ciel's age ✧･ﾟ

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Hello! My writing blog was always meant to be multifandom, but recently I have had many twst requests. To keep up with my personal interests, here is a Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler post about my childhood bias/crush (when I was 11-12): Ciel Phantomhive.

While this post is tagged Sebastian x Reader, their relationship is platonic in this particular work because of the reader's design.

Please note that while requests are open, they will not be posted until after the 27th of December or more accurately into the new year (January 2025). Feel free to request anything within the parameters of my rules, but keep this scheduling fact in mind! Thank you!

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Summary: [Name] is a recent addition to the Phantomhive Staff, gathered by Sebastian and Ciel. They are around Ciel's age and this leads to some... shenanigans.

TW/CW: canon-typical darkness, manga compliant

Notes: pre-relationship (Ciel), explicitly platonic (Sebastian), the reader is human, the reader is 12-13 years old, they/them pronouns for the reader, take place explicitly pre-Campania

Guest Stars: Phantomhive Staff, Elizabeth Midford (mentioned)

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Ciel Phantomhive

Ciel is initially indifferent to [Name] similar to his feelings toward his other servants about half of the time (even Sebastian).

He doesn't see himself as a child so does it matter?

He honestly tries to avoid [Name] at first because he wants to be seen as an equal to the adults. Baldo commenting to "play" with his "friend" really doesn't help the early stages of the relationship.

Being persistent but not forceful will work well.

[Name] needs to prove their worth and use in the household.

[Name] will quickly prove themselves with "clean-up."

They will kill in the name of Earl Phantomhive.

Ciel notices their willingness to serve.

He admires their dedication to protecting him/the estate.

He is impressed if they do not hesitate to strike.

The more he realizes their use and loyalty, the more likely he is to speak to them or even allow [Name] to speak freely with him.

He doesn't like when Sebastian teases him for it, though.

Sebastian might be the biggest obstacle.

If Ciel feels that [Name] is being overbearing, they get sent to spend time with Finny (16) who is also relatively close in age to them. Though Finny is similar to a child brother at times.

Once they are closer, Ciel may become a bit irritable if [Name] gives Finny too much attention or coddling.

"He needs to act his own age."

Ciel cannot do anything about any possible feelings.

[Name] hesitates to do anything either.

They both understand the betrothal between Elizabeth and Ciel.

Finny had given them a suggestion that they weren't sure what to do with. Was it a good idea? No. Was it a curious one? Yes, indeed. They wanted to know what the master's response would be, but they feared it would only be anger for their disrespect. Still... tempting.

[Name] considered their options as they helped Finny in the garden.

"Do you really think that would be a good idea?" they asked him.

Finny nodded as he attempted to gently weed the garden. The last time Finny did this he ripped out some important plants and Sebastian had been ready to skin him. Since that happened, and after the events of last night's clean-up, maintenance was needed and Sebastian chose [Name] as "Finny Watch."

[Name] accepted it as it was.

"I think it would do the young master some good to have a friend his age who calls him by name! He doesn't have any friends..."

Finny seemed sad about it. [Name] wondered why Finny did not try to be a "friend" to their master, but Finny seemed to sense their curiosity. He shook his head.

"It can't be me, I'm older than the young master for one," he explained, "And the young master doesn't think of me like that."

"And he thinks of me as a friend?" [Name] chose to ask.

Finny nodded.

"I can tell he thinks differently of you!"

The gardener beamed at them and they didn't want to crush whatever whimsy and joy this was giving him. They sighed and gave in, knowing they wouldn't hear the end of it otherwise, especially after Finny told Baldo and Mey-Rin about it.

"I'll try and see," they agreed.

[SEVERAL HOURS LATER]

At the end of the day, Sebastian asked [Name] to report to the young master directly about their supervision of Finny and the state of the estate's gardens. [Name] walked into the room and bowed to their lord, nodding to Sebastian a moment after.

"Good evening," they spoke, not making eye contact with either.

"Good evening, [Name]," Ciel greeted, taking a sip of his tea as he watched them, "I trust you kept Finny under control?"

[Name] nodded.

"Yes, he took care of replanting and weeding. There were no, ah, plant deaths," they explained in as succinct a way as they could, "We talked as we worked and completed everything Sebastian told us to."

They had to ignore the soft stifled laugh that came from Sebastian when they fumbled for a phrase and chose "plant deaths."

"I see, very good then."

He seemed pleased. The master was in a good mood? Hm. This might be their chance so they took it without hesitation.

"Master, if I may speak freely for a moment?" they asked him

Ciel raised an eyebrow but he nodded slowly after a moment of contemplation.

"You may but whatever about?"

[Name] felt bad for confusing him but it was somewhat refreshing to hear the master speak without that underlying darkness in his tone.

"Finny suggested something to me. I would like to try something," [Name] explained, hoping this wouldn't ruin whatever relationship they did have with the master.

"Something. Very specific," was Ciel's comment, "Go ahead."

Ciel seemed certain [Name] wouldn't hurt him and even if they tried, Sebastian would handle them swiftly like he always did.

"Ah, thank you for your permission... Ciel."

There was a silence that fell over the room as neither child spoke. Ciel was frozen in place, Sebastian seemed to be holding back another laugh, and [Name] was unsure if Finny's theory was true.

A faint hue of pink dusted Ciel's cheeks as he averted his gaze.

"Was," he began, "Was that all you wanted?"

"Yes," [Name] admitted, "I'm sorry, sir."

Ciel was silent once again and [Name] worried they really had crossed a line, but then he spoke again, softer this time.

"It isn't as though I care what you call me when there aren't guests around," he said, waving the hand that wore his family's crest, "Do as you like with the estate's image in mind... I suppose."

[Name] couldn't disguise the smile that took over their features.

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Sebastian Michaelis

To be quite frank, Sebastian thinks children are brats.

He didn't want another child around but it cannot be helped because [Name] is useful for the estate's security.

Despite not liking them at first, Sebastian is always "nice."

He is never without a polite smile, it's a bit unnerving.

As [Name]'s work proves proficient, he eases up.

They make fewer mistakes than the others.

Because of this, they are not so annoying to him.

"Child, you would do best not to hinder my work. But if you would like to lend me your help, you may."

He refers to [Name] more often as "child" or "littlest one."

He means they are the youngest of the servants.

He often lets [Name] off easy with punishment, similar to how he never scolds Tanaka the way he does with Baldo, Mey-Rin, Snake, and Finny.

Sebastian likes to make fun of [Name] and Ciel's similar ages.

He allows [Name] to sit in for Ciel's lessons at times.

In the end, Sebastian might be fond of the human.

Still, he won't say that kind of thing. What use would kind words be from someone like him? He doesn't much care for anyone.

He is bound to his master until the end of their contract.

That is all. Right?

"What in the world are you doing?" Sebastian asked as he came up to them, essentially appearing from thin air.

The young servant jumped at the sudden voice in the silence of the cellar and whipped around to face him, dropping their cleaning rag on the floor in the motion. Noting it was Sebastian, they let out a relieved sigh and bent down to pick up the rag.

"Sebastian! You startled me!" they told him, brows furrowed, "Why do you like to sneak up on me like that?"

Sebastian chuckled softly, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"I don't mean to. Perhaps you are just easily scared, child?"

"I don't think so," they said softly before they moved to continue their task, "And, I'm not done with this task yet. Did you have something else for me to do?"

They couldn't believe they had more work to do now. That was always why Sebastian came to see them, to give them a task someone else had botched or enlist their help with something else entirely.

"I did," the butler told them, "I seem to require your help with a lesson for the young master."

[Name] paused.

"A lesson?" they asked him, giving a skeptical look though they tried their best to mask it, "Would I be expected to come with you now?"

They were unsure if he was telling the truth. Sebastian enjoyed messing with them, just a little. But it was enough to make [Name] wonder every time the butler told them much of anything. They wanted to go to the lesson, though. Learning was... fun.

Sebastian noticed the look, being a demon and all, but said nothing about it. Instead, he simply nodded and smiled at them as he always did to the guests the manor received.

"Indeed. I would need you to accompany me to the study."

They weighed their options. Sebastian was probably not lying.

"Alright," they agreed a moment later, "Do I need to finish this task first? You did give me a list of things to make certain of here."

Sebastian shook his head.

"No, that won't be necessary. I will take care of it."

They almost bowed to him but caught themself. It was hard to treat Sebastian as a butler when he held himself with as much pride as any man would. Still, the one time they had spoken too highly of him, the young master had gotten upset with them (and Sebastian too).

It had been an... ordeal.

"I see. Thank you, then," they told him curtly though they couldn't help but smile.

A lesson! How fun! They wanted to cheer but didn't.

Even if they were only cleaning the room to spectate, it was a chance to learn things. They would learn something and earl was learning! It seemed like a fairly good deal in [Name]'s opinion.

Too focused on rushing to put away their supplies and head toward Ciel's study, they did not see a softer expression adorn the butler's face as he watched them move past him.

Perhaps they would never know his true affection for his littlest one.

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Imagine the rest yourself~

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Thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are appreciated! Do NOT repost my writing/headcanons as your own >:c Check the top of my blog for the inbox status and read the rules before requesting. This is not a kuro-only blog! ^^

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 || 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠!𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one: I knew you were trouble || part two: Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_No richness and benefits from being part of a successful family from District 1 would take away the broken pride of being Coriolanus Snow's second choice. Even worse was the pain of his marriage proposal, and the horrors that happened around the 10th Hunger Games.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_reader is unhinged, she experiments with herself, angst, tears, female rage, Snow actually loves reader (well idk).

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞_main song for this is I knew you were trouble. Also Valley of the dolls, song added to my Coryo Copito's playlist

♪ ♫ Coryo playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)

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Color was unintentionally banned in The Capitol. After the First Rebellion, everyone's wardrobes were full of black, white, cream, brown, maroon, and grey. That would put your shag haircut and purple eyeshadow in the spotlight. Because you were a District 1 girl. And even after moving to The Capitol, luxury would never leave you.

Your father's bodyguard took you to school. And it made you feel like a pampered kid. But that changed after seeing that all of the Academy's students were rich kids.

A lot of students sent deep looks, you want to believe they're just curious. You're not innocent, but you'd avoid trouble as much as you could.

You hated the uniform. The skirt was fine, but the pants under it? It wasn't your style.

Things started getting interesting after Dean Highbottom announced how your classmates and you would be competing for the Plinth Prize. In a few weeks, the process would start. You had to get the best grades. But for now, it was lunchtime.

It was the issue with being the new girl, the cliche of being excluded. Groups of girls, boys, mixed, and a lonely blonde guy.

"Can I sit with you?" He looked around, wondering if you were talking to him or not. Meanwhile, you wondered why you chose to ask. You rarely socialized, and you wrongly expected people to reach you, instead of you making the first move.

"If you want to." He had very intriguing blue eyes. His blonde curls were slightly messy. And overall he was handsome. Although, his tone of voice was a little cold.

"Y/n..." you explained after seeing him looking expectantly, silently asking for your name. He was all ears after hearing your last name.

Except for your scar. A long pink asymmetric line that traveled from your nose to your neck. It made him lock his eyes on your face. But he tried his best to not make it seem obvious. "Coriolanus Snow" your eyes widened. You knew the family Snow was super rich and important. You heard rumors about them now being poor. But those were rumors, and it wasn't your business.

"Well, nice to meet you"

"Shouldn't you be in District 1?"

"My mother is opening a new store here at The Capitol. And my father is getting a lot of jobs. So... it was for the best" he assumed you were as lonely as him. Without any siblings to grow up with. Only the finest commodities to soothe you.

"My cousin can't stop talking about your mother" Tigris would never shut up about it. The fashion designer and owner of "Ametrine Designs". Established shortly after the First Rebellion. Decades ago your family acquired some Mines in Districts 1 and 12, and all the precious stones helped to survive the war and be some of the first people to gain power after it.

