#if you thought i was crazy about them last year well…
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There’s nothing I love more than waking up to some sweet, salty RadioApple on a Sunday morning.
VEXI 🙏🏻❤️🔥 You captured them sooo perfectly! I love Lucifer being the wallflower at the party with Alastor being unable to resist his perfect opportunity. I just know that deep down Lucifer was so relieved to have his company hehe ♥️ thank you for feeding into my RadioApple delusion, and I hope you enjoy my mindless screaming below the cut 🤭
HAPPY NEW YEAR, LITTLE DEVILS! 🥂
✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧
The hotel gleamed with festivity, gold and black streamers curled from the ceiling like gilded tendrils, shimmering in the soft glow of twinkling lights. Balloons bobbed gently in the air, brushing against a bold, loopy-lettered banner that proclaimed “Happy New Year!” with a cheerfulness Lucifer found difficult to match.
I’M LOCKED IN AND IT’S JUST THE FIRST PARAGRAPH
Lucifer stood apart, forcing a smile to curve his lips, though it felt unnatural. His posture was regal, his tailored suit immaculate, but his fingers curled into tight fists, betraying the serenity he was trying to portray. He took a steadying breath, letting the bubbling laughter of the crowd wash over him, though it did little to ease the tightening in his chest.
our poor luci is such a fish out of water when it comes to frivolity 😭
The longer he stood in the Hazbin Hotel—the hotel his daughter had built, with a certain insufferable demon at her side—the more his certainty began to erode. That bedrock of disdain he had clung to for millennia softened, crumbling into something far more dangerous.
Warmth.
And fear.
AAHHHHHH YESSS!! HE’S STARTING TO CARE!! 🥹
For even now, deep within him, that small flicker of reverence for the Lord’s judgment remained. And if the Lord had deemed these souls unworthy—if they were cast into Hell for their sins—then who was Lucifer to question that divine decree?
you’re the king of hell actually, my darling 💅🏻❤️🔥
The voice rang out, sharp and lilting, slicing through the festive air like a knife.
Lucifer’s jaw clenched.
MY FAVORITE REACTION
Alastor stood by Charlie’s side, grinning with that perpetual, unnerving smile that Lucifer despised. He hated the way the demon’s presence filled the room, commanding attention without even trying. He hated the way Alastor’s voice carried—warm and charming, yet laced with a subtle undercurrent of menace.
someone’s been dwelling on a certain overlord 🎶♥️
He had spent countless hours pondering it, obsessing over the enigma that was Alastor. He observed him from afar, dissecting his every action, every word, searching for the sinister ulterior motive that surely lurked beneath the surface.
WHAT DID I JUST SAY??
The sinner—was his name Dusk? Musk?—tilted his head, offering a glass of something dark and potent.
case in point, Luci only remembers two names in that hotel: Charlie and Alastor 😏
For all his power, Lucifer suddenly felt like an outsider—a relic of an ancient past that no longer fit in this strange new world his daughter was trying to create.
LUCIIII 🥺
Husk, perched behind the bar with his perpetual deadpan expression, barely blinked. With a sigh that carried the weight of someone who had long since stopped caring about life’s absurdities, the cat demon grabbed a bottle from the shelf.
HUSK!! I saw this perfectly in my mind omggg 😂♥️ PERFECTION
He tried to look comfortable, but the stiff set of his shoulders and the restless tapping of his fingers against the bar betrayed him.
my socially anxious king ;A;
That telltale crackle of a radio tuning in, followed by a voice as smooth as honey and twice and poisonous.
OUR KING OF RED FLAGS 😮💨❤️🔥
Lucifer didn’t need to look up to know who it was. He’d recognize that voice anywhere.
he certainly would, it’s committed to memory now 👀
“Indulging in spirits alone? How very… tragic.” Alastor pressed a clawed hand to his chest, tilting his head as if he were genuinely saddened by the sight. But his eyes gleamed with amusement, the downturn of his brows exaggerated to the point of mockery.
BE STILL, MY HEART. MY PERFECT BITCH 😩♥️
“I’m not alone,” Lucifer declared. “I’m drinking with my good friend, Dusk!”
But as his gaze flicked toward Husk, his smirk faltered.
The cat demon was gone.
GOD DAMN IT HUSK! 😂🙈
“Ohhh, I see,” Alastor drawled, his tone dripping with faux understanding. His eyes sparkled with mischievous delight as he leaned in, his elbows resting on the bar. “Why, I must join you two! What a charming little gathering this will be!”
AND HE’S PLAYING INTO THE BIT!! ALASTOR YOU BEAUTIFUL FIEND
“Surely, she would want to drink with her dear old dad… in front of all her friends. You wouldn’t embarrass her at all, now, would you?”
Alastor, there are kinder ways to say you want Lucifer to stay with you at the bar 😭
Lucifer turned slowly, his gaze locking with Alastor’s. The Radio Demon’s grin was insufferable, his legs pressed neatly together, his posture prim and poised. One hand rested lightly against his chest, claws tapping rhythmically as he batted his lashes in mock innocence.
pretty as a picture 🫠 (even though he’s being so fucking rude right now)
“I’m the King of Hell. If anything—” Lucifer slammed the empty glass down on the bar with a satisfying clink after draining the rest of his drink, his glare sharp despite the creeping warmth in his cheeks. “I’m a cool dad.”
that’s the spirit darling 😭
“Oh please,” he scoffed. “Look at you, Bambi. Probably can’t hold your own liquor. What’s the matter? Worried I’ll out drink you, and you’ll have to stumble your way back to your room?” He drained his second cup with a flourish, slamming it down dramatically.
hehehe let the games begin 😈 I looovee when Luci’s superiority comes out
“Fuck you,” he muttered, and with a smooth flick of his wrist, he drained his glass in one long gulp. He slammed it down next to Lucifer’s, the sound ringing out like a challenge. Without hesitation, he refilled both glasses.
HE’S ON CLOUD NINE 💘
The crowd’s voices rose in unison, laughter and excitement filling the air. Lucifer blinked, his gaze drifting toward the centre of the room where Charlie stood, radiant as ever, her hands cupping Maggie’s face as they shared a tender kiss. Their joy was infectious, their love shining bright amidst the darkness of Hell.
CHAGGIE MY BELOVED!! (also I rest my case — Lucifer only knows TWO NAMES in that fucking hotel)
Around them, couples leaned into each other—smiles, laughter, kisses shared beneath the glittering fireworks bursting overhead. Even Dusk and Angel Dust were entwined in a shadowed corner, their silhouettes barely visible in the dim light.
…okay THREE NAMES (but who wouldn’t adore Angel??)
Alastor sat impassively, watching the scene unfold with a distant expression. His glass dangled from his fingers, untouched, his gaze flickering from couple to couple.
For once, the smile on his face seemed… softer.
SENTIMENTAL ALASTOR WILL BE THE DEATH OF MEEEE
Before Lucifer could think better of it, his hand shot out, grabbing Alastor by the lapels.
AND LUCIFER TOO APPARENTLY AHHH!!!!!
Alastor’s muscles tensed beneath Lucifer’s grip, his entire body going rigid. For a moment, he didn’t move—didn’t react. But then, slowly, his fingers curled around Lucifer’s wrist, holding him in place.
And Alastor leaned in.
AAAAHHHHH YESSSS!!! YESSS!!! 🥂🎉❤️🔥
“You’re a… you’re a…” Lucifer’s voice slurred, the words tumbling over each other as the room tilted around him. He hiccuped, his vision swimming. “God, you’re a shit kisser.”
ONE OF MY FAVORITE HEADCANONS. VEXIIII I CAN’T!! _:(´ཀ`」 ∠):
“You’re a terrible kisser too.”
Lucifer’s breath hitched.
“But maybe…”
Fingers brushed against his hair, light as a feather.
“We could fix that.”
IT’S A DREAM COME TRUE ALL AROUND!! Or at least for me and Alastor — Lucifer has a little bit of catching up to do hehe 🤭
Fifth Kiss: Endearing
A/N: Bro. I can't write RadioApple. I'm sorry. I suck at writing this ship //don't perceive me!
SUMMARY: A drunken showdown between Lucifer and Alastor spirals into something messy and impulsive—one filled with tension, stubborn pride, and lingering questions neither is ready to answer.
The hotel gleamed with festivity, gold and black streamers curled from the ceiling like gilded tendrils, shimmering in the soft glow of twinkling lights. Balloons bobbed gently in the air, brushing against a bold, loopy-lettered banner that proclaimed “Happy New Year!” with a cheerfulness Lucifer found difficult to match.
Charlie’s voice floated through the lobby—a sweet, hopeful tune carrying the innocence of someone untouched by the weight of eons. She twirled through the crowd of sinners, bright-eyed and beaming, her very presence a beacon of joy.
Lucifer stood apart, forcing a smile to curve his lips, though it felt unnatural. His posture was regal, his tailored suit immaculate, but his fingers curled into tight fists, betraying the serenity he was trying to portray. He took a steadying breath, letting the bubbling laughter of the crowd wash over him, though it did little to ease the tightening in his chest.
It had been centuries since he allowed himself to be surrounded by this many souls—this many sinners. He had grown used to the isolation of his estate, cocooned in the quiet gloom of his own thoughts.
But here… Here he stood, watching them laugh, mingle, and toast to a future that none of them deserved.
Charlie’s smile caught his eye again, radiant and carefree. Her happiness was genuine, untainted by the darkness surrounding her. It made his heart ache with a feeling he couldn’t name.
Conflict.
For all her joy, for all her kindness, Charlie’s dream clashed with the immutable truth etched into Lucifer’s very being. These sinners—these wretched souls—had squandered his gift of freedom, twisting it into unspeakable acts of cruelty, selfishness, and destruction.
And yet…
His gaze swept across the room, catching fleeting moments of tenderness and camaraderie. Sinners offering each other drinks. Laughing. Dancing. Holding hands.
The longer he stood in the Hazbin Hotel—the hotel his daughter had built, with a certain insufferable demon at her side—the more his certainty began to erode. That bedrock of disdain he had clung to for millennia softened, crumbling into something far more dangerous.
Warmth.
And fear.
For even now, deep within him, that small flicker of reverence for the Lord’s judgment remained. And if the Lord had deemed these souls unworthy—if they were cast into Hell for their sins—then who was Lucifer to question that divine decree?
“Hahahaha! Oh, Charlie!”
The voice rang out, sharp and lilting, slicing through the festive air like a knife.
Lucifer’s jaw clenched.
Alastor.
His eyes flicked to the source of the sound, his expression cooling into a mask of indifference, though every fibre of his being bristled at the sight of the Radio Demon.
Alastor stood by Charlie’s side, grinning with that perpetual, unnerving smile that Lucifer despised. He hated the way the demon’s presence filled the room, commanding attention without even trying. He hated the way Alastor’s voice carried—warm and charming, yet laced with a subtle undercurrent of menace.
Most of all, he hated the way Charlie looked at him.
Her arms were wrapped around Alastor’s middle in a warm hug, her face alight with gratitude as she thanked him for helping with the decorations. And for a brief, fleeting moment, Lucifer caught a shift in Alastor’s expression—a softening of his crimson eyes, a gentleness that didn’t belong in someone so steeped in human greed and depravity.
That was the problem.
The thorn buried deep in Lucifer’s mind.
Charlie adored him. She trusted him. And try as he might, Lucifer could not understand why.
He had spent countless hours pondering it, obsessing over the enigma that was Alastor. He observed him from afar, dissecting his every action, every word, searching for the sinister ulterior motive that surely lurked beneath the surface.
But the more he watched, the more that motive eluded him.
It was maddening.
“Want a drink?”
A gravelly voice pulled him from his thoughts.
Lucifer turned, his gaze landing on a feline demon with dark fur and bright, mischievous eyes. The sinner—was his name Dusk? Musk?—tilted his head, offering a glass of something dark and potent.
Lucifer blinked, momentarily thrown off balance by the unexpected offer.
He glanced around the room, taking in the lively scene once more. The sinners danced and drank, sharing laughter and joy with one another.
For all his power, Lucifer suddenly felt like an outsider—a relic of an ancient past that no longer fit in this strange new world his daughter was trying to create.
With a soft sigh, he accepted the drink.
Perhaps… blending in wouldn’t hurt.
“Y-Yeah…” Lucifer’s voice cracked, rasping out with a dryness that betrayed his discomfort. His shoulders twitched upward, hitching in embarrassment as he coughed to clear his throat. Straightening his posture, he tried again, forcing his lips into a wide grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“I mean… Yeah! Hit on me, bad boy!” he added, waggling his eyebrows in an exaggerated manner, hoping the humour would ease the awkward tension creeping up his spine.
The response was less than enthusiastic.
Husk, perched behind the bar with his perpetual deadpan expression, barely blinked. With a sigh that carried the weight of someone who had long since stopped caring about life’s absurdities, the cat demon grabbed a bottle from the shelf. Without a word, he poured a generous amount of amber liquid into a glass and slid it toward Lucifer.
The glass made a soft clink as it hit the bar, and Lucifer stared at it for a long moment. He took a breath—deep, steadying—before lowering himself onto the barstool with an air of forced nonchalance. His movements were slow, deliberate, as though he could trick himself into believing he belonged here. That he was part of the scene.
He tried to look comfortable, but the stiff set of his shoulders and the restless tapping of his fingers against the bar betrayed him.
Lifting the glass, he swirled the liquid inside before bringing it to his lips. But before he could take that first sip, a familiar and grating sound sliced through the air.
Static.
That telltale crackle of a radio tuning in, followed by a voice as smooth as honey and twice as poisonous.
“My, my, my…”
Lucifer didn’t need to look up to know who it was. He’d recognize that voice anywhere.
Alastor appeared beside him, his ever-present grin stretched wide across his face. Those crimson eyes—bright and unrelenting—immediately flicked to the glass in Lucifer’s hand.
The Radio Demon chuckled, a low, mocking sound that grated on Lucifer’s nerves.
“Indulging in spirits alone? How very… tragic.” Alastor pressed a clawed hand to his chest, tilting his head as if he were genuinely saddened by the sight. But his eyes gleamed with amusement, the downturn of his brows exaggerated to the point of mockery.
Lucifer clenched his jaw, forcing a tight laugh. He lifted the glass to his lips and took a loud, deliberate sip, letting the burn of the alcohol distract him from the irritation bubbling beneath his skin.
Setting the glass down with a soft thunk, he smirked, gesturing toward Husk with a flourish of his hand.
“I’m not alone,” Lucifer declared. “I’m drinking with my good friend, Dusk!”
But as his gaze flicked toward Husk, his smirk faltered.
The cat demon was gone.
Lucifer’s eyes scanned the bar, spotting Husk on the other side of the room, deep in conversation with that obnoxious spider sinner.
Damn it.
“Ohhh, I see,” Alastor drawled, his tone dripping with faux understanding. His eyes sparkled with mischievous delight as he leaned in, his elbows resting on the bar. “Why, I must join you two! What a charming little gathering this will be!”
With a snap of his fingers, Alastor conjured a glass of his own—dark, swirling liquid just two fingers width. He plucked the glass from the air, holding it delicately between his fingers as if it were the finest wine.
Lucifer scoffed, rolling his eyes as he glanced back toward Husk, silently willing the cat to return. Husk didn’t even glance his way.
Damn it all.
“I’m good, thanks,” Lucifer muttered, pushing back from the bar. He stood, brushing imaginary dust from his suit as he straightened his bow tie. “Actually, I’m going to drink with Char-Char.” His voice took on a haughty tone as he lifted his chin.
He turned on his heel, fully prepared to march across the room and join his daughter.
But he only made it a few steps before Alastor’s voice stopped him in his tracks.
“Oh, my dear king, of course! Charlie would absolutely love that.”
Lucifer froze.
There was something in Alastor’s tone—a sly, knowing edge that sent a prickle of unease down his spine.
“Surely, she would want to drink with her dear old dad… in front of all her friends. You wouldn’t embarrass her at all, now, would you?”
Lucifer turned slowly, his gaze locking with Alastor’s. The Radio Demon’s grin was insufferable, his legs pressed neatly together, his posture prim and poised. One hand rested lightly against his chest, claws tapping rhythmically as he batted his lashes in mock innocence.
Lucifer’s lips pressed into a thin line. His fingers twitched at his sides, itching to wipe that smug expression off Alastor’s face.
This was what the bastard was good at—digging under his skin, twisting the knife with precise, calculated jabs.
Because that was the one thing Lucifer could never fully shake.
That lingering doubt.
His relationship with Charlie had been reforged, rebuilt from the ruins of past mistakes. But there was still a gap between them—a fragile, unspoken tension that neither of them could fully bridge.
And Alastor knew it.
He knew.
Lucifer’s hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms as he forced a smile onto his face.
“I’m sure Charlie wouldn’t mind,” he said, his voice steady but tight.
Alastor’s grin widened, and his eyes glinted with triumph.
“Of course not,” Alastor purred. “After all, she adores you… doesn’t she?”
The words hung in the air like a challenge.
Lucifer swallowed the retort burning on his tongue, his gaze narrowing.
This was their dance—a delicate, dangerous game of push and pull.
And tonight, Lucifer wasn’t sure who was winning.
“I’m the King of Hell. If anything—” Lucifer slammed the empty glass down on the bar with a satisfying clink after draining the rest of his drink, his glare sharp despite the creeping warmth in his cheeks. “I’m a cool dad.”
The bitter burn of the liquor scorched his throat on the way down, but he fought the wince threatening to crack his mask.
Alastor’s brow arched in amusement. With a lazy snap of his fingers, the empty glass refilled itself, the liquid sloshing inside with a rich amber glow. He lifted his own glass to his lips, sipping delicately, crimson eyes watching Lucifer over the rim.
“Oh, don’t tell me you’re a lightweight.” His voice was sweet poison, smooth and mocking. As he set his glass down, his lips curled into that insufferable grin. “I understand now. Well, hurry along then.”
He turned his back, but Lucifer didn’t miss the subtle twitch of his ears—the faintest flicker of anticipation.
Lucifer knew he was being baited. He knew. But something about Alastor’s smug confidence gnawed at him. The unspoken implication that Lucifer was weaker, lesser, somehow beneath him—it stung more than it should have.
With a low growl, Lucifer plopped back onto the barstool, crossing his arms as he leaned forward.
“Oh please,” he scoffed. “Look at you, Bambi. Probably can’t hold your own liquor. What’s the matter? Worried I’ll out drink you, and you’ll have to stumble your way back to your room?” He drained his second cup with a flourish, slamming it down dramatically.
Alastor’s forced laugh echoed between them, his ears flicking downward for a moment before springing back up.
“Fuck you,” he muttered, and with a smooth flick of his wrist, he drained his glass in one long gulp. He slammed it down next to Lucifer’s, the sound ringing out like a challenge. Without hesitation, he refilled both glasses.
And so it began—a quiet war of stubborn pride.
They drank.
And drank.
Somewhere along the way, their barbs blurred into slurred insults and lazy grins. At one point, Lucifer declared with a grand sweep of his arms that their drinks were child’s play and produced a bottle of Hell’s finest liquor—the kind that made even the most hardened demons wince.
Alastor’s grin faltered for the briefest second.
“Want to stick to your rye, or are you man enough for a real drink?” Lucifer taunted, his words slurring just slightly.
Alastor’s eyes narrowed to slits. Without a word, he shoved his glass toward Lucifer, the demand clear.
The first sip hit like fire, burning all the way down. Lucifer gritted his teeth, refusing to show weakness.
Cup after cup, they kept going.
Time slipped away, the world softening at the edges. Sounds blurred, the buzz of conversation fading into the rhythmic pulse of his heartbeat. Lights danced across Lucifer’s vision, bright and hazy.
Somewhere in the haze, he heard the countdown begin.
“Ten! Nine! Eight!”
