#i was hoping to get to some real plot and politics this chapter but it MUST WAIT

[buckets-and-trees]

Red, White & True: Kansas to Tucson [10/17]

Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers x curvy Millennial Female!Reader Word Count: 6.5k Summary: The fallout from the interview with Oprah comes immediately, but with it is an unexpected attack that rocks you to your core.

Content/Warnings: discussion of women's health issues [notably pregnancy and abortion], deep fakes, political maneuvering, marriage of political convenience, slow burn

Notes: This takes place in a post-Endgame scenario where Steve stays and generally most of TFATWS happened.

ADDITIONAL NOTE: Please pay attention to the content/warnings for this chapter. Thematically, we're going to get into some discussion about family planning, and I do think and hope I've given it the care and respect I think it deserves, but KNOW YOURSELF and know whether or not you have the bandwidth to read this without judgment. That said, if you've read the story to this point - a tenth chapter - and been okay with what I've included politically, I don't think you'll be shocked or offended by the discussions had here.

Previous Chapter | Series ↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

[OCTOBER 12 - KANSAS CITY TO TUCSON]

The next morning, you are eating breakfast on the plane with Steve and Bucky in the private cabin on the Rogers campaign plane on the way to Tucson. You’re trying to hold off on being too tense or apprehensive, but a lot has already happened over social media while you slept. You’ve already done a lot of scrolling of your own and Jake and Lisa have already gone over the landscape of things so far with you and Steve and the core campaign staff.

The negative voices are loud. The hashtag #FakeFirstLady is trending on Twitter/X, along with countless memes mocking your relationship.

The headlines are brutal:

"ROGERS CAMPAIGN BUILT ON LIES: Captain America's Marriage a Sham"

"AMERICA'S GOLDEN BOY TARNISHED: Steve Rogers Admits to Political Marriage"

"CAPTAIN AMERICA OR CAPTAIN BETRAYAL”

But there are some people are praising the honesty, calling it a refreshing change from typical political marriages - and typical marriages, even, pointing out that a partnership built on shared values from the beginning over sparks or chemistry is a sensible and inspiring approach.

TikTok already has shops selling shirts and stickers that say “Blipped and Back,” people are clipping and posting their takes on parts of the interview, and BookTok is eating it up with many creators asking, “How long until we see the book based on this plot?”

You’ve been on BookTok, and so you know they’re speculating over more than that but aren’t surprised the sordid details weren’t included in the professional briefing.

You're trying to focus on your breakfast, but your mind keeps drifting to the swirling media storm.

You can't help but glance at your phone again, scrolling through the flood of notifications. The mix of support and vitriol is dizzying.

"You might want to put that away for a bit," Bucky suggests gently, noticing your furrowed brow. "It's not going to do you any good to keep reading all that right now."

Steve reaches over, taking your hand in his. "We knew this wasn't going to be easy," he says, his voice steady and reassuring. "But we're in this together, remember?"

You nod, squeezing his hand gratefully. "I know. It's just one thing to know it in theory and another to see it all playing out in real-time."

Just then, Jake enters the cabin, his face serious. "Sorry to interrupt, but we've got a situation developing."

Sophia, Lisa, and Sam enter swiftly right behind him.

Your stomach drops as you brace yourself for more bad news. "What is it?"

Jake grabs the remote from the side table and turns on the large flat-screen TV mounted on the cabin wall. The Fox News logo flashes across the screen as the sound comes to life.

"...and that's why this revelation about the Rogers' marriage is so troubling," a stern-faced commentator is saying. "It calls into question everything we thought we knew about Steve Rogers and his values."

Your heart races as you glance at Steve, whose jaw is clenched tight. Bucky leans forward, his eyes narrowed at the screen.

Another panelist, a woman with perfectly coiffed blonde hair, nods in agreement. "Absolutely, John. And let's not forget their non-answer about having children. When Oprah asked about their plans for a family, Mrs. Rogers was notably evasive." She refers to you as ‘Mrs. Rogers’ with so much sarcasm it’s mortifying.

The first commentator, John, picks things right back up. "Speaking of which, we may have an answer to whether or not Mrs. Rogers wants children from some information sent to us this morning."

Your heart stops as the first image fills the screen.

The woman continues, her voice dripping with sensationalism, "Our sources have provided us with some shocking photos that seem to show Mrs. Rogers entering a Planned Parenthood clinic from two years ago. And as you can see in these images, she appears to be visibly pregnant - probably five or six months along.”

The screen splits to show a second photo - the same woman, a slightly different angle - entering the clinic, and you don’t even know how to react because these images are such high quality you would believe they were real.

"According to our anonymous source," John jumps in eagerly, "Mrs. Rogers was there to terminate the pregnancy. If true, this raises serious questions about the Rogers' values and their fitness for the White House."

“We reached out to this Planned Parenthood clinic for comment, but they would only confirm that Mrs. Rogers had been a patient there.”

“That’s enough,” Steve nearly growls, and Jake mutes the screen.

The cabin falls silent, the tension palpable. You feel like you can't breathe, your mind reeling from the accusations being hurled at you on national television. Steve's hand tightens almost painfully around yours, but you don’t protest because you’re clutching it like a lifeline.

Jake turns to face the group, his expression grim. "I know we're all shocked by this, but we need to address it head-on. We've got to get ahead of this story before it spirals out of control. We've all read the opposition research file on you," he says, gesturing to the team. "There's no record of any pregnancy or abortion in your past, and I won’t judge you either way, but did you ev-"

“Wait a minute, Jake.”

It’s Sophia who takes a step forward, her voice sharp as she says, “She shouldn’t have to answer that question to us or anyone else, period. With the negative coverage that has reared its head since last night, the bulk of it is not being directed at Steve. The fire and the big guns are being directed straight at the woman in the situation - which is unsurprising, but ridiculously unfair.”

Your eyes burn and your throat aches as tears threaten to burst out of you, but you fight to keep them in. You’re gutted by what you’ve just seen on tv, angry at the reality Sophia has pointed out, but also moved by her fierce defense of you.

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself. "Sophia's right. I shouldn't have to answer that question. But I will, because I want there to be no doubt." You look each person in the eye as you continue, "I have never been pregnant. I have never had an abortion. Those photos are fake."

Steve's arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you close. "We need to shut this down immediately," he says, his voice tight with barely contained anger.

“There will be no shutting this down completely; it’s out there,” Jake counters, already typing furiously on his phone. "But we do have a press corps traveling with us who are going to want statements as soon as possible and I suggest we make them as soon as possible as it’s the most powerful option available to you to have any voice in the direction this narrative will go.”

Jake turns to you directly, and his voice softens. “Sophia was right to check me,” and at this he glances at your assistant. “I’m not going to step back, but I want to step right in line behind you and have you work directly with Lisa on what you want to say now that we’re stepping into this arena. You have a lot of power in this moment to direct the attention of this situation. And I think we all know this man,” he nods at Steve, “will back whatever you choose.”

You take a deep breath, trying to center yourself amidst the chaos swirling around you. The weight of the moment settles on your shoulders, but you feel Steve's steadying presence beside you and draw strength from it.

"Thank you, Jake," you say, your voice steadier than you feel. "And thank you, Sophia." You lock eyes with your assistant, conveying your gratitude for her fierce defense.

Turning to Lisa, you nod. "Let's draft a statement. I want to be clear and direct."

Lisa sits and pulls out her laptop, ready to take notes. "What key points do you want to hit?"

You consider for another moment, then begin, "First and foremost, I want to set the record straight. Those photos are fake - but rather than saying I’ve never had an abortion, I only want to say I’ve never been pregnant. A woman’s reproductive choices are her own, and I don’t want to elevate or disparage whether or not a woman has been or wants to be pregnant, nor whether or not she’s had or wanted to have an abortion. They’re all deeply personal choices and can change over the course of a woman’s life.

"Second, I want to confirm that I was indeed a patient at Planned Parenthood, as the report stated. But I want to use this as an opportunity to educate people about the wide range of essential health services they provide," you continue, your voice growing stronger as you speak.

“This is an excellent start,” Lisa affirms, her fingers flying across the keyboard of the laptop screen as she types. “We can tie into Steve’s healthcare plans with this, too,” Lisa says.

Twenty minutes later, you’re standing at the front of the press cabin, addressing the reporters, podcasters, and bloggers with Lisa and Steve standing just off to the side of you. After making your first point that you’ve never been pregnant and that any choice about whether or not to have children is deeply personal and can change over the course of time, you move into expanding on the value of Planned Parenthood clinics since you know they’re often misunderstood, misrepresented, and that they provide beneficial services some don’t even know about.

"When I was in college, working part-time and struggling to make ends meet, Planned Parenthood was there for me. They provided me with affordable, compassionate care when I needed it`."

You pause, glancing around the cabin before continuing. "I received my annual well-woman exams there, including pap smears and breast cancer screenings. They provided me with birth control and counseling on reproductive health. Planned Parenthood has been a crucial healthcare provider for me and millions of other women, especially those who are uninsured or underinsured.”

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of every word. "These clinics offer vital services beyond what many people realize - STI testing and treatment, prenatal care, and even primary care and mental health care services in some locations. They are often the only source of healthcare for many women in underserved communities."

A reporter raises her hand, and you nod for her to speak.

"Mrs. Rogers, how do you respond to critics who may say your support of Planned Parenthood conflicts with traditional family values?"

You meet her gaze steadily. "I believe that supporting women's health and reproductive rights is entirely consistent with family values. Healthy women build healthy families. Access to comprehensive healthcare, including family planning services, empowers women to make the best choices for themselves and their families."

"As for the doctored images being circulated," you continue, your voice growing firmer, "they are a blatant attempt to mislead the American people and distract from the real issues at hand. This kind of dirty politics has no place in our democracy. We should be focusing on healthcare reform, economic policies, education, climate change, and how we can build a stronger country.”

As you finish your statement, a flurry of hands shoot up, reporters eager to ask follow-up questions. You field a few more, your responses growing more confident with each answer. The cabin buzzes with the rapid-fire clicks of laptop keys and the occasional flash of a camera.

After about ten minutes, Lisa steps forward, gently touching your elbow. "Thank you all for your time," she addresses the press corps. "We'll be releasing a full statement shortly with additional details."

As you turn to leave, you catch sight of a young woman in the back, her press badge identifying her as a reporter for a small Midwestern paper. She's not raising her hand or shouting questions like the others, but there's an intensity in her gaze that catches your attention. You make a mental note to speak with her later, sensing there might be a story there.

Steve's hand finds the small of your back, following you back to the staff area of the plane, and the buzz of excited chatter from the press corps fades behind you as the door closes.

Back in the relative quiet of the staff cabin, you let out a long breath, feeling the adrenaline slowly ebb away. This cabin, usually a hive of activity, seems almost serene now as some of the staff move around, working on the transcript of your press statement and the questions you fielded, jumping on social media, preparing for the events you’re all headed to once you hit the ground in Tucson.

“You did well,” Jake says.

You glance at Jake, grateful for the praise but still feeling the weight of the situation. "Thanks, but this is far from over, isn't it?"

Jake shakes his head. "You’re right. But you've given us a solid foundation to build on. Your statements were clear, compassionate, and hit all the right notes. We can work with this."

Steve, who's been uncharacteristically quiet, finally speaks up. "I'm proud of you," he says, his voice low and intense. "You handled that with grace and strength. But I can't help feeling responsible for putting you in this position."

You turn to him, seeing the guilt etched on his face. "Steve, we're in this together, remember? We knew there would be challenges. This is just... a bigger one than we anticipated."

Bucky, who's been watching the whole scene unfold, chimes in. He hesitates for a moment before speaking. "I was just thinking this might be an opportunity to do more than just defend ourselves. We could use this to push the conversation forward."

Jake nods thoughtfully. "Bucky’s right. It’s like I said earlier, we've got the nation's attention right now. What do you want to do with it?"

You consider for a moment, then turn to Lisa. "Can we set up a series of interviews and speaking engagements focused on women’s health and the lack of comprehensive knowledge and education? The US has one of the worst - if not the worst - maternal mortality rate among developed nations in the world, if I’m remembering correctly.”

You turn to Sophia. “You’ve been mentioning that I should be thinking about one or two causes I want to truly champion if I were to be elected. Looks like I’m locking in on one for sure.”

Steve pulls you into a tight embrace. "You are incredible," he murmurs into your hair. "Thank you for being so strong."

You burrow into him for a moment. His praise and reassurance bolster you in the moment, but you feel the tightrope you’re walking on getting higher and higher. You can only hope you won’t fall.

Once you pull away from Steve's embrace, you notice his gaze shift over your shoulder. His brow furrows slightly, and you turn to follow his line of sight. In the corner of the cabin, Bucky and Jake have their heads close together, engaged in an intense, hushed conversation. Their expressions are grave, and Bucky's metal arm whirs softly as he gesticulates, emphasizing whatever point he's making.

Steve clears his throat. "Hey, you two," he calls out, his voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of concern. "What are you two strategizing?"

Bucky and Jake exchange a quick glance before Bucky straightens up, his steel-blue eyes meeting Steve's. "We were just discussing the photos," he says, his voice low and determined. "I want to see if I can track down the source."

The cabin seems to grow quieter, as Bucky continues. “Somebody doctored them, and they doctored them for a reason.”

Jake nods, his expression serious. "Bucky thinks he might be able to trace the origin of those photos. I’d like to know who we’re dealing with - they aren’t amateurs, and I doubt they’re officially on the campaign team of either of your opponents, but they have an agenda, and I want to get ahead of it."

"Is it even possible?” you ask. “And is it legal?"

Bucky's lips quirk into a small, wry smile. "I have some unique skills from my past that might come in handy. As for legal... well, I won’t cross any actual lines."

Steve looks conflicted, running a hand over his beard. "I don't know, Buck. We can't afford any more scandals right now."

"Which is exactly why we need to get ahead of this," Bucky argues. "If we can find out who's behind the root of this, we can potentially stop them before they escalate further."

Steve's jaw clenches as he mulls it over. "What exactly did you have in mind, Buck?"

"I've got some contacts from my previous line of work. They can trace the digital footprint of those images, maybe even identify the software used to create them. It's all above board, I promise."

You and Steve exchange a long look, a silent conversation passing between you. The weight of the decision hangs in the air, but after a moment, you both nod almost imperceptibly.

Steve turns back to Bucky, his voice low but resolute. "Alright, go ahead. But tread carefully. We're walking a fine line here."

Bucky's face is set with determination. "I'll be discreet."

Bucky pulls out his phone and steps into the private cabin to make some calls.

Steve steps across the cabin to where Sophia is conferring with Lisa, their heads bent over a tablet as they likely discuss the upcoming schedule adjustments.

“There’s a Fox News reporter on the plane in our press group right now, isn’t there?” Steve asks Lisa. “I want him out as soon as we land,” Steve declares, his anger dialed back, but still palpable.

“Yes,” Lisa confirms, “Ryan Jackson. But he’s been a reasonably fair advocate for coverage of your campaign up to this point, and he’s actually the one who tipped us off about this before it went live, said his producer gave him an advance about ten minutes before with the instructions to get a response from you.”

Steve's brow furrows as he processes this information. "He tipped us off? Why would he do that?"

Lisa shrugs. "Not everyone at Fox agrees with their editorial stance. Some journalists there are just reasonable conservatives who still believe in fair reporting."

You step closer, joining the conversation. "If he's willing to give us a heads up, he might be an valuable ally."

Steve looks at you, his expression softening slightly. "You're right. I let my anger rush my judgment." He turns back to Lisa. "Can you arrange a private conversation with Ryan once we land? I'd like to thank him personally for the warning."

Lisa nods, making a note on her tablet. "I'll set it up."

You take a seat next to Sophia so you can weigh in if they need you, and Steve crosses back over to talk to Jake. The initial flurry of activity in the campaign cabin has settled into a focused hum, with staff members working diligently at their laptops or speaking in hushed tones on their phones. The plane's engines provide a steady background noise, a constant reminder of your journey towards Tucson and the challenges that awaits, and you try and steel yourself for what’s coming.

[OCTOBER 12 - TUCSON, ARIZONA]

You’ve often felt like days on the campaign trail are equal to three or four days of real life, but by the time you get to the hotel that night, you feel like you’ve lived a full week in this day from hell. The fake photos, the impromptu press conference, the endless strategizing throughout the day in pockets between the campaign events that had already been scheduled, and more interaction with the press corps - and public - as the day unfolded all blend together in an exhausting blur.

Two notable developments changed the trajectory of the day, as well. Once you hit the afternoon and had been asked some of the same judgmental questions - that would never have been asked to a man - you had shot back with your disappointment that once again, double standards were at play. “Beyond fake photos,” you had said, “this is just another display of how women in politics are treated, especially when they dare to challenge the status quo. Shots are fired at women because we’re not given equal footing with men - we’re viewed as expendable targets in a continual hunting season."

That had rattled a lot of cages and been received as a battle cry, as well.

And around dinnertime, Bucky had come back with confirmed evidence that the doctored photos had been given to Fox News by the Coalition for Strengthening the Families of America Today* (CSFAT). He had not discovered yet who gave the photos to CSFAT, but their staff had bypassed checking their validity and wanted to get the word about you out immediately. And though the Coalition for Strengthening the Families of America Today hadn’t worked with their campaign staff at all, CSFAT - as it turned out - were huge contributors to the Republican candidate’s campaign.

Bucky was still working to find out who had created the images and given them to CSFAT.

But Lisa had worked used her superpowers to masterfully reveal Fox News’ source and suggest further commentary and investigation of the matter.

After that final briefing with the press, there had been a meeting to debrief the day and strategize for tomorrow, and then you had quickly and quietly snuck away as quickly as you possibly could and escaped to your room, desperate to get away from everyone and from the nightmare of the day.

But you had only dropped your phone onto the small coffee table in your room when there was a knock on your door.

You shut your eyes your shoulders slump. The last thing you want to do is answer that door.

But after another few moments of your reticence, whoever’s on the other side knocks again, and you know instinctively they’re not going away before they talk to you.

You drag yourself to the door, steeling yourself for another round of strategy or crisis management. But when you open it, you find Steve standing there, his broad shoulders filling the doorframe. His face is etched with concern, the worry lines around his eyes more pronounced than usual.

"Hey," he says softly, his blue eyes searching yours. "Can I come in?"

You nod, stepping aside to let him enter.

Steve moves into the room, his gaze taking in the untouched bed, your jacket tossed haphazardly over a chair, the room service menu lying unopened on the nightstand. He turns back to you, his expression softening.

"You haven't eaten, have you?"

You shake your head, suddenly realizing how hungry you are. "No, I… I guess I forgot."

Steve's brow furrows with even more concern. "Let me order something for you," he says, reaching for the room service menu.

"Steve, you don't have to—" you start to protest, but he cuts you off gently.

"I want to," he insists. "You need to eat. And... I thought maybe we could talk. If you're up for it."

You hesitate for a moment, then nod. "Okay," you agree softly.

“Why don’t you take a shower, and I’ll order us some dinner.”

You nod, grab your bag, and Steve is already picking up the phone as you step into the bathroom.

When you finally emerge from the bathroom, comfy in a pair of silk pajamas, you find Steve sitting in the armchair by the couch. He's shed his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves, looking more relaxed than he has all day. The room service cart is beside him, covered dishes waiting.

"Feel better?" he asks, a soft smile playing on his lips.

You nod, managing a small smile in return. "A little, yeah. Thanks."

You sink onto the couch, feeling the full weight of exhaustion from the day. Steve stands and moves to the cart. He passes you a set of utensils wrapped in a cloth napkin, a drink, which you set on the end table next to you, and then finally a plate of food that makes you gasp.