" So she likes fashion?" Coriolanus chuckled.

"She certainly does..."

"That's so sweet...What about you?. What do you want to be?" He cleaned his mouth like he was thinking about his answer carefully. And he was, he couldn't help but think you were gorgeous. The girl his grandma'am would love. So he wanted to impress you.

As soon as he watched you enter the classroom and Casca Highbottom introduced you, he couldn't stop looking at you.

"I don't know yet. I just want to help my cousin and grandma'am" he admitted. It came from his heart, and your reaction was what he wanted. You smiled so happily like you thought he was so kind and adorable.

What actually happened, you thought Coriolanus Snow was cute.

"You're going to make me sound so ambitious. I want to go to University. Learn about politics and genetics..." you surprised him. For real...

"You- you want to become... president?" You giggled. Brushing the short hairs on your forehead away.

"It's stupid! I just..." you blushed. And Coriolanus thought he had never seen a pink like the one painting your cheeks.

"No!... It's impressive." He offered a little smile, to which you also replied. And it felt comfortable like it was meant to be.

"Hey uhm... I would love to meet your cousin. And we could sit together tomorrow again?" To Coriolanus, it was a success what he had done. He made you feel like seeing him again. It made him proud, and it made his heart beat faster.

"Yes... Of course" with a sweet smile of yours, you disappeared from the cafeteria.

Less than a minute later, Arachne and Clemensia came with Felix.

"Did the sequin girl feel shame for you? You befriended her, Snow?" He sighed.

"Ara..." Clemmie scolded her. The girl with perfect red lips rolled her eyes.

"I heard his father is running for mayor of the 1. If not, he'll end up in my father's cabinet" Felix explained. Snow looked him in the eyes. It wasn't a surprise that your father was trying to work alongside the president. Just unexpected for Coriolanus and his luck.

"Oh, and the scar on her face was made by a rebel. Apparently, some rebels held her and the family captive. They killed the older brother and tortured her." Arachne gossiped. Clemensia gasped in horror, and Felix seemed disgusted.

"No wonder why she has that exotic appearance. She needs to feel pretty and confident with that thing on her face"

"She's still pretty, Arachne," Clemmie shared. And Felix nodded.

Snow only listened, careful to capture every detail to share in the night with Tigris.

"Doesn't matter. She looks innocent but it's obvious she's just like her mother. Too analytical. Like she could plan and hide a murder" That stuck on Coriolanus for too long. But he liked you already, which never happened. And he thought he could have a friend.

...

Three months later, your mother opened the first "Ametrine Designs" in The Capitol. You invited most of your classmates. By that winter, Clemensia Dovecote, Sejanus Plinth, and Tigris Snow were close friends. Your mother loved Tigris and approved your very close friendship with Coriolanus.

So that night, you were wearing an elegant blue velvet dress, off shoulders and a sheer cape adorned your clavicles. The cape got stuck on a little tree on your patio. Coriolanus helped and soon after he gave you a kiss on the lips.

And as the months passed, it never became official. But the kisses, hands holding, leaning on each other, that happened often.

So now grab him by the entrance of the Academy. He gave you a kiss on the cheek, and the students around watched curiously.

"You look very pretty," he said, looking at your violet coat. Under, you had a vivid red dress and some cranberry boots. Your lips matched your boots and the metallic silver eyes you had made you look so unique.

"But look at you, handsome as always. Tigris made this?" He nodded, letting you fix one of the shirt's buttons.

Clemensia joined you and the blonde guy. But before entering the room where you'd see the Reaping and the announcement of the Plinth Prize winner, you grabbed him by the forearm. "What?" He asked.

"I just hope you win so badly. Just that, Coryo" he smiled, caressing your cheek. Since you were the only one who knew about his economic position, you had only helped him. And he questioned when to pop up the question. Do you want to be his girlfriend?

"What would I do without you?" He asked, before leaning in to kiss you. You reciprocated, holding his free hand. His kisses were slow, yet he always set a pace that made it addictive. And for the first time, his hand on your cheek explored a new place, your hip.

Only that ended sooner as new waves of students could be heard. So you smiled at him after separating. And together, you entered the room.

...

You felt sorry for Coriolanus. After all his efforts, there's a change with the Plinth Prize. And then he receives a District 12 girl to mentor, literally zero hopes.

Then she goes to sing and it makes you giggle, she had a beautiful voice and you liked what she said before leaving. But you kinda felt she was going to be a problem.

Either way, you were more concentrated on why you didn't get a tribute. Until the woman who intimidated you the most appeared.

"Y/n y/l/n." You hear Dr. Gaul says, her intimidating eyes from different colors are set on you.

You gulp before looking up at her, ignoring Arachne's mocking smile.

"Your genetic research was a success. And after correcting the formula you made, I was able to finish my new creation." Your eyes widened. Across the room, Sejanus smiled at you. And Clemmie, sitting beside you, squeezed your hand in support. It was just a stupid idea of altering some snakes.

"No student had ever defied the principles of science like you did. And because of that, you'll help me supervise and modify the games." Sejanus started clapping and soon Clemmie also did, making everyone applaud and cheer for you.

"Oh my god," you said incredulously. Laughing nervously.

"Congratulations," Coriolanus said, also squeezing your hand. You accept his smile and you can't help but hug him briefly.

Things would change. A lot... And for the worse.

...

The first thing you notice is that you haven't visited Coriolanus and Tigris since the Reaping. You barely saw the blondie and you spent most hours locked in the laboratory.

You try to forget the night you saw the game's updates. In your room, putting creams on your scar as you let the air flow through your balcony. Coriolanus was at the zoo with the tributes. You wondered what the hell he did to end up there. He made you feel a little embarrassed. But it was even more awkward to see him holding hands with her, talking to the camera as if they knew and liked each other. You couldn't hate Lucy Gray Baird, but you didn't like her either. What you hated is that Coriolanus seemed to be getting obsessed with winning.

…

"Coryo!" You yelled, spotting the guy coming out of a classroom.

You hug him and his hands land on your waist.

"I've missed you..." you admit with a blush. Trying to make him see that you are still there. Because whether you had some history with him, his little tribute was making you uneasy. "You have been busy," he replies. And you notice his cold tone.

"How is your songbird? Bet she's an annoying rebel..." he sighs. Remembering he had to take Lucy to the arena and form some strategy. But also, what you said was true. Lucy’s voice was so sweet. And she made him feel human.

"She's fine..."

"I can't believe what happened to Arachne" you opt for changing the subject.

"I was there..." you sigh. Maybe you didn't like her at all. But the young woman gave a sarcastic dark twist to every class. And her death was such a tragic event. For her and her tribute.

"Coryo... You have to promise me you'll be careful. The tributes are angry. They hate us. You can't even trust the rainbow girl because she sings you a song" he knew you were right. And he felt so wrong about even thinking about Lucy Gray more than you.

"I know. You're also coming to the arena with us. You won't leave my side..." you nod. And just like that, he takes your hand and takes you home. Even if he didn't have a chauffeur, you'd walk him for days.

...

Coriolanus could recognize your low heels wherever. So he turned to see you entering the arena with two peacekeepers behind you. This time, you were wearing a bright blue dress and purple tights. Immediately he left Lucy Gray and came to greet you.

"Are those new?" Coriolanus asked, pointing at your purple legs. You giggled, happy to see him smiling at you again.

"That's right, dear."

"Listen, I have to take some measurements and make some notes for Gaul." However, he could see you uneasy as you spoke. So he gently grabbed your forearm.

"Hey. Are you okay?" You sighed, closing your eyes. That’s why you missed him so much. Sejanus was busy, and Coriolanus was also busy. You haven’t talked with anyone about Clemensia.

"It's Clemmie. She's...It wasn't only flu, Coryo. Her skin... and her eyes" he worried after seeing you on the verge of tears. He grew curious, immediately remembering that she hadn’t come to class again. And while he didn't have time to ask more. He would soothe you at least.

"Hey, hey... It's not your fault. You didn't know Gaul was going to use the snakes to punish Clemensia. Okay?..." you nod wiping a tear.

"It's not your fault. Say it... It's not your fault, y/n" You nod, holding onto his words like a lifesaver. Just like you thought Coriolanus was in your life.

"It's not my fault. But I'm still looking for a way to help her" he smiled briefly. Always so kind. "Look at me, y/n." You do, and you get lost in his ocean-blue eyes. Like the first time. "You're good." Again, you nod.

The songbird watched how he talked to you, and then you smiled at him. She knew what love looked like. And Lucy Grey figured out very easily that you were in love with Coriolanus Snow. You kissed his cheek and soon the peacemakers followed you. You started inspecting the arena, taking notes in a little notebook.

And as soon as he was back with Lucy Gray, the bombing started.

"Y/N!" Coriolanus screamed as he watched how you got lost through the flames and haze of ashes. And then... darkness.

...

Tigris disliked how her cousin asked for Lucy Gray first rather than you. But Coriolanus could only think of her being safe, then on you.

Both were okay. You prepared the interviews for Lucky Flickerman. Lucy sang her song about revenge, and Coriolanus noticed everyone tearing up. He knew you were not. Wherever you were, you didn't have the kind of heart to cry because of a song. Instead, you cried from guilt for ruining your female best friend's life by helping to create poisonous snakes.

"Now, y/n y/l/n. How does it feel being the youngest person in the history of the Hunger Games to be directly involved in the creation and supervision?" Lucky asked you. And suddenly, Coriolanus was fixed on you on the screen. You looked fine. Stunning as usual with your exotic taste in fashion and attractive hair.

"It feels like a big responsibility. And although sometimes I question the brutality of the games. I know we deserve peace. All of Panem. So if we have to hold tightly to get there... So be it" The blonde could see how Sejanus wasn't pleased by your answer. He always seemed to disagree with everything related to the games.

"Honest answer I see. And one more question and I let you free. Would you say this games will finally make the show a spectacle?" You smile. Because on the other side, as you look at the microphone pointing at you, you can't help it. You can already see Lucy Gray's dirty intentions. You know she saved Coriolanus. You know he cared for her. And it was evil, but you weren't sure you wanted her to win.

"Guess we'll all see it for ourselves tomorrow." Coriolanus saw you smiled differently. It wasn't one of bright smiles. But he decided to let it go.

Just as he abruptly stopped himself from kissing Lucy Gray at the zoo. Because the image of you wouldn't fade.

...

After Sejanus left before the start of the games, you repressed the urge to go after him. You felt like you needed to talk to him. He knew you could have done more for his tribute and the games in general. Suddenly working for Gaul was putting between the sword and the wall.

But that was forgotten as soon as you stepped in front of all the mentors, instructing how the timing would go. Coriolanus seemed off. Almost avoiding you. But you also felt a little awkward, so you didn't try to catch up with him. Only sent a bouquet and dinner for him to the hospital after the bombing.

You could feel his eyes on you. But you were looking at the arena. The massacre had started. And everyone thought you had a strong stomach to see all the gore without making a disgusted face. Some were vomiting and the whole room feel like the games were actually a polo bet night. The only think that made you feel less stressed were the comments from Lucky Flickerman.

After midday, you left. Coriolanus stayed very late. Until Dr. Gaul appeared and told him about Sejanus. Soon he learned the elder woman called you too. And it frightened him. Since you two were best friends of Sejanus, you two had to get him out of the arena. Coriolanus believed his frien was trespassing the Capitol’s trust. When you two arrived at the Arena, he stopped you.

"You're not going inside." He says.

"I can't let you go there alone," you explain worriedly. Also, Sejanus was your best friend. "And I can't risk you going there and getting hurt" he cared, but it felt different now. Maybe it was because of her.

"Please, y/n. Not you, please" you sigh, letting him go and enter the arena.

As soon as you hear "enjoy the show", your heart starts pounding so fast. And although you can't see very well, you start screaming for your friends when Coral and her allies start chasing them. You were used to the violence and disturbances of the games since your father hosted parties to watch them and celebrate.

