#its more similar to my first fic i wrote and that one is boring as fuck

[autismcodedz]

ive been cooking up a new landoscar fic but ngl guys.. i dont like it

its like the aftermath of silvo and hurt/comfort n that but tbh its just boring ill get it out before the race anyways

[morgueqt]

—on top of the dresser, i wanna undress her.

Genshin Impact Rosaria x GN!Reader.

Tags ; Explicit Sexual Content. Face-Sitting. Hair-Pulling. Light Dom/Sub. Cunnilingus. Top!Rosaria. Power Bottom!Reader. Degradation. Dirty Talk.

AN ; first fic i’m getting around to posting here and it’s the 1k essay i wrote about eating this woman out… whoops. You can find more of my fics on my AO3 under the same username! Obviously this is smut, 18+, read at your own risk. ⚠️

“Are you ready to confess?”

Her voice is like wine as she speaks, smooth and intoxicating, lulling you out of the recesses of your mind. It’s eerily similar to a predator luring out its prey, feigning innocence before it sinks its teeth into supple flesh. You suppose that’s more accurate than not, especially when it comes to Rosaria, but you both already know that she doesn’t need to catch you. No, you, her prey, come willingly. Again and again.

She’s straddling your head, entirely nude save for white gloves and the metallic claws she loves to clink together when she’s bored. Despite her title of “Sister”, Rosaria looks like sin incarnate. You can see the arousal smeared between her thighs, the folds of her cunt glistening in the low lamplight. You can’t deny that it makes you a little smug, being able to have such an effect on her, someone so usually nonchalant and detached.

Nevertheless, you aren’t here to gloat or gawk. Rosaria had spoken to you, and you knew better than to keep her waiting. You may be special to her in a way no one else is, enough to warrant these special “confessions”, but even you aren’t spared her impatience.

“Yes.” It leaves your lungs in a rush of air, your hands seeking out her narrow hips and clinging to them like a lifeline. Despite the belatedness of your response, Rosaria seems satisfied.

“Then get to it,” she muses, hovering just above your face.

You don’t need any further invitation, you urge her down and she lowers herself on you. Rosaria has never been the shy type so she has no shame in fully sitting, threatening to smother you in her cunt. Not that you mind, Archons no. You squeeze her waist to let her know you’re comfortable, and then get to work.

Your tongue glides over her soaked folds like a man starved, alternating between kitten licks at her clit and full on lapping at her like the dog Rosaria would say you are. You can’t help yourself, the taste of her is addictive. She moans somewhere above you, never that loud, but always sure to express her enjoyment. She moves her hips in little thrusts against your tongue, essentially riding it.

“Dirty little sinner,” Rosaria rasps, tangling her hand in your hair. Her metal claws scrape harshly at your scalp and make it sting, but you’re too focused on devouring her to care. “If only you did this as much as you ran your mouth.”

Your only reply is a pathetic whine that gets muffled by her pussy, your jaw aching as you open it wider and latch onto her, sucking. Rosaria’s hips jolt involuntarily and she lets out a drawn out groan, her thighs squeezing around your head as she presses herself down on your face, blindly chasing the sensation. Like this, you really can’t breathe, but why would you need to? All you need to do is pleasure her, make her feel good. It’s what you were made for, all you were good for.

“Fuck, that’s it,” Rosaria praises, now rutting against you. “Eat up like the whore you are. What would the other Sisters think? Knowing that one of their most devoted attendees is just a slut that loves to sin. No amount of hymns or prayers will ever cleanse you of that.”

You diligently lick up the slick that drips from her slit, delving your tongue inside in search of more. You could care less about her degrading words, it’s not as though she’s wrong. You aren’t devout or even particularly religious, though you’re certainly good at feigning interest. The only reason you even frequent the church is for her. To see her, to speak to her, anything.

It had started out innocently enough, just you dropping off some cecilias on behalf of a commission from Barbara, but she hadn’t been there. Instead you’d been greeted by a tall, brooding woman with pale, yellow eyes and an unwavering scowl. Rosaria had been intimidating to say the least, but something about her captivated you. There were no masks or lies with her, she was honest to the point of nearly being insensitive. She spoke her mind without shame or care, and she did what she pleased.

Ironically, it would seem that what Rosaria enjoyed doing the most was you.

