#he's a freak he will do anything within reason he will WORSHIP YOU. if he loves you that is. like back then it was just

[ruvviks]

not to talk about my own oc's sex life but you KNOW vitali would fuck like a god

[sacklerscumrag]

Metalhead Next Door

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Notes: hello :) i got the sudden urge to write for eddie munson today for some reason lol

i'm apologizing in advance for how bad it probably is. please keep in mind that i havent written anything in a long time, let alone for eddie

but if you do read it for whatever reason, thank you i love you im giving you a big kiss rn <3

Warnings: neighbors to lovers, jealous!reader, pining, oral sex (f receiving)

Word Count: 1.4K

A loud rumble from a run-down truck rang outside your trailer window, jolting you from sleep. The book you abandoned some hours ago slid off your chest as you sat on the bed to peek outside. Snow continued to fall and hardened on the window sill from earlier that morning, each flake a silent whisper against the palm of your hand as you held it out in the icy air. Metal music blared through the familiar window across from yours, drawing your attention toward the warm glow coming from inside. An overpowering scent of weed lingered between the two trailers—something you'd found comfort in within the last couple of months of living next door to the Munsons. Of course, you'd heard the rumors where Eddie was concerned, and you'd have to be blind not to see how people treated him around here. Everyone ignored him, wrote him off as a freak while telling the tale of the long-haired devil-worshiping drug dealer to anyone who would listen. But after almost a year of living next to Eddie, you realized that couldn't be further from the truth.

The first night, Eddie crept up on your front porch when you weren't looking, making himself comfortable on the wooden staircase, offering whatever joint he was nursing—all leather jacket and wild hair with a grin that could warm you to your core if you let yourself admire him for a little too long. Since then, you'd meet Eddie outside once everyone had gone to bed and let his wild D&D stories carry you through the night. The world around you seemed to soften around Eddie, swallowed up by the relentless comfort of his presence. Even when he was gone, one last tiny blaze of warmth and light continuously flickered in your chest for him.

The night air was crisp, making you cling to your blanket that much tighter as you curled up in bed. You nearly jumped when you heard a thump against your bedroom window, a snowball crumbling as another landed against the window pane.

"You're not gonna make me wait out here until I freeze, are you?" Eddie's voice trickled in from outside, making you smile before quickly opening the window and letting him climb in. "It's fucking freezing out there. Hey, sweetheart." Your heart warmed at the nickname as he brushed past you, flopped down on your mattress, and picked up your abandoned book. His hair looked like he'd run his hand through it far too many times today; the snow still crunched as he crossed one boot over another as scattered icicles clung to his jacket's leather and denim patches.

"Well, it's no D&D book, but-." Eddie teased before you cut him off by snatching the book, placing it on your bedside table, and settling beside him. He smirked, clearly pleased with himself for getting to you so quickly.

"So what's new with you, Munson?" You said as you sank next to him, sneaking glances whenever he wasn't looking.

"Same shit, different day. I learned a new Metallica song last week, gonna play it at our gig."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I'll play it for you sometime." You smiled at that. "Oh shit, I was supposed to call Dustin." Eddie dramatically sat up on your bed and sighed.

"Dustin? Was it important?"

"Yeah, sort of; he's been trying to set me up with this girl. Or was it Steve setting me up? All I know is I went out with her last week, and now I gotta be at Family Video tomorrow at 6 to pick out a movie for whatever the fuck a double date movie night is." Your heart sank. Eddie was being set up; he was dating someone. And it wasn't you. Figures. He would never see you as more than a friend; all you ever did was hang out and talk about D&D; he could do that with any of his other friends. This shouldn't surprise you, but that didn't make it sting any less than it did.

"Hey, you okay?" Eddie noticed your silence amidst his rambling. You were seemingly lost in your thoughts as you toyed with your fingers. Something had shifted; your warm presence from just a minute ago felt frigid and distant.

"Yeah." You wiped the tears welling in your eyes and stood from the bed, suddenly needing to put as much distance between you as possible. "Just tired, I'm just gonna go to bed." The mere thought of Eddie snuggling up on a couch with some girl made your chest feel like it would cave in any second. You quickly turned toward your window to open it, unable to face him without fear of bursting into tears.

"Sweetheart, if I did something to piss you off, I'm sorry."

"You didn't just please…I want to go to bed." Your tone was firmer than Eddie had ever heard from you. He should go, head out through the window, and call it a night. But he couldn't. "Please." Your voice slightly cracked, and with it, a piece of Eddie's heart at the realization. When you managed to turn around, his chest was inches from your face, tenderness filling those big, brown, beautiful eyes darting back at you. His ring-clad hand cupped your cheek, skimming over your skin delicately like you would break under his touch.

Before you knew it, your mouth was on his. Your arms around his neck; he tasted like cigarettes and mint from the gum he anxiously chewed before you came in. It was intoxicating. Chills spread across your skin when his hands slid across your waist, pressing you closer to him. It didn't take long for Eddie's need for you to become apparent with feverish hands pushing you back until the desk bumped against your ass; Eddie tapped your thigh to signal you to sit on the hard surface, standing in between your legs and trailing his lips down to your neck and chest. Your hands tangled in his curls, breathing in as much of him as possible before he pulled away slightly.

"Eddie." You paused, studying his face for a moment; face flushed, hair tussled, and lips swollen and pink from your own; he was perfect. "I'm sorry. I should've told you how I felt, I-. Eddie's lips interrupted you with a searing but brief kiss as he spoke against your lips.

"Don't you dare apologize. I've been waiting so fucking long for this." A smile spread across your face, and relief flooded your chest. You tugged on his vest to draw him back to your lips as his hands began to knead your thighs, core clenching at the feeling. Whimpers escaped you from just his lips on your skin. His mouth worked its way along your neck, lifting your shirt and continuing to work his way down until he was kneeling before you.

"Can I?" You nodded as Eddie's ring-clad fingers hooked onto your shorts, pulling them off and discarding them on the floor along with your underwear. He hooked one leg over his shoulder and kissed the delicate skin of your inner thigh. "God, you have no idea how bad I've needed to taste you." Your breath hitched when you felt his tongue begin expertly working along your folds, then back toward your clit. It wasn't long before he slipped a finger inside you, then another. The chill of his rings pressing on your most sensitive spots as he plunged them in and out of you had you arching your back and squeezing your thighs tighter around Eddie. Your chest heaved; every whimper and moan that escaped was like music to his ears. Eddie consumed you like a man starved; it was like the more pleasure he drew from you, the more he wanted. He couldn't get enough. He teased your clit between his lips and began to suck hard. Eddie's movements were relentless. Your eyes screwed shut, and your core tightened until it snapped. Eddie's hand dug into the flesh of your hips to hold you in place as you squirmed against him until you were practically pushing him away. He could see the blissed look on your face as he stood and wrapped your legs around his waist, carrying you over to bed. Once you were settled, Eddie stepped toward the still-open window.

"Don't go," you whispered; a pang of fear hit you. Eddie smirked to himself before shutting the window securely, throwing his jacket on your nightstand, and crawling in beside you.

"Don't worry, sweetheart." He placed a kiss on your forehead. "I'm not going anywhere."

[wroteclassicaly]

No one really prepared you for it. They’d told you, sure, but you were always scared, always afraid you’d do something wrong to hurt him, that it would be painful for you, that he wouldn’t be attracted to you after it was over, that things would smell that shouldn’t. Should you do this, should you do that? A plethora of reasons came with why you had remained a virgin until you were in your 20’s.

And then you had sex with Eddie Munson…

He admires your stamina, your newly accumulated energy. How you went from this shy girl with tears in her eyes the first time he pressed into your cunt and nearly blew his load then and there, to the girl that insisted on having her mouth, hand, or pussy around his cock a majority of the time. You weren’t scared any longer, but hungry, fucking starved for it after you had a taste. Sex is amazing, and Eddie Munson is your dedicated god to worship.

That smart ass mouth, those talented fingers. If you weren’t touching yourself thinking about them, you were begging him, teasing him for them. It didn’t matter where you were, either. Eddie had through his magazines and interest within their centerfold contents made him the freak, but you were into anything. Even camping with your friends didn’t stop you.

As soon as the tent was up, the rain shrouded everyone’s activities for the better part of the evening, you were shoving Eddie into the wind-whipped material and closing it with a hasty ease, not even bothering with its unclosed flaps. You had shoved his shirt up, pulled on his chain, helped him assist in getting his pants below his ass, and your panties were pulled to the side as you rode him with focussed vigor.

“Love this, Eds. You always feel so good.”

You babble when you’re gone. Eddie is arching, trying not to be your little puppet, but with your warm and wet pussy bouncing on him, your cream pouring out around your opening and soaking his bush — he whines. “Jesus Christ, baby. You’re such a little sex fiend now.”

“Oh?” You roll your hips into a more agonizingly slow set of movements. It’s enough for Eddie to hear the summer storm, the culprit of this ruined camp day (fuck, this is a better end result), and the smell of the fragrant scent of those white flowers on the tall trees and their overhanging branches, seeping into the tent’s expanse.

You lean down and he eagerly accepts a kiss from your swollen mouth, cupping your cheek to take another. Your nose nudges his own as you finish your sentence. “Since I’m such a fiend, guess who isn’t getting to cum?”

You really fucking love sex now. Especially with Eddie Munson.

[thegaysinmyhead]

DC X DP IDEA(?)

Guys why is literally no one jumping on a VERY OBVIOUS trope for ghosts??

FUSION?? LIKE STEVEN UNIVERSE STYLE??

Just–hear me out hear me out!

Ghost forms are just extensions of their core, so it makes sense they can be changed right?? Gems physical bodies are just extensions and projections of their gem!!

SO, if going by a lot of phanon core logic, it would make sense if ghosts can have conversations to like fuse or something. Probably to use in battle mostly (ghosts are obviously territorial) but can also be used for love or to protect a weaker/damaged core! JUST IMAGINE THE POSSIBILITIES!!

Danny being able to fuse literally Steven universe style w his friends because he's a halfa, Danny being able to fuse with Jason because he has a connection because of the pits (Halfa or Revenant Jason Todd), Danny fusing with LITERAL BATMAN as he's the ghost king!!

CAN YOU IMAGINE HOW TERRIFYING THAT WOULD BE???

Jason in the middle of getting sacrificed: :|

Danny, the one being summoned and seeing a poor baby ghost/potential boyfriend material and snatching him to protect him: :)

Bruce:

Tim:

Dick:

Barbara:

Steph:

Cass:

Jason: ¯\(°_o)/¯

Danny: Mine now :)

*he says as their body erupts into flames and they become the most bad ass looking ghost that kicks the cultists asses; Before they started lounging around and reading Jane Austen* (floating laying down is apparently more comfortable than just laying down on something solid, so its nice to float and read)

ORRRR

Justice League facing off an impossibly strong enemy that they have no choice but to look into outside sources to help defeat him (Trigon, Darkseid, something else that probably show up like 4 times a week lmao). Eventually, JLD get wind of a new ghost king who's supposedly kind and benevolent, which is races better than his old counterpart.

With the entire League's permission, begrudgingly Batman's, they summon the Ghost King as a last option and are ready to sacrifice anything for his help (within reason). Imagine their surprise when Danny Fenton, aged somewhere between 16 to 21, pops up in the portal looking frazzled and like he was woken up from a nap. Not even in his ghost form, just blinking owlishly at the League members while gaping like a fish.

"Holy shit—the Justice League?! I'm being summoned by the Justice League?! Ohmygod Tucker is gonna freak"

Constantine butts in looking nervous as hell and sweating buckets, "Your Majesty—"

"Just Danny's fine, I can't believe I'm being summoned by THE Justice League!"

"...Danny. We could really use some of your help, mate. See, we got ourselves an issue we can't really fix ourselves–"

"I'll do it. I'm not even joking, you guys don't even have to ask me twice,"

Everyone in the League (besides Batman) was watching with bated breath at the exchange. The confusion as a random teenager showed up was quickly washed away with how formally he was addressed, but it spiked back up when 'Danny' seemed to...hero worship them?

"—But!"

Ah, there it was. Can never do trades in the occult for free.

"I would really do it for free if I could man, honest! Just...I need to make a teensy weensy deal to be let out of the circle? You guys don't even have to let me do it on my own if you're worried I'll go rogue! You can tie me into a deal about one of you 'using my power' in exchange for like, a cup of coffee or something,"

Now everyone (except Batman, though he seemed to have a clenched jaw) was opening gaping as the omnipotent described being. Being offered something to great...in exchange for a mug of bean water? There had to be a catch, some sort of trickery, but Diana and many others could sense no ill intent on the young king. Constantine had even let up on the nerves as the being continued to speak, relief seeming to crash through his entire body when he realized none of them would have to give up their soul or something. Batman was the first to speak up.

"And if you were...to offer your power to one of us, what would that entail for the mortal or semi-mortal user?"

The king hummed and tapped his chin in thought, "Well, they'd probably be fine. Most of my power would be filtered through myself, so whoever is wielding it wouldn't go mad or suddenly overwhelmed with it. It'd be like turning on the tap while the well is underground, or something close,"

Batman nodded before Danny continued to speak.

"—But, obviously, I reserve the right to take away my power at any point if I see it needed. I would not be mind controlled, nor would I be drained, I would be an observer in the back of whoever decides to be at the other end of the contract until it's fulfilled,"

Constantine stepped forward once again, cigarette all but ash between his lips now, "Contract, right, mate. So uh, one of our sorry blokes gets access to your unfathomable power for the time it takes to beat whatever the hell it is out there. And in exchange, you get a cuppa? Maybe some biscuits and other treats with it to sweeten the deal?"

Danny smiled brightly at the ruffled looking blond and nodded, "Sounds good to me!"

All at once, the room dropped in temperature as the summoning circle around Danny became encased in ice. The ice shimmered an otherworldly dark blue, almost black, and stretched until it reached the feet of the young king. A spark lighted ontop of Danny's head before exploding into a flame, a crown taking shape through the smoke of the fire to sit upon the teenagers head. There was a flash of blue as a ring materialized on the teen's finger, as well as a cape seeming to sew itself from nothing to sit upon his shoulders. Danny looked sheepish as much as he looked serious, his eyes now emanating a neon green with hints of red in his pupil.

"This is kind of the awkward part, whoever what's to use my power will have to form the contract. I don't really feel comfortable with a super or meta using it, with how powerful I am it might cause more damage than repair it, so preferably a human or mostly human host?"

Danny looked so incredibly shy all of a sudden as he rubbed the back of his neck in an incredibly human gesture. The word's were out of Batman's mouth before he even realized he was speaking then.

"I'll do it," The Bat walked forward to stand beside Cobstantine. Constantine pinched his eyebrows together before letting out a nervous chuckle. Danny just seemed to light up.

"Ohmygosh I'm going to be core merging with Batman," the young king seemed to be doing another small fan-boy freakout before coughing and collecting himself.

"Right, right. Contract to do now, tell my Fraid about this later," Danny lifted up a flaming hand towards the edge of the summoning circle, motioning gently to the Bat.

"Heads up, this is going to feel really weird. Just keep holding onto me after the contract sets, and then make sure to get everyone away as fast as possible. You will grow, it's not gonna be very nice if other people are around because you'll squish them,"

The other League members around nodded mutely, eyes staring at Batman as they prayed and wished for his safety. Batman just gruffed and slowly placed his own hand into the awaiting palm. It didn't burn as he thought it would. In fact, it felt quite cold. Like the feeling of putting your bare hand into a pike of snow just to know how it felt. Batman forced himself not to shiver as he felt the contract form through the handshake. The young king sent him a reassuring smile before he seemingly vanished.

No, not vanished. There was a bright light in Bruce's gloves hand that shook with power. The light—sphere, orb?—sunk into his palm, and this time Bruce did shiver. It felt like the biting winds of a blizzard as it crept up his arm to settle in between his ribs. There was a ringing in his ears blocking out the noise around him, but he could faintly make out images of the League rushing away from him and giving a very large berth.

There was a building in his chest, and he felt it pulse like a second heartbeat. Bruce pulled his hands to his sternum and clawed uselessly as the hevlar, the freezing cold threatening to consume him whole inside and out. His chest pulsed, and he fell to the ground in a heap. Bruce heard some of the members try to rush to him, but the JLD held them baback. There was a cracking like ice pulling away from itself, like glaciers splitting, and all of a sudden Bruce felt power rush through his veins.

It should have been overwhelming, it should have terrified him into immeditely creating contingencies, it should have drove him mad with power, but it didn't. Bruce didn't realize his form had grew until he opened his eyes (when did he close them) and blinked down at the members of the League. They were so...small compared to him now. Bruce felt more than he saw the flames dance from his collarbone, and they flickered up high around his thankfully still cowled face. Though, it seemed his face was the cowl right now.

Bruce turned to the being they were fighting (and losing to) moments ago, and smirked. He felt the spike of fear, and he suddenly knew that this thing didn't stand a chance.

.

.

.

GUYS I KNOW BRUCE WOULD NEVER AGREE TO POWERS LMAO LET ME DREAM THO I THINK HE WOULD LOOK COOL ASF AS A GHOST!!

[inkblackorchid]

Hi ,I love your writing and the way you write Yusei ,Aki and Faithshipping overall ! Would it be okay to ask for some Faithshipping headcanons ?

Also ,wanted to ask if there will be any new fic for Faithshipping in the future :)

Thank you so much! And absolutely, faithshipping hc requests are always welcome! <3

At some point after the DS arc (probably in order to take on repair jobs that pay decently), Yusei got himself a diploma to the equivalent of a high school graduation certificate. Aki helped him lots while he was studying for it, because there are a lot of subjects he never interacted much with when growing up in Satellite.

Aki and Yusei's relationship, once it becomes official, ends up suffering from something like the Tony Hawk effect—it's technically an open secret and many people outside the signer group (like Aki's classmates) know about it. Yet, more often than not, they still catch people off guard with the fact that they are, in fact, a couple. (This is absolutely based off @sojourner-between-worlds' hc that Yusei, post-canon, when he's a guy trying to lead a normal work life, also gets Tony-Hawk-ed a lot.)