Tears start falling as soon as you hear the crack of the tribute Coriolanus had just killed. You cover your mouth in shock. Time seems to pass slower than usual as he and Sejanus run towards you on the exit.

You want to rip the doors and take them out. But you can't, and then... the peacekeepers do it. And the first thing you do is to catch Coriolanus in your arms. You hold him tight as you hug Sejanus with a free arm. They also seem shocked, you can hear Sejanus cry and it tears you apart.

"It's okay. It's okay" you soothe them. Coriolanus holds your waist so hard because he can't imagine losing you. But that would exactly happen in less than 24 hours.

But for the rest of the night, you have him in the little laboratory Dr. Gaul let you have. Coriolanus is still, but you can see a couple of tears falling. You swiftly clean his face, his healthy arm again holding you.

"I killed that boy. It was a kid." You feel bad for him. So sad to see him like that. But you understand, he never imagined he would end up fighting for his life in the arena of the Hunger Games.

"It was either you or him, Coryo. Can you understand that? It was your life and Sejanus too. Imagine the shame if a tribute ended up killing two mentors" he looked at you. He wondered why you were reacting so neutrally. He expected you to take this differently, but you defended his actions seriously.

"Yeah. Right..."

"You're here, alive. You can still win that prize and make Tigris and your Grandma'am happy" you explain finally.

"And you? What can I do to make you happier?" He meant the prize wouldn't change a thing between you two.

"You already make me happy, Coriolanus. Just by seeing you for a minute in my days, it's enough" he couldn't help it, he traced your scar so tenderly, making you feel special before he kissed you abruptly. You dropped the gazes and the alcohol bottle. But soon your hands ended up on his messy hair. And again that thing. His hands are on your hips. The urge to touch was growing the more you two kissed. The kiss turned passionate, for the first time, his tongue met yours. And by the time Coriolanus was about to slide his hand under your dress, a peacemaker entered, demanding your report to hand it to Dr. Gaul.

"Water mutts?" Coryo asked after you handed the paper.

"Something I've been working on lately" you admitted.

Tomorrow was the big day. Where all would collide.

...

"I'm so nervous..." Tigris said, sitting beside you. The whole room was full of students. The second day of the games. Dr. Gaul warned you about the snakes that would end the games. And you didn't say no. Even if that made Coriolanus lose.

"It's okay, Tigris. It's almost over" you reply, accommodating your gloves. She looks down and smiles.

"Hey! Are those the gloves I made for you?" You nod giggling. A pair of grey elegant gloves. "Yes. I love them. They have been washed a lot lately" She feels so happy that you wore her present.

For the last hour, you could only think about Coriolanus kissing you last night. It made you blush and realize it. You loved him. And you couldn't wait for the games to be over. Because you would ask him. That if there was anything he could do to make you happy, was to make you his girlfriend.

“ Miss y/l/n." Dr. Gaul appeared beside you. She tilted her head, indicating you to follow her. You excuse yourself with Tigris and leave.

"I have eyes and ears everywhere. What was Mr. Snow doing two nights ago by the zoo talking with his tribute?" You frown, confused. You knew she didn’t want to keep an eye away from Coriolanus.

"I'm afraid I don't know, Dr. Gaul. I hadn't seen it personally since yesterday after... the incident with Sejanus" She nods. She knows a liar. And she knows you are telling the truth. "Well, interesting is the fact that yesterday was with you and two nights ago kissing the songbird. So I thought he had shared his plans with you" You feel blushing, embarrassed. You turn down to look at Coriolanus. He's so invested in seeing the screen.

And before you can't answer the woman beside you, you hear Lucy Gray Baird singing again, the snakes cuddling all over her. You frown again. You don't want to accept it, but did he?... No. Coriolanus would not risk everything like that for her nor the prize. But the snakes would only remain still with people they’re used to. Lucy Gray had never been in contact with them, and singing to them wasn’t enough. And then you look at Coriolanus again, and you know his face so well. You know it already.

Dr. Gaul turns to look at you, hoping to see you have the answer on your face. But she sees you confused, even angered. Like herself.

Coriolanus demands her to let Lucy Gray win, and you pray she says no. The confusing feelings over being on the of Sejanus and his rebellious thoughts. The guilt of what happened to Clemensia. The weight of designing the games. The weird back-and-forth thing with Coriolanus.

Dr. Gaul accepted Lucy Gray had won and everyone cheered. Everyone cheered for him. But you couldn't. Not after hearing he had kissed Lucy Gray. Not after being almost sure he cheated. Not after you realized he had been playing with you.

After he celebrated with Tigris, he felt your eyes on him. You immediately left. And he followed you.

You were almost at the end of the hallway when he saw you.

"Y/n!... wait up!" You turned, tears flowing deeply. He got taken aback by how hurt you looked.

"Was it worth it? Risking everything for her?"

"I did it for the prize" he stated, looking worried. Did you know what he did?

"LIAR!. You kissed her!" By that point, he knew you had feelings for him. So it made him feel worse.

"I didn't..."

"I'm sure you almost did" Soon the tears were dry, and all you could feel was anger.

"Was her voice? Her singing? Her silly dress? Why her?" He almost felt ashamed. But tried to remain looking at you in the eyes.

"It's difficult." You laugh, genuinely laugh. He finally accepted it. It was her all along.

"You know?..." you ask, spitting venom with your voice. Your cream nail pointing at him, gloves on your other one.

"If you were smarter than you think you are, you could have started dating me soon after meeting me."

"We would've eventually ended up marrying and half of my fortune would've automatically been yours. No need to win the prize." He's finally ashamed. He meets this new version of yours, and he doesn't like it.

"But you decided to risk everything. For a nobody girl from District 12. How shameful for a Snow" You smile, and he can feel it coming, losing you.

"Please, y/n..." he said, but you interrupted him.

"One last thing. If you don't get caught and punished. You'll either receive less than what was expected from the prize, Casca's demand." He remained quiet.

"That little songbird is going to hurt you. She's used you since the beginning. And when you feel like you lost it, you're gonna remember me. I promise you, Snow" you never called him that. It hurt him in many ways that surprised him. Marking the end of the history you two had made up.

"But remember... Snow always lands on top" The way you said it, so cynical, making fun of him. It almost made him fall on his knees for you. But all he did was appreciate your evil smile as you left him standing there. He felt like he hadn't just won, like Lucy Gray didn't.

...

Exile. That's what he deserved. But it boiled your blood that he decided to bribe you to serve as a peacekeeper in District 12. He left you for her, officially. And Sejanus was leaving too. You hadn't visited Clemensia in days for being crying in your room as soon as you left the Academy. But an idea appeared in a dream. Where you magically made your scar disappear. Since Snow continuously kissed and traced your scar, you would get rid of it. At the same time, you would help treat Clemensia's condition. And if it worked, it would give you honors for graduation.

But for now, it has been hours of testing, mixing, and injecting. Until Sejanus appeared. And you explained to him everything. And revealed about the exile.

He left a week after the games. In the meantime, he never reached you. And it finally broke you. But your big ego wouldn't let you crumble publicly again.

"Does it sound ridiculous? That I'm experimenting with myself to be beautiful?" you asked. Sejanus sighed. The desks were full of chemicals and different herbs, which unsettled the young man. "You don't have to do this. You're fine... you're already beautiful. And you're also doing this for Clemmie" he made you giggle.

"And you're leaving after telling me this? Who's gonna remind me of my beauty then?" Sejanus was a sweetheart, and you constantly wondered what could have been if he let you sit beside him instead of Coriolanus.

"I'll send letters. And... Do you want me to tell Coryo anything...?"

"No." He sighed.

"He's going to see it. He'll come back to you" his words settled an uncomfortable feeling in your guts. But you did your best to smile honestly.

"Maybe this is the way it was supposed to end. And it's okay..."

No, it wasn't.

"No matter what...You'll be happy. I know you're going beyond expectations" Sejanus was that friend you really appreciated. You couldn't help but tear up when he decided to hug you. "You can make it better. Take care of Clemmie and yourself." Your eyes widened. Remembering that maybe... Sejanus was a rebel sympathizer. And it made you wonder if you were one too. It brought you to an inconsistent decision. Where you worked for a woman who was the opposite of him in many ways.

"Good luck, Sejanus," he smiled. Gently squeezing your cheek and letting you go. "You're full of that. I'll just miss you" and with that, Sejanus was gone.

And that would be the last time you saw him…

Sejanus didn't make it to graduation. He was hanged for treason. Clemensia had surgery and she refused to go out in public yet. You finished the treatment for her, but it still needed examinations. You were not at your best moment, to be honest.

So you graduated alone, with no best friends, and no blonde guy you loved. Just you. Soon you started university, and your father became head of the president's cabinet. Your mother made her first fashion show and you saw Tigris. You didn't ask about Snow and she didn't mention him either.

However, rumors filed across The Capitol. You knew he was back. And that the Plinths made him heir of their fortune. Lucy Gray disappeared. And you were the most influential person in Panem apparently. Mixing in the world of fashion, science, and politics. The Capitol's dream girl.

You felt powerful, confident, and strong.

So the day you feared came. Seeing Coriolanus Snow again.

Different hair, different clothes, different look, same eyes. The counseling center of Capitol's University was a desert. Just you and him.

He smiles, looking at how much you changed in a matter of months. Longer hair that made you even more irresistible. Your scar seemed to be fading. Your eyes weirdly looked even lighter, and your skin looked different too.

You make your way past him, going three steps up in the giant elegant stairs of the building. "Can you listen to me? Just for a minute?" You turn, looking at him. His father must've looked like that.

"You had a week to talk before you left for District 12." He remained still. Of course it wouldn’t be easy with you. He had always had it easy and now, you demonstrated being tough in reality.

"It happened, right? What I predicted..." His silence was a yes to you. So you giggle, proud to know he suffered at least.

"Have a nice day, Snow"

"Marry me..."

You turn again, looking down at him in shock. No, we wouldn’t…

He waits for a response. Your painted lips and killer eyes won't look away from him. Somehow, Snow believes you are now just like him. Carrying errors and guilt.

Your heels, he could never forget the sound of them. He inspects your steps closer, you looking taller some steps up. He was taken aback when your wine nails gently dug into his neck, and your sweet-looking lips smashed his.

Somehow he felt wrong, but the kiss felt right. It was meaningless, but it was unleashing some kind of lustful awakening again. Surrendering, finally, his hands landed on your hips, keeping you aligned and centered almost between his legs.

"You'll never love me. If I married you, I would be nothing. Because I'll never be her..." You felt him gripping your hips harder. He didn't like the comment. But you had just begun. "Remember. We're still kids, Snow. Just nineteen. You still have a long way to reach power. And you need my father's help. You need my influence. You win, I lose..." his jaw tightened, and finally you stood straight stepping away from him.

So he also stood on the same step as you. The height difference is even more evident. Your heels made some effort to make you feel confident, as your chin would barely make it past his chest. But his eyes pierced you. Those deep blue ocean eyes seemed to be hosting a tsunami.

At the same time, he was getting lost in the almost frozen honey of your eyes. Trying to describe how you could ever forgive him. Believing it was because of his hunger for power, he leaned.

Again, his lips grazed yours. Your eyes are glued to the black and white tile floor. And his eyes locked in your neck.

"I'm going to marry you." It was a statement. There was a need in his words. But no love. But you stepped even closer. Ready to counter back.

"We'll see." Without a last look, you hurried your pace upstairs. That didn't stop your confidence from looking visible. Snow believed you hated him to death. That was a lie. Snow could feel how much he had hurt you and how that changed you. That was true.