“How did you know?” you ask, smiling up at him.

“That it’s your favorite? I pay attention,” he answers simply.

Steve sits beside you with his own plate, close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from him.

The two of you eat and talk - though only a little bit, as it’s evident you were both incredibly hungry. But once you’re both done, plates are set aside, and Steve shifts, angling himself to face you better, and you do the same, tucking your legs up to be more comfortable.

"How are you holding up?" he asks softly.

You let out a long sigh. "Honestly? I'm not sure. It feels like we're in the eye of a hurricane, and I have no idea what's coming next."

He nods, understanding in his eyes. "I know. It's been one hell of a day."

Steve reaches for your hand, enveloping it in his much larger one. His touch is warm and comforting.

"You've been beyond incredible," he says, his voice low and earnest. "The way you handled everything today - the press conference, the interviews, the constant barrage of questions - it was nothing short of remarkable."

His thumb traces gentle circles on the back of your hand as he continues, and you look up into his blue eyes, which are locked on yours. "Your strength, your composure, your eloquence - it's been awe-inspiring. You didn't just weather the storm; you stood up to it and turned it into something powerful."

Steve's words, filled with such genuine admiration and unwavering support, begin to chip away at the walls you've built up throughout the day. The compassion in his eyes, the absolute confidence in his voice - it hits you like the sun, and it’s warm and powerful, but after the day you’ve had, wearing a brave face of poise and power that took more strength than you even thought you had, it’s too much.

Your breath hitches, and before you can stop it, a sob escapes your lips. Tears spring to your eyes, blurring your vision as they spill down your cheeks. Your shoulders shake as you try to hold back the flood, but it's no use. The weight of the day, the constant scrutiny, the vicious attacks - it all comes crashing down on you at once.

"I'm sorry," you choke out between sobs, "I didn't mean to-"

But Steve doesn't let you finish. He pulls you into his arms, cradling you against his broad chest. One of his hands moves to stroke your hair while the other rubs soothing circles on your back. "Shh," he murmurs, "You don't have to apologize. Let it out. I've got you."

And with those words, the floodgates truly open. You cry for what feels like hours, your tears soaking into Steve's shirt. Steve holds you through it all, his strong arms a protective barrier against the world.

As your tears begin to subside, replaced by hiccupping breaths, you realize this has been the hardest day of your life.

When you came back from the Blip to find Jeff had moved on, it had been devastating. But that pain was private, shared only with those closest to you. You could grieve in the safety of your own home, away from prying eyes and judgmental whispers. And you also weren't alone in the world - millions of others were going through the similar losses, a shared trauma that bonded you all together.

But this? This was different. This was a targeted attack, aimed squarely at you, broadcast to the entire world. Your name, your face, your most personal choices - real or fabricated - were splashed across every screen, dissected not only by the media but the millions and millions of people with access to the internet and had decided to commentate as well.

You pull back slightly, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. "I'm sorry," you say again, your voice hoarse. "I didn't mean to fall apart like that."

Steve gently cups your face, his thumbs brushing away the remaining tears. "You have nothing to apologize for. You're human," he corrects softly. "And you've been through hell today. You're allowed to break down."

You take a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. "I knew it would be hard, but I didn't expect this. The lies, the scrutiny, the judgment. It feels like the whole world is watching, waiting for mistakes."

Steve nods, his expression somber. "I know. And I'm sorry. I never wanted to put you through this."

You shake your head. "No, Steve. This isn't your fault. We're in this together, remember?"

He smiles softly at you. “And you’ve been so strong through everything - not just today, but every day since I met you.”

You feel a sudden rush of emotions, as if the floodgates have opened. The dam that held back your fears and insecurities has finally broken, and everything comes pouring out at once.

"I've been trying so hard to be strong," you whisper, your voice trembling. "To be the person you need me to be. The person America needs me to be. But sometimes, I feel like I'm barely treading water. Tonight, I feel like I’m drowning."

Steve's brow furrows in concern, but you continue before he can speak.

"You're Captain America, Steve. You're a hero, a legend. And I'm just... me. I worry constantly that I'm not good enough, that I'm going to let you down somehow."

Steve's arms tighten around you, and you feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your cheek. It's comforting, grounding you in the midst of your emotional storm.

“You could never disappoint me,” he says quietly, but with a fervent power that seeps into you. “You may not see it yet, but I see how people look at you. With such hope, such admiration, because you’re so real to them. I got a super soldier serum that changed my life. You showed up in your life every day and worked hard and built relationships - people see that and they resonate with that. They could do it, because you could - because you are.”

You take a deep, shuddering breath, Steve's words sinking in. The sincerity in his voice is palpable, and you find yourself clinging to it like a lifeline.

"I just... I don't want to let anyone down," you whisper, your voice barely audible. "Especially not you."

Steve pulls back slightly, his hands moving to cup your face. His blue eyes lock onto yours, intense and unwavering. "Listen to me," he says, his voice low and firm. "You could never let me down. Ever. You've already exceeded every expectation I could have had."

He pauses, his thumbs gently stroking your cheeks. "When we started this, I thought I was just getting a partner to help me navigate the political landscape. But you've become so much more than that. You're my rock, my compass. You keep me grounded when everything is moving a thousand miles an hour around us.”

You feel the tension in your shoulders start to ease, your breathing becoming steadier.

"You're not just keeping up," Steve continues, his voice soft but intense. "You're leading the way in so many aspects. The way you've handled yourself, the causes you've chosen to champion, the connections you've made with people - it's all been incredible to watch."

You take a shaky breath, feeling overwhelmed by his praise. "I'm just trying to do what's right," you murmur.

Steve smiles softly. "And that's exactly why you're perfect for this. Your moral compass, your compassion, your determination to make things better - that's what this country needs. That's what I need."

You surge close to him again, but this time wrapping your arms around his neck. He returns your embrace, his strong arms surround you completely, holding you firmly to him.

You stay in Steve's embrace for a long moment, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against yours. His warmth and strength envelop you, providing a sense of safety and comfort you didn't realize you desperately needed. For the last three years, you’ve done life on your own, and you’re strong and independent and more than capable. But to be held, and in being held have someone hold part of the emotional battle with you… you didn’t know how much you needed that.

When you finally pull back, you meet Steve's gaze. His blue eyes are filled with concern, but also with something else - a warmth and tenderness that makes your heart skip a beat.

"Thank you," you say softly. "For everything. For being here, for listening, for... for just being you."

Steve's lips curve into a gentle smile. "Always," he replies, his voice low and sincere. "We're in this together, remember?"

You nod, managing a small smile in return. "I do."

A comfortable silence falls between you, and you find yourself studying Steve's face. The worry lines around his eyes have softened, but you can still see the concern etched in his features. It strikes you how much he's been carrying too.

"Steve," you say softly, reaching out to touch his cheek. "How are you holding up through all of this?"

He lets out a long breath, leaning into your touch. "I'm alright," he says after a moment. "It's not easy, seeing you go through this. Knowing that my choices, my campaign, have put you in this position."

You shake your head. "We've been over this. It was my choice too."

"I know," he sighs. "But that doesn't make it any easier to watch. And then there's the constant pressure, the scrutiny. I do still wonder if I'm cut out for this. Fighting Thanos almost seems simpler in comparison."

You can't help but let out a small laugh at that, and Steve's lips quirk up in response.

"At least with Thanos, the enemy was clear," he continues. "Here, my opponents aren’t my enemies, but they have enemies attached to them - like we saw today.” He runs a hand over his beard, before he continues. "I've been in the public eye for a long time, but this is different. More personal. And I hate that today you're bearing the brunt of it."

You reach out, taking his hand in yours. "We're in this together, remember?" you echo his words back to him, squeezing his hand gently.

Steve smiles softly, squeezing your hand in return. "We are."

For a moment, you both sit quietly, the weight of the day settling around you but softer and lighter now that it’s shared between you. The room feels like a sanctuary, a quiet bubble away from the chaos of the campaign trail.

"You know," Steve says after a while, his voice thoughtful, "I've been thinking about what you said earlier. About feeling like you're drowning sometimes."

You look up at him, curious.

"I want you to know that it's okay to feel that way," he continues. "This isn't easy, and I want you to know that I see your strength, even when you don't."

His blue eyes lock onto yours, intense and sincere. "You've faced every challenge head-on and your support has sustained to me than you know on days when I’ve quietly doubted myself, too.”

The sincerity in his voice, the intensity of his gaze - it's almost overwhelming. You've spent so much time focusing on being strong for him, for the campaign, that you hadn't realized how much you needed to hear those words.

"Thank you," you say softly, your voice thick with emotion. "That means more than you know."

He smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "I meant every word."

Steve's hand reaches up, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. His touch lingers, and you find yourself leaning into it almost instinctively. And then you yawn.

He laughs softly. “Come on, it’s late. Let’s get you to bed,” he says, and stands, scooping you up in his arms bridal style. You hold on around his neck, resting your head against his shoulder for the short walk into the bedroom area of your small suite.

Steve carries you to the bed, his strong arms cradling you gently. He sets you down carefully on the plush mattress, the soft sheets cool against your skin.

With tender care, Steve pulls the covers up over you, tucking them snugly around your shoulders. His movements are slow and deliberate, as if he's savoring each moment. Your eyes are drooping closed, but you still notice the way the lamp on the bedside table casts a warm, golden glow across the room, softening the angles of Steve's face as he leans over you.

He brushes the hair from your forehead, his touch feather-light. Then, with infinite gentleness, he presses a soft kiss to your brow. His lips linger for a moment, warm and comforting against your skin. Then he places another soft but quick kiss to your cheek, and murmurs, “Goodnight,” as he pulls away.

“Mmm, stay?” you mumble in reply, reaching for him.

Steve hesitates for a moment, his fingers curling softly around yours. You can almost see the internal debate playing out behind his eyes. But then his expression softens, and he nods, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Alright," he says softly, "I'll stay."

You hear the soft thud of his shoes hitting the carpet, followed by the rustle of fabric as he removes his dress shirt and slacks, leaving him in only a simple white undershirt and his boxers.

He turns off the lamp next to you, then moves around to the other side of the room. The mattress dips slightly as he slips under the covers behind you. You can feel the warmth of his body immediately radiating through the thin fabric of your silk pajamas.

Steve's arm drapes over your waist, pulling you gently back against his chest. You can feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing, a soothing rhythm that begins to lull you towards sleep. The cotton of his undershirt is soft, the scent of him so comforting.

Outside, the distant hum of traffic and the occasional siren serve as a reminder of the world beyond this room, but here, in this moment, it all feels far away.

Steve's breathing evens out behind you, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm against your back. His arm is a comforting weight around your waist, his hand splayed protectively over your stomach. You can feel the calluses on his palm, testament to years of fighting and sacrifice, now a source of gentle comfort.

As you drift off to sleep in Steve’s arms, you know everything is far from fixed, but the chaos of the day fades enough, replaced at least for the night by a sense of peace and security you haven't felt in a long, long time.

next part: TUCSON

Thoughts? Feelings?

thank you @stargazingfangirl18 for helping me to work out some of this chapter - you know what you said/did 😎

I had said there were only going to be 12 chapters, but I think we might need to push it to 13, if there are no complaints...

*The "Coalition for Strengthening the Families of America Today" is a name that I made up - or at least I tried to! I Googled just to make sure I didn't use the name of a group that already exists.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[leclercss]

Tainted Love, Part 2 (Charles Leclerc)

Part 1

Masterlist

plot: in an attempt to fix your marriage, you've reluctantly agreed into being in an open relationship with your husband. so far, it's only been your husband that has taken advantage of your recent arrangement until one night out you meet a man who makes you begin to question your marriage.

pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: (+18) mentions of smut, cheating and some swearing

authors note: thank you guys for the kind words on the first chapter. i'm hoping to make to make this around 7-10 parts depending on how my creativity is feeling. hope you enjoy the second part x

word count: 4.7k

Your Uber has arrived at the address that Charles sent you and the feeling is starting to become very real. The idea of spending the night with any man other than Lewis is taking up 40% of your thoughts. The remaining 60% of your thoughts are thinking about how it will feel for Charles to kiss you again and to feel his touch on your body once more.

"Thanks so much for the lift and so sorry for the change of address," you tell the Uber driver. You climb out of the car and make a mental note to yourself to leave him a tip for his troubles.

As you make your way towards the door of the building, your thoughts go back to Charles. Are you being ridiculous for coming here? Was he really that into you? Was it desperate for you to change your mind and text him after you'd previously turned him down? And who was the "we" that he mentioned? Was it just some sort of after party that he was having? Or did he want to spend time with only you?

You're beginning to spiral.

You take a deep breath before punching in the number to his flat and wait for him to answer.

"Hey, door's open. Take the lift to the eighth floor".

It's Charles. You take a deep breath as he buzzes you in and you head towards the lift. Punching in floor number 8, a shiver runs down your spine as the building suddenly feels freezing for a late June in evening in London.

You tell yourself not to get cold feet now. You wanted this. You made some grumpy Uber driver take you to another area of London for this. Your body wanted this.

You hear some music playing on the other side as you stand in front of Charles’ apartment door accompanied by some French being thrown around. You couldn't make out the entire conversation. You had learnt French growing up but it'd been a while since you used it. And you weren't used to a Monegasque accent. But you think you can make out something about "the married one". They were talking about you.

You hear one of the voices getting closer to the front door and a second or two later the door is opened. You look at the person standing in front of you. Your heart skips a beat for a moment as you realise he's even more attractive than he was in the club.

"Hi Charles," you say softly. You try to smile but you're pretty sure the nerves you're experiencing are plastered across your face.

"Hi, [Y/N]," he replies. He smiles back at you. "I'm glad you came.” He steps to the side to let you in his apartment. "Come in".

As you enter, the music and the French conversations you had heard earlier get louder. Was he having some sort of afters?

"I live with a couple of my friends. We just came back here for a few drinks," it's like he’s read your mind. "Come on, join us for a few drinks". You feel his hand on the small of your back and a shiver runs through your spine once more at his slightest touch.

He leads you into the living room and you're greeted with a couple of faces you vaguely remember from the club. "You remember Hugo and Ricciardo from earlier right?"

They both wave at you. "Erm, yeah. Course," you lie out of politeness.

"I don't usually live here," the lighter haired one tells you. You've no idea which one he is. You think he's the one that made a comment about your husband being a lucky man when Stephanie told the group you were married. "But I thought I'd crash in Joris' room since he went back to your friend's place," he continues.

Whitney. You'd be interrogating her in the morning for details.

You feel Charles' hand move sightly further down your back. "Come on, I'll get you a drink in the kitchen," he says as he leans down towards your ear. The hand that was on your lower back takes your hand in his. You look up, smiling at him softly.

He leads you into the kitchen were he lets go of your hand to have a look in the fridge for something to drink. "So we've mostly got beer. Not sure if you're into that?" Charles calls out as he rummages through the fridge. "Oh! Actually, we've got wine. Do you like wine?" He peers at you over his shoulder and you nod.

Despite all of the alcohol you've consumed tonight, being in Charles' presence again and the thrill of turning up at his apartment has sobered you up. You feel like you need a drink to calm your nerves.

"Wine is perfect".

Your eyes follow him as he goes to the cupboard to get you a glass before pouring you a generous measure. You take the opportunity to check him out. He was just above average height. A couple of inches taller than you. He was slender but you noticed the muscle definition beneath his shirt. He definitely looked after himself. Your eyes finally landed on his fingers which were dotted with a number of different rings. You missed those fingers on your body.

"It's rude to stare you know," Charles chuckles as he snaps you out of your daze. You hadn't realised he had made his way over to you, holding two glasses of wine. He places a glass into your hand, your fingers touching.

"Thank you".

You clink your glasses together before uttering a "Cheers/Santé". You take a quick sip of your drink as your eyes meet Charles' over the top of your glass. Once you've taken a sip, you place the glass down on the counter. Charles does the same before he takes a step closer to you. He reaches towards your shoulders to remove your handbag and places it on the counter behind you. He takes another step closer to you, his face a few centimetres away from yours. His breath lightly hitting your face.

"So, what made you change your mind?" he asks you, he's waiting to see how you react. You take another sip of your wine before you decide to answer his question, earning a chuckle from Charles.

"I decided that my night wasn't done," you reply as your eyes meet again. "We didn't get to finish our dance from earlier," a reference to your earlier text to Charles.

He grins at your response. "And you couldn't finish dancing at home?" You know he's referring to your husband. He doesn't have to say it for you to understand.

You tilt your head to the side slightly before responding, "I've danced at home before. Wanted to try something new."

"And am I that something new?"

The tension in the kitchen is building as Charles' face is closer to yours than before. "I'd like to think so," you utter. You haven't broken eye contact for a while now. And it's only a matter of seconds before you feel Charles' hands on you again. He moves a strand of hair away from your face before softly tucking it behind your ear. His hand then lowers to your cheek while the other finds its way to your side, just below your breast.

"Well I'm glad you're open to trying," his voice is so smooth it melts in your ears like butter. He's confident, like he's played this game before. "I'd definitely like to show you a few things".

The tingle that you felt in your underwear from before has returned. This time accompanied with some dampness. You notice Charles is still looking at you, as if he's waiting for you to make the first move this time.

The two sips of wine have helped boost your courage, God bless alcohol, and you lean in. Your lips meet and this time there's no hesitation as you move your lips against his. You arms find their way around his neck and you take no time in pushing your tongue into his mouth softly.

The kiss is passionate and the longer it goes on the closer your bodies become. He lightly pushes you against the counter top as the hand that's below your breast now lowers towards the bottom of your dress before he pushes it beneath the hem. His other hand now finds itself lightly wrapped around your neck. The dampness is continuing to grow in your underwear. Fuck, it's definitely been a while since you've felt this horny if you're starting to get this wet so quickly.

That feeling of horniness doesn't slow down as the hand that Charles has slipped under the hem of your dress makes its way further up towards your panties. He doesn't even need to ask you to open your legs, your body voluntarily does it for him.

Your hand fits its way to the back of his head and you grip onto his hair lightly as you feel his hand move across to your underwear. Your tongues still deep in one another's mouths until you let out a soft moan as you feel Charles' finger run over the outside of your panties, applying a little pressure as his fingers runs over your slit.

You can feel him smile triumphantly as he's still kissing you. "Someone's a little excited". His voice is laced with smugness. If it was anyone else it would be a turn off but with Charles it seems to spur you on even more.

He breaks the kiss as he moves his lips along along your jaw line. Your head tilts backwards as another moan escapes your lips. He moves his lips to just below your ear where he nibbles on your skin before making his way up to your ear.

"Were you thinking about me on the way here?" he asks but you're too into the feeling of him touching you down below that you don't answer. "I asked you a question". His voice is more commanding this time, causing you to open your eyes. He's already staring at you, waiting for you to respond.

You nod at him. Fuck, you hadn't felt this submissive to a guy since earlier in your relationship with Lewis. It's been so long since a guy had fucked you senseless that you didn't know how to respond.

"Were you thinking about what it would be like for me to touch you?" He's enjoying this, you're putty in his his hands and he's enjoying every second of it. You don't know how but you're even wetter than before.

But you don't want him to have all of the fun, so you reach out for the bulge that's growing in his pants and give it a squeeze. This time it's his mouth that the moan escapes from.

"I wanted to know what this felt like," you purr into his ear and you're pretty sure you feel him become harder in your hand.

"Where do you want to feel it?" He's trying to regain some sort of control and so he slips two fingers past your panties and into your folds as he begins to rub your clit.