The crowd’s voices rose in unison, laughter and excitement filling the air. Lucifer blinked, his gaze drifting toward the centre of the room where Charlie stood, radiant as ever, her hands cupping Maggie’s face as they shared a tender kiss. Their joy was infectious, their love shining bright amidst the darkness of Hell.
Around them, couples leaned into each other—smiles, laughter, kisses shared beneath the glittering fireworks bursting overhead. Even Dusk and Angel Dust were entwined in a shadowed corner, their silhouettes barely visible in the dim light.
Lucifer glanced to his side.
Alastor sat impassively, watching the scene unfold with a distant expression. His glass dangled from his fingers, untouched, his gaze flickering from couple to couple.
For once, the smile on his face seemed… softer.
Before Lucifer could think better of it, his hand shot out, grabbing Alastor by the lapels.
“What are you—”
Lucifer crushed their lips together.
The kiss was sudden, clumsy, tasting of alcohol and bitterness.
Alastor’s muscles tensed beneath Lucifer’s grip, his entire body going rigid. For a moment, he didn’t move—didn’t react. But then, slowly, his fingers curled around Lucifer’s wrist, holding him in place.
And Alastor leaned in.
There was a strange desperation to the way their lips pressed together—a messy, unspoken challenge. Lucifer felt the sharp scrape of teeth as Alastor nipped at his lower lip, drawing blood.
He hissed, pulling back with a glare.
“You’re a… you’re a…” Lucifer’s voice slurred, the words tumbling over each other as the room tilted around him. He hiccuped, his vision swimming. “God, you’re a shit kisser.”
Alastor snorted, his grin twisting into something more genuine—more amused.
Lucifer took one stumbling step backward, the world spinning beneath his feet.
Then he crumpled.
The floor was cold against his cheek, the distant sounds of laughter and celebration fading into a dull hum. His body felt heavy, warmth spreading through his veins as the alcohol took its toll.
As his eyes fluttered shut, the edges of consciousness slipping away, he heard a voice—soft, almost gentle.
“You’re a terrible kisser too.”
Lucifer’s breath hitched.
“But maybe…”
Fingers brushed against his hair, light as a feather.
“We could fix that.”
Darkness pulled him under, but the faint echo of Alastor’s voice lingered in his mind, teasing and...
Endearing.
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#it’s a new year to love radioapple y’all#if you thought i was crazy about them last year well…#BUCKLE UP#cuz my resolution was to be WORSE#radioapple#radioapple fan fiction#alastor x lucifer#alastor x lucifer fan fiction#hazbin hotel fan fiction#article by mink
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🚴♀️🚴♂️ So, you're interested in starting watching cycling in 2025 (I hope), but have no idea where to start? 🚴♂️🚴♀️
Before the start of the road cycling season this year, I thought I'd post some information for people completely new to the sport. You might have seen some Tumblr posts going crazy about men and women in tight lycra, or watched a bit of the Tour de France on TV once, or maybe this post found you some other way! Let's get to it.
When does it happen?
Cycling doesn't have a set timetable nor are races only at weekends. It's mostly the same each year, but there have been some changes over the hundred-plus years professional cycling has been around.
The WorldTour (highest level of pro cycling, more about that in a later post) season lasts officially from January until October, with the full women's calendar for 2025 looking like this:
And the men's like this:
Don't try to watch all of them. Or do, I'm just a Tumblr blogger hoping more people get interested in this great sport 🤷
Okay then, which races should I watch?
The answers to this are many and varied; every list of 'best races to watch' will have at least one cycling fan clamouring 'But HOW could you ignore [x]!?'
In terms of basic introduction to the sport, I think this would give a solid season-wide grounding:
Five one-day races have mostly arbitrarily been declared The Monuments: Milano-Sanremo, Paris-Roubaix, de Ronde van Vlaanderen, Liège-Bastogne-Liège, and Il Lombardia. (A more detailed post about these will be coming later in the season). All but Lombardia have men's and women's versions, with Milano-Sanremo Donne running for the first time in 2025, though Trofeo Alfredo Binda is a more well-established women's race in a similar region at a similar time.
Each has its own quirks, history, and favour different kinds of riders. The big names (except the pure stage racers) will be there.
I'd also recommend one of the early-season one-week stage races, Paris-Nice or Tirreno-Adriatico. They run at the same time, for one week in March, and present the first opportunity for the top stage racers to stretch their legs (another post about different types of riders will come). On the women's side, Itzulia Women or Tour de Suisse.
One of the Grand Tours is in my view, essential: Giro d'Italia, Vuelta a España, or the big one, the Tour de France
If you want, you can disregard this entire section and just watch the Tour. It's the biggest race there is, the most-covered, and teams bring their best riders in their best shape. It's a massive cultural event. If you take nothing from this post other than following a little closer in July, then it has been a success in my book.
How can I watch cycling?
Cycling has a serious lack of easily accessible coverage. Every race organiser has different TV rights arrangements, varying MASSIVELY from country to country, with some having free-to-air coverage of most races on national television but some having no option other than the paid services Discovery+ and Eurosport.
For an international suggestion there is a lovely site: tiz [dash] cycling [dot] io has free (!) livestreams of every race you could feasibly ever want to watch, and a back catalogue covering most of the last decade +
5-15 minute highlight videos from YouTube channels such as Eurosport, FloBikes etc. are also available a few hours after a race finishes! The Tour de France has its own channel with decent highlights and interviews.
See you later in the season!
#cycling#pro cycling#pro cycling primers#road cycling#sports#sportsblr#pro cycling primers: general#sports tumblr
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1:31 AM
they moved the bed by the window two weeks ago, for something to do, for harry to watch the birds from. for them to feel closer to the world as much as the house can afford them.
james used to put two-way soundproofing charms in his room, on the curtains around his four-poster. he needed the quiet to sleep, and he needed sleep to win the quidditch match the next day. lily used to put the wireless on to drown out the world, the more mellow weird sisters b-sides echoing in the background of her dreams.
now, they welcome the clatter. they eavesdrop on their neighbors, revel in them singing and fighting and discussing, live in the pauses of their lives, in their leaving the door and coming back home and settling back in. tonight, crickets chirp and an owl hoots close by, and lily closes her eyes in content, ventures back out to the world through these sounds. sinks further into james's embrace. her head on his chest and their hands laced together. new moon tonight, but the street light permeates the room through the window. half of james's arm is bright orange.
his gryffindor hoodie is old and soft and familiar. he is warm. he is home.
"the cat learned how to knead," she tells him, eyes still closed.
james shifts. "huh?"
"the cat made biscuits today. on the couch."
"out of nowhere? are you sure?" he asks, in awe and disbelief. "it's been two years!"
"i know."
"and we researched."
a lifetime ago: going to a muggle library in muggle clothes, lily finding him so fucking cute in that environment and feeling the need to kiss him every two seconds. but also reading there that cats who get taken too early from their mothers don't learn how to knead. that some cats just don't do it. they were worried about the cat (that's just the cat's name, sirius named him) not ever doing it, but it turned out it's normal. but today —
"i had the same reaction," she says. "he seemed hesitant at first, so i thought he was just scratching it again, but it was actual kneading! he did it, like, a good five minutes."
"did you watch the entire time?"
she chuckles. "i burned my lunch, yeah."
"i can't believe i missed that."
"i can burn it again tomorrow."
he reaches up to pinch her nose. "the cat."
"you needed to see sirius."
quieter: "i did, yeah." it was driving him crazy. the house, not being able to fight. she could tell. besides, she felt it, too.
"he'll do it again," she reassures him. "he did it quite a few times after that, before you came home."
"why do you think is he only doing it now? he has no one to learn from here."
"i don't know. maybe it took him two years to feel comfortable with us?"
"oh my god, he likes godric's hollow? he likes it so much he literally summoned his ancestral abilities?"
well, at least one of us likes it here, she thinks, but doesn't say. she laughs — he does, too — and then they go quiet, and she knows he's thinking the same. knows he also chooses not to say it.
"what did you have for lunch?" he remembers to ask, and it's when he does this, asks these mundane questions about her in a way that makes it seem like it's the most important, most interesting things in the world, that she feels the biggest about him. that she feels a sudden surge of optimism, like she's bigger than the prophecy, than the war.
she says, reeling from the intensity of it, trying to stay in the pace of the conversation, "bacon." she feels like laughing at the whiplash. sometimes she legitimately thinks she's going crazy. "and, um. the last of the sourdough from remus."
"we should ask him for some more. that was really good."
"agreed."
"you okay?" of course he notices.
"yeah. sorry. i'm just — feeling it again."
"the house?" which is to mean everything that comes with it. the dread. the frustration. the hopelessness and uncertainty and unfairness of it all.
"yeah."
he holds her tighter, presses a kiss on the top of her head. "it's not always going to be this way, lil." he's said it so many times. to his credit, the conviction has held up. james is home. james is home.
"i know," she says, even though she doesn't. not really. "i know."
"i'm sorry it's the way it is right now though."
"you're in it, too."
"i know. i'm sorry still."
"hey."
"hm?"
"i love you. you have no idea how much."
he reaches up a second time to tip her face up and kiss her.
in another universe they don't need the neighbors to fight and the crickets to fucking chirp just to feel sane. in another universe the night can be dead still and it is fine. they kiss in the silence and it is fine. he goes out to meet his best friend and lily doesn't need the cat to distract her from being a hair away from a panic attack the entire time he's away, almost crippled with worry, her thoughts spiraling into images of unseeing hazel eyes and broken spectacles. in another universe she loves him and he loves her back and they make out in his old school hoodie as husband and wife, as parents, and that is all there is to it.
"i love you, too," he says, "and i'll live my entire life trying to show you how much."
she chuckles a bit. "geez. it's not a competition."
he laughs, the sound reverberating through his chest, literally felt on her skin. "if it was, i'll win. you'll see."
she will, unfortunately.
but for now there's this, home in her palm and the entire world through the window, her heart soaring and breaking at the same time.
//
[read/subscribe on ao3]
#jily#jily*#james potter#lily evans#jily fic#not sure where this came from but i wrote it in like#30 mins#which almost never happens
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Anime only watchers and people who aren't caught up with the Manga, BEWARE... Cuz I'm about to discuss Spy X Family Mission 109... You have been warned...! 👌
[SPOILERS AHEAD FROM THIS POINT ON]
This chapter was quite an interesting one...! 🤔 Especially with how it ended...!! 😲
This our first chapter of the year and did not disappoint...!! So let's us discuss this chapter shall we...? 👍
So, this chapter begins like this:
MELINDA STOP, THAT'S SOOO FREAKING ADORABLE!!! 💗😆
I just love the fact that Yor told Melinda about Loid's "concussive therapy" in the last chapter and because of that, we now get this gem of a reaction from her meeting Loid for the first time...!! 💗🤭💗
After that, it's time for Melinda's therapy session with Twilight...! Melinda tells him that Yor is the reason that she decided to come in, which Twilight acknowledges as an inadvertent assistance from Yor for the mission. After that, Loid lists off all of Melinda's symptoms and asks what might've triggered them, but she doesn't respond... Loid then tries to reassure her, which led to Melinda to say this to him:
Melinda... 🥲
After that, Twilight ponders why Melinda does not consider herself as a lively person, but she's still too anxious to give a full answer... So Twilight tries to reassure her again, but this time...:
It feels completely unsettling to me...!! 😰 Like, the way Twilight's drawn here with his inner thoughts just gives me bad vibes, but that's the thing with the characters of this series, most of them are grey characters...! Twilight may want to make a better world, but in order for him to achieve this as a spy, he has to do things like manipulation in order get the information he needs to help stop people like Donovan Desmond from causing more harm... And though he's only thinking of his mission currently, we have seen him go against what would've been more beneficial to the mission before (like deciding not to kill Yuri for Yor's sake back in Mission 83), so it's definitely possible that Twilight won't push Melinda too far, but we'll have to wait and see...!
Moving on, after sending her bodyguard Nora away, Melinda remarks that Twilight doesn't seem like a doctor (which immediately made me scared for a second that she might've figured out that Twilight was a spy) and proceeds to mention that she was a patient at Twilight's hospital a long time ago...:
Melinda then tells Twilight that she's here as a mother and a wife, which makes him come to that conclusion to ask if her distress involves her family, and then Melinda asks Twilight...:
HIS REACTION TO HER QUESTION GOT ME CACKLING!! 👏🤣🤣🤣
Twilight not knowing how to respond to that tries to figure out the best thing to say here by saying that he too is interested in UFOs, but it doesn't seem to work, so asks if UFOs have anything to do with Melinda's family, and her response was THIS:
WHAAAAAAAAT!?!? 😵
WHAT DOES THIS MEAN!? 😱 DOES THIS CONFIRM THAT DONOVAN HAS POWERS LIKE ANYA, OR COULD SHE BE IMPLYING THAT THE "REAL" DONOVAN WAS REPLACED BY AN ALIEN...?! I HONESTLY DON'T KNOW WHAT IT COULD BE...!! 😫
And well, that was the end of the chapter and, uh... I have SO MANY questions right now...!! 😵 I honestly don't what to believe at this moment, but I think I'm still leaning on the idea of Donovan having psychic powers like Anya...!! It just makes too much sense at this point!!! 👀
I don't know what's gonna happen in the next chapter, but whatever it is, it's gonna be ABSOLUTELY CRAZY!! 😲 So until the next Mission; take care, be safe out there and be kind to one another...!! PEACE!! ✌😁
#spy x family#sxf#spyxfamily#spy x family manga#sxf manga#spyxfamily spoilers#spy x family spoilers#sxf spoilers#spyxfamily manga#Mission 109#loid forger#melinda desmond#I hope that Twilight doesn't get a lot of hate for his actions in this chapter; but we'll see... 😔#Donovan possibly being an ailen is both hilarious and terrifing...!! 😅#Let's see how this all plays out...!! 👀#Dandadan and Spy × Family crossover when??? 👀#manga spoilers
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2024 Fic Recs
Hello and welcome to my fic recs from 2024 post :)
Like in 2023, the vast majority of fanfiction I read has been Tolkien-centric; my hyperfixation is still going strong, lol. I also got into Longmire (the TV show; I haven’t read the books yet), so there’s a handful of Longmire fanfics in here too. And as I said last year, buckle up, because it’s a pretty long post (this one’s got roughly 80 fics, not counting series!).
For each fic, I’ll give a one-sentence summary and then my thoughts on the fic! I’ll also mention whether the fic is a oneshot, doubleshot (2 chapters), or a multi-chapter fic, as well as the fic rating. I’m sorting the Tolkien fics into series, topic-based, character/time/place-focused, AUs & others, and then I’ll put the non-Tolkien fics at the end. I am including in-progress fics in each of those categories.
Credit to @cafekitsune for the galaxy banners used to separate the sections :)
Intro: What to Expect & Fics Legend
Expect: Lots of angst—LOTS of it. I didn’t realize how much there was until I went back through all of these! Also a bunch of fluff and hurt/comfort. Majority of fics are genfic. Mostly Silmfics; some Lord of the Rings and/or Hobbit characters are featured. Most fics are rated T, with a few rated G or M.
Do not expect: Stories with a focus on romantic!Russingon (or any other first cousins x cousins ships), smut, or excessively gory or dark stories. No E-rated fics.
Notes about formatting: Sometimes, the bullet points may be spaced out a little strangely; that’s because Tumblr won’t actually tag more than 5 people at once in a set of bullet points, so I have to space them out in order for people to get tagged properly. When a fic has quotation marks around the summary, that means it’s taken straight from the summary of the fic. Occasionally, I’ll consider a fic to be rated differently for my personal taste than it’s marked on AO3, and in those cases I will mention that. For example: G [AO3 rating] / T [personal rating]. Otherwise, ratings are from AO3.
Fics Legend/Key These emojis are used to denote any stories that have the following elements, and I’ll do my best to put appropriate warnings/mentions of certain potentially triggering topics as well, when needed. Most if not all the stories do have necessary tags or content warnings given by the author, so if I miss something, the author and/or the fic tags should tell you about it. My apologies if I do miss anything.
🔒 Fic only available to AO3 users
🩸 Features somewhat shocking or graphic violence and/or heavy topics (including abuse, severe trauma, mental illness, etc.)
*️⃣ Features background romantic!Russingon or other cousin ships
🏳️🌈 Features LGBTQ+/queer ships and/or characters (for those who do or do not prefer to read fics with queer ships/characters. If you have any questions about this, feel free to send me a DM.)
✍️ Fic is in progress/incomplete
Also, this may go without saying, but I feel like it does need saying: Your mileage may vary with these fics, especially those that are not particularly fluffy. So, read what you’re comfortable with, and don’t read or skip what you aren’t.
I will tag authors who are here on Tumblr; I've included multiple fics by the same authors, so I will only tag each author once.
To all the fic authors, people posting meta/analyses, and fan artists: Thank you for sharing your work with the world. Your stories, musings, and art have brought me a lot of joy (and frequently, encouragement) this past year, and it’s still kinda crazy to me that I can read or see it for free. Because you loved canon enough to make something from it, and you wanted to share the results of that love with others. Thank you. ❤️
Series
Annaáuchiwee by @thegreenleavesofspring (Brievel on AO3) & The_Anonymous_Coauthor 🩸✍️ - [Modern AU] The story of how a biker thug scrapes a street rat up off the street and discovers, for the first time in thirty years, that he has a conscience, which leads him halfway across the country and into a lifestyle of love and sacrifice that he had long forsworn. (In-progress series of 4 works, multi-chapters, T) Y’all. Y’all. I cannot recommend this series enough. If you follow my sideblog, @fandomsandfairytales, you have almost certainly seen me posting about this over there. This series is essentially set in the Sons of the Star universe, which is a “sons of Fëanor as a biker gang” modern AU, but it’s a step to the left of that AU. Annaáuchiwee is focused on the modern equivalent of Celegorm, named Riser Way, and his journey (both literal and figurative) to become an honorable man. I absolutely adore the characters and writing in this series. There’s so much: humor (and lots of it), angst (and lots of that too), violence, domestic fluff, thoughtful moments, and so much character growth. I get excited every time I see an update in my inbox! (Warning: The series features a fair amount of violence, and it deals with heavy topics, including trafficking, rape, and child abuse.)
On Elrond Peredhel by @elvinye (leodesic on AO3) ️*️⃣ 🏳️🌈 (Russingon + biological son Gil-Galad; prominent in one work) ✍️ - "A series examining Elrond's kidnap-adoption [and Elrond himself] from a variety of different characters’ perspectives." (In-progress series of 13 works, oneshots and doubleshots, all rated T or G.) I enjoy reading lots of different perspectives on kidnap fam, and I love how this series explores a huge spectrum of characters’ reactions to a very Noldorin Elrond. It’s so well-written and gives me major Elrond feels. Seeing Elrond through so many different lenses is really cool; I think leodesic does a great job handling each character’s inner narrative and also showing Elrond as a kind and caring yet assertive individual, no matter what that character thinks of him. If you are into pro-Fëanorian kidnap fam, you’ll like this series!
Quenta Nossëo by HonoraryDawn ✍️ - Elrond accidentally travels through time and space and arrives in Valinor just in time for Fëanor’s birth in the Years of the Trees; Elrond decides to change history and raise Fëanáro himself. (In-progress series of 2 works, multi-chapters, T) This is such a cool series! I love how it changes history, and all the twists and turns throughout! Nature vs. nurture is a key theme in Fëanor being raised by someone other than Finwë, and Fëanor’s development and the way tensions rise differently in Valinor in the Years of the Trees are fascinating. Highly recommend! (I also recommend Fanarts for Preventative Measures by Leira_E, which has several pieces of fan art and fan-written blurbs for the first installment in this series.)
Horrible Goose Fingon by @pearlescentpearl (PandaFlower on AO3) - Fingon, having experienced life in Beleriand, wakes up in the Years of the Trees Valinor and immediately decides to make it Morgoth’s problem. (In-progress series of 2 works, oneshots and multi-chapters, all rated T or G.) Fingon hits the ground running here, and his quick deductions and planning are so much fun to read! I enjoyed his interactions with Maedhros and with Ingwë’s family, and I’m looking forward to more.