Having never really spent much time dating before they met—Yusei because old Satellite wasn't exactly a dating hotspot and Aki because she was too scared to grow close to people and people too scared to grow close to her—Yusei and Aki both don't really know how the "dating" thing works. Sometimes, they'll manage to go on stereotypically romantic dates (and sometimes, Aki enjoys that more than anyone could get her to admit), but much of the time, they just do whatever comes to mind and call it a "date". They don't care what they're doing, they care that they do it together.

On occasion, when the opportunity presents itself, Yusei likes brushing Aki's hair. It's soft, he loves the colour, and she always looks very calm when he does it. It's something they indulge in behind closed doors.

Sometimes, when it's late and they have nothing better to do, they watch the duel channel together. Unbeknownst to their friends, their discussions about people's card plays can get downright philosophical, because at the end of the day, they're both passionate about duelling. (And really freaking good at it.)

Before Yusei, Aki didn't think she would ever be comfortable sharing anything than a double bed with someone else, because she needed her space. As it turns out, it works just fine with him.

Yusei generally isn't one for opening up about his fears or bad experiences in the past much, but when he's sleepy or when things weigh a bit too much on him, Aki's the only one he manages to open up to. They have a mutual understanding between them that whatever they share, it might be met with concern, with care, with sadness, but never with judgement.

Yusei is the first person to make Aki feel any semblance of actual pride about her powers. Divine tried, but ultimately still worshipped them for their destruction, which she hated. But Yusei regards the things she can do when she's not lashing out in anger with something like quiet awe, and it makes her melt, because that, more than anything else, is proof that he doesn't and could never see her as a monster.

Aki is the only one besides Yusei himself who's allowed to drive the Yusei-Go. Even Jack and Crow aren't, unless it's a dire emergency.

Aki never really warms up to the idea of modifying or repairing her runner herself, per se, but she likes watching Yusei do it—and manages to pick up on more mechanical stuff than she thinks along the way.

If somebody is rude to or insults Aki within Yusei's earshot for any reason, he absolutely stands his ground and defends her. If anyone is rude to or insults Yusei within Aki's earshot for any reason, that person had better run.

Also, to answer your final question, there will absolutely be more faithshipping from my side in the future! It features heavily several times in the WIP fic already—it's just that the WIP is sooo long and not even done yet, haha.

[ria-writes-stories]

Ship: Thuzi

Genre: Romance

Sub-genre: Obsession

Description: Love, love, love, love, love, love, love

-----

(No one's pov)

The life of a drone was a strange one, why? Well, there are some reasons to it as to why. First of all, you were a sentient being living in a world made out of the same materials as you but those components were not sentient. A toaster wasn't sentient, a vacuum cleaner wasn't sentient, and yet these drones were, and not only that but they were prone to feelings and further they were prone to having the same desires as a living being, to make another. Where did these feelings come from? An error? A short circuit? Whatever it was everyone was infected with it to some extent, some more than others, and some of those unfortunate souls knew how to hide it better than others, and those you had to fear the most, because it meant that they were more aware than others.

Thad was walking to his locker, empty, spotless, and clean, filled with what you would expect from a teenager his age. Nothing out of the ordinary, that is if you couldn't look into his head.

He couldn't risk exposing himself in any other way. He behaved and acted like any other person, he simply couldn't fall in love, and that was the facade. Perfectly pulled together like a master of acting. Nothing could give him away, not even his pulse.

What word could someone use in this situation? Obsession? No of course not! It was love silly! True love. The type of love that can't be bothered to care about other people, and that may be an issue.

What was there not to love? Her perfect smile, her attitude, her gentle yet strong presence. Picture after picture, glance after glance, he couldn't stop himself, and he didn't want to despite being fully aware of how bad it was to be deemed moral, but then again, what morality exists in this world? No one cares about another as long as they are fine, so why should he stress about any of it?

He was intoxicated, and he was addicted to her, to everything that resembled her or do anything that would remind him of her.

He was like a starved monster feasting for his hunger through small gestures and glances which were only phantoms of tastes, lingering in front of him like a cursed temptation not letting him take a bite but pursuing him deeper into this starved state without an end.

Bottomless, hollow and forever craving that is what his heart became, an endless pit unable to be filled and which will never be fulfilled until he got to be with her, and even then it won't be enough, he'll only want more and more and more until he'll lose every sense of what makes him a conscious being.

He couldn't let go, he knew he had to but he couldn't just drop these feelings. His demise and upbringing sourced their life force from the same cause and being. He will never be able to stop his greed regarding her existence, to be made one with her and he'd still need to see her as well to be able to properly worship her.

Together forever and never apart again, only then may his soul know the feeling of peace and contentment for each time his soul beats out of his chest, one more desire settles within his mind.

Feelings weren't Uzi's domain, she didn't understand them, and when feeling even remotely positive her body had to make it morbid one way or another because it didn't know how else to feel or act, at least that's how it usually was. Her hobbies, her passions, her dreams, but all were a fantasy coated with the gloomy darkness of the sky she had never gotten a glimpse of when in truth her entire being complex and detailed like the vast galaxies of these many worlds. But she couldn't see herself and no one else would except for one person who would make her heart skip a beat.

He was a popular jock and she was an outcast freak. It was easy to deem this entire thing as him being a 'conventionally attractive male' but truly how truthful was it? Was it just his appearance or was it also what her soul knew better than her mind?

A soul will forever be doomed to find another, for solitary is a tragic fate regardless.

Uzi had a bottomless hole in her soul. Always neglected, always pushed away, and forever cast into the shadows of which she made a home out of, to ease her pain. What has she done wrong? She was the beautiful miracle from the product of love between two other beings who chose to love something outside of themselves, or so it should have been for she had never once felt this love and was clueless about what it felt like, yet she craved it as if she was dependent from the moment she was born. How dare fate deprive her of this love she so deserves? How dare it never allow her to hold it in her arms when she is a being made out of it? How dare she be denied the right of her existence in this world?

But even so our subconsciousness will forever know better than we do. It will guide us to where we need to be and to what we need to achieve. It will move us against the current of the world, using it to its advantage to bring us to our fate. They call it a miracle, they call it a wonder, fate or chance, a prophecy foretold from long ago a curse or a blessing but it is simply how the world moves regardless of what we can see or can't.

Her heart brought her to him, and she couldn't imagine herself thinking about anybody else. He was just so...perfect. He was confident, strong, and kind. He was all the things she failed to be in this world of misery. Where she fell and caved into the deeper darkness he rose into the light as if he had been forged by a higher being to forever grow until it would surprise its very creator. He was who he was thanks to himself and nobody else and others admired him for it while they hated her. Why? What was the difference? The only answer Uzi had was that perhaps he was doing what was meant to be done, how it should be, and how it is correct. Of course that was a lie, for there is no definitive answer to being a person of your own, but that was all this drone could process against this terrifying endless dark sea of the unknown.

She was long ago drowned in it, taken by a wave and carried deep underneath the surface, unable to tell how far away she is from the bottom or how close she is to breaking the surface of the water. She was lost at a point of the abyss and yet clueless about where she was she had one pillar that she could seek out to help her not stray too much from what she held in her head as morals, him.

She couldn't help herself, a hopeless worthless feeling in her heart tormenting her into the bittersweetness of this life. What was the reason for this punishment? For this never-ending torture that she was put through without a warning, brought upon her, he was given a pendant of life around her neck, a glimmer of light in her dark vision, reminding her to stay where she was in the hopes of making that glimmer brighter. He was her demise, her poison, her illness, and her sickness, and she would be a liar if she said that she wanted it to end.

She couldn't let go. Another unhealthy angsty teen behavior that she picked up through time. She held onto whatever caused her pain the most. The never-ending wishes of having her father's approval and love, and the absurd desire of having him all for herself.

She had a wall filled with conspiracy theories and angsty ideas, and her heart was filled with pictures of him, of his smile, of his joy, of his sadness and anger, only caught within glimpses of eyes for he never dared frown negativity upon the world around him, and she felt the pain that he felt. She felt his anger and his sorrow, and she felt for him, but she was just a lowly outcast compared to him. Yet can you blame her for not letting go of him? She didn't have him, she was nowhere near having him, and yet she felt like he belonged to her like she was the only one meant to have him. No one else felt as blessed as she did when being near him. The cheerleaders would giggle, and the girls would sigh dreamily, but none would see the true colors hidden within his eyes.

None could understand him. Not like she did.

Someone to be worshiped, someone to be cherished. Both were stuck in their delusion.

He thought she was the better being, balanced out between darkness and light, while in truth being on this verge of balance is quite the opposite of being a balanced person.

She thought he was pure in a world of damaged filthy and corrupted minds, but purity vanishes the moment it is laid within such an environment.

How dare he make his way into her heart? "I love you." He said breathlessly, without hesitation or remorse. "Don't lie." She dismissed him as she looked away with a bitter look on her face, crossing her arms. "I love you." He said again, more warmly as he took a step closer to her, while she avoided his gaze. "Don't be ridiculous." For nothing were her protests for he has made up his mind. "I love you." He spoke into a whisper as if the wind could take away his words, as he placed his arms around her in a gentle loving manner, firm and demanding yet soft and light, letting her know that she had a choice regardless of his feelings and that there shall be no guilt if she were not ro return them.

A deep defeating silence followed. She didn't know what to say, he had said all there was to say.

She was unsure. She was scared and afraid. She chased love all of her life and now that it was being given to her she was afraid she wouldn't be able to appreciate it as it should be, without knowing that she deserved every ounce and inch of this wonderful gift.

He was content now because he got to hold her in his arms, even for a moment, he was at peace, for it felt like the thing he had been missing his entire life, but the moment this moment was to disappear he would chase far and beyond to get something even remotely close to it or something even better than it without a second thought to it.

It felt too good to be true. This feeling that she was given so easily out of thin air before she knew what was happening, for it was something beyond her comprehension. It felt so right to be in his arms, it felt so good...

"How much?" She spoke in a soft quiet tone as she allowed herself to lean into his touch, resting her chin on his shoulder. She was tired of this chase, even if this was a joke, even if it was a cruel heartless prank, she was willing to risk it all. Her pride, her ego, her confidence, her heart, for one moment of this fulfilling sensation.

He held her closely as a wide smile spread upon his face, he was more than satisfied, he was over thrilled. He had her right where he wanted her to be, and it couldn't get any better than this.

"More than anything else I hold dear in this world." Thad said in a soft tone as he gently rested his hand on her head he could already sense her reaction.

She looked into the distance with a hollow empty gaze as all the thoughts left her mind and she couldn't muster up anything. Her vision began to blur as tears built up and rolled down her cheeks soaking into his shirt. Her body went limp as he held her dearly to his chest, caressing her hair softly while placing a loving kiss on her forehead.

"Shhhh." He hushed her softly as she clenched her hands on his back and sobbed softly as an inexplicable smile rested upon her face. It felt almost psychotic.

He softly cleaned her tears while looking at her with an adoring and affectionate look, cupping one of her cheeks as his other hand wrapped around her waist holding her close.

She rested her hand upon his as her other hand warped around his neck she smiled with teary eyes before receiving a sweet affectionate kiss on her other cheek.

Two souls deemed cursed and sick found themselves within the grasp of one another and while it was no reassurance that no one around them would have to suffer for this love, at least it was guaranteed that the beasts were more game and docile in the presence of each other, limiting the harm that could be done to others.

The end

[eloisegrant]

Mission: Find Spector (4)

What’s the real mission, anyway?

Marc Spector x Avenger!Reader, Steven Grant x Avenger!Reader, Bucky Barnes x Avengers!Reader (platonic), Sam Wilson x Avengers!Reader (platonic)

A/N: I am terribly sorry for the delay, been a bit occupied these past few days and didn’t want to rush this storyline. But here you guys are 💗

SUMMARY: Flying to Egypt for the mission. But wait what, or rather who, is the mission?

WARNINGS: A few mentions of past abuse, ptsd?, not proofread

WORD COUNT: 2.1 k

Promises were meant to be kept or broken. Of course, you kept your promise to Marc and Steven, because they obliged with your side of the deal.

So before heading out to Marc’s mission, you guys stayed at the HQ for two weeks, opting to get an idea and a brief on what you’re going to be dealing with in Cairo.

Marc explained that he has to stop a certain group from awakening a terrible Egyptian goddess.

Based on his descriptions, it sounds like a cult that worshipped a Snake goddess. Either way, it seemed to be a medium difficulty task, not too life threatening and seemed to be reasonable enough.

You and Marc got closer, throughout this stay. Both of you spent the nights lost in each other’s stories.

He was continuously sharing more about himself, even though you witnessed it in his head, previously. It was still different to hear him explain it, see him feel pain, experiencing it again. You’d tell him it's fine, he didn’t need to share anything. But, for Marc it was therapeutic.

It was such a breeze to talk to you. The fact that you were so willing to listen and comfort him. It’s just tha, he never had someone openly looking at him and appreciating every word that fell from his lips. You didn’t even have to do it, but you did anyway.

Also, it wasn’t a chore for you. It was honestly the most fun you’ve had in a while. Marc and Steven were an absolute gem; a blessing.

So, for the past few nights after training in the living room. You’d be a couple of drinks in, sharing stories, getting to know each other.

He would ask you about your past, so you told him.

-

“They just didn’t… you know, like me.” A big gulp of the drink followed your statement.

“Just because of your powers?” Marc’s eyes were softly looking up at you, as he was sprawled on the living room carpet.

“Well… because I was a freak.” You look back at him, you can't understand why he made you feel at ease. Like everything was clear and didn’t need to get hidden. Talking to him was easy.

He slightly cups your face, reassuring you that you were far from what you grew up believing. “Welcome to the freakery, I guess.” He comforted you with his touch.

Damn, why were those deep brown eyes looking at you, so sincere, sweet and loving. Was he trying to make you fall for him? Because, it was definitely working.

-

How could the mission turn into someone you wanted to remain as a part of you?

You get disturbed and brought back to the present when Bucky pats you on the shoulder as you grab a few snacks before the flight to Cairo. “You good, doll?”

You place the final protein bar into your backpack before turning around and nodding to your good old friend. “Yep. Where’s Marc?”

You and him begin walking out to the long hallway heading to the hangar. Being the father figure he is, he couldn’t help but say a few protective words. “Fueling the jet with Sam. Listen, you need help during the mission, don’t be afraid to-“

“Gee, James, I’ll be fine. Please, when have I ever needed help from the chip and dale?” You referred to Bucky and Sam as the two famous chipmunk characters, making him chuckle.

Yeah, you did know how to handle yourself. However, Bucky just wasn’t comfortable with anything bad happening to you. Call it a complex or some sort of nurturer within him, but you meant a lot to him.

“Just don’t do something stupid.” He looks down to you, wanting to gain some form of reassurance.

With a quick nod and glance, he was thankful for your response. At least, he has you to count on.

Eventually, the two of you reach the hangar and see the two men who were patiently waiting. “Done doing your hair?” Sam teases, you playfully punch his shoulder.

“Yes. How about you?” You toyed with the fact that Sam had barely any hair, making him raise an eyebrow and laugh at you.

You smile at Marc, who was happily looking at you, arms crossed.

“Alright, get the jet back with no scratches.” Sam notes as you open the side of the quinjet.

You guys were no longer taking your pretty jet because this was a mission that required, well— less luxury and more brawn.

“Roger that, captain.” You salute Sam as you and Marc get in through the back of the quinjet. Readying for lift off.

Bucky screams out one last time, “Marc! Or- Steven! Take care of her! Alright?”

“Will do, Sergeant Barnes!” Marc turns around and gives a salute to Bucky as the quinjet back door lifts to a close.

Marc sits in the co-pilot chair, he couldn’t help but stare at you as you were preparing the gears of the jet for take off. He stops midway from clicking his seatbelt because he could not get over your effortlessness.

To say he wasn’t developing a crush on you would be a lie. But, it would be foolish. Bucky and you could be a thing…

But gah! Why did you have to look so damn pretty while moving the jet onto the runway? Why did you have to look so damn pretty, doing… well anything?

“Marc, your seatbelt.” A quick glance to your right makes you remind him. He couldn’t help but feel flustered and immediately snapped his seat restraints into place.

The flight to Cairo was filled with short conversations. Though, not as deep as the past few nights, it was comforting.

-

After landing in Egypt, you and Marc travelled to the actual city of Cairo with a car rather than the quinjet because that would cause a lot of heads to turn.

So as nightfall slowly came, you and Marc finally reach the hotel. You both had to act casual, strolling through the lobby.

Marc decides to get you two rooms, so he reaches the front desk with you beside him . “Hi uh, we’d like two rooms, please.”

The man behind the desk types a bit on the system, “Ooh, I’m afraid we only have one room available.” He looks up two the two of you. “But that shouldn’t be a problem for a couple, right?” The cheekiness in his voice was apparent. None of you guys could even get mad because the way you two looked together was sort of suspicious.

With a quick look at each other, it was clear. Y’all looked like the typical mom and pop on vacation.

“Right, thank you.” Marc says, getting the key immediately from the man. You followed him to the elevator and impatiently tapped your foot.

As soon as the two of you reached the hotel room, it was a pretty and relatively spacious room. A king sized bed sat across the small TV while the bathroom and closet were the first thing you see.

“Excuse me.” You plop your bags down, taking out some clothes to change into while rushing to the bathroom. The flight has made your bladder quite weak. So there you go, needy to pee your whole soul out.

Marc just laughs at your reaction and fixes both of your bags properly onto the tabletop and into the closet space.

“Sorry Marc!” You shout while on the toilet through the door.

“Don’t worry!” He shouts back, heading towards the balcony where a pretty view of Cairo and the pyramids were presented.

Such a pretty sight, under terrible circumstances. He’s actually quite happy you agreed to be here with him, like you were some comfort he’ll have through this damn mission.