You bit your lip as he try not to moan again but it's becoming harder not to. "In my hands and my mouth," your lip trembles as you answer his question. You're surprising yourself with how much you're enjoying this. For it being the first time you would sleep with someone other than your husband in over six years, you're pretty good at it. But it's the next four words that leave your mouth that surprise you the most, "and in my pussy".

You're not sure if the noice that leaves your mouth is a hiss or a moan as you feel Charles plunge the two fingers that have been rubbing your clit into your pussy. "Shit, Charles!" you gasp as you grip onto his shirt to stop your legs from going from beneath you. You can't look away from his eyes as he start to build some momentum with his fingers.

"Just like that?" he teases you. "You want me to touch you right here?” His thumb now finds its way to your clit. You manage a nod as you find yourself clawing at his chest.

"I want to hear you say it," his voice is getting deeper as the tension is building.

"Yes," you pant. "Just like that, Charles".

The two of you are so lost in the moment. You try to maintain eye contact with him but your eyes are attempting to shut from the pleasure you're feeling. Your vagina is practically throbbing in Charles' hands.

You have forgotten that Charles had other company until one of his friends (Hugo and Ricciardo is what you've been told but this is one with darker hair) innocently walks into the kitchen to grab another drink.

"Shit! Sorry!" he cries as he looks away from the sight of Charles' fingers deep inside you in their kitchen. "Thought you guys were just getting a drink".

You feel your cheeks turn red from embarrassment as you've been caught red handed. But Charles doesn't seem too phased. He's joking with his friend, telling him to "fuck off" in French (that part of French you definitely remember).

His friend says something about getting a beer but Charles is busy so he'll just grab one for Hugo and himself. You've been too embarrassed to engage in the conversation so you've spent the time fiddling with one of the buttons on Charles' shirt.

Once his friend (so that was Ricciardo) has left the kitchen, Charles lifts your chin up so you're looking into his eyes again. "Sorry about that, looks like we got a bit caught up in the moment," you're not sure how he can sound so sweet while he still has his fingers inside of you. "Why don't we got to my room? No chance of them walking in on us there."

"Yeah, sure".

You instantly miss the feeling of Charles' fingers inside of you as he pulls them out before fixing your dress. You each grab your glasses of wine as Charles takes your hand in his and leads you towards his bedroom. Thankfully you manage to avoid bumping into his friends so you don't have to look them in the eye after one of the just saw you being fingered by their friend.

Charles opens a door which you're assuming is his bedroom. As he's about turn the light on, you hear one of his friends call his name from the living room.

"What?" he calls out.

The response you can't quite make out but Charles let's out a little huff before handing you his glass of wine. "I'll just be a minute. Let me deal with these two quickly".

You give him a reassuring smile as he places a kiss on your forehead before going back down the hall. You take the opportunity to have a little look around his room. His room is dark due to the late night but the lights from the street softly filter into his room. You can see the outline of some pictures on his wall. A vintage Ferrari car, a print of the Monaco GP. He's clearly into motor sports. You walk towards the window and look towards the view of the City and Canary Wharf in the distance.

You've been too occupied by the view and having a nosey around Charles' room that you don't hear him come in until you feel his body lightly press against you from behind. You jump a little earning a laugh from Charles.

"Sorry for scaring you, the guys should leave us alone now," he tells you as he takes his glass of wine out of your hand. He takes a sip, eyes firmly on yours before taking your free hand in his.

"Have you been enjoying the view?" he asks you. You're sure he's talking about the view outside but he's hinting towards himself as well.

"Yeah, it's not bad," you say as you lick your lips. "That Monaco GP poster is pretty impressive". You both chuckle at your light teasing.

"Yeah? Well maybe one day I'll get to take you. We can watch it from one of my friends' places back home," he tells you. He places his glass of wine on the window sill so he can cup your face in his hands. His fingers are laced in your hair and he's staring at your lips like he's ready to kiss you again.

"I'd like that," you whisper. You too placing your glass of wine on the window sill before you place a hand on Charles' cheek, the other on his chest, running your fingers across the bare skin that peaks through his top buttons which he's left undone.

You inhale before leaning in to kiss him. This time the kiss is sweet, it feels so delicate and intimate. Your touch is delicate too as you're both just enjoying the feeling of each other.

He gently pulls your bottom lip between his teeth before lightly kissing your lips. Your whole body is starting to tingle at the intimacy, something you've been missing for so long.

"I'm glad you came," his voice is barely a whisper. His hands start to roam the rest of your body. His touch is sexual but mostly intimate. He doesn't need to rip your clothes off, you're here now and he's going to take his time with pleasuring you.

"I'm glad I came too," you whisper. Your head tilting back as Charles' moves his kisses towards your jaw line, slowly down the side of your neck before making his way towards your throat.

"I want to feel your lips all over me," you tell him. You don't care if it sounds desperate because the anticipation growing inside of you is starting to become desperate.

Charles obeys your gentle order and makes his way down towards your collar bones, softly sucking and nibbling on your skin as his fingers make their way to the straps of your dress. He slowly pulls them down over your shoulders as he soothes your now bare skin with his fingers. A whimper leaves your lips.

He continues his movement downwards as he tugs at the material around your chest, lightly yanking it down to reveal your large breasts. He smiles to himself at the sight before him. "Where have you been hiding these?" he chuckles and you can't help but giggle as he starts to massage them.

He's clearly enjoying fondling your breasts but you want his lips on you again and so you place your hand on the back of his head so you can move it towards your body. He knows what you're looking for and so he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, soothing it as it starts to become swollen and sensitive in his mouth. He makes sure to pay attention to your other nipple, massaging it with his thumb.

Your fingers find its way into his hair as you lightly grab onto it. Your eyes shut and your lips are lightly parted from the pleasure.

After enjoying playing with your boobs, Charles can feel his jeans become tighter and more restricted and he's ready to up the intimacy.

"[Y/N], I want you to lie down on the bed," his voice is once again so soft and delicate. You nod as you pass him to get to the bed. You sit down on the edge before laying back, your dress still covering your lower half. You prop yourself up on your elbows so you can watch Charles as he kneels in front of you. He slowly begins to pull your dress down along with your underwear, leaving you completely naked. You feel a little vulnerable, you haven't been this exposed to another man for so long that you feel a little self conscious.

But Charles is giving you no reason to feel that way as he slides your heels off your feet before making his way back up to your legs. He places a hand behind one of your knees before throwing your leg over his shoulder, giving him better access to the area he wants the most.

His mouth is wet as he places sloppy kisses along your thighs before running a single finger between your slit. You're so wet it's almost embarrassing. Charles makes sure your eyes are connected with his before he leans in and places a long, slow lick along your slit.

"Oh fuck," you let out as you lightly grab the bed sheets.

"I've been waiting to taste you all night," you practically flinch at the hot air between your legs. "And it looks like you've been waiting for it too".

You nod, you can barely string a word together unless it's some profanity. He doesn't wait for an answer as he places another long, slow lick on your slit again. This time he doesn't stop to hear you moan. He pushes two of his fingers through your slit to open you up in a scissoring motion so he can get the access he needs before he starts licking your pussy.

"Ohh... Charles!"

As Charles' tongue continues to lap up your juices, the two fingers holding you open make their way further down as he pushes them inside you. His movement inside of you is slow at first, he wants to tease you for as long as possible. But your impatience wins as you lightly close your thighs around his head for him, signalling for him to speed up. Your pussy is practically throbbing for him.

He begins to lick and suck every part of you that he can reach with his mouth as the pace of his fingers picks up.

"Charles, fuck, just like that". You throw your head back in ecstasy, you can no longer maintain eye contact as your eyes shut so you can enjoy the sensation Charles is giving you down below. One of your hands grabs onto his hair as you basically shove his face into your vagina but he doesn't complain. It's easier access for him and he takes every opportunity to increase the amount of pleasure he's giving you.

"Do you like that, baby?" His voice is muffled against you.

"Yes! Oh god, yes!" You really sound desperate now but who could blame you? He's so good at this.

His pace is now relentless and you're not sure how much longer you can handle this before you end up squirting all over his face. The sounds leaving your mouth are now rolling into one long moan and your thighs are beginning to twitch around him.

"Fuck, if you keep it up like this I'm going to cum all over your face," you plead.

His eyes glisten as they look up at you. Satisfied with the mess he's creating in front of him. "I'd have no complaints," his voice vibrates against you once again but he's finished up with is assault on you. You're panting heavily.

As he uses his elbow to lift himself up, you notice that his lips and facial hair are drenched in your juices. He doesn't seem to mind though.

You hadn't noticed he was completely clothed still until he begins to unbutton his shirt, revealing his toned chest. You can't help yourself as you reach out and delicately run your fingers along his torso.

He stares down at you as he begins to take off his belt and jeans. He climbs back onto the bed and places his knees either side of your head as you instinctively reach out and begin to tug at the band of his boxers. Your hand wraps around his dick instantly, hard and fully erect.

Your movements are slow but with intent as you stare up at him and you're about to put him into your mouth but Charles has other ideas.

"No," he says with intent. "Tonight it's all about you". He shuffles back down the bed and places himself between your legs which are still open for him. He rubs his cock a few times before leaning over to place a wet, passionate kiss on your mouth.

You can taste your juices from before. They taste sweet and Charles is clearly enjoying his lips on yours again as he pushes his tongue into your mouth. Missing the feel of him, you join him in rubbing his shaft and continue to stroke him until he's ready.

Once he's ready to be inside of you, he leans back on his heels and rubs his throbbing cock between your folds a few times, causing you both to moan simultaneously.

"Charles, I want you inside of me," it's barely a whisper but you've spent so much of your night thinking about this moment that you can't wait any longer. He doesn't hesitate as he pushes himself inside of you. He lets out a soft moan as he feels you wrap around him.

His first few movements are slow, allowing you both to get used to each other before he starts to build up his pace. The only sounds you can hear is your skin slapping against each other along with your soft whimpers.

That soon changes as Charles' speed and rhythm picks up and he's soon fucking you with some momentum.

"Oh my god, Charles," you've said this so many times tonight but you don't care. Not when he's making you feel like this. He's fucking you harder now as if he's trying to fuck you into the bed. You grab onto any part of him that you can, clawing your nails into his back. You wrap your legs around his waist so he can be closer to you.

He brings you even closer together as he starts to kiss you again. It's sloppy and wet, the complete opposite to the intent of the movements he's making with his hips. You try to maintain the kiss but you're a moaning mess. You haven't been fucked like this in so long and it feels so good, it's almost euphoric.

"Charles, this feels so good," you cry as you hold his face in your hands. "Fuck, [Y/N], you feel so good". He's starting to sound desperate too.

He feels like he's losing his control as he can feel his core tighten with pleasure. He places his hand around your throat and continues to fuck you even harder into the mattress. You really hope his friends are still playing music in the living room as the cry you let out is animalistic.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! I'm so close," you cry and you wrap your legs around him even tighter. Holding onto him for dear life as his rhythm starts to become sloppy, he's getting closer too.

"Ah shit, [Y/N], I'm going to cum any minute".

His hand is still around your throat as he leans down to kiss you again. He wants his mouth on yours as you cum for him. And it only takes another thirty seconds before you're moaning into his mouth and reaching your orgasm.

Charles' moans are becoming louder and more frequent as his movements become even sloppier.

"Where do you want me to cum?" he asks you, panting heavily.

"On my chest".

It only takes him another five thrusts before he's pulling out of you and stroking himself above you. Your hand finds it's way to his cock once more to help him finish and soon his cum is landing on your boobs and chest.

He makes sure he's given you all he has before he collapses onto the bed beside you. You both lay there for a minute or two, trying to catch your breath. Your legs are still trembling slightly and you miss the feeling of him.

It's like he reads your mind as he pulls your body against his. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you onto his chest so he can place a kiss on your forehead.

"That was nice, huh?" You can't help but giggle at his accent.

"Are you laughing at me?" he cries out and you find yourself laughing even harder. You place your hand on his cheek as you look down at him.

"No, it's your accent. I love it," you tell him. "And that was amazing".

You lean down and place soft kiss on his lips. You lay there for a few minutes just placing soft kisses on each other. It feels romantic and as your lips move so intimately against his, you don't realise how this night will change everything.

[syndrossi]

Huh. Just had someone comment on ch9 that the "sudden" Crayne kidnapping plot felt over the top / like drama for drama's sake. I'd always thought that Crayne having his own agenda was fairly heavily foreshadowed, but maybe it's just because I'm the author and know what I'm planning.

Given how much the warlock/Volantis plot dominates Resonant, I advised them that if they weren't enjoying the plot after the next few chapters, the story probably isn't their cup of tea...

Now I'm curious: at the time you read ch1-8, what did you think Crayne was planning, if anything? Did you assume he was just being shady on behalf of his Green patron(s)? Did you think he was in cahoots with Allard? (ALLLLAAAARD!) I don't expect that anyone's first suspicion was "secretly working for a third party to kidnap the twins for an absurd payout," but maybe a few of you read him perfectly!

Did it feel like a big turning point in the story? I imagine for some people it felt like I'd spent the first eight chapters setting up for Blacks vs Greens intrigue, and suddenly there was a huge third party threat. I could see how a few people might feel a little disappointed not to have gotten the former.

Since this is turning into a mini dvd commentary, here were my authorial bits of foreshadowing:

Crayne being way more social than appropriate with the boys during their hunt with Rhea. A "normal" agent wouldn't need to get buddy-buddy with them. His job is to keep Otto informed about any notable developments. So gaining their trust was entirely Crayne's motivation, in the hopes of an easier kidnapping. (I also think he was curious about why someone would offer such exorbitant coin for two children.)

Crayne being a relative newcomer at the Gates of the Moon. He has far fewer ties to the place, no connection to Allard or the boys. Is Marten Crayne even his real name? Was there another Marten Crayne whose identity he assumed?

Crayne deciding to kill a knight and his squire just to keep the boys at the Gates of the Moon. Otto would have rather cut his losses, and had almost certainly instructed Crayne to play things safe. (I've said it before, but Otto truly does seem like the type to "play by the rules." There's no evidence that he ever stooped to the level of trying to have his political enemies killed. Instead, he prefers to outscheme them. Sneakily arranging to foster Daemon Targaryen's hidden bastards? Well within the rules! Arranging to have them murdered if those plans fell through? Beyond the pale, despite Jon suspecting otherwise.)

Crayne in general being so comfortable with wetwork / hiding bodies. That's a level of uncouth that I doubt Otto thought he was dealing with.

This isn't foreshadowing, but let's have a moment of appreciation for Crayne's canniness in using his position as "Otto's agent" to assert authority over Allard in times he would otherwise have been questioned.

The brief conversation the boys have with Crayne on their outing where he's their guard.

“You needn’t be so wary,” Crayne said later, as they turned back toward the Gates of the Moon. “My charge is to keep you safe, and I intend to do so.” “Because it benefits you,” Raymar said, the first he’d spoken. “Because you want something.” Crayne’s expression flickered before smoothing into a smile. “Who doesn’t?” That brief flash of something bothered Jon all the way back to the castle. Crayne had murdered a highborn knight without hesitation. He could have demanded the boys be returned to his care instead; Jon doubted Ser Thoren would have risked harm to them by refusing. Word could have been sent to the Greens to deal with the problem as they wished. Instead, Crayne had taken a great risk. Why?

[greenerteacups]

Hi GT. I hope this message finds you well. I am sending all the good vibes and we'll wishes your way! ♥️♥️♥️ I hope you've had a wonderful summer.

I'm such a big fan of your work. Lioneheart is amazing and has stuck with me for such a long time.

I was wondering if you had any other stories you'd like to explore one day (even if you never get the chance to write them.) Whether it be fanfiction or original work, I was just curious because sometimes I feel as if I have hundreds of stories inside that I could tell, and I am not sure how to pick just one and see it to completion.

First of all, thank you! This is a fun one. I have a few enduring ideas for longfics I may or may not ever write (i.e., ideas that would have been projects already if I didn't have an ongoing longfic). I don't get stuck in them mostly because I try to remind myself that the idealized story you imagine when a concept occurs to you will never actually exist as it does when it's unshackled by the constraints of execution. What you'll get if you actually sit down and hack it out is (1) a real and imperfect piece of writing, and (2) the satisfaction of having written it, which is by far the more reliable source of motivation, if we're being honest. That being said, here are some ideas I've always wanted to explore, if and when I finish Lionheart:

I've always wanted to write a longform canon-divergent Tomione fic about Tom Riddle's 7th year at Hogwarts. Big honking political melodrama ft. the original Knights of Walpurgis, a Triwizard Tournament, and realistically functioning time travel (hence why this one's always been kicked down my list of projects, because writing a time-travel plot is like running through a minefield made of trampolines). I've already got character concepts sketched out for the Hogwarts cast — sooooo many fun ideas for the teenage Walburga. But I'd still need about a week of solid fic preproduction on the plot alone before I was ready to boot up and start writing, and it'd take at least 250k words — closer to 300k, if I'm being honest about myself. So this probably won't see the light of day anytime remotely soon, if ever.

A canon-compliant Dramione war fic, diverging from the Malfoy Manor chapters in Book 7, picking up from a speculative thread I read once about what would happen if the war didn't end after Voldemort died at the Battle of Hogwarts. I've always thought it would be fascinating to see who Hermione and Draco would become if they were actual soldiers in the war (and my disappointment with how Book 7 handled the "war" of it all has been established). That being said, Book 7 of Lionheart will probably give me a lot of similar ideas to chew on, so I don't know what my appetite for this one will be once I'm finished with it.

Durmstrang AU. This one's barely a fic concept so much as it is a mental moodboard — I just want to worldbuild the hell out of Durmstrang. And the international wizarding world, generally. It's a delicious sandbox.

A longform canon-compliant fic or series of fics about the previous generation of Blacks (Sirius/Bellatrix/Narcissa, namely). If you look at the books, there's a huge amount we don't know about the fall of the Blacks. I always found it bizarre that the sisters and Sirius seem to be the only ones left by 1995. No one else has a claim? No one else from this all-powerful wizarding family wants to step in and claim this big honking townhouse in the middle of London? Or its attendant fortune? Dude, what happened? Also, we don't see nearly enough of the Black family melodrama in canon. They lose 4/5 children of a generation in the span of almost single decade. And then (presumably) all of their parents die in the span of another. Goddamn. Just imagine the character work you could do there.

A No Chosen One/Voldemort Wins (The First Time) AU where Hermione never gets her letter, and meets Draco much later in life as a self-taught witch. The dynamics I have in my head for this are really enjoyable, and it would be a chance to finally write Hermione POV, plus the Draco I've cooked up for this universe is [chefs kiss]. I also just love the idea of Hermione as a feral witch-child running around muggle London. I love it a lot.

[thefrogdalorian]

The Best of Both Worlds

Din Djarin x Female Reader Modern!AU

Summary: When a new Star Wars TV show called The Mandalorian premiered, you found yourself completely enamoured with the titular character. Enjoyment of watching the lone bounty hunter travel through the galaxy quickly turned to obsession. There was just something about the show that captured your imagination. Now, you spend much of your free time — when you're not working a fast-paced, minimum wage and incredibly stressful job at a prestigious London Museum— speaking to your online friends about your love for the show. There's just one thing... Despite how much you love The Mandalorian, no one knows the identity of the man behind the helmet... either in the show, or in real life. You only know him as Mando. No one has ever seen his face, no one knows his name.  Even after the countless hours of speculation from fans online, which even you have occasionally participated in, no one is any the wiser to the identity of the mysterious man who wears the shiny armour.  Surely, given the depth of your love for the show, you'd recognise if the man who you spend so much time obsessing over online was to ever cross paths with you. Right?