Topic-Based
Post-Thangorodrim
I went through a period of time where I was really into rescue-from-Thangorodrim and post-Thangorodrim fics, so here are my top Maedhros-Thangorodrim-trauma recs from this year!
The Shackle by @valarhalla (Elisif on AO3) 🩸 - Fingon rescues Maedhros from the cliff of Thangorodrim. (Oneshot, M) This fic was exactly what I was looking for when I was craving a rescue-from-Thangorodrim fic!!! Masterfully written. It really depicted the sort of state Mae would have been in, neglected and hanging from the cliff as he was. The entire thing is SO angsty and incredibly heartrending and I loved it. (Warning: Graphic descriptions of injury, bodily fluids, and the effects of an extended period of physical neglect.)
Open Wounds by @markedasinfernal (theeventualwinner on AO3)🩸*️⃣ - “Maedhros' post-Thangorodrim recovery.” (12 chapters, M) I devoured this fic over two days and oh my goodness. What an amazingly well-written piece. I loveddddd all of the medical terminology and the very analytical (though never at the cost of emotional, or vice versa!) way Maedhros’ healing was approached. There’s so much angst and tension amongst the rest of the sons of Fëanor and Fingon as well, yet it is borne out of care for Maedhros, and that care is shown very clearly in all their interactions with Maedhros himself. The richness of the relationships in this fic is really beautiful. (Note: Any Russingon in this fic is very, very lightly implied. Warning: Descriptions of injury, physical trauma, and PTSD.)
Whoops, They’re Both Asleep by until_the_stars_are_all_alight - Findékano comes to visit Maitimo when he hears his cousin wanted “Káno” and finds Makalaurë [Kanáfinwë] is already there. (Oneshot, T) A short, absolutely adorable oneshot! It’s only 350 words, but everything is so well-portrayed: the tension between Fingon and Maglor, the way Maedhros is dealing with his recovery, the affection he has for both his brother and cousin. I’ve reread it a few times now and I love it more every time.
No Resemblance by Elisif - Nolofinwë struggles to recognise his nephew after his rescue from Angband. (2 chapters, incomplete, T) This is SO PAINFUL and angsty and so good. From Fingolfin barely recognizing Maedhros for who he was (when Fingon brought him back) to all the memories of young Maedhros in Valinor, it’s shot through with feelssssss.
Dawn by potatoesanddreams - Maedhros’ first sight of the Sun. (Oneshot, T) A proper drabble clocking in at 100 words. I really enjoyed this one—I was fascinated by the second person point of view for Maedhros! The descriptions are so evocative and eloquent.
More About the Things that You Take With by @imnotdyingbutyouallare - Maedhros struggles with Maglor cutting his hair. (Oneshot, T) There is so much gentleness in this fic despite how much Maedhros is still suffering, and so much awareness of each other on both Maglor and Maedhros’ parts, which I loved. Even a “simple” thing such as cutting Maedhros’ hair is difficult for him, and I could really feel the fragility of Maedhros’ state of mind throughout. So, so good!!!
breakdown by @leucisticpuffin 🔒 - Maglor breaks down and Maedhros struggles to comfort him. (Oneshot, T) Oh my goodness, ugh. This is soooo painful and I love it. I feel terribly for Maglor, and for Maedhros feeling so helpless. What an angsty vignette of their relationship in the immediate aftermath of Maedhros’ rescue.
Let them see! by BarbieBlue - Maglor attempts to console Maedhros in a difficult moment during Maedhros’ recovery. (Oneshot, T) I loved reading this fic! I felt the acute frustration on Maedhros’ part that he can do so little and Maglor’s intense guilt. Maglor’s compassion and determination to prove to his brother that he cares is very compelling. (Fingon’s bewilderment at the end is rather hilarious, too.)
Us Against the World by @annoyinglandmagazine (Caranthirwasalesbian on AO3) - It’s the first feast after Maedhros’ recovery, and he realizes only having one hand makes table manners difficult. (Oneshot, G) To me, this fic really demonstrates how much the sons of Fëanor care for each other, and I simply adore it. It’s a beautiful picture of love on a practical level.
Crablor
Oneshots of our favorite singing elf-turned-crustacean, Crablor!
Soft-Shelled Soul by @thescrapwitch (theScrap_Witch on AO3) 🔒 - Maedhros learns from Námo that his brother has been transformed into a crab, and he is determined to find him and bring him home. (Oneshot, G) I really enjoyed this lovely Crablor story! I loved the fact that it was Maedhros and Celegorm who found Maglor—it makes perfect sense to not only have Maedhros, the caring older brother, searching but also Celegorm, the one who knows animal languages. Everything back in Valinor (the reactions! Maglor’s new living space!) are wonderful, too.
The Trial of Crablor Fëanorion by theScrap_Witch 🔒 - Maglor, in crab form, is put on trial for his crimes. (Oneshot, G) This fic could very well go in my humor section as well as the Crablor section. I found myself laughing throughout, and even typing this I’m smiling just thinking about it. The format of a court trial record is delightful, along with all the shenanigans included for the sake of the record!
lured to be loved by LadyHaleth - Elladan and Elrohir search for their long-lost grandfather…who they discover has been turned into a different form. (Oneshot, T) A sweet adventure! Elladan and Elrohir’s dedication to finding and caring for Maglor is so admirable, and I enjoyed their dynamic as twins and with Maglor. The details in every scene really make this fic! (And don’t miss the awesome art in the middle, since the art and fic were one of the TRSB collabs for this year.)
Humor
to speak, to scream and laugh with the echo by @artandsuffering (Tamatoa (SaltandtheSoul) on AO3) - When Maglor wakes up in the past after the Fourth Age, he decides to make it Sauron’s problem. (Oneshot, T) This fic is SO FREAKING FUNNY. The understated humor in this is incredible, and I love the phrasing throughout. The framing of the atmosphere of Angband as a corporate workplace of sorts (while still being fully in Middle-Earth, of course) simply makes this fic.
This Battle Could Have Been An E-mail by @tilion-writes (Tilion on AO3) ✍️ - A series of emails in Maedhros’ inbox throughout the ages. (4 chapters, in progress, T) INCREDIBLY hilarious. The email addresses, the domains for the email addresses (nargothrond.com! himring.net!), the email sign-offs for each of the characters, the subject lines, the files, the messages (including punctuation and tone of professionalism, or lack thereof) from each character—all of it was priceless.
Please Do Not by @mynameisjessejk - “In which Maedhros has all the foresight of the House of Feanaro and uses it entirely to prevent brother and cousin shenanigans.” (Oneshot, bullet-point, T) This fic is absolutely hysterical. I probably broke something trying so hard not to laugh (I was reading this when there were people around). The phrase “the transitive property of Finrod” still lives rent-free in my head months after I read it XD This fic also turned out to be really heartwarming and gave me many feels. So, so, so good.
How Dare by @catkin-morgs-kookaburralover (ATalkingCat on AO3) - The palantir experiences Pippin picking it up. (Oneshot, G) I laughed out loud multiple times reading this. It’s a short, delightful read with a VERY snarky palantir point of view, and I highly enjoyed it!
Give A Whistle by Prackspoor - “After the sacking of Ost-in-Edhil, the Dark Lord Sauron ordered his prisoners crucified and carried at the head of his army as banners so that their approach would strike fear into the hearts of his enemies; no one could have imagined that the last resistance of the Elven City had no plans to go out quietly… literally.” (Oneshot, T) A VERY humorous, somewhat dark oneshot (with a second chapter solely for references). It’s very Monty-Python-esque, with some direct Monty Python references, so if you enjoy that sort of humor, this will be right up your alley. The sympathetic orc captain point of view is fantastic! (Warning: There’s a few dark mentions/descriptions of torture.)
Romance-focused
Tax Fraud and Picnics by @thesummerestsolstice - Haleth and baby Erestor convince Caranthir to go on a picnic. (Oneshot, G) I’ve got three words for this fic: SUPER. DUPER. CUTE. This fic is as sweet as candy. I adore how much Caranthir loves Haleth, and the light humor sprinkled throughout made me grin (the Caranthir-Turgon arguments over taxes will never not be funny to me).
Mending by theScrap_Witch 🔒 - “Caranthir sits by Haleth’s side as she dies and thinks of his family, his life, and his craft.” (Oneshot, T) Very sweet! I loved how the story wove Caranthir’s memories into the present day (pun very much intended), and his love for his craft is so beautiful. I also really enjoyed the visitors at the end :)
Your Eyes Are Like Knives (And I Really Like Knives) by @sweetteaanddragons (Drag0nst0rm on AO3) - Haleth knows that Caranthir is hiding something, and she is determined to find out what it is. (Oneshot, T) I saw that this fic was going to be part of TRSB 2024 a few days before the fics all got released, and I was so excited to read it! I had a fantastic time eagerly devouring it with much excitement and laughter, and as per usual, I thoroughly enjoyed Haleth flustering Caranthir.
Yours Dearly, Most Sincerely by Drag0nst0rm - “Five times Nerdanel had to help Feanaro write a letter, and one time he returned the favor. (And two times they had to write a letter alone.)” (Doubleshot, T) This fic both filled me up with the love Fëanor and Nerdanel had for each other (and their sons!) and ripped me to pieces with angst. The way Nerdanel often balances out Fëanor’s fiery spirit when it comes to composing a letter—and the way he chooses to listen to her!—is wonderful to read; the scene with the third letter practically gave me a heart attack from how adorably fluffy it was. Of course, this makes it all the more heartbreaking when they are apart. A very emotional read all around!
Breaking Into Light by @starspray ✍️ - Glingaereth happens to meet Fingon, the crown prince of the Noldor, and the two begin to take an interest in each other. (4 chapters, in progress, T) I haven’t read any Fingon x OFC fics before, and I really liked this one! Glingaereth and the other original characters stand well on their own, and the chemistry between Glingaereth and Fingon feels natural. I also liked the outside perspectives of the Noldor royal family and the uneasiness amongst the Sindar about the sense of doom following the Noldor.
Nothing in the World is Single by StarSpray - Eärendil and Elwing become friends…and then more. (5 chapters, T [AO3 rating] / G [personal rating]) This is so sweet! I really enjoyed this fic—the easy pacing, Eärendil’s friendly nature, and Elwing’s more reserved personality all combine to make a great read. The descriptions are wonderful, and I liked Eärendil and Elwing’s adventures.
Character, Time, or Place-Focused
Kidnap Fam
What matters is ‘you’ and not the state of you. by @havenotwillnotreadthebooks (EclecticKefi on AO3) - “Maglor contemplates the Peredhel that he and his brother have taken in, then contemplates the effect of this new life on Maedhros.” (Doubleshot, T) This was such an enjoyable read! I loved reading Maglor’s reflections, especially on Maedhros as a father figure to Elrond and Elros. I also enjoyed reading how the twins’ nature as peredhel (and being somewhat eldritch to boot) affects their domestic life with Maglor and Maedhros.
I keep my enemies closer than the mirror ever gets to me by EclecticKefi 🔒 - Elrond and Elros hide in Maglor’s closet and overhear Maedhros and Maglor talking. (Oneshot, T) This fic is both heartbreaking and heartwarming in multiple ways. The two peredhel have seen far too much trauma and suffering in their young lives, but their empathy is really sweet. Also, I’m always a fan of eldritch!peredhel, so I liked the notes of that scattered throughout the story.
On Monsters and Lullabies by Tilion - Maglor is the one the twins like, not Maedhros, and Maglor confronts his brother. (Oneshot, T) I will never tire of the angstiness of Maedhros and Maglor arguing over the twins and the role they play in their lives, nor how Maedhros becomes someone the twins can trust. Maglor’s softness with the twins is so sweet (baby Elrond and Elros are ADORABLE), and the reflections (both Maglor’s and Maedhros’) on how much Maedhros had changed since being in Valinor are really well-written.
And Love Grew by @polutrope (polutropos on AO3) ✍️ - Maedhros and Maglor deal with the aftermath of their attack on Sirion, and Maglor leads their host—including two young peredhel and their caretaker—to Amon Ereb. (6 chapters, in progress, T) A wonderfully complex, angsty, deeply woven tale. Every character and relationship has so many layers, and polutropos does a great job of exploring the darkness of the Oath and the ripple affect it has on the sons of Fëanor, their followers, and the people of Sirion.
And when we’re in the dark, it echoes in your heart by ElectricKefi - Elros unintentionally triggers Maedhros’ Sauron-related trauma. (Oneshot, T) Poor Maedhros AND poor Elros! The idea that the peredhel with Maia blood would bring back Maedhros’ memories of being tortured by Sauron—especially when Elros is trying to help him—is so sad. I loved the instantly-on-alert Maglor who is there to de-escalate the situation, too.
though the shadow closes in by millyfaraway - Maglor and Maedhros strategize to keep Elrond and Elros safe. (Oneshot, T) I really like the dialogue and OCs in this one! The discussion of Sauron and Morgoth’s desire for the peredhel, the plans to keep moving, and the connection Maedhros and Maglor share all flow quite well.
First Age Beleriand
Finwëons & Fëanorians:
Mind the Gap by Tilion - Maglor visits Himring. (Oneshot, T) Loved reading this!! Great characterization of both the characters themselves and their relationship. They are SUCH siblings in this, and I really enjoyed reading them snarking at each other and checking up on each other and seeking to ensure all was truly well. I’ll also never pass up a scene with Maglor braiding Maedhros’ hair.
The Light Behind Your Eyes by Tilion ✍️ - Scenes of Maglor and Maedhros after Thangorodrim. (2 chapters, in progress, T) I love how beautifully this portrays Maglor and Maedhros’ relationship. It balances the past and the present really well. Even though Maedhros is still clearly suffering from his time in Angband, this fic has a calm tone to it, and I can see the healing taking place in Maedhros’ spirit. A lovely read.
Scribbles and Squabbles by @dreamingthroughthenoise (Alantie on AO3) 🔒 - An argument between the Fëanorians, through letters. (7 chapters, T) This was a delight to read! Humorous at times, and heartfelt at others. I could pick up on the underlying hurt and desire to be seen that sparked the argument, and the love and care rising from the letters as things resolved. (The very clear and present sass was quite fun, too.)
Gingerbread Cookies by Elisif - Aredhel and Fingon supervise Idril and Tyelpë while they make Christmas cookies. (Oneshot, G) This is such an adorable fic—tiny Idril and Celebrimbor are so cute, and I loved Aredhel and Fingon’s brother-sister relationship. Their interactions have such fond sibling energy!
A Mere Shadow by Elisif - Maglor comes to visit Maedhros and is reminded of Thingol’s Quenya ban. (Oneshot, T) So good and so sad! I could immediately feel the shift in Maglor’s mood when Maedhros inadvertently reminds him of the ban, and the sorrow oozing from both brothers, as if from a wound.
the raging storm of a foreign war, and a face i'd seen before by @arafinweanappreciation (TelerinJedi on AO3) - Finarfin comes to Beleriand. (Oneshot, T) This fic is short yet so expressive!! I love Finarfin seeing Tol Sirion and him talking about avenging his son in such a terrifyingly calm manner.
Ill-Tidings by TheScrap_Witch 🔒 - Maedhros brings news to Curufin that Nargothrond has fallen. (Oneshot, T) Poor Curufin 😭 This fic has all the dad!Curufin feels!!!! Curufin’s humanity (or elvish equivalent, lol) shines through in this fic in his anguish over his son. His grief and rage are so palpable (and so well-written!).
Too Big, Too Heavy by @hwestalas - Maedhros visits the new High King of the Noldor after the Dagor Bragollach. (Oneshot, T) Aaaaaaaaaaaaaa. Fingon’s grief over Fingolfin is so raw and real, and I love how he tries to keep it together but fails in the face of Maedhros’ calm, devoted friendship. Such a great read.
ever an anguish that pursued by @thelordofgifs (TheChasm on AO3) 🩸 - Maglor tries to save Maedhros from the fire, but he keeps waking up. (Oneshot, T) UGH SO ANGSTY. So so angsty. All of the “what if”s that Maglor dreams could have happened are so terribly sad, because he can see so many ways out that don’t involve Maedhros jumping into the chasm. (Warning: suicide and multiple near-suicide attempts.)
stone on the board by @dalliansss - The Finwëons play games with politics in Beleriand at Mithrim. (Oneshot, T) So good! Love the politicking going on in this fic, primarily between Maedhros and Finrod. Quite an intriguing read.
there's no timer on grief 🔒 by Kat_isaconfusedbean - After Losgar, Amras mourns. (Oneshot, T) This is SO painful. Especially for how short this fic is. My heart aches for Amras (and for Celegorm). I love Celegorm coming to comfort his brother, along with Huan.
Unrepentent by theScrap_Witch 🔒 - Maedhros will not give up on obtaining the last Silmarils. (Oneshot, T) The Oath has Maedhros in its grip so tightly in this fic (along with his own memories and experiences), and it’s horrifying yet understandable to see him act and think the way he does. I love the dynamic between Maedhros and Maglor in this fic, too.
the ways of birds by @welcomingdisaster (welcoming_disaster on AO3) - “When Maglor is captured in the aftermath of the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, he doesn't expect a rescue. (for the prompts maglor + maedhros + "need to keep quiet" & "roadside wound tending.”)” (Oneshot, T) SO MUCH MAGLOR WHUMP. And so much tension, too. I could really feel Maglor’s raw, gritty pain and the ugly experiences he endured. It made the comfort part of “hurt/comfort” that much more relieving when he was, indeed, rescued.
Non-Finwëons:
Mad, Not Angry by AfricanDaisy - Young Thranduil is woken from a thunderstorm, and searches for a source of comfort: his father. (Oneshot, G) SO so cute! I could really feel Thranduil’s panic in searching for Oropher, and then his simultaneous relief and upset when he did find him. The descriptions are vivid and well-crafted, very fun to read!
no vela, no orion by TelerinJedi - A comment from Andreth’s sister causes her to wonder if she is in love with Nóm (or vice versa), and it is harder to have a discussion with him about this than she thinks. (Oneshot, G) The adolescent awkwardness and embarrassment in this fic brings me back to my teenage days XD This is really sweet though, truly. A light bit of fluff!
Second and Third Age Middle-Earth
living arrows sent forth by @balrogballs (timelessutterances on AO3) - Thranduil and Elrond discuss fatherhood at Arwen and Aragorn’s wedding reception. (Oneshot, T) SO. SO. GOOD. I seriously love the phrasing in this one, as well as Thranduil’s and Elrond’s characterizations, their long-held opinions and memories of each other, and their discussion of parenthood. Thranduil is so snarky and Elrond so earnest. Phenomenal all the way through.
rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated by @lighttrls (thunder_and_stars on AO3) - Unaware of elves’ habit of sleeping with their eyes open, Estel finds Elladan unmoving with his eyes open and thinks he must be dead. (Oneshot, T) POOR BABY ESTEL aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. The angst is off the charts in this one; my heart was breaking for tiny Aragorn. I was so glad that his assumption was corrected, in the end.
i'm fine, i prom- by thunder_and_stars - Elladan and Estel are captured by orcs and tortured. (Oneshot, T) Oh my goodness, I wanted to kill each and every orc right along with Elladan. The descriptions of the orcs’ actions, their impact on Estel physically, and the impact on Elladan emotionally were so vivid. It’s some good, heavy whump (with some comfort at the end).
sticks and stones may break my bones by thunder_and_stars - Some people don’t like the fact that Estel lives with the elves. (Oneshot, T) Once again, right there with one of the twins on wanting to beat up people for mistreating Estel. The way Estel tried to hide his injuries and then admitted what happened and what was said and done to him was so sad. Lots of hurt/comfort here.