Upon hearing the clicking of the bathroom door open, he turns around to see you and flashes a bright smile. “Well at least the bed is nice.”

You were now in your pajamas, a nice cream silk set. Your hair was relaxed on your shoulders. Marc really felt like you were his girlfriend right then and there with the amount of comfort you showed around him.

But hey, you’re just like that, he supposes.

“Yep, we don’t have to squeeze on it.” He adds on, making your cheeks blush a bit at the thought.

“Ain’t nothing wrong with squeezing.” A bit flirtatious on your part but hey, you were tired. Right? It can’t be just your emotions seeping through.

I mean after bonding with Marc and Steven, it's been an interesting experience. Forming proper support for him as he does the same for you. Well, that and his absolutely gorgeous face.

He was taken aback by your words, he wasn’t sure if you were making a move or… just being you. He’s witnessed the way you looked at Bucky, the way you talked to him. It looked like you and him had more of a romantic relationship rather than a friendly one.

“Well, y-yeah.” Was all he said. Awkward and confusing. Classic. Nice move, Marc.

It was honestly cute, the way he got tongue tied like that. Like a little schoolboy. A giggle escapes your lips before you plopped down on the bed with your arms spread across. Happy to feel a soft, fluffy mattress beneath you.

Marc couldn’t help but watch you, enamored. If heart eyes could physically come out of his eye sockets, they would.

That’s the best you got?

Steven speaks within their thoughts, making Marc stiffen up. Steven has been watching it all unfold and it was actually quite disastrous. But, he can’t blame Marc. It was hard not to fall for you.

I know you like her mate, I do too.

“Shush, not now.” He whispers, praying to god you didn’t hear. Thankfully, your eyes were shut, peaceful and calm. Actually, it looked like you were falling asleep.

Gosh she’s such a sweet creature.

There was no helping Steven’s voice, so he rushfully goes into the bathroom in order to have a proper conversation; without the risk of waking you up.

“Sergeant Barnes and her could be a thing, Steven.” Marc wipes his face off, staring into Steven’s reflection in the mirror.

You don’t know that. He responds, crossing his arms.

“Neither do you.” Marc shakes his head, resting the palms of his hand by the sink.

It took the boys awhile to understand that something is going on between you and Bucky. I mean, you’re always together in the morning. Making smoothies and breakfast.

He even caught you playfully throwing pancake batter at one another, like teenagers in love.

But she’s nice to us. Sweet to us. Makes us feel like we matter.

“Steven, it doesn’t mean she likes us.”

It could.

“She was with him before the flight here.”

They could’ve been JUST talking.

Marc raises an eyebrow to his reflection, making it clear that the thought of ‘talking’ is not what he meant. “Steven- just- let’s focus on the mission.” Turning around, he exits the bathroom.

When he walks back to the room, he spots you again. Except, you were already properly asleep on the bed— just like a little burrito between the sheets.

What exactly is the mission mate?

Steven was in awe, and so was Marc. It was the way your soft eyes and content lips were such a damn distraction. Why’d the hotel only have one suite? This is going to be hard.

“Khonshu is the mission.” Marc moves to the opposite side of the bed, slowly distributing his weight carefully so he doesn’t wake you up.

But, what’s OUR mission?

Marc rests his head on the pillow, staring up at the ceiling. Memories of your sweet motivating words filled his mind.

-

“I love your aura, it's admirable.” Your words were slurred from the liquor as you chomped on the marshmallow while Marc laughed at your comment.

“Well, it is earned.” He drinks his glass of wine, gently sloshing it around.

“Either way, you’re amazing.” You fell on the back of the couch, placing your whole weight.

He pauses at your words, looking at you with shocked yet soft eyes. “Even the broken parts?” The way his voice changed tone made your heart break, you lifted your head and immediately cupped his face.

Your fingers slowly massaged his cheeks, “Especially the broken parts.”

-

He snaps back to reality. Slightly turning his head to face you, who was adorably snoring the softest snore he’s ever heard. Seeing a bit of the blanket uneven, he reaches over to fix it. Gently, he pulls it back up, properly over you.

An uncontrollable small smile comes out from his lips, “We’re just gonna have to find out what the mission truly is for us.” With that, Marc leans back into his side of the bed, ready to fall asleep before your big day tomorrow.

-

Taglist:

@elliaze

@moony-artemis

@galacticstxrdus

@local-mr-frog

@kingtwhiddleston

@nerdory10

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[buckyownsmylife]

Make it back to me - Andy Barber smut

The one where Andy fulfills his promise and gives you a future together.

Warnings: smut, daddy kink, insecure!Andy for a minute there, divorce, talks of infidelity because reader was the other woman, breeding kink

A/N: this is technically a follow-up to this drabble I wrote during kinktober!

Andy’s P.O.V.

My heart was pounding against my chest even before her beautiful face appeared from the office’s door. It was clear that she was confused, but I was too excited about it to even be able to verbalize what had happened and what we were about to do. So the plan was to just show her.

“You know, I usually like surprises, but this one is freaking me out,” she commented, and I laughed, throwing a glance at the rearview mirror before taking us out of the firm’s parking lot. I rubbed my thumbs on her knees, squeezing it in a hopefully reassuring gesture while I hummed a random song that had been stuck in my head since earlier.

I still couldn’t believe it. 

I thought that maybe she would have connected the dots when I parked in an apartment complex’s garage, but by the inquisitive look she threw me, it was clear that wasn’t the case at all. So I laughed when I held her hand, kissing the back of it before pulling her along with me, up the stairs to the front hall.

“Andy, are you crazy? We can’t be holding hands in public like this. What if someone from the firm lives here and sees us together?” She whisper-shouted, and an euphoric feeling took over my chest at the realization of just how incredible my life was.

“Someone from the firm does live here,” I conceded, hugging her from behind and leaning down to fit my chin on her shoulder. “Me.” Saying it out loud only made it feel even more real, especially since she whipped her head to try to get a look at me, in an effort to understand just what I meant.

“What?” I only laughed, reaching out for her hand again and giving it a squeeze when the elevator doors opened, immediately stepping out to look for the door I held the key to. “Andy, what do you mean?”

I only smiled, patiently opening the door before letting her walk in and following behind. “Sweetheart… Meet my new apartment.” Once more, her head whipped around to stare at me, interrupting her visual exploration of the new environment.

“Andy…”

“I’m divorced,” I interrupted, effectively shutting her up. “It was finalized this morning. I talked to Laurel the day after that party. The day you got your promotion. I didn’t tell you before because I wanted it to be a sure thing,” I immediately explained when I saw her open her mouth to interject, but then she closed it, nodding as she accepted my justification.

“So while I waited for it to be processed, I bought this place. Do you like it? I was hoping you’d move in with me, I can’t wait to christen every room of this apartment.” Once again, she seemed surprised by my words, stopping her evaluation of the living room to stare at me with eyes twice their usual size.

“But you just… Andy, you just got divorced. Quite literally. You can’t tell me you want to immediately jump into the routine of a relationship again.” Frowning, I stepped forward, in her direction, arms reaching out to hold her hips so I could keep her in place while I tried to understand her emotions. 

“You don’t want to be in a relationship with me?” My heart ached at the prospect, but she only huffed, rolling her eyes at me. Immediately, I felt somewhat comforted, although still confused about what was going on through her head.

“Of course I want to be in a relationship with you, you dummy. I just… I fear you’re jumpin too soon into this, and that you’ll grow to resent me. I don’t want to lose you.” Hearing her voice my own fears only made the need to have her closer rise within me, so before I could even realize what I was doing, I had her face cradled between my hands and our lips were connected again, as they always should be.

“And I don’t want to lose you,” I decided to voice it, so she could understand exactly where all of this was coming from, how it wasn’t simply a spur-of-the-moment gesture, any of it. “So what do you think I should do? Keep our relationship without strings, fearing that any moment now someone else will come and sweep you off of your feet? I don’t want to fuck anyone else, sweetheart. And I’ve been dreaming about living all of this domestic shit with you for a while, now. My marriage with Laurel didn’t end because I suddenly despised my ring, it ended because I didn’t love her anymore. But I love you. And I want this with you. Only you.”

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Now, what else could I possibly say? This was everything I had dreamed about, everything I’d been wishing for since day one, since my eyes connected with Andy’s and we shook hands in the office. And here he was, offering me a future together on a silver platter and I couldn’t find it in myself to fight against it anymore, even if the rational part of me thought this was a mistake. 

Or maybe it was only my anxiety speaking, trying to get me to chicken out, to run away, convince me that this isn’t real and I’m not worthy of all of this love. Because the truth was, I was scared. Scratch that, I was downright *terrified. Because somewhere between the stolen kisses and the longing glances, I’d fallen head over heels for the man standing in front of me, who just poured his heart out in search of mine, and I never wanted to lose him.

“Okay,” was all I managed to say, instead, all I could get out. “Okay, let’s do this.” But still, maybe because Andy really was my long-lost soulmate, he seemed to understand. He managed to read between the lines, hear my devotion and my love in those simple words. I knew it because his eyes lit up, and just like that, I was being embraced by those delicious arms again, held like I was the most precious thing he had ever encountered and the only thing he needed to be happy.

He was everything to me.

“I love you, sweetheart.” Everything felt different, every pet name, every touch. It was sweeter, purer. There was no overwhelming pressure of rushing through this, trying to escape the sin, the guilt. This man was mine, now. I could finally relish every single second of this experience.

“I’ve wanted you since we’ve met,” I finally managed to admit it, making sure to look him in the eye so he could see just how serious I was about this. “I’m just so happy we finally get to be together, like… like a real couple.”

His soft smile was the reason for my heart faltering at times, and when he paired it with light brushes over my cheekbone with his thumbs, it was powerful enough to make me weak in the knees. Still, because it was Andy, after all, he couldn’t help but to tease me - I knew I should expect it from the mischief in his eyes.

“So, everything we did before, it doesn’t count?” I huffed at the same time he started laughing, barely seeing me rolling my eyes at his childish behavior since he had tears in his. And despite how much I wanted to be annoyed at him for ruining such a beautiful moment, I could only feel warm inside from seeing him this happy, and being here to share this new beginning of his.

“You know what? No, it doesn’t, daddy. You’re gonna have to get me reacquainted with your cock all over again. Are you up for the challenge?” He laughed out loud at this, beautiful face suddenly looking boyish as his eyes closed for a moment. so that he could fully enjoy his happiness.

Andy’s P.O.V.

“When you look this fuckable? It won’t be a challenge at all, darling.” I watched with perverse pleasure as she shivered from my words, eyes suddenly darkening with lust as she bit her lower lip. “Now c’mon. Let’s start christening this place.”

My first step was the bedroom, of course. I had bought a new bed with the sole intention of ravishing her on it. Sleep was secondary. “Take off your clothes,” I commanded as soon as we were inside the new room, quickly taking off my shirt before sitting on the mattress. “Slowly,” I added when I saw her initially run to obey, but then a small smile painted her beautiful lips as her movements became more fluid.

“Someone wants a show,” she teased, revealing her perfect body little by little, each new inch making the anticipation rise in me. Damn right I wanted a show. But any amount of time I got to spend with her was a spectacle of itself. She was the muse I once believed I would never find. “Like what you see?”

“Fuck yes. Come here.” She approached me slowly too, soft hands I knew too well running over her own body and making me desperate to be the one that was touching her. “I want to worship your body the way that you deserve it, after waiting for me for so long.”

I saw her eyes soften at that, her hands cradling my face when she was close enough to hop on my lap. “I’d wait even longer if I had to.” It made me happier than anything else, knowing that she was as happy with me as I was with her. 

So I pulled her to meet my lips again, groaning as I got my taste of her - but it was enough. It would never be enough, especially now that I knew I was hers and hers only. And then she inadvertently started grinding against me and it almost had me falling back against the bed. “God, you’re hot,” I moaned as I watched from under my eyelashes the way that she moved for me and only me.

“I love when you talk dirty.” Her giggles were the sweetest sound I ever heard, and I loved to be the cause for them. But my need for her was so pressing, that I ended up cutting them short by pulling her for another kiss, while adjusting her until she was sitting on one of my thighs.

“That’s nothing, darling. You know just how dirty I can be, and you still haven’t seen everything I got up my sleeve. Come on, move those hips for me,” I directed, helping her ride my thigh by the grip I held on her ass. 

“You know what I want to do to you?” I asked, my voice dropping a tone as I whispered in her ear, needing to see her cum for me for the first night that night. “I want to lick all over your skin without the fear of being interrupted,” I started, reminiscing about just how many things I wanted to experience with her now that we were officially together. “Do you know how great it will be now that what we’re doing isn’t improper?”

Y/N almost laughed, but it came out as a gasp as I flexed the muscles underneath her, making my thigh a bit harder for her to rub her sweet cunt against. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, we’ll definitely keep doing some pretty improper stuff…” I forced her to quicken her movements until she was cumming before my eyes, sweet, sweet whimpers falling from her lips as she struggled to catch her breath. “... I just won’t have to feel guilty about them anymore.”

As I turned us over to lay her body on the mattress, our lips dancing together once more, the realization that this was my life now making my head feel light with all the happiness inside of me. This was my bed, this was my woman and it was only just beginning.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Well, that’s a relief,” I teased, taking advantage of the little break that he had given my lips as he slowly but surely laid kissed around every inch of my chest. “For a second there, I thought you wouldn’t want to do dirty things to me anymore.”

That earned me a laugh, muffled by the way his lips were pressed against my neck and making me laugh by reflex, since his beard kept tickling me. “Oh, believe me, pretty girl… There’s a lot of dirty stuff I want to do to you. And I won’t lie, some of them are probably still going to happen in my office.”

I tried to swallow back a whimper that made its way to my lips as Andy licked a stripe up my neck, only stopping to nibble on my jaw before admitting to his plans. “After all, I really can’t control myself when you wear those tight skirts to work. But I don’t think they can really be blamed.”

Pink lips wrapped around my nipple and a gasp did escape me, my hands flying to hold Andy’s locks to keep him attached to my chest, but he had other ideas. “I just can’t seem to be able to be near you without desperately wanting you,” he finished, eyes connected to mine and mouth glistening with the saliva he had spread over my breasts. “You’re just too much of a temptation.”

Now, of course, after such a declaration, what can a girl do? I didn’t seem to find the words to vocalize just how I felt about him too, too busy trying to control my heart and clutching his shoulders while he sucked lovebites all over my exposed body. We didn’t really have to worry about them now, even if they would seem terribly unprofessional for some of the senior partners.

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart,” he urged, and I swallowed dryly before finally voicing, “I want your cock in my mouth, daddy. I want to make you feel good.” Andy audibly groaned at my request, quickly rolling off of me and discarding his pants while I assumed a familiar and very comfortable position between his legs.

My mouth watered at the sight of his already fully hardened member, and I reached out to replace his hand that was slowly jerking it off with mine, leaning down to give the head a small kitten lick just like I knew he liked to be teased.

“Fuck, darling,” he moaned, and I could feel myself growing wetter at the pure power that I felt at having this man so fucking needy for me. When I slowly started to suck on the head of his cock, making my way further down inch by inch, the signs of impatience that became evident in his body only made my desire grow.

“C’mon, pretty girl,” he half begged, half ordered, leg twisting behind me in an effort to control himself. “Take it all on your own, like you always do. Make me proud.” Shit, he knew just what to say to have me quickly gagging on his cock out of my own free will.

I didn’t even think twice before going down on him until my lips met his navel. If anything, the strangled moan he tried to stop, the way his hips instinctively raised up and blocked the air from my lungs, making my eyes water, only served as incentives for me to keep going, up and down, up and down, licking and swirling and sucking until my jaw started to hurt and still, I didn’t want to stop.

Andy’s P.O.V.

It was always a battle between allowing myself to spill in her delicious mouth or perfect pussy, but today, I had other plans - and they involved me having to exercise incredible restraint as I pulled her away from my member by her hair, chuckling at the whine she let out.

“Lay down,” I ordered nodding towards the bed, and she quickly did so, crawling on her hands and knees towards the center of the mattress, but just before she could reach it, I pulled her by her ankle and turned her around myself.

“Can’t wait to fill you, sweetheart.” I was impatient, that much was obvious, but I don’t think she minded by the way her hips thrusted back to meet my fingers as I fucked her open with them, using my thumb to rub her throbbing little clit. “Do you want that?”

She nodded, managing to hold eye contact but not capable of saying anything, her bottom lip held tightly by her teeth as she struggled to swallow the whines I begged to hear. “Beg me for it,” I ordered, picking up the pace and curling my digits until I was able to hit her sweet spot every time I thrusted into her tight channel. “I want to know how badly you want me, I want to see if it even *comes close to my own desire for you.”

A gasp was still all I received as a response, and I had to contain my smile as I slowed down my movements, making them sweeter but deeper. I knew what was holding her back, and it wasn’t the weakness of her desire when contrasted to mine. “It’s alright, darling. You can scream, you can cry out my name as loud as you want. We don’t have to be quiet anymore.”

When her eyes met mine again, I could see that she understood, but it was still hard for her to fully let go. So I picked up the pace of my fingers, leaning over her to suck a bruise on her collarbones before whispering in her ear, “C’mon, pretty girl. I’ve always loved to see you squirming, trying to keep those beautiful sounds in, but right now, I’m dying to hear you moan.”

Her orgasm was what finally made her lose control, cumming while screaming my name, making me grin from ear to ear and keep the pace of my digits until her hand covered my wrist, a silent plea for me to let her calm down. I allowed her that, pulling away from her with a brief kiss on the forehead before turning my attention to myself, curling my fist around my cock that twitched with only that slight stimulation, probably because of the debauched scene before me.

It didn’t take long for her small hand to cover mine, forcing myself to jerk the throbbing member as a sign that she was ready for more, now. And so I pulled her even closer, forcing her legs to open wider before I rubbed the head of my cock between her lower lips, gathering some of the moisture there.