As your graceful figure disappeared through the hall of the building, Snow stood there alone. Trying to convince himself that he was putting much effort into marrying you because of the money and your father's political position. Rather than his wounded heart trying to heal with the sweetest person he met some months ago. The first person who he didn't feel the need to fit in. The only person who had offered him respect and time without expecting anything back. He had every chance with you and he wasted it. For Lucy Gray Baird. For nothing.

As you looked at the Capitol through your car, you reminisced. You knew he would insist. You knew being a teenager was over.

When you make it to your home, there's a big bouquet of white roses on your bed. You don't read the note. The logo of the family Snow was enough. It angers you to the point where you smash the bouquet against the sheets, ruining it and making a mess of petals all over your bed. This little war of yours was just starting. And you knew you weren't ready to fight with a broken heart, a damaged pride, and a love you couldn't get over with. Coriolanus Snow would mean trouble. You knew it the moment he let you sit beside him. It would be a problem. But one thing was for sure. No matter what, he would never have all the power. And if it wasn't yours, control would be.

_______________________________

Special mention_ @earphonejack09

I'm thinking of doing part two with the proposal, tension, reptile Clemmie, drama, reputation + evermore era, and the wedding.

[threalcrabbysamantha]

the southern raiders & misplaced anger

Saw people being weird about the Southern Raiders episode again, and I started a long response but it was sooooooo long, I thought I should just make a separate post. 

Here’s the thing: the Southern Raiders episode is about two things - on the surface it’s about Zuko, Katara, and misplaced anger. Thematically, though, this episode is about forgiveness and negotiating where forgiveness fits into the overturning of oppressive regimes. 

I’m just here to talk surface level today. Maybe one day I’ll delve into the thematic stuff (which I think is also so well done). What’s brilliant about this episode is that even the surface level hits more than just the surface - it’s complex, filled with a lot of subtext. Recently I saw someone lament that it’s weird that this episode seems to reinforce the idea that Katara blames Zuko because of her mom’s death - but this reading of the episode really takes things at face value, and I think we need to look deeper than that. 

What always strikes me about this episode is that before it happens, the audience sort of assumes that Katara is angry at Zuko because his actions caused a lot of harm to Aang. But once we get to her confrontation with Zuko, she names the source of her anger as something different: I was the first person to trust you, she says, and you turned around and betrayed me. This is the first thing she says to Zuko that makes an impression on him likely because it feels like the first real thing she says to him about her anger, beyond just aggressively taunting.

But it’s also…ridiculous. He “betrayed” her?? They had no agreement, no alliance! He chose his sister over some random girl he had one conversation with, an action that, as smart as we’ve seen Katara be, shouldn’t have been all that surprising to her. I think the wording here is very important that she trusted him and he betrayed her, because it should set off some alarm bells in your head, the absurdity of the accusation. And it points to the truth: Katara is directing her anger at Zuko, sure, but who is she really mad at? 

It has to be herself. She trusted Zuko, like an idiot, and then Zuko almost got Aang killed. That’s why, for the first time in the show, her anger spins her so out of control. Because she’s not putting the anger in the right direction, not working through it. Anger has a very interesting role in ATLA because the show never really suggests that anger, at its core, is a bad thing, which is a radical position for a kids show in 2005. Katara is the best evidence of this, since her anger 99% of the time is a life giving force interconnected with her hopefulness; the show celebrates her anger more often than it punishes it. But in TSR, her anger is killing her because it’s different than usual. It’s tied up her guilt, and instead of feeling it and working through it, she’s just pushing it on someone else. 

It���s also telling and important that Katara starts blaming Zuko for her mom’s death. Again, this is misplaced, but it’s no wonder she would be thinking about her mom in the wake of her renewed guilt over what happened to Aang. Her mom, after all, also died because of her. 

This is the crux of the episode: Katara feels intense guilt and anger over her mother, and she places it all on Zuko because let’s be honest - she blames herself for all of this, and it all ends up tied together, her guilt her anger. I have no doubt that the person she’s most angry at is herself, unable to do anything to save her mother. And then years later she turns around and trusts ZUKO, of all people - how stupid was that? I mean just LOOK at the way that Katara had spent years turning herself into a caretaker for everyone around her. At first this just seems like a trauma response to losing her mom at a young age - but once we know that her mom died to protect Katara, died in her PLACE - it becomes clear, to me anyway, that Katara making herself into a caretaker at 14 is wrapped up in her guilt and anger over her mom. It’s a punishment, in many ways; she has to take over her mom’s role because her mom died in her place.

Perhaps the final sort of evidence for me that Katara is actually mad at herself in this episode is that Zuko, king of self-loathing, becomes her mirror, her sounding board in this episode. People like to argue that Zuko takes Katara down a “dark path,” but he seems to me more like a beacon in the midst of her turmoil. Placing him next to her, it’s a poke to the audience. Remember? Zuko said not so many episodes ago that he was mad at himself. By the time he joins the gaang, his anger has clearly been redirected at his father; it’s closer now to the anger that Katara most often feels, that hopeful, life giving anger. And allowing Zuko to guide her through this side quest is a reassurance: Katara will work through her anger too.

At the end of the episode, Katara says she’s ready to forgive Zuko. I think this is why people take at face value that she was genuinely angry with him, that her anger at him was a pure expression of her rage and hurt and not a muddied one. But I’d argue that her verbal forgiveness of him isn’t about his “betrayal,” it’s about the themes of the episode - she’ll probably never forgive Yon Rha, she says, a vow to remember the wrongs done in the past - but by forgiving Zuko, she’s saying that she’s willing to collaborate for a better Fire Nation of the future, a more just world. And now that she’s been able to confront and work through her anger at herself, she’s in a balanced place to do so.

Honestly, I think if the true source of Katara’s l anger about all this really was Zuko, they wouldn’t have the relationship that they do by the end of the show. They clearly really trust each other and care about each other by the end, and I think that if Katara really felt betrayed like she says, she would have held back her heart a little bit, keeping them at allies but never quite friends.

And ya know what? This is one of those episodes of ATLA that refuses to spoon feed you the answers, which I really like. It offers a lot of subtext for good, old fashioned analysis and argument, and it’s why it’s one of my favorite episodes - plus it’s an episode that REALLY brilliantly puts the focus on Katara and complicates her character, and I love that. 

[mywhisperingwords]

lost mail | fred g. weasley

summary: after a bad break up you try to get rid of the memories, instead you find something that turns your life upside down word count: 4.3k masterlist

You cannot remember why you chose to keep every little piece of your life.

That was the only thought in your mind while you went through every box you kept in your attic. And every box came with the memories.

You couldn’t decide if you were grateful for it or if you hated it.

At the front of the attic were the newest memories you have kept, the ones who were involving the one person you were trying to forget.

The person who was at fault in the first place for you being up here and going through every box.

It hadn’t even been a week since the person you truly loved at one point told you that they were moving on, packing up their bags and that there was no space for you in those plans.

You were lying if you said you weren’t hurt, but you knew that you should be more devastated by this. Deep down you already knew that that ending was inevitable. And maybe you had made peace with that a long time ago.

And if you were truly honest with yourself, maybe you never really loved that person at all. How could you love a person that never truly saw you?

Giving yourself up and everything you stood for just to not be alone? You were foolish to believe that it could work.

You decided to make a clean cut. And that involved getting rid of the boxes that kept pieces of the memories you wanted to forget.

But once you started going down the memory lane, you couldn’t stop.

In every box were pieces of people you had not seen in a lifetime, at least that’s what it felt like to you.

These boxes had hidden secrets in them, ones you almost forgot but never really could. Like the coin that used to be your lucky charm, the one you would always carry around.

The castle was quiet at this time of night.

Not a soul around, just you and the moon.

You weren’t the kind of person who could easily break the rules, but at nights where you couldn’t sleep the only thing to help was to take a walk around the deserted hallways.

Never before have you been caught, but luck didn’t seem to be on your side tonight.

The sudden sound of footsteps made you stop in your tracks and with them came the one and only Fred Weasley.

He ran right past you, straight into the empty classroom behind you.

Before you could process that, Snape was in front of you.

“What are you doing wandering this castle at night?” he asked you, hair a mess and just a tad out of breath. He had been seemingly chasing after Fred.

“I was just thirsty,” you lied straight through your teeth, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

Snape on the other hand did not look impressed with your lie, but he seemed to have more important matters to tend to. “This is of no interest to me. Have you noticed someone running this way?”

“Have you lost someone, Professor?” you joked, immediate regret following with the way Snape looked at you. “I did, he ran that way,” you said, pointing in the opposite direction.

“If I ever see you again wandering the castle at night or see you misstep in any way, you will have detention for the rest of the school year. Also ten points lost. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir,” you replied, no longer finding joy in this situation.

Snape turned around before the words left your mouth, having no use for you anymore.

After he was out of sight, you knocked softly on the door of the classroom Fred was in. “You can come out, he’s gone,” you said in a hushed tone.

The door opened with caution, and you were looking at the grinning face of the red head. “Well, hello there and thank you from the bottom of my heart, love,” he said, sending you a wink that made your eyes roll.

“I think you owe me one,” you told him, taking a step back so he could step out of the room.

“Oh, I’d do anything for you,” he agreed, his grin widening even more if that was even possible.

“A normal person would offer money or something,” you hushed, with flushed cheeks. Never before have you been at the receiving end of the Weasley charm.

“Sorry to disappoint, but I do have…,” he rummaged through his pockets, fishing out one coin of a currency you did not recognize, “I have that.”

He offered it up to you, but you pushed his hand back to him, saying “I was only joking.”

“Maybe, but I’m not,” he said before taking your hand and placing the coin in it, closing your hand around it.

The brush of his hand was gone in a second, but something about it settled into your skin, a warmth you couldn’t shake even as you put the coin in your pocket.

“It’s my lucky charm, so you better keep it safe,” he said in mock seriousness, before turning around and walking away.

“I’ll try my best, Weasley,” you murmured as you watched him go.

You closed your fist around the coin, imaging that it still carried the warmth of Fred, but it did not. It was cold in your hand, leaving you feeling guilty when you remembered that you hadn’t been around at the shop as much as you used to.

It wasn’t that you had ignored him intentionally—you’d just been caught up in work and your relationship.

The same relationship Fred had disapproved of from the beginning. But you were determined to make it work, because that’s the kind of person you were.

You took crumbs of love and affection and tried to turn them into something more, desperately holding onto someone who did not even look back as they left.

Fred knew you better than anyone, and he’d told you this wasn’t right for you. But he’d respected your decision.

Still, it had put a strain on your friendship. Now, you felt a sudden urge to go and apologize, to make things right. But you didn’t—you were too much of a coward to admit you’d been wrong, especially so soon after the breakup.

You always used to be like that when it came to arguments, even if you knew deep down you were wrong, you still carried on. Maybe it was because you were telling yourself that sometimes it was better for everyone if you just ignored the truth—a tendency you also had when it came to other things.

“Why can’t you just admit you were wrong?” Fred asked, shaking with laughter.

You crossed your arms, turning your head to the side, trying to stifle a smile. “Because I’m not.”

“Yes, you are,” he insisted, tugging on your arm like a child begging for sweets. “Just admit it. Admit it. Admit it. Admit it. Admit it.”

You kept your mouth shut, unwilling to give in. But despite yourself, you couldn’t help smiling at his antics.

“There it is!” he crowed in victory, as though your smile was all he’d been after.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” you said, no longer able to hold back a laugh.

He gasped dramatically, placing a hand on his heart. “You wound me.” Dropping down beside you, he put on his saddest face. “I’m leaving soon, and all you can do is insult me. How terrible of you.”

You shook your head, though his words struck a pang in your chest.

It was true. In less than a month, Hogwarts would no longer echo with the laughter of Fred and George. They would leave to open their shop and leave everything—including you—behind.

This was Fred’s dream, and you supported him wholeheartedly, but the ache of his coming departure had settled inside you and refused to go away. You knew it would linger, long after he was gone.

“Don’t remind me. It won’t be long now,” you muttered, a grimace on your face.