A Long Way To Go In The Morning by @nocompromise-noregrets (likethenight on AO3) 🔒 - “The night before the Fellowship of the Ring leaves Rivendell, Elladan and Elrohir give Aragorn some encouragement.” (Oneshot, T) I really enjoyed this one! Elladan and Elrohir are such good brothers to Aragorn, and the way they lifted his spirits was really sweet. I liked the discussion of mortality as well as the hopefulness that the twins had about the Quest and Aragorn’s success.
Advice Unlooked For by sehellys - Aragorn talks to Elladan and Elrohir when they return from the Wild, and then he goes to the Feast in the Hall of Fire. (Oneshot, T) The descriptions in this one are simply beautiful—and so is the dialogue! I loved the shift from serious to “shenanigans mode” after the twins update Aragorn on what’s going on in the outside world.
Re-embodiment in Valinor
Red, Red Moon (Keep On Rising) by Tilion 🏳️🌈 (Celegorm/Oromë features somewhat prominently, especially in the back half) - Celegorm wakes up outside Mandos with two silver-haired elflings and no memories; he sets off to bring the boys to their parents and figure out his identity. (24 chapters, T) This was such a fun fic to keep up with as it got updates! Celegorm and the twins (kidnap fam 2.0, one might say) were incredibly adorable. I loved Legolas and Tauriel’s inclusion, and I highly enjoyed the whole identity crisis Celegorm went through (seriously, it was awesome). Celegorm feels SO Celegorm to me in this fic: cocky, rough around the edges, more caring than he’d like to admit. Overall there’s so much to this fic, and the twists and turns kept me on the edge of my seat.
Hemlock and Niphredil by theScrap_Witch 🔒 - “In Fourth Age Valinor, Elrond and Thingol connect over a shared love of gardening and grief for their daughters.” (Oneshot, T) I had never really thought about Elrond and Thingol’s similarities before this fic, and I loved getting to read them interacting and forming a friendship! Both have lost daughters by the choice to give up immortality, yet they have quite different personalities (and a complicated family tree), and it’s beautiful to see them connect through their shared experiences. (It’s also interesting to read Thingol portrayed in a more sympathetic light than most fics—yet not without his imperfections, certainly.)
Memento Vivere (Remember, You Must Live) by Drag0nst0rm - “Maedhros and Maglor have a long overdue discussion of what happened at the edge of that chasm - and what happened after.” (Oneshot, T) UGH so GOOD and so ANGSTY. There are so many emotional beats in this fic, and I found myself bracing for each one. I painfully love Maglor’s instincts when it comes to protecting/taking care of Maedhros after all these years, and how he doesn’t want the people he loves to be hurt because of him—though he has been in so much pain himself, and Maedhros sees that. Really, really good. (Warning: Discussion of suicide.)
White Water Flowing by StarSpray ✍️ - In Valinor and homesick for Imladris, Celebrían decides to build a new one. (6 chapters, in progress, T) This is such a lovely fic!! I’ve really enjoyed reading it. I love Celebrían’s characterization—many people underestimate her, and it’s wonderful to see her bloom after healing in Lórien. She simultaneously has a gentle soul and an admirable tenacity and drive. I also love reading her interacting with members of Elrond’s family and seeing how those relationships develop.
Handle with Care by theScrap_Witch 🔒 - “When Fëanor left the Halls of the Dead, he did not expect Mahtan to be the one waiting for him.” (Oneshot, T) I loved this!!! I don’t see a lot of Mahtan and Fëanor interactions, and I really enjoyed reading their conversation. (I grinned at Mahtan telling Fëanor off about Nerdanel. I haven’t seen that before and I’ve really wanted to, so it was quite satisfying.) It’s clear that they both carry a lot of grief, and they have a familiar relationship underpinning everything.
From Ruins We Grow by TheScrap_Witch 🔒✍️ - Fëanor learns how to live again (and how to garden!) when he is returned to life and placed under Yavanna’s responsibility to tend a small corner of Valinor. (7 chapters, in progress, T) I get so excited whenever I see an update for this fic in my inbox! There’s so much feeling in this fic, which is very fitting for Fëanáro’s fiery, intense character. It’s in turns amusing and exasperating to see him humbled by learning a new craft, yet I always find myself rooting for him in his endeavors. I love the relationships he forms with the visitors to his garden, and all the sweet memories of his sons practically make my heart melt.
AUs
In-Universe AUs
An Unexpected Rescue by SpaceWall - Fëanor realizes that someone has taken on the form of his half-brother Fingolfin, and that the real Fingolfin has disappeared. (Doubleshot, T) This is SUCH a cool AU!!! I really enjoyed reading this one. I love Fëanor’s insistence on figuring out what happened and finding Fingolfin, though of course in denial that he cares for his brother deep down. I’d say more but I don’t want to spoil it!
Will You Greet the Daylight Looming? by Tilion - Maglor persuades Maedhros to live. (Oneshot, T) Oh, this fic is terribly, delightfully angsty. I love how Maglor and Maedhros’ relationship is portrayed here, and the vivid imagery really brings it to life. Lots of thee/thou and ‘dearest’ language, too!
Reforged by theScrap_Witch 🔒🩸🏳️🌈 (background Celebrimbor/Gil-Galad) - Maeglin survives the fall of Gondolin, and Celebrimbor and others help him to find his way to healing. (20 chapters, G [AO3 rating] / T [personal rating]) What a story. Just—what a story. It takes you on a rollercoaster of emotion and growth and change and just, wow. I am so freaking proud of Maeglin in this fic, and I love his characterization. He digs his claws into life and doesn’t let go, and it’s incredible to see his transformation over the course of centuries. I also loved the inclusion of many other Second and Third Age characters in this story and how Maeglin’s life becomes intertwined with theirs. This fic is angsty and agonizing on so many levels, but it is fiercely emotional and cathartic in good ways too. I really enjoyed getting to follow along with this fic as it was published!
Scion of Mystery by Tilion 🏳️🌈 (minor Erestor/Curufin) - Elrond is determined to uncover Gil-galad’s true parentage. (7 chapters, T) Absolutely BUCK WILD Gil-Galad theory. Complete and total plot twist that I did NOT see coming until a few sentences before it was revealed!! Elrond’s shenanigans along the way to uncover Gil-Galad’s parentage were so much fun to read. Features kidnap fam and Celrond, along with other Fëanorians.
Parley AUs This is a subset of in-universe AUs where someone other than Maedhros gets taken at the parley with Morgoth. Apparently this was the year for me to get into parley AUs, and it even inspired me to write my own, lol!
The Price We Pay by theScrap_Witch 🔒🩸 - “In which Makalaurë goes to parlay with Morgoth, Findekáno still performs his dramatic rescue, and Maitimo struggles with both his little brother’s recovery and his responsibilities as king.” (Oneshot, T) This fic yanked out my heart and stomped on it and then tossed it off a cliff for good measure. I’ve read a few different Maglor-is-taken-at-the-parley fics, but oh boy, this one poured on the FEELS. Everything in this fic is heartbreaking—from Maglor’s belief that he is a “pretty bird” meant to sing to Morgoth, to Maedhros’ distrust/fear of Fingolfin, to all of Maglor’s brothers’ pain over his traumatized state—yet there is an undercurrent of hope that slowly rises throughout the story. It’s so well-written, and I highly, highly recommend it.
Despair Like Poison by theScrap_Witch 🔒 - “Thinking that he’s protecting his family, Maedhros rides to the parlay alone, unaware that Morgoth has a different trick in mind.” (Oneshot, bullet-point, T) Sooooo so angsty!! I really can’t say much about this without spoilers, but aaaaaaaaa. Maedhros is firm about his decision to go, but he’s so gentle with his brothers at the moment of departure, which makes what happens after so much worse.
A Crown of Bones by theScrap_Witch 🔒 - Maitimo and Makalaurë are taken in the parley with Morgoth, and Tyelkormo must take up the crown. (Oneshot, T) I really liked this AU! Celegorm has a lot to deal with here, both in being the oldest Fëanorion and being king of their people. The reminder that he can handle himself in political situations and display his power in words—not just physical action—is fantastic, and the way he cares so deeply for his younger brothers and misses his oldest two is heartwrenching.
Boldness Be My Friend by @a-tehta (tehta on AO3) - Celegorm has been captured by Morgoth, and it is up to Aredhel and Huan to rescue him from the cliff of Thangorodrim. (Oneshot, T) This one is surprisingly humorous for being a rescue-from-Thangorodrim fic, yet also sweet! I really loved getting a Huan POV (so cool), and I enjoyed Aredhel getting to be the rescuer. (There is a bit of implied future Celegorm/Aredhel at the end, but it’s mostly, if not entirely, played for humor.)
Modern AUs
Little Stars, Little Souls by Tamatoa (SaltandtheSoul) - Fëanor looks for his second son, who is dressed up for Halloween. (Oneshot, G) SUPER. CUTE. This is some of the fluffiest fluff to ever fluff and I was just gobbling it up. Baby Maglor is the cutest thing and I love Fëanor as a dad here.
the adventures of Elf Guy by red_01 - “A group of friends obsessed with The Silmarillion discovers a guy who bears a resemblance to Maglor—and uncover the truth.” (Oneshot, T) This was so much fun to read (and highly amusing)! The Twitter format was a great choice, and I’m impressed by the dedication to it. I enjoyed the back-and-forth chaos, internet-typical keysmashes and all caps, and references to artists in the Tolkien fandom (e.g., Clamavi de Profundis, “Phobs-style” cosplays).
Cookies by Brievel 🔒 - Girl Scouts visit the Ways’ house. (Oneshot, G) This absolutely delighted me. I love everything about it—the POV of the girl scouts, the way they were all intimidated by Max, a cameo by Nell, Birdie yelling for cookies in the background. It’s so sweet and made me grin so much.
Valentines Flowers by Brievel 🔒 - “Max brings Misty flowers.” (Oneshot, G) Max and Misty are just straight-up ADORABLE. The way they interact and how they familiar they are with each other’s habits shows how comfortable they are with each other. They both are down so bad, and I love to see it. I also love to see Max doing something nice for Misty :)
Other Tolkien Fics
These are fics that didn’t fit into any other category or had less than three fics within each category.
Miscellaneous:
The War of the Ring by @winterinhimring (morwen_of_gondor on AO3) - The sons of Fëanor are re-embodied and sent to Middle-Earth to atone for their crimes during the Third Age when the Quest for the Ring begins. (42 chapters, T) PSA: if you’ve read The Silmarillion and The Lord of the Rings, you must read this. Required reading. I am only very slightly joking. This story is absolutely PHENOMENAL. I was curious to see what the sons of Fëanor joining the Fellowship would be like, and I was blown away by how beautifully written it is. Y’all. It’s written in the style of The Lord of the Rings books. Like, legitimately. I never knew how much I needed to see the Fëanorions interacting with the hobbits, or showing the strength of ancient Valinorian-born elves in battle, and it all being written in true Tolkienian style is so incredibly wonderful. I can’t recommend this enough.
Joys to Come by @darkfrozenabyss - “Glorfindel, from Tirion to Rivendell.” (7 chapters, T) Loved this fic!!! I love darkfrozenabyss’ characterization of Glorfindel so much. There are so many emotionally powerful, simple and sweet, and feels-inducing moments in this story, and I really enjoyed Glorfindel’s family and how close he is with them!
Years of the Trees Valinor:
Little Father by feanorianswelcome 🔒 - “Maitimo finds little Atarinkë and brings him home for luncheon.” (Oneshot, G) Cute little Curufin oneshot with big brother Maitimo! I haven’t read a lot of Curufin & Maedhros together, so this was enjoyable (and very sweet).
Fine Feathers, Pretty Songs by an_evasive_author - Everyone loves tiny Findaráto (as they should). (Oneshot, G) SO. FREAKING. CUTE. All the fluff for Findaráto! I loved him so much (and the writing style of this fic, too).
Rings of Power:
Look into the Mirror (Tell Me What You See) by Drag0nst0rm - Second Age!Gil-Galad and Rings of Power!Gil-Galad switch places. (3 chapters, T) I have watched one (1) episode of the Rings of Power series, but I have thankfully read enough articles about it that I understand enough to read this fic! It’s a highly amusing and enjoyable read :) The difference in Gil-Galads is quite noticeable, and I loved seeing Second Age!Gil-Galad quite surprised at his (supposed) past actions in RoP, whereas RoP!Gil-Galad is a little less aware of the change in his surroundings (but everyone else certainly is).
Another Skin by crystal_buizel - Second Age!Elrond and Rings of Power!Elrond switch places (based off of “Look into the Mirror (Tell Me What You See)”). (Doubleshot, T) Another swapped places fic! Poor Elrond in both situations, but especially poor Second Age!Elrond. Like the other fic, I can’t say too much about it without spoilers, but this one is also enjoyable, with a bit more angst on the part of both Elronds.
Tumblr Oneshots:
just you wait by @lintamande - “being brilliant in mind and swift in action she had early absorbed all of what she was capable of the teaching which the Valar thought fit to give the Eldar…” (T) I really liked this oneshot! Galadriel in her youth is rather clueless when it comes to social interactions, though she is vastly intelligent in intellectual matters, and I can feel her frustration, restlessness, and pride so strongly in this. Really well-written.
Oropher and Celeborn have a conversation by @amethysttribble - At a party, Oropher and Celeborn talk about the line of Lúthien. (T) SO good!!!! I loved this so much. Oropher and Celeborn’s characterization and views on things make a lot of sense, and I love how their discussion flows. They are the last two of Doriath, and that weight on their shoulders is so evident throughout this fic.
Non-Tolkien Fics
Longmire
A Never Ending Bake Sale by ladygray99 - Walt and Henry spend a casual evening together at The Red Pony. (Oneshot, T) I absolutely loved reading this fic. I feel like ladygray99 really nailed the characters, their relationship, and their mannerisms. Everything in Walt and Henry’s conversation, said and unsaid, felt very natural and relaxed. You can feel the depth of their 38-year-long friendship and how comfortable with each other they are. Although I’ve only seen the TV show and not read the books, I liked how it incorporated things from both. A great read!
Every Page You Turn You’re Writing (Typing) Your Legacy by @cminerva and @whatamess 🔒 - “For nearly four decades, Mathias has found many reasons to admire Ms. Ruby Mason née Taylor and in that time Ms. Ruby has found just as many reasons to be fond—and so proud—of the man Mathias has become.” (Oneshot, T) Oh my GOSH. This fic is adorable and cringy (in the best way!) and so freaking cute. I highly enjoyed the descriptions of Durant high school in the early 80s, complete with a typing class; although I wasn’t alive at the time, it feels quite realistic. I loved seeing Mathias’ journey through high school into adulthood and the way his and Ruby’s friendship developed over time, from Mathias’ schoolboy crush to his respect for the amazing woman she is. Mathias and Ruby’s friendship has now become canon to me, to the point where I’ll watch episodes and get excited whenever these two characters (who, for anyone who doesn’t know the show, are minor characters and very rarely interact) get to see each other, even only for a quick nod or short smile.
Something New by cminerva - Though they’ve known each other for years, May Stillwater and Mathias Littlesun have never been friends—and indeed, they’ve been enemies before—but perhaps it’s time for something new. (Oneshot, T) I am now a May/Mathias shipper after reading this fic XD I really liked how this not only addressed the (admittedly few) interactions they had in the TV show but also added more “off-screen” ones to give more depth to their on-screen appearances. They have a lot of reason to dislike each other, but I loved how in this fic, they began to see reasons to respect each other and then caught feelings. So cute!
Quigley Down Under
Morning Sun by Brievel 🔒 - Matthew and Cora wake up together. (Oneshot, G) This fic is SO SOFT. I can totally picture this happening as an epilogue after the end of the movie, and I can hear their voices so well. The details are quite lovely. Quigley Down Under is a pretty niche film, but if you’ve seen it, you deserve to read this fic!
I mentioned this at the start, but I wanted to reiterate because I truly am very grateful—To all the fic authors, people posting meta/analyses, and fan artists: Thank you for sharing your work with the world. Your stories, musings, and art have brought me a lot of joy (and frequently, encouragement) this past year, and it’s still kinda crazy to me that I can read or see it for free. Because you loved canon enough to make something from it, and you wanted to share the results of that love with others. Thank you. ❤️
And thank you to all who read this far XD Hope you enjoy some (or all!) of these fics!
Other Fic Rec Lists: 2023 Fic Recs, Fic Recs for Elrond Week 2024 (on fandomsandfairytales)
#2024 fic recs#2024 fic review#tolkien fic#silm fic#tolkien fic recs#longmire fics#fic rec list#fanfiction#fanfiction recommendation#fanfiction rec list#this has been a post#yearly fic rec post#year in review post#fic recs#2024
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After pt4 - Reactions & Press
Pairing: Max Verstappen x PewDiePie!sibling Summary: What if Felix had a genius brother who works as a RedBull's engineer and is also secretly dating Max part 33 of A Calm to my Storm Masterlist
Post-race Interview: Journalists asking Max and other drivers for their reactions
Journalist 1: "Max, that was one hell of a race! From P20 to P1—how does it feel? Can you talk us through some of the reactions, especially Lewis going off track after your overtake and losing the podium to Sebastian and Kimi?"
Max(chuckling): "Yeah, it was a pretty wild race. Lewis wasn’t expecting that move, and honestly, I didn’t either at first! But Sam… well, he gave me the perfect strategy. Once Lewis went off, I think he was as surprised as everyone else. Seb saw his chance and capitalised, and Kimi did what Kimi does. It’s always intense battling with those guys.”
Journalist 2: "Sebastian, we heard you over the radio when Max passed you. Can you comment on what you were feeling at that moment?"
Sebastian (grinning): “Well, I’ve raced against Max for years, and I’ve seen him pull off some incredible things, but this? Coming from P20 and making that move so late in the race? It was beautiful. I mean, how often do you see a car that was in pieces last night come back and win? I had to give credit where it’s due. Max drove brilliantly, but the car was something else.”
Journalist 3: "Fernando, before the race, you made a comment that there was no way Max would be competitive today with his car as it was. Now that Max overtook you and finished P1, what do you have to say?"
Alonso(smirking):“I didn’t expect that. I’ll admit, I underestimated Red Bull—clearly. Max was on fire, but I have to give credit to that engineer as well. Sam (Looks at Max to check if he said the right name) worked a miracle. I don't know what they are paying him but he deserves a raise.”
Journalist 4: "Max, you mentioned you were nervous at one point. Could you share more about what was going on in your mind, and what Sam said to you over the radio?"
Max(laughing): “Yeah, I had a bit of a moment after the last pit stop. We were in a good position, but it was still tight. I said something about needing a bit of luck, and Sam just said, ‘You don’t need luck, Max’ That kind of snapped me right out of it. I can trust him so say what he means and so that blind trust in me, the car,... everything really, it definitely helped.”
Journalist 5: "Christian, Sam really seems to be the star behind the scenes today. How important was his role in this win?"
Christian(smiling proudly): “Oh, massively important. Sam’s saved this race. He’s been awake for over 24 hours straight, flew halfway across the world, and still managed to pull off something we thought was impossible. Max trusted him, and you can see why.”
More drivers reacting to Max's win:
Lewis Hamilton: "I didn’t see that one coming. Max was brilliant, but I have to give it up to Sam and Red Bull. They pulled something special out of the bag. That move caught me off guard, and by the time I got back on track, Sebastian and Kimi had already slipped past. Fair play to them."
Kimi Räikkönen(deadpan): "Max was fast. I took my chance when Lewis went wide. It was a good race."
Charles Leclerc: "Max’s race was crazy, but I think everyone’s talking about Sam now. What they did with that car is unheard of."
Fan Reactions:
@F1crazeee: "SAM TELLING MAX 'YOU DON'T NEED LUCK, YOU’VE GOT THIS' WHEN MAX WAS NERVOUS???? STOP IT I CAN’T BREATHE. That man literally saved the race and was so nice about it."
