#fuckin love love potion fics

[dustyspines]

my current state of “so far gone there’s no coming back” is that today I bought a random candle because the scent combo is exactly the scent I’ve given to scorpius in this one specific fic. do I use candles? no. do I have matches? no. But can I smell him when I hold it? yes.

[ellecdc]

Dude, I read the one where you talked about pregnant reader and you said it'll be a cute fic.... are you really gonna write it!!? Poly moonwater with pregnant reader!?? Will you? Will you? Will you!!?? Please, will you!!!!!???

well.....since you asked so nicely........👀

poly!moonwater x afab fem!reader who finds out she's expecting

CW: mentions of pregnancy, how people get pregnant (nothing discussed in detail, SFW and minors), reader is concerned the boys will leave her, reader wishes to keep the pregnancy, based off a discussion on this post.

Now that you knew, you weren’t sure how you could honestly feel surprised. In fact, now you were kind of surprised that it hadn’t happened sooner. 

For all the claims that wizardingkind makes to be ahead of the curve in comparison to muggles, they don’t exactly have the best contraceptives. 

Potions are fine if you remember to take them, the same can be said about charms, and condoms are a foreign concept to the likes of wizarding society.

You’d been feeling so incredibly exhausted lately, and it had gotten to the point that you couldn’t make it through the day without having at least one nap. It was when you’d actually fallen asleep at the dinner table that Regulus started to fret, though Remus found it terribly funny at the time. 

Then came the aches and pains that never seemed to dull no matter what you did. You’d tried potions, over the counter muggle medications, hot baths, cold showers, lying flat, sitting up – nothing stopped the aches that seemed intent on plaguing you. Remus had even given you full body massages that, whilst absolutely heavenly, did absolutely fuck all. 

“Maybe you’re coming down with something?” He’d queried, holding the back of his hand to your head. “Reg? Can you bring me the thermometer?”

You swore you heard whatever Regulus had been fussing with in the kitchen fall unceremoniously onto the counter in his haste to come over to you.

“Why? Is she poorly?” He asked severely, placing the back of his hand against your head like Remus had, only far more aggressively and to the point that it actually made a slapping sound as it made contact.

“Och, babe! If she wasn’t poorly yet she’ll surely have a concussion now!” Remus chided, pushing Regulus’ hand away and cradling your head protectively to his chest.

Needless to say, the thermometer didn’t pick up a fever either. 

So, when you woke up the next morning and spent most of the day hunched over the toilet bowl, Reg insisted you see a Healer.

Once the Healer started to ask the more...pointed questions, the pieces all started to click together in your mind.

Are you sexually active? Yes.

When was your last menstrual cycle? They weren’t exactly regular so... you supposed it had been late.

Any nausea? Yes.

Fatigue. Uh-huh.

Body or muscle pain? Fuckin’ hells.

So now you were standing outside of yours, Remus', and Regulus’ shared flat with a copy of your test results in your hand wondering what in the buggering fuck you were going to do now.

Both Regulus and Remus were pretty set on not wanting children of their own. They loved children, and they were both really good with children (in their own, very different ways); but with Regulus’ past, his family's reputation, and “the sodding inbreeding, amour; I’d be surprised if it didn’t come out with everything upside down and backwards”, he was sure that it’d be better for everyone if he stayed childless.

And Remus.

Poor, sweet Remus.

Too ashamed of his own affliction to a) pass it onto his own biological child or b) force any child to live with the knowledge that they had a ‘monster’ for a father.

And that was that.

Children just wasn’t in the cards for you three.

Yet here you were...

Suddenly, you weren’t just worried; you were terrified.

They didn’t want this, they never wanted this. They had always been clear about that. They could have been more careful to prevent this, but here you were.

Here you were.

There you stood; outside of your shared flat, unable to bring yourself to open the door.

They were going to leave you; they’d leave you, surely. Yeah?

They didn’t want this.

They wouldn’t want you. 

Fuck.

“For the love of Circe, I’m jus- Salazar’s saggy balls, Y/N!” Regulus said as he stumbled in the doorway, startled after having been in the middle of shouting something over his shoulder only to nearly collide with you. “How long have you been standing out here?”

You stared dumbly at him; you weren’t ready to go inside. You weren’t ready to have this conversation.

Too bad.

“Not long?” You stated in the form of a question. He furrowed his brows and looked you up and down before offering you his hand up the two steps to your doorway. 

“I was just opening the doors and windows; you’re lovely boyfriend tried to make us dinner.” He explained with a fond eyeroll, stepping into the flat and squinting through the smoke flooding the living space.

“Yeah, yeah. Last time I try something new in the kitchen.” Remus muttered as he threw away an entire baking dish.

“What was it supposed to be again, sweetheart?” Regulus asked with a mischievous smirk you knew he picked up from spending too much time with Remus, Sirius, and James.

“Just never you mind, you tosser. Hi dove.” He muttered to Regulus, though his tone changed dramatically once he turned to you, his eyes softening as he took in your form.

“How was your appointment?”

Your appointment? Your appointment. The appointment you just had. The appointment where you found out. The appointment where you were told you were pregnant. That appointment. The appointment you were still holding the slip for. The slip with your results. The slip with your pregnancy test results. The slip with your positive pregnancy test results.

That appointment.

“I-”

And you took off to the bathroom, slammed the door behind you and heaved into the toilet. 

There was a gentle knock on the door as you sat back against the tub with your knees to your chest, trying to catch your breath. “Dove?”

Another knock.

“Okay, we’re coming in.” Came Regulus’ more authoritarian voice through the door before it slowly opened to allow both of them entrance.

Remus had to fold himself a number of times in order to sit on the bathroom floor beside you whilst Reg flushed the toilet (while you flushed in embarrassment) and closed the lid to sit on it, facing you and Remus. 

“Did you get any answers from the healer?” Regulus asked quietly.

You smothered a humourless scoff and nodded your head in the affirmative. 

The boys let you sit there with your head laid back onto the edge of the tub and your eyes closed before Regulus couldn’t seem to handle it anymore.

“And? Are you... okay?”

You took in a deep breath and pulled that paper - now crumpled within your fist - cast a gemino duplication spell on it and handed one to each boy. 

You curled yourself inward and rested your forehead on your knees, reminding yourself to breathe even though you knew these two men now knew that you were expecting, that you were expecting their child. 

It could have been moments, or it could have been hours; but it was Remus who broke the silence.

“Pregnant?” He whispered on an exhale.

You cautiously raised your head to look over at him by your side, noticing that his eyes were shining with unshed tears.

You brought him to tears.

He never wanted this.

He wouldn’t want you.

“You’re really pregnant?” He asked again.

You nodded and swallowed around your gag reflex; unsure whether the nausea was nerves or...pregnancy related.

“You’re...” Reg started, still looking down at the paper in his hands. “You’re... gonna have a baby?” He whispered in awe.

You felt your brows furrow when you heard an emotional chuckle from beside you.

You turned back to see Remus wiping tears away from his eyes as he looked back down at his own paper in front of him.

“We’re gonna have a baby?” Remus corrected, nudging Regulus’ calf with his foot.

“Wait, you... you guys aren’t upset?” You asked urgently. Both boys snapped to attention to look at you in various degrees of worry or horror.

“Upset!?” Remus gawked as Regulus started shaking his head emphatically.

“Why? Why would you be worried of such a thing?”

You shook your own head and looked down at your hands as you began picking at your nailbeds. “Neither of you were ever interested in having kids of your own.” 

“Oh, dovey.” Remus cooed and quickly pulled you into his side. “When was the last time we talked about this, huh? When we first graduated Hogwarts? I think we could manage a kid now, yeah?”

“Or four.” Regulus added, causing you and Remus to straighten up significantly.

“Four!?” You and Remus chorused.

“Since when did you want kids?” You questioned incredulously.

“The moment I saw you hold Harry for the first time.” He answered without hesitation. 

“Ha ha.” Remus taunted. “Mine was watching her shop for Lily’s baby shower.” 

“What!?” You nearly screeched.

Regulus sighed before ultimately moving to sit on the floor on your other side; you knew this was very serious considering he was a notorious germ freak. 

“I was always a little afraid of having kids of my own, you’re right. I mean, you’ve seen the way that Sirius and I turned out, yeah?”

You and Remus scoffed at that.

“I just hated the idea of ever being anything like my parents, because that’s all I know. Or I guess, that was all I knew. But... I think you guys have taught me an awful lot.”

You watched Regulus’ stormy grey eyes as they moved between you and Remus. “You’ve both taught me to slow down, to be more patient, to see the fun in the mess and the burnt food and the change of plans. You’ve taught me that I won’t perish if I sit on the bathroom floor for a minute. And, I think most importantly, you’ve taught me how to love. And when I see how happy Harry is, I realize that’s all a kid really needs, yeah? Love?”

“You... you really want a child? This child?” You asked in a whisper.

Regulus’s face turned heartbroken for a moment. “You’re child? Absolutely, amour. There was never any doubt.”

“I always thought I’d pass on only the worst parts of me to any child.” Remus added, turning your attention to him. “But I find I’m only ever my best self when I’m around the two of you. And any child that’s even a fraction of either of you, well, I’d be one... one lucky man to call them mine.” He whimpered the end of his sentence before breaking out into a sob.

“Oh, Rem.” You murmured empathetically, pulling his larger frame into your side. He chuckled through happy tears as he moved one of his hands tentatively to your abdomen.

“A baby...” Regulus breathed, looking back at the paper in his hands. “We’re really going to have a baby?”

You and Remus exchanged a shy glance, understanding seeming to pass between the two of you before you both turned back to Regulus.

“We’re going to have a baby.” You concurred. 

[theyoungeragrippina]

✨ 15 gentlebeard fic recs ✨

i have spent the last month trawling the pages of ao3 for you, dear reader, to find the best ofmd fics. all the works on this list:

are longer-form (generally 40k+)

have no steddyhands (simply not my thing)

are generally, all around brilliant (well-written, had me kicking my feet and giggling, laughing, or crying)

are complete!

part 2 and part 3

A Heart Unsated by roughwinds

48k, explicit

"Stede Bonnet has just moved into Orange Crescent. There’s a house on the corner, opposite Stede’s own, with a garden full of flowers and a gleaming motorbike on the driveway. He’s forgotten to buy sugar.

Edward Teach has his morning disturbed by his new neighbour. Enamoured at first sight, he invites Stede round for a chat, and then another, and then another.

This is the story of them."

man i normally avoid fics with lots of alma and louis in them because its just not for me, but literally every second of the family bonding in this was so wholesome i was forced to change my entire mind.

all you left me was a pearl by @sightofsea

88k, mature

"1717. The Golden Age of Piracy. Stede Bonnet sets about wooing the love of his life through any means necessary.

Things do not go as planned."

every day i wish for a precise memory erasing potion to be invented so i can read this again for the first time. i would devour like 2000k more words of this if it was offered to me. brilliant.

forgive & forget by @fool-for-luv

44k, mature

"It hits him then, like a wave breaking on sand, loud as thunder when it crashes, then trickling away into little rivulets flowing back home, murmuring one word over and over and over. Ed.

The problem is, Stede doesn’t recall ever having met anyone named Ed."

so sweet and wonderful, and i wish there was more.

#gentlebeard is trending! by regional_catastrophe

41k, teen

"In which Stede accidentally convinces the pirating world that Gentlebeard (or Blackbonnet or Stedward; there's a poll) is canon, reunites his crew, and gets his boyfriend back."

hilarious & silly & great, but also the most compelling notes of any fic i've ever read. a proper learning experience.

if music be the food of love (then darling, you're a feast) by @fool-for-luv

107k, unrated

"“Hey, so, those two, right, they get together in the end?” Ed asks.

“I would protest spoiling it, but I think it's rather obvious, isn't it?” Stede says. His nose wrinkles as he smiles. “The tension is certainly there from the beginning. It just takes them a while to get there.”

“Good. Would have been a shit story otherwise.""

i love sassy stede and i love ed who is a grump and i love that they share one single braincell at any given time.

If You Were Mine to Keep by @mysterybees

162k, explicit

"Caught between the gallows and the end of an English sword, Ed accepts the Act of Grace: marry into the aristocracy, leave the English ships alone, and live to sail another day. But who in their right mind would ever agree to marry the mad devil pirate Blackbeard?"

Worth every second of tiredness I felt after pulling an all nighter to finish reading.

It's Only Right by hexuponye

53k, explicit

"A modern AU based on Imagine Me & You, in which Edward is a florist who does the flowers for Stede's wedding."

mary gets to be a little silly sometimes too as a treat.

pliocene by unfortunatelyobsessed

75k, mature

""man, it's just ocean for miles.” Ed motions out to the waves, where there is no sign of any sort of ship, their small dinghy pulled far up on the sand. “I told you when the clouds look like seagulls you take fuckin' cover. Goddamn ocean mutinied me.”"

william golding wishes he did something this brilliant and significant when he wrote Lord of the Flies. the best deserted island story.

quite a career shift by @stedesparasol

157k, explicit

"Stede's been posting book reviews on Youtube for two months now. It's taken him that long to finally get a comment, and the person it comes from is rather unexpected."

rip stede you would've LOVED booktube. furious i can never really watch his content.

Semaphore by komodobits

124k, explicit

"Talking things through as a crew is easier said than done, and honest communication has never really been Stede’s strong suit. When it comes to Ed, he is willing to try."

so good that i was properly and truly laughing and gasping and 'oh no-ing' out loud while i read it.

Such Joie de Vivre by @louciferish

94k, explicit

"Professional thief Edward Teach is tired of hole in the wall apartments, shitty pub food, and skipping town every few months to keep the cops off their tail. He’s well past the age he meant to flee the country and retire, and all he needs is One Last Job to set him up for life. When he hears that some rich bastard outside of town has just the sort of treasure he’d trade his good knee for, Ed sets out in disguise to get the lay of the land."

i (so so foolishly) avoided reading this for a while because i simply didn't think i was one for nanny aus. i was so, terribly wrong. don't make the same mistakes i did. showstopping. incredible stuff.

The Chains of Flowers are Fragile Things by @grandmastattoo

62k, explicit

"Stede can't see the shop he's inherited from his late father as anything other than a burden, another insult added to a life that's going nowhere fast. Then he meets the charismatic man who owns the tattoo studio next door, and Stede finds himself forced to consider the idea of home."

maybe i love tattoo shop owner ed fics, sue me. i love this stede and i love his embarrassing mistake tattoo.

The Love Experiment by karawrites

65k, mature

a married at first sight (aus) au. i didn't know i needed it until i read it.

Water/line by @the-gentleman-mermaid

60k, teen

"During a raid on a smuggler ship, Ed finds a merman named Stede locked in the hold."

So good that I would actually pay the author real person money to do a similar story but where Ed is the mermaid.

Where the Daylight Begins by @xoxoemynn

116k words, explicit

"Modern day AU slow burn featuring a pining Ed, a clueless Stede, found family, roughly a million animals, and a very magical house."

This one sort of gave me House on the Cerulean Sea vibes; it was so much fun and genuinely necessitates a proper use of the word whimsical.

[fluxweeed]

Hii, I just discovered your fics and am reading my way through them. Love, love, love the ones I’ve read so far.😊 I was just wondering what your favourite Draco is you’ve written, and what your fave Draco is in fics written by others? ☺️

ACK thank you!! what a question!! i've considered this v carefully and it turns out i have………a lot of thoughts. i will keep them under a cut so nobody is accosted with a full 700 words of my Draco Opinions 😂 so my quick answer is:

my fave draco i've written: the taste of țuică my fave draco ever: rookie moves by peu_a_peu

draco is an interesting one for me bc i don't really LIKE him? but i have sooo many feelings about him. really not sure i could summon the same fervour for harry, for example, who is my number one boy forever and always.