He nudged you gently, offering a smile of his own. “Don’t be sad. Once you graduate, you can come work for me and George. You could even move in with us.”

A chuckle escaped your lips. “Where? In your room?” You knew their flat above the shop only had two bedrooms.

“I wouldn’t say no,” he winked at you.

All you could do was stare at him, needing a moment to process his words.

The idea of moving in with Fred warmed your cheeks, and your mind couldn’t help wandering to the idea of a life together.

But that’s all it was—a fantasy.

“Very funny, you git,” you laughed, trying to defuse the tension that had appeared for just a moment. Moments like these seemed to happen more often lately.

There were times when Fred said something that could have meant more, only for you to turn it into a joke. It was easier that way—or at least, that’s what you told yourself to not have your heart be broken by false hope. Because this was Fred, he was just joking around, nothing more. That’s just what he did.

Fred took the lifeline you threw him, laughing along before saying, “I’m not the one who said Chocoballs are better than Jelly Slugs.”

And just like that, your old argument started up again.

Maybe in a few weeks, you’d be ready to face Fred. For now, you kept sifting through memories in the quiet of the attic, where the evening sun cast a warm glow.

There were so many pictures and keepsakes from the past few years, and looking at them now, a sense of dread washed over you. Years spent giving your love to someone who had never deserved it.

One box was filled with old parchments, overflowing with thoughts—a diary of your mind. It was a habit you had given up soon after meeting your ex, who never understood its importance. Not like someone else, someone special.

In another box, you stumbled upon an old photo from your days at Hogwarts, familiar faces you hadn’t seen in ages smiling back at you. Underneath it lay another photo, this one taken by an unknown person—a candid shot of you and Fred. You still remembered the day it was taken.

Sitting by the Great Lake in your favorite hidden spot, you couldn’t put your quill down. So many thoughts were swirling around your head that you needed to pour them all out.

That’s how Fred found you.

“Slow down, you might set the paper on fire,” he teased, a smile on his face. You jumped at the sound of his voice, not having noticed his arrival.

“Merlin, you scared me,” you sighed, looking up at him. His hair was disheveled, the top buttons of his shirt were undone, and his tie was slung over his shoulders.

Before you could ask what happened, he settled next to you on the stone, asking curiously, “What are you writing, anyway?”

“Anything and everything,” you told him earnestly.

“Huh?”

“I’m writing down every thought I have—it makes it easier to sort through the mess,” you explained, looking out at the water, a little nervous about his reaction to your strange habit.

You did not dare tell him that most of these thoughts involved him.

But his answer surprised you. “You’re a clever one, aren’t you?”

You turned to him, confusion written on your face.

Fred scratched the back of his head, his tone softer. “I mean… I get it. I’ve got a million things going on in my head all the time. Putting them down isn’t a bad idea.”

You hummed, a gentle smile tugging at your lips. “Maybe you should take my advice, then,” you said with a wink.

That made him laugh. “Maybe I should.”

A comfortable silence settled over you before you quietly confessed, “It’s also the only way to make my mind go quiet.”

Fred didn’t answer right away; instead, he stared out at the lake, watching the afternoon sun dance on the water.

But you were watching him, admiring the way his brows knitted and his lips—just the perfect shade of pink—pursed in thought. That look of quiet concentration made him more handsome than ever.

The silence stretched on, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It felt like the perfect expression of the connection you shared: the way you could sit together for hours without speaking a single word and still feel content.

When Fred finally spoke again, you nearly missed it. “I have you for that.”

You didn’t even remember seeing anyone there with a camera, but you were grateful now for the photo they’d captured of you and Fred. Those were the moments you cherished most.

Beside the picture lay a stack of your old schoolbooks. As you picked up Advanced Potion-Making, a small note slipped out and fluttered to the floor. Your name was written on it in familiar handwriting, though you couldn’t recall what it was.

With a sense of curiosity mixed with something heavier, you unfolded the paper, revealing a handwritten letter addressed to you.

May 1996

My love,

you’re surly wondering why I’m writing you a letter but I was told by someone special that sometimes putting words on paper was the only way to sort though the mess in your mind, and that mess has been there ever since the day I met you.

I know that this is sudden but also not…

There has always been something between us, ever since I first saw you in that hallway when I was running away from Snape.

Ever since that night I couldn’t get you out of my head to the point George wanted to kick me out of our room, because all I was talking about was you.

I've been carrying this secret for a while now. I kept telling myself it would fade or that maybe it was just a momentary feeling. But here I am, still reeling from it every time I see you smile, or when your hand brushes against mine. It's as if my heart can't help but leap toward you, even though you're already so close.

I have known you now for so long and you’re still all I think about.

I don't think I tried to fall in love with you, yet here I am, helplessly yours in every way that matters.

Even if all we ever are is friends, l'll still be grateful to have you in my life. If there's even the smallest part of you that feels the same... then I want you to know that l'll be here, waiting.

I’m leaving tomorrow, I know that this is sudden and might be already too late or maybe this is the perfect moment.

Maybe in a year, after you graduate, you will be working with me and George, share a room with me, like we talked about and make me the happiest person every day just by being with me—in any way you want.

Anyways, I’m waiting for you at our spot.

Don’t leave me hanging.

Yours, always,

Freddie

You never knew.

Tears had fallen onto the letter, and you hadn’t even realized you were crying.

All these years, and you’d never known about this letter.

All these years, and you’d never given Fred an answer.

What must he have thought? That you ignored him? That you didn’t feel the same? That you’d simply left him waiting alone in your spot?

Your throat tightened, and your heartbeat quickened. With trembling hands, you read the letter again. And then again. Making sure that the words were real, not some figment of your imagination.

He had to watch you fall in love with someone else.

That thought shattered you. Pressing a hand to your chest, you tried to contain the pain spreading through you, tightening around your heart.

With shaky legs, you stood, clutching the letter tightly, and walked away.

&

You found yourself in Diagon Alley, moving toward a place you hadn’t visited in ages. You weren’t sure how you’d ended up here—you only knew you had to come.

The shop was dark, already closed, but the door was unlocked, left open until they finished their work in the back. An old habit, one you knew well.

Because you knew Fred.

He had been the one constant in your life, someone you’d always loved, though you’d convinced yourself it wasn’t meant to be, forcing yourself to move on.

But the letter in your hand told you how wrong you had been.

Rounding the counter, you found the office. A soft orange glow seeped out from under the door, accompanied by the faint scratch of quill on parchment.

You hadn’t planned what to say—all you had was the letter, clutched tightly in your hand. Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open.

“George, I told you—” Fred began, looking up from his papers. His brows furrowed as he took in your disheveled hair and red eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I didn’t know,” you whispered, stepping further into the office. The familiar scents of smoke and cider surrounded you, grounding you.

“What?” His voice was gentle, but cautious.

“I didn’t know you loved me,” you replied, holding up the letter.

You saw realization dawn on his face, the moment he understood what you were holding. He shot up from his chair, his breath shaky, though he didn’t speak.

“I just found it, and I—I didn’t know,” you repeated, needing him to understand.

You needed him to know that you never meant to cause him pain—that you had never intended to leave him waiting alone by your spot at the Great Lake.

Tears blurred your vision as you repeated the same words, over and over, like a mantra: “I didn’t know.” They were all you could cling to as you trembled, heart pounding, unraveling in front of him.

Only when you felt Fred’s strong arms enfold you did the world seem to steady, his soft whispers reaching you through the haze. “It’s okay,” he murmured, “shh…it’s okay.”

You pressed your face into his chest, clutching his shirt as the letter crumpled in your hand. His voice anchored you, each word a lifeline as you soaked his shirt with your tears. Every emotion crashed over you at once. Regret, anger, grief and fear.

Fred never stopped murmuring reassurances, nor did he release you from his embrace. Only when your sobs quieted did he gently ease you back, his gaze searching yours. “We should talk,” he said softly.

And that’s how you found yourself curled up beside him on a small, well-worn sofa in his living room, a cup of tea warming your hands. The letter lay on the table before you, a tangible reminder of the conversation he’d been waiting years to have.

For a long time, neither of you spoke. The silence felt heavy, filled with everything you needed to say but didn’t know how to begin.

At last, you broke it, voice barely above a whisper. “We broke up.”

If Fred was surprised, he didn’t show it, merely nodding, acknowledging your words with quiet understanding.

He sat beside you, though with a safe, careful distance—as if he feared getting too close too soon.

“It never would’ve worked, you were right.” You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, studying his familiar face, still as warm as you remembered. “I think I was trying to turn nothing into something more. Trying to make it work, because that’s just what I do.”

He looked down, fidgeting with his long fingers, a habit you’d always known. He didn’t look at you, but somehow you felt his attention, unwavering.

“I don’t know if I loved-,” you cut yourself off. “I just had to move on from you, that’s all I knew,” you confessed quietly, feeling shame. “When I was cleaning out old things, I found all these memories… I found this.” You pointed to the letter on the table, the heart of it all.

You took a deep breath, preparing for the hardest part of all. “I never saw it before, and when I read it…” You laughed, a sad, soft sound. “It was everything I ever wanted. And I didn’t even know I could’ve had it.”

A tear slipped down your cheek as you whispered, “If only I’d known… I would’ve been there. I would’ve done anything. You must have thought I was heartless. You must have hated me.”

Fred’s voice was soft when he replied, “I could never hate you.” He set his tea aside, finally meeting your gaze with an intensity that made your heart stutter. “I assumed you just… didn’t feel the same. That maybe it was too hard to tell me that to my face. But I never hated you, not for one moment.”

You shook your head, needing him to understand. “If I had known—”

But Fred shook his head, stopping you. “In time, I accepted that loving you from afar was all I could do, and I knew that keeping even a small part of you was better than losing you entirely.”

The weight of his words sank in, each syllable touching something deep within you. Could he still love you, after all this time? The thought was terrifying and exhilarating, both the possibility of an answer and the risk of rejection. But there was a way to show him how you felt, one you’d kept close for years. Reaching into your pocket, you took out the coin he had given you so long ago.

A spark of hope glimmered in Fred’s eyes as he took it in, the recognition softening his features. “You kept this? After all these years?”

“You told me not to lose it,” you replied, your voice tender with a hint of a smile.

He took the coin from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours, leaving a familiar warmth that seemed to linger in the space between you.

“But you never were a very good listener,” Fred teased, his familiar grin reappearing for the first time that evening, making your heart flutter. In that moment, you saw not just the man sitting beside you, but the boy you had fallen for so many years ago.

Though it had been months, maybe years, since you’d spent time together as you should have, he still felt like home.

His soft brown eyes, the faint crinkles at their corners, the freckles scattered across his face like constellations, and his flaming-red hair, now grown longer—he was so much the boy you’d once known, and yet now a man, shaped by life and loss, sitting close enough to touch.

“What happens now?” you asked, voice quiet, as if afraid to disturb the fragile peace of this moment. But you needed to know. This was new and terrifying, and all you wanted was for him to take your hand and assure you everything would be alright.

“Whatever you want,” he replied simply.

But what you wanted wasn’t simple at all. You wanted him in every way you’d ever dreamed, to be by his side and share in his life. You wanted him to hold you as you mourned the years lost to another, yet you couldn’t find the words to ask it of him.

Fred understood, as he always did. “If you want to be with me, we’ll make it work. And if you need time, I’ll give you that.” He gently took your hand in his, his touch a silent promise. “I’ve waited years. I can wait a little longer.”

“I don’t want to wait,” you assured him immediately, your voice filled with the weight of all the years you had spent denying yourself this truth.

You could feel the shift in him, a warmth filling his gaze, his smile softening. Slowly, he leaned closer. “Are you sure?”

His voice sent shivers down your spine, his breath warm against your cheek. But your answer came without hesitation.

“About you? Always,” you whispered.