@drivertakes: "Forget Max, the real MVP is Sam. That dude is out here pulling miracles on zero sleep and still had the sass to tell Max he didn’t need luck."
@KJellbergFam: "Alonso eating his words post-race after getting overtaken by Max 🤣 Max was on fire, but Sam… man, Alonso was NOT ready for that."
@SebFan4Ever: "Seb’s radio when Max passed him? Wholesome. He knows when to appreciate a brilliant move."
@TeamLH44: "Lewis totally caught off guard when Max made that move. And then two just sliding past while Lewis is getting back on track—pain."
Video: Max laughing about Sam’s sassy radio message during the post-race interview
@maxsassclub: "Max wishing for luck and being all nervous and Sam just telling him ‘You don't need luck, you've got this’ with full confidence... they’re THE duo. I’m obsessed with this friendship."
@RBmiracleworker: "Sam's sass is undefeated. Dude basically told Max, ‘Don't worry, you're good, you’re gonna win.’ And guess what? He was right."
Video: Christian, Max, and Sam hugging again, in the garage after initial celebrations, all emotional
@F1Feels: "All three of them had tears in their eyes after that win. Sam laughing and Max basically clutching him and not letting go… my heart is melting."
@FanaticRacer: "Christian literally spun Max around like he was his kid, and then Max sprinted to Sam for a hug. The emotion, the friendship, the trust... I’m crying."
Video: Toto Wolff's surprised face when he realizes Sam’s the engineer and not a middle-aged man
@wolfpacksurprise: "Toto thought he was about to meet some veteran engineer and instead got a sleep-deprived kid barely in his 20s suffering from jet-lag. Man’s reaction was priceless."
@F1memes: "Toto’s face when he sees Sam analysing race data instead of celebrating… this kid doesn’t stop."
@SilverArrowsArmy: "Toto offering Sam a job on the spot at Mercedes... if that isn’t the highest compliment, idk what is."
@SamTheGenius: "Not only is Sam a genius, but that Red Bull gear on him today… 🔥🔥🔥 Is it too much to ask to get a full Sam cam during races??"
@Pewdsbrofan: "Sam Kjellberg: race strategist, miracle worker, and thirst trap in Red Bull attire. Pewds’ brother did THAT."
@F1forever: "Can we talk about Sam not even celebrating? This guy is literally analysing data while everyone else is losing their minds. I love him."
The realisation of fens who didn't know Sam is PewDiePie’s brother
@PewdsArmy: "WAIT, SAM IS PEWDIEPIE’S BROTHER?? Did Felix even realise what his brother just pulled off?? The whole F1 world is losing it."
@F1PewdsConnection: "Sam literally saving Max’s race and Felix probably doesn’t even know what went down. This family is something else."
@F1obsessed44: I just found out Sam is apparently Pewdiepie's brother and all I find it hilarious. Their parents must be so proud of their two sons: Sam- genius, knows how to use a kitchen, beautiful hands and then there's Felix who spends his days screaming at his monitor in front of the camera, burns water and is build like a stick figure drawn by a child... lmao ->@charloswin: @F1obsessed44 damn you did pewds dirty my dude... but fair enough
#fanfic#writing#max verstappen x male reader#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen#funny#pewdiepie x brother!reader#pewdiepie x sibling!reader#max verstappen x male oc#pewdiepie
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doodles
edgar vargas and squee by johnen vasquez
scriabin by zarla-s
#sunny's art#vargas#edgar vargas#vargas zarla#scriabin vargas#zarla s#scriabin#doodles#YOU THOUGHT YOU'D SEEN THE LAST OF ME . . . . !!!!#well HELLO !!!! I'M BACK !!!!!!!!#got a new brush . what do you think of it do you like it#okay i want to ramble about these wait a second#the first one looks a bit different to the rest because i was just trying new stuff .#if i spend a long time without drawing i'll forget how to draw and well it happened#i've changed my art style like 3 times now but i still draw side profiles the same . looks weird ugh#the mug says “ JESUS loves me BECAUSE no one else will ” btw . meta gave me the idea actually . thanks meta .#about the second one . finished that one like ten minutes ago . missed drawing todd aw#i just find their whole relationship so amusing .#like yes i went crazy for like a month and now i have a brother-husband and a kid ?!#they complement each other so well though . i love them#THE UNO ONE omg i've had that idea for like A YEAR NOW and i just drew it lol#i wonder how long it would take scriabin to notice though .#when i showed this to meta she said : “ oh wow !! edgar's finally winning at something !! ” and it's SO TRUE#wonder how he does it !#and the last one . i got the idea when i was looking through zarla's account searching for fan art .#love it so much though they look like their lives aren't a living hell#anyways i'll probably make more of these . who knows#going back to school on monday . and of course i had to get inspiration four days before going back .#please PLEASE I DON'T WANT TO GET BACK TO SCHOOL . PL#okay byeee enjoy these . eat my starved followers . EAT !!!!!
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things i think buddie would argue about after moving in together: buying organic, the tupperware cabinet, couch throw pillows, the coffee maker
#yes i will elaborate#yk bucks buying all organic and name brand. eddie only buys organic or name brand if buck or chris want it. otherwise its gonna be generic#like if chris wants cheezits then hes getting cheezits if buck wants organic fruit leather then buck is getting his organic fruit leather#but if eddie wants oreos hes getting twist and shouts or sandwich creme cookies or whatever generic brand is available#every grocery trip is like just grab organic lettuce eddie. it doesnt matter buck just cuz theres no dirt on it doesnt mean its not lettuce#and the tupperware cabinet at the diaz (buck changes his last name to diaz okay he told me himself) house is crazy#i just know bucks tupperware cabinet in the loft is organized like crazy prob has labels or something. have you seen his immaculate kitchen#eddies tupperware cabinet is based on vibes. he tries to keep it organized but chris keeps coming home with more for some reason and theyre#all different sizes and theres no good way to condense them so theyre all just kinda in there and the cabinet closes so thats good enough#and that cabinet is the bane of bucks existence bc eddie let him have free rein over organizing everything else in the kitchen except#the tupperware cabinet#seriously eddie why cant we just throw some of these away and make some room in here?#oh suddenly mr we need to buy organic sustainably grown toilet paper wants to throw plastic directly into a landfill? absolutely not buck#and about the throw pillows#i just know mr eddie diaz loves home goods hes prob a member of the finders club or something#that man is decorating for all holidays and changes the pillows every season (canon) and buck well. weve seen the loft its the bare minimum#eddie comes back from home goods with a new pillow set and buck is like. eddie. eddie we have a dozen pillows already why do we need more??#none of the old ones match the new painting.#the new painting?? what new painting???#the coffee maker is a constant battle#because buck has had a hildy coffee maker for years and when he tried to set it up at eddies eddie was like. no. get that out of my house#and bucks like your house?? i thought this was our house 😔😔😔#oh baby i didnt mean that ofc its our house everything of mine is also yours#so i can set up hildy in our house right?#no.#and so buck is always dramatic as hell whenever he makes a pot of coffee.#oh if only i could set the brew cycle to match our work schedule. oh imagine how much we could save on the electric bill if it could put#itself to sleep after brewing. eddie. eds. babe if we could brew coffee from our phones then we could cuddle longer in the mornings#buck no. that thing is not allowed in this house.#me thinks
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I know this is a blog focused mainly on athy (as it should) but I would like to ask you if you know what is the official flower of jennette? The other day I saw a person who uploaded an image of the Athanasia paper doll and there was the rose - which we all know is the official flower of athy - but there was also a paper doll of Jennette with a yellow flower (I think it's zinnia but i'm not sure) and that caught my attention because if on athy's page she was with her official flower, wouldn't that mean that is also jennette's official flower? I know it's not relevant to you but how do you know so many things I wanted to know if you know if spoon ever talked about a flower that she related to jennette how did she do it with the other characters or not? Sorry for bothering 😣
Oh, about the flowers on the paper doll book, the answer is way less exciting than I would like to tell you. The thing is... all pages have the same couple of layouts. Athy also has pages with the yellow flowers. So while i.e. the baby Athy dolls are obviously paired up with her little bags of jewels, or the teen Athy dolls with roses and the lotuses from the lake, the Jennette dolls also have mostly the same decorations (probably because she doesn't have that many character-unique props? If that makes sense. I recall her having the ribbon she gifted Athy though).
To my knowledge, Spoon has never talked about a flower that fits Jennette, and since she doesn't have a lot merch (such as, the character pins for Athy and co., that used flowers in their designs), it's kind of hard to give an answer based on canon material. But I think that the most obvious answer would be daisies (aka Margaritas), because of her last name (Margarita or Magrita depending on the translation). I'm almost certain she has a couple of panels with daisies too, and I do associate them with her.
I want to think that Plutus chose Margarita as her last name on purpose, since Athy is named after a flower (as well as Lily) (I know her name matters most because of the immortal meaning, but there's no way Plutus didn't find out it's also a flower while researching it. It's literally on the Wikipedia page). Here is a fun fact: Athanasias (the flower) and daisies come from the same genus or flower family!
#wmmap#i found out like last year that athanasias and daisies come from the same flower family and was like#'Plutus!! You didn't... did you? Is this a crazy coincidence or are you a symbolism genius?'#i've seen people say lilies are Jennette's flowers but I always thought those were Lily's. Its her literal name!#Or Helena's in any case who also has a canon connection to them#also its np anon. while yeah this blog is mainly focused on Athy (not even on purpose i just love her that much)#i dont mind getting asks about other characters (though yes i enjoy talking about Lucas and Athy the most)#(as im sure everyone can tell lmfao)#as for other canon flowers for the rest of the characters: Claude's pin and a couple of panels associate him with peonies#Lucas' pin and perfume as well as SO many panels associate him with poppies and spider lilies#and Ijekiel's pin uses narcissuses and/or calla lilies? those were harder to identify#all very fitting i think
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#ok we're gonna try to finish this story in under 30 tags ok let's go#SO. 'hahaha yeah wow that's crazy that you know him! we did date yeah. (does not elaborate)'#but. okay confession time. i know this was a questionable choice. it was selfish. it fed the brain gremlin that craves validation#but i never blocked M on snapchat#so even though we never talked. i could see when he viewed my stories. and i won't lie. there is a smug part of me that enjoyed#letting him see me go on about my life.#i am a flawed bitch. so sue me. it was a manageable amount of contact that didn't send me into spirals#and he DID keep viewing them.#he even messaged me once! i don't know maybe a year ago. it was totally out of the blue. 'saw this book and thought of you' on a picture of#a nice edition of The Hobbit. i didn't respond. i had to have a petty moment for all the times during the Bad Era when i tried to message#him and he took too long (in my shitty estimation) to message back. so i left him on read. for like a year#okay you can see where this is going so I'll cut to the chase#'i ran into a friend of yours' is a perfectly reasonable conversation starter. it can be the whole conversation if it needs to be.#well. it wasn't#idk. my world state for the last six years has been 'M doesn't care for me and there is no world in which we ever have a civil chat again.'#well. that doesn't track with 'it's past my bedtime but i don't mind staying up to chat' and 'i would love to get an earful about podcasts'#and 'let's chat again' and 'it was really great to hear from you'#idk. i don't know what emotion i should feel. anger is gonna be the first one that makes it to the surface i think#got a good healthy dose of anger happening#grief. i do think there's some grief. mmhmm yep there it is#there are probably some positive emotions but those are the most strenuously repressed and i don't think I'm ready to let the collar off#i have made a lot of choices in the last six years to protect my mental health specifically because of how that relationship ended#so even just talking to him is. well for one thing it's playing a bit fast and loose with the health i have managed to build up#i feel good. my life has been good lately. my therapist moved me from monthly to once every three months. my social life is the most#thriving it's ever been#i am possibly in a place to unbox some things that were thrown in the attic as an emergency measure#i should talk to my therapist
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my dad sometimes does things that are very sweet and they overwhelm me
#bc until i got really mentally ill he didnt pay much attention to me at all but in the last 2 years he cares so much#like even the little things.. which is very crazy and a bit scary because i was used to being treated indifferently by him#like today he went out on a breakfast date with my mom and he brought me a little calendar filled with paintings#and he was like oh well i saw the different artworks in it and i thought that you would want to recreate them to practice painting again#bc i told him about how my psychologist suggested getting back into hobbies and taking less courses at uni to work on my depression#anyway lol. um..#i feel so weird hes nice and its .. well its nice and also it makes me sad idk#z.post
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As of yet unnamed game card art!
#pixelart#pixel art#card game design#card games#scottish mythology#Happy new year gang#I've been on my course for a good while now. I have a new very close friend from it and have made a few others as well#Our little group is in a discord and we're all a good bit nerdy haha#I'm far from the oldest one in the class/group which is always good to see#We got two weeks off for winter break which is great. We come back tomorrow. I'm not ready lmao.#But with the time I got I treated it like a game jam. Me and friend were like “we got two weeks let's make what we can”#And I wasted the first few days. Not by not working but by using AI to try and help with code. Turns out it's terrible at it.#I've been openly anti-AI but our course encourages us to use it for coding so I thought it would be good at games.#Nope. It's dogshit. It worked for a while but I ended up working so much more efficiently just making the code myself#So this new game. It's a card game. you might be thinking “This has nothing to do with the 16 characters you were making what happened??”#It's all connected. ALL of it. Greenhollow. HoaM. Elphame. This new project. The 16 characters. They're all connected.#It's gonna sound like the story will be oversaturated and it is. But I'm not worried about that rn. Just making sure the game is fun.#And I can confirm: The game is fun. It's playable. Graeme and I have been playing it a ton and I feel so happy. I love designing the cards#I don't want to explicitly state what's up but here's a clue: These 20 cards are all playable by the ISTP character#That will either make you understand completely or not help you at all.#Anyway. I'm tying in previous projects so they all get to tell their story. My sister made designs for characters ages ago#and I'm finally getting to show them. One is on one of these cards. But I intend to show all of them and tell all their stories#Of course since there are so many characters a lot of the little side stories will be optional.#I'm getting ahead of myself. But I'm loving doing art and programming for this rn. Tomorrow I return to DA lifestyle...#But at the end of the month I'll be a lot less busy and might get to work on this again. No idea of a release ETA#but in 2 weeks I've done 20 cards. I'm hoping for between 128-256 (I love symmetry). That said it's faster once I'm in the habit of it.#I have a little bit of programming left before this version is final (4 cards left) but yeah. It's looking damn good.#I'm not as manic as the last post but I am very proud of myself#Also 2024 was my favourite year for movies lmao. Inside out 2 wicked and sonic 3 were all amazing All 3 make me sob like a baby#2024 was crazy. I lived so much hahaha. I met a lot of people and travelled so much and got so fit (then lost it all in winter)
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... hubby!Gojo with a huge breeding kink who just obsesses over you when you're ovulating and can't think about anything else but fucking a baby into your hips.
+ warnings; mdni, breeding kink, some dumbification
+ an; I literally had this idea in my drafts for a year... 😳
Maybe he's got a freaky sixth sense, maybe it's just because he's got heightened senses, or maybe there's some scientific studies to back it up; but Gojo can smell when you're ovulating. And it turns him on — of course it does. He has a bigger breeding kink than you do.
"Oh, you're ovulating." he notes after sniffing your skin... and you do a double take like he's insane. Because he is insane — you married a madman.
He pays closer attention to your cycle than you do, reminding you to mark down when you get your period, and coddling you in the days leading up to ovulation.
"Satoru, it's just an estimation." you tell him, but he's got a glow in his eyes when he sees your period tracker app telling him that today's your most fertile day — if he cums in you today, it's basically guaranteed.
He researches positions that help conception, bends and pushes you into them, and fucks you deep with his thick cock, going harder on your poor hole than he normally does — grunting more than he normally does, throbbing more than he normally does... like it just awakens something primal in him, and now he's obsessively fucking you like he has no other purpose but to breed his sweet little wife.
"Nn! Satoruuu!" you whine and paw at his torso, your walls overwhelmed by the pressure of his cock splitting you open.
"Yes babyyy?" he coos, giving you a crooked, blissed-out smile as he tilts his head.
There's sweat dripping off his abs, his pink nipples are hard, his biceps are twitching, and he's running one hand through his dampened white hair as he stills inside you for a moment.
"'s too deep! T-too big!" you moan lewdly, a bit of drool escaping the corner of your mouth.
"...aw, I know I'm just too big for ya, huh?" he coos cockily; hearing you tell him that he's 'too big' never gets old.
He's so determined to give you his baby that he tries everything to increase the chances; staying inside you for 5 minutes after shooting his load in, having you rest with a pillow under your back so your hips are raised — "Gotta help my lil' guys swim." he acts like an idiot about it, but sweetly so. Nothing excites him more than the idea of being a dad, except the idea of fathering your children.
After sex, when the two of you are cleaning up, Satoru feels over and massages your tummy with a small smile on his face. He's lost in thought, hair all messy and face tired like he's run a marathon, hopeful that this time he got you pregnant.
He'll pamper you like his queen, humming and going to the ends of the earth to get you anything you ask for. He really fawns over you when you're ovulating, and lays on the compliments thick while snuggling your neck and creeping his fingers up your thighs — pretty soon he'll sink them inside and stretch you out on them, preparing you for what he cutely calls "baby making" but is actually sweaty, nasty, kinky sex — there's a definite difference in the cute, snuggly sex and the literal breeding sessions no matter how much he plays it off.
"Satoru... my legs are still weak after this morning, give me a break, will you?"
"Aw come on, this is an innocent request... and if babymaking happens, it happens..." he mutters the last part under his breath.
"You're crazy."
But you know you're gonna fall for it after you take one look at his rock-hard, juicy pink, dummy big cock and those breeder balls.
He just beams victoriously when you hop over to him like a little bunny.
Satoru's pushes into you as deep as your pussy allows him, and then some more just to pressure your deepest spot, pinning your wrists down and whispering sultrily into your ear about how well you take him, how beautiful you look, how good it feels to fuck your fertile pussy knowing that he'll most definitely get you pregnant because his cum is perfect; thick and sticky and gooey and pungent, perfect just like he is — the cocky bastard.
When his creampies makes you cum, A-spot pressured with his pulsing tip, he grins so wide that you scold him about it.
"Stop grinning like a psychopath." you pant.
He just looks up at you, face hardly an inch away, and asks a dumb, smiley "D'you feel pregnant?" ... as if it happens so fast.
"Gee, I don't know, we should go again just to make sure — that was a joke, that was a joke! Nn! Satoru!" too late, he's flipping you over and slowly filling you up again.
And oh god Satoru loves sliding back in for round twos. The smell of sex and cum wafting up and hitting his nose just makes him plunge back into your cum-filled little hole with only one thing in mind and that is breeding you 'till you're stuffed to the max.
"Come on, y' gonna be a good wifey for me and get knocked up?" he rasps against your ear, thrusting his cock up into your sensitive spots until his creampies turn into whipped cream, frothed up and milky-white and smeared on your pussy lips.
Like the nasty boy he is (and always has been, even before marriage), Satoru forces your head down and makes you watch him fuck his dummy big cock into you.
"Yeah, watch that cock fill you up... look at all my cum leaking out..." he tuts, "... don't be so wasteful, baby... oh well, 'm gonna fuck it back into you anyways. Come on, let me in deeper — aw, what's wrong?" he coos when you claw at his meaty bicep.
"'toruuu, so deep! Y-you're so fucking deep, I can't think..."
His heart pangs when he hears you complain about being too stuffed, "Oh baby you don't need to think, just lay there and let me put a baby in your sweet pussy — gonna fuck you so dumb, the only name you'll remember is mine."
Of course, he has to get a creampie in every day. Sometimes even a few times a day. Sometimes even at 4 AM, and you swat him for being a horny idiot — but it takes five minutes to give in because you can hear the need in his voice when he whines "Please?" and starts humping against you, "I've got so much cum for you." he tells you and though it sounds so sweet in his soft, bedroom voice it's hard to take him as an innocent man, because his thick boner is grinding hard and hot between your plush lips.