Content Warnings: Reader is AFAB, uses she/her pronouns and in her mid 20s. Age gap between her and Din is noted but not really central to the story. Grogu is human, hints of past trauma/child abuse before Din adopted him are mentioned but not described in detail. Some mature scenes later on in the fic but not explicit smut... because I just cannot write x reader smut! Author's Note: SO very excited to finally share this fic! Thank you to the lovely @suresnips for being my beta. I really appreciate you ♡ This baby was originally my NaNoWriMo 2023 project and was inspired by this post from @toxic-seduction that I saw one evening and couldn't stop thinking about! POVs will alternate chapter to chapter from Din to reader. It was fun to write that way! Set in London for a few reasons: partly because I love the movie Notting Hill and it has some of those vibes (if you squint), also, the village where Din lives is based on Elstree Studios just outside London, where the OT was filmed and ultimately because NO WAY was I writing a modern!AU set in the states, it would've been painfully obvious a Brit wrote it. While there are lots of references to places in London, I don't live there so it might not be truly accurate (Londoners don't come for me). Also, to be political for a sec, reader works at the British Museum and I hate that institution. This was actually the line of work I was interested in when I was at Uni but for many different reasons I did not pursue it. However, it works for the plot of this story and as you'll see, she doesn't exactly love it either and goes on a few rants. Just wanted to make that clear that her job there is not an endorsement of it or anything. I can't stand them or their historical apologist bs and I wish we would give back all the things we stole (including the Parthenon Marbles)! Finally, it was incredibly important to me that the actor behind Mando in this fic clearly be the fictional character of Din Djarin rather than the real person Pedro Pascal, because rpf is not my jam! I hope I did that pretty well but just wanted to warn that if you're expecting me to use Din as some kind of way to write a Pedro fic, this won't be for you! Okay, I'll shut up now! This fic is fully written, just needs editing so hopefully I'll get a couple of chapters up each week, but life happens. I'm very proud of this one and I really hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Also if you would like to be added to my taglist for this fic, please let me know! Happy reading ♡

❁ My Masterlist ❁ Read on AO3 ❁

Why Does It Always Rain On Me? [Reader POV]: After a dreadful day which saw you drenched by a rainstorm after leaving a hectic day at work, you reflect on your love for Mando and upcoming excitement for the sci-fi convention you will soon be attending with your internet best friend.

He Is My Only Priority [Din's Pov]: The character of The Mandalorian is known and loved by millions. But there is another, much softer side to the man who portrays him that Din Djarin is determined to keep hidden from the world, despite the challenges that presents for him and his beloved son, Grogu.

This Is Why (I Don't Leave The House) [Reader's POV]: Your internet bestie arrives in preparation for the Star Wars convention you will attend together. Everything is set for the greatest weekend of your life! Until you arrive at the con and find yourself overwhelmed by all the crowds and noise. At least you have numerous incredibly realistic Mando cosplays to distract you from how stressed you feel, and there's one in particular which is uncannily accurate...

Curiosity Killed The Cat [Din's POV]: Despite his reservations and against his better instincts, Din heads to a Star Wars convention that he was invited to. Although he fears that his cover will be blown, curiosity gets the best of Din and he can't resist attending a panel. But Din doesn't exactly find the answers he was looking for. Instead, he finds something far more precious. Something that he would never have expected...

He's So Tall (And Handsome As Hell) [Reader's POV]: Being back in the real world and returning to work after an incredible weekend at the convention where you had so many fun experiences is taking its toll on you. The thought of collapsing on your couch in front of The Mandalorian is the only thing keeping you going. However, the universe has other plans for you. News of an out-of-hours tour for a private client that you are asked to lead almost sends you over the edge, but when you finally meet the man, he is the opposite of what you were expecting. Weirdly, he seems familiar...

With A Little Help From My Friends [Din's POV]: Din returns to the set of The Mandalorian to begin filming a new season. Despite his experience and capability, he finds that he struggles to focus as his thoughts remain firmly fixed on a certain someone...

You're The Sunflower [Reader's POV]: Despite feeling certain that you'll never see the ridiculously handsome man you gave a tour of the museum to, a special delivery is about to change everything...

Your Face Hung Up High In The Gallery [Din's POV]: After a difficult few days of filming The Mandalorian, Din is excited to spend time with you as he finally takes you on your first proper date...

Have I Known You Twenty Seconds or Twenty Years? - (Reader's POV):  Despite a messy evening which led to you waking up in an opulent hotel which you have no memory of falling asleep in, memories of kind brown eyes and breathless kisses soon come flooding back to soothe your soul. Your relationship deepens as the two of you spending time together whenever your busy schedules allow. But one night, a turn of events causes you - despite Din's reassurances - to wonder if everything you have been working so hard to build together has just come crashing down around you...

There's A War Inside Of Me - [Din's POV]: The realities of the secret he is keeping from you begin to weigh heavily on Din's mind and he seeks advice from a certain curly haired co-star on what his next move should be. Things don't go exactly according to plan, not least because of the typically awful English weather...

It Could Be Love, We Could Be The Way Forward - [Reader's POV]: With your respective busy jobs keeping you and Din apart, a mystery date after a hectic day at work is exactly what you needed.

The Calm - [Din's POV]: When filming overruns and conspires to keep Din from the fun weekend he planned for you, he agonises over his decision. Fortunately, he manages to salvage the weekend, even after a calamity involving a rowboat...

The Storm - [Reader's POV]: The happiness you feel in response to a question Din posed to you is somewhat clouded by lingering doubts. Yet your affection for each other helps you to push those emotions down, until a weekend spent at his cottage changes everything...

P.S. - I tried to be inclusive for all body types and skin tones in this fic, but if I missed something, I do apologise. If you do spot something that takes you out of the fic, I am more than happy for constructive criticism as I wouldn't want anyone to be excluded on those grounds. I am always trying to do better and would love to know where I went wrong so I can improve and be more aware of these things going forward, so I would appreciate it if you could let me know if you do spot anything. Thank you so much! ♡

[mmogurl]

In The Shadow of Dragons Chapter 2: Forbidden Fruit

18+ | 3.1k | Daemon Targaryen X Female OC | possessive, protective, objectifying, simping, raunchy Daemon | Uncle / niece incest, Smut, Dragons, Political Intrigue, Plotting, Murder, lots of old timey concepts that don't make a lot of sense today, but are still kind of hot/fun.

The rest of Daemon's night once Ryna leaves. He also spends some time thinking back on the past. Continuing the story from Daemon's POV.

CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | CH 5 | CH 6 | CH 7 | CH 8 | CH 9 Also on AO3

Daemon drained the last remnants of his chalice, savoring every drop of the wine as it passed his lips. Then, he leaned against the edge of the parapet, allowing the refreshing caress of the night air to sooth his thoughts and quell his lingering passions.

He could still taste her on his lips.

His sweet little niece.

He chuckled softly at the idea that he’d gone from barely being able to speak to her, to the young princess practically begging him to take her maidenhead.

And he would…

But first, if he was to go up against Viserys, he’d have to tread carefully.

He would need to be the perfect, repentant uncle. His brother would have to see Ryna’s affections had curbed his rashness and impulsivity… at least in his eyes. The task at hand was indeed a daunting one, for Daemon would have to win over the King’s favor, which was no small feat.

With an exasperated sigh, he turned and began the journey back inside the castle, his mind consumed with ideas on how to gain his brother’s trust once more. The party was still in full swing when Daemon returned to the Great Hall, but he could tell immediately that tonight might not be the best time for conversation.

His elder brother sat alone in his chair, drinking deep of his wine. He was the King of Westeros, but he looked like nothing more than a drunk wallowing in his cups. Daemon felt an ache in his chest at the sight of what his proud brother had become. Had the Hightower bitch and her ilk brought the King so low in Daemon’s absence these past years?

He knew a simple word from him would have the King’s attention, but as he watched his brother raise the chalice to his lips and pour a generous measure of wine down his throat, he knew no real progress would be made this evening.

Perhaps in the morning with Viserys’ head clear of the effects of the drink, Daemon would be able to speak with him.

Just a moment…

A smile tugged at his lips as he realized that it would be much easier to handle his brother in the morning when his head was likely to be thrumming from the effects of the Arbor red.

Yes, that is precisely what I need.

Daemon glanced around, hoping to lay his eyes upon his little niece, but there was no trace of her among the masses. She’d likely already retired to her chambers for the night, a thought he realized was disappointing. He stepped up to one of the long tables and began preparing a plate of food, his appetite finally getting the better of him.

Once satisfied with his selection of meats, he walked over to the dais and sat down at the edge of the empty table, close to Viserys who sat aside it. Daemon refilled his cup from a carafe that was still nearly full and nodded politely to his brother.

“Finally tired of prowling the countryside for whores, brother?” Viserys bellowed with inebriated enthusiasm.

Perfect.

Daemon laughed gruffly as he chewed the cold meat he’d bitten off. “Not as of late. It grows tiresome having to entertain every desperate widow and wanton maid who seeks a night with the infamous ‘Rogue Prince.’” He took a long swig of his wine before continuing. “It seems that the reputation I’ve built for myself follows me, whether I desire it or not.”

Viserys let out a belly laugh that echoed through the Great Hall. “Don’t dont that you relish in such rumors. You’ve always loved the attention.” The King gave his own thigh a hearty pat, the wine had clearly taken its hold on him. “I admit, I have always enjoyed the tales of your exploits, brother. Especially the one about the two septas!”

“Ah yes, the beautiful and devout septas. I’m sure the Seven above must have heard every single prayer uttered within my chamber that night.” He’d almost forgotten about that particular night, but it wouldn’t help him in the slightest with his current conquest.

“But enough of that, we’re here to celebrate the birth of your grandson.” And my inevitable claim to your daughter. “How goes the realm in my absence, Brother?”

Viserys chuckled, raising his chalice up to his brother, but not before emptying its contents with a quick swig. “Ah, it’s the same as it always is. The great houses squabble amongst themselves like children… And my daughter continues to drive me to an early grave. I confess, I’m not sure what to do with her.”

“Which of my nieces is troubling you?” Daemon asked with the raise of his brow and smirked.

“Both of them,” Viserys groaned with frustration. “I hear nothing but contemptuous rumors about Rhaenyra and Ryna won’t even consider a suitor, always with some excuse about how all lords available are unworthy of her.”

Daemon had to hold back a scoff. She is not wrong.

Instead he hummed in agreement, playing the role of the dutiful brother flawlessly. “It is indeed a pity, dear brother. She has reached the age to marry and has had ample opportunity to choose a husband. As King, her union should be at your prompting, should it not?”

Viserys let out a sound that was something between a snort and a sigh, letting his annoyance show through. “Yes ‘should’ and ‘would’ are two different things, particularly when it comes to my daughter,” he said shaking his head. “Ryna is just as headstrong as her elder sister, even though she is more agreeable on the whole.”

Daemon nodded along as he finished his meal and set the plate aside, knowing only too well of Ryna’s fiery side. The way she had demanded he give up the throne on the battlements had been a stark reminder that she was no longer an entirely docile child. That boldness would prove useful to him though, especially with the plans he had in mind.

She’ll be a willful little wife. One I look forward to taming.

Viserys refilled his chalice and drowned in another helping of wine, his tone growing more somber as he continued. “Ryna is a good girl, but her head is in the clouds when it comes to marriage. I fear that she has an idealistic dream of the perfect match, a husband who will love her and shower her with affection.” He took another long drink. “Such men do not exist, at least not in the ranks of the eligible lords of the realm. But a certain kind of affection can often grow once wed.”

Daemon let a pointed laugh die against his closed lips. No man would cherish sweet little Ryna as much as I, brother. He tried to ignore the pang of jealousy when Viserys mentioned some faceless cunt of a lord touching the princess in any way.

“That does not surprise me. I’m sure my niece will have high hopes for any potential match,” Daemon said with a feigned indifference. “All young girls wish for such a perfect husband, but the princess must consider her duties to the realm.”

Viserys gave Daemon a queer look of surprise, as if he were not expecting his brother to be so reasonable on the subject. “You truly think so? Have all the women you have known desired such a union?” he snickered at the implication. “Don’t tell me you’ve suddenly become a romantic, after all of these years.”

Daemon leaned back in his chair nonchalantly. “Perhaps I have grown tired of bedding whores and have a desire to settle down in my old age…” He reached over for his chalice and took a slow, pensive sip, watching Viserys’ face change as he was clearly caught off guard by such a statement. “I had tried, but the Gods did not see fit to let my last lady-wife persist through childbirth.”

The King nodded mournfully, “Laena… I am sorry brother.” Viserys dragged his chair over to his brother slightly and gave Daemon’s leg a gentle, understanding pat.

“Yes, Laena…” he mused, not wishing to think on the past. “I did care for her. I tried, truly,” he said with a twinge of regret in his tone. “But I simply did not share a love for her like the great love you shared with Aemma. I never shall I suppose, but I still wish I could…” He trailed off, lost in his own thoughts for a moment before looking back to Viserys.

“Aemma was my favored wife, it’s true. I believe it is why I dote on Rhaenyra and Ryna so much. I still miss her terribly, but you cannot simply force a love like that, not with a lady you do not feel it for.” Viserys sighed knowingly before continuing, emotion obvious in his expression. “I was fortunate enough to find my love. Perhaps, even you will find yours one day, Daemon.”

Daemon struggled hard to suppress a smile at that last statement. Oh, I’ve found her already, dear brother. I’ll see that little princess of yours as my wife if it’s the last thing I do. Though that was not a conversation he wished to have tonight.

He feigned a sympathetic smile as he refilled his chalice with dark red wine from the carafe. “Perhaps… Only time will tell.”

The talk between brothers continued, consisting mostly of harmless banter. Daemon did his best to maintain the friendly demeanor, letting his brother babble on and on drunkenly as the hour grew late. With each passing hour, he could see Viserys’ body grow heavier with sleep and inebriation. Though the King continued to fight it, his eyelids grew heavier until he finally relented to the alcohol’s pull. With that he slowly sank back into the chair, his head slowly rolling sideways.

Daemon sniggered as the Hightower bitch shuffled up to the high table, attempting to correct the drunken image he was portraying to his subjects. She snapped for the guards to help her escort the King out of the Great Hall and back to his chambers. Daemon nodded towards Alicent keeping the bare minimum of civility before turning his attention back to the celebration.

There were still a decent amount of guests lingering, laughing amongst themselves or drunkenly stumbling towards the exit. He stood and stretched like a cat, then made to leave the Hall.

He walked with a brisk pace back towards his rooms, trying to quell the anticipation he felt building in his chest. Ryna would be in her chambers now, likely having changed into some comfortable night shift. Daemon had a fondness for sleeping gowns; they were always made of a thin, light material that left nothing to the imagination.

Daemon shook his head trying to dismiss his growing excitement at the thought of all those pretty pale curves, begging to be claimed.

No, no. I must be patient.

He reached the door to his chamber and made quick work of the few latches that secured it. Once inside, he kicked the door shut and began to disrobe, pulling off his leather vest and then his doublet. He changed into a linen tunic, not bothering to fasten the ties, but simply letting the material hang loose. Daemon then laid down on the bed, folding his arms behind his head while he tried to relax into the soft mattress.

“You never once glanced my way.”

Ryna’s words rang in his head, his brow furrowing as he recalled the frenzied distress of her voice and the pain present in her eyes. He had done a good job of hiding his feelings it seemed, at least in recent years. When his little Ryna had still been a child, things had been simpler. Daemon never had to hide his care for the girl, for she reminded him of himself. A second child, always wanting for love and attention and always deprived of it. It was never a hassle to spoil her with gifts and trips whenever he had time to.

It wasn’t until he came back to King’s Landing after his victory in the Stepstones that he first started to notice his youngest niece in a different light. And there was something about his newfound attraction to her that both delighted and disgusted him.

She stood out from the crowd gathered in the Great Hall to witness his return and her blond and silver curls flowing down past her shoulders drew Daemon’s attention almost immediately. He did not even recognize her at first with those pouty, deep pink lips leading straight into a full bosom.

After Viserys accepted him back, he had waited for the right opportunity to approach her, but Rhaenyra had insisted on throwing herself at him every moment she was able. Which of course resulted in uncomfortable glances from both her father and goodmother as she tried to inject herself into a conversation where she did not belong.

But as Rhaenyra and Alicent walked off together and Viserys made conversation with his Hand, Daemon finally found the right moment to speak to her. He approached the young woman who had replaced his niece as she sat alone on a stone bench, nibbling away at a sweet cake. He felt like a stranger to someone once so dear to him and he regretted those four years he’d spent away from King’s Landing most in that moment.

Ryna acted as though not a day had passed and surprised him when she jumped up from her seat and embraced him as though she were still a child. There hadn’t been much in his life that he’d felt wicked for, but the arousal he felt shoot to his groin in that moment was one of them. He knew then he could not stain the memory of someone so pure with such debauched thoughts.

Daemon backed away, not even giving her the gift he had tucked away in his pocket, and he had stayed away from her since. It might have been cruel, for she had tried to approach him so many times after, but he thought it best that he keep his distance. She did not deserve a wolf such as him barking at her heels. He would deny himself this one indulgence.

As he stood beneath the heart tree thinking of what must never come to pass, Rhaenyra approached him once more. She was practically lusting after him, all but saying it out loud how much she desired him. It was then that he realized how similar they were. They were both vicious and willing to do almost anything to get what they wanted. Almost anything.

It dawned on him that perhaps he deserved Rhaenyra. That they deserved each other. And that it would be a means to return to the throne he’d been robbed of. And in that instant, he’d make a foolish mistake. He’d tell himself that what he felt for his first niece was good enough. It wasn’t about love after all, it was about gaining advantage. About producing heirs. She had the same Valyrian blood running through her veins, and she was just as dark as he. Not good and innocent as his precious little sweetling was.

And just as many have been wont to do when aggrieved, he had taken the bait. As she bat her lashes at him, flirting while proudly displaying the necklace he had once given her while she spoke of not wanting to be married off. She might as well have been begging him to marry her instead, but Viserys would never go for it and he knew it well. So he’d stolen her away from the castle at night, brought her out to see the sights, and ultimately ended up in the basement of a brothel with her.

Daemon hadn’t even been sure what his intentions were that night. Perhaps he wished to sully her maidenhood in an attempt to force Viserys’ hand into either self-sabotage or the desired marriage. Or perhaps he just wished to forget, to claim another girl instead of the one he wanted, but dare not touch. Even then, he could not go through with it. He could not even lose himself in Rhaenyra for that golden head of hair reminded him too much of his sweetling.

He had been foolish. He never should have reacted so poorly, but the truth of it was that he had no idea how to handle what he’d felt. Daemon should have simply used restraint in dealing with Ryna, but he’d never been good at resisting temptation. He wasn’t certain he had what it took to control his base desires in the face of such carnal enticements.

Perhaps in the end it had been best that he had run away from it all. He’d learned much about temperance from his marriage to Laena, even if his thoughts had always remained preoccupied with another. And in all those years he spent away, Ryna had grown into a true Valyrian woman, rivaling the beauty of all who came before her.

Earlier that very night, he’d become a few cups deep after hearing the chatter of several lords that had been vying for his sweetling’s hand. The sickening rumors that the King would be forcing her to wed brought him out to the battlements to sulk. But, when he saw her parade out in front of him, dressed in a beautiful blue gown with her hair glimmering in the moonlight, he decided he could no longer hold back. He must approach her, revisit the feeling that had kept him away for so long and see if it still made him feel like a disgusting cad.