She’s getting close now, you can tell. Her thighs clench and unclench around your head, her control over her muscles beginning to waver as she gives herself over to the pleasure. You can’t see her, but her head has fallen back and her eyes have closed, her lips parted as low sounds escape her. Your own arousal pulses with neglect as you hear Rosaria moan out your name.

As she begins to buck against you, you focus once more on shoving your tongue inside her sopping cunt, your nose occasionally bumping her swollen clit as she moves. Rosaria gasps out, breathless as she tightens her grip on your hair to the point of pain, but you don’t care. You eat out her pussy like it’ll be your last meal, delighted by the way you can feel it twitch against your lips, getting wetter as her orgasm approaches.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck… Don’t you waste a drop,” Rosaria pants from above. Her free hand is fisting the sheets and if you aren’t mistaken, you think you can hear them tear as a result of her claws.

You lap at her until your jaw grows sore and then, finally, she cums. Watching Rosaria reach her peak will forever be a sight you’ll never tire of, you’re sure it’s the closest you’ll ever get to Celestia while alive. Her juices coat your face as she chants your name like it’s the only prayer worth reciting, and you can’t help but muse over the fact that it’s the most energy you’ve ever seen her exude for something like that.

You do your best to help Rosaria ride out her high, licking up her fluids dutifully and doing your damndest to prolong her pleasure. After what seems like forever, she lifts herself from your face, finally too sensitive to stand the stimulation. Her thighs are trembling with the effort of holding herself up, and you can see a faint flush on her face. Aside from that and the sheen of sweat on her skin, Rosaria appears unfairly composed otherwise.

“Did I do good?” You ask her, a coy smile on your lips as you peer up at her. Rosaria responds with a scoff, but you glimpse the smile she wears as she shifts off of you and leans down for a kiss instead. She’s unbothered by the taste of herself, exploring your mouth and sucking at your tongue with a reverence you’d never known her to have.

“I suppose it was satisfactory,” she hums upon pulling back, chuckling quietly.

“Only satisfactory?” You pout, but she’s quick to quell your impending brattiness. She taps a clawed finger against your cheek, and the dim lighting almost makes it seem like her eyes are glowing.

“Don’t start. We aren’t done yet,” Rosaria murmurs. Her gaze is downcast, fixated now on your forgotten arousal. You can’t help but shiver, and you know your reaction makes her smug, moving her way down until she’s kneeling between your legs.

“Let’s see what else that mouth of yours can do, Sinner.���

[wisteria-lodge]

badger-flavored bird primary + bird secondary

Hi there. I’m fairly sure I’m a Bird Snake, but I’ve never submitted an “official” typing request, and I was wondering if you could SortMe? I structured this off the ask the other day that asked what a SortMe submission should look like.

When I was a kid I was quiet, kept to myself whilst wanting to join in groups of other kids playing. I liked solitary activities, and I could spend hours by myself doing something I liked, to the exclusion of the world around me. I read constantly, fiction and non-fiction. I was reading and writing from 3. Initially I wrote stories about concepts I thought were cool - one was a short story about a girl who sleepwalks out of her room at night and is lured into a machine by a Shadow Man that steals her shadow. I think I was about five when I wrote that lol. Then, because I wanted my parent’s approval, a performance aspect snaked in and I started quite early writing things designed to make the adults around me ooh and aah about how precocious it was. I pushed past my anxiety to perform (there was an aspect of the attention I got from adults there.) 

To preserve my own creative outlet, I secretly wrote fic for the different media I was entranced by at the time. I knew it wasn’t the kind of thing the adults would approve of. I learned to hide things quite young. 

Okay. I’m definitely seeing signs of an external focus that makes me think Badger or Bird primary (“wanting to join in groups of other kids playing” and “wanted my parent’s approval”) Like yes, those are universal human feelings, but you’re choosing to highlight them. 

I’m also definitely thinking either Bird or Snake secondary. There’s the “you” and then there’s the “you” you perform to solve a problem or get something. And you’re… fine with it. A Lion or a Badger would be chafing more. 

One of my absolute favourite pastimes was to go on to these old breed standard websites and read every profile A-Z of each breed within a domestic species, cat, dog, horse, etc, and pick out the ones I would have one day. I had a similar list-like enjoyment of dinosaurs, sharks, planets, rivers.

Well, it looks like you - as well as every other neurodivergent apparently - either has or models a Bird secondary. And I’m leaning towards you’re just a Bird secondary. The collector instinct, the love of lists… Bird secondary. 