(i saw a thing once that said a pairing becomes ur otp when u relate to one of the characters and want to fuck the other one, and 🙈 i mean, i think you're supposed to relate to the gryffindor, aren't you. whoops.)

OKAY SO HERE'S THE UNHINGED DRACO MALFOY ESSAY BY FLUX W. EED.

listen. i love and respect people who are Refined Draco enjoyers. connoisseurs of redemption arcs. appreciators of majestic malfoy bone structure and ethereal grey eyes and soft windswept hair. fans of dracos who insult harry (with hidden affection) and who are a bit snobbish (in a rich, sexy way) but ultimately have realised the error of their teenage years and have become a better person. perhaps this draco has built a potions business and helps the aurors. perhaps he IS an auror. either way, he has a biting sense of humour, maybe, but he's a good guy.

unfortunately, the draco of my heart is a horrid mean little rat man.

i've never actually managed to write him the way i love him. i tried to aim for immoral bastardy in what's mine is yours but i got so caught up in trying to nail the feelsforbreakfast-style humour in the narrative that i ended up focusing much more on that and much less on writing genuine bastardhood.

i've written him as reserved and clever (in the four doors – this draco was written entirely for @jovialobservationanchor, who had a weak spot for closed-off academics with soft centres) and as a traumatised self-loathing mess (in two to lie and to some extent for lack of wanting and say no to this) and hopelessly sexually/emotionally horny for one harry james potter (in, um, most things) but i've never managed to capture the genuine cruel streak and flawed personality that is sooo so important to me.

WHICH IS WHY i picked țuică!draco for my favourite of the ones i've written. he's still a bit too emotionally intelligent to be Just Right, imo, but i think he's maybe the closest? he's unrepentantly rude to people. he's not attractive. and he has a streak of self-destructive fucked-upedness that is some form of wartime guilt, but certainly not a pretty one.

HOWEVER. rookie moves?? NAILED it. i adooored how genuinely fuckin MEAN he is, even tho he's an auror. i love love LOVED that he's kind of bad at his job in a way that's in complete opposition to how drarry!draco is often written these days:

The look on Malfoy’s face was not only troubling, Harry realized, but familiar. At once activated and dead behind the eyes, like an invasive species in an ecosystem that could not check it. It was the look of the meanest fucking teenager Harry had ever known, giving in to his urge to bully.

-

What Malfoy wasn’t good with was people. Despite his repeated insistences that his upbringing had equipped him with impeccable manners and a facility with society intrigue, the truth was that he rubbed almost everyone the wrong way. He was, undeniably, annoying. Witnesses were put off by his snide, dismissive tone, and he didn’t know how to coax out information with curiosity, warmth, or strategic silence.

that's not to say unrepentant cunt draco is the only one for me!! i DO enjoy the classic redeemed drarry draco!! i love a quirky draco, à la wwpwcs or maya's drop dead gorgeous. gallaplacidia's draco is sooo painful for me to read (complimentary) that even though i adore her fics, i still haven't read them all bc i have to space them out, for my health. and i'm sure there are dozens more dracos that i'm forgetting how much i like – basically, as long as he isn't super suave, absolutely gorgeous and/or obviously tom felton, i'm on board.

[ghaniblue]

Mixed bag of HP recs

I'm trying to get back into the reccing game. These are fics I enjoyed recently. 12 stories: some old, some new, some Drarry, some Marauders era, some other rare pairs.

Animalia by gyzym (James/Sirius, T, 7k)

Everyone assumed that Sirius and James got on so well because they were exactly alike and they were all wrong; everyone assumed Sirius and James got on so well because they were both crazy and that was true.

riding a freight train's solitary wail by orphan_account (Sirius, James, Regulus, minor wolfstar, T, 4k)

"And if he doesn't come back?" James asks. "You hurt him, you know."

"He hurt me," Sirius contends. "I've been living on the streets of fuckin', fuckin', fucken', Ealing. Ealing's a shithole, Jamie. I got mugged. He took my fags and knocked my teeth out."

"Shut up," James says, and seems to mean it.

Winner Takes All by the_invisibility_bloke (Regulus/Sirius, E, 9k)

You call that a kiss?"

It’s all fun and games until it’s fun and games and groping.

as a friend, as an old enemy by swoons (Regulus/Tom, Regulus/Sirius, M, 1k)

Tom Riddle is persuasive and handsome, his beauty its own form of coercion. I never stood a chance.

That the Science of Cartography is Limited by Rave (Wolfstar, M, 7k)

The whole thing is silly and illogical. There has to be a rhythm. There has to be a sense. Because there are things that make sense about living, and you can’t come to a logical conclusion from an illogical premise, it doesn’t work like that.

sweet poison by damagecontrol (Jegulus, E, 76k)

By the third week of school, Regulus’ crush is out of control. He’s always been a top student. Not to mention, law is his thing. He excels at it, but he can’t focus in class. Not when his professor looks this good in his suit, fabric hugging all the right places. Not when he runs his fingers through already messy hair and makes it messier. Tanned skin and broad shoulders, a brilliant smile paired with infallible kindness. Regulus has never wanted anyone more. - Or, Regulus offers to take care of a houseplant and ends up sleeping with his professor. Oops?

The Soul of That Place: One Story, Two POVs by Thevina (Millicent/Ron, T, 11,6k)

Mid-blackout, Millicent finds herself taken to a holistic rehab centre called The Safehold. Finding Ron Weasley already there as a resident causes a reshuffle in Millicent's concept of reality. A story of starting over, again and again, and a love letter to my own tribe from my real life Safehold.

Lonely Creatures by apricitydays (Snape/Giant Squid, E, 6k)

Life as a double-agent Potions Master who lost the love of his life and generally hates people is pretty shitty. Severus has a chance meeting one night at the bottom of the lake that changes his life forever.

Beyond Fifth Street by storyofeden (Lighting era Gryffindors, Draco, background ships, E, 4k)

There was a little Muggle café on one corner of Fifth Street. Every evening, their friends go through the small, magical door at the back.

The Way You Say My Name by InnerLilith (Drarry, E, 5k)

In which Malfoy calls Harry pet names to get him flustered and riled up, and Harry gets flustered and riled up because he secretly likes it. The problem is that Malfoy is only teasing…or is he?

I've Got a Beautiful Feeling (Everything's Going My Way) by toomuchplor (Drarry, E, 3,6k)

“I’ve got such a boner,” Harry says, voice scratchy, just slitting his eyes open now, turning his head on his pillow to face Draco. “Oh, lovely, good morning to you, too,” Draco says. This is absolutely unapologetic explicit filth but it's also absolutely unapologetic as a representation of been-married-a-while sex. That's got to be somebody's specific kink, right? If that's you, enjoy.

The Roommates by citrusses (Drarry, Sirius/Draco, E, 3,6k)

Harry would later wonder if, that first time it happened, he hadn’t been meant to find out all along.

[esorxy]

remembering all the insanely long marauders fics ive brainrotted over because i kinda forgot all of them. roughly in the order i read them.

Whatever happened to the young, young lovers?

355k, jegulus wolfstar rosekiller. post war (ended by regulus) where they just hang around grimmauld place all day. i literally cant remember anything that happened. but i liked how they stayed home and didnt go outside, because i relate to that. it was alternating chapters between post war and pre war, honestly i dont even know it was just so much relationship angst and regulus being incredibly competent and hurt.

All The Young Dudes

526k, the character development and buildup, its like the level of the actual series without the annual voldemort attack. i was DESTROYED by the ending, it lived in my brain rent free for like a week. why did it have to be canon compliant???! the way they spent so much time pining, so much time apart, and so little time together. but that theyre literal soulmates, which is so sad for grant (he suffered true emotional damage) lmfao. I guess this is the basis (canon??) of marauders era

we can be heroes, for ever and ever

102k alternate happy ending to atyd - yes PLEASE this is what i needed to heal the pain after reading atyd.

choices

624k. lowkey feel the same way towards this as atyd, except it didnt live in my brain rent free for a week. in that i respect that it's good and got heartbroken when everyone died and they didn't get their happy ending, but it did get me into jegulus so I'm not complaining. IDK it's just sad, but i love regulus and evan and cerci. even though i deadass can't remember anything else.

crimson rivers

865k actually SOBBING this fic is everything. so much plot and so much hurt, it is amazing and painful and intense. it has the most picturesque scenes, beautiful happy ending. but i did kinda get sick of it near the end cos its so fuckin long, and i was not into the girls in the fic so i was kinda cbs

holding onto the self

76k and it was so good i felt so sad for sirius. this is the type of fic which makes me jaw drop and suck in breath like poor baby honestly. no summary needed cos ill never forget what its about lmfao....

just lovers

321k fake dating au. this is GREAT. its so light hearted which is a great change from the akckdjebakzj. this is the climb to the top for regulus being my favourite character. lowkey can't remember shit but i liked it and i need more fics like it because it was creative and there's not much room for that in marauders verse

only the brave

645k and The fic of my dreams. this is everything and i loved every second of it. every character is so great, and it got me into pandalily!!! perfect amount of hurt (a lot), and such good plot. it has every ship i like, i was like drowning in a hot spring of happiness while reading this

ecliptic

147k, oh it's so creative and new. it was so suspenseful cos we got 0 answers, and the fic is deadass incomplete wtf!! i love how everyone is sad but mostly rational. the jegulus was really really nice, and i liked how the cruciatus was made out to be a big deal so the hurt/comfort is better. i feel like the plot is better than the delivery

wolfstar my one true pair, jegulus my second true pair, evan®ulus has a special place in my heart, marauders fanfiction a permanent space in my mind for at least the next few weeks

new edit: shit! i forgot to update and i read so many more long fics and can barely remember them now

mastermind

311k i cant even remember anything that happened ... except i liked the dynamic between narcissa and regulus, and narcissa is so damn pretty. this was the one where regulus made james and sirius go with him to the cave, and then james had to force him to drink the potion, so much angst arghhhh.

all along there was some invisible string (tying you to me)

103k spiderman AU + high school and all i can say that its an original setting... the pining was great, and the spiderman kiss!! but other than that like it was good, i guess

I adored you madly, extravagantly, absurdly

243k Victorian AU with arranged marriage trans regulus. I loved regulus' character, he was so spiteful and petty but also down bad, and jegulus matched so perfectly together. i want his life so bad because his literal job was being married, like deadass he didnt do shit all day except read, play with his cats and pine for his husband...

a violent kind of spin

212k not going to lie, my favourite/most striking parts of this fic were the $h scenes... and i just finished it last night so I dont even have an excuse. james asking sirius to turn around and not even waiting for him to do it??? oml hes unhinged and it was so well written. the bathtub scene when he was on a timer and then just walked out like everything was fine!!! help it was so angsty im in love. i feel like i speedran this fic and didnt read it properly, which is probably accurate

Im not gonna teach him how to dance with you

122k. rosekiller is the BEST. i love the whole plot tbh and it was so well paced. love that for evan because nobody else is gonna keep by with barty's crazy. i would have liked it more if it had crack undertones but yknow whatever, cant have everything. i thoroughly enjoyed all the romantic tension in the leadup, the way they were both so in love im gone.

All the young dudes - Sirius' Perspective

628k, let me tell you, canon has no right being that sad, and the beloved author just fed off that like a parasite. i should have expected how this fanfic would destroy me, but the delivery made it so much more painful. i sobbed reading the Halloween and Azkaban chapters. and sirius,,, like why did you have to be so angry all the time. and so obsessed with remus from day 1. it was great. although like halfway through i just felt like ... wolfstar is so basic. jegulus once jegulus forever i guess.

whatever our souls are made of

157k hanahaki where we really gotta work for the happy ending. OML it was so beautifully sad. reggie 💔💔. sirius said nobody on the earth deserves his baby brother, but if he had to pick someone, it would be James 😭😭 I'm a broken man

oml i havent updated in 2 months... its ok i didnt read that much cos i was too tired with uni and work. anyway i found all my fics through tiktok, tumblr, or thru the author cos this gold mine is too big sorry chief. which is like. someone recommended this following fic :skull:

I'm not okay (I solemnly swear)

107k and unfinished :000 cant believe it i read something unfinished but when i read the tags i was like ok yeah im in. my secret is that i read fics like these!!! and most of them are not well written but this one is. and so was that other one about sirius but it was only like 78k so i didnt write it up. anyway poor reggie is going through it, and idk if its ever getting finished cos the poor author might be going through it too. additional note: idk if this is the one but bestie has so many problems like get help fr.

the veil of secrecy

100k but its unfinished and let me tell nobody i was devastated. omg it was so sad so the summary is after reggie defected voldymouldy found out and like --- got all his remaining horcruxes and stuffed them inside his chest and abdominal cavity in some crazy ass surgery. and then he sewed his mouth shut and broke his fingers and kept him around him like some porcelain doll/pet and thats the punishment????? oml how do u think of that... anyway so he dissociates into his fabric walls of occlumency so voldy doesnt know where the locket is. ok whatever they escape and he falls in love with jamie idk. its unfinished.

to the boy who...