He was more than overjoyed when it did not.

It might have been that enough time had passed and he no longer recalled her so vividly as the child she once was, or perhaps it was the thought of losing her forever to another man that finally allowed him to be free of his shame.

Then there was the very way Ryna had responded to him so eagerly. He supposed that alone was enough to chase away the doubts he’d been harboring. She was his and had always been his. His niece had been meant for him and him alone.

Daemon sighed heavily, thinking of the way her lips had felt against his. How flawless her porcelain skin was and how soft her thighs felt beneath his fingers. He could feel his cock growing rigid as he began to drift off, the wine finally doing him in. Read Chapter 3

[lanadelspray02]

HOLD ME ANYWAY: CHAPTER 5

paige x azzi

warning: none

enjoy :)

crossposted ao3 here

masterlist here

----------------------------

Paige tossed the ball against the wall of the common room for the fifth time in as many minutes, catching it one-handed without really thinking. The soft thud-thud-thud of it against the plaster filled the empty space, matching the restless pace of her brain.

Across the room, Nika and KK lounged dramatically on the worn couch, both pretending to be engrossed in a rerun of some reality show Paige wasn’t paying attention to.

“You’re brooding,” Nika said suddenly, not looking away from the TV. “It’s creepy.”

KK snorted. “She’s not even cute when she broods. She’s just annoying.”

Paige caught the ball and flipped them both off without enthusiasm. “Not brooding,” she muttered. “Just… thinking.”

Nika gave a long-suffering sigh, swinging her legs over the armrest. “About someone whose name rhymes with ‘baby’?”

KK howled with laughter, nearly kicking over her water bottle.

Paige rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it. Not that she could. It was written all over her face, and these two vultures had been circling since breakfast.

She let the ball drop into her lap and leaned her head back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling.

Azzi had pulled away. Not in a dramatic, obvious way — there were no slammed doors, no fights, no harsh words. Just… distance.

Paige felt it in every clipped conversation, every polite smile that didn’t reach Azzi’s eyes. And it drove her crazy.

Maybe she doesn’t want anything from me, she thought bitterly. Maybe I imagined the whole thing.

Except — she hadn’t. She remembered the way Azzi had smiled without thinking during practice. The way her eyes had softened for half a second before she realised it and pulled back.

Paige wasn’t imagining it. She was just the only idiot stubborn enough to still hope.

Nika threw a cushion at her head. “Whatever you’re plotting, stop. You look like you’re trying to summon a demon.”

KK cackled. “Or a girlfriend.”

Paige caught the cushion and chucked it back harder than necessary, grinning despite herself. “I’m not plotting anything,” she lied easily.

Inside, though, she made a quiet promise: I’m not giving up on her. Not yet.

If Azzi needed space, Paige would give it. But she wasn’t going anywhere.

-----------------------

The TV buzzed low in the background, some brightly coloured cartoon playing half-watched in the living room.

Ruby was perched on the floor, stacking plastic blocks with fierce concentration, her chubby fingers fumbling occasionally but determined to get it right.

Azzi sat slumped on the couch, hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands, sipping the same mug of tea her mom had handed her over an hour ago. It was cold now. She didn’t care.

Her phone sat face down on the cushion beside her, the silence of it somehow louder than the TV, louder than Ruby’s soft babbling.

Azzi caught herself glancing at it — again — and scowled.

It’s not like she usually texts you anyway, she told herself sharply. You’re not friends. Not really.

They hadn’t even had one real conversation. No deep midnight talks. No inside jokes. Just passing smiles. Dumb, harmless jokes. Stolen moments during practice.

That was it.

So why — why the hell — did it feel so much worse now that Paige wasn’t there, orbiting close, teasing her, pulling little smiles from her without trying?

Azzi scrubbed a hand over her face and sank deeper into the couch.

Ruby, sensing her mother’s distraction, turned and toddled over, holding out a block proudly.

Azzi smiled automatically, softening. “Good job, Roo,” she murmured, taking the block and setting it neatly on the tower.

Ruby beamed, dimples popping, before throwing herself dramatically into Azzi’s lap.

Azzi caught her easily, pressing a kiss to her curls, breathing her in.

This was enough. This — Ruby’s laughter, her tiny arms wrapping around her neck — this was the only thing that mattered.

Not Paige. Not the stupid fluttering feeling in her chest every time Paige smiled at her like she was something worth waiting for.

Azzi shook her head, tightening her arms around Ruby.

She had made a choice two years ago. She had built a life around it — one that didn’t have space for the kind of reckless, messy feelings Paige made her want to have.

And she was sticking to it. Even if — deep down — a small, stubborn part of her missed the sound of Paige’s laugh more than she could admit.

 ------------------------

The gym was already humming with noise when Paige jogged onto the court the next afternoon, sneakers squeaking against polished wood.

Nika and KK were throwing half-court shots for no reason other than pure chaos. Aaliyah and Ice were locked in an intense three-point contest.

Coach barked something about “warm-up drills first,” but nobody was really listening yet.

Paige dropped her bag by the bleachers, rolling her shoulders loose.

Today — she told herself — was about being normal. No heavy stares. No overthinking. Just practice.

She refused to hover around Azzi like some lovesick idiot. (Even if her eyes already knew exactly where Azzi was the second she walked into the gym.)

Azzi moved through warmups with mechanical precision — passes crisp, shots clean, footwork tight.

If you didn’t know her, you wouldn’t have noticed the tiny stiff set to her shoulders. Or the way she kept glancing around like she was bracing for impact.

Paige noticed. Of course she noticed.

But she kept her distance, shooting lazy threes from the wing with KK and Nika, laughing when KK sank one off the backboard and pretended it was pure skill.

She didn’t go near Azzi. Didn’t try to joke with her during drills. Didn’t throw any casual flirtations her way.

And if her chest ached a little every time Azzi looked her way and found her already looking somewhere else — well.

That was her problem.

--------------------------

Practice ran long, dragging toward sunset.

Sweaty and out of breath, players collapsed onto the bleachers for a water break.

Paige plopped down between Nika and KK, still laughing at something dumb.

Across the gym, Caroline and Ines settled next to Azzi.

At first, Azzi seemed tense — clutching her water bottle too tightly, shoulders hunched slightly inward.

But Ines, in her usual chaotic energy, started rattling off some wild story about nearly getting arrested for accidentally walking onto a closed-off beach during vacation.

“Wait, wait, they sent cops after you for sunbathing?” Caroline said, eyes wide, laughing so hard she almost spilled her water.

“Technically,” Ines said proudly, tossing a grape into her mouth, “it was trespassing. I’m very adventurous.”

Azzi smiled — a real one this time — small but undeniable.

Paige caught it from across the gym and felt her breath hitch.

God, she wanted to be the reason Azzi smiled like that.

She forced herself to look away, tipping her water bottle back.

 ------------------------

Ines, still riding the energy wave, turned to Azzi with a grin. “You’re coming out with us after the game Saturday, right?”

Azzi blinked. “Out where?”

“Ted’s,” Caroline said easily, tossing her ponytail over one shoulder. “Best bad idea within walking distance.”

Azzi’s mouth pulled into a cautious line.

Caroline caught it and smiled gently. “No pressure. It’s just drinks, bad karaoke, and questionable life choices.”

Ines leaned in like she was sharing a sacred secret. “First rule of Ted’s: no ‘just one drink’ promises. You walk in sober, you leave singing into your shoe.”

Azzi let out a soft, genuine laugh.

Ines beamed like she’d won a prize.

Paige, watching from across the gym, felt it in her bones — the way Azzi’s walls shifted, cracked slightly open in the safe warmth of Caroline and Ines’ orbit.

 -----------------------

Azzi sat back against the bleachers, bottle balanced between her knees.

She should say no. She should go home to Ruby. Stay safe. Stay separate.

But the thought of sitting alone again — of closing herself off tighter — felt suddenly unbearable.

Caroline caught her gaze and said, with a shrug and a smile, “Just good people. No expectations.”

And Azzi found herself nodding.

Maybe.

Maybe it wouldn’t kill her to let herself have this — just a little.

Maybe.

 -----------------------------

Later, as they all filed out of the gym, Paige found herself walking near Azzi.

Not beside her. Not pushing. Just… there.

Azzi glanced at her once — a tiny flicker of something in her eyes — and gave her a small, soft nod.

Paige’s heart thudded so hard she almost stumbled.

It wasn’t a smile. It wasn’t a conversation.

But it was something.

And for now — for right now — it was enough.

 ------------------------

The front door creaked quietly as Azzi pushed it open, slipping into the dim warmth of home.

She barely got one foot over the threshold before a tiny hurricane launched itself at her.

“Mama!” Ruby squealed, bare feet thudding against the hardwood as she hurled herself into Azzi’s legs.

Azzi laughed, low and tired and full of love, scooping Ruby up into her arms.

Ruby’s curls were wild from a full day of play, her pajamas slightly askew, her bunny clutched tight in one chubby hand.

“You miss me, Roo?” Azzi whispered into her hair, breathing in the sweet, familiar smell of baby shampoo and vanilla lotion.

Ruby nodded fiercely, dimples flashing as she buried her face against Azzi’s hoodie.

Katie poked her head out from the kitchen, smiling gently. “She wouldn’t settle for bed yet. Figured you might want to handle bath time.”

Azzi smiled, heart tugging painfully. Of course they’d waited. They knew. They always knew.

From the living room, Tim’s voice floated lazily: “Tickle monster’s still on duty, too.”

Azzi kissed Ruby’s temple and set her down gently.

“You ready, Roo?” she said. “Bath time, then monster games?”

Ruby squealed in delighted agreement, her bunny dragging forgotten across the floor as she raced toward the bathroom.

Azzi shook her head fondly and followed — tired to her bones, but somehow lighter too.

 ---------------------------

Bathtime turned into a splash war.

Ruby shrieked with delight, water sloshing over the sides of the tub as she brandished her toy duck like a weapon.

Azzi surrendered dramatically, hands up, hoodie sleeves soaked. “You win!” Azzi cried, laughing.

Ruby giggled, dimples deep and shining, water dripping from her curls onto her nose.

Azzi’s heart ached at the sight — a sweet, painful kind of ache.

After the bath, wrapped in a towel too big for her, Ruby demanded “one more game,” which turned into a full chase around the living room, her bunny clutched under one arm like a football.

Azzi caught her eventually, spinning her in the air until Ruby’s giggles turned breathless.

Finally, worn out and limp with happiness, Ruby snuggled into Azzi’s chest on the couch, her thumb creeping into her mouth, bunny tucked against her cheek.

Azzi stroked Ruby’s curls gently, humming an old lullaby under her breath — the same one Katie used to sing when Azzi was small.

The house was quiet now. Safe. Full of things Azzi couldn’t afford to lose.

She closed her eyes, pressing a kiss into Ruby’s hair, whispering promises she wasn’t brave enough to say out loud.

You’ll always have me. Always.

She stayed like that long after Ruby fell asleep, holding her daughter close, letting the weight of the day seep out of her bones.

And telling herself — over and over — This is enough. It has to be.

[creedslove]

DESERVE IT - PART FOURTEEN

Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: Dinner goes wrong when Murphy can't control his anger over Javi's association with Los Pepes and uses you as a way to offend him. Javier isn't pleased and ends up taking out on you

Warnings: incorrect narcos plot, angst, hurt, offense, asshole!steve murphy, asshole!javier peña, mentions of break up, insinuations of cheating, smut, oral sex (f!receiving)

A/N: Hi besties, I hope you will like this chapter. I don't know how I feel about it, I liked some parts and hated other parts, but I feel it was necessary to the story and well asshole!javi is back, so enjoy!!! 🥺

• PART ONE TO THIRTEEN ON MY MASTERLIST

5k words

Olivia chewed her food slowly, her content face as she savored the mashed potatoes and well-cooked veggies and very so often shot you and Javi adorable little smiles. She was an adorable child, eating her own food which you also prepared, while the adults enjoyed their Italian and the bottles of wine.

You had already finished one with Connie before the boys arrived, so you really knew you should stop yourself right there. You definitely didn't want to wake up vomiting all your way to work, you were definitely not ready to have Javier holding your hair back while you emptied your stomach in front of him. You knew he would do it without complaining, just as you would do it for him if he ever needed it, but you got really embarrassed at the thought of it. It wasn't a very sexy image. You were also in no mood to face any pregnancy jokes, because it seemed women were only designed to have one condition which implied growing a child in their womb, especially at your work environment where it was dominated mostly by men and their narrow points of view or women like Colleen who would love to overhear a juicy gossip and spread it through the country even if it had no proof of it being real.

And the third reason was because death would probably be sweeter than facing a hangover in the Colombian heat.

So when Murphy offered you another glass, you politely declined, helping yourself to another slice of lasagna, hoping you could filter the alcohol in your blood by putting something in your stomach.

He shot a glance and raised the bottle at Javi who also shook his head, which you thought was odd. Javier Peña never refused a chance to get intoxicated in alcohol.

You went back to focusing on Connie's story, though Javier's hand was restless on your thigh. That wasn't common of him either. Of course he had the habit of touching you, but he usually just rested his hand on your skin, however, you could feel how he squeezed your thigh softly, you didn't mind it at all, but you knew him enough to tell it wasn't normal. There was something bothering him, but not only him, Steve was also bothered, angry even, as he very often made snarky remarks towards your boyfriend. It wasn't unusual for the two agents to have conflicts concerning work, both of them were stubborn as a mule and if they didn't agree on something, things could get bad between them, but at the same time, they always managed to leave their work beefs at work, so whatever happened must've really angered Steve.

Javi took a deep breath, side glancing at you as you ate. He was hoping you would be satisfied enough so he could come up with any excuse to go home, at the same time he didn't want to rush you, it wasn't your fault he was a dumbass who only took bad decisions in life, well, not only bad ones, you were the living proof Javier could get some things right, but other than you, the rest was just a long shot.

When Steve mentioned something about work, Javi began to restlessly trace patterns on your skin. It was as if he had gotten into a nervous state, though you didn't get what exactly happened, it was like the two of them had an inside joke going on, one that was not funny at all.

You then remembered your interaction earlier that morning, when you put on his shirt and Javi had told you he was going to wear that during his meeting with Messina and you immediately relaxed at the same time you felt your cheeks and the tips of your ears heating up at the immediate memory that flooded you of what came after he had mentioned the shirt. The way he'd gripped your neck, touched you and filled you up with every inch of himself. It felt like you had been lost in paradise. Also, it became a fair assumption the discomfort between the two agents was their boss's doing. She must have been feral on them during their meeting and Murphy probably blamed it on Javier, or Javier blamed it on Murphy like they usually did.

The tension you felt dissolved completely and you actually enjoyed your boyfriend's little touches under the table, they weren't erotic, - Javier wouldn't do that. Yes, he was the kind of guy who would definitely finger you under the table in a crowded place, but no, he would never even consider doing that if there were any kids nearby. But the touches were intimate, affectionate. You bit your lips, pretending you were listening to every single sentence in that conversation, but in reality you were trying to distinguish what exactly Javier's finger was invisibly drawing on your skin, you could feel steady lines, following a rhythm order and you couldn't help but smile big when you finally broke the code.

P

E

Ñ

A

That's what his fingers traced on your thigh.

It was so silly and childish, and yet a sweet reminder of your relationship. He marked you as his even unconsciously. You couldn't lie at all, it felt pretty good.

Olivia yawned big and felt her little eyes closing on their own as sleep became so intense she couldn't keep her little head from hanging low. Connie chuckled as she noticed her daughter being so sleepy and immediately got up, picking her up gently and disappearing into one of the rooms of the apartment.

Murphy took the opportunity his wife and daughter weren't in the room any longer and smirked as he raised yet another glass of wine towards you before killing it in one sip.

"So, Y/N… you and Javi are a thing, for real now, huh? Remember just how a few months ago he was a real dick to you? He treated you like absolute shit and even fucked a hooker that looked just like you, or so I heard…" he laughed softly "good thing you are a real sweet thing and you can overcome those ups and downs in your relationship, because trust me, sweetie, I'll really need this resilience"

Just as shock was everything that went through your body, anger was the only thing that ran through Javier's veins. You both could tell Steve was drunk from the amount of wine he'd had, but he should've known better than to bring shit up like that. It was none of his business, and still quite of a gray area for the two of you as you had pretty much ignored it and pretended it never happened, when in reality you just hoped everyone else would do the same. It had already been pretty humiliating and painful as it was and you definitely didn't need anyone, let alone Steve bringing that up.

Javier slammed his hands on the table, immediately getting up and pointing a finger at Steve's temporary madness. It was one thing if he was pissed off at him. If he wanted to punch Javier in the face he could even do it and Javi would definitely not give two shits about it, but teasing you and bringing you into that situation, that was too much for him.

"Shut the fuck up right now, Steve. Why are you even saying shit like that? I made a lot of mistakes but this is none of your fucking business, I don't talk about your personal life, so why are you doing this to us? To her?" He pointed at you, as you kept your head low, you felt so ashamed at that moment, still clueless to why such thing had been brought up like that, but Steve didn't care at all.

"Sorry Y/N, didn't mean to embarrass you, but I was also wondering if you know your wonderful boyfriend is being threatened by the head of the Los Pepes death squad? Do you know she has promised to end his career in the DEA by going to the american press?" He asked "can you believe that?"

You didn't say anything at the same time Javier's voice filled the room initiating an argument with Steve, hoping he would stop talking.

"Here's a great idea, Jav… instead of jeopardizing our entire mission, you could give in to your impulses and fuck Judy, maybe it will help us all… I'm sure Y/N wouldn't mind, deep down she knows she can't expect much from you… or maybe she would understand perfectly, I'm sure she would take this bullet for the team"

You didn't know why Steve was acting that way, why he was suddenly so angry, you could understand his frustration, of course but it didn't explain why he decided to use you as a target to hit Javier. He could have just talked about his posture as a cop, insist on argumenting how wrong associating with that squad was, but using personal elements to provoke Javier was too much.

"Why are you doing this Steve?" You finally raised your head and stared at him, your cheeks already wet with tears you couldn't control at the anger and shame of being treated that way by someone you thought was your friend.

You could have raised your voice, defended Javier, defended your relationship with him, but you felt so weak and small at that moment, as if you were just a stupid little girl who fell for the Romeo's cheap tricks. You knew you couldn't let Javier's past intrude your relationship, he had changed, he wasn't that jerk anymore, he was a good man, actually he had always been a good man but he didn't believe in himself. You believed in him and that made him believe as well, and that was why your relationship was working so perfectly, but no one, and especially no one you considered a friend had the right to bring those things up. It was mean, hurtful and you felt you couldn't stay there any longer. If Murphy had a problem with Javier, he should solve it with him, and not drag you into the eye of the storm.

You got up and grabbed your coat, walking to the door at the same time Connie returned from the room and watched the warzone her dining room became. She didn't understand why Javier was screaming at Steve at the same time her husband pointed at you and mumbled something she couldn't actually understand and you cried, but she knew it wasn't good.

She called your name, trying to make you stop, wanting to talk to you and ask you what was going on, but you turned your back to everyone and walked away, running downstairs and locking yourself up in your apartment.

Javier on the other hand was livid, he wanted nothing more than throw punches at Steve, he didn't understand where that attack came from, Javi knew he had all the right to be pissed at the Los Pepes association but that should have been handled in the office and not during a double dinner date, and not by attacking and teasing his girlfriend. Javi also knew it was the only way he would get a reaction from him. If Steve had said anything about Javier, he would have probably shrugged it off, but the moment he brought you into the deal then Javi got angry. To the point he didn't know any better and finally punched his friend, feeling Murphy's face under his fist and blood immediately soaking his pained knuckles. He didn't want things to go like that, but it was partially if not mostly Steve's fault for acting like a dick around them all.