“You ready?” Pushing into her for the first time was always incredible. Often, it’d take me back to that long night we’d spent trying to work on a difficult case, when it all became too much for both of us to handle and I gave into temptation, bending her over my desk before burying myself inside of her.

The way she gasped so prettily at the feeling of my cock stretching her open was still the same, and it mirrored the way I groaned at how her tight walls squeezed me as I tried to bottom out inside of her. “So fucking tight,” I noted, arms resting on each side of her face as I waited for us both to grow used to the feeling of being connected again.

I kissed her once more before starting to move, losing myself in the taste of her while she messed up my hair, running her fingers through it to hold onto the locks when I did start to fuck her against the mattress. The feeling of her hands traveling further south, until suddenly I felt her nails running down my back, had me jerking abruptly in surprise, the realization that now she could leave marks on my body only leaving me more desperate for her, to make her mine once and for all.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Fuck.” The way he gasped against my mouth was so pretty, I wanted to keep hearing it for the rest of my life. “You’re mine now, sweetheart. This is where you’ll spend the rest of your life, right here, getting filled by my cock over and over again.”

It didn’t seem like a bad future to have, especially when he squeezed my hips so tight, trying to control himself so this wouldn’t end so soon. “Fuck, no one can make me feel as good as you do, darling. No one.”

My body felt warm, like a fire had been lit inside, and the only thing that made it simultaneously more controlled and brighter was kissing him, feeling him connected to me, from his forehead to his toes.

I loved this man. God, I loved him, and it felt so good to be able to feel this way, without having any guilt attached to this wonderful feeling. Knowing that he was now mine and only mine, that I could give my whole heart to him without any fear, because he’d given me his.

It felt different this time, regardless of the dozens of times I’d had him inside of me. It was like we were both stripped to our very soul, finally getting to introduce them to each other, and there was a connection, a certain recognition that I just couldn’t put into words - especially not when he was fucking me this good. We just worked. It’s like despite how it all began, we were meant to be.

“Fuck, I love you so much.” And it was that declaration of love that had me clenching around him, reaching the high of desire that only he could show me. It didn’t surprise me that as soon as my orgasm began, he started to lose the rhythm of his thrusts, until he was groaning, “I’m cumming, I’m gonna cum inside of you, just like I promised, pretty girl.”

The reminder seemed to awaken every single nerve end on my body, and I gasped as I felt another orgasm building as his movements grew more frantic. “Don’t you want it? Don’t you want my cum? Say it, sweetheart. Say you want my cum.”

The reality of the situation hit me then, serving as an added stimulation to my already overworked body. He really wanted this. We were really doing this. “Yes, of course I want it. I want your cum, daddy.”

That was it for him. I watched as Andy threw his head back, eyes closed in bliss while his biceps bulged in an effort to keep him from falling on top of me. “Yessss… Make me a dad, Y/N,” he roared, suddenly pushing himself away from me to hold my legs open even wider, fingertips buried on the flesh of my thighs.

I felt his release paint my insides, and our eyes connected just then, acknowledging the weight of the moment between us. His hand reached out to stroke my chin before he carefully rolled us over so I could rest on his chest without him leaving me.

“I can’t believe we get to stay here for as long as we want,” he suddenly spoke, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen between us. “No more excuses, no more hiding. Just you and me, and this big and comfortable bed.”

“I can’t believe I get to fall asleep next to you…” I whispered, lightly tracing over his jawline until he turned to meet my eyes, hand holding my wrist tightly to catch my attention - as if it wasn’t already on him.

“I can’t believe you think you’ll be getting any sleep tonight.” And with that fortunate prediction into my future, I knew it would be full of giggles and satisfaction, just as long as I got to have Andy by my side.

[iheartbookbran]

Ok so actually my biggest problem with the whole “Daenerys will burn KL” theory—not even the Mad Queen Dany theory, which is of course very sexist for obvious reasons, but just like, the idea that Dany will ~accidentally~ ignite the wildfire in the city, burning it all to the ground. That, at first, doesn’t sound that bad, but the longer I think about it the more I hate it because tbh it doesn’t do anything for her character? And also… that fate for her is just down right cruel.

Like, the most frequent argument I see on why this would be at all satisfactory for Dany’s arc is basically that it would be a sort of lesson for her about the dangers of unchecked power and the real threat the Dragons can pose on humans and that she shouldn’t use them to fight against other people. And that’s all well and good, excellent message… except that’s not something Dany’s ever really needed to learn? Not anymore that her fellow rulers, which I will touch on more detail later, but in general Dany has seen what the abuse of power can do. Starting with her conflicting feelings regarding Viserys and how she recognizes that even though he was her brother and she loved him, he also abused his power over her as her older brother, her only family and her king; she feels guilt about the atrocities Drogo committed to the lhazarene and tries to help them; she feels so much guilt about not handling things correctly in Astapor that she decides to throw away all her plans to go to Westeros and instead stays in Meereen.

And about not knowing the true danger that her dragons can pose? I mean, this is the same girl that literally agonizes across several of her ADWD chapters because Drogon killed a child, and then takes the extreme measure of caging Rhaegal and Viserion to prevent that from ever happening again. I think she’s at least a little bit aware that the dragons can be dangerous, thank you very much.

Ok so this got long...

Anyways, the only time Dany legit uses Drogon to harm someone and not just as bluff was at the house of the Undying, where she was being attacked, and in Astapor… and like, lmao, that asshole Kraznys mo Nakloz and the rest of his slaver buddies deserved it. Don’t at me. Also, Dany’s hardly the only one with a big magical and deadly beast at her disposal, why didn’t Robb had to go through some horrifying traumatic incident to learn he shouldn’t use Grey Wind in battle to tear his enemies’ throats. Bran will be learning about the dangers of abusing power, but that’s linked to his magic powers and an actual reprehensible thing he’s doing, not the use of his glorified prehistoric dog to kill, which he’s done, just like Robb. By all means let the narrative hold Dany accountable for her mistakes… but her actual mistakes and not shit she has no control over, because she doesn’t have much control over Drogon or the other dragons even though she’s trying to, and that’s very obvious in her last ADWD chapter where she’s delirious and Drogon could kill her at any moment, and she knows that.

The other big argument people make for Dany burning KL (even if it’s by accident!) is that it will teach her about the price of war, that someone as young as her shouldn’t be leading armies and conquering kingdoms, and that fighting for the Iron Throne is not a worthy cause, and I feel like that misses the actual point of her story by a mile. First of all because a) Dany is hardly the only teenage ruler in the story and b) this is a fantasy medieval story, a lot of the characters shouldn’t be doing the things they do, aaaand yet. Also speaking of other teenage rulers with far more power that they should have—Robb and Jon, being the biggest examples.

Granted, Robb and Jon aren’t exactly successful during their time as rulers, they’re literally betrayed and killed by their own men (even if Jon will technically come back for round 2 of bullshit he’s too tired for). But the moral of their stories is not that they lost because theirs was an unworthy cause and they were stupid kids wholly unprepared for their roles. And I actually partially agree! They are just kids, including Dany, and they shouldn’t be responsible for looking after so many others and going to battle, but their cause is still just and worthy, even with all the mistakes they make along the way. Robb didn’t loose because he was wrong in demanding justice for his family or trying to protect the riverlands from the Lannisters and their minions, he lost because Tywin Lannister was a giant coward who couldn’t take him out in a fair fight.

Likewise, it isn’t wrong of Jon to try to incorporate refugees from beyond the Wall into Westeros. He’s not too stupid and honorable to do politics like his father (how I hate when people insult Jon and Ned like that), and while he did some very obvious mistakes that inevitably ended in a coup and in him dying, this is more connected to his inability to let go of his ties with his family (mainly Arya or who he believes to be her), and in isolating himself from his friends and the people he could actually trust.

I’ve always thought that Dany and Jon share a parallel narrative within the story, so while Jon is struggling with that Dany is faced with similar problems. She cages her dragons, that to her represent the only family she has left, and she tries to compromise with the slavers, marry a man she doesn’t love, pretend she’s ok with reopening the fighting pit. While she tries her best to rule wisely in Meereen, it all comes at the cost of betraying herself and her beliefs, so it’s no surprise when it all crashes around her and she’s betrayed and nearly killed. Ironically, it is Drogon who comes to rescue her.

If they are monsters, so am I.—Daenerys II, ADWD.

This is hands down one of my favorite Dany quotes from the whole series, and I hate that it’s been given such a negative connotation in the fandom, when for me it represents Dany’s humanity and compassion at the fullest.

GRRM has a knack for humanizing the ‘monsters’ of his story, for showing the good in the outcasts and the ugly and the scary. He embraces their ‘otherness’ and makes them the heroes of his stories; Arya, Bran, Brienne, Dany, Tyrion, Jon, Theon and many others are all compared to monsters or beasts at one point or another in the books.

Dany sees herself in her dragons, literal monsters in every sense of the word. Later on she faces Drogon inside the pit, and in that moment you could say that she accepts that ‘monstrous’ part of her, and in doing so she’s saved from her fate of dying at the hands of the men who would crucify innocent children and gleefully profit off of the suffering of their fellow human beings while watching them fight each other to the death for their own amusement. Now tell me who’s the real monster in this situation.

But shortly before that happens, Dany is able to see the humanity in Tyrion, an outcast who has been branded as monstrous and unlovable due to his disability all his life, a man who has come to believe in his abusers’ rhetoric about him so strongly that he’s started to act cruel and detached. She saves his life. She sees value in his life when few others would, because she cares.

I’ve always find it funny that the “dragons plant no trees” is—another—example fans use to argue in favor of Dany’s descent into Darkness™ because the actual scene goes like this:

You are a queen, her bear said. In Westeros.

"It is such a long way," she complained. "I was tired, Jorah. I was weary of war. I wanted to rest, to laugh, to plant trees and see them grow. I am only a young girl."

No. You are the blood of the dragon. The whispering was growing fainter, as if Ser Jorah were falling farther behind. Dragons plant no trees. Remember that. Remember who you are, what you were made to be. Remember your words.—Daenerys X, ADWD.

Now am I the only one who finds it at least a bit relevant that it’s freaking Jorah Mormont aka Jorah the Enslaver whom Dany’s subconscious, at her literal lowest moment, utilizes to represent this particular thought, which btw I’ve always interpreted as Dany’s own self-loathing manifesting in her, and this is something she’s actually always struggled with—the idea that she’s not enough and she’s failing. Because above all things, even Westeros or the Iron Throne, what Dany wants is peace, she wants to plant trees.

When Dany made her descent, Reznak and Skahaz dropped to their knees. "Your Worship shines so brightly, you will blind every man who dares to look upon you," said Reznak. […] This match will save our city, you will see."

"So we pray. I want to plant my olive trees and see them fruit." Does it matter that Hizdahr's kisses do not please me? Peace will please me. Am I a queen or just a woman?—Daenerys VII, ADWD.

But of course the world doesn’t work like that, and so long as there’s Jorahs and Tywins and Eurons out there, men who would take the freedom of humans and submit them to their will, Dany can’t have the luxury of peace, just like Jon can’t have the luxury of belonging and family so long as there’s people still beyond the Wall who need his protection.

And I think that’s fine. It’s fine that Dany failed, it will help her develop as a character and realize that there’s no room to compromise with slavers, the metaphorical monsters of the story who do far more harm than the other more literal ‘monsters’ of the story. So that when she has to face down Euron Greyjoy—who btw, there’s a high chance he will end up stealing one of Dany’s dragons via Victarion using Dragonbinder… y’know, as in enslaving one of her children and using said dragon to inflict god knows what horrors, yet not many people ever consider this for some reason?—she will know. When she has to face down the Others, the magical ice fairies with no regard for human life, she will know.

That’s why I believe that it would make absolutely no sense for Dany to have to go through such a tragic and traumatic experience like burning a whole city even by pure accident, over something that’s either never been a problem with her character or she’s well into her way of learning anyways, so it would just feel repetitive. As I have pointed out, she’s already reached one of the lowest moments of her arc. Not saying there will be no other blows for her, and probably the destruction of KL will be one of them, and knowing Dany she will feel responsibility over it no matter what, but that doesn’t mean she has to be the culprit, intentional or otherwise.

[kstewdeux]

@inuvember

Wolf packs, naturally, are comprised of family units. Not that their tribe was incest laced or anything but, for the most part, most - if not all - of the wolves in the tribe stemmed from one common ancestor. The first in their prestigious line that had spanned hundreds if not thousands of years. Fresh blood was infused every decade or so when smaller tribes came looking for safety in numbers. But despite the fact that not even one was directly related, there was tradition which dictated that the leaders picked their betas from among the immediate relatives. Siblings normally but in the absence thereof, a more distant relation was selected. So it was that Koga, the only child of the latest alpha, came of age and as such, the game was afoot. Everyone who was anyone wanted one of their children to be chosen as beta. In fact, many of the children had been born with that very goal in mind. Timing was everything.

So it was that out of a plethora of respectable options - twenty two to be exact…

Koga went and picked the two orphaned charity cases who were only taken in out of pity.

To add insult to injury, he only picked them after having to rescue them from drowning. Not because of some respectable reason mind you. Oh no. They’d slipped on some river stones, lost their balance trying to catch one another and tumbled over a freaking waterfall. Holding hands for some asinine reason. Never once letting go. Two completely uncoordinated, weak, utterly useless idiots who got themselves in a very avoidable situation.

But at the ripe and wise age of thirteen, Koga took one hard look at the two wet pathetic boys he pulled from the depths and said “you’ll do.”

The decision was horrifying. Out of what was a humiliating situation, Koga saw something he liked and made a lifetime commitment.

Just like that.

The initial proclamation was a few sentences at most.

“You risked your lives to save one another. You’re loyal. I’m going to make you my betas.”

No one believed he was serious. First of all, he called that loyalty? Most of the wolves were loyal and all of the other hopefuls were stronger. Didn’t strength play a factor?! Those two blistering idiots were about as helpful as a feather in battle. Lifetime commitments, especially serious ones, shouldn’t be made based on one particular personality trait. Those two had to be the most incompetent, brainless…

But oh, those two worshipped the very ground Koga walked on from that day forward and Koga trusted them implicitly. He confided in those two hot messes. Took them both everywhere. In some bizarre twist of fate, those two were the only ones who could intercede on your behalf when Koga wasn’t feeling merciful. They had the power to tame that wild temper and their opinion was the only one Koga considered aside from his own. They were the only ones who knew how to tell him it might be better to retreat or take a moment to recover. How or why didn’t matter. Within the year, it became clear that those two - somehow - complimented Koga perfectly.

Which made the whole situation worse.

It was maddening. It made no sense! It broke tradition! Was that seriously all Koga cared about?! Loyalty?! For goodness sakes, what they did wasn’t about loyalty! Holding hands as you literally fall over a waterfall was probably more about a lack of instinct than anything. An example of why they were unfit! Meanwhile, Koga was the most powerful wolf ever to be born into any of the tribes and he picked his betas in an impulsive manner. A reckless manner. A very concerning manner.

If that’s how he made decisions, everyone who was anyone made it very clear they were concerned. Mainly for reasons that were their own but still…everyone had to admit those concerns made sense, right? After all, those boys had no family left. They weren’t even related by blood! They were outsiders! Different! Odd! Weak! One of them was arguably stupid and…and…

Well, would Koga make all his big decisions that way? Was this the first real sign of what he’d be like as a leader?! Just spur of the moment rash decisions that put the whole tribe at risk?! Okay, that last bit was a very mild exaggeration but still…

There was one thing about Koga though. Once he made a decision, heaven itself couldn’t move him. It might as well have been written in stone.

[lumosinlove]

Relic Keel

(Warnings in tags)

part i

Sirius woke up with the sun for one reason only. He wanted to see the far off, white sails of Lupin’s boat.

Some people came to Hogwarts Island for the yearly trade show in Helga. Some people came for the resorts. Some came for the waves, perfect for surfing. Some came for the history.

If Sirius hadn’t already lived there his entire life, he would have come for those white sails. But he’d always been here. This island didn’t let many go. Not even Lupin’s boat truly went. It always stayed in view, never even close to a dot on the horizon. Sirius only ever saw the tourists really leave. And they didn’t count. They were strangers.

Sirius pushed himself up from the mattress he’d dumped on the floor one day and never bothered with again, and glanced at Saint, who had fallen asleep on the porch hammock. A book was clutched to his chest. James got them for him, from the island bookstore or his father’s library. Anything he wanted. He even told Saint to keep them sometimes, but Saint never would.

“If I’ve read it, I’ve got it up here,” Saint would say. “I don’t need people asking questions about how I got them anyway.”

“Tell them the truth,” James would say. “I got them for you.”

Saint would just laugh. Everything about Saint was sunny, all the way down to his honey brown skin and bright smile, his golden hair and his amber eyes. Sometimes his laughs weren’t though. Sometimes things about Saint promised storms.

“Or one of the Gods,”—a Hollow word for Godric’s inhabitants— “could say I stole them,” Saint would always reply. “And it’d be all over from there for this St. Clair.”

St. Clair was the name given to all the kids of the island who didn’t have one. It was the name of Godric’s church and orphanage, and Saint Clair was the saint of the island. They thought they were doing a nice thing, giving orphans a name.

The Hallow called him Saint because he wasn’t one, though, and that was why Saint liked it. He wasn’t a St. Clair. He was no saint. No one was.

“Pretty fun,” Saint would laugh. “To be known for what you’re not.”

“Not to mention,” was another one of his sayings, “I get to go around telling all the people of the island that they can worship me in bed.”

Only Sirius knew his real name.

Hogwarts Island had four neighborhoods. Hot all year round, and just off the coast of Guadeloupe in the French territory of the West Indies Islands.

Your island paradise! said the sign on the main port dock in Rowena.