238k its similar to the previous one (written by the same author ibbsterkisster) and i found it to read to cope with the first one not being finished. yes this is like 3x as long sighs we all know how it is. anyway its similar except reggie is like his boy toy instead... which is even worse. anyway i cant remember anything about the jegulus but i DO remember that evan was so sweet (as he is) he like stroked the bruise on reggies wrist very gently :facepalm: and that scene lives rent free in my brain.

blood on my shirt, heart in my hand

22k and id just like to say, this is the kind of horror that i like. its kinda a mystery at first but its not so creepy, and the jegulus endgame is stronger than a bulletproof vest. so james is having dreams which are vaguely murderous, and when he wakes up the events like kinda match up. turns out hes like having some repetitive dissociative episode every night at 12.37am and getting up to murder people. and after the first time reggie was just like 'well if ur in then im in too' and straight up helps him murder people ?!? i loved it. murder husbands.

the long game

250k and this is the most unique fic youll get here. modern high school au where reggie is like this god genius talented painter and they work on a musical set together, and reggie gets an art show and idk why this stood out to me but he drew like a green soft and a purple cushion and was like... this represents me and evan, cos were ok separately but great together. i read this so long ago i cant even remember what i thought of it

jealousy, jealousy

85k + unfinished again!! anyway so bartylus fake date so james and evan can get jealous and then they both end up together. i just remember it was so cute because they would just hug each other like constantly all the time, and cry at the smallest inconvenience, then their friend/boyfriend would go and lie with them in bed and hug them and that was like a very significant portion of it. and im not even complaining this is the type of physical affection they deserve

pathological people pleaser

114k but it passed so fast?!?! james is so fuckin unstable man like get a therapist. ok i actually enjoyed this so much because for some reason i was really into horror (it was literally 2 days ago) and this wasnt horror but they did not reveal like why james was so fucked, and which parts of his narration were unreliable until quite a bit in. also there was more than a month gap between me bookmarking this one and the last one and like i dont even know what i did with myself??? (actually i lied i read more fanfiction i just forgot i did cos i forgot to bookmark it) (summary: summer holiday where starchaser fall in love also effie died in a car crash on the way to james after he called and was like mom im gonna kms. ok but it was really well written and full of suspense)

anti-hero

237k and i just finished it so its fresh in my mind (for once) ok now that i think about it i have no idea why regulus lived that first time... maybe i didnt read closely enough but like when fics are that long i kinda just miss some stuff or forget it and they all blur together anyway. ok so firstly i want a story of james and regulus in this universe when they were still at hogwarts because like having a secret relationship for 2 years and also doing drugs.. just the hurt comfort ahhh maybe without all the hurt and yelling but whatever. cant have it all. anyway this was so well written i always like narcissa tbh. glad james and regulus sorted out their shit eventually even though it took so. fucking. long. anyway yikes (summary: reggie lives after the cave and they go horcrux hunting and kill voldy but then reggie fucks off to america and becomes a drug addict again but comes back, and james has anger issues but only when it comes to regulus anyway they kept hurting each other that i didnt even feel sad anymore when it happened) addition: oml reggie being an addict + nic in beautiful boy the stars aligned finally i get some visual scenes in this fandom

doing a word count sum of the above and its: 6 million and 476 thousand...

meetings that start in the dark

656k and oml i was SEMI HOOKED. honestly like why did it take them so fucking long to get back together like the moment Voldemort dropped dead James should have been unable to stay away from regulus. anyway love how they're obsessed with each other, love how Luna and Harry are playing matchmaker. and i especially love how Sirius was the lame embarrassing parent ahah. also the amount of bs evan has to put up with from reg and barty... jesus christ i loved them in this except for how he was buff girl no evan is a twink and this fic wont change my mind

sometimes, running away does solve all your problems

15k so reggie literally walks out of his house and his parents dont even notice and he runs away and meets james and they live together it was perfect omfg i loved it so so so much. it had the same sad, resigned tone as the dsmp fics that i was obsessed with before and would reread over and over. and the small village quiet life is a dream

27 club

27k and why was it so heavy oml like i didn't sign up for this sadness. ok so reggie is DEAD but before that he and James were like lovers and drug buddies but also lacked healthy communication. james is like bye imma get clean without u, the literal love of my life. the whole thing was so sad because it would be like one bit of 'oh and they were in love and making music' and then another bit of 'james was mourning so hard he couldnt get out of bed'. it was lowkey magical to read except for how hes dead.

you missed my heart

100k and omfg im in shock tbh. like what the actual fuck. I'm in shock in an "im unsettled and creeped out" way. i don't even know why because ive read serial killer jegulus fics before and it was all peachy, but maybe this one was so creepy because we were in the dark, and the killing isn't unrealistic and romanticised. James was so smitten with regulus too I'm crying i was actually convinced that reggie wasn't the killer. i need soft regulus fluff to cope with this. to erase the image of reggie being a psychopath. omg Sirius after finding out the truth.. poor boy was like catatonic. I'm never reading unhappy ending fics again I've become weak my heart can't take it

I'm going to start including the shorter fanfics that i read and are memorable as well because i don't discriminate

which means i have a lot of catching up to do

the moment and the sound

29k so james runs away with harry to escape voldemort and meets reggie by chance. they live together and james is like straight up depressed. i liked this fic but also forgot what it was like.

raise hell

30k it's basically about them being angels and demons and working together to idk stop the world from ending. i liked the tone of the fic in that everyone was like set in their ways and was like wtf at everyone else but also i wish it was longer and there was more about each person's like representation like Sirius being the angel of justice. also it was so funny regulus the angel of diligence and James the demon of lust.

blackpool

63k and omg it was so well written but i was so confused the whole time cos i have no literary ability. like regulus being a straight up unreliable narrator?!?! deadass in shock half the time reading this tbh

calm before the storm

51k and i could draw a graph of the shock factor of this fic and it would look like a staircase with 3 steps. at the start it was so happy and cute and i was like omg why did i click on this again and then sirius dies and james loses his memory and reggie is like fucked up that's the first step up and then they heal whatever but then reggie straight up starts murdering people and making a show out of it i read it all like 😳😳. unhinged fr, and also everyone tried to kts at least once like besties go see a therapist please

pink lemonade

121k band tour au where they sing (i think mostly) arctic monkeys songs and kudos because the lyrics all fit so well to whatever clown ass miscommunication situation jegulus have going on. it was relationship angst and maybe i would have enjoyed it more if i read it earlier but rn i need action and thrill. i was like to my irl friend like miscommunication angst isn't enough for me anymore i need murder and she was like girl wtf.

youngblood

75k basically jegulus were roommates in juvenile detection and they had such a deep soul connection in the 2 months and then never reconnected until like 9 years later. ok anyway my favourite part was James and how he was so unhinged. like literally provoking bullies so they hurt him is his form of sh... girl get a grip honestly but also respect for the idgaf factor

mercy

36k so james gets possessed by a ??demon called mercy and reg is an exorcist... so its very obvious what drew me into this. anyway james lives at regs house while hes figuring out what the fuck is wrong with him and they just ??? fall in love. ok slow burn was not really burning at all more like a ticking bomb but the horror was cute. also i found it at night and then read it all at like 8-9am in the morning before getting out of bed so i cant remember it but it was well written and the demon was lowkey cute too he was just out for drama which i can relate

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

HELLO BELOVED CKB!! I have been restraining myself for months (hypothetical since I have no sense of time) on the topic of fictional characters that remind people of Yves. Because Oh Boy do I have a big one.

Have you seen Vil Schoenheit from Twisted Wonderland? There are so many parallels it makes me go absolutely bonkers. I might get his character wrong but oh well.

- Vil is insanely rich & a model/actor. Very influential and worked his way to that spot. His skincare and makeup routine is fucking impertinent to him; he must look flawless at all times. He makes sure that he is in prime condition and pushes to make sure that the people in his dorm are of similar regimens.

- Vil is based off of the evil queen (he’s not related to her in any sense btw.) He, by nature, is very nitpicky and motherly towards the people that he cares about even though it can be seen by them as smothering and overwhelming sometimes.

- He specializes in making potions and specifically poisons.

- Oh My God he is so mother and honestly one of my favorite characters and so is Yves which honestly says a lot about me. I need help. Canonically calls his right hand man “dear/darling.”

If I had to relate Yves to another TWST character it would be Malleus Draconia but only looks and obsessiveness and the whole “I want to be with you for eternity” thing.

- 🌷

Oh hell yeah i know Twisted wonderland, I follow a couple of blogs who specialized in making Yandere Fics about them, my favourite is Malleus Fuckin Draconia my man. Im pretty sure you can see my type (Long black hair, green eyes, calm, lithe and vampiric types)

I didn't know shit about twisted wonderland at first, I fr thought it was a yandere dating sim, but I had to learn everything bit by bit from the bits and bobs of canon those authors would sometimes post about, so it was like learning a language from scratch.

I was partially interested in Vil Schoenheit, but I guess most of the fics wrote him as mainly focused on his fanbase and not the reader- like he needs the world to have their eyes on him or he will throw up and die. So that kinda killed my yearning boner off for him because reader's attention is not enough and he requires love from the masses too.

Like fr i appreciate the maternalness of Vil, but it just feels... surface level since I doubt he would be interested in personally wiping reader's ass when they're incapable or cleaning up your puke on himself with a straight face without making a big deal out of it.

and IMO i think he's a little too loud, a little too naggy and his nitpicky comes from a place of self service, not really in the reader's best interest. Like Yves would listen to you and observe 100%, whereas its the other way round for Vil, where you gotta drink the yappuchino he serves. Dont come for me Vil simps i think he is swell despite this </3 I just don't think he would be the parallel of Yves </333

but for MALLEUS tho,,, mans a quiet, antisocial loner from what I saw, only yearning for the attention of the reader (or "yuu"), he's super calm, a recluse, and has like 4 friends. I have read fics that painted him in a maternal light that tickled my heartussy, and I guess thas why i like him more. Because to me, I headcannon he would take care of you himself as if you're paralyzed from the head neck down without complaints or feeling icky when he gotta handle with human bodily fluids. He would mostly listen and observe, maybe infodump about gargoyles but I think he would be a closer match to Yves than Vil in vibes and looks.

Though might wanna consider Jamil Viper from Scarabia, he hates standing out and mans was always depicted as the caretaker to Kalim. And I would like always have the biggest crush on him because,,, hehe caretaker

But he does so begrudgingly and like has a deep hatred for Kalim, I was like damn what if he loves caretaking for me,,, that isn't gonna happen because Jamil comes from a background of injustice and he isn't going to like being subjected to the role forced upon him since birth,,, aha ... unless...

and he's hella smart, but he's moving in silence just like Yves, gritting his teeth but keep on trucking no matter how angery he is. He is calm and quiet, and he listens because he need that information to succeed in his goals, but my delulu ass would be like omg he is so attentive

but theres that spite in Jamil that do be present in Yves though, ironically I would say that Yves is closer in character to Malleus and Jamil than Vil, but i could be just biased and say that because of both appearances are similar to that of Yves rn (Malleus and Jamil has like long, straightish dark hair and them sharp eyes)

[terezis]

i swear otome isekai causes brain worms because i also. i also do that. not just with bg3 but lots of things. isekai'd into a fictional story you know/don't know but know is fictional is soooo fucking appealing as a narrative idk. im at the point of writing just-for-me fics about it help (highly recommend btw its great for exploring setting meta/analysis and world building before more serious stuff 🙈 i love using it to help with doylist/watsonian issues)

yeah same! like is it self-indulgent? of course. but cringe is dead. to be cringe is to be free. self-inserts are fun!!! isekai is interesting!!! there's a reason why it's so popular and that's b/c it's fuckin' fascinating yo.

for real though if u (or anyone reading this) are into isekai and also bg3 you should read feeding alligators. it's super fun but also very clearly VERY well thought out.

the thing with the potion of tongues is so great. like yeah you're right why WOULD a stranger from another world be able to speak the language of the world they've been isekai'd to? tell me more about that. yeah you're right they probably wouldn't be suddenly really good at fighting. that's a problem huh. this new world is really dangerous

[mcytrecursive]

Nomination Overview - Kidfic

We have a real love-it-or-hate-it one here today. Kidfic! Whether this means the characters when they were kids, de-aging, characters as parents, or new fan kids, here's a type of fic that shows up on people's likes list about as often as it shows up on DNWs. Let take a look at what's been nominated.

Title: Risk! Risk! Risk! Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50843518 Fandom: QSMP Author: WhyB Relationships: Jaiden Animations & Cellbit & Roier, Slimecicle & Jaiden Animations, Cellbit/Roier, Bobby (QSMP) & Jaiden Animations, Bobby (QSMP) & Jaiden Animations & Roier, Bobby & Richarlyson (QSMP), Bobby (QSMP) & Roier, Jaiden Animations & Roier Characters: Jaiden Animations, Roier (Video Blogging RPF), Cellbit, Bobby (QSMP)  Length of the work: 6441 words Genre: AU, Domestic/Slice-of-life, Fluff, Family, Hurt/Comfort, Kidfic, Modern AU Type: Fic Summary: Jaiden and Roier are parenting Bobby in a new town they've moved to. Apparently the only way to meet people your age is through the school's PTA meetings. Cellbit is more than willing to smooth them through the process.

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Title: Flocks & Pyres Link: https://archiveofourown.org/series/3211260 Fandom: 3rd Life SMP Author: TinksElixirs Relationships: Jimmy | Solidarity/TangoTek  Characters: Solidarity, Tango Length of the work: 32,024 words (incomplete fic) Genre: Canon-Divergent, Drama, Family, Found Family, Kidfic Type: Fic Summary: This is the AU that was created because I saw the "Rancher's Revenge is Jimmy and Tango's child" trope and went even further down the rabbit hole...by giving them an egg to protect. It's the baby fic (and pre-baby fic) I never expected to write, but I'm having an absolutely BLAST with it anyway!

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Title: With The Venom In My Mouth Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46449652 Fandom: Dream SMP Author: antimony_medusa Relationships: Philza & Technoblade (DSMP) Characters: Philza, Technoblade Length of the work: 13,643 words Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, AU, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Time Travel, Kidfic Type: Fic Summary: Phil stayed quiet in the box and looked down to fighters on the sand. A piglin hybrid with a trident batted the sword of a cat hybrid away and knocked her to the ground. She stared up at him, and the piglin looked to a human in finer armour standing to the side. He nodded, and he stepped back, pulling the trident away from the neck of the cat hybrid. In his memory, these had been soldiers he’d asked to see more of, but looking at this with the experience of a lifetime, he could see that there were no avians down on the sand, and most of the fighters were wearing collars. Phil glanced around the room. Awful lot of the non-avians in the box were wearing collars too. He tucked his chin into his chest. So he was a child again, and he was a child in a city that kept slaves. Fuckin’ fantastic. A rabbit hybrid in a red tunic came over with a plate of little snack foods. She offered it to him. “A snack, young master?” She was wearing a collar too. He did not feel like food. “No, thanks,” Phil said, shaking his head without emerging from his huddle. Or: Philza gets sent back to his childhood and finds it's fucked up. What could make this worse? Oh, oh finding that Techno is in danger, that's just great.

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Title: Its Free Son Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30819416 Fandom: Dream SMP Author: SilverWing15 Relationships: Philza & Technoblade (DSMP) Characters: Philza, Technoblade Length of the work: 3,522 words Genre: AU, Friendship, Found Family, Kidfic Type: Fic Summary: He comes from the realm of the dead. Through the doorway that stands alone on the far off hill. He walks across the Soul Sand desert as though it does not tug at the essence of himself. He wears sacred gold and carries weapons of precious netherite. He is a god, and they have been his favored people for as long as anyone can remember. He comes to their village and trades sacred gold for their potions and eyes of ender. The Blood God walks among them, and they are honored. They have always traded fairly with the Blood God. Sacred gold for offerings of pearls potions and other difficult to acquire things. But this time the Blood God granted them his favor, this time he turned aside their enemies with his open hand and took nothing in return. It is not done to simply take from the gods. The debt must always be repaid. He has saved their lives, they must offer him a life in return. And their eyes fall on him. Technoblade is not a coward. He has faced the enemy in battle, he has seen the Blood God in all his wrathful glory. But he doesn’t want to die.

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Title: Scarecrow AU (When The Sunlight Dies) Link: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2556517 Fandom: Dream SMP Author: personalized_radio, bramble_patch (Marianne_Dashwood) Relationships: Dream/GeorgeNotFound, Quackity/Karl Jacobs/Sapnap, Quackity/Jschlatt Characters: Karl Jacobs, Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Alexis | Quackity, Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot, DreamXD Length of the work: 511,877 words Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, AU, Dark Fic, Drama, Family, Fantasy AU, Friendship, Found Family, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Kidfic, Romance, Royalty AU Type: Fic Series Summary: It's been three months since the coup. Three months since Sapnap, a knight, and George, his prince, have been chased out of their home. Three months of being on the run, trying to find a safe way out of Kinoko without being caught by the president's mercenaries or an opportunistic bounty hunter. It's hard, but it would be a lot easier if he didn't have to worry about George's sudden taste for wandering. Or the two guides that have worked their way into his group, promising them a safer way out of the kingdom. And it would be a whole lot easier if Sapnap wasn't flying solo, doing a job made for two. And then there's the Godling to worry about. Yeah. That's a whole thing. (Summary is for "When The Sunlight Dies", the first story in the series)

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[temis-de-leon]

I started part 2 of the love potion series + 2 stand-alone fics on my computer, but I can't send the docs to my phone, let alone upload them, because this fuckin thing won't CONNECT TO THE WIFI

[piceuscelus]

TDoV prompt: (cis) Eskel fucking trans Geralt, while Geralt is asleep? Level of con is up to you 👀

i picked fully consensual and also Softe

what can i say, i'm a sucker for geralt/eskel being in love

for once it's below 5k, so the entire fic is below! can also be found on ao3

warnings: consensual somnophilia, afab trans!geralt - mixed terminology used (cock/cunt), eskel being a fuckin sap

Eskel half-expects to find Geralt sitting up and waiting for him.