You can bet you'll probably only get to sleep when the birds are chirping, 'cause your hubby's balls are too heavy and full of cum and he needs to drain himself inside you — oh, and you can also bet that afterwards he will be sleeping like a princess, clinging to you with his face snuggled into your tummy.
#mdni#tw: smut#gojo#gojo smut#gojo x reader smut#gojo x reader#jjk smut#jjk x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo satoru smut#satoru smut#satoru gojo smut#satoru gojo x reader#jjk x reader#jjk#gojo satoru#smut#fluff
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Misty Affections [The L&DS Boys - NSFW]
Rated: NSFW/18+ 🌶️ (Take note of all warnings before you proceed) Pairings: L&DS Men/Reader Word Count: 6k+
Tags: polyandry/polygamy, bath/shower friskiness, multiple orgasms, oral, anal and vaginal sex, body worship, porn with little plot, double penetration, consensual somnophilia, edging, passing hints of breeding, scent kink
Summary: At the eve of your anniversary, you let the men, most precious to your heart, show you exactly how they love and cherish you. Slow and measured. Piece by piece.
Author’s Notes: I have been driven so insane ever since the drop of that crazy trailer, all I’ve been able to fantasize about are these beautiful men. Did so individually at first before they eventually converged within my mind into this behemoth romantic-sexy fest. (If you know me or my stories, you know I cannot go a second breathing without a little love in my sex LOL)
This one’s for all my harem loving folks who’ve been left thirsty after the “Misty Invasions” trailer. Happy reading!
You oscillate at the entrance to the penthouse suite, fingers tracing the sleek outline of the key card your boyfriend had provided you with, earlier; eager gaze skittering back towards the door. Heart within your throat and a swarm of butterflies flittering within the base of your stomach.
An entire year had passed you by; the day of your relationship anniversary upon you now. And you’d decided amongst you, in distinct words and heated whispers, that you’d make it a day well worth commemorating.
You smile at the recollection of Sylus’ amused gaze — blood-red garnet — as it had met your surprised one, a few days prior. He’d had you search up his entire house for an elusive Mephisto, on the pretence of having lost sight of him. Finding him at last, perched atop the silken pillows of his bed. And held within his beak, a sleek black card the bird had let drop into your palm, obedient, before taking flight.
A key access to the penthouse suite of one of the most luxurious hotels in Linkon City.
Sylus had tugged you close — his warm breath, a sweet caress against the shell of your ear — stating the date and time for you to be there, without questions asked. Your heart had thrilled at the time in nervous anticipation.
Just as it does now as you move to hoist your umbrella — damp still from the outpour outside — onto your arm, clutching a bouquet of flowers close to your chest.
Reaching to swipe your card, at long last, against the room’s digital pad—
Before the door sways open on its own. Your gaze skipping, immediate, to meet the owner’s: scarlet, warm in amused affection. “How much longer were you planning to dither at the door?” His hand curves about yours as he steers you inside. Reaching to help you out with your coat and umbrella.
“How did you even—”
Sylus angles his face in mute indication, at the door, just in time for you to catch sight of Mephisto sweeping across the hallway, disappearing just as swift around a corner, with a triumphant crow.
“I am going to cook that bird one of these days,” you mutter, discomfited at the thought of Sylus having been standing privy to your entire vacillation session outside.
A large hand curls about your jaw, insisting your gaze upwards, just as you feel the heat of Sylus’ mouth on yours. “Don’t fret any longer,” his lips brushing each word right against yours. Every stroke tending sparks of fire against your skin. “you’ll make me want to tease you. And I promised them I’d be kind to you today.” The thick baritone of his quiet laughter sinks, hot, into your chest; down into the depths of your belly.
Your hand curves about the back of his neck, heaving that infuriating mouth back against yours. “Please do be quiet for once.” Fingers grazing at the base of his hair before they card upwards, tugging at the strands.
His mouth pulls into a wider smile, just as you all but force the large bouquet of flowers you still carry, against the firm expanse of his chest.
“Happy anniversary, Sylus.” You murmur softly, flushed gaze fixated upon the flowers — snowdrops and lilies, roses and clematis — a representation of each of their colours that had painted your life brighter, over the course of your years together. You truly hoped your boyfriends would love them.
Garnet gaze narrowing in quiet affection, Sylus coaxes your attentions back to him with a call of your name. “And to you.”
“Now,” He winds an arm about your waist, dragging you flush against his torso. “let me find a place for these beauties while you go hop into the shower. You’re cold to the touch.” And when you move to protest, he silences it with a delicate brush of his thumb against your lip before he too bows forwards, to murmur, just shy of your mouth. “I promise you won’t miss me long, sweetheart.”
Leaving you in the stewing solace of your own indecent thoughts.
Your relieved exhale breaks in soft wisps of white curling into the air, well comforted by the heat of your quick shower. Your eyes drifting absently towards the bath you’d drawn, your favourite scent now permeating the space of your bathroom.
Petals rippling across the surface of placid warm waters; you knew how your artist appreciated the romanticism of your relationship. When you let yourself go and allowed yourself free expression of your adoration, for your Lemurian beloved. The colour, it never failed to bring flush to his cheeks at your simple gestures of affection, he so deserved. He had waited, and for so long.
A mere speck of his patience, against your current restless wait, ever since his message had lighted your screen earlier this evening, indicating he’d be there to join you, soon.
Sooner, you whisper into the air, slinking a cautious hand down the line of your stomach and towards your mound.
It was so incredibly difficult to have all your lovers, gathered together in one place, owing to how busy each of you were with your respective schedules. Tonight, hence, was a rare, precious occasion and you intended to make the most of it.
“Why so distracted.” A deep voice resonates at your back; a swift curl of pulsating red capturing your wrist before your fingers have the chance to brush in between your legs. Heaving your wrist up and back, depositing it prisoner into Sylus’ waiting palm. “You barely noticed me.” The roughened pads of his digits graze at the tender skin of your wrist in soft warning, before he lets go. “Couldn’t wait even a moment for me, huh?”
You turn to face him, a puckish smile you know is already teasing at the corners of your mouth. “Just engaging in some personal time.”
Sylus stands before you, body bare, save for the towel that keeps him from you, wrapped about his waist. A sturdy arm reaches past your shoulder, turning the shower off. Motions entirely unhurried. Deceptively tranquil, you do not miss the blood-red heat that simmers at the edges of that observing gaze.
“Oh?” He crowds you a step closer into the wall. Your fingers coast in tense anticipation about the knot of his towel. “You wouldn’t mind if I turned that into a private time for two, would you, kitten?”
You put on a deliberate show of pondering the question; a patient raised brow your lover keeps focused upon you.
Until you tip a coquettish gaze his way and answer. “I suppose I would no—” Your response, Sylus pilfers from your tongue before you can utter it, pulsing a quick kiss of violence against your lips.
Your digits impatiently work to release him from the final confines of his towel, absently tossing it aside. And onto the gnarled vines of red lurking at the edges of your vision, immediately reach to snatch up the cloth, discarding it into a wash bin close by.
Laughter in between heavy breaths; coveting fingers, free at last, skate down the strength of his thighs, skimming past his stiff arousal. A small gasp of appreciation you break against his mouth just as Sylus lurches his hips forward, once, into your grasp to better let you admire the effect you have on him.
“It’s been too long.” you murmur into the space he spares you in between wet kisses.
“Darling,” he exhales; a small, rough sound of pleasure. “Not yet.”
Sylus’ hands stir down the length of your body, fingers finding target, and pulsing into the soft of your ass before you can try and bribe your case with him, to give you what you want. Hefting you up entirely onto the corded strength of his arms, stifling your sound of surprise against his mouth.
He bids you wrap your legs about his waist, as he walks you both over towards the luxurious bath. “Now,” Settling down into the warm, scented water, he eases you back against himself. “Let us get you washed properly.”
You eventually relent and let him do as he pleases for the next several minutes.
Drifting a careful hand about the expanse of your legs, you try not to squirm too much when that devious hand skirts about your inner thighs. Across the arc of your clavicle, down the slope of your breastbone. His palms bear down against your abdomen in provocative press-release motions. You're not quite sure what kind of bathing Sylus assumes he’s doing except just keying you higher, the longer you endure his hands upon you.
Hands that grow unrepentant and bold with time, the self-pleased skew of those infuriating lips following soon after, down the slope of your neck, along the curve of your shoulder. You tip your face sideways, smoothing a quick kiss onto his jaw. “You keep this up any longer and you’re going to have an incredibly frustrated woman on your hands.”
He buries his grin into your shoulder.
“And I’m not sure what I’ll do then.” you threaten mildly.
“Is that so? I’d certainly like to see you try.” He accepts your provocation.
You reach an arm up, winding it about his neck. Fingers splaying against the damp brush of his hair as you angle your head up and he obliges, head canting for your mouth to catch against his. His tongue sweeps against yours in immediate insistence, your eager allowance in the slack fall of your mouth as he presses into you.
Sylus’ indolent digits change tune then; a large palm he curves about the weight of your breast and squeezes. The roughened pads of them toying at the pert apex, until he coaxes your moans out for himself.
The muted click of a lock sounds within your surroundings; quiet, save for the gentle ripples of water and your damp sounds of pleasure.
“Ah,” Sylus murmurs in between kisses. “He’s here now. We would’ve ended up using the little princeling’s entire bath for ourselves if he’d turned up any later.”
A thrill of pleasure and adoring desire crests itself within your chest, calling your approaching beloved’s name on a long sigh of pleasure Sylus wrenches out of you. “That’s it, sweetheart, tempt him on higher sounds next.”
Restless within his lap, you wrench your mouth away from his, raising yourself onto your knees to turn, capturing him in between your thighs.
Just as Rafayel steps past the threshold of the baths, appearing to be in the midst of wresting himself out a long sodden shirt. You absently muse how he must’ve forgotten to carry an umbrella with him, yet again, out on one of his painting expeditions, despite your reminder to him just last night. “It’s pouring crazy out there and I’m drenched to the bone—”
His words nicked mid-sentence with the slow rise of those bluish-florid eyes — taking in the lascivious scene in front — along with your thoughts torn into jagged shards of pleasure with the firm catch of Sylus’ teeth against your breast. A large hand he splays at your back, enticing you closer into his mouth.
Your eyes, refusing to stray from Rafayel’s, even as he remains rooted to the threshold. A flush beginning to colour against the arch of his cheeks to witness how Sylus augments your pleasure further underneath his enraptured gaze.
Pleased joy ripples through you, to be putting on a tantalising show for your beloved Lemurian, entreating him closer on soft sighs and broken moans of his name.
“Please,” your next gasp of pleasure scatters under the prick of stimulated tears. “Rafayel, my heart, come to me.”
And like a beautiful marionette pulled upon by its strings, he obeys your request, striding towards the two of you. Bestowing mercy upon your poor heart, you feel, could pound right out of your chest.
He tips downwards, long, graceful digits sweeping delicate beneath the cut of your jaw to raise. Brushing a sweet kiss of greeting against your mouth. “I’m here, beloved.”
Fingers refusing to cease his exploratory touches, his thumb glides past your cheeks, dusting right beneath your eyes at stray tears.
“Welcome home,” you greet, your own fingers curving about his jaw in hazy affection.
“You’re late,” Sylus speaks, his hand trekking a careful path about the flare of your hip.
Rafayel frowns at that. “I know. Not like I didn’t try to be here sooner.” Fingers tinkering at his belt buckle before he slides it, smooth out of its confines. Your eager hands reaching to assist, rushing down the line of buttons at his shirt, divesting him of his impediments.
“You’re freezing, Rafayel.” You observe, palms pressed up against his naked abdomen.
He catches one of your hands within his, feathering a kiss onto your knuckles. “Warm me, then.” An irrefutable instruction as much as it is his soft request.
Relieved entirely of his clothes, he steps into the bath, fingers entwining against yours in a firm hold, coaxing you onto his body instead.
“You're so cosy.” He appreciates in between hungering kisses. “Share more of your heat with me.” The soft squish of your breasts mould against the solid expanse of his chest the deeper you try and press against the other, your arms encased about his neck, fingers carding greedily through the wet strands of his hair.
Rafayel shifts your positions, guiding you back against Sylus’ chest by your threaded digits. The hard heat of Sylus’ cock presses against the cleft of your ass as Rafayel drives you further in by the urgency of his kisses.
His bond shimmers to life — a scarlet vow — right above his heart, your own thrilled by the rapidly dissipating chill of his body, replaced with passionate warmth.
“I’ve missed you.” He drags your intertwined digits closer, directing your hand to press against the thrumming of his heart. “And especially today, being so important. I wanted to be next to you for the entirety of it.”
Rafayel’s eyes, misted in desire and affection so acute, your breath catches at your throat at the sheer intensity of it. He secretes a gentle kiss into the fold of your palm. “I want us to make this a memorable anniversary.”
“You already are.” You keen softly, in assurance, fingers stroking down the length of Sylus’ thigh. “I desire you both so very much right now.”
He returns your fervent regard in the thick digits that skim past the curve of your spine, fingering in sparing strokes at the rim of your ass. You gasp at the sensation, body clenching in on the emptiness it has long been subjected to.
You need them both; the carnal strength of your want winds you breathless.
Sylus had left you suspended upon a torturous precipice for so long, you weren’t sure how much longer you could hold on for.
“Hey,” Rafayel prompts.
Garnet binds immediately spring to life, streaking towards the bottles lined up neat atop a marble slab. Plucking one up as if by rote memory, before depositing it into Rafayel’s grasp. “As our princeling desires,” Sylus speaks; the raw amusement you can hear within his words.
Rafayel’s response is all but a raised brow — they have learned to synchronize well against each other, you realize with a shaky exhale. You are glad, as you are nervous, for the state of your body; the havoc they wreck onto you, once your boys are in tandem.
The lubricant well-smeared across Rafayel’s digits, he reaches in between your bodies to run his fingers against the same place Sylus does, two sets of different fingers they ease, gentle, into your ass. Rafayel’s low groan of pleasure, you lunge forwards to drink against your lips.
“I need—” you cry out against him, just as Rafayel withdraws from you entirely to leave Sylus to press his fingers deeper into you, a slow, caressing slide; eased by their gentle loosening of your hole.
Rafayel hums a low, euphoric sound. “Do you need him deep inside you, my love?”
“Yes.”
“You’re almost there for me, sweetheart. Breathe.” Sylus’ grunt of approval at your compliance, he drowns into a relishing bite at your shoulder.
Rafayel’s mouth descends upon your breasts, pulsing open mouthed kisses right above the expanse of your thundering heart, his fingers finding their way towards your neglected slit, mercifully pressing into you. A loud, broken moan wrenched out of your throat, pleasure now far palpable after having been edged for so long.
“You’re so wet. So very captivating when you are like this.”
“I love you, Rafayel.” you gasp, tears gathering at your eyes to feel so full of them both.
He pulses a kiss against your mouth in heated devotion, tongue warming against yours in between urgent breaths, “I am yours. Call for me, my beloved bride.”
“Rafayel.”
“Ah. Once more, so I know I am entirely yours to have.” he entreats, gaze heated.
His fingers gather pace — in tandem with Sylus’ controlled assault — striking rhythmic against your frontal walls on each thrust. A spot he gathers at, one that incinerates itself against his adept motions, insistent thumb gliding its touches about the sweet area of your apex, hurtling you faster towards a vehement finish.
“And that you are mine. Call my name, call for me.”
“Rafayel, my Rafayel.” And you tumble over the edge at that final delightfully sensual push, quivering nerveless, in between your lovers.
“There’s more of where that came from, kitten. Don’t give up on us now.” Sylus coaxes, extracting himself from the instinctual clench of your body, whimpering at the keen emptiness of his loss.
“Give yourselves to me,” you beg, “I need to feel you inside me.”
“And you shall have us,” Rafayel soothes, pressing the head of his cock against you.
“As many times as you need.” Sylus allows; the swell of his arousal striking heavy against the cleft of your ass.
The slow ingress of their cocks deep into your body, sends explosive stars skittering across your vision, the overwhelming fullness already throttling you into another orgasm so intense, they have to hold your body still against theirs. Propelling into you in tandem with each other until they set a rhythmic, burning pace within your swollen holes.
Rafayel’s fingers cup about your jaw, dragging you into a fervid, wet kiss. His moans of pleasure he drowns against the heat of your tongue.
Before Sylus lunges forward in a demand for your attentions next, strong digits threading through your locks to guide your head towards him, catching the string of pleasure that stretches thin in between your and Rafayel’s lips, as soon as it forms, against his mouth in a violent kiss.
The thick strength of his cock pulses firmer within your body, each swollen stroke of arousal you feel zip right up across your spine from how Sylus has taught your body to fit his daunting size, well. Each propulsion he carves deeper into your walls, a striking reminder of how intimately your body remembers the shape of him.
Rafayel takes to painting littered marks of pleasure against your neck, their lengths already throbbing in impending release, searing within you.
You squeeze about them at the sole, ruinous thought of their wet heats, flooding you soon. Moaning against Sylus’ mouth when their pacing turns reckless.
“Close,” Rafayel grits in need, cleaving your thighs up and open to constrain against Sylus, the man behind spares no mercy; hot scaffoldings of his own palms, he curves above Rafayel’s, so your sole choice is but to take.
“I’m almost, fuck—” Sylus groans a filthy, guttural sound, “you’ve gone so tight, sweetheart.” Burying his face into the stretch of your shoulder, just as Rafayel’s mouth finds yours at the apex of his pleasure, spurting hot within you.
Sylus’ own release, almost immediately after, his cock pulsates its thick release into your body, surge after surge of it, your body unable to accommodate it entirely. Their combined pleasures, the frenzied brush of both their fingers against your clit, sends you hurtling into your own orgasm, sobbing against Rafayel’s mouth.
Emptying them both, of their seed, for yourself.
You fall breathless against Sylus, strength and consciousness both seeming to flee with the final sparks of quivering pleasure that jolt about your limbs. Letting yourself rest against the strength of Sylus’ body as he soothes a kiss onto your damp temple. “A job well done, sweetheart.”
His final words, you accept in immense bliss, before entrusting yourself to your men in your vulnerability.
A long time has drifted by you, it seems — minutes or hours — you cannot quite tell the difference as your mind edges the cusp of awareness. You recall the sensation of your lovers’ hands upon you, phantom breaths that persist against the expanse of your skin, still. Words of adoration, grunts of desire, the press of their lips you feel within each sweet ache of your body.
The glancing touch of a hungering mouth, at the places you were weakest. The luxuriating stretch of silken sheets at your back — body coddled in soft fabric — as you shift, eyes drifting open on a haze of lust that still chokes your mind, a simmering wet heat kindling in between your legs. Flowing from you and onto an insistent tongue.
Your breath catches in your throat at the sensation, gaze rushing down the expanse of your body to snag at the sight of a silver-haired head buried in between the space of your legs, moon-pale strands brushing the skin of your thighs in ticklish strokes. “Oh. You’re awake.” Xavier speaks, right into your pussy. His fingers pulse about the catch of your legs, keeping you steady for a slow sweep of his tongue into your slit. Sending your fingers grappling forwards, into his hair, your hips lurching up into his mouth.
Cheeks flushing fast into crimson at the realisation of how wet he’s made you, in your slumber alone.
Xavier relents at last, rising from in between your legs. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself.” Your slick drenches his lips, smeared across his jaw; the sight sending a fresh jolt of arousal straight in between your legs.
“Xavier,” your voice sounds hoarse to your own ears. “starlight.”
He nuzzles his cheek, obedient, into the palm you stretch out for him. Pulses a wet kiss onto the expanse of sensitive skin. “We’re home.” He murmurs, clear cerulean eyes meeting yours.
“How have you been?” The quiet baritone of Zayne’s voice reaches your ears from above, you notice your head lies cradled within his lap, the pads of roughened fingertips scraping gentle circles into your scalp. You shift yourself upright onto the bed.