There was something very pleasing about designing your own life. I thought if I got to Heaven, I would ask God to design my own world, so I might as well start planning before I died, lol. 

This, this right here might be the most Bird primary thing I have ever read. 

I was not athletic at all, but I had a daring streak. Not out of wanting to act out but for the pure adventure of it, I used to arrange small rebellions or capers (I tended to have a Best Friend or else usually just preferred one buddy to do things with). Once I innocuously invited myself over to my friend’s house out of nursery, smoothly eliding the facts so that her parents didn’t doubt I had my parent’s permission. They double-checked with my parents when I got there and my disgruntled parents arrived at dinner time, haha. 

You’re explaining to me all the planning that went into your first mini-heist, and also the things you overlooked that made it fail. And there definitely seems to be quite a bit of planning, or “arranging” going on. Bird.

I remember the motivation was wanting to eat a certain type of green pasta that I knew my friend’s mother made that I didn’t eat at home. 

Honestly, the way that it was so pre-meditated makes me think Bird secondary more than snake secondary. 

I loved dressing up and costume. 

Not conclusive on its own, but Actor Bird secondaries almost always have a real thing for costumes. 

I have an ear for accents, huge tracts of dialogue from movies. I could do this thing where I’d watch a movie I liked intently, then when I was bored I’d access that movie in my mind and watch that inside my head. I had to learn to stop doing things like that, because watching the mental movies meant I would kind of zone out totally for hours (cos the movie was on! everyone shut up I’m watching my movies) and other kids found it weird. Learning What Other Kids Found Weird was a rough ride. I tried hard to learn the rules, although I was constantly frustrated by how one rule would contradict another and how shallow or hypocritical they were. 

Tell me about it. I did the movie thing too, although in my case it tended to be more radio plays from the 40s. Still use it to get myself to sleep sometimes. But all that really tells me is that you’re neurodivergent, which we knew. 

Discovering Pirates of the Caribbean at ten-ish changed my absolute entire existence completely and totally. That - THAT - is what I wanted to be. I loved POTC so much I wrote pages and pages of self-indulgent fanfic, before I discovered the existence of fic on deviantart (in search of yet more of POTC beyond my well-worn DVD set).

Seriously, are you me? What WAS it about that movie. It can’t have been all the Lion primary stuff, because I really don’t think you’re a Lion primary. 

I love to cook. Say, I ordered the shopping and the chicken arrives, but it’s skin-on bone-in thighs, not the fillets I ordered. Immediately I pull up a database of skin-on bone-in thighs in my head, and I see if the ingredients I have can be made into a dish. No? OK, what’s the expiry on the ingredients I have. What can I make today that will satisfy the household, whilst using up the stuff I bought that will spoil soon? Curry? Soup? Ah, tacos! I can freeze the chicken (which goes into the mental database as something I have stocked for when I do want skin-on bone-in chicken), and use the other ingredients to make taco filling, and finally use up those tacos in the cupboard that have been sat there for an age. Ahh. A win-win, no losses. My favourite type of win.   

Bird, bird, bird, bird. Rapid-fire Bird secondary.

This may sound irrelevant, but this is why I hate stuff like maths. In maths problems, you can’t use the numbers you have to hand. You have to find new numbers. OK, where? Well, you have to use the pre-existing methods to find the numbers you need. OK, but what if I don’t know the pre-existing methods? Or, what if I know one, but it’s not complete? Can’t I use what I know from working out half the problem to put together the pieces for the rest? NOPE, and you also fail the WHOLE question, because if you don’t use pre-existing method 9.0 AB345 then you show you haven’t understood the question and you FAIL. At this point I tear up my paper into shreds and eat them like a hamster. Then I go into English and study stuff that makes sense, like the equal weight of context and content, because only a sociopath believes in rigid, unequivocal methods. 

I’m a humanities teacher, not a math teacher, so I’m going to do my best to understand and re-phrase your problem. I think you’re bothered by the fact that you’re being forced to use a specific method, instead of coming at it sideways in the way it makes sense for you (because of course you’re right, there are so many ways to solve any math problem) you have to follow a very rigid series of steps. (Half of which seems unnecessary because your brain just does that.) All that tells me is that you weren’t taught math in the right way. 

This love of English and interest in the “equal weight of context and content” does speak to kind of a love of social engineering, that absolutely seems to come out in the way you deal with people.