Sirius had spray painted that sign. More than once. Saint liked to replace the dice with site, just to freak people out a little. The tourists took pictures of it anyway, and then of each other. Zinc covered faces, or barely covered girls on spring break. It didn’t matter. They would all be gone in, at most, two weeks. Hogwarts was small, and the neighborhoods kept to themselves. Tourists were both a part of and outside the dynamic.

First, and northward, there was Godric. Money, money, money. Great manors lined the streets, built in the days of French occupation. They were still mostly filled with the old families—Potter, Lupin, McKinnon, Evans, Deveaux. Sirius always swore that more money went to these peoples’ golf courses and gardens and swimming pools than to food and water. It was also where the main hotels were. Griffin Beach was lined with villas and hotels and resorts, all either pointing outwards towards the endless ocean, or inwards, towards the pools and bars and Gryffindor Golf course.

In the western part of the island was Rowena. Rowena was where the island’s port was. It was where the tourists came in, only to get swindled into paying too much for crappy hotels, for their drinks, and for surfboard rentals.

To the East lay Helga. Anything anyone needed, they found it in Helga. Rows and rows of the finest craftsmen. Helga held the other part of Hogwarts’ main income. What the tourists didn’t cover, Helga’s treasures and their yearly trade show did. 

Finally, there was Salazar. The snake of the South, people called it, because it wound all the way out to the skinniest, most pointed part of the island. Salazar was equal part money and dirt. Salazar held more old families, more old money. The Montagues and Capulates, Saint liked to say, the Jets and Sharks. Lestrange, Carrow, Meadowes. Black. The houses, Gothic and looming and built within inches of each other, were the maze of the drug dealers. One quarter of it, at least. Normally, Sirius Black would have nothing but hatred for his home arrondissement, the one he hadn’t re-entered in almost seven years now, for fear of never escaping again, but Salazar had produced Dorcas, after all. And Dorcas was one of Sirius’ closest friends. Doras gave Salazar, if not a redeemable image, proof that it wasn’t a complete hell-hole. There were rarely any cross-over. Godrics stuck to Godric, Salazars to Salazar, and so on. Unless there was trouble.

But then there was The Hollow. It was a sliver of a place, right on the northern-most shoreline. Ironically placed beside Griffin Beach, just outside of Godric. A small slice of land dedicated to…no one really knew who. Runaways, like Sirius? Do-what-you-wants, like Dorcas? Godric-rich-boy-looking-for-a-thrill, like James? Or had you been born there, like Saint?

To the island, they were like the poor of Ancient Rome, slanting wood against the outside of the city’s walls for shelter. But it didn’t feel that way. Not to the people inside.

Some knew what they had done to end up there. Some didn’t. Everyone knew that was it though. You didn’t make it out of The Hallow. Saint liked to say that you had to make it in. Like some A-lister Godric club. A tangle of too low wires, stollen cable, junk yards and thatched, patched houses. More surfboards outside of houses than cars.

They called their little piece of wood leant against the Roman wall Grimmauld Place. Grim old place, in French. Sirius didn’t know why. It wasn’t grim to him. It had always been called that, forever, named by just another somebody that no one knew. A shelter, gorgeous and haphazard, built by different inhabitants over the years, that was half on the ground and half in the trees. Rope ladders, rope bridges. Spirals and spirals of it. Warm, hanging lanterns all the way up into the branches of the biggest oak tree Sirius had ever seen. Like fireflies. None of Godric’s window screen mania. You wanted the sun on your face, you wanted the ocean breeze, you’d deal with a few mosquitoes. Sirius knew that the sun, the sand between his toes, his friends, just a level below…it was worth it. He’d never forget the first time he’d seen it, Saint looking over the railing, much younger, and telling him to fuck off. He’d take it over the dark halls he had grown up in any day.

Sirius planted his feet on the floor and pushed himself up, going to the sink for a glass of water and so he could stare out the window some more. There it was. Sirius loved that boat. The sailor sailed it like they were trying to escape, too. Only, Sirius couldn’t think of a reason a Lupin would want or need to escape. He’d seen their house plenty of times, almost everyday when he went to work at the Potter’s. But that boat…it didn’t fit anything else about the Gods, except perhaps that they could afford it. Sirius loved that boat, he loved its billowing sails, and the looping script reading, Wolfsbane, its name, across the side.

The sky was just beginning to give up dawn, and Sirius wanted to be closer.

He put his glass down and shoved his feet into his flip-flops. Saint was closer to falling out of his hammock now, and dappled in the pale light between palm trees. Sirius gave the hooked fabric a kick, and Saint flailed awake.

“Fucker,” Saint said, one eye open and voice groggy.

“I can’t sleep,” Sirius said. “Let’s go do something.”

“What time is it?”

“Almost dawn.”

It was all Sirius needed to say. Saint threw a hand over his eyes before rolling to his feet and stretching his back. Sirius stared out over one of the railings of Grimmauld and all he could see was ocean. He looked for his boat, his white-sailed perfect thing, and then turned away. He’d have time to watch again at the beach.

The Hollow was grand to Sirius, mostly because it was the farthest away from Salazar that one could get. At this point, Godric, as much as Sirius hated it, felt like a point of protection. If Salazars hated the Godrics, they’d hate having to go through them to get to the Hollow even more. But the Hollow was great for other reasons.

Shack Beach was theirs. No tourists. No villas or hotels that shooed you away from the private bars and lounge chairs. It was empty, and so it was full. And the waves. Oceanic rollers that pushed you up, that let you get your feet under you, or forced you down beneath the surface in a tumble of salt and sand. Not so great during a hurricane, but glorious for this.

Sirius hefted his board under his arm before throwing it into the sand and stretching his arms back, then up above his head. Saint was doing the same beside him, his wooden, sea-soaked cross hanging around his neck.

“D’accord, Black,” Saint said. “Wagers?”

“Whoever gets the most air has to play lookout for Dorcas,” Sirius said. “And dinner.”

“High stakes,” Saint whistled lowly. “Fine.” Saint’s smile was sharp. “Go.”

They took off at a run.

The water, although warm, was the shock Sirius needed. Saint beside him, as always, and the unknown weight of creatures and water below them. It was terrifying and thrilling. The ocean floor was dark this early, but Sirius stared down at it anyway as they sat on their boards, waiting. They didn’t need light for this part anyway. Sirius could recognize the telltale pull of the tides in his sleep.

“Oh,” Saint drew out the sound, tilting his head back. “I feel it, baby.”

Sirius turned wordlessly back towards the shore, Saint following with a flash of a smile, as they began to paddle. Sirius felt the lift, the curl, heard the water begin to rush and rush, faster and faster. The water kissed his feet and hands. Sirius jumped himself up and let out a long whoop, laughing as he gained his footing with a few twirls before pushing himself up towards the crest. He curled around the top of the wave and there was the Wolfsbane again, just for a moment, before it disappeared to the sea again. Sirius, for a moment, had felt like he was sailing beside it, with it.

They could stay out there for hours, always had been able to, but Sirius had work soon. They went until Sirius felt thoroughly salt-drenched, lips parched. Dragging their boards, they collapsed together in a small thicket of palm trees, up the beach a little. It was like a small cave of bark and wind-rustled leaves. There were still a few stars visible, and Sirius closed one eye and connected them with his finger.

“Dipper?” Saint said.

“Just Orion,” Sirius sighed and dropped his hand. “We learned that in school.”

Saint snorted. “When’s the last time we went to school?”

“True,” Sirius laughed, then, “You should steal the Wolfsbane for me."

Saint looked over at him. “What is it with you and the Lupins’ boat?”

Sirius just shrugged. He didn’t know. “I miss sailing, maybe.”

“You know Kris will let you take one of his out at the marina,” Saint replied.

“I don’t want to get him in trouble. He already lends us the motorboat, anyway.”

“You’re all trouble,” Saint said, and then he knocked their ankles together when they had been quiet for a few moments.

“Well?” he asked quietly as the sun began to warm them.

Sirius turned to look at Saint, sand in his hair. He laughed. They both knew what that meant.

“That sort of day, huh?” Sirius said.

“I’m asking for you,” Saint said. “I can go wherever I please, Dorcas has Marlene, but you…” Saint made a tisking sound. “Oh, Sirius Black. You lonely creature of the sea.”

Sirius scoffed. “You’re always so romantic.”

“Come on,” Saint propped himself up on an elbow and pressed a warm palm to Sirius’ bare chest. “It’s nice. It’s nice because we know each other.”

“Why do you always do this to me in public places?”

Saint raised an eyebrow and looked around the empty sands.

Sirius knew Saint could feel his chest rising and falling beneath his hand, knew that if he dragged it down some he would feel Sirius stirring in his swim trunks. Saint was his best friend. It was easy with Saint. There was no risk of losing Saint. Except maybe to Saint Clair, but they never went to Salazar, and Salazar had yet to come to them.

“Come here,” Sirius sighed, as if he was entirely put upon, and Saint made a pleased noise and leaned down for a kiss. He tasted like the sea, salty and smooth. Sirius pressed a hand to his back, coated with sand.

“Sandy hand jobs,” Sirius grumbled into his mouth. “My favorite.”

“There’s no sand in my mouth,” Saint breathed out and threw a leg over Sirius’ hips, mouth moving down to suck at Sirius’ neck. Sirius let his eyes close, hand squeezing around one of Saint’s strong shoulders.

“That’s true,” he said.

The barely there light in the sky cast Saint’s skin in blue, his light curls taking on the color, too as he kissed down Sirius’ chest, whose breathing was coming faster. He bit playfully at Sirius’ hip when he reached the band of his swim shorts and Sirius laughed, hitting his head lightly.

“We gotta go soon.”

“So?” Saint looked up with one of his sharp smiles, his freckles sprinkling his brown skin and honey eyes.

Sirius did love Saint. They loved each other, in their own way. For a long time now, they had been all each other had. Some type of love had to grow out of that. It just had to.

He was warm and felt safe as Saint’s mouth slipped over him, nursing him slowly. Sirius threaded his fingers into Saint’s salt-tangled hair and let his head loll back in the sand.

Sirius didn’t relax often. Saint knew that because he was the same, even if he pretended he wasn’t. The closest Sirius got, besides this, was in the ocean. Something to focus on. Something to look for and be careful about. Something to love.

He breathed out slowly, trying to quiet his mind and pass all his attention to Saint. He was stiffening quickly to full hardness from the wet heat, and his hands in Saint’s hair moved with his movements, sounds soft.

Sirius let himself stare out at the ocean again. The Wolfsbane was filled with wind, the double pontoons tilted so that one was a little ways out of the water. He could only barely make out the sailor’s silhouette. He didn’t know which Lupin it was. They was skilled though, very skilled. Sirius would do anything to have a sailboat of his own that he could take out every single day. He envied the sailor.

It didn’t take him long to come, not with Saint knowing his body so well. Soon, he was open mouthed, back arching as Saint pulled his orgasm from him.

Saint smiled when he leaned back, sitting on his heels and tucking Sirius back inside his shorts. “Worship me yet?”

“Always,” Sirius panted. “What do you want?”

“Have you seen your mouth?”

Sirius hummed and surged up to kiss him before knocking him back into the sand. They wrestled, rolling and laughing together in the dune, before settling with Sirius on top, hands pinning Saint’s wrists.

“Go on,” Saint grinned, then parroted, “we gotta go soon.”

“So romantic.”

Sirius reached into Saint’s suit and took his cock, hot and throbbing into his hands, biting his lip at the way Saint’s mouth dropped open. Saint really was beautiful. Sirius thought there must be something wrong with him to not want him in the way that he should.

“Life’s not too bad,” Saint sighed after, as Sirius rolled to lay next to him again. “Island. Surfing. Sex. We’re basically The Beach Boys.”

Sirius laughed. “Basically.”

Saint made a disgruntled noise. “Is it weird that we aren’t in love?”

“Yeah,” Sirius replied. “It sort of is.”

“Do you wish we were?” Saint looked at his profile.

Sirius returned his gaze, their noses close. He nodded, sand shifting in his ear. “Sometimes.”

“Gosh, we suck.”

“We really do,” Sirius patted near where Saint’s swimsuit was still askew. “Literally.”

Saint let out a loud laugh, pulling his trunks up, and Sirius a long groan.

“Gotta go to work.”

“Poor baby,” Saint said.

“You also have to go to work.”

“Poor me.”

“You also owe me dinner. And your Dorcas’ look out. I won.”

Saint sat up. “Then I gotta go to work.”

Sirius smiled and looked back out over the waves. The white sails were pushing back West, towards Lupin House to dock. He’d have to wait until tomorrow to see them filled and tilting again.

~

Dorcas slung her backpack on while Saint all but forced the Jeep into park. She hopped out of the door-less side and turned to grin at him, elbows resting against the hot metal of the rusty blue sides.

“One hour,” Saint said, already kicking his seat backwards and pulling out his earbuds. “Then I have work. Don’t think I won’t leave you here.”

“You’re a saint, baby, really.”

Saint flicked his sunglasses down over his eyes. “Don’t I know it.”

Dorcas waved him off before jogging lowly around the back of the McKinnon’s gardens, skirting the gate until she found the bent out posts. She threw her backpack through first, before sliding through herself on her stomach. The manicured grass stained her tank top green in places, but Marlene wouldn’t care. Marlene was an angel. Dorcas was positive.

Marlene’s father, not so much.

Dorcas kept away from the vast windows until she could pull herself up one of the drain pipes that led straight to Marlene’s bedroom window. She crouched, sneakers wedged against roof tiles, and tapped on the glass.

At first, all Dorcas could see through the window was Marlene’s familiar bedroom, the sunlight partially reflecting herself back at her, her chin length dark hair, backwards hat and tank top. In the rest, Marlene’s bright walls, once white but now covered with posters and Marlene’s paintings. Concert posters, random letters from the Hollow’s old abandoned movie theater marque that Dorcas had brought her, and the oil paint in swirling shapes or stroked to form friends’ faces. Dorcas saw her own face many times, and the sight was warmer than the hot sun.

Then, Marlene was there, blonde hair falling over her shoulders. She pressed her forehead to the warm glass briefly before pushing the window, sticking with the heat, open.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Dorcas said.

“D,” Marlene sighed, and pulled her in.

Marlene was an angel. Dorcas was sure.

~

Saint felt uneasy in Godric. He probably always would. He kept his earbuds in, but tapped off beat and nervously, glancing back at the McKinnon house every once in a while. All these houses looked the same. The lawns were so green that they rivaled the sea, aqua and glimmering in the sunlight. He didn’t like that. He didn’t like the women, seemingly ever out for a morning speed-walk with each other, died blonde hair piled high on their heads, who stopped to ask, Do you do lawns? What about pools?

Saint merely slid his sunglasses off, smiled at them, and they were lost. Their eyes went bright, their mouths giggly. Boy from The Hollow, they would whisper to their friends later, so sad to waste such a face—

Saint had always been beautiful. He knew that. But it didn’t matter so much when you were from where he was. In Godric, beauty was key. Anywhere else, it was a waste.

And then they’d see his neck. The cross with the 7 singed there, hanging around his neck.

Oh, they’d gasp, oh, sweetheart, you’re one of those St. Clair Church orphans aren’t you?

A waste. A waste.

The nuns—waste of space, wasteofspacewasteof—

Saint hated the Godric men, with their linen pants and green juices. Walking their property lines and greeting each other each morning, like Roman elite on their salutatio.

Saint was here for Dorcas, who for some reason had decided to love one of those men and women’s daughters. He could never.

That was the surest way to be a waste. Why love them? Why love anyone who was raised like this? By these people?

There was an excitement that came with The Hollow for the Godrics. A strange fascination, animal and exotic. Marlene, to her credit, didn’t have it. She loved Dorcas, too. James Potter…Saint liked James well enough. But both he and Marlene could still go home every night. They didn’t live it. Not like Dorcas, not like Sirius, not like himself.

Yes, Saint would say. I do lawns. I clean pools.

Saint grinned sweetly. Sultry.

He’d also steal their favorite gold necklace.

~

“So, Remus, what do you plan to do with yourself this summer, sweetheart?”

Remus looked across the dining room table at his parents. His mother was looking at him expectantly, knife and fork poised, and his mind had still been with the wind and the sea.

“I know the history museum is always looking for volunteers, which looks wonderful on a college application,” his mother continued when Remus had paused for too long.

Remus nodded, hoping to keep his expression pleasant, and cut his pork chop. “Maybe. I was hoping to lean in a little bit of a different direction.”

“Oh?”

“Just sailing, I mean. Racing. There are prizes, some of them with money attached. Good for scholarships, or…”

Remus’ father chewed slowly. “Oh. Well, yes. But you have the mornings to do that. Something more productive with your day, maybe. What are the other boys on the team doing, for example. Maybe ask James or Luke or Thomas. Well, maybe not Luke, given everything that happened this year.”

Remus only nodded again, biting down everything else. But he wanted to race sailboats, run with them, he wouldn’t say. What could be more productive?

“Yeah,” he said instead. “I’ll look into some options around town.”

That, made his mother and father smile.

Julian sat to Remus’ left swinging his legs and looking between them all.

“Can I go out on Wolfsbane?” Julian asked hopefully. Julian, through Remus, had developed an incredible love for Remus’ sailboat and wanted nothing more than a ride.

“Absolutely not,” Remus’ mother said. “Not until you’ve finished your lessons at the Club.”

The Club. Dreaded words. Gryffindor Club, what Remus and Marlene secretly called The Yacht, was the most prestigious private club on the island. You needed a two-member invite. It was beautiful, but it was all walls. Closed off from the rest of the island. People came here, stayed at the club, and didn’t even see. The pools were not the ocean, and the cuisine was not Hogwarts cuisine. Remus wasn’t even sure his parents knew anymore, although he knew they had once. Early on. He didn’t know what had changed. You fall into a crowd, maybe.

He would get Julian out and about one day, when he was old enough. Remus himself spent his time on all parts of the island, in all neighborhoods—almost. He loved Helga more than anything, with its nicknacks and beautiful, dream-like creations.

Except The Hollow.