“Well. Now that you’re both here.” You curve coveting fingers about his jaw, luring his face closer to brush a gentle kiss against your lover’s mouth.
Zayne’s long changed out of his stifling attire, clad in a loose robe — he’s eased himself by your side. Carding absent fingers through the fall of your hair to hold steady, as you greet each other in chaste kisses.
The day’s harsh lines marred across his bow, softening with each kiss you flitter against his mouth, his cheeks, his lids apiece. He hasn’t had a proper weekend off from the hospital in ages; you’re determined to make the most of it now and help ease your beloved’s nerves tonight, and over the course of your rare days off.
You all deserved it, this short moment of reprieve, a chance to celebrate and enjoy what was purely yours.
You inch up across his lap, body much too aware of the moisture that soaks past swollen folds and leaks onto your thighs, an obscenity barely concealed by the flowing frills of your flimsy nightwear, caressing just past your ass. A fact, Xavier has not let you forget, owing to how his hands haven’t deprived you of their warmth, even when his mouth has — slow, stimulating touches across the stretch of your thighs, fingers tickling at the sensitive skin underneath your knees.
Xavier advances up the length of the bed, with you. His torso draping onto your back, careful hands gathering your hair to shift onto your other side, he grazes a demure kiss onto the crescent of your exposed shoulder.
You sink down upon Zayne, securing your much needed support, in the palms you press against the hard expanse of his chest. “How was your day?” Murmuring the question into the give of his neck.
“I had a graft and by-pass surgery planned earlier this afternoon.” Zayne replies, fingers trekking a measured path from your throat, down, along the slope of your clavicle; you shiver underneath his scrutiny. “It went well, so I was able to join you sooner rather than much later.”
“Owing all to your brilliance surely, Dr. Zayne.” Your affectionate smile, you secrete against his mouth. “Xavier, however. I expected you sooner, starlight.”
He hums — a sound of morose defeat — into your skin. “I nearly dozed on my feet during that unnecessarily long briefing.” Burying his face into the side of your neck, to breathe; his next murmurs stifled. “They could’ve just mailed the mission details to me. I wanted to head back with you too.”
You laugh softly, sinking your fingers indulgently into the silken strands of his hair. “Captain Jenna would be so upset if she heard you right now.”
“And you.” Large palms cup about the pliant flare of your waist, your breath hitches at Zayne’s provocative touch. “It certainly looks like those two did a somewhat decent job of taking care of you in our absence. The colour’s back in your cheeks.”
You smile, sheepish, at the remembrance of your last meeting; his displeased frown, vivid, from across the barrier of his work desk, as he’d prescribed a few vitamins for you to take, owing to the sallow pallor that had taken your face, an aftermath of long sleepless nights chasing Wanderers.
“Oh, they have.” You assure, “Speaking of, where are my missing two?”
Xavier’s teeth sink into a testing bite at the flesh of your neck. “Fixing a meal I think, Sylus mentioned.” He murmurs absently.
“Ah. We should all have—” your voice fractures. “dinner together.”
“Later.” Zayne leans forward, mouth skimming a gentle kiss in between your breasts. “Right now, I require you sate a different hunger of mine.” Teeth catching at the gauzy fabric of your lingerie. “Don’t make me wait any longer.” The low rugged quality to his request, pooling arousal deep into your belly.
“I like how she looks in this,” Xavier smooths a touch down the length of your thigh, fingering, gentle, at the frilled garter of the stocking encasing it. “I’m almost jealous of you, Doctor.”
“It is becoming on her,” Zayne agrees, large fingers cupping about the shape of your breasts, rolling at the peaks. You shift your hips in a grind upon his thigh, in an anguished effort for further stimulation. “But does the recipient herself approve of my gift?”
“She does,” you gasp. “If it gets you looking at her with such need, she does—” The rest of your words, Zayne pilfers right into his mouth in an engulfing kiss.
Strong fingers ghost the pliance of your body, down in between your legs to meet Xavier’s. Hot, glancing touches across your quivering pussy, coating their fingers in copious slick.
“The doctor looks so wound up,” Xavier comments mildly. “Help him relieve some of that pent-up stress, baby.”
“You—” Zayne grunts, just as Xavier steers your bodies until you lie, pliant, upon Zayne’s lap, the straining outline of his arousal barely concealed under the modesty of his robes. You moan enthusiastically, fingers undoing the fastenings of his robe to release him, free against eager lips.
“That looks painful,” Xavier comments with an insouciant shrug, hands firming their grip about your ass to raise. “How long have you been holding back?”
“Quiet, Xavier.” Zayne reproaches, voice throttled in raw need.
Your heart and body immediately melting for him, you put your mouth to the head of his cock, taking him in.
A quiver rips across his abdomen at the first lap of your tongue on him, his fingers gentle, encouraging within your hair. A vehement desire cascades forth: to see him make more of that expression, just for you.
“Wet him for yourself, just like that.” Xavier encourages on a soft catch of breath, tapered fingers curving into your drenched slit to stroke against your frontal walls.
Working your tongue steadily, about the generous girth of him — Zayne’s digits remain a patient point of pressure against your scalp — until he hits your throat, pleasant and full, at long last. You groan around him, Zayne swallowing heavily at the vibrations of your throat.
“Don’t be gentle.” Xavier speaks, releasing himself from the wet confines of your clenching walls — fingers he unfurls forwards, to smear across the free length of Zayne’s cock, your throat could not accommodate.
You feel Xavier settle heavy, upon the cleft of your ass; the head of his own cock he glides, indolent, in between your dripping folds.
And just as your insides flutter in impatient emptiness at the baiting stimulation, he enters you on a swift stroke, your garbled sound of pleasure, sending you deeper onto Zayne.
Xavier sets a furious, punishing pace for the three of you, your mouth working diligent against the hard strain of Zayne’s arousal. Your smothered cries of delight mixing with theirs, heated into the air; Zayne’s low guttural groans stirring deep into your belly, within the same space Xavier works open with his cock.
Your silver beast descends upon you, mouth working a steady path along the length of your spine, tongue sweeping a cool, wet trail in its wake.
His fingers reach to tuck stray strands of hair away from your face — easing them behind an ear before he gathers the fall of your hair into a gentle fist, granting an obstructed view of your ruination, to your lover in front.
The pleasured flush dashed across Zayne’s cheekbones, hurtles higher to witness the wreck of desire you know is upon your face. He looks at you as if he wants to love and ruin you, it sends a jolt of inundating slick, right between your legs.
Xavier grunts at your tightening walls, licking a strip up the curve of your ear. “Can I—” His voice ruptures in overwhelming arousal. “—inside? I want to. Let me?”
Your answer; a moan of vehement assent, intermixing with Zayne’s responsive groan. Come for me, Xavier.
His grip upon your hips turns bruising, pelvis driving hard against your ass until he’s releasing himself; hot, pulsating strokes of come, painting into you.
He pulls almost immediately out of your quivering walls, palms shifting underneath your body to lift, until he positions you, right atop Zayne’s drenched cock. His seed still spilling out onto the swollen head of him, just as he coaxes your hips down to take Zayne in, the two of you groaning out in concert at your union.
Zayne surges forwards, sweat soaked forehead pressing against yours; a low, inarticulate curse tumbles from his lips at the clench of your walls, still sensitised from Xavier’s release.
“You’re burning up.” Long, thick digits curve beneath the nerveless stretch of your thighs, guiding you in deep, measured thrusts over his cock. Xavier’s ministrations having had you well-prepared to accommodate Zayne in a single stroke.
On usual days, your body able to accept him only in gradual, pleasurable propulsions, he works deep into your pussy.
“Lean on me.” Zayne speaks.
You do as he asks, appreciative of the reprieve allowed to let go and let Zayne guide you both into bliss. His fingers stroke about your entrance, a thumb he grazes against your clit, in an electrifying jolt of pleasure.
“Come now.” He instructs the man at your back. Soothing a hand down the curve of your spine when you feel Xavier’s arousal, firmed into solid stone once more, at your entrance. You moan at the prospect of what’s to come. Never having accepted any of your lovers into the same space, when Zayne is inside you.
“Breathe for me.” He asks of you. “Look at me.” And you do, in willing love; gaze finding his, coddled in the comfort of his verdant eyes — steady — even in the heated throes of your combined passion. “I am here for you.”
Just as the head of Xavier’s cock presses, insistent at the base of Zayne’s, your body beginning to give into him. Zayne hastens to curb his grunt of pleasure into your mouth, tongues moving against the other as Xavier steadily strokes a slow path into you.
Both your men settling whole and so incredibly full within your body, you sigh in shuddered stimulation when they navigate a rhythm in between your bodies, never leaving you empty for even a moment’s reprieve. A stretch so good, it stirs satisfaction deep into your stomach. The desire for them to leave you drenched up to your womb as you voice it on incoherent whispers, head rolling back onto Xavier’s shoulder.
Their hands; gripping about the shell of your hips, down upon the flare of your thighs. Across the pinching stimulation of your breasts, your throat. Xavier’s fingers brushing to feel the desperate thrumming of your carotid beneath his hold.
Sweeping an index across your damp lip, end to end, before he slips a finger into your mouth, toying at the pink of your tongue as it darts out for a taste.
The fever of your desire streaks higher, passion so incinerating, it only takes Zayne a thumbing caress across your clit before you are convulsing, violent about the two of them in a loud, sobbing cry. Wetness slicking down your thighs despite the way they plug you, their pacing climbing faster with each swift second of inundating pleasure your clenching walls force upon them, chasing a high they seek to release into your body alone.
And when they come with bated breaths and strangled groans, your combined essence overflows from in between your legs, staining the sheets wide and dark beneath.
It is only several breathless moments later that you are able to move, body wasted and draped upon your chosen seat — Zayne does not look as if he minds much, smoothing a kiss onto the sweat-slick stretch of your breastbone. “Happy anniversary, my reckless Hunter.” And then in slower, softer words. “I love you.”
You kiss your response against his mouth; a happy, languorous sound leaving your throat. Curving an arm tighter about Xavier nuzzled into the side of your waist, your gentle beast having settled into a short slumber, after having murmured of needing your warmth close by.
The doors to their bedroom slide open just then, to admit Sylus, carrying what looks to be an expensive bottle of wine and a set of glasses, nestled onto a salver perched across his arm. Rafayel, following close on heel, with a large tray on hand; the pleasant scent that wafts from the steam laced spice off the fresh spread of food, triggers your bout of hunger.
“Reckless brutes,” Sylus comments, an amused brow he raises upon witnessing the utter disarray of your wrecked states. A smile that skews only wider with the distasteful knit to Zayne’s brow.
As if he was one to speak, you would’ve snorted in defence, if you weren’t so drained.
Xavier, too, stirs beside you at the commotion just as the last two men of your heart move to join you upon the vast bed. “Get up and eat.” Sylus instructs, rapping his fist against Xavier’s prone form.
“You alright?” Rafayel questions, the moment he is seated at your side, reaching to entwine his fingers in between yours, a hoarse sound of approval you respond with, at his pleasant touch.
In between Zayne and Rafayel, they guide your body into an upright position.
Your head coasts sideways and onto Rafayel’s shoulder, in languid stupor, as he brings a spoon of hot broth to your lips. “Start with this, you’ll feel better once warmed from the inside.”
“Warm her, they did already… from the ‘inside’ that is,” Sylus’ licentious whisper reaches your ears from the side, setting your face to an incandescent glow at the recollection.
“Crude.” Rafayel reproaches — you do not, however, miss the scandalised red that seeps across his ears at his provocations.
You join in quiet laughter at Sylus’ words, burying your face deeper against Rafayel’s skin. A cosy arm he immediately brings about your shoulders to hold you close, as he continues to satiate your other, necessary hunger.
His scent soothes and settles deep into your lungs, gaze trekking, absent, to the stretch of skin exposed beneath his unbuttoned shirt, from where you smell his perfume strongest. A sudden, stray thought of wanting to lap a path up against him, assaults your mind, sore body responding in feeble protest.
A shadow falls upon you; Sylus’ thumb brushing, delicate, at the corner of your lips. “Eat well for now. Replenish your strength.” A kiss he nips onto your ear, you shiver at the muted stimulation.
“Sylus—”
“You’ll have your fill of us, as much as your heart desires, after.” He promises in decadent whispers.
Your men, proving true to his words; the rest of your long night spent in seeking love against each other’s skins and within their embrace.
Until they engrave proof of their existence — devotion and desire — scattered like scarlet jewels along the canvas of your body.
End Notes: This is my first foray into writing this kind of relationship for my favorite media and I enjoyed each excruciating second of agonizing over positions and 🍆s. Although I adore a hot poly romance just as much as the next person (cough Him&Him&Him), it certainly isn’t something I’ll personally be trying again any time soon LOL.
Likes, reblogs and comments are very much appreciated, if you are so inclined, and never fail to put a smile on my face.
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#sylus x reader#rafayel x reader#zayne x reader#xavier x reader#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace smut#lads sylus#lads smut#love and deepspace sylus#rafayel love and deepspace#zayne love and deepspace#love and deepspace xavier#sylus x you#rafayel x you#zayne x you#zayne l&ds#zayne lads#l&ds smut#lads x reader#lnds x reader#lads fanfic#love and deepspace#rafayel l&ds#rafayel x mc#lnds rafayel#love and deepspace zayne#l&ds zayne#lnds zayne#lads zayne#xavier x you
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out of curiosity, why do you like sturgeons so much?
A chance to info dump about my favorite fish…?!
I grew up in the Great Lakes area of North America, where fishing is pretty popular but everyone knows that fish populations aren’t anything like “the good old days” when people took out huge numbers of fish while messing up their spawning sites. I got pretty into fishing when I found out that I could catch bluegill in the surrounding farm ponds, and once in a while my family took me to an isolated fishing cabin for vacation, but for years I never encountered a wild fish bigger than a kilogram or two.
BUT THEN…
I found out about sturgeon! They were HUGE fish that had once lived in the rivers and lakes all around my home, and better yet, fish almost exactly like modern sturgeon had existed all the way back in the Cretaceous period alongside the dinosaurs, and they STILL EXIST TODAY!!! The fact that small numbers of these huge dinosaur fish still existed made them seem almost like a real-life lake monster/cryptid, except that we had proof of their existence!
Furthermore, there’s just nothing else like them. Sturgeon get big. Like, REALLY big. The record for the largest sturgeon was almost 11 meters/24 feet long, which is colossal for freshwater animals. They have armor plates of bone running down their sides, and at the same time they don’t have bony skeletons. They also have a crazy mouth structure, which allows them to actually pop their jaws out like a tube and suck up food. And on top of all of this, the adults are absolute tanks. I’ve seen skin nearly 8mm thick, and it’s so tough that people make leather out of it, and they occasionally lose fins or even entire gill plates and just keep on swimming! (I found out about that last one when I tried to wrestle a big female out of a river and my hand went straight into her gills. She didn’t seem that bothered by it!)
For a long time I filed sturgeon along with Alligator Gar, Giant Mekong catfish, and Yangtze paddlefish as a semi-legendary fish that may still exist, but I was never going to see except possibly in an aquarium, until I enrolled in graduate school. For those unfamiliar with grad school in the US, it typically involves both high-level classes as well as an independent research project the student designs and carries out with help from an experienced professor. When my mentor asked what kind of thing I wanted to study, I tossed out “sturgeon” as one such possibility, expecting to hear that I would probably have to limit myself to more common/accessible species.
I was blown away when she said “Actually, I think I know a guy…”
For the next several years, I got to ride along collecting wild adult sturgeon, gathering eggs, and raising the baby fish in a lab and in a hatchery. I was holding something that I had thought of as a semi-mythical lake/river monster in my own hands! I got to see a river choked with giants as big as 2 meters long, and I got to hold a 5-centimeters mottled baby whose armored scutes were still sharp and possessed the little arrowhead shape and big black pectoral fins that remind me of Mickey Mouse ears! In the video below you can even see a little heartbeat! (Don’t worry, this little guy was returned to the tank soon after to recover from his anesthesia!)
Sadly, I didn’t find anything super groundbreaking in my research, but my experience DID land me a job working in sturgeon aquaculture! If you’ve ever had caviar that wasn’t poached, it probably came from a sturgeon farm, and if you want to see a lot of big fish up close, this is a good place to do it! I probably personally handled more individual sturgeon than there are wild fish in several sturgeon species. In addition, while the wild broodstock I mentioned above might reach 2 meters and over 50kg, the sturgeon I dealt with at the farm would easily double that, and there were a LOT of them! I got to see sturgeon behavior that had never been recorded in field guides, and even a few crazy one-in-a-million mutations like the infamous “ghost” sturgeon!
I even got the opportunity to cook my own sturgeon meat (Yeah, I basically turned into the Touden siblings from Dungeon Meshi except for sturgeon instead of RPG monsters). I got pretty good at making smoked sturgeon, but the meat is also good on the grill or baked, and people have been cooking them in various ways for centuries.
My favorite part of the job was physically wrestling the big fish! Sturgeon are easier to grab than other fish with the right know-how, but a human-sized fish often has its own plans for the day and won’t always cooperate. I was pretty good at moving the adults by the time I left that job, but it was still a wild rodeo every time!
Even more exciting was how we spawned each new generation of sturgeon. In the wild, they form massive spawning runs in big rivers that in the past would be enough to tip small boats, but in a lab or farm we have to use other means. I’ll spare you the details, but I am one of a small number of people who have surgically extracted eggs from a live sturgeon and sutured them back up to swim another day.
The tldr of this essay is that sturgeon are a big, crazy-unique fish that have been around a long time, and I’ve spent a lot of my career handling and working with them. There’s just nothing like them for a fish nerd and they’re damn cool!
(Clip art not mine, I think @sturgeonposting drew or shared it!)
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To Your Love That Smells Like Crazy
Synopsis: Damian presented as an alpha, to everyone's despair. He announced he found a mate, to everyone's skepticism. You're the perfect omega, to everyone's delight.
Pairing: Yandere!Alpha!Batboys X Gn!AFAB!Omega!Reader
Tw: 18+ pwp; noncon/dubcon smut; noncon drugging; creepy batfamily members feeling attracted to Reader when they were still 15, but nothing sexual or romantic between them happens until they're 18; this chapter is mostly Damian x Reader; ABO, Reader is an omega, all the batboys are alphas; Heat symptoms; Damian and Reader are 15 at first, when the smut happens they're 18, Tim is three years older than them, Jason is five years older, Dick is 10 years older and Bruce is on his 40s; Implied future gangbang? They want to share Reader (polyamory) but right now the real action is just between Damian and Reader; Loss of virginity on both parts; Implied that Damian is also inexperienced on kissing and Reader knows a little more about that; Fingering!R receiving; Slight schoolgirl/boy/person!Reader; Reader wears lipgloss, nail polish and earrings; Omegas breasts produce milk during heat; Some breastfeeding; Breeding kink; Handcuffs; The word ‘rape’ is used twice; Lots of crying; Nipple play; Dirty talk; Slight voyeurism; Unprotected sex; Negative and selfdeprecating thoughts; Claiming ownership (biting); English isn't my first language.
Word count: 4,7k
Requested? No.
Extra notes: Planning on making one pwp chapter for each batboy, and then a last one with no smut. Also, I think I'm gonna start posting on AO3 since the tw are getting worse...
General masterlist | To Your Love That Smells Like Crazy - Series masterlist
Damian was territorial, dominant and temperamental since the family had known him. Maybe he was born like that, maybe he wasn't, they couldn't know, so, what they most hoped for was that those were just personality traits, maybe coping mechanisms, and the puppy would present as an omega or beta one day, and then maybe the hormones would make him calm down. It was a small possibility, but one could only dream, right?!
Well, those hopes were crushed when, at his fifteenth birthday, Damian woke up growling at the mix of strong alpha scents stinking his room, his territory, and started pacing inside there, not allowing anyone but the old beta Alfred to come in.