When I’m making a difficult decision, first I consult my ethics. What is the most correct principle that my belief system tells me fits this case? Like a lawyer choosing the exact precedent for their case, this isn’t always a straightforward decision. I have to sift through competing belief systems in order to align with the right one - perhaps in order, it would go; religion> basic moral compass> rules I have written for myself. 

You wrote a flow chart. You’re a Bird primary. 

Usually, the correct principle is one that melds with my sense of self-preservation, my morality, the objective truth (or…subjective in my case, as I’ve decided my religion is the baseline of morality, but as that is as deep as my lifeblood I don’t tamper with that.) I would also consult internal systems to make sure I am landing on a decision that takes myself into account, so I can carry out the principle without breaking my back. 

That’s good to hear, especially because your built System seems pretty Badger-flavored (focus on community and community beliefs) and as we know, leaving yourself out of your assessment of the situation is absolutely a Badger primary tendency. 

Once I’ve done this, my mind is pretty set, and execution is the stuff I have to chew through next. I sometimes have red flags for certain decisions I make depending on the topic - this can be a person, for example I trust X with nearly everything, but I know not to trust them when making a decision on Y. These notes that I’ve made are very sound and I nearly always lose if I go against them - usually when I’m in a weaker mental or emotional state and my systems are blurry and grey-er. 

Bird primaries are still very much people, and this ^ is a good example of the way they DON’T follow their own System all the time. But they still want to, and following the system makes them feel strong and safe, and that’s what makes them Bird primaries. 

This is probably why I’m bad at giving specific examples for things - or job interviews! My reasoning is so subjective to myself I feel dishonourable to use my decision-making process as a standard for a situation. My reasoning and ethics are tailored to a set of situations, and those situations in the set may not resemble each other at all. I am the constant. So….maybe don’t rely on what I did off one data point? 

It’s unethical to give an example, because that’s only one (inherently flawed) data point, and the only correct thing would be to give me ALL the data points. 

I kinda think that *only* a Double Bird could have written that? Am I wrong? 

In my favorite fantasy, I am a survivor in a commune/closed community/fiefdom situation in a post-apocalyptic/high-stakes scenario that survives on my intellect, charm and ability to adapt to my situation. Within the commune is a peaceful community well protected by the walls, and I am a soldier/town librarian that keeps the people safe whilst cultivating a beautiful space to live inside the commune and protecting the innocent who come to our door, often making tough decisions where other people fail. The horrors of the world wax and wane outside the walls - we are making our own place out of beauty and love for humanity, and we stay strong. The travels and missions and relationships I have outside of the commune keep me grounded in reality and add a spark of adventure to my life.   

The fantasy is to have a closed system that you take care of (VERY Badger-flavored Bird) and you take care of it by making the tough, correct calls - which you so by using your skills, your social engineering, and your ability to pivot. (Very Rapid-fire bird.) 

Seriously, if you don’t watch Star Trek TNG, watch TNG. You’d really vibe with Picard. 

When I saw about what character do you really identify with… Man, this is gonna sound like such an ego trip, but - Gandalf, from the Lord of the Rings. Gandalf is a merry wizard, who travels Middle Earth making friendships with people he’s not supposed to be friends with and making trouble. He can be awkward, cryptic, naive, belligerent, put his foot in it, storm off and have a temper. He can also be wise, generous, deeply human, see everybody on the same level and lead his fellow creatures out of very dark places. He isn’t forgiven easily for his mistakes - the stakes are high, and when he slips up (like in the mines, like when he trusts Saruman, when he is unable to prevent Faramir from riding to battle…) there are consequences that hurt him. He also isn’t afraid to lie or garnish the truth to get what he needs - but his desires are rarely purely for his own benefit.

Okay. Gandalf is *very* powerful, and he’s very capable, and knowledgable. He’s a Bird secondary fantasy. Communities value and love him, but he’s not part of a community himself (this was also the case with the apocalyptic fiefdom scenario.) So the fantasy is not the community, the fantasy is protecting the community. Which would make me double down on Badger-flavored-Bird rather than actual Badger. If the Bird primary hadn’t already been like, really really obvious. 

What makes me feel powerful? Being able to, out of pure cunning, publicly present the unarguable facts with the sheer power of moral force, and win - that’s the stuff. And I don’t just mean public speaking, or sitting at the table and making the final, right decision. I mean wearing a pretty dress and knowing you are having exactly the effect you desired to have. It’s being seen, and then being celebrated, whilst you are in control.