He’d never gone. Almost, once, on a dare from James when they were thirteen. There were nasty rumors. He’d only seen it from the sea, the deserted sands of Shack Beach and clusters of houses. And the rumors looked true enough. He knew James went sometimes, knew who he was friends with. The only reason he didn’t get shit for it at school was because everyone liked him too much. Remus thought they liked the fact that James could get away with it, too. James could get away with anything. He was a Potter.

Everything except me, Lily always said, and Remus smiled at the thought.

They’d all be out of here in a year anyway. At least for a while. College was like a promise-land. Remus was so sick of this island, but not the ocean. He’d miss the ocean.

The Lupins had been on Hogwarts for nearly one hundred years—a short time, compared to the Evans and McKinnon families. An even shorter time compared to the Potters and Deveaux. One hundred year old new money? Remus thought it was a ridiculous statement but, compared to the other Godric families, they were new. It was relative. Relative money. The Salazar families had been there even longer, Remus couldn’t quite remember their stories.

Remus couldn’t imagine how no one had wanted to go out and see the world. This island was his home. He loved its every shore and nook. But he…wanted. He wanted with the sea and the wind and his Wolfsbane with its twinning pontoons and white sails. It’s tiny below deck cabin that snugged in a bed for nights lulled by the waves. Nothing outside but water and the stars.

After dinner, Remus climbed up the tall, winding stairs to Bane Tower. It had been named by his great, great, great, grandfather, also named Lyall, like his father. A play on words. Lupin, wolf. Wolfsbane. Bane Tower. Sometimes Remus felt like he was just another word game. Remus and Julian. Raised by the wolves.

“It kept him sane, the stars,” Remus’ grandfather had always said. “Quite literally, I mean. Madness runs in our family, Remus. Who knows when it might pop up again. And they kept him almost sane, I should say.”

The stars kept Remus sane, too. They were a map on the ocean, and an escape on land. He didn’t have to think when he looked at them. Maybe that was what was dangerous about them. Hypnotic. Mirrored by the haphazard lights of The Hollow, right along Godric’s shore.

Remus’ grandfather had died of madness. That’s what they said. Remus had watched him go. He missed him.

It didn’t stop Bane Tower from being the perfect place to see the stars.

~

For Gods, the Potters were good people. Really, for anyone the Potters were good people. They were kind to Sirius, and payed him well. Mostly he looked after their boat, but he would also do chores around the house, run errands for this and that for Mrs. Potter.

It was how he had met James. Really met him. School didn’t count, Sirius had disappeared when he was eleven from his old life and that meant, what friends he might have had at Hogwarts Academy were no more. No one liked a run-away. No one really liked a Black.

The Potters weren’t prejudice. Did they have more money than Sirius could picture? Yes. But they were good. It was the only reason Sirius had even considered liking James again. And still, that didn’t mean he understood why James still hung out with him—them. James was the only one from Sirius’ old life who had decided to reconnect. It was strange. Sirius had nothing to offer him.

It had only gotten stranger when, about two years ago now, he’d brought Lily Evans, who had in turn brought Marlene McKinnon. The boys and the girls had been taught separately when Sirius had still be there, and so Lily and Marlene were vague memories for Sirius. Dorcas—homeschooled—and Marlene were gone for each other almost immediately, and Sirius had theories about Lily and James. None of them had ever brought anyone else, so, Sirius assumed, the rest of his old schoolmates had turned out to be the assholes he expected. Gods in their own territory, up on Olympus, reaping their spoils on the backs of others. Lacrosse playing, secret addicts to something, who drank too much, lived for the summer, and liked boobs more than themselves. Then again, James hung out with those people, too. It was hard to figure out.

But weren’t they all.

“Black!”

James, in all his leather boat shoes and pink swimsuit galore, was jogging up the dock to meet him. Sirius gave a nod, but kept sweeping last night’s rain from the decks, the morning sunshine hot on his neck.

“What’s up?” Sirius said.

“Throwing a party,” James said. “Thought maybe you and your crew would want to come.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “You’re inviting us to a party?” They were famous, Godric’s boisterous parties. Drugs, alcohol, swimming pools, and the ocean. The best mix.

James nodded. “That I am.”

Sirius laughed. “Pots, that place will be crawling with Gods.”

“I thought you liked that sort of thing.”

“Yeah,” Sirius said. “On our turf, where we aren’t so outnumbered that, when the police show up—because they always do—we’re the ones who get blamed just for existing. And for the Crucio that’ll be there—and don’t try to tell me someone won’t bring some.”

Crucio. Hogwart’s powdery nightmare.

“Fine,” James said. “We’ll make it one of yours, then. Your turf, you name the place.”

“Why?”

James grinned. “Maybe I like transcending boundaries.”

“Maybe Marlene wants to see Dorcas.”

“Maybe.”

Sirius straightened and leaned on his broom, looking at James squint at him in the bright sunlight reflecting off his glasses. He was wearing a navy Castle Lacrosse t-shirt that decidedly did not go with his shorts.

“Maybe,” Sirius said. “But it’s gotta be at Shack Beach.”

James whistled. “That’s pretty deep territory. You know Felix will make its rounds.”

Crucio was the island’s greatest gift, and its greatest curse. Some people called it Crucio, some called it Felix. The drug wasn’t very addictive chemically, but its effects were powerful. Sirius had heard that it allowed the user to hallucinate memories. Past, distant or near. It could keep people coming back for more, time and again, hoping to relive things—or desperate to see something different. Crucio wasn’t addicting, but memories definitely could be. Good thing Sirius didn’t value his past.

Sirius stuck to the name Crucio. It was torture to live like that, not luck.

Crucio meant a good and steady cash flow for the suppliers. Like Dorcas. Sirius and Saint basically lived off of her income—not that she could do much without answering for how she accumulated it. It was a strange gift, a tedious life, but Dorcas seemed to like it.

Sirius stared James down. “And if it does, no cops will show up to tell about it.”

“Deal,” James sighed. “You’re fucking hardcore, Black.”

“Sure,” Sirius said.

“Potter,” came a voice from the end of the dock.

They both looked and Sirius stiffened as soon as he did, feeling self-conscious clutching his broom. Remus Lupin and Luke Deveaux were standing there, aviators on and Castle Lacrosse tank tops. Luke’s flashy Jeep was waiting in the circle driveway of James’ house. It was Luke who had spoken. Remus stood a few steps back. With their sunglasses, Sirius couldn’t tell where they were looking.

“Let’s go,” Luke said simply.

Sirius turned away before they could, pushing rain water harshly into the sea.

“Yeah,” James said, voice softer this time. “Coming.”

Pity. Sirius could practically feel it.

“Ten tonight?” James said to Sirius. “Sound okay?”

“Okay,” Sirius said without turning around.

He felt the vibrations of James jogging back down the dock, but didn’t turn to watch the three Gods go.

[thebountyfucker]

Embo Relationship Alphabet

My take one the Embo Relationship NSFW Alphabet. (First done by@justanotherstarwarswhore) The format is from Din Djarin (SFW + NSFW 18+ Alphabet Combo) by ChicanaStardust

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex) Embo values his partners, and unlike some other bounty hunters, he prides himself in caring for them. He is aware in the importance of aftercare, especially after intense scenes, and is the first to initiate aftercare. He enjoys giving massages (though they can be unintentionally rough due to his incredible strength) and will even go as far as helping his partner to bathe if they request it.

B= Body part (What’s their favourite body part on themselves, and their partner?) Just as @justanotherstarwarswhore said, Embo is not vain. He sees himself as a functional whole, for a lack of a better description. He is a hunter, he is a warrior... as long as he can fulfill these duties, he doesn't much care about how he looks. He is neither vain nor insecure in his appearance, though he is aware that his more alien biology is not a turn-on for everyone. As for his partner, Embo, again, sees them as a whole person. He doesn't like breaking his partners down into 'favorite parts' because there is more to a partner than looks. He does have a certain fascination with breasts, only because Kyuzos don't have them. Doesn't mean he likes them better or more, he just finds them amusing.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically) Embo cums - a lot. He can orgasm over and over again, unlike humans. It's hot, and a bit sticky, and he produces more than many species. He doesn't have a favorite place to cum, but there is a certain pleasure in watching it leak out of a partner. (It tastes sweeter than human cum, but it has a bit of a metallic after-taste)

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?) & Dirty secret (self-explanatory) Eventually, yeah, probably. He grew up around kids and finds them delightful, so he'd probably want to have them at some point. He does intend to retire from hunting, but not soon. He considers himself at the top of his game and doesn't want to waste that opportunity. He is a neat-freak and a wonderful cook, though he tends to cook spicy, ethnically-Phatrongi food.

As for a dirty secret, I think he got around quite a bit when he was younger. Generally during his training days on Phatrong. Kyuzos, other than their weaker lungs, are incredibly hearty and rarely get sick. He didn't feel like he had to worry about STDs. When he left Phatrong, though, he slowed down a bit. He still sometimes sleeps with other bounty hunters. (What else are you going to do when you spend weeks on a ship alone?)

E = Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?) Going back to the previous point, I think he's quite experienced with pleasuring partners of any gender. Of course, he's most experienced with those that share his same biology. He's still learning about how to please other species, but that doesn't mean he's bad at it.

F = Fiancé (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?) Embo would be the type to settle down with a long-term lover or two, but I don't think he's the marrying type. He feels that marriage is kind of a scam and complicates otherwise fine relationships.

G = Goofy (are they the serious type or more humorous?) Embo is very serious - it comes with the job. He might try to quip or crack jokes, but they usually fall short because Kyuzan jokes don't make much sense to outsiders.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? Etc.) & Head (Giving and receiving) No hair, upstairs or downstairs. He doesn't mind hair on his partner. He also doesn't mind partners without hair. To him, hair is inconsequential. He likes giving and receiving head.

When he's in a situation where he can eat a partner out, he will gladly do so. (He's got quite the tongue, though his sharper teeth do pose a slight threat to the nethers. He's careful, though) He likes receiving enough that he won't ever turn it down, but it's not a required sexual act for him.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?) & Intimacy (How intimate are they during sex?) It would be rare to hear that from Embo. He's a bounty hunter, and despite how much he may care for a partner, he does need to keep a certain distance. Without doing so, it could put his partner in danger.

He's intimate, surprisingly! He's very worshipful and reverent, but good luck getting any emotional intimacy out of him (for the prior reason).

J = (Jealousy and Jack off/Handjob combo) Embo, jealous? No! Or at least that's what he'd say if a

partner asked. And, to an extent, it's true. However, if a partner were to flirt with, or be flirted with, one of his immediate rivals, he would likely be a bit upset. He masturbates sometimes, but not often.

K = Kisses that lead into kinks (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed? What are one or more of their kinks?) Kissing Embo is... difficult. Circumstances have to be exactly correct (there has to be oxygen enough for him and his partner to both breathe relatively comfortably, which is difficult to achieve). He likes it... it just doesn't happen often.

I agree with@justanotherstarwarswhore that Embo likely has a size kink. It's hard not to, given his height. Otherwise, Embo is what I like to call 'a sexual chameleon', meaning that he will engage in mostly any kinks that his partner requests. (Within limits, of course).

L = Location (Favorite place to do the do.) I'd say bedroom, bathroom, kitchen... anywhere in a private home, really.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?) & Motivation (What gets them going?) Embo is an early riser. Like... early. He'd get up, meditate, drink some tea, and probably do some tidying around his place before his partner ever wakes. When they do wake, he'd already have breakfast ready.

Clear communication is the thing the gets him going the most. But, he's also into a partner sitting on his lap and grinding against him.

N = No (something that is a turn off? ) He's up for almost anything, but I do think age play and scat/vomit play are off the table.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?) Good luck getting him to reveal anything about his personal life unprompted. He's rather closed off, though if one was to ask about his past, he might answer.

P = Pace (are they soft and sensual? Or are they rough and feral?) & PDA (are they open to displaying the relationship?) Both. He does as his partner desires, but his 'rough and feral' can be too much for many people. (Man's strong as hell! Without full cognizance of his strength, he can do serious damage.)

PDA is... very rare. Again, he is a hunter. He doesn't care as much about his public image as he does about his partner's safety.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?) Embo remembers a lot. He's more of a listener than a speaker, after all. Sometimes, he can bring things up that even his partners don't remember telling him.

R = Risks (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks?) It depends, really. Does he experiment? Most definitely. Will he partake in things that he's tried and doesn't care for? Depends on the partner. He partook in much riskier behaviors when he was younger.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?) Embo is very protective. His business is dangerous. His enemies, even more so. He would protect his partner with his life.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?) The Kyuzo don't celebrate anniversaries, so he wouldn't think anything of them. He would spoil his partners on dates, though, taking them to fancy restaurants and on expensive vacations.

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease.) He would like a bit of teasing, but he wouldn't say that it's the primary turn-on for him. He would also tease his partner a little, but nothing too extreme.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?) & Volume (Are they loud during sex?) Again, Embo is not vain. He doesn't care about how his body looks, but he does take pride in keeping his uniform/armor as clean as possible. (Obviously, he can't always keep it clean... but he tries). He's rather quiet, but he does hiss and growl sometimes.

W = Whole/wildcard (What's a random headcanon for the character?) Embo doesn't wear much clothes around his home.

X = Xtra & X-Ray (Random Headcanon/ What’s Underneath those clothes) Embo and his partners sometimes have ritual sex to appease his goddess. Embo's cock is quite large - it's longer than most humans', and thicker. There are nodes at the top of his cock which are adept at rubbing internal pleasure points (g-spot, a-spot, etc.) He also has internal balls.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?) In terms of how long he can go when sex has started? It's incredibly high. He can and has fucked for hours and hours without tiring. In terms of how often, I would say the higher-end of average.

Z = Zzzzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?) Embo sleeps very little and very lightly. It's biology and training at this point. He'll sleep for five hours at night, and then sometimes take a quick cat nap during the day.

[agent-cupcake]

Imagine having a child with a guy named Jimmy. Cursed.

OTHERWISE you all pretty much echoed what I was thinking, bless you.

cw pregnancy / forced pregnancy

(As ever, this is all in the context of dark personalities. I hesitate to say yandere, although that’s kind of become synonymous with dark personality AU’s and an obvious argument can be made that a darker take on the characters could lead into a yandere scenario) 

Ferdinand von Aegir

~While I don’t think he’d go out of his way to have a baby, he definitely wouldn’t take any steps to avoid it, either. That is, he wouldn’t really stray into breeding kink territory or anything of that kind but he’s not gonna pull out either. 

~But, yeah, if you were to get pregnant, Ferdinand wouldn’t be displeased by any means. He’d legitimately think it was the best way to “fix” things and out of a misguided attempt to ignore any negative aspects of the relationship and cling to the idealism of a happy marriage. 

~Just a side note, but I def see him with a body worship kink and I can only begin to imagine how that would intensify with his weakness for the softness and so-called beauty of motherhood. Whatever that’s supposed to mean.   

~Honestly, I don’t see him overtly leveraging  as a manipulation tactic. No, he’s good enough that his genuine feelings could do the job for him. Like, it’s not just you anymore. You’re responsible for another life so don’t you think you just trust him and let him take care of you? Oh, sure, he’d humor you (on account of the hormones) and say that he understands why you’re upset, but please just calm down. Everything will be all right, he’ll take care of you. 

~I think that Ferdinand would want a family even without the whole dark personality aspect. The way he’d see it is that children are a natural result of a union and love. He’d absolutely cherish your children if for no other reason than the fact that they’d be half you, although you can’t tell me that he wouldn’t have a horrible weakness for kids.  

~You’d be barely showing and he’d be picking out baby names and getting opinions on how to decorate the nursery and occasionally freaking out due to anticipation and nerves. He’d be really, disastrously, over-the-top protective, too. I just assume white magic would greatly lessen the infant and mother mortality rate but that doesn’t entirely remove the risk of complications so he’d be cloyingly careful about everything you ate, keeping tabs on any possible oddity going on with you. And, you know, I think he would enjoy emotionally taking care of you. Like if you were scared or sad or anything, I think he’d enjoy comforting you in a way that’s definitely not healthy. He’d enjoy being needed, I suppose.

~Yeah, so overall I view any sort of darker personality take on Ferdinand to be him, but with his sweet and noble and protective traits dialed up to an eleven without any sort of self awareness to make him pause and consider that maybe you don’t feel the same so having a child like this, as an intentional act of manipulation to make you stay or not, would be within the realm of possibilities.

Sylvain Jose Gautier (Bastard Man)

~Sylvain is pretty easy to imagine with a dark personality. I mean, assuming you have no pity in your heart and are willing to write him in a way that he never was able to get over his myriad issues, self hatred, severe distrust of people’s true intentions, and familial trauma.

~Assuming all that, and entertaining the idea that he could never find a good balance of repression and escapism, I think Sylvain would create an unhealthy emotional bond to a single person he believed to be exempt from his overall dismal regard for people and do this fun little thing where he’d chaotically flip flop between extreme emotions of distrust, blame, and anger and adoration, need, and a desperation to be seen as he was and still loved. 

~But it’d be a brutal cycle because he’s not the delusional type. Sometimes he could be, both with the good and the bad, but those would be kind of episodic. There’d be bad days where he’d be utterly convinced that you were just like the rest and he’d pick little fights and generally just be pretty pissy. But then sometimes he’d be blinded by love and so caught up in it that even if you told him no, he’d take it with a cheeky wink because of course you loved him and everything was so good. But, mostly, it’d just be a lot of dysfunction and Sylvain trying to lure you into a nice, good relationship with him by being mostly normal and decently charming and even, occasionally, being vulnerable (and tricking you into being vulnerable with him). 

~Anyway, back to the point. With all that context, why not bring a baby into the mix, right?    