He calmed down after a couple of hours, came out of his room to eat breakfast, assessed and scented the rest of his territory (everyone's territory, really, the manor was the family’s home), and maybe humor his inner alpha by subjugating the rest of the pack. It didn't work, obviously, they were all mature alphas who went through puberty already and knew how to (mostly) manage conflict with a newly-turned alpha who still smelt like milk and was just overwhelmed with hormones.
After a full belly, it was decided he shouldn't have to go to school for the first few days (something the teenager was happy with), to learn to control his mood and impulses, visit a specialized doctor to be sure what kind of suppressants were better suited for his organism, and so he could go through his first rut in peace.
A few days later, Damian went back to school, nose itching from some not-so-pleasant alpha scents, some weak beta scents, some sugary omega scents, and a lot of milky scents coming from most students, especially unpresented puppies.
He wondered how adults live like this, if he would just get used to it, and it wouldn't bother him so much one day. One thing was to feel the smell of flowers or food, another thing was to feel people’s pheromones. But his train of thoughts were halted when he felt you.
Not even inside the classroom yet, but he could sniff you out and find you if he wanted to. Strong, yet suave, soft. Strawberries. And milk. It made his whole body shudder and tremble. Now he knew why his family occasionally asked where the delicious scent stuck to his clothes came from. Now he knew why alphas turned their heads and stared at you so much when you both were walking around. It was all you. His best friend.
Damian stared openly and unconsciously, while you made your way to him none the wiser and sat down at his side, and he almost got annoyed when, at first, you didn't seem to notice his new presentation, as if you didn't even acknowledge him as an alpha yet. But then you turned and stared at him strangely.
— Dude, why’re you staring so mu- Oh. — You blinked, finally having realized where the new musky scent was coming from. — You're lucky you smell good. My neighbor smells like feet.
When he came home, he announced he had an omega.
Obviously, that left everyone bewildered as to what he meant by that, it was impossible for during his first day back outside as an alpha, he already had a mate. But he didn't have to explain much for them to understand, the scent on his clothes was enough proof as to why he wanted you for himself.
After that, Damian invited you to hang out with him at the manor for the first time. It caused a reaction in everyone, and all of them were home, of course they were, Damian wanted to show off his future mate, and you had to meet the family, since he single-handedly decided you were going to join their pack already.
As you walked past each door on the way to Damian's room, everyone had a reaction.
The old beta and grandfather, Alfred, was very polite and nice, he smelt like tea. He smiled more freely with how sweet you were, amused by Damian's clear crush.
Next, you passed Dick by the gym, he smelt spicy, and his door was open, so he could peek better to satiate his curiosity when Damian's crush arrived, yet, he didn't expect to almost fall from his stretching position when he finally took a whiff from your sweet scent for the first time, instead of just the faint and weak thing that occasionally got stuck on Damian's clothes and hair. He managed to look mostly presentable even though he almost sprinted to the corridor to meet you. Dick was even more pleased to see you were beautiful, even in your modest school uniform. He forced himself to hold back and stay in the gym when Damian decided the interaction took long enough, and pulled you to keep walking.
Jason was next, he was in the library. His scent was thick. Woody. He coughed around his drink when he felt your scent, and Damian rolled his eyes at him. Jason’s whole body froze when he saw how soft you looked, clearly an omega. He noted that you looked older than fifteen, but Jason knew you were just a couple of months older than Damian, and you still smelled like milk. His attraction to you bothered him because he couldn't ignore your still-milky scent, and he was already imagining how you would smell like when you fully reached maturity. Your hair was shiny and looked soft, like clouds and cotton-candy. He wanted to stick his nose there and hug you. You looked the perfect company for a nap (and more). Damian quickly steered you away to keep walking.
Next was Tim, he was in his room, and he smelt like peppermint. He always kept the door closed, but during your visit, it was open wide, due to his curiosity to meet you, everyone knew that. Tim snapped his eyes away from his computer when he felt you, and stared at you wide-eyed when you appeared. You didn't even come inside, Damian didn't want to feel your scent coming off of Tim's room to haunt him every time he walked past that door for the next days. It would definitely make him want to kill his brother. Tim tried to burn your image to his brain to the smallest details. He noted the color of your nail polish, your earrings, the thing dangling from your backpack, the shine and rosiness of your lip gloss. Tim specially liked your soft-spoken voice, and it bothered him how polite, neutral and distant it was, because clearly you both didn't now each other, you were just there as Damian's friend, meeting his older brother for the first time, and just wanted to go hole up inside Damian's room as soon as possible to avoid the weird interaction.
Soon, your wishes came through, and you spent the next few hours there with Damian basically teaching you everything and doing your homework. It was a new behavior, he never did that out of instinct before, some people asking him for help would annoy him, others, like you, he would calmly help out of the hidden kindness in his heart, but he never took initiative before. You brushed it off as just new alpha behavior and just used his either gentlemanly or condescending behavior, if it meant you could gain things out of it and be lazy.
At dinner, you finally met his father. Bruce Wayne was the alpha of a pack full of alphas and a beta. His himbo and playboy persona gave you the impression that he wasn't the most dominant alpha around, but you were proven wrong when you felt his sandalwood aroma and saw his towering frame. His personality was the same you saw on the TV, though, pleasant like a TV host or just a popular guy. On the inside, he was fixated with you, ignoring your milky childish scent and your school uniform. He wanted you around the house more. God knows how much a bit more of softness could help the family’s dynamic. Maybe that was what was missing, an omega around the place. Like you. Actually, it could be you. He thought about convincing Damian to stick to living in the manor even after you were both married adults. Or you could be Bruce’s when you were of age. Wait, how old were you?
Alfred drove you and Damian to your place after everything was done, all the alphas with a heavy heart, bothered that you had to go, that you couldn't spend the night with them yet. Even if you were already theirs.
It took a lot to convince Damian to share you, but eventually, he begrudgingly agreed, they were a pack, after all, not just a family, they stick together, take care of each other and of each other's interests. Having something that wasn't just vigilantism in common would be good bonding for them, and the closer a pack could get, the better. That he knew. A pack sharing someone wasn't exactly unheard of either.
After that, Damian started inviting you to the manor more often. Almost every week you were there. Your parents started saying that Damian probably was interested in you, but you laughed it off, never thinking an alpha like him would be interested in an omega like you.
The family made the best of that time to get you used to them, to their dynamic, and to make you feel at home, safe, trustful. They also wanted your scent to get stuck everywhere. To get to know you. To learn everything about you. To make plans.
When Damian's 18 birthday came, you were already legally an adult too, and they invited you over, saying it was a birthday party. When you got there, the party consisted in only you and the family.
The conversation was nice.
They put drugs on your piece of cake that simulated an out of cycle heat.
It started with fatigue.
Then fever.
Your eyes got blurred.
You thought you were getting sick, and just planned on taking cold medicine when you got home.
The alphas were slowly coming closer and circling you, unnoticed.
You felt weird in your intimate parts, maybe you needed to pee.
You stood up, but your knees were weak, and you almost fell, if it wasn't for Dick, who caught you mid-air.
All scents became clearer when your eyes locked. You wondered what the look on his face meant, confused.
You felt their excitement, and arousal. And you felt something poking your thigh.
You felt your own underwear getting wet.
You asked them to take you home, but they denied. That made you feel antsy, so you tried searching for your phone to call your parents to pick you up, but you couldn't find it. It got especially hard when Damian picked you up and started walking up the stairs with you.
— It's okay, omega. You're okay with us. I’m going to take care of you… — Your hands trembled when he purred the word ‘omega’, mumbled those words, and nuzzled the side of your head with his nose, taking a deep breath from your sweet strawberry scent, and faint sex smell, due to the wetness between your thighs. No longer any hint of milk anymore, since you already reached maturity just a couple of months before him, and now he also didn't smell like puppy anymore.
— N-No… D-Dami… W-Where are you taking me? What a-are you gonna do? … I wanna go home… I’m not feeling good… — You whimpered and tried to weakly move out of his hold, it didn't work.
— You are home, beloved. And I’m going to help you feel better… With my knot. — Your eyes widened. — I will fuck you real good and fill you with my semen. I know it is your first time, it is mine too. But do not worry, your heat will make it painless and you will be satisfied with me. — You whimpered higher, your omega was preening, crying for a knot, your pussy squeezing hard, but your mind knew it was wrong. Clearly something was wrong. Why was no one helping? Couldn't they see you were caught by surprise with your heat and were saying no to him? Why were they looking at you like that? A cough coming from somewhere seemed to snap Damian out of it, like he remembered something. — Ah, right. And then, you will receive father’s, and my siblings' knots. I will go first since it’s my birthday and I claimed you first. — Damian blushed, despite his smug tone.
You cried for help, at first, it came out weak, as your omega didn't want to make something the alphas would disapprove of, but the closer you got to the room they designated for the moment, the reality of what was coming was overtaking your instincts. Especially after your belly started to hurt at being empty of seed.
The alphas only shushed you, and you helplessly watched as Tim handcuffed one of your hands to the bedpost as soon as Damian laid you down on the nest they made for you, and Dick and Jason each started taking your sneakers off. Bruce was standing a few feet away from the bed, Alfred at his side. The oldest alpha’s eyes were glued to your laid down figure, hungry and serious. Darker than you had ever seen. You've never been more scared of him before. He occasionally commented something to Alfred, that you vaguely registered as instructions, that also started being given to his children.
You weakly tugged at the handcuff and tried to sit up at the same time, but Damian pushed himself between your legs, and held you down by the waist. Dick and Jason held your legs open to accommodate him better, and your overwhelmed brain barely noticed their hands also rubbing your ankles and thighs. You've never felt more aroused and more scared your whole life.
Alfred exited the room to start doing Bruce's orders, and he kept watching. Tim, who had disappeared out of your line of sight for a second, came back holding a long, shiny and glinting pair of scissors. You tugged harder at the restraints and tried to push your body up to get away, thinking he was going to hurt you, but he just purred at you to calm you down, unfortunately, it worked, and your pussy tightened when Damian hissed at feeling your center pressing against his hard cock, when you pushed your hips up and against his. You could feel him poking your underthigh, only the clothes separating you.
— It's okay, omega, I’m just cutting off your clothes, it's gonna be easier to strip you that way. — Tim said soothingly, while purring and almost cooing at you. Your eyes widened when he said that, and actually started cutting your shirt open, until Dick was able to pull the ruined fabric off from under you.
All three alphas started purring at seeing your braless torso, chest already swelling with milk and nipples darkened. Omegas body produced milk when they had a puppy to feed, or during heats, and ruts, when an alpha was in a rut, and the omega was helping them, because the body understood it was a rough period, where a lot of energy was spent and not much nutrition came, since both were too busy procreating and too weak to go searching for food, so the milk was a lot helpful in those moments. There were even historical moments where that skill was useful in other contests, when the economy got so bad that most packs were starving, and the omegas of the pack helped them survive with milk.
Damian bit his lips and brought his right hand up to your left breast, squeezing it softly. Everyone was entranced, watching a single drop of milk come out, the breast not full yet. You arched your back, it felt good, so good that for a moment you forgot why you wanted to get away. Damian also didn't help your train of thought when his thumb started rubbing your stiff nipple, sending ripples of pleasure through your body and forcing your eyes closed. You forced yourself not to make a sound.
You snapped out of it when you felt Tim cutting your pants and underwear off. Your eyes widened at the feeling of being exposed and the almost cold air that made your hair stand. Your legs trembled and you felt Dick and Jason's hands working, uncoordinated pads of fingers dancing across the inside of your thighs.
Your arousal’s scent freely infastated the room now, and half of them growled, in exception of Bruce and Tim, who were keeping themselves more calm and collected.
— It's time to go now, let Damian and (Y/N) have their moment. — Bruce announced and you watched as Damian smirked, then you hid your face, sobbing against the pillow. He cooed at you while his other hand went down between your legs and started rubbing slow circles while pressing against your clit.
Dick sighed.
— Take care of them, Dami. Have fun and enjoy. — Dick patted Damian's shoulder, but you weren't sure the alpha above even noticed you, too busy gazing at you and your body, enjoying how warm and wet you were.
— Yeah, remember to do what we taught you, baby bird. — Damian only hummed at Jason's comment, and leaned down, pressing his chest to yours. He brought his mouth to the juncture of your neck and shoulder, and started leaving a trail of kisses up your neck, and under your jaw.
It was your first time feeling someone doing this, when you read fanfics and books, you never thought this could feel good like the writing always described, but it actually did, and you hated that you liked it, crying harder against the pillow and hoping his lips weren't moving closer to your face because he wanted to kiss you. You felt his nose sniffing your scent gland.
Tim hummed.
— Be careful with them, and don't take too long, everyone wants their turn. — Tim warned softly and was the last to exit the room, closing the door, but not locking it.
Damian’s warm breath huffed against your neck.
— Finally alone… — Damian whispered with a hoarse voice that made your hair stand. You whimpered and squeezed your eyes harder.
— Please, let me go… You don't have to do this, I won't tell anyone- — Your sentence was cut short when one of Damian's long and thick fingers invaded your entrance delicately. Your mouth opened on a silent scream, and the alpha watched you with lust in his eyes.
— Beloved… Omega… You will come to like this, I promise you that… — He sucked a faint hickey on your scent gland. His right hand started exploring the rest of your body, fumbling and squeezing the softer parts he found out he liked the most. You couldn't control your panting and small moans when his finger curled upwards inside you, touching your sweet spot.
— D-Dam-... A-Alpha… — You arched your back when he started fingering you faster, your sensitive walls milking a single finger, crying for a thick knot, thirsty for his seed, your womb empty of puppies.
— See… — He kissed your cheek. — We barely started, and yet… — Another kiss, closer to your mouth. — You're already dripping and earning for my knot… — Your lips met, it didn't seem like he had much experience, maybe it was his first kiss? Either way, you knew a little more about what you were doing, and he quickly learned. In just a few minutes, he was dominating your mouth. The younger alpha gave a slow bite to your lips when a second finger joined the first in fucking you, wet noises eccoing around the room.
You gained some clearance after a few moments, when he took his fingers off. You whined, not knowing if it was to plead him not to rape you, or because you wanted his cock stuffing you as soon as possible. You tried to force your head away from his, and he relented, pausing the kiss, but only to start taking his own clothes off. If your face wasn't already hot from the fever and arousal, you knew it would be now, feeling shy with everything new that was happening and his naked body, and surprised that you never once noticed his muscles before.
While afraid, you peeked down and saw his hard and bobbing dick, it was thick and above average, but not too much. Not too much for someone who wasn't a virgin like you were, that is.
You tried to sit up, to get away from him in a bolt of strength you didn't have until now, fighting your omega with as much as you could. But it proved to be no help, as it punished you by making your belly tug and hurt twice more. Your torso fell down on the bed again, powerless by pain, numbness, and the restraint around your wrist.
Damian only cooed, still kneeling above you and between your legs. You cried. You didn't feel his calloused hands holding and caressing your hips, but you felt the blunt wet tip against your entrance. You were ruined.
Your parents would hate you. They would say it was your fault for ignoring their warnings and shoving yourself inside a home full of alphas with no omega. They would kick you out of the pack. And if the Wayne's did good on their word of raping you one after the other, you would probably get pregnant, as you weren't on birth control. That is, if they didn't kill you or kept you hostage in their basement. And even if your pack wanted to, they wouldn't be able to do anything to get justice for you, as the Wayne's were much more influential and rich. You were only going to the same school as Damian because your parents worked as teachers there, for god's sake. You were doomed. And if they decided to mark you…
You cried harder, ashamed of being so aroused now and so dumb all along. For the first time, you hated being an omega.
But all those self-deprecating thoughts were muffled when he finally invaded you. It was slow, gentle, testing how things felt. Damian heaved a breath and buried his face on your neck, breathing your scent deep. It felt amazing, for the both of you. You were so deep in your heat that of course it wasn't going to hurt at all, silly you. Those alphas were right, they are always right. They can take care of you.
— … More… Please, I want more… — You moaned and tried moving your hips against his, forcing his cock to push against your walls faster. Damian's head snapped up, looking at you with interest and lust. You were already cockdrunk, as he was pussydrunk, and he wasn't even halfway inside yet.
He bottomed out with more hurry, after pulling in and out twice to test if you really weren't in pain. He moaned deep against your face before shoving his lips against yours again, while he thrusted his hips. The alpha found the perfect rhythm while pulling almost all the way in and out, in a steady dance. Your moans got louder by the second, your inner omega happy with all the attention you were receiving.
Your free hand shot up to rest on his back, nails digging his scarred skin, not knowing what to do. Damian's hips gradually grew in force, until the bed was shaking and softly hitting the wall. The sound of your hips colliding and your wetness clear as day didn't bother you, as you only started begging for the alpha. To be owned. To be knotted. To be breeded.
— See how I take care of you… — He kissed down your collarbone, murmuring against your skin. — Make you feel good… — One of his hands slid down to grip your thigh, pulling your leg up, purposefully looking for a deeper angle to ravish you. You gasped as he found it, and his thrusts got harder. You mumbled a bunch of agreements to whatever he was saying, you just wanted his knot! — You're my omega now, our omega now… — He softly bit your pouting nipple, being considerate as to not hurt the sensitive and swelling area. Your hand trembled on his back and shot up to pull his hair in an overwhelming wave of pleasure. He pulled weakly at your nipple with his teeth scraping the nerves on the area, until he let it go. — We will stuff you full of cum everyday and every hour… — His lips trailed down your ribs, but the position didn't allow him to go further down. He wanted to leave kisses on your whole body, and now he could do that, because now you weren't escaping them. He growled, resigning himself to traill his lips up through the space between your breasts. Your body trembled with the sound. — Fuck you real good… You will never have to beg, omega, we will spoil you with everything you need, everything you want… — His huge hands trailed up your body until they reached your chest. He squished them for a moment, enjoying how soft they were, and how pliant you were, looking straight into your dazed cockdrunk eyes. Imagining how your perfect pups will look like. Milk started coming out in small drops, so silent that he only noticed when it was dripping down his hand. His eyes shot down to assess the view and his knot started growing at the sight of your swelling breasts and darkened nipples, giving up milk for him, for him, so soft his fingers were digging and moulding the flesh, all while they were dancing up and down, bouncing, seducing him. You were seducing him. You were stunning, ravishing, perfect without even trying. He was happy his pack was the one tying you down to them, he wanted to kill someone just for thinking that someone else could have you like this. — … And you will give us everything we want…
He tentatively, almost hypnotized, leaned down and sucked your stiff nipple between his soft lips, sucking a small amount of milk inside, letting It rest on his tongue for a moment, savouring the taste, before swallowing.
You were sensitive, with a dull ache, but his suckling helped with the pain and sent waves of flickering pleasure against your body. You could feel him forcing his knot with each thrust to fit inside you as it gradually grew, and gasped, whimpering pleas for more. Begging him to keep going and stuff you full. You were both getting close to orgasm. Damian shut his eyes hard, overstimulated with the growing pleasure. He let go of your breast when he started feeling his canines getting more protruded, itching to bite your neck and claim you, his eyes also getting brighter, his inner alpha waiting to take ownership over you. Strip you off the life you had before. Forcing you to subjugate, until the smallest cells in your body knew who you belonged to.
He didn't hold himself, of course, and your first mark soon made home above your collarbone, your souls locking together and the intimacy going to an extraordinary level when you reached the peak of pleasure in tandem, while his knot swelled and made you stuck together, stopping any drop of cum from going to waste.
Every single drop was forced to stay inside of you, and Damian lifted your almost limp head, you both drunk, still coming down from the waves of pleasure, and forced your lips against his neck, his scent gland, and you, whose omega and heat had taken over since the moment his cock invaded you, didn't hesitate to mark him back, locking the bond completely.
— Good omega, good omega…
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