And that was when his lips met yours, a kiss so tender it felt like a wish made real, warm and gentle, a thousand memories woven into one perfect moment. His hand cupped your cheek, grounding you as you melted into him, your heart beating wildly in your chest.

His lips tasted of tea and something indescribably sweet, like warmth and comfort, like every dream you’d ever had of him. It was soft, unhurried, the years of yearning unfolding as his fingers brushed your skin, leaving a trail of warmth that you felt in every part of you.

When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, a mischievous grin lighting up his face as he whispered, “Took you long enough, didn’t it?”

All you could do was laugh, nudging him away before pulling him back in, savoring the warmth you’d both waited too long to feel.

Fred’s gaze fell on the letter lying on the table, the edges worn and softened from years of waiting. He ran his thumb over your hand, murmuring, “Funny how one piece of parchment kept us apart.”

You looked at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Guess it was just waiting for the right time.”

[whiskeynwriting]

Pure Ecstasy and Delight

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Female Reader

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Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)

A/B/O dynamics, Alpha!Simon, degradation, mask kink, breeding kink, some spit, marking, biting, dry humping, multiple orgasms/overstimulation, brief oral sex (f receiving), lmk if I missed anything!

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A/N: First ever A/B/O fic goes to the one and only Simon “Ghost” Riley. I'm sooo so new to this, so pls be kind 🥺❤️

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Simon “Ghost” Riley Masterlist

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It’s not enough, and yet, you don’t do anything to stop it. You’re the one continuing, actually, the one who chose this, the one that shoved him down onto the bed and climbed over him. It was as if you couldn’t think, like you weren’t right in the head. That familiar, hazy cloud was blinding, and Simon loved taking advantage of it. 

Watching you move over him like this isn’t anything new, it’s how most of your cycles started, actually. Being as close as physically possible to him, rubbing your body on him, begging for him. And he was cocky as all hell when seeing you like this. Even now, he’s laying there, one arm curled back to support his head. Every now and then, you hear - feel, a deep chuckle rumble through his chest. He likes this, likes being there for you through this. 

Your rushed and sloppy movements are dizzying, trying to get as much friction as possible while both of you are still fully clothed. Huffing out an exhausted breath, you fall forward onto him, resting over his chest. But you don’t stop moving. If anything, the heat coiling in your belly only burns brighter, hotter, your hips in constant motion. You’ve already cum once like this, and you’re sure you can do it again. Lazily, Simon’s free hand comes to rest on your hips, moving with your body while you thrust yourself onto him. And it’s only when you begin to whimper, that he finally speaks. 

“Look at you…” Ghost grumbles, eyes already half-lidded with want. “My perfect bitch in heat.”

Lifting your head, you rest your cheek against the hard shell of his mask, whining. Opening your mouth, your tongue lays out, licking a small stripe up the side of that alluring mask. The wet muscle roams the curves and divots there, and you end up keeping your mouth open for so long that saliva begins to drip onto him. It’s sloppy, it’s shameful, and he fucking loves it. 

One thing Simon absolutely adored about you, was that you didn’t act like the typical Omega. Upon your first meeting, he’d almost believed you were an Alpha, even a Beta, at least. But the smell you exuded when he was in your presence gave everything away. Nevertheless, you’re a feisty little thing, you fight for what you want; and you impressed him. Upon your first few intimate encounters, Ghost discovered that instead of laying down to submit, like any Omega would, you presented yourself to him. You’d lean forward on your knees, shoving your ass into the air and spreading yourself, fluttering and just waiting for him. You were so eager to have him, eager for him to have you. And clearly, nothing has changed.

Simon’s smell saturated every one of your senses, filling your body with pure ecstasy and delight. His body tensed beneath you, trying to restrain himself, trying to let you do this before he shoved you down and fucked you dumb. That was inevitable, of course, and he knows it’s exactly what you want. But he figures he’ll let you get this out of your system, too. 

By the time he found you, he’d actually felt bad. You were wandering the base, looking for him. He knew when your heat was due and you were shocked to not see him anywhere near you, which usually meant something important was keeping him busy. And when you finally discovered that he was in a meeting with Price, you marched back to his room to sulk. 

Piling up Simon’s dirty clothes, you plopped them onto his bed, nuzzling into them, humping them. You paid no mind to the sound of your own voice, nor how high it was becoming while you whined his name, begging for him to come back. And when he finally did, walking in on you like that… was quite the fucking sight. Sure, you’d made a small nest of his things in the past, but never before has he walked in on you rubbing yourself over them. As soon as Ghost stepped into his room, he could instantly smell the heat on you, and seeing his Omega so needy for him made his pride shine. The decision to walk in and let you do whatever you wanted to him before he laid you down to breed your pliant little body, was both easy and quick. 

“Simon,” Gasping against his faux face, you feel Ghost’s free hand slide up to your back, rubbing it kindly. 

“I’m here, love.” And for the first time tonight, he finally moves, pushing his hips up against you. “Do what you want,” He encourages sweetly, quietly. Turning his head, he rubs his forehead against your own, inhaling deeply. “Please yourself… let me see.” 

Finding the junction of his neck, your teeth come out, digging into his gland. You’ve given each other these bites before, marking the other as your mate. But every time you connect, you can’t help but do it again, claiming the other so physically, so carnally. Simon tilts his head back when you do it, too, displaying his throat for you. And all you do is bite, bite into his skin and suck on it until it’s purple and red, inhaling his scent, wanting to forever wear it. 

“Mouth,” Comes your sudden, soft cry. “I want your mouth.”

Simon grins. “Then find it.” 

As soon as he gives you permission, your hands are scrambling up his chest and to his neck, finding the edge of his covering and lifting it. He allows you to remove it completely, smiling at you in the dimness of his room. But you barely have time to admire his beauty before laying your palms on his face and diving down. In an instant, your lips are on his, mouths opening and swapping spit. Ghost lifts his chin then, meeting your movements. Your kisses were always sloppy, always hungry; and Simon loved it. The feeling of his mouth on your own after not seeing him for so long while you’ve needed him so bad, it sets your skin alight, fire burning beneath your outer layer and shooting right to your very soul. This is your partner, your mate, the one you’re bonded to. 

Simon’s groans echo into your mouth as you slowly devour him, shoving your tongue past his lips while breathing heavily against him. It aroused you both, the way he allowed this, allowed you to act out these aggressive bursts of arousal before he took control again. 

A chuckle rumbles from his throat when you suck his tongue past your lips, pulsing your own around the wet muscle. Your lover grins, voice deep as he says, “You like sucking on my tongue?”

“Yes, baby.” It’s the crack in your voice, the slight whimper that it is… that so easily displays your submissiveness. 

At that moment, Ghost’s hands slide beneath your shirt, touching the skin along your hips. And the sensation forces a shiver through your center, immediately leaning in to shove your face into his neck. 

“When’re you gonna let me take you, huh?” He asks lowly into your ear. “When’re you finally gonna stop with these horny little actions?”

“Now,” Instantly, you’re wanting to please him. “W-Whenever you want.”

With a harsh grunt, Simon is forcing you back and off of him, turning to toss you down onto his bed. Standing, he stares down at you, calming his own breaths while removing his shirt. He’s all too eager for this. And with a single nod and you’re undressing yourself, too, following his movements. You mirror him, doing as he does, removing each piece in the same fashion. 

“Like a lost puppy,” Simon grins, shaking his head. “Doing whatever I do, whatever I want you to do.”

All your response consists of is a slow nod, alongside those sweet, charming, doe-like eyes. And that drives him wild inside. 

Staring up at Simon, at the broad, strong man that he is, all you can feel is an overwhelming sensation of gratefulness. You feel insanely, incredibly, undeniably lucky. Simon is an amazing Alpha - he’s everything you could ever want. Strong, tall and broad, high-ranking and respected. Simon commanded any room he walked into, and it made you nearly fall to your knees the first time you met him. Thank god it didn’t take long for him to catch on to your likeness. But aside from all that, he cared for you, he provided for you. With him, you never had to want for anything. With him, you were safe. 

Tossing his items down on the bed, he makes sure to scatter them, laying them out in your nest. He knows the best smell will come from the most recent clothes he’s worn. His shirt, his pants, even his socks and boxers, all slightly damp from sweat and he knows the scent is sure to drive you mad. 

“God,” Inhaling a sharp breath, Ghost dives down, hovering over you and grabbing onto your jaw. Dark eyes rake over your features, over your naked body. “I fucking love you.” It’s the last thing he says before crushing his mouth to yours, spare hand sliding up to your chest. 

Beneath his fingertips, the ones wrapped around your jaw, he can feel your heartbeat. Oh, how rapid it becomes for him. And he can feel his own picking up speed, as well. The blood beneath his skin runs hot throughout his body, rushing wildly in his ears. The constant, powerful thump in his chest, the thrum of arousal flooding his crotch, it consumes him.

“Baby, ple-please.” With how ravenous his mouth has become, you can barely get a word out, let alone a proper breath. It’s all spit and tongue, your teeth clashing every now and then. He just wants to ravage you, break you apart so he can put you back together again. His passion is also evident in the way that he grabs you, fisting your breast in his hand. 

Before ripping himself away from you, Simon’s mouth slides down to your neck, lips dragging over the delicate skin before he reaches the junction of your shoulder. As soon as he’s there, he’s biting into you, teeth digging into your gland while inhaling the beautiful aroma you exude. The pain fades when your hips cant upwards, just barely able to rub against him. 

“Turn over,” Simon finally decides, forcing himself away from your neck. With heavy breaths, he backs away, giving you the room to move. “Present for me.” Simon always liked having you bent over on your knees.

Quickly, you scramble to satisfy him, turning over with a wild grin crossing your face. The way you arch your back has him groaning, one hand lifting to lazily swat at your ass. And even that light of a hit shows you how much strength his body possesses. You’re more than aware of that, of how powerful Simon’s body is, and still, you choose to be at his mercy. You want to be. Laid out for him to admire, for him to take. This powerful killer, holding everything that you are in the palm of his hand, it’s exhilarating. 

Reaching forward, Simon finds one of your hands, pulling it back until it’s on your ass. His silent gesture is clear as day to you, your fingertips digging into the plump skin to spread yourself open for him. 

“Thaaaaaat’s it,” Shuffling behind you, his breaths are audible, arousal flooding his body once again. “Just like that, wide open for me.”

Grabbing himself, you can hear just how slick he’s become, the squelch of his prespend beneath his moving fist. You’d give anything to see him right now, the redness of his head, veins throbbing throughout his shaft. But you don’t have time for that, not when you’re so visibly in heat. 

Ghost’s tip spreads your lips from behind, his eyes trained on where you’re due to connect. Unlike his normal antics, Simon doesn’t make you wait, he doesn’t tease you or tell you to beg. Right now, his Omega needs him. And so, he slides right in.

“Simon,” Your one hand grasps for the sheets, feeling how heavy he is inside. Turning your head, your cheek rests against his pillow, forcing an overload of Ghost’s scent through your system. It’s now that you smell his dampened clothes, his shirt and boxers laying just beside your face. Eyes closing, an incredibly wanton moan floats from your mouth, simply from experiencing it. 

“Oh… Christ.” Bottoming out, Simon grunts quietly, throbbing against your walls. You’ve taken him so many times that it’s an easy transition, feeling him fill you. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t an incredible stretch, the pleasure burning through your system from it. 

The sigh you exude is one of absolute pleasure and relaxation, your need finally being sated - for now. But at the moment, you’re just focusing on him, how he feels, how he holds you, those broad hands grabbing onto your hips. Forcing his pelvis forward, Simon grinds into you, his own jaw dropping. Almost as if he can’t help himself, he’s falling over you, firm chest pressing into your back. He holds his weight above your own, keeping you safe and surrounding you in his scent. 