~How many times does Sylvain bring up crest babies. Please, someone do a hard count and get back to me because damn son. So, may I just say, if anyone of these three were to have a breeding kink it’d be him. Is that controversial? Just think about it. Every girl ever wants him mystical crest cum, right? So, mentally, the whole thing would have a lot of weight and significance. Also Sylvain just strikes me as the type who’d be self aware enough of his dark and unhealthy needs that staking as intimate of a claim as that would be erotic. Unlike the other two, the act of forcing an irreversible and tangible change in your body and mind would be interesting. Not that he’d tell you any of that, or even dwell on it himself. 

~I’m torn between Sylvain saying it was an accident and him using the argument that since the two of you were in love, it was only natural that you’d start a family together. How could you not want to have his children? Better yet, how was he supposed to know that you wanted to wait. 

~But if you continued to be unreasonable, he’d go on the defensive. Like, what are you going to do? Leave him? For what? To raise his baby on your own? Or, worse, abandon your child? If you thought he’d voiced unfairly negative opinions about women before, the way he’d talk about a mother who abandoned her child and such a good, happy life with a loving husband would be infinitely worse. After all, he wanted to make a change in your relationship and be happy together. He wanted to be a good, loving father. He wanted a family with you. After everything, what kind of person would you be to throw that all away?

~So that’s... a lot. 

~But Sylvain’s the type to be awful in the moment then regret it after the heat dies down. Knowing he’d hurt you would genuinely tear him up inside. All of that adoration and desperation to keep you with him because he’d feel like he needed you to be happy would kick in and he’d break down under the guilt and tell you how much he loved you, how happy it made him to think that the two of you could have a family, that he knew you would be a great mother, that he knew he’d messed up but he would make it up to you, that you really could be a happy family. 

~Just saying, I can see him taking a perverse sort of pleasure in the physical effects of pregnancy. Also, he’d definitely be a lot softer with you. Guilty conscience, anyone?

Dimitri (Dimi) (Jimmy)

~You, dear anon, said it better than I could have myself. I agree SO HARD that Dimitri would be terrified of being a parent, but at the same time I think, if it were to happen, he’d be utterly enamored with the idea. There’s a lot more that I think about how he’d regard fatherhood, but that’s the gist. 

~Funny thing is, darker Dimitri is just like... More needy... unbearably protective... Paranoid... less stable... bad at managing his emotions when it comes to you... But, like, the same general emotions about fatherhood would apply because that’s already pretty complex. Only, this time, with an obvious emphasis on how it would effect you and your relationship. 

~I was going to say that I can’t see Dimitri purposefully impregnating you, but that’s not entirely true. In a fit where he’s feeling especially raw and paranoid, I think he would do it very purposefully and even almost-kinda-sorta relish in the idea. 

~I view his obsessive feelings to be like an itch he can’t quite scratch because he knows better than anybody how easy it would be to lose you and doesn’t know how to manage both his own instability with the unpredictable world because at any moment it could all spiral apart. 

~So, this in mind, he could believe that having a baby would make things different. More than just vows or words or rings or anything, it would be a concrete and absolute tie between the two of you. He would have an unquestionable claim over you that would go beyond the scope of just your relationship, you’d be carrying the royal heir which would give Dimitri even further valid excuses to be suffocatingly overprotective.

~It would be... So messy... On the one hand, I think the concept of fatherhood, of being given another chance, of being needed that much more by both you and the child, would really appeal to him. It could even sand off some of the rougher edges of his darker traits, now that he had this assured security in keeping you with him. Sure, the itch wouldn’t be scratched entirely, but it would be easier to ignore, there would be a solid way to reassure himself that you were his.   

~But Dimitri’s got this awful middle ground of self awareness. Anything that would come off delusion would be a result of his endless attempts at rationalizing his unhealthy feelings and trying to make sense of it all without having to actually confront the issues. But that wouldn’t mean he wouldn’t know, on some level, that what he was doing wasn’t healthy and how bad it was for you. The guilt would be intense, which would be apart of the reason he needed to keep you so close all the time because then he could pretend that you needed him just as badly, that everything was all right because he could take care of you better than anyone else. 

~Dimitri’s self aware guilt would allow a part of himself to understand that he should let you go. He could even, on the bad days, convince himself that maybe, one day, he would allow you to leave him because he loved you, because what he was doing was wrong. As long as you were near him, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself, he would always hurt you. 

~But using pregnancy to force you to stay with him would, perhaps even in an intentional subconscious way, cut off that last-ditch contingency to ease his own guilt and pain of what he was doing by keeping you with him. Now that you were going to be having his child, the royal heir, would mean that you could never leave. He’d know it. You would probably know it, too. 

~After that point, Dimitri would double down with proving his affection, proving that he was capable of taking care of you and his child and that you could be a family and everything would be okay. 

[hellishhin]

Since today is the last challenge day, Day 30 is all yours: Tell me something you wish I'd asked you, and didn't cross my mind! Rubber duck it out or simply talk as much or as little as you want about something from your wip or your wip in general! I'd really love to hear your thoughts😊

(You already know how much I love your three girls. And you've taught me so much lore about dnd?? I'm very very grateful. Your answers were always so rich and I loved reading them to the end, sometimes I was pulled right in that I even forgot it was my question that started the prompt)

Wishing you the best!

Ok so I had a whole post for this then my computer shut off and I lost it soooo take two! I am so sad underwing is ending but it's not like we are all disappearing. Let me tell you though, I have absolutely loved your questions and I have had so much fun diving into them! I needed to get back into the lore and you gave me the push I needed to do that <3

Gosh I have no freaking clue where to even start. You tell me to talk about anything but anything is a lot of things! lol! So I really think one of my favorite things is how Sadie interacts with the gods. There are so many different gods with different personalities and so many of them appreciate her for one reason or another. I'll just spoil this a bit, Sadie ended up literally in the heavens, standing in the middle of a table where the entire pantheon of deities were around the table all in their fifteen foot tall god-like forms. They had this meeting called because there were several gods vying to have Sadie bear their child and she had enough of being jumped by gods so she forced them all to a meeting and they surprisingly agreed.

She had most of the table trying to convince her to pick them to be the father of her child and you freaking BET that her husband was there and was absolutely ready to blow his freaking lid. It was one of the most fun RP scenarios we've ever done, my DM and I. Because of that meeting, Sadie eyed a few different gods and even after she chose one the others were still very interested in being next in line. I will say that this is how Sadie and Skolfi the Beastlord became close with her. But other than that, Sadie also has such a close relationship with Chaldira, aka Lady Luck.

Ok so there's just so much stuff and telling this one part is not going to spoil much. History timeeeee! When Sadie learns about this it is really profound for her but it won't be worse knowing the information beforehand gosh I can't even type fast enough I'm so excited.

So the Hin is the official racial name for a halfling. Halflings are a "nickname" given by the humans that stuck and became the common term for that race of small people. But the Hin used to be an entire nation all on their own. They used to have such rich customs and history and they used to live completely separate from humans. They even had their own pantheon of gods.

That was until the humans decided that they couldn't have another set of gods within their realm so they attacked the Hin and said worship our gods or die. There were so many brave small Hin who stood up for their deities but unfortunately it was not enough. The Hin had to bow to the humans and their gods. Years and years went by and the Hin ended up becoming halflings who were forced to worship the human gods to such an extent that their pantheon was fully forgotten. Their culture fully destroyed. I can say pretty much nobody even knows this piece of history. Sadie only learned it from the spirits of the halflings who had died a long time ago but research into it found it to be true. This upset her so so much that she made a pledge she would restore her gods to their former glory. She would tell the Hin of their culture, their history, and get them to return to what their people used to be.

Chaldira is halfling goddess who is actually in the human pantheon. This happened because Tolaar the Mad God did what he does best. He went mad and killed the human goddess of luck many years ago. This had him banished to Pandemonium, no longer a part of the pantheon anymore. In order to have her place and domain filled, Chaldira was put in her place and sort of switched pantheons. Then the humans made the Hin forget the other Hinnish gods and when they lose worshippers they lose power, nearly fading away. But they all managed to continue existing and now they are gaining power because Sadie is raising awareness.

Seeing what she is doing, Chaldira blesses Sadie with Fatespinner, her artifact of luck. It's an amazing staff for Sadie that gives her more magic, it protects her, and she continues to unlock powers for it as she proves herself to Chaldira and prove her loyalty to the Hinnish gods. But if she upsets Chaldira, like she already did once, Chaldira will take powers away. Currently the rod is at about half power from what it was because she cursed the gods and threw it away when she had to watch her soldiers die on the battlefield and nobody she called on would help.

But I digress. Chaldira and Maelel are like her goddess mothers. They both come to her when she desperately needs them and they help steer her in the right direction. Sometimes she doesn't like that direction though. Her husband convinces her to do less than great things and so she basically has a devil and an angel on her shoulder but it's more like a hot devil she married and two goddesses which you can imagine the kind of pressure that puts her under. It's always a stairway to heaven and a highway to hell because its so much easier and more fun to go to hell.

So anyway that was kind of rambly but I really wanted to talk about the Hinnish gods. They are all so sweet and lovely and the Hin deserve so much more than what the stupid fucking humans did to them. Also, in order to be successful at all Sadie literally has to overthrow the church because you can bet your ass they will persecute any Hin they catch worshipping the wrong pantheon.

By this point all I ask is that you hate the Imperial Church as much as Sadie and I do <3

[magaprima]

Okay, so I was going to do a list of all the moment where Lilith was soft and emotionally vulnerable etc, but the list was surprisingly long, so I’m having to divide them into basically sub-genres. 

So behold, all the moments Lilith shows pure softness. 

1. When she creates a secret book club for the girls of Baxter High. She had so many ways she could have solved this problem with Roz, including just compelling the school to allow the books to be read. But instead she creates a Book Club that she leads, allowing girls to have a safe place to go, and to read and grow and develop their minds, and despite Lilith claiming she’s doing it to tear their souls apart, she never does, and she just has these flashes of delight at all the girls around her. Lilith is in her element in leading women to enlightenment.

2. When she was thanked for the first time ever. The woman has clearly never been genuinely thanked for her work/actions in her entire existence, or at least not for thousands of years, and Sabrina genuinely thanking her for her help really seems to effect Lilith, it stuns her and we see she is emotionally effected by it. And I think it’s the first time we see her physically soften. 

3. When she helps Dezmelda tell her story. Lilith takes the girls there to make a point about corruption within High Priests, but when Dezmelda finds it hard to tell her story, Lilith instinctively reaches out to put her hand on Dezmelda’s knee supportively and helps her tell the tale. There’s a lot of falseness going on in this scene, but her interactions with Dezmelda seem entirely genuiine and they are very soft.  She may be using it to her advantage, but Lilith clearly has genuine solidarity with a witch chased out by an abusive man, choosing to live in the woods rather than submit.

4. When she admits they’ve all done unspeakable things to help the ones we love. There is something very genuine in this moment, she avoids Sabrina’s eye and doesn’t have the same manipulative expression she usually does when encouraging Sabrina to do something. There’s an honesty here, Lilith recounting what she has done for love, and though it might not seem a typical example, this is a very soft moment, because we’re seeing how Lilith can be motivated by love in regards to the Dark Lord, as much as by ambition. 

5. Attending Theo’s try-outs and being genuinely interested. So she ensures Theo is allowed to try-out as part of her determination to have no gender bias at Baxter High under her rule, but there is absolutely no reason for her to attend the try-outs. She’s not required there as Principal, she has no idea Sabrina is going to be there, and whether Theo gets on the team doesn’t effect her...and yet she goes, and we see her actively look for Theo, following where he is. Lilith got invested in a student’s life and that is so freaking soft. 

6. When she’s watching the passion play. Seeing her past played out on stage, even if with Blackwood’s biased re-write, has Lilith revisiting her own memories and she gets so very emotional about her. We see her entranced, remorseful, broken-hearted, upset, she is near to tears the entire time, and if that’s not softness I don’t know what is. We see here that despite everything, despite what she does, what she’s been through or how old she is, she has not been as completely hardened as she likes people to think. 

7. When she loves Adam’s gift. She was not expecting to like what he had, she probably expected something twee, and yet with a gift that was not only thoughtful but was something that appealed to Lilith’s rage, he wipes away all her murderous intent. She was planning to stab him with a knitting needle two minutes previously and then with this gift and this action, she’s suddenly going to him and smiling. It shows us how the smallest action of kindness has such an effect on Lilith. 

8. After Adam tells her he loves her for the first time. He openly says I love you, admittedly he believes he’s saying it to Mary, but the declaration alongside the kiss just makes Lilith utterly speechless. She’s thrown by it which is just so incredibly soft; how is it that an ancient witch, the mother of demons, future Queen of Hell can be so thrown by a simple declaration of love and a kiss?

9. When she dances with him. At first she’s reluctant and slow to accept what she has to do right now, but the more the song carries on, we see in the background as Lilith lets him twirl her nad even bobs with the music herself. She starts loosening up, but I think it’s partly because amongst the crowd she feels no one is seeing her. 

10. The foot rub. When Adam is giving her a foot rub after the dance, Lilith is so relaxed, she’s so comfortable and at home with him and it’s so starkly different to how she was when she first met him only a few hours ago. And she openly admits ‘a girl could get used to this’ which is a very telling thing to say and is probably why Stolas squawked so angrily. 

11. When she admits Adam 1.0 was cruel to her. We never hear her talk about Adam at all, or the Garden, but she genuinely shares here (it seems to be taken that it’s Adam in the Garden she talks about since she speaks of him in the past tense and she says he was only ever cruel, yet she tells Sabrina that Lucifer used to be kind), she feels safe enough to share, and she’s so broken and upset as she does, showing us just how much of an effect her experience in the Garden has had on her. 

12. Touch Starved. When she leans willingly and so eagerly into Adam’s touch, so she can feel his hand on her cheek. She leans and rests against it and just shows how much Lilith does long for intimacy and love and security. Something she probably had with the Dark Lord originally but hasn’t for centuries. This is where we see that Lilith not only can be soft, but she knows she is, when she admits it to herself.

13. When she initiates the kiss herself for the first time. This is the very time we see Lilith be the one to initiate the kiss, when Adam silently asks permission and she grants it. But the way she leans in, what it means for her to grant consent, how different it is to when she’s being sexual in order to trap someone (such as Hawthorne or the Pizza Boy) and we see that when Lilith is being genuine, she is very soft and gentle. Surprisingly so. 

14. When she realises she doesn’t want to lose him. This is a key post-kiss moment, when he has his eyes closed and she doesn't so we the audience see how she’s looking at him, how she’s studying him, and we see the dawn of realisation in her eyes that she does not want to lose him, and there’s that soft intimacy of their foreheads touching, the comfortable closeness of it. 

15. When she gives Adam the ring and he agrees to set a date. She’s so enthusiastic here. Yes, there’s a need to get that ring on his finger to protect him from the Dark Lord, but she’s genuinely eager to do it. We see her being so open here. Wide-eyed and open. 

16. When he agrees. When he says yes to the ring and they kiss, she is just so excited to keep him, she is biting her lip barely able to contain her delight and she is at one of her softest moments here. Adam is seeing a side of Lilith no one else has ever gotten to so far. 

17. Engaged. When she’s basically engaged now and she recognises this, she just looks so full on fucking happy. She’s utterly delighted and she’s looking at him with actual adoration and that’s so freaking, freaking soft. 

18. When she’s being all domestic with Adam. This quiet morning when she’s doing all her Principal admin work and he’s sat with her and there’s tea and jam bread. It’s just so softly domestic and shows how easily Lilith does slip into that. 

19. When she agrees to skip work and spend the day with him. Firstly, the fact she actually debates being able to skip work, and then when she does it’s while looking at how tempting she finds Adam, she wants to spend the day the with him

20. When she laughs at him for suggesting Tibet then realises he’s serious. This is just so sweet and cute but also shows how comfortable and relaxed she is with Adam, and also how much she thinks about his feelings, enough to feel bad when she laughs at him when he was being serious

21. When she says she’ll think about it. She agrees to genuinely debate giving up the throne and crown to go to Tibet to live a life with a mortal. If that isn’t soft I don’t know what is. 

22. The pebble wish. When she makes a fucking wish on a fucking pebble like a fucking princess and smiles while she fucking does it and then fucking launches it while leanign against Adam with his arm around her waste like the fucking Queen she is. Sotfness Squared. 

23. The look of love. When she studies Adam when he’s not looking like you do when you’re in love, where you watch them when they’re not watching you, and she seems to realise herself in this moment just how much she loves him. SOFT. 

24. Romantic Meal. If you forget for the moment that it’s really the Dark Lord, if this was really Adam, Lilith is being so domestic yet again having a meal with him, smiling, complimenting his cooking...

25. Agreeing to go to Tibet. If anything is soft it’s Lilith smiling while she officially decides to give up her claim to the throne and instead run away for a life with a mortal. 

26. The Widow. Despite the sadness attached to this scene, I still think it’s very soft that Lilith chooses to take Adam’s ring and put it on her wedding finger. She marries him in death essentially. She chooses to consider herself his widow. And despite the tragedy of that it is also very soft. 

27. Keeping the ring on. Even when she crowns herself, she’s wearing the ring still, the fact she doesn’t take it off even to meet the Dark Lord or to attend the coronation, ah, so very soft. 

28. The prayer. When she’s being prayed to, Lilith is so emotionally effected by that. She is so touched by the sound of a coven of witches praying to her, considering her to be worthy of worship and seeing her reaction here shows just how much Lilith needs to hear she’s worthy and how much that prayer meant to her

29. Looking after Lucy. Lilith is very instinctive here, she reaches out for Lucy so naturally and holds onto her so naturally and doesn’t even blink at the fact the girl holds onto her and does, in fact, hug her back, holding onto her. She only stops when she consciously realises she’s doing it. And then there’s the fact she erases the horrible things Lucy went through so she only remembers being rescued. 

30.Ambrose’s enthusiasm. She gets genuinely and quietly amused at Ambrose geeking out rather than being annoyed, and it shows a softness that she appreciates and accepts his excitement over being in Hell. 