Murphy immediately fought back, throwing a punch at Javi, who groaned and was ready to get back at the other man once more if it weren't for Connie screaming for them to stop. She was terrified, in all the years they'd been together, she'd never seen her husband act like that and especially not towards his partner.

She desperately asked them to stop, but Steve seemed to only had fallen back into his senses when Olivia also screamed in fear, so scared at the commotion happening in the living room and snapping her away from her sweet dreams.

Murphy finally stopped and looked at his wife's shocked face, then looked back at Peña, who was panting and wiping the sweat off his face.

"See the shit you did, Javier? You can never do anything right!" He said angrily and paced the living room, "my daughter's crying now, scared because of your fucking scene!!! Not that you understand what that means, because you are never gonna have that, Javier. Never! You'll screw up just like you did with your job, I don't even know why you still try it!"

•••

Javier immediately left the apartment and ran downstairs, the whole environment was suffocating him, but not as much as Steve's words. He knew people didn't take him seriously, not his friends, not his partners at work, not his hometown and not even his dad. And he never really cared about it, or the part of him that actually cared was long gone and buried. It was easier to handle things that way, Javier taught himself.

But lately he had learned to trust a little more in himself, because you had faith in him, you were the only good thing he had in life and he hated himself to be brutally reminded he didn't deserve you like that, he hated how you left the room crying, disappointment after disappointment. Of course to some extent blaming it on Steve was the logical attitude, but if it weren't for himself, there would be nothing Steve could have used against you. He had done all those things, he had humiliated you with a fucking prostitute, not only that, one that looked just like you, it was disgusting and low, and he honestly didn't know why or how you had forgiven him.

Even if the whole death squad drama didn't happen, you would still have to face shame for the rest of your life just because of the mere fact of being with him. It didn't matter where you went, if it was Colombia or Laredo, people would always point fingers at you, whispering and laughing at the fact you chose Javier Peña.

He wanted to disappear at that moment, it weighed so heavy in his chest, he felt so guilty and ashamed of himself.

At the same time he needed to see you, he wanted to avoid you. He hoped you weren't so upset, so broken at what happened, you were such a strong girl, but even he could tell Steve stroked a delicate point.

He stood in front of his apartment and opened the door, walking inside and calling your name, having no answer and swallowing hard, as he knew instantly you were back at your place. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed deeply, a bad feeling taking over him as his heart raced at the absence of you.

He turned around and went for your apartment instead, an anger filling his body, running through his veins. He knew he couldn't just aim his anger with Steve at you nor his self-hatred, but god, it made his blood boil not to find you there. All that talk about love, partnership and understanding just went to shit because of Steve's tantrum?

He didn't knock, instead he used his own key and burst the door open, making you jump off the couch startled. You sniffed as your eyes were red and puffy, being obvious you'd been crying for the past half an hour.

You looked at him, not liking how dark his expression was, he wasn't looking at you with soft, loving eyes, you could see the burning rage and you didn't know what else had happened, but you trusted he wasn't going to be childish and take it on you.

"What now?" He asked and folded his arms "is it because of Judy and her threats? Or is it still because of the hooker?" He asked annoyed and looked at you up and down. He was just so angry, at any other time, he would have wrapped his arms around your body, pulled you closer and made you forget all about what was hurting you, but at that moment, Javier's feelings were a turmoil and he couldn't control them.

You dried your tears and walked to him "why are you being so rude? It's not my fault" you said and stared at him, why Javier was snapping like that was beyond you.

Javier scoffed and shook his head "I'm not being rude, I just asked you a question, are you gonna cry about that too, Y/N? I thought all that talk about forgiving and believing I was a better man was real, but every single time something about my past comes up you're gonna cry like that?" He was visibly impatient at the same time he was willing to give everything in order to shut himself up before he could screw things up.

You frowned and shook your head "yeah, I meant all that when I said I believed you, and that I trusted you could be a better man, Javi… you are a good man" you said "but this is not the way of talking to me, it hurts Javi… I don't hold it against you, but it does hurt… it is something you did to hurt my feelings and you knew it… and now with Los Pepes… you are in danger, your career Javi… what if they try to kill you?" You blinked some more tears, but his expression was indecipherable.

He scoffed again and looked at you

"It doesn't make any sense, there's nothing any of us can do about it, cariño. I've always been a bad guy, too bad you couldn't see it, or you saw it and that was why you liked it so much"

Come on, Javier, don't say it.

He begged himself and bit his lower lip softly

"I don't think this will work, Y/N…"

You shook your head and took a step closer to Javier, he couldn't just regress to what he was before, no, you two had made such progress, you were so in love with each other, he couldn't just do what you thought he was about to.

"What are you talking about, Javi? It is working between us" you said as your breath accelerated and the blood in your ears almost made it hard for you to hear.

"It is working, but it's not gonna work in the long run Y/N"

"Are you breaking up with me?" Your voice cracked as you stared into his eyes.

No, never. He thought. He couldn't hold himself back now, he had made so much progress he was just so happy, he just wanted to fall on his knees and show you he was yours and only yours. But he didn't.

"Fuck this"

He said and turned around, walking out the door.

•••

You didn't keep track of how long you were crying by yourself. You couldn't believe and wrap your head around what happened. Just as you had got Javi, you had made plans with him, you had envisioned and fantasized a life of happiness and love with him, moving into his ranch, living your life next to him, maybe getting married one day and even maybe bringing a baby into the picture, all of that, it seemed so real to you and just like that he walked away from you.

Anyone could see it coming, but you couldn't, because they didn't know Javi the way you did, they didn't love him the way you did and they didn't know he loved you the way you did. He was so affectionate, so in love, always in need of touching and feeling you next to himself, he couldn't just walk away from you. Yeah, what had happened was bad, but all the path you walked together couldn't be undone just by one simple occasion. Steve's words couldn't be that powerful, could they? Or Javi wouldn't just break your heart with that stupid excuse of keeping you safe or because he knew you deserved better. That grew old, you didn't buy anymore. One part of you didn't believe your Javi, your lovely handsome boyfriend would ever do that, but on the other hand that was exactly what it looked like. He had just walked away with no further explanation.

You felt so lost, so alone as if the ground had disappeared off your feet and you desperately needed to find a grip back to reality. The beautiful moment you lived with him couldn't be over just yet, you couldn't accept that was ever all you would get of him because the cold truth snapped you away from the fairytale you lived for the past two months.

Those two months of pure happiness and bliss, of affection and amazing sex couldn't be the only thing to your relationship with Javi, because you were certain those two months would ruin the rest of your life, you would never be able to be happy again.

You desperately felt the need of being close to him, even if he had just left you wanted to feel his warmth, his embrace, smell his cologne, you wanted to cup his cheeks and make sure he was real, he was still yours.

So you didn't think twice before walking into his apartment. It was where you were supposed to be sleeping, where you should be tangling yourself into his body in bed, naked, rapid breathing and rhythm moves bringing the two of you to the bliss you craved so much with your man. Everything about that place hurt when you stepped inside. It had become so cozy, your true home, more than your own apartment and yet, the desperate possibility of not having free access to it every single day just made your heart tighten in your chest.

You didn't know where Javi went, a teeny tiny little part of your brain tried haunting you, planting the jealousy and anxiety seed, reminding you of all the shady sketchy places he often went to to pick up women before getting with you, but you quickly dismissed it. You had hopes it wasn't nothing but a misunderstanding, and even if it weren't, you thought Javier was better than that. Chances were he just went out to some bar to get drunk and forget that night ever existed, and it was what you should do too. If he had the right to low-key break up with you and go get drunk, then you also had the right to forget.

With the exception you we're already tipsy from all the wine you had had earlier, before everything went to shit, and that you were in Colombia and that was definitely not a safe place for a woman to walk alone at night.

Also, the fact you weren't a DEA agent carrying a gun for protection weighed on it.

A gun.

A gut feeling told you to immediately look for Javi's badge and gun, if he had left them at home, it meant he left for a bar or somewhere else, though you really didn't want to even think of that hypothesis.

You shook your head and got off his bed, going to the safe place he kept them both and opened it, finding it completely empty.

Your mouth went completely dry.

He had taken his gun and that could only mean problem.

When Javier drove back home he wanted to punch and kick himself for being that stupid. He couldn't even begin to explain to himself all the things he did wrong. Was it jeopardizing a whole investigation by allowing a death squad to finish the enemies they had in common? Was it letting his temper get in the way of his friendship? Yeah, Steve was a douche and he deserved that punch, not only for himself but for embarrassing you like that. As Javi had thought over and over: Steve could have talked about anything about Javier, but not about you. Not when you were so good to them, not when you were his girlfriend and Steve's friend. It was mean, cruel even and also a cowardly move coming from him. But now, thinking clearer, Javier knew he could have handled things better, maybe he could have just left and let the soberness of morning light handle the situation better. It would've been wiser to do that.

But out of all the bad things Javier did that night, definitely his attempt of pushing you away was the cherry on top of the cake.

He didn't know what had got into him, the whole situation led him to an unbelievable anger, one he should have aimed at anyone but you, because you were the only good thing in his life, you were the one who made it all worth it, you were the one he loved and wanted to have a future with.

And yet, he acted like a real bastard. He purposely hurt you, he left you in the dark and now he was terrified you had taken things to the letter, he just didn't know what he was going to do if you walked out of his life. If you did it, he would deserve it, but he was sure he would die.

Javi parked and got out of the car, his head pounding at the adrenaline and the booze, the punch, the stress and the fear of being alone. He sighed, he shouldn't have done any of the things he did that night, especially not after he grabbed his gun and left, but he saw no other way out. Javier took a look at your apartment door, you were probably there, asleep or crying yourself to sleep, as everything was dark and silent, so he just entered his place, knowing it would be just as dark and empty as it was the first day he moved in.

And you were there.

You were there as if nothing had happened, as if you hadn't been treated like shit by Steve first and then by Javier himself. He just couldn't believe it.

"Y/N…" he whispered and walked to you, seeing your puffy eyes, the tears caused by him, still present. You were still wearing the same dress as earlier, and god, you looked gorgeous, he wished he had told you before. When you were still having dinner with your friends, when he had his hand on your thigh, tracing his own name on your skin.

You didn't move, as you watched him walk towards you, you didn't see the storm in his eyes anymore, but you didn't see the joy in them, they were empty, sad… red.. was Javier tearing up? No, you must've been seeing things, you had never seen Javi cry.

Suddenly, he felt a wave of disappointment in himself, he knew what that scene looked like, even if he still carried his badge and gun, anyone who'd met him before would've guess he had taken a quick trip to a brothel and he felt ashamed of that, of himself and the fact people would always either laugh at you or would pity you for it.

"You're probably thinking I went to a whorehouse or something… Y/N I-"

You cut him off, shaking your head and whispering no repeatedly. Even if, yes, for a split second your anxiety made you consider the hypothesis, but you dismissed it right away, others could think whatever they wanted of Javi, but you knew him. You trusted him.

"No, Javi… I think better of you, I think the world of you and I trust you you wouldn't do this to me"

And that broke Javi.

Because you were too kind, you were too good for him, you were everything he didn't deserve it.

You always assumed the best of him, and he could never find anyone better than you. He wasn't in a whorehouse, he was at a whore's house. He went over to Judy Mocada's and against any better judgment he pointed a gun at her head, how her sicarios didn't kill him on the act, he would never know, but she thought it was intriguing, amusing even. What made a DEA agent hold her at gunpoint in the middle of the night definitely caught her attention.

He had made her an offer, she agreed and he needed to wait for her at the Embassy the next day. A part of him knew it was easy, too easy, actually, but he didn't care at that moment. In fact, he felt he should've blown up her head when he had the chance to.

And then he just wanted to go home and pick up the pieces of what he'd shattered.

And there you were, being too kind to him, being too loving, too affectionate. It just showed him little of a person he really was.

And standing right next to you, Javi felt onto his knees. His head looking up at you, all the love and admiration back in those beautiful brown eyes, his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer.

"Soy un perro a tus pies"

Javier told you, his breathing was uneven as he waited for an answer that never came. You didn't have words to tell him, after all that happened in just one night you didn't know what to say. So instead, he decided to apologize to you in the best way he knew, the way he could speak beautifully without any words.

He sank his face into your core, lifting your dress up and quickly pulling your panties to the side. He lips didn't tease when they wrapped around your clit and sucked on it, feeling your characteristic warmth, your taste, and when your moans filled the room and your fingers ran through his hair, tugging and gripping at them, he thought that maybe and just maybe things would be alright again.

_____

A/N: it was a hard chapter to write, but it felt necessary to the story, I didn't want to ruin Javi's character development but I also wanted to show that deep down he is still the same insecure handsome broken agent we came to love 🥺🥺🥺

[bloopitynoot]

12 Wangxian Time-Travel Fix-it Fics

This rec list had the majority votes on my wangXian rec list poll, and honestly I didn't even realize how many fantastic time-travel fics I had collected.

Note: all of these fics are tried and true; meaning I have vetted, read, and cherish all of them. If you would like a personalized rec list theme for Wangxian DM me, I love making these lists!

These time travel fix-its all focus on Wangxian in particular though the time travelers vary (and the time plot varies).

I tried to keep the choices expansive; the plots are all wildly different, the ratings vary, and tone of the fics ranges from crack to Angst Angst Angst.

I hope you enjoy!

1 Lynchpin (103005 words) by ShanaStoryteller

Chapters: 12/12 Rating: Not Rated Additional Tags: Time Travel, Fix-It, jiang cheng fixes everything through the power of brotherly love, knowing everyone's secrets helps too Summary: He can’t get Jin Guangyao’s words out of his head. If he’d only believed in Wei Wuxian, if he’d only been willing to stand up for him, could it all have been avoided?

NOTES: This was a SOLID Yummengbros fix. I loved that it was Jiang Cheng who went back to fix the plot. This fix it starts with the canon we know in the end; WY and his husband in cloud recesses, Jin Ling being prepared to lead the Jin's, and Jiang Cheng alone. It is a solid time travel fix and I love that it is Jiang Cheng led.

2 Lan Jingyi (Accidently) Discovers Time Travel (31719 words) by Waffles95

Chapters: 12/12 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Fix-It of Sorts, Not Beta Read, Self-Indulgent, POV Multiple Summary: In a universe where Lan Jingyi is Lan Xichen’s biological son, he messes up Wei Wuxian’s experimental array and sends himself and his siblings to the past. With the help of their family, they must figure out how to get back home or be stuck there forever.

NOTES: Lan Jingyi is one of Xichen's biological children (and Jingyi has some troublesome siblings lol), he finds one of his siblings experimenting with an array and the kids are transported back in time. Now he has to take care of his siblings, figure out a way back, and do a little match making on the side. this is a silly little fic, a great pick-me-up read. Note: this is more of an alt timeline rather than a time travel fix-it but it really is close enough.

3 if you can't beat them, recruit them (228416 words) by moeblobmegane

Chapters: 48/48 Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Conspiracy, Spies & Secret Agents, Team as Family, Found Family, Burial Mounds, Temporary Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Pining, Morally Ambiguous Character, Rumors, Politics, Background JZX/JYL, Developing Friendships, Good Uncle Lan Qiren, Demonic Cultivation (Modao Zushi), YilingWei Sect Series: Part 1 of wwx time travels and accidentally creates a platonic harem Summary: Rather than mourning a future that had not happened yet, he would rather work with all his might to prevent it from happening. […] His aim was to fortify his home and his family so that they would never again be left vulnerable to greedy cultivators aiming for his genius. For that, he needed help. He may be a genius, but he was not the cunning manipulative man they thought him to be. No, that was not him. He knew who was, though.   (Or: Wei Wuxian uses a powerful array to go back in time and builds a secret squad to prevent the misfortunes of the future.)

NOTES: Oh man I love this fic so much. This fic does start off really damn sad, but it ends up positive! Wei Ying really goes through it at the beginning, this boy has compound trauma for sure. The real reason I love this fic is that Wei Ying is over here with sheer determination, future knowledge, AND has been recruiting the 'villains' the entire time. Such a solid fic.

4All of Our Memories Gather (72700 words) by geethr75

Chapters: 43/43 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-It, Angst, Heavy Angst, Fix-It, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, not Jin Guangyao friendly, not jin guangshan friendly, Not Su She friendly, Not Xue Yang friendly, jin ling and his jiujiu, Golden Core Transfer (Modao Zushi), Golden Core Reveal (Modao Zushi), Canon Rewrite, Jiang Cheng | Jiang Wanyin-centric, Lan Huan | Lan Xichen-centric, jiang cheng friendly, Jiang Cheng | Jiang Wanyin & Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji Friendship, Jiang Cheng | Jiang Wanyin & Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian Reconciliation, Established Relationship, established xicheng, Depression, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, canon can go fuck itself, let my boys be happy, Good Sibling Jiang Cheng | Jiang Wanyin, Good Sibling Jiang Yanli, Good Sibling Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Good Sibling Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén, Good Sibling Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji, Good Uncle Jiang Cheng | Jiang Wanyin, Good Uncle Lan Huan | Lan Xichen, Good Uncle Lan Qiren, Good Nephew Jin Ling | Jin Rulan, Major character death - Freeform, only Jiāng Chéng enthusiasts allowed, Let's give Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen nice things, Don't Like Don't Read, Queernormative society Series: Part 18 of MDZS AUs, Part 12 of Xicheng AUs, Part 3 of MDZS Time Travel fix-it, Part 1 of Xicheng post canon time travel etc, Part 1 of Xicheng fix it Summary: Twelve years after the events of Guanyin temple, Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen are married and contemplating retirement when they along with their nephews somehow find themselves in the past immediately after the Sunshot campaign. They have to start over, and this time make different choices with the help of their nephews, and make sure that everyone they lost last time will stay alive this time Warning: THIS FIC IS NOT JGY FRIENDLY EXTREMELY JIANG CHENG FRIENDLY

NOTES: This is the crack I live for. I struggled to keep a straight face through so much of this, I could not stop laughing. JC and LXC are married and grossly in love but get yeeted into the past. These two do not even hide the fact that they are smitten and it truly makes everyone around them wonder if they are well. The plot was so fun (though there is some angst because they do have to fix-it) and it does include Wangxian matchmaking I promise LOL.

5 A Narrow Bridge (700193 words) by FrameofMind, Jo Lasalle

Chapters: 58/58 Rating: Explicit Characters: Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji, Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng | Jiang Wanyin, Wen Qing (Modao Zushi) Additional Tags: Time Travel, Fix-It, Time Travel Fix-It, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Slow Burn, Getting Together, First Time, Pining, Pining while fucking, Burial Mounds Settlement Days (Modao Zushi), Angst with a Happy Ending, Happy Ending, CQL Verse, almost everybody lives/almost nobody dies, epistolary-ish, canon-ish side pairings, radishes Summary: Once, Lan Wangji made a choice to step aside. Ten years after Wei Ying’s death, he finds a way back to choose again.

NOTES: I am not going to lie, I did cry through almost all of this; for various reasons. This fic is mostly Lan Zhan struggling through grief or later because of the price he pays to fix the situation. It is written beautifully, it is deeply sad, but the ending is truly gorgeous. This is such an incredible piece of writing I cannot express- but please have tissues on standby.