It wouldn’t be the first time, after all. For years now, they’ve arrived to Kaer Morhen within a few days of one another, usually Geralt first; more than once, Geralt has refused to sleep for those few days so he doesn’t miss Eskel’s arrival.

It is sweet, even if it’s also frustrating.

But this time, with the moon frosting everything silver at its height in the heavens, Geralt is slumped over in his bed – or, well, their bed, really. Technically they still have separate rooms – Eskel’s down the hall, this one Geralt’s – but functionally, they haven’t had separate rooms in decades.

Just not much point in it, not when they’re already so entwined.

Geralt is snoring softly, hair feathered over his face, the furs pulls haphazardly around his shoulders in a way that tells Eskel he had probably not intended to fall asleep. Most likely, he’d planned to stay awake, like he usually does, and then – got cold, or uncomfortable sitting up, or something, and laid down instead.

His mistake, really; his Wolf has never been able to resist a nice, soft bed and warm furs. Knocks him out like a light every time.

Eskel chuckles to himself as he crosses the room, stripping his snow-damp clothes and paying no heed to where they land. Igni warms his hands so that he can touch Geralt without startling him awake with cold, and he climbs very carefully into their bed, inching underneath the furs at a glacial pace, monitoring the depth of Geralt’s breath and the speed of his heart. 

Sneaking up on a Witcher is nearly impossible, but Eskel and Geralt have been all but physically bound for so long, he can just about manage it. He rarely gets an opportunity like this, though – without the aid of a potion and Geralt knowing what he’ll be waking to.

They’ve discussed it, of course, and Eskel knows very well what Geralt does and doesn’t like or want, but discussing and doing are two very different things, and, well. It is rare that Geralt is like this – sleeping so deeply without aid, alone in their bed instead of waiting for Eskel to arrive before he lets unconsciousness take him. 

Eskel is hardly going to squander the chance.

He’s careful, as he lays his Igni-warmed hands on Geralt’s waist, slotting up behind him in the bed. His Wolf makes a low noise, snorting in his sleep, but doesn’t stir, otherwise, just snuffles a bit and goes back to snoring. Eskel ignores how his chest feels as if it’s expanding fit to explode and settles in closer, one hand sliding to Geralt’s belly while the other worms underneath his neck.

This time, when Geralt stirs, it’s just to press closer, seeking Eskel’s heat in his slumber. Eskel bites his tongue and nuzzles behind Geralt’s ear, taking a deep, filling breath of him. He smells of cold and pine and dusty furs, but underneath it all, Eskel can always smell him. Mostly indescribable, but it’s his Wolf, all the same, as familiar as his own scent, something he would recognize even in death, he’s fairly certain.

He drags the palm he has on Geralt’s belly up, over his scarred chest, and then back down, detouring over one furred thigh, then back up again along his ribs, under his arm, and forward across his throat. He feels solid and hot and real in a way no one else ever does, to Eskel, as if everyone else will always pale to feeling Geralt pressed against him, under his hands.

He lets himself revel in it for a while, just sort of petting Geralt, up and down his chest and belly, over his hips and thighs and down to his knees, then back up to his collarbone and his throat. Throughout all of it, Geralt continues to snore, though he turns into some of the touches, arches and murmurs nonsensically as he presses closer to Eskel’s hand and body.

Encouragement, almost. Or at least Eskel has been told he’s free to take it that way, so he goes ahead and does just that.

Geralt lets out a breath that almost sounds like relief when Eskel starts kissing down his neck, and Eskel smiles into the crook of his shoulder, his hand slipping below Geralt’s belly and between his sharp hips instead, and then, with a careful shift, between his soft thighs.

He bites back a swear when he feels how hot and wet Geralt already is, as if his body just knows, even when he’s asleep. He mouths at Geralt’s throat, instead, kissing and sucking and licking along ever-familiar scars, the day-old stubble giving him minor rug burn on his cheek. His fingers slip around in the mess Geralt’s already made, but decades of practice make it easy to find his cock, already hard and twitching. He pulls at it, just once, feeling how the jolt of pleasure rolls through Geralt’s entire body and then out of him, in a thin, reedy little moan.

He still doesn’t wake up. Eskel’s cock twitches, too.

“So perfect,” he breathes, almost not even a sound, and slowly shifts so he can lean up and gentle Geralt onto his back. His Wolf goes where he’s tugged and pushed, arching against the bed with a little shiver before he’s relaxing back down, head turning toward Eskel’s arm where he nuzzles in close.

Eskel gives his cock another gentle tug, just to see how his mouth drops open, one of his legs kicking out, and then he moves his fingers again, petting through his slick, messy folds and down to his hole. Already, he’s hot and wet and swollen, and two of Eskel’s fingers slip in with no resistance at all, just a soft, wet sound.

Well, that, and Geralt’s breath rushing out of him on a startlingly loud moan.

Eskel is certain, for a moment, that this is it, this is the moment Geralt wakes up – hardly a tragedy, but cutting off some of the fun, he will admit – but somehow, that’s not what happens. Geralt moans and then whines, head thrashing from side to side twice, entire body rolling to shove his hips down, forcing Eskel’s fingers deeper into his hole, but that’s all he does. When he’s settled from that, even trembling slightly, he just turns his head back toward Eskel and snores again.

“God, Wolf,” Eskel hisses through his teeth, “fuck.”

He twists his wrist and traps the base of Geralt’s little cock under his thumb, then, and it’s easy, from there, to fuck him like this. Just two fingers to start, even though he knows Geralt can take much more, and a thumb rubbing soft and slick at the base of his cock, gentle but unstoppable, and – 

His cock throbs heavily at the broken, breathless sound Geralt makes as he arches from the bed and comes, thighs trembling and cunt clenching spasmodically around Eskel’s buried fingers.

He ducks down and mouths at Geralt’s throat, careful of his teeth and the roughness of his scars. “Good, so good, fuck, Wolf,” he breathes, and Geralt’s breath is stuttering in his chest, cunt still pulsing, but he’s still asleep.

Eskel is starting to think this might be too good to be true, but fuck it, he’s not going to look this gift horse in the mouth. 

He carefully pulls his fingers from Geralt’s body, not bothering to clean the mess from them, and then slowly moves again, until he’s on his knees between Geralt’s thighs. The shift of the furs lets in some of the colder air from the room, and Geralt shivers and grumbles, but still doesn’t wake; instead, he just pushes closer to Eskel, clearly just blindly seeking heat. Eskel grips his hips and helps, gently tugging him down the bed and then up, into Eskel’s lap, thighs spread wide around his hips. 

From there, it’s easy to lean down, caging Geralt’s limp body in with his own, pressing them together from their hips to their throats. Geralt murmurs some more in his sleep, turning his head and nuzzling against Eskel’s cheek before snoring loudly into his ear.

He bites his lip against a laugh and shifts back a little, so he can kiss along the soft, vulnerable stretch of Geralt’s throat, then along his collarbone, and further, down to his chest, tracing along the long-familiar scars there, barely even noticeable from age and all of the other, newer scars to obscure them. Eskel has the shape of them memorized, though, because he memorized the shape long before they were scars – when they were still wounds, fresh and tightly-stitched from the work one of the mages had done, upon Geralt’s request, to remove the extra fat that still remained after his second Trials.

Geralt shivers again, arching closer to Eskel’s mouth, and Eskel grins, sliding his hand under his Wolf’s back to help, holding him in the arch so they’re pressed even tighter together at the hips.Like this, all he has to do is shift a little to the side and he can grind them together, his cock slipping easily through the wet mess Geralt’s made, the feeling of Geralt’s cock throbbing and twitching against his just as thrilling as it always is, as it always has been.

“Perfect, Wolf, gods,” Eskel breathes, and moves from worshiping those scars to mouthing over his nipples, already puckered and hard, probably mostly from the cold but definitely not just that. Geralt gives a low, rumbling little groan as Eskel sucks at them, hips jerking, and Eskel grunts at the friction of it, forgetting to mind his teeth for a split second.

He freezes as Geralt makes a high, pitched noise, and once again he’s certain that this will be the moment Geralt finally wakes. He finds himself holding his breath, even, waiting for Geralt to grunt and open his eyes.

It never happens. Instead, Geralt makes another rumbling sound in his chest and sighs, then shifts, turning his head to the side and letting out a long breath. 

Eskel can feel his cock dripping precome, making even more of a mess between Geralt’s thighs. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, all but a whine, and leans to one side so he can get his fingers between them again.

This time, he doesn’t worry too much about gentle or careful. He’s fairly certain that if Geralt hasn’t woken up yet, he probably won’t, at least not until Eskel gets his cock into him, and fuck, if that doesn’t make him throb. He starts with two fingers again, just to be sure, but adds a third quickly after, and then, when Geralt just whines and rolls his hips up, a fourth, too. 

It’s a bit harder to rub at his cock with four fingers buried in his hole, but Eskel has plenty of practice with it, and he hardly minds the difficulty or strain on his wrist. The sound Geralt makes this time, when Eskel rubs at the base of his cock with his thumb, is almost more of a shout. 

He just presses harder, then, curling his fingers to catch on that soft, sensitive spot just inside him. Geralt gives that same almost-shout, and for the first time reacts more than some squirming and sound, his fingers tightening in the sheets to their side, nearly enough to tear the thin fabric.

“So good, Wolf, so fucking perfect,” Eskel whispers, and leans forward to mouth up his throat, soft and open-mouthed and wet. Geralt reacts to that by twisting his head back and away, offering up more pale skin, his still-sleep-deep breathing stuttering a little.

Eskel’s cock jumps between them, flexing so hard that the pulse of precome that follows splatters over Geralt’s belly. 

“One more, Wolf, wanna feel you come around my fingers again,” he murmurs, sucking at Geralt’s earlobe before kissing his way back down to his chest to nibble and suck at his nipples. “Just like this, gods you feel so good….”

He moves his fingers faster, then, still keeping them curled so he can rub against that perfect spot, murmuring endearments and encouragements around sucking kisses to Geralt’s chest. Between the lack of defenses Geralt’s slumber offers, body lax and limp even as he trembles and twitches, and Eskel’s decades of experience with Geralt’s body, it doesn’t take very long.

“Go on, just like this, fuck, Wolf,” Eskel is nearly babbling at this point, holding on to his own self-control by a thread, overtaken by how much he loves Geralt – in general and like this, sleep-soft and open and trusting, knowing that Geralt trusts him to do this, to take pleasure from and give pleasure to him when he’s unconscious. He’s grinding against Geralt’s hip almost absent-mindedly, more focused on the movements of his fingers, making sure that he’s doing everything he can to give Geralt more pleasure.

He feels the moment the tension snaps in the way Geralt’s hips jolt and his breath cuts short and then speeds; this time, it’s intense enough to have his little cock swelling up, and Eskel quickly shifts to get his other hand around it, squeezing tight and massaging with his fingers as Geralt’s cunt squeezes around his knuckles.

“Good, Wolf, so godsdamned perfect,” he breathes, his own cock threatening to swell with nothing more than some measly friction and the bone-deep satisfaction of getting Geralt off without even waking him up.

At this point, he knows an awake Geralt would be telling him to get on with it, so as soon as Geralt’s finished panting and clenching rhythmically, Eskel takes his hands away and shifts again, setting the head of his cock against the swollen, messy hole his fingers just vacated. Even just that sensation, the hot, silk-slick press of Geralt’s folds around him, has his heart stuttering alongside his breath. He fumbles one hand to Geralt’s hip and the other to the bed, using it to lean on as he rocks his hips and slowly sinks inside.

Geralt whimpers, loud and high, and Eskel doesn’t bother pausing to see if he’s woken, now. If he has, well, he’ll be thrilled with the wake up call; if he hasn’t, then Eskel gets a little more time with him pliant and soft and perfect like this.

“Good, Wolf, gods you take me so well – like you were made for it, for me, swear you were, fuck – ”

It takes a good bit of self-restraint, but he stops when he’s hilted, letting Geralt’s body adjust to the stretch, giving himself a chance to catch his breath so he doesn’t shoot off immediately. It’s been years, decades since he’s been able to see his own cock through Geralt’s belly, but all the same he drags his palm over the spot, putting gentle pressure there as he settles his thumb and index finger on either side of Geralt’s cock, still swollen hard and pulsing. 

He takes another few moments to steady himself, and then he’s moving again, rocking his hips in tandem with his fingers, tugging and squeezing at Geralt’s cock in the same rhythm. Already, even with the minutes to calm down, he can tell this will go quickly – he’s too wound up, and Geralt feels too fucking good, tight and searing hot and clenching around Eskel’s cock like he could pull him any deeper.

It’s awkward, to bend at the waist and get his mouth back on Geralt’s chest, his throat, but he doesn’t care about the strain in his arm or his shoulder. Leaving his mark on Geralt’s skin, tasting him, is much more important than some soreness later.

“Feel like heaven, Wolf, gods, each year I think I remember how sweet you are and I’m wrong every time,” he whispers, right into Geralt’s ear, knowing that even if he can’t really hear the words, the idea will come across in his dreams.

More than a few extra rounds have happened, like this, just because of Geralt describing the shape his dreams took while he was asleep under Eskel’s hands and ministrations.

Already, his knot is swelling, and each time he shoves it into Geralt’s messy hole and pulls it back out, he’s whining, unable to control the noise even if he wanted to. He’s not entirely sure he would even notice Geralt waking up, if he did right now, vision starting to blur as his hips stutter, grip on Geralt’s swollen little cock spasming along. 

“Gonna – fuck, Wolf, gonna tie you – been too long, you feel so fucking good.” He bites his way down Geralt’s throat, only just remembering to be gentle with it, until he finds the gnarled scar in the crook of his neck that fits the shape of Eskel’s mouth perfectly. It was one of the first scars Geralt ever earned, shortly after the ones on his chest, and as unconventional and barbaric as it may have seemed to anyone outside of them, Eskel has a matching one on his shoulder. 

At this point, there’s no need to try and open the tissue again; it’s long settled and stopped trying to shift and meld away, but he mouths across it all the same, dragging his canines along the rough surface of it and fitting them into the indents. 

“Fuck, fuck,” it’s getting harder to roll his hips back, his knot nearly catching on each thrust, and his breath is going erratic to match the pace of his hips, “gonna – gods, Geralt, c’mon, with me, just like this – let you knot my mouth, later, but wanna – ah, fuck, fuck – wanna feel it now – ”

It takes – more focus than it should, but he manages to tip his hips up, using his knees to hold Geralt at the right angle, making his cock grind over that inner sweet-spot with the thrusts he has left, and he feels the effect of them in how Geralt’s thighs tense bruise-hard around him, how his cunt clenches even harder and makes it near impossible to shove his half-flared knot back in.

“Like this, just like this,” he’s babbling, shifting his hand to wrap his fist around Geralt’s swollen cock, squeezing it tight at the same time he finally manages to sink his knot inside one last time and tie. “Fuck!”