“Baby,” Reaching back, you find his hair, fingers tangling into the golden locks sweetly. “My Alpha…”

And that ignites something inside him. Tilting his head downward, he drags his nose up your spine, lips landing on your shoulder blade. His breath tickles your skin, his barely-there stubble. One, strong pulse then resonates through him, feeling your walls hold him tight.

“I’m yours,” Ghost promises in that deep, baritone of a voice. “I am… and you’re mine.”

He continues to move, tilting his chin upward so he can kiss the back of your neck, breathing against you while wrapping his arms around your midsection. 

“Please,” You’d been doing your best to be well behaved for him, to not outwardly beg too much, but you need this. “Please, Simon. You’re here, you’re inside me… I need you.”

A small snarl spills from his lips as he pulls out about halfway before shoving himself back in. And from the start, his pace is brutal, skin hot to the touch as it rubs along your own. His breaths are ragged and deep, eyes watching the way your backside bounces against him. Already, he can hear your panting, slithering a hand down to your clit so he can hear you whine. 

“That easy, huh?” He goads, feeling your body shake after only a few circles around the sensitive bud. “Perfect little slag.” Leaning in, Simon plants a sloppy kiss onto your cheek, urging you on. “Cum on me, love. Feels so good when you do.” 

“S-Simon,” It’s all you need to unravel, your thighs shaking from the pleasure and his brute force. He’s already punching himself against that pleasurable spot deep inside your walls, his fingers pressing harder against your clit. 

He can feel the way you spasm around him, can feel the slickness of your arousal coating his shaft. But he doesn’t stop, he rides you through it, fucking himself into you again and again. 

“Good little Omega,” Ghost purrs against your cheek, lowering his head to bite into your neck. 

Your eyes have rolled back into your head, pleasure reaching every one of your nerve endings. It washes over your body, through your hips, your limbs, up through your chest. It feels explosive, and satisfying, a start to fully satiating the primal need growing in your belly. 

With your body going relatively limp, Simon lifts himself from you, one hand staying on your hips to hoist you further into the air. And then his other is grabbing the back of your neck and forcing your face into the mattress, into the wet clothes he’d added to your nest. The motion is surprisingly rough, igniting a new spark already licking up your spine. 

“Smell it.” Simon demands, pushing your face into the fabric. “Smell me - scent yourself with it.”

He can barely hear your moans, every beautiful sound and deep inhale muffled by the fabric. This is all you want, to be covered in it, in him. There hasn’t been a single day where you haven’t been elated to wear to his scent, to show the world you’re taken. And not just by anyone, but by him. 

“Listen to you,” He’s panting out every breath, pumping himself into your welcoming walls. “So fucking wet. How many times have you cum, love? Two, maybe three?” And then he finds himself overcome with the urge to taste, to lick up the arousal spilling between your legs.

“Baby,” Your whine is high and shrill, feeling empty without him.

“Hush,” Ghost returns firmly, pulling out and bending down. 

Little time goes by before your questions disappear, feeling Simon’s mouth connect with your pink lips.

“Oh…” Slumping down, you sigh, relaxing into his touch. 

Holding your hips, Simon presses his face into you, licking into your hole. He can taste the remnants of your orgasm, can smell your combined scent. The sloppy squelch of his insistent mouth against your sex can be heard throughout the room, forcing a delicious smirk across your lips. But the knot building at the base of his shaft forces him back up, diving between your legs once again. 

“G-Ghost, Simon!” With the combination of his mouth and cock, you’re near overstimulation. 

“It’s so goddamn easy,” Shaking his head, he laughs. “You cum so easy like this.” And when you’re in heat, how can you not? 

“M-More,” Your arms are trembling, feeling absolutely conquered by your mate. But still, you’re hungry, wanting.

“What? Has my sweet Omega not had enough?”

“I need more.” Groaning, you toss your head back, feeling Simon’s chest return. 

“I’ll give you more.” Simon snarls against your ear, biting into it. And then he’s returning to the marks he’s already made, teeth imprinting into your skin, blossoming bruises just beneath the surface. There’s one bite in particular that draws blood and has you shrieking, Simon’s tongue lapping at it shortly after. 

“I can f-feel it.”

“Yeah? You feel it growing?” 

“I want it.”

“I know you do, and I’m gonna give it to you. Fill you, fuck you full and plug you with it.” His promises are spoken through quiet gasps, his own high nearing. “Christ, I need this. Always will… gorgeous, wet fucking hole. I’ll always need you.”

Listening to him say he needs you, that he needs this connection with you, makes your entire head spin. Tears form near the lashes along your eyes, feeling safe and secure with him, wanted by him. 

“Simon, please. Give it to me.” Every vein, every heavy pulse, are all felt along your velvety walls. 

All Simon can smell is you, your sweet aroma. He salivates at the sensation of it, wanting nothing more than to claim it for himself. And he’s glad to do so, over and over again. It’s addictive - you draw him in like some seductive siren, appearing so charming and innocent. And to an extent, you are, until that filthy side comes out.

“Fuck,” Your lover grunts, voice slightly higher as he breathes out the word. 

The knot growing at his base is slowly but surely catching on the thin rim of your lips, the feeling painful but worth it. The heat radiating from your body spills over to him, warming him, telling Simon’s body that it’s safe to release. 

Hard and sharp thrusts burst from his pelvis, forcing his flushed cock into your slick entrance. It’s delicious, the euphoria coursing through him, his jaw dropping, eyes drooping. Now that he’s fulfilled your need, his duty to you during this time, he becomes selfish. Pressing himself flush against your plush backside, Simon stills, body trembling. His base swells, knot plugging your entrance while he floods your insides. Strong hips rock against your own, pumping his spend into you, feeling it rush from his tip. 

“Alpha,” It’s the only thing spilling from your lips, your sex throbbing fiercely around him. 

“G-Give it to you, I’ll give it to you. Keep you full, breed this cunt.” 

“Simon,” Crying out softly for him, you feel his body begin to fully relax, breaths puffing out of his chest. It feels warm, your insides coated in a thick layer of his arousal. 

“Mine, always mine. Always, love.”

“I know,” Nodding, you sigh out, feeling his lips kiss along your back. “Always.” 

At this point, you expect to rest, feeling his weight crush you comfortably until the swelling at his base subsides. But to your surprise, he pulls you back, maneuvering the two of you down onto the bed. Simon keeps your back against his chest, holding you from behind and finally allowing you to relax. 

Ghost knows you’ll need more, and he’ll give it to you when he can. But for now, he holds you, face dipping down to find the marks he’s left on your skin. With long, slow movements, he licks them, showing the slightest bit of remorse. 

“Was I too hard on you?”

“No, no, not at all.” A bright smile forms on your lips, admiring his gentler side. “You know I love it, Si.” 

“Mm,” Humming quietly, Ghost closes his eyes, keeping himself between your legs while mending the indentations he’s left in your skin. 

If anyone were to walk into the room right now, it’d wreak of arousal and sweat, of adoration and commitment. But neither of you have to worry about that, few people on base would dare to interrupt this. One of your most intimate moments, shared just between the two of you. Once again, you feel lucky, covered completely by your Alpha and his scent, filled with everything he has to give. 

“I’ll be here when you wake,” Ghost promises, kissing your neck, your cheek. “I’ll take care of you.” 

[halfmoonaria]

not allowed

pairing: prof!sam carpenter x student!female reader

summary: sam does something thats certainly not allowed.

words: 2k

warnings: age gap, sexual content, language.

Sam's love life was completely dull and uneventful, it was something she's very self aware of.

It was almost tragic how lonely she was.

Although she knew she should have had an active love life; being a professor brought opportunities for intellectual conversations, networking events, and collaborative projects, which should've brought at least some kind of connections to her.

But it didn't.

All of Sam's colleagues were polite and all, but they were all so much older than her, she couldn't find herself relating to relate to any of them.

And besides, dating wasn't her thing. Since the last time she had thought she found the right person, she almost ended up dead along with her sister.

Sam could never trust anyone enough to date them. All the blame for the lack of trust rested on her previous psycho ex.

Richie had left a scar on her body, and it wasn't in the form of a stab wound.

Despite the loneliness and the lack of company, Sam loved her job.

She loved the subject she was teaching, and her colleagues were actually pretty decent.

The biggest bonus was that she got a good paycheck. She didn't have to work two jobs that could barely pay the rent for her and Tara's apartment.

And to Sam's own surprise and satisfaction, the students didn't seem to whisper about her or spread the rumors that had been on the internet ever since the murders in Woodsboro.

Most of Sam's classes were filled with jocks, party-goers or just genuinely stupid people. After all, the school she taught at had a reputation for attracting a more socially-oriented crowd rather than focusing on academic excellence.

Sam wasn't really the kind of teacher that had a big connection with her classes, sure she would crack awkward jokes in class occasionally and greet them in the hall, but no more than that.

It never felt important to her, she was there to teach, to work and to get her salary.

But then there was you.

Sam never payed attention to the people that entered the classroom, or on what place they chose to sit in for the rest of the lesson. But with you, she did.

You had caught her attention the second her eyes got in contact with your figure. It had been when she was about to introduce herself in front of the class, her first day.

The way you had looked at her when she spoke didn't make you seem like the cocky or popular type, however the outfits you chose to wear to school told her otherwise.

Skirts that were either the size of a belt or skirts that would totally show your entire ass if you bent over the slightest. And if it wasn't minimal skirts it was low waisted jeans that showed the top of your underwear.

Tiny and tight crop tops that would show the exact outline and shape of your breasts.

Sam was shocked when she found out the college didn't have a dress code, since it allowed students like you to dress like models straight out from a 90s porno.

Based on the choice of clothing you thought was school appropriate, made Sam think that you were one of those popular mean girls that she used to absolute gush over in high school.

But you didn't seem to be like that. Sure, you were popular, but that was because of your prettiness, not because you were rude or that people were scared of you. Because in fact, nobody was scared of you.

You were loyal. You were friends with technically everyone, including the teachers.

From what Sam had seen in the halls and in the classroom, you always had a smile on your face, greeting everyone you saw with a wave and the smile that looked as if the person you were talking to had hung the stars.

Sam thought it was impressive how much beauty can do for a person. The way everybody loved you because you were pretty, everybody.

Although Sam didn't think much about your scandalous outfits or the way you admired Sam every time she made eye contact with you during briefings.

Not until you had began to walk towards her desk after class had been finished.

The way you would call her 'Mrs Carpenter'. Just like you should've, just like everyone else did, yet it sounded so different.

At first it had only been a simple question about an assignment, but then you started to stop by after every single lesson.

Sam tried to act like normal, responsible. But it was almost impossible when you would slightly lean forward, basically forcing Sam's gaze to your chest. Your hushed and low voice did it for her as well. You talked as if it was secret, as if nobody else was allowed to hear.

She was starting to think that it was all on purpose, that it was all because you wanted a better grade that you couldn't accomplish by yourself.

Sam knew for a certain that she wouldn't give in, she wouldn't give in because you tried to 'flirt' with her, it might've worked with your other professors but it definitely wouldn't work with her.

Sam was stubborn and incredibly obstinate, but she was also very insecure, alongside having no self respect. Most times when she would tell herself to avoid doing something, her lack of confidence would make her do it regardless.

Weeks passed and you didn't stop. You asked Sam for help after every single class.

You spoke to her in a flirty and hushed voice,  Sam had tried to talk back normally, but she would be lying if she couldn't hear her own voice sounding flirty as well.

Sam didn't know what she was doing, you were her student. But you made it so incredibly difficult for her to act like it.

You were gorgeous, model material. But that wasn't the problem. The problem was that you were aware of it, you knew how pretty you were, you knew exactly how to act around people to get your way.

She couldn't understand what was happening, but when you were with her, Sam felt this subtle flutter whenever you approached or just looked at her.

Sam had never felt that feeling before, not even when she was with Richie.

So instead of telling herself you did that with all your teachers, she began thinking that maybe, just maybe you did it because you actually liked her. Even though it wasn't allowed.