6 And Time Is But a Paper Moon (139032 words) by sami

Chapters: 39/39 Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Additional Tags: wangxian and qingxicheng are both featured, Asexual Jiang Cheng, Asexual Lan Xichen, Asexual Wēn Qíng, Asexual Character, canon AU, Canon-Typical Violence, Fix-It, Time Travel, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, unless I hate them, Healing, Mental Health Issues, PTSD, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Depression, BAMF Wei Wuxian, BAMF Jiang Cheng, BAMF Lan Wangji, BAMF Jiang Yanli, Wen Qing is a queen in any reality, Jin Zixuan has had it with his father's shit, Lan Qiren has just had it, Wei Wuxian/self-destructive tendencies, Lan Xichen/healing/happiness 2k20, Jiang Cheng/healing/happiness 2k20, First Time, Getting Together, Falling In Love, Cuddling & Snuggling, Hugs, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Sharing a Bed, Mentions of Rape, see Qin Su and Mo Xuanyu's existence, Jiang FengMian's A+ parenting, Yu Ziyuan's A+ Parenting, it's okay everybody, everything's going to be okay I promise Series: Part 1 of The Same Moon Shines Summary: "Zewu-Jun. You once told me about a house surrounded by gentians, where you visited once a month, and how Lan Zhan still waited there, even when the door no longer opened." Xichen feels light-headed. He feels shocked, and angry. He has never told anyone such a thing, but Lan Zhan is giving Xichen a look of utter betrayal. "You told him?" Lan Zhan whispers. "When?" Wei Wuxian takes Lan Zhan's hand. "About twenty years from now." Wei Wuxian starts again from the beginning. (Spanish translation on Wattpad.) (Russian translation.)

NOTES: I have shared this series so many times, but I will do it again. This is SO SO good. The series is long and evolves into other series and all of them set in the same universe. If you have a solid 2 weeks of vacation sit down and read all the parts. None of it will be disappointing. What I like about this time travel piece is that from near the beginning the people who need to know already understand that there is future intel. Anyways read it!!!!

7 Whatever it takes (115009 words) by Moonlit_dewdrops

Chapters: 35/35 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-It, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, yunmeng prides, POV Jiang Cheng, POV Wei WuXian, Wen Qing and Wen Ning live, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Wei WuXian and Jiang Cheng actually communicate, Yunmeng Siblings fluff, But Also Some Angst, Lots of WangXian moments, Protective Jiang Cheng | Jiang Wanyin, Protective Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji, Jin Guangshan and Jin Zixun will die for sure, Nie Mingjue Lives, Twin Prides of Yunmeng Feels, Slow burn but not for Wangxian, Brotherhood, justice for the wen remnants, Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan Live, Wen Remnants Live (Modao Zushi), Cinnamon Roll Wēn Níng | Wēn Qiónglín, Wēn Qíng Lives and Wen Ning (Módào Zǔshī), Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Cannibalism, reference to wwx's suicide, No beta we die like wwx, Established Relationship, Torture Summary: Jiang Cheng and Wei WuXian are sent back to the past. This time, they can save everyone they love. They can make the right choices. They can learn to trust one another. However, everything comes with a price.

NOTES: Eeeeep another Yummengbros fic- this time they go into the past together and fix the plot. Also the growth that Wei Ying brings to Wangxian in this (yes, he did need to live like 2 full lives to learn to communicate but it pans out in attempt 3) is so scrumptious. They do so well for Wangxian communication. Overall this fic is a good brotherly bonding + fix it.

8 Building a home (586482 words) by R95irth

Chapters: 110/110 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-It, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Okay maybe some will die, Some like Wen Chao?, Angst with a Happy Ending, Horror, Nightmares, Canon-Typical Violence, Complete list of ships in the serie summary, Family Fluff, Found Family, Babies, Untamed heroes are babies, Basically only no-canon-named people or bad people might die?, Like the trope but also lost and found family in the literal sense, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, but not done by the Lotus Pier squad, Also JGS exists so canon related things linked to him, Same goes for Lan parents Series: Part 1 of Home is where your heart is Summary: This was supposed to be an easy night hunt. They left Wei Ying at an Inn, and wanted to be back before sunrise. Instead they find themselves at the door of Lotus Pier, in the middle of the night, wounded, and their son, their beautiful son, injured. Things did not go as planned. Maybe, because, it is time to change their plan. Maybe it is time to stop wandering, to stop running away from the man they hurt, maybe it's time to heal. Maybe it is time to build a home.   It's over!! See you on Burning roofs : the next installement!! Spanish translation is now available : https://archiveofourown.org/works/28693317 Russian translation is now available : https://ficbook.net/readfic/11789571

NOTES: I cannot tell you how invested I am in this plot. There is a part 2 in the works but the writer is on a bit of a leave (they do see comments though so if you do read and enjoy make sure you tell them :'3). This is such a cool premise, Wei Ying's parents live, injured but in lotus pier, shenanigan's are happening in the cultivation world, Wangxian meet as children, and there is a strange dark presence that keeps infiltrating dreams. This fic technically has time travel but I am not giving anything away!

9 A Matter of Time (41251 words) by mrcformoso

Chapters: 8/8 Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage Additional Tags: Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, POV Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji, POV Jiang Cheng | Jiang Wanyin, Dark Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji, Top Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji/Bottom Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Lan Zhan goes crazy, Manipulation, Grooming, Except Lan Zhan and Wei Ying are physically the same age, but Lan Zhan kept his 30 year old mind, Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji/Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian Get a Happy Ending, Consensual Underage Sex, Except problematic please read warning in first chapter, Blood and Violence, Insane Lan zhan, Manic Lan Zhan, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Conditioning, Come Eating, Come Swallowing, Anal Fingering, Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian is a Lan, Minor Character Death, Golden Core Reveal (Modao Zushi), Good Friend Nie Huaisang, Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian Isn't Adopted by the Jiangs, Abusive Jiang Family (Modao Zushi), Jiang Family Bashing (Modao Zushi), POV Nie Huaisang, Dark Nie Huaisang, Anal Sex, Marathon Sex, Dual Cultivation, Horny Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji/Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Qingheng-jun Lives, Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji Has a Big Dick, Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian Self-Lubricates, Qishan Wen Indoctrination (Modao Zushi), Plot Twists, Porn With Plot, Sunshot Campaign (Modao Zushi), Lanling Jin Sect Bashing (Modao Zushi), Scheming Nie Huaisang, Manipulative Nie Huaisang, BAMF Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji, BAMF Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, BAMF Nie Huaisang, Burial Mounds Lore, Sentient Burial Mounds (Modao Zushi), Married Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji/Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Adopted Lan Yuan | Lan Sizhui, Breathplay, Dark Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Yandere Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Translation Available Series: Part 1 of A Matter of Time Summary: When Lan Wangji went back in time to the first time he met Wei Wuxian, he thought it would be on their spar on the rooftops. He thought of how much he would have to change their interactions through the Cloud Recesses, how he would have to find a way to split Wei Wuxian from the Jiangs… But when he came to his body, he found himself holding out a toy drum to a little child, a little A-Ying, in the streets of Yilling. 'Huh.' Lan Wangji thought as the little boy smiled up at him. 'This will be easier than I thought.'   Or: After Wei Wuxian’s death, something broke in Lan Wangji. He would do anything to get the love of his life back, safely in his arms. Even rewrite history.

NOTES: I will start off with MIND THE TAGS. This does feature child grooming by definition, it does have an adult in a child's body. I would classify this as Very Dark Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan goes back to the first time him and wangxian meet (donghua canon) and they are children- he essentially manipulates his uncle and brother to take Wei Ying with them to cloud recesses. Plot twist- it was not only Lan Wangji who went back in time.

10 Tragedy is Not the End (358230 words) by Hobbsy3

Chapters: 67/67 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Additional Tags: People die but they (mostly) get better, Time Travel, Torture, Hurt/Comfort, Golden Core Reveal, Canon Divergence from Qiongqi Pass, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Because Jin Guangshan and Jin Zixun suck, jiang cheng is doing his best, Jiang Yanli fixes everything with soup and a baby, Jin Zixuan gets it together, Yunmeng sibling bonding, good dad wei wuxian, good dad lan zhan, Jin Zixuan Lives, Jiang Yanli Lives, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Wen Remnants Live (Modao Zushi), Junior Quartet Dynamics (Modao Zushi) Summary: When Sizhui, Jingyi, and Zizhen are captured with Jin Ling at the Guanyin Temple, they're sure that Hanguang Jun and Wei Wuxian will fix everything - until Su She stabs Lan Wangji through the stomach, and everything falls apart around them. In a last, frantic attempt to undo the damage Jin Guangyao has done, Wei Wuxian activates a deadly array to send the four juniors back in time, sending them to the morning of Jin Ling's one-month celebration. With the fate of everyone and everything they love in their hands, Sizhui, Jin Ling, Zizhen and Jingyi race to prevent the ambush at Qiongqi Pass and the subsequent fallout, but Jin Guangyao has returned from the future as well, and he has no intention of letting what he wants fall through his hands a second time.

NOTES: This starts off so upsetting; Guanyin Temple does not go as planned and the party uses a last resort to send the kids back in time. These poor babes have so much trauma and now have to prevent the future from happening again. The angst is worth it!

11 Echoes of Love (212176 words) by Witch_Nova221

Chapters: 32/32 Rating: Mature Additional Tags: Romance, Eventual Romance, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, university lecturer Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji/Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian Get a Happy Ending, Dark Baoshan Sanren, Amnesia, Memory Loss, 1980s music, Lan Zhan loves all things 80s, Oxford vs Cambridge Boat Race, Canon-Typical Violence, References to Torture, Murder, Blood, Blood and Injury, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Mystery, Nova's Give Lan Zhan friends of his own agenda Series: Part 1 of A Never Ending Story Summary: 'Somehow I knew, that day back at Churchill, I knew you were someone essential to me. That part of you was reaching out to a part of me and now I know why.' When Wei Ying fell he was ready to die. To die and to let the world forget him but someone had other ideas. Now, stranded in 21st Century England, he finds himself without a common language, friends or even any memory of who he was before. Luck alone brings him to the steps of Churchill College and to the attention of a young Professor Lan Zhan; expert in ancient pottery and fine art, champion rower, and lover of all things 1980s. With his new friend at his side, Wei Ying begins to navigate his new world in the hope of finding his place in it but echoes of the past are never far behind.

NOTES: I have shared this before and YES I did cry reading it. This has a VERY dark baoshan Sanren, it's more of a modern au- but there is time travel and the time travel feels very epistolary (read: fucking heartbreaking letters over lifetimes). It does have a happy ending but honestly the cost was worse than canon. That all being said- it was a really good fic, but you might need tissues for this one too.

12 From Whence You Came (79393 words) by kanzaki19

Chapters: 12/12 Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Additional Tags: Time Travel Fix-It, Night Hunts (Modao Zushi), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Fix-It, Canon-Typical Violence, Time Travel, Happy Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending Series: Part 1 of Second Chances Summary: Do not take those you love for granted, tell them you love them. You may never see them again. After being torn from the life he has lovingly settled in, Wei Wuxian finds himself back in Qiongi Path. Faced with immediate threats he grabs hold of every opportunity to better the lives of his family.

NOTES: A fix it from Qiongi Path AND I think all the good ones live in this? It does feature some angst because we do have WY going back and he is a trauma babe, but the ending is very positive. I can't recall if the time travel plot is actually explained or it it's an "i woke up like this" vibe, but it was still a good fic!

[tare-anime]

Hi, your posts about Spy X Family are real good. I see chapter 105 as improvement of Franky's role and character. Wheather he'll get lucky - or not - on the Finding a Girlfriend case is a hot one. I wonder,when will Anya she's fed up with Damian's disdaineful,toxic world? I posted my thorough stydy upon this case. I've ceased to believe for a friendship(or romance between them). Unpopular truth:All these (old and new) cruel and awfull insults of Damian to Anya, in the end reflect and represent his Papa(: So in my opinion she and Papa "Twilight" will get the documents of Donovan's scheme by an other source.By the way, if government officials and the SSS are not his lackey's ,associates for his scheme then who they might be? And when WISE uncovers it what will be their actions against him and his network? Are we ready to see how Sylvia has killed people,real villains say Ostanians similar the assassins yor has killed? See you :)

Oh wow, thank you so much. I'm glad you find my rambles to be enjoyable 🥰🥰

As for chp 105, yes it's one of my favorite kind of "side character building up" type of chapter. And this time, we got to see Franky's character building. For me, Franky is such an amazing character that know how to enjoy his life. He has his princips and stays true to that, and didn't stop being kind, while at the same time he has a very smart view of the world and very logic in thinking process. I do hope he will find a woman who will appreciate him as who he is. But first, he has to decide when he want to settle down before doing it.

As for Damian. Yes, unfortunately if I have to be honest, I don't like Damian very much if he is showing his tsundere side and keep pointing and hurting Anya. But, he is still a boy, who tried too much. I hope he will one day learn to accept that there's nothing wrong by enjoying the process of growing up, and not too focused on the goal. And the fact that his Dad IS NOT someone he has to look up to. I believe Damian has good heart though, as we already seen in so many occasions. And just like every kid, in the growing process, the influences from other people particularly their peers are huge. And I hope Anya (with her own problems and difficulties) alongside with Ewen and Emile and Becky, can help Damian grows into a fine man. This is why, my fave chapter of Damian will always be where he can act like a boy of his age.

And I do agree. I do hope Twilight will find some other way to approach Donovan. And not pushing it through Anya and Damian friendship. Let these kids be friend without ulterior motives other than being friends.

The mystery of Donovan ascossiates are still there. This man has so much power, and yet, we know he is not with the incumbent of Ostanian govt. He is not directly leads the SSS, though without a doubt there will be fractions of SSS who is loyal to him up until current timeline. So where did his power came from? This remains a mystery until Endo decides to move forward with the plot, I guess 🤭

Tbh, I don't think WISE is 100% good either. It is possible that Op Strix be WISE's own plot to overturn Donovan because this man dares to oppose WISE. Anything is possible in politics after all 🤣 so how will WISE reacts when they finally got the information on Donovan? That will also depends on further information given to us by Endo himself.

Come on Endo!!! Give us more plot development 😫😫

Regarding Sylvia, Oh yes, through her speech during Inu-san crisis arc, we know that Sylvia has killed people during her life. This has eating her soul, but she has to carry on with her life. The same goes to Yor. Yor must know that not all of her clients are guilty per se, but she has to numb her soul because that's how she carry on with her life.

Thank you so much for the asks. I hope I manage to give satisfying answers 🥰🥰🥰

Good day to you too!

[chaggie4ever]

Preface for upcoming multi-part fic: Fallen Wings

Hi there! Thank you for taking the time to read my very first fanfiction period! I've been lurking on AO3 and Tumblr for some time now devouring people's works. There are far too many for me to list here but between my obsession with this fandom and Chaggie, and inspiration from these works, here I am! This is quite the ambitious project that I have been planning out for the better part of 2025, currently planned to be seven lengthy parts. I am very busy with work but hope to put each part out all together for binge-reading as this is clearly the way we consume media these days and I myself search for completed works typically :)

This is obviously an adult cartoon made for adults, but children that have slipped through please skip this one. There will be blood and gore and language and LOTS of explicit sex. I will allude to nonconsensual mostly, with a few more written out parts because it is important to the plot. I was originally just going to write a bunch of smut one-shots but then came to think how my girl Vaggie is neglected in the fandom and while many works have remedied this, none have gone quite the direction I envisioned. I have lots of analysis of her on my Tumblr too if you're interested. I've never been quite this obsessed with a fictional character before so this is largely how I'm trying to work that out of my system. So there will absolutely be smut but we have to do some world building and actual plot first. I'm also trying to stick to some biblical stuff verbatim and challenge as much as I can as a "born again ex-evangelical" Unitarian Universalist.

I have a whole outline on where I want to go with this project, titled Fallen Wings as a whole with part 1 Before the Fall, Part 2 After the Fall, Part 3 season 1, Part 4 Post-Exorcisms, Part 5 Princesses of Hell, Part 6 Defense of Hell, and Part 7 Revelations as the working titles. I will focus on my headcannon of Luggie (Vaggie+Lute) for part 1, then Chaggie after this. All events from season 1 are cannon for this story, and part 4 onward may have some spoilers from season 2 leaks and eventually may diverge from the real series as I write faster than they do :) No there will not be poly. I am in a happy monogamous very gay marriage with my own wife and this is what I'm most comfortable writing. I will sprinkle other LGBTQIA stuff in and hope to more fully develop all of the main characters as well but it will mostly be from Vaggie's perspective with some Lute and Charlie. Main ships will be Chaggie and Huskerdust. Still deciding if I want Radioapple or to actually respect his Ace cannon.. They are just kinda perfect together but I also like Lucilith so we'll see.

I have a military background myself and am a psychiatrist so there will be some shameless Prozac scripts for the characters who need it and some deep delve into trauma and emotional and physical and sexual abuse because this is my jam. I will also try to put warnings for noncon and some trauma stuff ahead of time so that those who need to can skip those parts and still enjoy the work :) I tend to write sardonically and sarcastically, and my own political and religious views will likely become obvious, but I hope to capture as many aspects as I can of each character to fully flesh them out.

Also if you find the first few chapters less interesting please persist through! These are written a tad differently than my normal style for world-building and historical stuff (chapter 2-3), but I promise you will get to the smut (ch7) and actual dialogue (ch4) and hopefully some funny bits :) I'll try to sprinkle in my favorite fanart/scenes and songs that make me think of the characters as well (the link is the credit). Each title is based on a song that fits the theme of the chapter, with lyrics at the end.

Anyway, enough of my monologue and thank you again for reading! Please comment/subscribe! I take praise and criticism shamelessly :) I have the same name on Tumblr as well.

[gasps-inspanish]

Notes for the fifth and final chapter of my Green Lantern fic Fear and What Follows: Fear Remains, But So Does Your Kindness. This has some worldbuilding notes and GL headcannons i included in my fic as well as thoughts about the chapter so you dont need to read the fic to read and enjoy this.

I didn’t want to write them as fearless bc like, no one is truly fearless. And if they never felt any fear that locks off a lot of emotions. being a GL is about overcoming great fear, not being fearless. They feel fear, they just can overcome it easier! Thats why Chance died, he gave into fear-

Surprise Helen is alive!!!!!

Ollie, Hal, Barry and their families spending the holidays together is important to me. It’s their tradition they started just the three of them

Running gag that Hal never brings Carol because they are never together during the holiday season-

Kyle and his space friends (lovingly calling them Space Squad) are stupid but they love him and he loves them. I wanna write more about their adventures

If someone even hints at being interested in the volley ball incident I will write it I have no self control

I am a Hal and Carol shipper, but they don’t get back together in this fic sorry guys. They do later- Damn now I want to write them.

Please know that the eggs Hal made were bad but Kyle is polite and ate them. He’s surprised he didn’t die

Planning on writing Kyle’s graduation. Idk when yet

Also Bruce did go to Barry’s graduation. They just don’t know any of the Batfams secret identities at this point in the time line

When Kyle gets mad he draws himself bonking people he’s mad at on the head with hammers

I’m also very fond of the hc that Kyle draws people he’s mad at pregnant. That’s so funny to me idk-

Idk if anyone noticed, but like Kyle showing the contents of his sketchbook to Hal is a HUGE trust thing. U dont just share ur sketchbook with everyone.

Yes I’m a DonnaKyle shipper. Don’t look at me like that-

the donnakyle playlist is getting so long guys the brain rot is real but I get NO CONTENT-

Titans Teams in my au!!

So the Titans are divided into A and B, but they do also work together a lot!