31. Being sympathtic to Sabrina’s loss. When Sabrina breaks up with Nick, Lilith offers sympathy but it’s when Sabrina isn’t looking at her that we see her genuine softness as she remembers what it is to lose someone you love and how ‘Queens aren’t allowed to cry’

32. When she fully commits to ruling beside Sabrina. This moment is so brief, and it’s when Lilith has come to totally accept Sabrina as Queen, which is a big fucking deal for Lilith, and even bigger deal? She’s happy about it. She talks about she and Sabrina ruling side by side for eternity, a glorious eternity, and she doesn’t hide how happy she is about that, she lets Sabrina see her happiness. This is just showing not only that Lilith can adapt her ambitions, but when she works with someone, if she believes there’s equality and respect she’s happy. And that’s why it made the next moment such a betrayal to her. But that’s a different post I already made ages ago.  

[pensivetense]

A List Of (Mostly TMA) Fic Recs Sorted By Vibe

Not an exhaustive list by any means, just a few favourites that caught my fancy. I shortened many of the summaries for space.

I’m going to pin this here and update it as I go.

Also, I’m pensivetense on ao3

MELANCHOLY VIBES

for when you want to feel comfortably muted

(sad but not utterly bleak endings here)

Hope, Etc. (Dickenson, et al.) by yellow_caballero

Jonathan Sims, six months after the Unknowing, wakes to find himself without a daemon - without humanity, without a soul. It’s a cursed half-life, but existence as a shell without a heart isn’t so bad: between solving the mystery of a persistent illusion cast over his friends and some light pseudo-cannibalism, a life as a monster is better than no life at all. At least, it would be, if it wasn’t for the fucking Owl.

A freaking. Amazing. Daemon au. Ties the lore of Dust with TMA lore very satisfyingly, but is mostly about Jon navigating what it means to be human, or, in the absence of that, a person, and doesn’t require prior knowledge of His Dark Materials. Cannot recommend highly enough.

after one long season of waiting by nuinuijiaojiao

Annabelle is not used to having nice things. or, Annabelle heads to Upton House, muses a little, and gets some well-deserved rest

I love survivalist Annabelle and also the concept of the Web as kind of a horrible Patron, actually.

i love you. I want us both to eat well. by SmallishWormMasterOfTheUniverse

At the safehouse with Martin, Jon decides it's time to quit statements once and for all. The Eye disagrees. Martin just needs Jon to be okay. It's quite possible that nobody is going to get what they want.

Scottish Safehouse Era, Jon and Martin coping with their respective Entities... really, really good.

the friend by doomcountry

He always greets a new spider when he meets it. It’s instinct, born in childhood, the same way he instinctively counts magpies, or flicks salt over his left shoulder. A little harmless superstition. A bit of politesse.

A great Martin character study with eldritch spider horror included. The imagery regularly haunts me (in a good way).

autumn’s rare gift by bee_bro

Annually, the two meet, renewing the binding ritual where it had all started. The procedure simple: a waltz.

Singlehandedly made me ship Gertrude/Agnes so there’s that. It’s so bittersweet and bee_bro’s writing is, as always, incredibly poetic. (I’d recommend everything they write, actually.)

smile, you’re trending by Goodluckdetective

During an encounter with another Avatar of the Eye, Jon faces his past, Martin takes a turn at playing Kill Bill and Basira has a second look at the monster she’s determined to see. For three people associated with the Eye, they could all use some perspective.

Features an original Eye Avatar character who’s a YouTube personality; she is infuriating and inspired and genuinely frightening and I cannot say enough good things.

Humility by The_Lionheart

have you no idea that you're in deep?/i've dreamt about you nearly every night this week,/how many secrets can you keep?

An OC centric story but don’t let that put you off, it’s amazing. Very heavily focused around Jonah Magnus and the other Avatars as they change through the years. Also, I’d die for the OC.

oh, for one sweet second without the eye series by faedemon

Beholding does not like in the way humans do, but it likes its Archivist all the same.

I’m just so fond of the way this is done stylistically. I have a great weakness for dialogue only/dialogue heavy writing, not to mention all of the wonderful character beats and interplay of humanity/inhumanity for Jon and Melanie.

Rewind by WhyNotFly

It takes eight days of forced confinement for Jon to start hallucinating. [...] It’s Martin, though, that his exhausted brain conjures, because of course it’s Martin. After all this time, of course it’s Martin.

Jon willingly allows himself to be confined rather than hunting for statements, and examines his relationship with Martin.

for a firmament series by supaslim

There is beauty in destruction. There is art in becoming. In which Jon becomes the Archive, and the Archive becomes Jon.

Part two posted this morning and uhhh. Good. Also if you’re here for weird eldritch body horror (I am), this one’s for you.

ONES THAT JUST HURT

for when you want to feel sad

(somewhat bleaker endings here/everyone is NOT okay)

Feste by yellow_caballero

If asked, Martin would say that he became the shadow director of the Magnus Institute by accident. But nobody ever asked, and nobody ever cared, and it was in this way that Martin stopped lying to himself. Or: break free, Martin. All you have to lose are your chains. And your sanity.

Oh, this one totally didn’t go the way I expected it to. A study in isolation. Could go into the category above, as the ending is not bleak, but the tone of the whole is somewhat more depressing than most there.

Ghosts of Love by RavenXavier

Nothing made Martin more grounded in the world than yearning for Jonathan Sims.

Lonely!Martin that really captures a sort of visceral ache. Hurts me and yet I keep rereading.

i do desire (we may be better strangers) by godbewithyouihavedone

For ages, it only knew how to worship, taking human bodies and living off the fear of those who remembered. It never knew love until it became Jonathan Sims. Now it must fight against every instinct to save Martin Blackwood. Archivist Sasha, Not!Jon/Martin, and the worst kind of Fake Dating AU.

Oh, this one just made me sad. The poor not!them, which is something I never thought I’d say.

Apple Of Your Eye by fakeCRfan

In which the Eye is fond of Martin. Perhaps a little too fond for comfort.

Somehow manages to be both sweet and horrifying—the characterisation of the Eye is incredible. ‘The Eye loves Martin’ is a scenario that’s so utterly doomed to failure and yet the writing is packed with so much pathos that I just want them all to be happy. A fantastic use of themes of agency and choice, and the single best use of Beholding as a source of horror I’ve read.

The Last Press by copperbadge

Jon Sims is awake, and has begun preparations for the Rite of the Watcher's Crown. Peter Lukas, who woke him, would be content to rule at his side. Martin is very upset about all of this, and the Lukases aren't thrilled with it either.

I really can’t say anything without spoiling the end and it’s so good. An alternate take on the Watcher’s Crown. Not a pairing that I ever thought would work for me, but this made it work.

watch the blood evaporate by 75hearts

It starts, like so many things in Jon’s life have started, with a nagging itch of curiosity. Jonathan Sims uses his healing abilities throughout s4. Read the tags.

Dear God please read the tags. But this is some high quality pain if it’s for you.

the lighthouse series by low_fi

Peter Lukas is a lighthouse keeper. One evening, he gets a call from a cryptic overseer tasked with monitoring his work.

This is such a vivid and yet subtle story—from the setting to the emotions portrayed, it creeps up on you slowly. The ending was like the gentlest possible gut-punch. The sequel just completed, and yeah, just as wonderful. This one is very much LonelyEyes but I listed it here because it is just exquisitely painful.

SATISFYINGLY HOPEFUL VIBES

for when you want to feel cozy

Clutching Daffodils by Gemi

Martin has always liked the idea of love at first sight. It’s such a romantic idea, the whole thing of it. Seeing someone and instantly feeling that strange, twisting feeling deep inside that every single media likes to obsess over. Of knowing you are in love within the day, petals falling from your mouth and warmth filling your chest as love burrows deep, vines twisting through your lungs. He always liked the idea of it. And then Jonathan Sims starts working at the Magnus Institute.

Somehow manages to be lighter and fluffier than most hanahaki fare, despite the setting. I’ve reread this one a lot.

the least he could do by Prim_the_Amazing

Martin should in fact not pick this man, specifically because of how attracted he is to him. It would be the responsible thing to do. Except he’s already following him. And he’s hungry.

Fluffy vampire au which everyone’s probably already read, but was too good not to mention.

rather interesting by bee_bro

Jonah Magnus realizes that, for some reason, when he comes in contact with weed, Elias Bouchard's consciousness will come into his life banging pots and pans.

Oh boy. So these are all favourite fics but this one is a favourite amongst favourites. The way Jonah is characterised (i.e. incredibly sensitive to scrutiny) is my favourite depiction of him, and the slow-burn between him and Elias is far sweeter than it has any right to be. Also, it’s hilarious.

The Magnus Records series by ErinsWorks

In a world parallel to that of the Archives and the Institute, a supernatural sanctuary stands against a cruel and uncaring world: A world of bureaucracy and tyranny, of murder and carnage, of loneliness and surveillence, of plague and death. But in this world of fear and misery, 14 entities born of the hopes of the world have emerged. And one of them has made their home here, at The Magnus Sanctuary. Perhaps, the employees within may lead happier lives than their counterparts did in the Archives.

This is just so goddamn pure. The author writes a really imaginative, fleshed-out alternate world and alternate Entities with engaging, well-written short statements. All of the character voices are absolutely on point, and it’s overall absurdly hopeful without ever feeling overly saccharine. I love this series so much, you guys, you don’t even know. I want to print it out and paste it on my wall. I love it.

HARD APOCALYPSE

for when you want to feel dark and angsty (and eldritch)

Most of these are shorts/oneshots because it’s just that kind of genre, y’know?

Ashes to Ashes by marrowbones

A conversation at the end of the world.

Oliver Banks is one of those minor characters that I am overly attached to. Love him here.

Employee Benefits by equals_eleven_thirds

The Magnus Institute offered some normal employee benefits: a pension plan, holidays, travel subsidies, free lunch on the last Friday of each month. Rosie makes it work.

This manages to hit that perfect sweet spot of satisfying and hilarious. Rosie gets to torment Elias, as she well deserves.

a rose by any other name by Duck_Life

Part of Jon blooms in Jared Hopworth’s garden.

This one was sad and honestly too gentle to really belong in this category, but I love it.

Eye to Eye by Dribbledscribbles

In which Jonah Magnus attempts a post-apocalyptic pep talk.

Unreliable narrator at its finest, and the implications are suitably horrific.

commensalis by doomcountry

The tower is endlessly, impossibly tall, but Jon’s work is taller.

If you’re here for the eldritch imagery, then this has some of the best.

SOFT APOCALYPSE

for when you want to feel gently triumphant

apocalypse how series by sunshine_states

Humanity adjusts. The Entities have Regrets.

Some nice vignettes set in a kinder apocalypse.

ceylon series by Sciosa

The one in which Jonathan Sims decides that no, actually, he isn't going to let the world just end.

I include this only for the sake on completeness, as everyone has no doubt already read it.

rituals by doomcountry

Martin is the first person to knock on the Archivist's door since it arrived, fully, into its little waiting temple. The Archivist saw him coming from down the hall, but decides to feign interest when the knob turns, and Martin—still a little bit smaller, a little more translucent than before—stands uncertainly just outside the room.

This one’s a little less focused on the world at large and more on JonMartin specifically.

we raise it up by savrenim

Jonathan Sims reads a book and saves the world; although maybe the real salvation is the friends he makes along the way; (although perhaps the world itself and the darkness that exists behind it isn't quite as out to get everyone as it seems).

More ‘soft revolution’ than ‘soft apocalypse’, but has the same vibe. A time travel fix-it. Incomplete but worth it if this is a mood that appeals to you.

Scarred Ground by DictionaryWrites

“You see," Elias said softly, "people always have this idea that only living things can be scarred - and they're right, of course. But a building is a living thing, Martin. And the ground can be scarred, too." "I don't have any scars," Martin said. "Yes, you do," Elias said. "You just need the right light to see them.”

Falls somewhere between ‘Apocalypse’ and ‘Soft Apocalyse’ but I’m putting it here because I feel like it. Also technically a LonelyEyes fic. I found it hard to follow at first but it’s worth sticking with; things will eventually begin to make sense and come together.

LONELYEYES

for when you want to feel lonelyeyes

marrying anguish with one last wish by procrastinatingbookworm

In which Elias isn't Orpheus, and Peter isn't Eurydice, but Elias brings Peter home anyway.

Lives in my head rent free forever. My favourite lonelyeyes fic.

ouroboros by Wildehack

“You know,” Jonah says, a muscle in his calf quivering agreeably where it’s slung over Mordechai’s shoulder, “it’s really quite--fortunate--that I don’t care for you at all.”

Oh, this one hurts in the best possible way. The endless cycle of their relationship, the way it comes full-circle... yeah, good. Actually, no, this one might be my favourite. It’s a tie.

Breaking all the Rules by Thedupshadove

Elias proposes a somewhat...unusual wager.

Soft lonelyeyes? In my recs? It’s more likely than you think. Short, sweet, and... sweet.

Threefold by Sprinkledeath

Peter Lukas breaks three rules.

I’m just a slut for mythology allusions I guess.

Luck Be A Lady Tonight by prodigy

In 2014, Elias Bouchard takes a rare trip outside of his comfort zone. Peter Lukas wastes a bunch of money. You'd be surprised how many things can go wrong for two beings of cosmic power.

I love the sense of the history of them you get while reading this.

love is just a word (the idea seems absurd) by kaneklutz

"Something's wrong. It's stopped hurting" An avatar of the Lonely and an avatar of the Beholding walk into a bar relationship. It was bound to blow up in their faces.

Short, sweet, painful. Excellent exploration of their priorities.

Victor by penguistifical

elias tries something with his powers that he hasn't attempted before

The one where Elias tries to raise the dead. Not incredibly LonelyEyes centric but that’s still the pairing.

Simon Says by penguistifical

“Peter asked me to drop by and have a word with you, and, so, here I am.” Simon chuckles at Elias’s disbelieving stare. “Well, he asked in his own way. He’s not a complicated man, you know. He either comes from your arms looking like a stroked cat that’s been given a dish of cream or looking like he’s been in that toy boat of his out in an unexpected storm. He was far angrier than normal, so I daresay you weren’t cream today.”

I mean personally I’d just go ahead and rec all of penguistifical’s LonelyEyes fics but this is a standout for me.

AROMANTIC AND ASPEC MOODS

for when you want to feel Seen

The Aro Archives series by WhyNotFly

These are all just really really good. From Aro!Peter to two different aro-spec versions of the Scottish Safehouse to a long and beautiful aro hanahaki fic, this series is uniformly wonderful. The two Scottish Safehouse ones (Torn Edges and Murky Water) are my comfort fics.

and now all fear gives way by j_quadrifons

Before he can think it through, he murmurs, "Is that what it feels like? Being in love?" Martin's hand stills in his hair and Jon's stomach drops.

This one just. Wow yeah this is how it be. Another absolute comfort fic of mine.

Sweet As Roses by Prim_the_Amazing

Jon takes Martin by the shoulders, leans up on the tips of his toes, and kisses him.

I’m going to be honest—I didn’t know where to put this one. But it ended up here because the real standout of this fic for me is the portrayal of Sasha, and especially her portrayal as an aro character. So I’m putting it here. Mind the content warnings with this one!

HUMOUR

for when you want to feel delight

The Torment of Sebastian Skinner by Urbenmyth

After the Eye's victory, the statement givers are trapped in their horror stories, living them over and over again. Naturally, this works out better for some then for others.

Premise? Delightful. Execution? Fantastic. I read this one to cheer myself up when I’m sad.

Unlucky by VolxdoSioda

Jon’s dice betray him

Short, sweet DnD au, and the reason I cannot get DM!Elias out of my head now.

Voracious by beetl

A bird hits the window. Jon experiences The Flesh's thrall.

“Dead Dove: Do Not Eat” but make it literal.

The Stupid Endings by Urbenmyth

There are a lot of very deeply thought out and creative AUs on this site. These aren't among them. These ones are how the story could have ended, if Jonny Sims was a dumbass.

These are just uniformly hilarious, I cannot recommend them highly enough.

PODCAST CROSSOVERS

for when you want to make one of those “if I had a nickel for every time...” posts

The Sabbatical by morelikeassassin

Nicholas Waters is in need of an all-knowing eldritch entity beyond the confines of human imagining to help with his latest ritual. He'll have to settle for Jonathan Sims, who happens to have nothing better to do.

Crossover with Archive 81 (s3, specifically). Both fun and bittersweet.

The City And Its Sorrows by cuttooth

“What makes you think your friend is in Eskew?” David asks. He feels he can risk the scrutiny of the city that far. “I read that this is a place people end up when they get lost,” says the man. “This is a place people end up,” David agrees./The Archivist comes to Eskew.

Contemplative piece, and I love the way it presents David’s relationship with Eskew, the way he finds it horrible and hates it and yet belongs to it, is almost proud in the way he shows to to Jon. Great little vignette of two people oppressed by eldritch powers, intersecting.

Hiatus by bibliocratic

My name is Jonathan Sims, and I am in Eskew. (Jon gets lost in a Spiral city. It is not as easy as escaping.)

This one is far more focused on Jon than David, and is honestly more Eskew-weird than Spiral-weird. In the best way. Told in Eskew episode style, and is very good.

Sweet Music by Shella688

Eskew has a music to it, if you know how to listen. The percussion beat of thousands of footsteps, the melody in the squealing of the trains overhead. Today, the music of Eskew comes in the form of nine musicians, playing outside my office. My name is David Ward, and I am in Eskew.

Not TMA, but since a lot of Mechs fans go here—this one’s a Mechs/Eskew crossover. Short and simple, mostly David Ward centric, just a little well-written one shot I had to mention because I enjoyed it but it doesn’t have much traffic. Nice portrayal of the Mechs from an outsider’s perspective, and how genuinely strange and frightening they’d come across (especially if you’re already being haunted by and eldritch city). If you like Eskew-style storytelling, check it out!

NOT TMA

...but good enough that I physically cannot make a recs list without including them. Here!