For a split second, he thinks the odd echo of the word is just the blood rushing in his ears, but then he feels Geralt’s arms around his shoulders and blunt nails tearing into his back and he realizes that apparently knotting him was the thing that finally won over his dead sleep.

“Es – Es…. ‘Skel, fuck, fuck, please – ” 

He’s breathless and whining and Eskel barely has the wherewithal to hush him, instead just dragging his mouth up and over the curve of his jaw until he can find his mouth. The kiss is messy, more spit and tongues than any sort of coordination, but Eskel doesn’t mind, and from the way Geralt moans right into his mouth, he doesn’t, either.

Eskel squeezes his hand around Geralt’s little knot, tightening the grip until Geralt’s breath stammers and his body tries to jackknife, only stopped by where his hole is caught on Eskel’s knot and Eskel’s body in the way. When his lips smear away from Geralt’s, his Wolf is screaming, clawing up and down his back wildly as he rides his own overwhelming orgasm.

They come down slowly, more or less together, their breathing syncing easy, and their heartbeats right behind. Eskel mouths over that mark on Geralt’s throat again and gets a weak, reedy little moan about it, Geralt turning his head to mouth at its twin on Eskel’s throat. 

“Fuck, ‘Skel,” he rasps, after a moment. “How long – gods, I feel good.”

Eskel snorts, kissing along his jaw to find his mouth again. “Got you to flare in your sleep,” he murmurs. “Don’t know what time it is.”

“Wanted to stay awake,” Geralt sighs, and Eskel can hear the pout in it even before he leans back to find the expression on Geralt’s face.

“Mm, I’m glad you didn’t,” he replies, and hitches Geralt’s legs higher on his waist so he can twist and flop on to his back, grunting at the flare of pleasure as Geralt settles over his hips, cunt clenching around his knot again. Geralt is panting, too, at least.

“Yeah, I can tell,” he mumbles, but he lays down on Eskel’s chest without a fuss, yawning. “...gonna be sore, later.”

Eskel hums, already starting to drift off with his head on the pillows and Geralt’s weight pressing him down. “‘ll make it up to you,” he promises around a yawn of his own. “...later.”

Geralt huffs, but nuzzles his head under Eskel’s chin all the same. “You’d better.”

“Promise I will.” Even if Eskel didn’t know that Geralt’s just being a brat for the sake of it, he’d promise his Wolf just about anything under normal circumstances; slowly falling asleep under his weight, still tied, Geralt could get whatever he wanted out of him.

“Mm. Night, ‘Skel.”

“Night, Wolf.”

[hanahaki-disease]

Haven't I Given Enough?

Hermit! Tommy DSMP x Hermitcraft crossover fic

Chapter 2 | Where Fears and Lies Melt Away

Summary: The other side was confusing, to say the least, Tommy thinks. At least they haven't tried to kill him yet.

Word Count: 2420

Notes: Chapter title is from "Sanctuary" by Hikaru Utada

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It felt like a week before Stress saw the boy make any sign of life, though it was more like three days. Three days of careful monitoring and healing his injuries. Doc and her switched shifts now and then, most of the time was when she slept and he watched the boy or when Stress had to buy more supplies for both the kid and her base. And there were times when Stress felt as if the boy wasn’t going to wake up. Moments she’d be watching over him, making sure he was still breathing and his heart still beating, but his breath would hitch for too long and her heart would drop only for him to cough back to life. 

In the three days since he appeared, any information about him was kept between Iskall, Stress, Doc, and Xisuma. It was imperative, X had told them, that the others didn’t know about him until he figured out how he came to the server. Hermitcraft was a safe haven to many of the hermits, those who were hiding or who had fled from an evil in their past life. They relied on the safety the whitelist provided. They were at ease knowing that nothing could find and chase them, making them relive the worst moments in their lives.

But when he woke up, groggy, dazed, and very confused, the first thing Stress did was sit in the chair at the end of the bed. Waiting for when he noticed her.

He groaned when he propped himself up, leaning more on his left than his right. His eyes blinked rapidly for a few seconds as they tried to adjust to the sudden brightness of the room. The boy’s head turned to the right first, Stress watched him scan the chest monster that littered the ground of her base, then he turned to the left to stare out the window, watching the leaves rustle in the breeze. Eventually, the boy took notice of the other person in the room. 

She watched as he scooted further in his bed when he saw Stress, as if he was anticipating something from her. “Hello.”

The boy’s voice was a little raspy having been unused for a few days, “Where am I? Who are you?” 

“My name is Stress and you’re in HermitCraft,” she answered.

“Have you kidnapped me? Did Dream set you up to this?” He asked. “And don’t lie to me, I’ll take all your lives if you do.”

“I did not kidnap you. You were drowning in my pond three days ago and one of my friends and I rescued you,” Stress stood up from her seat and strode over to the brewing stand where the healing potion was almost finished. “I have no idea who Dream is but respawns are infinite so there’s no perma-death if that’s what you mean.”

The kid was quiet for a moment and Stress figured he was trying to wrap his head around the no perma-death, it made her wonder what kind of world he had come from. She knows that “joke” Iskall made a few days ago was supposed to be a joke, but something was telling her that it wasn’t. “Do you have any more questions?”

“Of course, I have more fuckin’ questions!” The kid yelled. “I woke up in a place I never fuckin’ been before talking to some random-ass lady who I’ve also never fucking met before in my life!”

Stress nodded her head and corked the healing potion and gave it a little shake, making sure the glistering melon wasn’t clumping at the bottom. “Valid, very valid. So ask your questions.” She walked up to the kid and gave him the potion before returning to her seat. “I’ll answer them to the best of my ability, love.”

“Is this poisoned?” He asked first, watching the glittery liquid inside swish from side to side.

“No,” Stress said. “You saw me make it, but if you want, I’ll take a drink to prove that it’s not.”

He uncorked the bottle and watched as a shimmery mist sprouted from the opening, leaving the smell of melting gold in its wake. A tell-tale sign it’s a health potion. Though the kid couldn’t rely on something like that, there were many times when he had to poison potions and had to make sure the smoke cloud hadn’t changed. It was difficult and took hours. This potion, however, was made in less than fifteen minutes, the average amount of time to brew a health potion. But, the kid still didn’t trust it. 

Stress walked to the bed, noticing his hesitation, “May I sit?” She sat at the end of the bed. Plenty of room between the two because she knows he doesn’t trust her, which is understandable, this is the first time they’ve met and it would be weird for him to give her his complete trust immediately. Stress took the bottle out of his hands and drank a little; a surge of energy rushed through her body and the particle effects began their ascension from her body, flurries of bright red swirls surrounding her. “See? It’s not poisoned.”

Handing the potion back to the kid, Stress watched as he took a few hesitant sips before finally finishing it. Just like herself, red swirls lifted off his skin to show that his body was absorbing the magic. “Why am I here? Why are you helping me? Do you want something?”

“I don’t know why you’re here,” Stress answered. “Our admin is trying to figure out both how and why you came to Hermitcraft, we have people here that want to stay safe and away from stuff, if they find out you’re here without coming the traditional way, they’ll freak.” The boy listened to her, trying to connect the dots in his head. “And I don’t need a reason to help you other than the fact that you were hurt and could’ve been dying. I could not stand for that, and neither could Doc, especially since you’re still a kid.”

“I’m not a kid!” The kid shouted. “I’m sixteen! But you still haven’t answered my question, lady, what do you want from me?”

“For you to get some rest and to get better.”

“Your lying,” he said. “No one does anything without getting something for themselves. So what is it?”

“Fine, you got me.” Stress pulled out her communicator and opened the private chat room to Xisuma ready and waiting. “I want you to tell my admin how you got here from wherever you came from so he can fix any bugs or glitches.”

“Ha! I knew it,” he said triumphantly. “I knew you were lying…wait, admin?”

“Yeah,” she says typing. “He said he’ll be here in a few minutes.”

“No! No! I don’t want to talk to him!” The kid shouts and for the first time since waking up, he gets out of bed. His breath quickened as he searched for a place to hide finding nothing in the not-yet-decorated base. “What if he attacks me for being here? I don’t want that asshole to kill me. He might kick me out or ban me because I fuckin’ trespassed on his server!”

“Oh, jeez,” Stress chuckles. “Xisuma couldn’t hurt a fly! That derp of an admin would never do that, and trust me, we have some hermits who’ve done some pretty intense stuff in the past and X never used it against him.” Stress patted the bed, signaling that she wants him to sit on the bed. “If you’re scared of being alone with him, I’ll stay with you.”

“No offense, lady, but I don’t trust you at all,” he says. “Hell, I don’t know if you're still lying to me, and your working with that bastard of an admin Dream!”

“And it’s perfectly fine to feel that way,” Stress slowly made her way to the boy. She could tell that whatever world he came from abused his trust; the people there used him for their own benefit, and he became a chess piece in someone else’s game. “But you need to tell our admin what you know so that he can help.”

“Why would he help me? I’m trespassing on his server and using up his potions and shit, he’ll probably beat the shit out of me and kick me out to the world hub!” The kid pressed himself along the wall. 

“I don’t think I could hurt a kid even if I wanted to.”

Stress looked behind her at the new voice. Clad in his usual green armor and purple-tinted visor, Xisuma walked through the empty base to where Stress and the kid were. His elytra fluttered behind him, trying to settle into a comfortable position after being used. In the few days that passed since the kids first arrived, Xisuma had changed parts of his armor. Bones became an accessory now that his bone farm was producing goods en masse. He had a skull propped on his right shoulder as a pauldron of some kind, the teeth just grazing his newly exposed arm (which Stress can say was the first time she ever saw his skin.) Across his torso was a reconstructed rib cage. The spine of it ended at his sternum and the rib stretched across him, making his chest larger than normal. Layered over his helmet was another skull, this one was more complete and intact, the jaw framed his face and added an extra inch to the already tall admin. If Stress didn’t know that this guy was her derp-filled, pacifist admin, she would be intimidated to all hell. Which was not a good way to prove to the frightened kid that Xisuma wasn’t someone to be scared of. 

“You say that and you’re wearing fucking bones!” The kid shouted. “Are those from the people you banned?! Did you kill them and made it a part of your stupid-ass get-up?!”

Xisuma chuckled and removed the extra skull, not that it did anything to deter the kids’ fear of the admin, he was still larger than everyone else in the room. “No, these are not from people I’ve banned.” The admin gave a far-off look for a quick second as if he was remembering something he regretted. “I’ve only banned one person once.”

“Then where the fuck did you get those bones from?! Your enemies?!” He yelled. 

“In a way yes,” Xisuma snapped back. “I have a skeleton farm and so I pieced together some of the nicer-looking bones for my suit this season.” He looked down at his garb. “Do you like it? I quite like it, but that’s not what I’m here to talk about.”

Xisuma walked to the seat at the foot of the bed and pulled up the admin panel, strings of code zipped in almost every direction on the light blue hologram. The sound of digital tapping was loud in the quiet room. “I know this is a tad bit late, but can you tell us your name?”

“Why the fuck would I tell you my name?” He said. 

“So that I can access your player history to see what server you came from,” Xisuma says, his fingers never leaving the screen. “I can’t look at your code without permission.”

“Can you see everything there?” The boy asked looking from Xisuma to Stress. “Can she see it?”

“Stress won’t be able to see anything on the screen, and neither can you because neither of you are admins,” X answered. “But yes, I will be able to see everything, but I’ll only allow myself to view your server history.”

The kid thought about it for a moment, “You’ll only look at my server history? And that’s it?”

“That’s it.” X nodded. “If that’s what you allow me access to, then that’s all I’ll be able to see.”

“Fine, my name is Tommy.”

“Is that your full name or your player name?”

“Is there any difference?”

Xisuma let his hands drop slightly, the admin panel following his left hand, tilting to give the admin an unobstructed view of the other player. “Well, a player has two names: their player name and their family name. A player’s family name is the one they normally go by, it’s what's most often displayed as your username. But their player name is what identifies them in the code, it’s slightly different than their family name because it usually has a piece that is the same as their parent or guardian.”

“What’s yours then?” Tommy asked. 

“My name is Xisuma, but my player name is XisumaVoid,” the admin explained. “The ‘Void’ part being given to me by my home village. Understand?”

 Tommy nodded his head, “So, if my family name would be ‘Tommyinnit’ would my player name would be ‘TommyinnitMoon’?”

“Well let’s try it.” Xisuma typed in the lengthy name and watched as the panel searched for a person with that name. The circle in the center of the screen chased its tail for a few seconds before popping an ‘Error’ in the admins’ face. “Nothing came up, any other guesses?”

Tommy wracked his brain for any more information about what his player name would be. Trying to remember if Dream had said it when he first joined the server, maybe Philza spoke it once or twice when they were world-hopping when he was younger. And then the faded figure of his mother came to his mind. It was a fuzzy memory from his toddler years, but it was one of the few of the life he had before Philza that never seemed to fade. 

He remembers looking up at his mother, her hair blending into the background and the dark blue hues of her jumper never seemed to stay the same color, as if he couldn’t quite remember what her jumper looked like exactly. But he remembers her speaking to someone, the blurry movement of her mouth speaking mumbled phrases to the man near them. “...player….?Oh…” Her words sounded like he was hearing her through water, jumbled and muffled. “TommylineMoon.”

“Tom…TommylineMoon.” Tommy finally spoke when he remembered why his mother spoke his player name. It was when they were being given a home. When the man he thought of as a father/uncle brought them to the server that became their home after living in the hub for so long and he couldn’t help but wonder where the man was now or what happened to the server they had to evacuate. 

************************************************************

Okay, so far, what do you guys think? Is it good?

I want to clear up any confusion on Tommy's player name. just like how Pearl's name is pearlescent, I wanted Tommy's to be something similar and I found the word 'opaline' and just smashed Tommy with that to create Tommyline. I know, I know, it's weird but it's my fic lol

Let me know what you guys think!!

Previous | Next | Masterlist

[munchkinfox-the-deviant-fox]

Anhedonia Chapter 1 Part 1

This turned out to be a lot longer than seemed reasonable for a post so I've split the chapter into 2 parts.

Rhene has long since accepted the fact that her life is boring. She works a job, she goes home to her cat, she has friends she can spend time with. Life is perfectly full of things that make most people perfectly content. But she's not. So maybe going back to school will give her the chance to improve things, change things, find a better a job. There's always a salary increase if you've got a Masters degree and what's a few loans compared to improving ones life? Oh! Ya know, she never got to study abroad as an undergrad! She could totally start off abroad! That's totally exciting, right? At least maybe she'll find something new to hyper-fixate on so she can pretend like her life isn't completely unfulfilling. Yeah, this is totally a great idea. What could possibly go wrong?

Tags: Long fic, slow burn, eventual poly MC, named MC

CW: None

Prologue <- Master List -> Chpt 1 Prt 2

Peace in Our Time

Rhen exhaled a long sigh weighed down by the weariness and exhaustion burdening her body. The bedroom door shut with a punt from her heel, feet kicking off shoes before shuffling across the carpet, her bag tumbling off her shoulder to the floor as she flopped onto the welcoming mattress and comforter.

It was only the first week of the foreign exchange program, but she had been run around and kept busy to the point of near-exhaustion. Yet, Rhen still had enough energy to smile, a hidden, secret feeling only for her. It was something she hadn’t felt in a hell of a long time: light and giddy with anticipation like an electrifying surge flooding her system. Memories of being a teen—a kid, really—walking through the painted and poster-ridden halls of high school, holding hands with a guy she couldn’t keep a coherent conversation with as she blustered and flustered after him… the picture saturated her memories. Being an adult now and not an absolute idiot of a teenager, Rhen knew she hadn’t been in love, but it sure had felt like it then, and it sure felt like it now. 