You’re low-key using Snake secondary language (”cunning”) but the fantasy here is so Bird. ‘I want to have SO much information, and judge the space I’m going into so well, that I can go in and have *exactly* the effect I want… and KNOW I’m having the effect I want, in the moment.

[orchideous-nox]

18, 25, 27, 28, 36, 38, 49, 55, 68, 72, 74 and 79 for the fan fiction writing asks < 3

Ooooh boy okay this is gonna be a long one!

18 - Do you enjoy research? Which fic of yours required the most research?

I think it depends on the topic, I enjoyed research for the Wolfstar cowboy fic like looking at difference places in the States to find a setting and getting to know American equestrian terms as a Brit. It was very different for the pirate Wolfstar fic though because that was a lot of research about ships at the time and names for different sails and the layout and jobs on a ship and laws at the rough time its set.

25 - What’s your favorite part of the writing process (worldbuilding, brainstorming/outlining, writing, editing, etc)?

Right away, definitely not editing. Hate it with a burning passion. I love writing but I can find it a bit stressful at times but I love coming up with the initial concept. I'm not much of a planner though so anything more than a paragraph gets boring for me.

27 - What area of writing do you feel strongest in?

So fun fact, I'm terrible as assessing my own strengths. Editing is not my strong point though I can tell you that, I notoriously have one typo left in every fic/chapter somehow when I post it. Writing description can be a bit boring but I love writing dialogue. I will sometimes write just the dialogue like a script and then hate myself because I have to go fill in the descriptive bits between it which feels like a chore.

28 - What area of writing do you want to improve in?

I'd love to improve at varying my writing style, I don't know how it comes across to the readers but I sometimes feel I write with a very similar style across all of my fics. I experimented a bit with gothic for one fic and it was relatively well received so I'd love to be able to expand a bit and play about more with genre and style.

36 - What fic are you proudest of?

This is a tough question, I'm going to pick two for the sake of my own sanity. First is think i need someone older because it was my first multi-part fic and it has done better than I could have dreamed of considering I thought of the idea when I was falling asleep after reading Wolfstar smut until 2am. The other is it's never just coffee because I really struggled with parts of writing it but I was so proud after it was done. It was entirely an indulgence in my love for Rosekiller and the comments I got on it were so wonderful!

38 - What is your most self-indulgent posted story?

I'd have to say looking at you got me thinking christmas because I just wanted to write about Remus dressed as Santa (the birth of Moony Claus, who I'm sure will return later in 2024) fucking Sirius and I had so much fun writing it.

49 - What fic of yours would you say is the best introduction to you as a writer?

Right off the bat, I have to say think i need someone older because it just feels like the fic I always go back to in my head trying to find whatever magic I managed to put in there. I had so much fun writing Wolfstar as cowboys and diving deeper into the characters. I also want to say once the thrill expired though because it was the first one-shot that I wrote where I had a genuine investment in trying to convey emotions inspired by a song, which has just expanded for me as a concept and is now how most of my fics come about.

55 - Have you noticed any patterns in your fics? Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?

This is a really fucking good question. I seem to be a sucker for writing some hurt/comfort second chances but I can't particularly think of any words or expressions I use a lot but if anyone does know any and fancies making me regrettably self-aware then do let me know. As for settings, I love to keep it as vague as possible in terms of city or region (except its usually England) unless the setting is important like with the band au, cowboy au and pirate au where setting mattered. I would say because I write a lot of smut a common setting is "bed" but that's just not even true, I've made these idiots fuck in bathrooms, against walls, trucks, on sofas, in a barn.

68 - Are there any fics that influenced you to write the way you do?

So I've mentioned in a post waaaay back but my idea to write a cowboy Woflstar fic came after reading a few cowboy wolfstar fics but primarily Boot Scootin' Baby by cancerravenclaw. Other than this, I try and keep the way I write as authentic to me as possible and avoid fics too similar to my concepts so like I've never read another band au (the closest I've come is The Cadence of Part-Time Poets like the last chunk) and I've never read a pirate au to my knowledge. There are writers who inspire me though, I love greenvlvetcouch, damagecontrol and the absolute loml who asked this massive list of questions futurequibblerjournalist/heartnipnops/Alex who is a bit of a saint when it comes to me and my writing. We bounce ideas off each other and I send him bits of my fics to test if they're shit and apparently they never are so idk if I should trust his judgement. He's also going to be like "Katie urgh wtf" for saying he inspires me but it's true < 3

72 - What’s your favorite writing compliment you’ve gotten?