Sam was starved. Not from food starvation or hunger, but from love and touch. And she knew it was wrong to think that way when it was about you, it was so wrong.

But it was just thoughts right? Nobody could hear them.

That's what she had thought, but it was like you could read her mind.

Your attempts of trying to make Sam give in got more and more intense. You would touch her hands, standing close up to her and compliment her.

Eventually, Sam's mouth had moved faster than her mind could process. She had accepted your request for her to tutor you.

Sam knew that you didn't actually want tutoring, you were passing the subjects enough to graduate, unlike everybody else in your class. She knew that this was your attempt to flirt even more.

She knew she should've cancelled. The thought still haunted her, what would've happened if she did? Everything would've been so different.

However, Sam didn't cancel. And it turned out exactly like she thought it would.

You had insisted to sit beside her, and not in front of her. You would make sure your arms touched, that you spoke closely to her ear, you would bite your lips and toe flirt with her.

You were bold, so bold that it made you look hotter than Sam thought was possible.

Sam was desperate for something to change so she wouldn't feel the desire to be touched. Her body was craving a touch that wasn't from herself, not from anybody but you.

She felt disgusted by her own thoughts, every single thought her mind managed to convey was about you.

Next thing she knew, your lips had landed on hers. And Sam just couldn't pull away, her mind wasn't working properly. She had kissed you back.

But when her mind started to fall back in place, she pulled away, panic rushing through her as she had scanned the place, making sure nobody had seen it.

She had kissed her student, in a library. A public library.

Her mind had done this before. When she had been on top of Richie, knife going in and out of his chest, blood being the only thing that could be seen. It was like a blackout, Sam didn't know what she was doing, but at the same time, she knew exactly. But it had felt too good to stop. Just like it had been with you.

When you got the confirmation of Sam wanting the same thing, you had pulled her into the bathroom stall, where Sam couldn't help but kiss you just as hungrily as she had done in her disgusting thoughts.

Nothing mattered when your hands were roaming her body. The fact that you were her student and she was your teacher didn't seem to matter at all in that moment.

Sam couldn't understand what her mind was doing to her. This was like another one of those blackouts, where she couldn't think about the consequences of the things she was doing.

Like now, when she found herself in her own bed tangled up in the sheets, with you next to her.

Bare.

Her mind was all over the place. Thoughts racing through her mind like the traffic in New York, making her head feel like it was about to explode.

She couldn't show you the panic she was feeling about the whole situation. Because that would make you think she regretted it. And she didn't, god no she didn't.

You were so gentle yet bold at the same time. You made sure to ask for permission before doing everything, but you did everything so well.

Your touch was everything Sam's body had craved for months, it was nothing like she had done before. Your touch basically boiled on her skin.

You worshipped Sam in ways she didn't even know existed. The ways you touched her felt so good that she couldn't begin to understand what you were doing.

It had all felt so good that Sam could barely remember it. She remembered moaning, she remembered the satisfaction in it all; the warmth, the passion and the wetness.

Looking down at your figure laying against her, legs tangled up in each other, to see that your eyes were already on her. Your beautiful eyes filled with curiosity and admiration was inspecting her face, fingers smoothly running through her hair.

"What're you thinking about?" Your voice came out as a whisper, voice cracking from the lack of talking; words had not been the priority just minutes before.

When Sam made eye contact with you, all the worries faded away. She could be fired because of this, because of you, yet you were the person who could make the worries bluntly disappear.

Sam's lips curled into a gentle smile when she looked at you, bringing up her finger to subtly caress your cheek. "That this won't help you get a better grade.." She lied, a faint laugh escaping from her lips.

You smirked up at her before planting a kiss on her lips. "Please Mrs Carpenter. I promise I'll do better next time." Sarcasm laced your voice, and if Sam hadn't heard that, she would be panicking.

The fact that you had called her 'Mrs Carpenter' made her stomach twirl, sparkles flying around in it. Just like it had done when you moaned it a few minutes ago.

Although the twirls quickly turned into guilt. She shouldn't be doing this, she shouldn't be in bed with you, let alone be in her own apartment with you.

It truly didn't matter how many excuses she tried to make for herself, it wasn't right, and she should've been disgusted with herself.

She was a professor at a college who had fucked her student. And for obvious reasons, that just wasn't allowed.

[badasscoffeemug]

okay, so, i tried to pull as many interviews as i could to see if i could parse what the original plan for bucktommy was (or if there even was any), and subsequently, if there had been a pivot of any kind. now, we are not privy to any bts talk, and storylines are never set in stone, even from when they've been teased or promoted (henchim friction? hello?) but interviews are really all we have to go off of. so, idk, i compiled some quotes, all bolded emphasis is mine.

i kinda got the impression that it really was supposed to be a 4-episode arc for tommy, after which he would gracefully bow out and leave buck a newly realized single bisexual. for some reason, that changed and they chose to keep him around and extend that storyline (gelled rather well in the story? opening the door for potential future storylines?). except then they had them break up anyway, leaving buck in much the same place he would have been had they called it quits in 7x06, only much more heartbroken (essentially wasting over half a season's worth of buck storyline, except he's sadder now, i guess). but, judge for yourself.

march 28, 2024, TM: Showrunner Tim Minear also teased future episodes for Tommy. “He’s going to be around for a little bit. He’s not going to be a member of the 118 again, but he is going to be involved in some stories.”

april 4, 2024, TM: “I was kind of bored with the hamster wheel of the relationships [Buck] had been in. His story needed a slap. It needed some something fresh. This felt like it could be important to some people, and it felt like it was right for the character.”

OS: “I’ve always had in my head that I wanted a partner for Buck to be someone where it wasn’t easy”

TM: “That’s what I like about this. He’s not siloed off into some love interest story with a character who has nothing to do with the main characters.”

Minear noted that Tommy is currently an important romantic partner for Buck, largely because “it’s sort of the entry-level relationship.” Yet at the same time, he noted that he doesn’t think “anybody’s making wedding plans.”

“It really is a first fling for Buck right now. What that might amount to, only time can tell. But what I’m interested in is not something that’s fraught. I’m interested in something that’s tender and positive”

april 4, 2024, OS: “The focus was on it being important, but also not wanting it to feel like the bravest episode in television. We just wanted to tell a lighthearted love story that happens to be a queer love story.”

april 5, 2024, TM: “[what] I don't want to do is the mistake that I think we've made with some of the other love interests, which is siloing those characters off into their love life and they have no kind of organic connection to the rest of the characters in the story. [...] Going with Tommy allowed us to start to play a story without just inventing a whole new character just for the purpose of being the bi character or the gay character or the male love interest for Buck.”

april 12, 2024, TM: “that moment at the end of the episode where he sits down with Tommy and says, “You said I wasn’t ready. I don’t know what I’m ready for, but I’m ready for something. I’m just sure what that is yet.” But he feels safe with Tommy. So even though he doesn’t know exactly what road he’s stepping onto, he’s willing to roll the dice.”

april 12, 2024, LFJ: "So, it happens in phases. My manager said 9-1-1 called, and I was like, 'Cool.' And then he is like, 'All right, well, they called for an arc.' And I'm like, 'Four episodes? Cool.'

"Given the circumstances, we just kissed. There's something there. We go on a date, and then Eddie happens to show up because there's only one restaurant, I guess, in L.A., and I would totally understand if he was nervous and whatnot." (this quote has nothing to do with my point really i just think it's so fucking funny. this entire interview is so messy.)

"I have no idea," he explained when asked what the future could hold for the duo. "If the writers do choose to extend this storyline and make it into its own thing [...] I'm just as excited as you are to find out."

april 12, 2024, OS: "I just hope he continues down that path and I think we will see him opening up more and more, and being louder and prouder about it. I want to tell real stories where not everything is going to be straightforward, but I don’t want the angst or the trauma to be in these kind of negative troupes that we’ve seen before. I want them to have real world problems that couples or people who are first dating have, but I don’t want it to be rooted in outside people being homophobic or anything like that. Those are stories we have seen and we’ve told, and sure, of course, happen in the real world, but I want to tell a happy story between these people and a real story. They have issues and they have things to deal with, but I just want them to be real world, everyday relationship issues."

april 18, 2024, OS: "we want to tell it in an honest way where not everything is going to be easy and carefree. There are going to be issues, but we also don't want it to feel like it's down or too heavy. We want to tell this queer love story in a very honest way, but also in a very loving way."

"Tarlos is a beautiful relationship," Stark says. "I'm just honored to get to tell a story that can kind of partner up with that and maybe continue with a similar thread."

"I really want to see Buck continue to explore what it is that really speaks to him, and what he's into," Stark says. "He's obviously going to continue down this path with Tommy for now. I don't know what that story is going to end up being, but I would really like for Tommy to stay a part of Buck's life, regardless. He's obviously opened this door for him, and I think it would be really nice if [Tommy] was able to continue to hold [Buck's] hand and could help guide him through this process. As somebody who's a little older and more experienced, to kind of help shepherd Buck into this new phase of understanding who he is."

april 23, 2024, OS: “I really enjoy [Lou]. I really enjoy working with him. I think he’s been a great addition to the show, and I look forward to — assuming Tommy sticks around for a while — continuing to develop that relationship with him on-screen and off-screen.”

may 2, 2024, JLH: "I’m really excited for Buck, because I think he’s a person that has never quite settled into who he is. And if this is who he is, it’s beautiful,” Hewitt said. “I was so happy Maddie felt that way, because that’s how I would feel. And I’m really happy that she’s there for him. In Season 8, the actor hopes Maddie gets to “understand what all that means, be in that with [Buck], and get to know Tommy better.”

may 3, 2024, KC: “I think it was the brilliance of [co-creator] Tim [Minear]. Even introducing the storyline of Buck and Tommy, he said, "I don't want it to be this very special episode of 9-1-1. I'm going to make this a f---ing romantic comedy, man. You won't see it coming. It'll come out of left field." And I think that's the same thing he did with the revelation. There's no sit down, there's no big discussion or talk about it. It's what it would be. This guy has found love fina…. Well, I think love finally.”

may 3, 2024, KC: "When I heard about the storyline, I was super excited. And on a selfish note, I'm really happy because they brought Lou Ferrigno Jr. back. We've become really good friends, as he was in "Hen Begins," "Bobby Begins Again," and of course "Chimney Begins," and we formed a tight personal bond. I think he's a terrific actor, and I think this new dynamic brings this newfound energy into that storyline and into the show, and I'm excited to see how it blossoms."

not dated? post-7x06, KC: “It’s one of my favorite scenes,” Choi says. “It’s a reveal for most of the characters that Buck has found a love interest he’s actually interested in. It’s adorable, it’s cute, it’s perfect, and the audience is going to love it.”

OS: Stark likens Buck’s journey to “a hamster wheel”: “He’s been taking one step forward and two steps back, as is quite typical of being in your late 20s and early 30s, trying to find yourself,” the actor explains. “As we’ve moved into this seventh season, he’s found a way to really discover who he wants to be.”

july 8, 2024: 7x09 deleted scene released

september 9, 2024, TM: “They’re still getting to know each other a little better”

september 11, 2024, TM: Minear says not much time has passed between the events of the season 7 finale and the season 8 premiere, so there haven't been many developments in Buck and Tommy's relationship. "But we see that they're more comfortable together," he explains. "We'd definitely call them a couple. Obviously they're comfortable hanging out with Eddie, but when you couple with somebody, it takes up some of your time, so that also leaves Eddie a little bit out in the cold. Well, not out in the cold, but Buck doesn't have as much free time as he did before, let's put it that way." (yeah so, this barely happened?)

september 20, 2024, OS: “We don’t really have too much of a time jump moving into this season, so the relationship with Tommy is much where it was left off,” explains Stark. “It is in its early stages. They’re still learning and figuring things out about each other and what a relationship might or could look like.”