This wasn’t what she had expected from studying abroad. Studying? Sure, of course, maybe some sightseeing on the weekends. But not this. She never even hoped for something like this. The campus was sprawling, architecture ancient and awe inspiring, the students so diverse even despite their human appearance. The university town brought back memories of her time as an Undergraduate, living on campus. Though, back then, the apartments were a hell of a lot smaller. And here, the class selection was too good to be true. For years she had begrudged her university’s class unavailability and selection, but this… This was academic nerd heaven. Being able to learn Infernal, and Infernal and Ancient Human Linguistics was absolutely fascinating! Not to mention Spellcraft, Devildom History, Potions, Curses and Hexes. And magic. Holy shit, there was magic. Real magic! Practicing the Craft was a secret witches held tightly to their chest in the human world, but here?... Damn, she hadn’t been this excited about school in, well, a hell of a long time.

The monotony of life before the program: working a 50 hour work week, everyday, only to go home to sleep or watch a few hours of Netflix while eating microwave meals, was upended by this absolute chaos, and honestly? She couldn’t really complain. Hell, she was ahead of some of her classes just because she wanted to read the textbooks.

Was this all just a dream? A part of her trembled at the thought of this all just being a cruel imagining of her mind.

A yawn wrought open her jaw and she buried her face further in the comforter. She wanted to stay up, to keep reading: it felt like she didn’t have enough time in the day to do all the things she wanted to do. The fact that she even wanted to do anything was a fuckin Christmas miracle and she needed to ride out this wave of energy and motivation for as long as she possibly could and sleep was trying to interfere with her plans. Granted, maybe if she actually left her bedroom for anything besides school then maybe she could get more things done, but then that would increase the risk of running into one of her housemates. Could she even call them housemates? It was more like she was an unwanted guest in their house.

For the most part she had been successful in keeping out of sight of her devilish hosts. Since their first interaction her first night in the entrance hall of the house, Levi hadn’t spoken a word to her, nor had she really seen him, yet he still insisted on existing in her space and spamming her with texts. She almost thought that perhaps he had set up a bot to do his dirty work, if not setting alarms to remind himself to harass her.

Why? Because for some reason he was convinced she could get Mammon to pay his debts to the brother. How the hell he came to that conclusion she couldn’t fathom. Her tour guide and escort babysitter seemed to want as little to do with her as she did him. He walked her to campus and to each of her classes—if he decided to show up—and then home again, but every moment they spent within the vicinity of each other, he complained loudly about how annoying she was and how too good he was to be having to do the lowly task of watching over her safety. He was complaining to the wrong person: if it was up to her, she’d be on her own.

Aside from them, Asmodeus was the only other one who had seemed intent on interacting with her and that interest had faded after a day or two. Thank sweet baby Jesus. His flirting grated on her nerves, like he was making fun of her as he cooed over her while picking at her clothes with poorly hidden judgement.

Her DDD chimed again. And again, and again and again. She groaned, pulling the comforter over and around her. If the phone hadn’t been a gift from Lord Diavolo himself—it sucked that communication between the two worlds was impossible through human technology—she would have thrown the damn thing against the wall. It was either one of three people: Mammon, demanding to know where she was, Lucifer, who wanted to check on her and her progress with settling in in the most oppressive, cold manner she had ever experienced, or Leviathan. Leviathan, who continued to text her phone despite her obstinate refusal to even open his texts.

Another chime and Rhen reached for the offending device, the main screen nearly blinding her with LED brightness. Instead of the litany of unread messages, the time was what caught her attention and Rhen exhaled a whine. How did it get so late?! How was time so weird here?! Maybe it was the constant darkness of a never ending night that covered the Devildom, or maybe she just wasn’t counting down the monotonous minutes until something less boring happened like she used to.

“Human!” Mammon kicked down her door.

Then again, she was finding that her moments of peace and solitude were all too often disrupted. And that was saying something considering she had only been here a week.

“Yes, Demon?” The words slipped from Rhen, and she cringed at the brashness. On top of everything else, Rhen was having a hard time putting to words why exactly she kept slipping into a casual tone with Mammon. Maybe it was because he was a demon, or maybe because he was a shit, but she didn’t feel guilty being upfront with him, if not even a little mean. The part of her that used keeping up that socially expected niceness and politeness as a means of keeping people at her preferred distance? It was no longer her first go-to with him, the ingrained need to be passive and agreeable just… an anxiety that didn’t exist with him. Rhen didn’t care about making friends, so why was she treating him like he was one? Sure, demons hardly seemed to respond to polite requests and kind words, but that hadn’t stopped her a week ago.

So many things were changing.

It was unnerving and one hundo percento needed to just not be a thing.

Mammon scoffed, “Human, I need you to do my Devildom History assignment!”

“Absolutely not.” Rhen sat up, phone forgotten amongst the blankets, ruffling her wildly loose hair and yawning.

“Come oooooon! Lucifer will kill me if I don’t do well on the next test and I have a photoshoot to go to, so I can’t do it. Since we’re in the same class, you can totally just do my assignment too!” He laughed, so carefree and jovial, as if it was the most obvious thing to do.

“Nope.”

It was surprising to see a demon so easily fall to tears. No, actually, he was probably just trying to guilt her into saying yes and thought she’d cave under his waterworks. Too bad for him, “Instead, I’ll help you study and complete the homework yourself. Academic dishonesty is nothing to joke about. Come on, go get your books and I’ll help.”

Mammon paused and she could feel the scrutiny. Careful Mammon, don’t wanna pop a synapse thinking too hard. That was another, another thing: despite being a multi-millenium year old being, the demon was a bit of an idiot.

Whatever thought passed, he was quick to turn his nose up. Ah yes, the haughty asshole approach. Wasn’t Lucifer supposed to represent all things prideful?

“As if a human could help me. I’m Mammon, the great Avatar of Greed. Humans bow and revere me, and if they’re lucky, I might just help them. You, little Human, have nothing of worth to me.”

Holy shit, apparently human men weren’t the only ones with fragile egos. “Ah, my mistake. I thought you had come to my room, asking for my help. Must’ve gotten confused; my bad.” Maybe if she ignored him he’d just go away?

The ensuing silence meant he was going to give up and go bother one of his brothers, feeding Rhen just a taste of hope.

Yeah, she wasn’t that lucky.

Mammon, having kept to the door, further strode into her room, even going so far as to sprawl himself along the foot of her bed. The tilt of his head, the purposeful rise of his shirt, the simmering half-lidded expression he was giving her…

Ah. He was changing tactics.

Rhen rolled her eyes.

“If you did the assignment for me, I’d owe you a favor~”

Rhen cleared her throat, schooling her features and leveling the most uninterested expression with absolutely zero effort, “Why do you assume a favor from a demon sounds appealing to me? And you can stop: being pretty won’t get you what you want.”

The soft, almost ethereal expression hardened and he’s right back to being Mammon, “Why are ya so difficult, Human? Come on, I need to work! With Goldie still in Lucifer’s evil clutches, I have to get money somehow! Can’t you give me a break?”

Rhen sighed, closing her eyes and scratching her fingers over the crown of her forehead, “I’m sorry you had your credit card privileges revoked, but that’s on you. The only thing I can offer is to help with the homework. I’m not cheating for you, or anyone else. Take it or leave it.”

His displeasure was obvious and he scoffed, crawling off the bed in dramatic fashion and headed out the door, “I shouldn’t be surprised; it’s not like a lowly human could help me anyways.”

The salty-ass bitch!

Rhen brought her middle fingers up as the door shut. For a sliver of a moment she felt for the guy. As far as demons went, not being able to perform your sin sounded like it would be uncomfortable. She could get that. At least that’s how it made sense to her. Now that he was gone though—

Her cell phone chimed and Rhen whipped around to find the offending object, forcing it under her pillows. Insistent, manipulative, annoying as shit assholes! Did no one understand social-emotional boundaries?! Leviathan still wouldn’t leave her alone about finding Goldie—the fact that he named his credit card is… a lot—and tricking Mammon.

                                               OtakuWaterLizard

You can’t keep ignoring me!

                                                                             I’m really sorry, but my answer won’t change.

Make a pact with Mammon.

                                                                                      I’m sorry Leviathan, but I can’t do that.

Make a pact with Mammon.

Make a pact with Mammon.

Make a pact with Mammon.

Don’t you dare ignore me, Normie!!!

Make a pact with Mammon

Make a pact with Mammon

                                                                      If you want your money back, you should really talk to Mammon

I will not stop until Seraphina is avenged and I have my money back!

To do that, you need to find his credit card and then force him to make a pact with you!

Would this be never ending?

Would she never be allowed a moment of peace ever again?

Wait…

Another chime went off.

Fuckkk, this was the most stupid-ingenious idea. She had said she wouldn’t get involved, but holy fuck getting Leviathan off her ass and Mammon in a better mood would be worth anything at this point. And apparently the only way to do that was to find the damn credit card. Then she could give it to Mammon, tell Leviathan his plan is ruined, and live in relative fucking peace.

But only one person knew the whereabouts of the card, and if she wanted to find it…

That only meant one thing: talking to Lucifer.

“I am in literal and figurative hell.”

All morning she had been distracted, logic-ing out the best way to get what she needed. It didn’t help that she had no idea as to Lucifer’s schedule, but for once Mammon assisted her, supplying her with exactly what she needed: a time and place to ambush him.

Ambush, politely coerce if not beg: same difference.

She wanted to get there early, that way if Lucifer was ahead of schedule—he seemed like such a Type-A personality, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility—she wouldn’t miss her chance.

Being anxiously aware of the time, however, made everything drag out, keying her up even more so.

The second the professor dismissed class, Rhen was packing her bag, shoving pens and notebooks in haphazardly. The room was still bustling with students trying to leave the class and if she was quick enough she could dodge lingering demons hoping to eat her, find Lucifer before her next class, and evade-

“How are you holding up? Every time I see you, you’re always running off somewhere. The work isn’t too difficult for you? I could help tutor you if you would like.”

Dammit.

Rhen looked up, the pale sorcerer smiling down at her. Solomon—like, the Solomon, biblical king Solomon—was the other human exchange student, who, unlike herself, was an established sorcerer and is also inhumanly old despite his youthful appearance.

How in the hell did she get chosen for this program? It’s not like the other students were competition, but having herself next to Solomon as representatives of the human world… Man, she couldn’t even perform magic yet. It’s no wonder she’s caught eyes with demons as they—literally—circled her in the RAD commons. Rhen glanced behind Solomon, three demons lingering outside the door, glancing in at her and Solomon.

Yeah, these asshats weren’t subtle.

She smiled, beaming with enough cheer that she hoped Solomon was able to read her sarcasm, and at the same time the idea of him picking up on her irritation at being talked to being mortifying, “Oh, that’s sweet of you, Solomon. Thanks, but I’ve just been busy, settling in, ya know?”

“Ah yes, I imagine living in a house with six handsome demons can be very distracting.”

Rhen’s eyes narrowed, but her smile remained perfectly intact, “Honestly, any demon would make it difficult to settle.”

“If it would help, you should come to Purgatory Hall: Simeon and Luke are eager to meet you,” he said and for a moment her thoughts of active disdain for the man in front of her fell away.

“The other exchange students? You mean-”

“The students from the Celestial realm: angels, yes,” he said.

Rhen paused. Huh, she had been so immersed with the demons and the demon-world, she had completely forgotten that there was a flip side to this world that also existed. Hmm… She refused to ask Solomon for help—she’d rather punch Satan, Lord and avatar of Wrath and all things hissy-fitty—but maybe befriending some angels would be enough of an incentive to ward off the soul-hungry bottom feeders.

“That… would be nice. I’d love to meet them,” Rhen said, the first genuine smile ever directed towards the sorcerer. 

Solomon nodded, “The three of us are planning to go out to Café Lament to eat Friday; you should come.”

“You’re going into town?” Right, Solomon can go into the city with no worries since he’s a powerful wizard who commands 72 different demons, “I haven’t had a chance to explore the city. My babysitter only sticks around long enough to walk me to and from RAD…” Rhen huffed, and Solomon let out a laugh and for once it didn’t feel like he was being condescending.

“If you want, and your babysitter is being negligent, I’d be more than happy to walk around and show you the best places to go. Here, hand me your DDD.” Solomon held out his hand and she only hesitated a moment before letting it fall into his slim fingers. How taxing was this outing going to be? Sure, she was getting a bit cabin-feverish to the point where she was contemplating just taking a gamble on the roulette board of ‘Ways to Die or Get in Trouble’ and go for a walk in the woods surrounding the House, but… while she hadn’t found a reason to care about the only other human down here with her, making even the most basic of relationships was beneficial. Also, meeting angels was interesting as fuck and she would not miss that opportunity. Though, perhaps she should keep the ‘goddammit’s to a minimum around them… Would they be offended by that? “There, now we have each other’s number.” A tinge of smugness slipped onto his voice as he slipped Rhen her phone back.

She stood there, letting silence settle between them as she looked over the sorcerer. Pale skin and white hair, a slim build, he was honestly nothing special. She could admit he was physically attractive, but how he held himself—like he was always aware of some joke that no one else was in on—had been keeping Rhen constantly on edge. The fact that Lucifer had also warned her about Solomon only cemented the fact that she didn’t want to get involved with the dude.

Yet… according to myth? Legend? Solomon had control over 72 demons. So did that mean he had pacts with them? If so, maybe he could give her some insight on how they worked, or why Leviathan was so desperate for her to make a pact with Mammon.

Solomon cleared his throat, “Well I should-”

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

Solomon’s eyes widened before settling back into place, “Of course.”

Rhen fiddled, twisting and pulling at her fingers, “Your pacts… Why did you make them?”

He didn’t respond at first, watching the Rhen as she peered at him through her lashes. “Are you thinking of trying to get one of the brothers in a pact? That's admirable, especially considering how inexperienced you are. I’ve tried many times to make a pact with a number of the brothers; only Asmodeus has ever agreed.”

Rhen was too startled, her back straightening with a snap, to be offended by the backhanded comment, “You and Asmodeus? The socialite, Avatar of Lust, who comes onto anything he deems pretty and will only do things for his own pleasure? Huh. Well, that’s surprising.”

Solomon shrugged, giving her a sheepish smile, “Yes, he is rather like that, but there’s more to him than just being a flirt. I would not underestimate him, or any of them for that matter. That would be your first and last mistake.”

Her initial reaction was to scoff. Right, like Asmodeus would risk doing anything that threatened to break even a single nail, but Rhen caught herself. As much as she didn’t care for the guy, Solomon was… well, a powerful sorcerer, and the Lords of the House of Lamentation were much older and much more powerful than Rhen could ever imagine a human becoming. Shit, he was right. Most of her interactions were with Mammon and Leviathan by proxy, both of whose personalities mirrored those she associated with idiotic humans. They had their flaws—intense flaws—but if she pushed them enough, even by accident, they could probably completely erase her from existence. And Rhen was pretty sure Lucifer wouldn’t stand against one of his brothers for her meager safety.

Rhen shook her head, shifting her weight, “No, I’m not interested in making a pact. I’m just curious as to how it works. From how Leviathan talks about it, it’s all about subjugation. Is that it? You trick or overpower demons and collect them like Pokémon?” She asked, her curiosity quite genuine.