Titans A: Donna, Dick, Wally, Garth, Roy

Titans B: Gar, Vic, Rachel, Kori, and Karen

Titans West (not yet established at this point in the story but they are brewing!): was supposed to have Jason as the leader with Connor, Jackson, and Joey but Jason died. M’gann is added a bit after Jason dies, and later Jaime, and Kelli are added.

Kara and Kyle are besties agenda being ran by me over here-

With the whole debate about the Parallax retcon, i decided I like both versions so i mixed it. Parallax wasn’t able to completely take over Hal, so everything that Hal did as Parallax was a group effort. You get to decide how much Hal would’ve done without Parallax

This fic actually wasn’t going to be written at all, but my friend BETRAYED me so I wrote this as a revenge fic. It was just supposed to be the scene in chapter three where Hal is helping Kyle get free from Parallax, but this turned into a 5 chapter 36k word fic so I hope u guys enjoyed this! But my point here is supposed to be, there are some plot points such as Kyle not sharing his name or face with the other lanterns yet and what happened between Kyle and Titans A bc thats gonna be explored in an other fic im writing! no official name yet, but its under the code name T7 for now but is another Kyle centric thingy with Fab 5 and Kara (pov switch between Kyle, Donna, Wally and Dick), and ofc Kyle interacting with the other Lanterns. So you should totoally follow me if you want updates on that

How did I write a whole 36k word fic about Kyle where Kyle’s name isn’t mentioned once? Crazy right

While the fic is in Hal's pov, the chapter titles are in Kyle's pov!

[ageless-soul-au]

If someone was to start getting into asau, which order would you recommend? (Asking for a friend) (Definitely not for me) (Not at all) (Nope) (Nu uh)

I recently reordered the ao3 series, so it should be accurate now! Counterpart, Confidential, and Altars are the only ones you need to read for the main au (in that order) (and even then you could probably skip Counterpart but it's a short read so it's up to you. The series doesn't really start until Con). If you want to read the nsfw (P&C), some of it relies on plot things and some of it doesn't. It's different per chapter since Peaches & Cream is a catch-all.

If you wanna read the spinoff stuff, we have a separate au series for that! It's also linked in the pinned post. Faction is its own thing which receives semi regular updates, and the Lifeblood series is also separate (porn with plot, solely written by me). I need to go back and edit the fic Lifeblood since I wrote that first and then wrote the prequel. I'm kind of working on the third installment but it's slow going.

We're actively updating Altars and Faction, with an Altars chapter lined up for tomorrow (Sunday, Sept 1). Reading the main series is not required to read the spinoffs, though the characterization slightly differs between mainline, Faction, and Lifeblood.

A Condensed Guide to ASAU Fics:

Do you want to read slowburn romance that takes 30+ chapters to resolve? Confidential. Legend and Warriors spend that fic picking up (almost) every hero and having several miscommunications while learning about each other and falling in love. They deal with ✨traumaaaa✨ (and sexuality and gender) with kind of a B plot of the Quest Setup.

In The Stolen Altars, it picks up right where Con left off. With pretty much everyone assembled, it's time to get started on The Quest finally... After almost 300k words... They encounter dungeons and monsters and talk to deities, all while being toyed with by the main antagonist! A few more heroes join the cast! Be forewarned that this fic includes temporary death of major characters. It's tied in with the plot, you'll understand when you get there. This fic has surpassed Con's word count and we still have two more eras to go. It will be followed by a sequel. The main fics will maybe turn out to be a trilogy?????? But if it stretched to a 4th fic I wouldn't be surprised. The timeline on this is years lmao, I can't predict how wordy we'll get.

Faction is a political drama dealing with international relations and war, with a side of romance. It's got all the characters you know and love, but some slightly to the left! General fantasy setting with a bit of Zelda lore mixed in. It'll most likely be completed in one fic! WAOW!!!

The Lifeblood series is vampires and smut. What else do you need to hear? (Real talk tho, The Copper Kettle is higher quality/more cohesive in theme than Lifeblood the fic, gimme a little bit to fix the inconsistencies hxhdbsbsn)

Hope this helps! Happy reading! And don't forget to COMMENT!!!!! (probably with some context bc in some cases it's been years since we wrote this hxhxhsjs)

-Kio

[thedragonagebigbang]

Bang Creator Interview: Tumblr: @twist-shout-and-shells | AO3: Aint_No_Holy_Ghost

The Collaboration period has begun! In these quiet months before works are due, we want to foster a sense of excitement, camaraderie, and celebration among our participants. To that end, all participants were given the option of a formal interview by our mod, Dema, or an informal “ask-game” survey. We hope you enjoy getting to know our phenomenal creators as much as we have!

This is how local political unrest can help your love life!

Izzy and Dema talk writing (surprise!), trying and failing to catch a train, and Those Greek Guys

Dema: Starting current events (at the time of the interview): It's pitch writing time! How's it going?

Izzy: I've reached the part where the fun and games end and the heavier plot begins, so I'm moving more slowly. I totally lost control of the direction my story was going after chapter 3. But it's been a great time writing this story!

Dema: It is funny how our own stories can get away from us. I think I have my vibes pinned down and I almost always deviate. Does that tend to be your experience or are you usually a make-a-plan, stick-to-the-plan-type of writer?

Izzy: I try to be a no-plan writer. That's usually how my stories start: I get an idea and start in it with no real direction. But eventually I'm forced to develop some plan for where I'm going, and I try to stick to it. But I think the nature of stories is that sometimes they just write themselves and I'm simply their vessel.

Dema: I'm trying to remember which writer described it as trying to catch a train...

Izzy: That sounds familiar... But I can't remember either.

Dema: Wow, it's gunna drive me crazy. I'll put it in later… it was basically, you're on foot, and inspiration is like a train, and you're just grabbing onto whatever you can grab. Except I'm pretty sure a nobel prize-winning writer said it so it sounded much better.

[Narrator: Dema never did find the original source, and it really will drive her crazy. If you know it, tag her!]

When you say you eventually need to develop a plan, at what point do you realize you need to do that?

Izzy: Either when I run out of inspiration or when I have a clear idea of where I want to get, but no idea of how to get there. With my story for the DABB it was the former: after writing three chapters non-stop I hit a brick wall of "alright, and where am I going with this?"

Dema: I was going to ask about the DABB next! Did you have your preliminary idea before you decided to join in?

Izzy: Yes. It was an idea that had been kicking around in my head for a long while, but that I wasn't sure I should actually write because it's a) kind of a cliche and b) not a very popular pairing, but eventually I decided to just get it out there anyway. It started with a very particular line of dialogue and grew from there.

Dema: Oh, we love a rarepair in this house…And of course, I know what it is, and am excited.

Izzy: Lol! It was strange for me actually, becoming a rare pair writer. The first big bang I participated in was for Supernatural, a pairing with 100k fics on their tag. Now I'm writing for a pair with 100 fics, 4 of which are mine.

Dema: Incredible. You are holding down this fort. Also I love this little teaser. When did you start writing for DA?

Izzy: October 2022 (We're in 2024 already, jesus Christ)

Dema: Yes, unfortunately it is a daily shock for me as well. But I love how many people come into the fandom and create new fanworks even so long after the last game came out. What drew you in? Were you already hanging around the DA fandom before 2022?

Izzy: I started playing...at the end of 2021, I think. My brother introduced me to the franchise and my autistic little brain became obsessed with it. I was going to name my favorite game and protagonist, but considering they're the center of the fic, that'd be a spoiler. Anyway, I started following some DA blogs on Tumblr, and eventually thoughts of that game had consumed my every waking thought to the point I wrote two academic essays about it in my first year of uni. I wrote a significant portion of those 4 fics in the bus on the way to said uni. What drew me in most were the themes, really.

Dema: Any in particular?

Izzy: Found family and the tragic undertones of it all, mostly. I really like the way DA2 works as a tragedy in between two epics. The mage x templar conflict is also quite interesting. The tragedy x epic was totally the subject of one of those essays, btw. My professors suffer.

Dema: So I assume DA2 is your favorite of the franchise? Have you played all of them?

Izzy: Yes, it is! I've played all of them a couple of times, and DA2...several times. I don't know how many. 

Dema: I'm so curious if you played them in order or started with DA2. The "best order" to experience the DA universe is an interesting debate.

Izzy: No, I played them in order. Personally, I think it'd be strange to play them out of order, at least for the first time, because of the way the stories tie into each other. What I did do was play DA2 twice before I played Inquisition because on my first gameplay I didn't really check the writing desk (there wasn't anything like that in DAO and I was still new to games more complex than The Sims) and I missed Fenris entirely. Detail: he's one of my fave companions now

Dema: I'm pretty sure I missed Sera on my first DA:I playthrough. It's wild how much it impacts the story, if you miss a companion!

Izzy: Yes! I mean, it's a whole arc and a lot of banter you just don't get. Fenris has so much good banter!! I truly can't believe I missed him.

Dema: When it comes to the DA fandom, would you consider yourself a gamer first and a writer or reader second, or something else?

Izzy: That's a really difficult question. I'm not exactly a big gamer. Like, I'm not a completionist and I mostly play on casual because my real focus is the story being told. So I guess what I truly am is a "reader of the game" lol. Though I have been getting more into combat strategizing and stuff like that for DA2, because you can only play something on casual so many times before it loses the appeal. If you'll allow me an anecdote, to paint a picture of the kind of "gamer" I am: one time I was playing DAI in my brother's room (his computer), and he walks in, sees me with a vein popping on my forehead, stupidly focused, staring unflinchingly at the screen, and asks "what the f* are you doing?" I was in the undercroft tinting armors. 

And then, after that, I'm a writer.

Dema: This story is very relatable, lol. You've touched on the narrative structure of the franchise a bit and I'd love to hear more about that epic to tragedy to epic format, and why that resonated. Since you wrote a whole paper on it, just distill it into like four sentences, that shouldn't be hard right??? (I'm sorry)

Izzy: Oh, god. Ok. I'll try not to get too carried away :V

Dema: Please feel free. Here is a box to stand on, and a megaphone.

Izzy:  So. Uh. The Greeks, right? Those guys. Aristotle, more specifically. The Poetics and all that. I think DAO and DAI follow the formula of classic epics: you have this larger than life hero going on a very important quest to save the world. Notice that those games are longer than DA2, kind of like an odyssey, if you will. There are many quests, many steps to the journey before the hero can rest. It's glorious and grand, regardless of whether the hero survives or not. Now DA2 follows the formula of tragedies even closer than the other games follow the epic. And I mean step by step aristotelian formula. You have Hawke, who rises into fame and fortune. The rising movement is very important, because you later have the downfall. He gets fame and riches, but everything comes with a cost, usually the lives of his family. So in DA2 you have this constant rise and fall movement, leading up to the end where (if you defend the mages, at least) Hawke is forced to leave behind everything they spend 7+ years building. They lose everything. In the essay I compared it to Oedipus: he becomes king and etc, there's this looming prophecy (remember Flemmeth when you do the amulet ritual), and in the end everything falls apart. That's as summarized as I can get lol. And Hawke starts out as a nobody! And the game is actually divided in acts!!!

Dema: I read a LOT of classics/Homer in undergrad and I love this. Ten out of Ten. Thank you! I could honestly listen to you talk about that epic/tragedy structure for another hour but alas, we are out of time. To close the interview, and just for fun: Can you come up with a buzzfeed-style, misleading, click-bait title for your fic? Without giving anything major away that would identify you lol

Izzy: Ok, so, this is as vague as I managed: This is how local political unrest can help your love life (Also, I just realized I went out to get wifi and did the whole interview wearing a DA2 sweater. It was a complete accident, I swear)

Dema: AMAZING. Please show me the sweater!!

Izzy: The culprit:

Dema: I love it. Thank you for chatting with me, Izzy!

[theonlyendersgamefan]

I hate that it takes 4 books for the bean saga to go from “guys it’s he’s just like ender I promise. Remember ender? You liked him right? He’s just like ender” to genuinely good well written political thriller.

Orson Scott card developed this chronic illness sometime in the early 1990s which rendered him unable to write more than one compelling story line in a book at a time. There were experimental treatments done while he was writting shadow of the giant but they had to stop due to funding issues. His books weren’t selling very well.

Best example of this is actually outside of the bean saga entirely. Children of the mind, universally considered to be the worst of the original quartet and I would argue that it’s one of his weakest books of all time. Children of the mind actually has several compelling premises. 4 to be exact. Way to many for any to be well developed enough as to be compelling. You have Jane trying to find a new body, and peter and wang-wu planet hoping to influence government, and ender trying to get back with novinha, and everyone else trying to find thé descoladorians.

Only the intergalactic odyssey feels like it was given any real care. The other story lines feel thrown together like they exist purely to finish up the series and put a bow on top and say “here publishing house I did the thing” which ofcourse, is the case. In the post script of the children of the mind audiobook there is an extra from orson Scott card, he says that xenocide and children of the mind were originally going to be one book but it ended up being too long. He offered his publishers to make it into two books and the publishing house seeing an opportunity to sell twice Samantha books, readily agreed. Now this is immediately visible in the actual book. For one children of the mind does not have a large time skip like the other two sequels do. The story takes place immediately after the end of the xenocide. For another thing, after a certain point about half way through the book you notice and realize that this is the end of the series, even if you haven’t already known, and your think to yourself “why is this still going on”. And the answer is because Scott card hasint bothered making this one story. He thought “what haven’t I wrapped up” and tossed it all together.

I liked all the “moments” in children of the mind. I don’t think there are any chapters you can point to and say “this was poorly written”. I cried at some parts there was no lack of passion and emotion in the moments problem is there’s no narrative for the moments to hang on to and so unlike Enders game and speaker for the dead and yes to some extent xenocide the moments don’t blend together to form a story but rather the story has to hold the moments up to cover all of its holes.

What was a talking about? Oh right SHADOW OF THE GIANT IS SO PEAK. The bean saga had the same issues children of the mind had. Yes, bean growing up and his experience with battle school is an interesting idea but so much of the book left me thinking “so what?” Too much of it exists purely to retroactively justify beans position in Enders game. Then the next two books consist of the characters just doing incredible things without any explanation. Peter keeps talking about “his contacts” and graffs resources are seemingly endless unless of course it deals with anything plot related in which case “minister of colonization” is an empty title.

I would much rather read the bean saga from Achilles or alai or hot soups perspective. Why? Because orson Scott car abuses the fact that they are not POV characters to totally disregard any semblance of plausibility. Sure s story of a bunch of child geniuses ruling the world won’t be realistic but Jesus he just pulls whatever to get Achilles out of trouble until suddenly he’s stupid enough to trust one guy, who has known been ten times longer than he has know Achilles, to actually be loyal. Achilles de flandre, the most paranoid boy on planet earth, shot dead because he invited bean to come in with a gun. I would pay good money for a book on Achilles but it would have the same issues as Enders shadow there’d be to much shifting as Orson Scott card tries to fit Achilles where he is supposed to be in Enders shadow. But still it would be worth it just to hear his internal monologue, we really only get 4-5 moments where Achilles is interacting with Petra and I need to know what he was thinking every time. Why did he bring her to the India Pakistan meeting? Why open the plane door? Ajirodndej

This problem goes away entirely in shadow of the giant even a bit before. In shadow puppets we actually get important internal monologue from a character which is not bean or Petra. It’s hot soup, navigating Chinese bureaucracy. It’s boring and clever and I love it. It’s the kind of stuff you saw in Enders game small but totally reasonable conclusion based on real relevant information that existed before this very moment. In the actual book shadow of the giant, we see that alai hadn’t actually maneuvered his way into ruling the entire Islamic world, he was being used as a figure head, presumably by one of the high rankers who had formed the original caliphate. We are shown that the Islamic countries had a loose alliance and that alai, when brought back from Russia, was a mediator between these countries, eventually his prestige as one of Enders gishe and also having proved his unbiasedness, was pronounced caliph. This back tracks on the vague insinuation that alai had done what Peter did but just in a couple of years. We also get to see the bridge goddess thing with virlomi play out and the people that hot soup rule over as emperor act differently than the people that virlomi rules over as goddess of India and they act differently than the people alai rules over as caliph. The fact that we get to seem more of other people help’s this book out so much. We get a wider view of the world and so it doesn’t feel out of nowhere when they world Changes. It feels like an intelligent move made by competent people and not characters who exist purely to get the last page as quickly as possible. It’s genuinely like a different person wrote this book. Or like orson Scott card sent the bean saga back in time 2 decades and let his 40yo self write it.

[literary-illuminati]

2024 Book Review #66 – A History of What Comes Next by Sylvain Neuvel

This was a book I bought entirely off the author being at a con I attended and being endearingly awkward in several panels including a long, rambling description of the weird bit of science that inspired it. So I went into this with no real expectations other than the hope it would be entertainingly off-kilter or different from the buzzy and award-nominated stuff I’ve been reading a lot of this year. Which it was! Something of a mess otherwise, sadly, but hardly the worst thing I’ve read recently.

The story follows the Kibsu, a lineage of human-appearing (probably) aliens notable for a) giving birth exclusively to identical clones of themselves, b) being lightly superhuman in both mental acuity and competence with violence, c) a hundred-generation-old family ethos to guide humanity to the stars before some mostly-forgotten doom consumes them all, and also to never have more than two of them (a mother-daughter pair) alive for long and d) the fact that there’s something hunting them across history, cutting a bloody swathe through the lives they leave behind.

The book is, specifically, about the point in history where that mission has suddenly become actually plausible – starting with WW2 and continuing into the early space race. With many significant digressions, the story follows a particular mother-daughter pair as they assist with Operation Paperclip and do everything can to start a Space Race, all while the Tracker hunting them closes in, and as they look around the world of the 1940s and ‘50s and wonder if the species is truly worth spending their and their descendents’ lives trying to save.

While, that’s the plot, anyway. This is one of those novels that gives the overwhelming impression of mostly being the vehicle for all the random trivia and anecdotes the author discovered researching for it and thought were cool (and the book was researched – there’s a ‘further reading’ chapter at the back). Hence the constant shifting in focus from the logistics of Operation Paperclip and the postwar anticommunist witch hunts in the USA to the biology of the Amazon Molly to the story of Olga of Kiev to the early study of atmospheric carbon levels to- you get the idea. Now personally I found this all quite charming, but I can’t say it does much for the pacing or coherence of the book as a novel. Narrativally the whole book is a little bit of a mess, and the digressions into exposition on the wild goose chases of the early soviet space program aren’t helping.

Formally and stylistically the whole book is refreshingly different than anything I’ve read recently. Incredibly close first person POV – essentially just running internal monologues, or I suppose real time diary entries? Different grammer for dialogue and punctuation than I’m really used to, too. There are a few cases where it’s played for tension or horror as you’re left guessing at whose head you’re in or waiting for enough clues to piece together what they’re actually doing. It works far less well for action scenes, though – unfortunate, since that’s what the book’s climax is.

There’s a current – incredibly over-represented among the sort of people who write science fiction novels but present to a lesser degree elsewhere as well – that considers space travel and extra-planetary colonization the ultimate goal of human civilization, the telos which all of history has been driving towards. (Nowadays they mostly seem to be one more subgroup of people nostalgic for the ‘60s, but they’re certainly still around). That current, more than anything else, is what the book seems to be in conversation with – the contrast between the beautiful sounding dream of ‘escaping to the stars’ and the mess of great power politics and intercontinental missiles and recruiting nazis that made up ost of the actual business of developing space travel. There’s several sequels, and I assume the theme’s developed in some more depth through them.

I’m not sure I’m actually going to get around to reading them anytime soon, though. This was refreshingly different and perfectly readable, but nothing about it really left me craving more. .