Solomon laughed, and Rhen frowned, turning away out towards the window to mask her reaction. There it was again: the oh-you-sweet-naive-girl-why-don’t-you-know-this-supposedly-obvious-thing vibes. Green light washed over her face as she moved towards the window overlooking one of the alley alcoves that sat nestled, innocuous, throughout the campus. A little stone bench surrounded by bushes-that-weren’t-quite-bushes, flame beetles flickered in and out of sight, the insects Devildom fireflies more-or-less.

Solomon mirrored her only moments later, “I guess some would see it like that, yes. As for me, I’ve made a large number of pacts, all for various reasons and all through various means. I would warn you though: if you are considering making pacts, I would wait until you’ve gained some proficiency with your magic. Pacts are an extremely complex magic; most don’t attempt to make one unless they’re certain they can withstand any potential backlash.”

Backlash?

“What do you mean?”

Even though he didn’t, Solomon sure as hell looked like he wanted to give one of those big, exasperated sighs, “No pact made is the same because pacts are contracts—promises—made between two individuals, usually a human and a demon, which is reinforced by magic. What goes into a pact depends on the two making it. There are some who make pacts that have an equal exchange between the two parties, a symbiotic relationship, but there are others who make pacts by tricking or overpowering an individual. Those ones are much more common. If a party breaks a component of their pact, there tends to be significant consequences.”

Rhen nodded, humming. So, that’s why Leviathan wanted her to make the pact: with Mammon’s credit card, Leviathan could pretty much force Mammon into accepting all kinds of terms and conditions, and if he broke the pact, he’d be punished for it. Leviathan wanted to use her as a means of absolute control over Mammon.

Yeah, fuck that.

And thinking of– She’d dawdled too long.

Meeting Solomon’s curious gaze, Rhen smiled, “Thank you, Solomon, for satiating my curiosity.”

“I’m glad I could help.”

She turned, gathering her things, glancing at the time, “I’ll text you later and let you know my schedule for Friday. Later!”

Solomon nodded, waving as Rhen ran out of the classroom.

“Lucifer!”

Rhen went over her made up script again in her head, needing to not flub this. As idiotic as the brothers seemed (to be fair, she had only really held a decent conversation with 2 of them), Lucifer… well, wasn’t. He was what she had kind of expected a demon to be: intelligent, cold, demanding, and domineering. Red eyes that stared into her soul, ink black hair groomed in a way that suited suave, intellectual types. The fact that he was either always in his school uniform or in a suit with his coat hanging off his shoulders like a frickin’ cape was somehow even more intimidating. It only made sense that she was a bit terrified of the dude. Lord Diavolo wasn’t even that chilling. But trying to lie or be clever prooobably wouldn’t go over too well with Lucifer; the deceit would only put her in a bad light and the chances of him seeing through her bullshit were high.

So half truths it was.

“Good afternoon, Rhen. You’ve become quite the celebrity here, haven’t you? And you’ve made it through the week without being eaten. Good for you.” Red eyes glanced around behind her, “Where is Mammon? He is supposed to be with you outside of class at all times,” Lucifer’s eyes narrowed, pinning Rhen to the spot, “Unless you are not in between classes? You know, it would look poorly on you, and therefore me, if you were skipping.” Those piercing, always staring eyes always kept Rhen on edge, and the fact that he had a cool smile leveled at her only made the fact that he was so nonchalant over her well being even more terrifying.

“What? No! Of course I’m not skipping! I–” Rhen cleared her throat. Right, let’s try not to yell at the scariest motherfucker. “I mean, no, I am not skipping. I wanted to find you, and Mammon was complaining about not having time to grab something to eat. So, since I’d be with you for a few minutes I told him he should go and get something while he could.” Please believe the lie. Please believe the lie!

“It is Mammon’s job to ensure your safety. He cannot do so if he is not with you.” Lucifer sighed, “I will have to remind him of his duties.” Collecting himself, he refocused on Rhen, “You said you were looking for me?”

“Yes, I was actually looking to find you because I had a question I was hoping you could help me with,” she smiled, polite and as perfect as her nervousness allowed her.

Lucifer tilted his head, “If it is within my power, I will answer as best I am able.”

Rhen took in a deep breath, “So, theoretically, if a student were to have an item confiscated from them, what would happen to it? I imagine how human universities and demon universities handle that sort of thing differ from one another. How involved does the student council get with the personal lives of its students? It’s a thought I had that could help with my end-of-year paper.” Lucifer can’t not answer considering it’s a question that affects how she performs as a student!

The shift of his expression was minimal, a slight narrowing of his eyes. Rhen held her breath.

“I suppose it doesn’t hurt to tell you. Compared to other schools, RAD traditionally allows its students quite a bit of freedom. However, if the student council decides that a student possesses something that is causing problems, we confiscate it. Sometimes we return the item after an amount of time, sometimes we don’t. Any particular reason you asked?”

Rhen nodded, her smile faltering as she tugged and fiddled with her fingers. It was only a moment before she was able to hide the nervous tell, “Well, you see… Mammon is my delegated chaperone; however, he is still a demon, and hence has certain advantages over me… As Student Council President and his older brother, is there any… advantage I could use? Something for leverage?”

“Are you implying that I know his weaknesses and can exploit them when I like?” The subtle smug expression did nothing to encourage Rhen to try and refute his statement, “I suppose that is true in a way, but that’s not the only reason Mammon cannot say no to me. Mammon has many weaknesses, however, it is not my place to just freely give them out to whoever may ask. I may have, however, taken one particular weakness of his and frozen it, but the others you will have to discover for yourself, understand?”

“Ah, yes, of course. Thank you.”

Lucifer nodded, “Yes, well, I must be off. Take care not to be late for your next class, Rhen.”

“Of course.”

Rhen watched Lucifer walk down the hall and around the corner, a loud exhale filled with panic and relief leaving her practically deflated against the wall.

Holy shit. He knew. He had to know! There’s no way he couldn’t. Yet he mentioned freezing the account. Which seemed stupid. Of course he’d freeze the account if he didn’t want Mammon spending money. That was probably the most obvious thing she’d ever heard Lucifer say to date.

Rhen chewed on her lip.

She couldn’t say she knew Lucifer; they’d barely spoken aside from status updates, but he practically oozed control-freak vibes.

Lucifer was the type to always have a reason for what he did. So why did he say something so… dumb?

Wait…

Why would he freeze the account and then take the credit card? If the account’s frozen, he wouldn’t physically need the card to prevent Mammon from using it… What did Lucifer say? He took one of Mammon’s weaknesses and froze it? No, ‘and frozen it’ was what he said. How do you freeze a credit card aside from through the credit lenders? It’s not like he shoved it in the freezer or something.

Incredulous disbelief washed Rhen from the inside out.

No… He couldn’t be serious. He wouldn’t possibly do something that obvious.

Not that having a credit card sit in a freezer was an obvious, normal thing to have, but it seemed much too… silly of a thing for Lucifer to do. Could there possibly be a not-so-serious side to the first born?

That thought was much too unnerving to focus on. No, no it kind of made sense. It’s something so not-Lucifer that no one would ever think of it. That totally had to be it! Rhen glanced at her DDD for the time. If she was quick, she could make it back to the dorm, grab the card, make it to class, and then give the damn thing to Mammon when he came to pick her up. Little shit better be grateful.

He wouldn’t be, but Rhen was kinda okay with that.

Hopefully no one was in the kitchen and whoever had cooking duty wasn’t keeping on top of things.

[zannolin]

☔☔☔ hit me with em chief

☔Is there a fic concept you have that you'd like to just explain and share because you're not sure you'll ever write it? If so, what is it?

god. GOD. there's so many. case in point:

i'll just infodump about whichever ones come to mind because i just woke up and i'm waiting for my coffee to kick in so i can read paradise lost book four.

first, i think i've mentioned the final girl au on my blog before but just to remind everyone it exists: the final girl au. this is for resident evil village where the premise is what if mother miranda yoinked ethan instead of mia and mia was the one who had to go after rose. did i create this solely so i could have ethan live and also write the house beneviento scenes as even more fucked up? yes. yes i did. i love mothers in horror. i haven't written it because it requires replotting of literally the Entire game and i'm so tired okay just SO tired but i have a lot of plot done (in my head) and i think there's so much symbolism and character development i could explore given the chance. mia winters my queen. get behind me i'll protect you from the fandom.

the shazam apple au: okay so there's this deleted/alternate scene from fury of the gods where instead of just throwing the apple to mary to get it away from kalypso, billy just takes? a fuckin bite out of it? actually several bites. he goes to TOWN on that thing it is the most unsettling thing i've ever witnessed. i thought it would be fun if wonder woman didn't deus ex machina things and billy stays dead longer than he does in the movie. he comes back, but it involves the apple (tree of life, and all that) um. growing. twirls hair. mild horror and such.

event horizon: um okay so you know the cave of memory in five kingdoms? (no you don't. i'm sure.) well tl;dr there's this place in necronum where if you go in, you leave behind an imprint of yourself that's basically you frozen in the moment you visited, with all your memories and personality, but unable to grow or retain new memories. stuck there forever. lol. and i in my jace/coleness was like hey, jace goes to visit the imprint because he can't deal with going to see real cole who is steadily forgetting the outskirts and all of them exist, and at least this version knows who he is, even if he can't remember anything new. so it's this fic that's almost like a timeloop: snapshots of every time jace visits him and imprint!cole obviously not remembering each one for the next round, and you see jace slowly get older and deal with the fact that he has to move on someday. except he's never been very good at letting go.

um i also had this idea that was like okay, what if ramarro sort of wins in the initial showdown in time jumpers and he puts cole in the void like he threatened, and then there's an underground rebellion trying to get him out so they can face ramarro and try to take him down again. this ends up involving jace taking the last artifact/potion, the one they didn't use, which sends someone forward a hundred years or whatever. i kind of didn't plot it much past that because 1) it was a frivolous jace/cole concept and 2) well

yeah.

finally i just think that someone should write a fic about warren and dale from fablehaven but i'm not unhinged enough. yet.

i have many many many such concepts i may never write. but i sure love talking about them.

send me wip asks!!

[ess-presso]

IM BACK! okay lets see. favourite colour...prob green. maybe blue. sometimes purple. it changes a lot but rn its green lol. and im a scorpio! my bday is on halloween so i like to imagine that if i lived in the marauders era i would share my bday party with sirius🫶 fav marauders era girl.... that is such a tough one. i adore them all so very much, but id have to say either marlene or pandora. fav tv show....hm... i used to be a supernatural fan (derogatory) but the past is (thankfully) behind me. i love arcane & the umbrella academy, and also what we do in the shadows! OH and our flag means death. gay pirates are apparently my kryptonite. and the bowie lyric is "turn and face the strange" from changes! (every time i look at it it makes me think of remus in atyd with the wolves and makes me giggle fr)

and ty again for the fic rec <3 ill give u one in return: of pinstripes and potions by pansysnarkinson (jegulus forced proximity in the hospital wing, but the author is currently writing a rework here which is also very good)

now for old times sake i simply have to give more taylor songs to do: dont blame me, long story short, and so it goes🌟

okay now your turn. whats your zodiac sign? fav colour? fav tv show? fav marauders era girl? fav marauders era ship? (i know i could never pick just one but wolfstar, dorlene, and jegulus have my heart) OH and from that ask game you reblogged the other day! 20, 25, 29!

-bee

bee bee bee hello hello i love u <333

i so feel you on that favourite colour keeps changing thing . because SAME. there are so many good colours how am I to choose ???

and a halloween birthday ??? dude u got born on the day lily & james got done in by voldemort. but that’s such a cool bday honestly.

marlene & pandora is a vv good choice i love both of them with all my heart and soul.

now the tv shows -

i haven’t watched any of the ones you speak of , unfortunately. I consider myself more of a ‘comedy/chill’ girl & stuff like supernatural and umbrella academy looks like it’d stress me out.

HOWEVER . ‘gay pirates’ sounds very interesting , and i’m going to be checking that out for sure.

turn and face the strange ??? on god that’s such a good line , honestly. you’re fucking awesome and AHHHHHH. (in my head remus would love that tattoo)

i wanted a tattoo of something nice. my frontrunner is a lyric from ‘you’re my best friend’ by queen (very nice and niche i love them & this song.. here r the frontrunners for the lyrics -

me - ‘whatever this world can give to me’ // my best friend -‘it’s you , you’re all i see’

me -‘in rain or shine’ // him -‘you stood by me girl’

and one option is from ‘little freak’ by hs - me - ‘little freak’ // him - ‘jezebel.’

(upon writing this it sounds very cringe so i’ll say it would be on our foot or some concealed place. and also that this is a joke. i just want a symbol)

but i cannot convince him to do this. he’s way too fucking scared. I reckon i’ll be able to convince him soon enough , though ( if i promise him mcdonald’s hasbrowns for long enough ) maybe we’ll do our constellations , if he’s too scared of lyrics. or our birth month flowers maybe ?? something , for sure.

vis a vis fic recs - I’VE READ OF PIN STRIPES AND POTIONS. I’ve been there since the author was still on chapter seven , i’m a big fan of their writing . it’s so so so good i loved it literally so so much :))))

NOW FOR OLD TIME’S SAKE -

don’t blame me - JEGULUS - now , i’m veering a little about of canon. for me (in doa especially) either of them would go CRAZY for the other one. like fuckin tip the world apart if anyone ever did something to the other , you feel me ? and and , in doa , i have 3 don’t blame me moments planned (one is jegulus, one is wolfstar , one is rosekiller.) highly likely we’ll get a dorlene one , if i find a place to fit it in.

long story short - JEGULUS & ROSEKILLER - now , in canon , i think the line ‘i tried to pick my battles till the battle picked me’ is very regulus (& my boy hjp , but i digress) like can u imagine reg being like ‘yes james i choose u’ and then his parents imperiusing him until he takes the dark mark ??? my heart broken. ‘you passed right by’ james ignoring him after they broke up. my heart is so sad atm. it’s rosekiller (especially in the context of doa) because of the line ‘long story short it was the wrong guy , now i’m all about you’ , and this is vv much barty to evan . like so so much this line , it’s just HIM.

so it goes - JEGULUS - first of all , this is a criminally underrated song. i love it and no one ever talks about this one. Second , jegulus because ‘gold cage , hostage to my feelings’ - james is the gold cage , regulus not wanting to feel those things for him BUT HE DOES HE DOES. this song is so sexy honestly truly .

fic rec time - ‘don’t blame me, love made me crazy’ by coupe_de_foudre’ - (one shot ft secret dating jegulus , james has a quidditch accident , vv cute oneshot i love it.)

now to answer questions -

zodiac sign - pisces. i notice you’re a scorpio. very sirius and remus of us .

favourite colour - like u , it keeps changing. right now it’s pink , but a while ago it was yellow. but for now , pink. i love this colour so much , very dear to me.

fave tv show - F.R.I.E.N.D.S. Without a doubt, this show is like a cup of hot chocolate for me. always soothes me and makes me laugh. i also love himym (fuck the ending , barney+robin 5ever) & b99 .

fave marauder era girl - lily evans. hands down , no competition. she birthed the wizarding saviour , she schooled severus snape , she is the moment , she is everything. love her.

favourite marauder era ship - i simply cannot choose. i cannot and will not choose. my top four , however are (in no particular order) - wolfstar (the ogs) , jegulus ( best friends brother is the one for me) , dorlene ( enemies to lovers lesbians) , jily (parents) .

ask game -

20. tangled. no doubt. i loved it so much when it came out that i bought the blonde wig and everything. had a doll. BUT. Tiana (the princess and the frog??) is a close second.

25. yes , stellar taste. taylor swift , queen , bowie , hozier & 1D. amazing taste.

29. fusilli. the curly just does something to me .

now now now. for ur next ask i give u more questions to answer -

have u ever seen a moose ? (always wanted to ask a canadian this )

is it like minus a billion degrees all the time up there ??

what’s your favourite fic of all time? like all time. ( or top 5)

favourite golden trio era ship ?

do you write fic ? (if yes , where can i find it pls and thank you)

tea or coffee ?

go to outfit ?

how many piercings ?

& what course do u take / what’s your desired career path / what’s your favourite subject?

and a fun fact about you !

(bee feel free to give me more taylor songs to do. ‘tis our tradition , after all.)

[lumiereswig]

Ok, but what about someone slipping Lumiere a love potion meant for Plumette?? And now Lumiere is even MORE in love with her (IS THAT POSSIBLE!?) and whoever was pining over Plumette is just... SOL??? (idk, man, I need to lay off the coffee)

HOLY MOTHERFUCKING SHIT nobody ever TOLD me that this prompt was POSSIBLE. i was about to go to bed but GUESS WHO’S WRITING FANFIC NOW, BITCHES

“I don’t want the child,” saysAgathe, again. She stands against the churchyard steps, confusion evident inher tilted eyebrows and blank eyes, watching the woman babbling on before her.

“You always do,” says thewoman.

Agathe’s eyes are very blank and very calm. The village woman does not know how much danger she is in.

“It’s a witch-thing, innit? And I have a babe. And I have a demand,” says the woman. “And it will only take aminute of your time—why, I’m sure you have loads of the potions in yourpockets, just crawling with toads and newts-eyes and such-on….”

Agathe blinks, quietly. All that isin her pockets is owl feathers.

The woman sighs. “Fine. Do it forthe justice, right? You witches like justice. Isn’t that why you cursed all ofthem, then?” Her hand waves toward the village, the forest, the palace—thepalace where, as Agathe knows, Lumiere is at this moment sitting in his room,nursing a cold. He is trying to tell jokes to Plumette through a stuffed-upnose. He makes his darling laugh as she curls up beside him on the bed; and Plumettedoesn’t care if she gets sick too, for all she wants is to giggle with herlove. 

“Justice,” says the woman, grabbingAgathe’s arm, and the enchantress’s attention is drawn back to this moment. Amoment which, Agathe thinks, is lasting forever.

“He’s gone gallivanting off withthat girl,” says the woman, bitter as a sour apple. “She’s lured him off, withher Parisian wiles. He’s lost his wholesomeness beside her! How can youstand for that?!”

Agathe checks in on the girl’s Parisianwiles. Plumette is currently engaged in putting marshmallows into Lumiere’s hotcocoa. She’s trying to poke them into a smiley face for him.

“It’s time he loves me again,” hisses the woman.“I was his first.”

You are lucky you are not mylast, thinks Agathe. Thereis a broken musket buried deep in the forest near her hovel. It was once aman.

“So?” The woman shoves forward herchild—a little girl, only just in skirts, with no idea of what her mother begsfor. “A child. A love potion. You like love, don’t you?”

Agathe does like love. And thechild would probably like to see an owl. And the wheedling woman has her pinnedagainst the church.

“Here,” she says, and fetches intoher deepest pocket. She pulls out a jar. “Oh, no—not that one—that’s my jam.”She pulls out another. “Here. Look away.”

The woman looks at her askance, fora moment. Begrudgingly, she turns her eyes away.

The child—little Crevette, daughter of the war widow, with a papa killed in the faraway gunfire—stareswith big, brown eyes as Agathe’s face glows gold, then disappears. TheEnchantress peers out, her hands glowing as she gestures over the small bottle.Its contents turn purple—then red—then a hot, rich burgundy. It looks likesummer wine. It looks like just-crushed grapes.

Agathe’s face returns, and shesmiles at the child. Takes Crevette’s hand, with cautious fingers, fingers thatleave no sense of touch. She hands the jar to the woman.

“Be careful,” she says. “It isheady with marjoram.”

The woman is gone without sayinggood-bye.

Lumiere welcomes her in, of course. He always welcomes anyone in.

He even remembers her name—Puce Enervant—though it’s been many, many years since he last saw her. They discuss what have become common affairs around the village—the way the curse lay across the houses; the enchantment of forgetting the lure of the palace. Puce’s mouth is very tight, and wicked, and she beams at Lumiere as she pushes the potion toward him.

“To help you with your cold.”

“Madame! You fill me with affection.” He has a hazy, dazed memory of kissing Puce once—at an ice cream social, when he was about fourteen—but it’s been so long he is sure she forgot. She was married, after all. “How is your child?”

“Oh.” Puce sneers. “Not much concern of mine. Just gets in the way and stays silent. Once I live here, I can hand her off to another of the village girls.”

“You can—pardonez-moi?”

“Once I live here.” Puce grins at him; or, at least, she widens her mouth and shows her teeth. He is spreading the potion on toast with his long, thin fingers, and is momentarily distracted by how small and wicked she looks. Like a knife out in a meadow. Like a spider, ready to bite.

“Madame. You know I love another.”

“Do you, now?” Smile tighter and wider still. Lumiere is concerned about her digestion. Looking so frightening must have an affect on the stomach.

Puce says, “Don’t tell me you mean that Parisian wench. Wicked, wicked. Not worth your time. Probably the source of your cold, I shouldn’t wonder!”

Thoughts of being kind to Puce Enervant quench into smoke in his head. He rises, and his hands are shaking. “Pardonez-moi? Do not repeat that.”

“Parisian wench. Not worth your time. Go on, have your toast.”

He bites down on it, and his voice shakes. A sneeze clouds the effect, but he can still be threateningly suave. “Plumette is the most beautiful creature I have ever witnessed, and the kindest, brightest, sweetest, dearest, most heavenly soul to ever exist. Our toast is at an end, Madame.”

“Yours is.” Puce sits back, and grins. “Now I just sit and wait for you to love me, Parisian boy.”

She makes sure she is right within his line of vision. Right where he can see her. Right where she can be his one, true, fair, poisoned love.

And it is right then—with an overpowering sneeze that can be heard halfway to Austria—that Lumiere’s head bangs onto the table, reorients itself, and witnesses Plumette as she enters the room.

Mon dieu. The heavens opened wide. He forgets her name for a moment because all he can grasp is that here he is seeing the one and only true point to the universe. All of history and time and men dying in battles and women going to witches and little girls seeing magic has all led up to this: a woman with a feather-duster asking him if he wants more marshmallows.

He is dizzy with the magic of it.

“No! No! Me! It was me,” hisses—the other. Whoever. That thing. It’s not the divine creature in front of him. It isn’t the kiss of the entire pantheon of gods, as this heavenly goddess in front of him completely is.

Plumette is not entirely shocked when he throws himself onto his knees in front of her. The vowing his eternal devotion and swearing (upon what she likes, though nothing whatever is worthy of her eyes) that he will serve her forever is fairly de rigueur. It is like Lumiere to kiss his way entirely up one arm, and across her neck, and down the other arm without stopping, breathing heady phrases that involve ‘heaven’ and ‘divine’ and ‘more beautiful than the morning air.’ The combination of all these things at once, though, is rather startling.

She glances at Puce, though her gaze is somewhat encumbered by the worshiping maître d’ at her feet. “Who are you?”

Puce scowls and gathers her things. “Nobody, apparently,” she says. Lumiere nods enthusiastically and returns to Plumette. 

Puce stomps the long way home. She doesn’t want to see Crevette. She doesn’t want to see Agathe. She wants to bite the witch’s face, and scream that Lumiere got away.

Lumiere, again, loves only Plumette. It should be an easy ending.

But love potions are never easy.

Plumette enjoys this romantic streak, but after three days she worries. It is like Lumiere to adore her, but now he does it to such extent he lets everything else slide, lets it flick away as if it doesn’t matter. He barely remembers Cogsworth’s name. Belle and Adam have been eating off paper napkins, too intimidated to ask for silverware. Every waking moment—and many of her sleeping ones—find Lumiere at her side, asking how to exalt her, how he is unworthy of her graciousness. It isn’t wholesome. He doesn’t laugh. He only wants to love her, without looking to himself.

On the third day, she pins him to the bed. He gasps from ecstasy.

“Mon amour! Mon amour. Non, don’t pass out.” He can’t bear it when she loves him back. She is too perfect, too flawless, too divine. She shakes him and he almost cries.

“How can I serve you, beloved beyond beloved?”

“Mon dieu, stop it.” She has one knee on his chest to hold him down. She flicks away his kisses as he reaches for her arms. “Lumiere? Cheri? You know I love you—”

“How can one love a gnat, a flea, a speck of sand—”

She puts one hand over his mouth. He is absolutely going to faint, but keeps talking anyway.

“—I am nothing! Nothing! And you are the skies, and bigger than the skies, and I live only to adore you—”

Plumette sighs and tries to giggle, but he looks too sleep-deprived to make it fun. She removes her hand. “Serve me by staying quiet as I speak, mon cheri.”

He is instantly a grave. She isn’t even sure he’s breathing. She prods his chest for a heartbeat, and is shocked by how loud it is. It seems twice its normal size.

“Lumiere. My darling. Lumiere. Why this sudden intoxication? You were romantic before—everything I ever wanted—but now, now you drain yourself to talk to me. I fell in love with you, Lumiere. Not a man who never laughed because he would not dare to meet my eyes.”

“Your eyes are gemstones lifted from Arcadia’s fonts—” he begins, and she stabs him with a finger.

“Lumiere! Lumiere. I want you to laugh, again. I want you to make fun of Cogsworth, and encourage Cadenza, and plan matchmaking trips for the Prince and his Princess. I want you to piggy-back with Chip again. I want you to love me, and love life, and love everything besides. And kiss my neck, and tell a joke.”

“That seems impossible now,” he breathes. “Ever since I saw you, my world has been nothing but you.”

“You’ve seen me every day for at least fifteen years, ma moitié.” Another spasm of reverence from Lumiere. “Why now? Why so much?”

Lumiere tries to think, though only for the sake of the goddess currently balanced on his chest. His thoughts tend to flutter off in the so soft, so light, so sacred, exquisite fairy, sublime pixie sent from the other end of heaven direction, but he tries to be mundane.

“Toast.” How strange he used to find food appealing! He hasn’t eaten for two days. It seemed so base, compared to Plumette.

“Pardonez-moi, mon coeur?” Oh sacred woman! All he is is a beating heart. He tries to bring his thoughts around to anything else that might please her.

“Toast. I had some toast. With jam brought by….the woman.” He doesn’t hold onto other people, now. He can’t really remember their names.

“Puce?”

“Say ‘Plumette’ instead. It is the only name that matters.”

“That woman brought you jam? And then you saw me, and fell in love?”

“You only speak truth. It is exquisite.”

She kisses him, then, half to shut him up and half because he is beloved, even as an idiot. He truly does faint, then. A speck of sand in the sway of an ocean.

Plumette goes to find Puce Enervant.

The palace maid doesn’t really know her way around the village, but she finds it easy enough; the neighbors sigh and point to Puce’s house, tumbled down at the edge of the village. An angry house for an angry woman.

“What do you want,” spits Puce Enervant.

Plumette looks around the crumbling parlor. It is cold and empty and angry. “Don’t you have a child?”

“Not anymore.” Puce kicks up her feet and takes out her pipe. “Witch got her. Didn’t want her, anyway. Strange child. Mostly mute. Didn’t play like a kid.”

“And do you play?”

“I used to.” Puce’s face is wistful. “Everyone used to want me. I had thirty boys on a string. But the war came, and I can’t have anyone now.”

Plumette looks around the room. It’s true that the war came—but in Puce’s case, it seems that life went. She doesn’t have any signs of a life of her own: no pastimes, no plants, no crafts, no indication that she does anything besides sit and moan her dead flirtations. Plumette is struck with pity: besides stringing along the village boys, Puce had nothing better to do, and never learned real love.

Plumette’s hand brushes before her face. “I need a favor of you.”

“You have everything I want. A lover, respect, attention.” I have a heart you do not know you need, thinks Plumette. “If I favor you, I get nothing at all.”

“I need you to kiss Lumiere.”

Puce drops her pipe. “Is this a joke?”

“Non, mademoiselle. True love’s kiss.”

The atmosphere in the cold, dead room is very charged. “And he’ll be mine again?”

“You’ll have back whatever you gave him,” Plumette says honestly.

“Love,” says Puce, and her eyebrows draw together. She thinks for only moments. “Yes, love, yes. Let me have Lumiere. Bring me to my boy.”

Your boy, thinks Plumette, fuming, but she leads Puce to the palace. The only way to save Lumiere is to hand him to another.

He doesn’t want to, but he’ll do anything for the diamond of the angels. The flower that Eden kept. The end of the world, because the world would end without her.

“Will he talk like that to me?” Puce’s eyes are hungry. Lumiere’s eyes are fixed on Plumette as he reels off his names for her.

“He has more than enough to share.” Plumette is nervous; her hands brush his. She needs Puce to kiss Lumiere—but what if it goes wrong, what if he really falls in love with her?

He will die if he does not laugh, does not eat, does not mock Cogsworth as he always does. Plumette tries to be brave. “My darling, my one darling. Kiss her, once, for me.”

He does. He doesn’t try. But Plumette asked him to, so he does.

Stars burst across his vision. Marjoram weighs heavy in the air. And hearts-ease, too, and hot-wine burgundy. Puce’s lips are hungry against his.

He reels back, crying from how strong it was, and blinks away his tears. He hasn’t cried for three days, and his lips feel very dry, and he is suddenly immensely hungry.

Before him stand Puce and Plumette. Puce’s eyes are shut. Her lips move soundlessly. She is a village woman, one he kissed once, a long, long time ago.

Beside her stands Plumette. And she is so beautiful—and so heavenly—and a part of the rest of his world, like Cogsworth and Cadenza and food and dining and serving the Prince—that he has to burst out laughing.

Plumette bursts into tears. “Mon amour? You’re you again?”

“What, because I can’t hold a candle to you?” He is smoking a little, too. “Ma chérie, I can love both you and a brilliant joke.”

He is all right again. He is Lumiere again. He takes Plumette in his arms and kisses her.

“What of Puce?” In the corner she sways, her eyes locked tight. All her anger has vanished from her face; she looks like she is dreaming.

Plumette sniffs her breath, and guides her to the door. “I thought she could draw the poison out of you, because she needs the love herself. I hope she finds a mirror. And some happiness of her own.”

“You are infinitely wise, my darling.” He tries to pick her up, and fails. He is not strong enough. He kisses her instead.

“You are infinitely endearing. Do you want marshmallows in your chocolate?”

“You are the jewel of the world,” says Lumiere, and bows with extravagant courtesy.

Down in the hollow, Agathe shows around her new owl. Little Crevette, with big brown eyes, and tawny feathers. It screams from joy and flaps its wings.

Puce wanders by, her eyes fast shut. Agathe takes her by the hand and leads her to the fallen tree. Places hot tea in her cold hands. Whispers a spell over her, and lets dead leaves fall.

At least she cured the candle’s cold. That’s all she ever meant to do.