Because I'm mean, I love when people cry. At my fics, not in general....usually. I have a folder of screenshots on my phone of my favourite comments for a little ego boost (it's a lot of Alex crying and typing essays in my comments ngl). I get complimented on my smut a lot which is honestly so...idk, I don't quite have the words which is ironic really. Receiving compliments on my writing has been quite the journey for me, I used to cry whenever someone said something nice and I still struggle to accept people genuinely like my fics.

74 - Do you have a fic you wish got a bit more love?

I'm assuming this means my fics? Trying to word this with without sounding ungrateful for the love this fic got but yes absolutely it's never just coffee but that's just how writing Rosekiller seems to go. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE writing Wolfstar and the occasional Jegulus but I wish Rosekiller got the same love from the fandom. I spent about a month straight working on it's never just coffee and I'm so grateful for the love it has received but I feel it's just better written than some of the pwp one-shots I post.

79 - Do you have any writing advice you want to share?

This is going to sound so hypocritical after that answer but honestly, just write what you love to write and not just what people want you to write. Write what you want, when you want, as often as you want. Once you start writing for others you lose the passion you start out with. Fic writing is a hobby and not a job, if you stop loving it then it becomes a chore with no gratification. Even if it means you write something you think no-one will read, write it anyway if its something you love. Oh, and consider therapy.

Well, I just rewrote War and Peace so thank you for those all though provoking questions < 3

[kaepop-trash]

Well you asked, first of all and simply, Ambition was just great. It wasnt just the story it was the characters as well. Politics is boring and corrupted but you wrote it in such a way where it made me gasp and clutch my fists or something. Politics is generic but you made it personal and that’s something. Jaehyun loves the reader so much but he didnt think more than twice before be throwing her chance because why not, power is power. Makes you think about the concept of love and care. The setup was great and so were the fictious aspects. Yuta was well written as well and the reader, sometimes the most cunning, it was a great experience positioning myself into her story. I never waited for anything readable and its chapters as much as I did for Ambition and now do for notorious. Not kissing ass because idk who you are but I fell for your writing, most other fics get too boring when they try writing dramatic and some feel too tacky idk, but yours feel real and ugly, hence why I dont get bored. Sorry for the deep analysis im just so in love with your writing and I hate that you think that it’s not readable anymore. You dont owe us anything but i really hope one day you update ambition again💚🍀

Please don't apologise oh my god???😭

I'm reeling from a flu and coming on Tumblr and reading this was like the highlight of my week.

You know I love ambition so much as a concept, I believe it has so much potential that I personally could not realise. The reason I can't go back to it is because all I can see when I think about it now is how different I would write it.

That being said, I think the essence of the story is really carried on in my, now solidified, identity as a writer. I've said this before, but that story made me the writer I am today. It's an unfortunate consequences of growth and age I suppose. I'm also afraid that a lot people would not like how I would end the Ambition series.

In a way, Notorious is it's emotional next of kin and I think a few of you get that intuitively too. It has a lot of similar themes and in a way is closer to how I wish I could have written ambition. I have another political themed fic in the works that is probably tonally the opposite of what it was while still carrying a torch.

I'm still so incredibly touched by how much people love it, especially when you say that you like to see yourself in the main character. That's it's. That's all I want and it's why I started this blog. All of you deserve to read things, books or silly fics, where you can see yourself as characters with agency and intelligence.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you so very much for loving ambition and Notorious. I am the writer I am today because of you.

[arlecchno]

IM SO GLAD YOURE ALSO LOVING SUMMERS FIC IM LIKE ACTUALLY SO IN LOVE WITH IT (insert me going batshit insane) alsooo do look forward to more stupid banter in the middle of supposedly serious situations , they are the best and there are more . stan mcs little water creations tbh

bleh , honestly all my other writing works are old and i think pretty shitty at this point but i can link you to some if you really want (or i could write you a short story / drabble , i feel like thatd be less embarrassing on my part lmao , lmk if you want that) about my games though ... 1 2 3(WIP) the first two are well over a year old now , plus primarily unedited , so dont mind any possible grammar mistakes or generally terrible story flow (i swear ive gotten better since these 😰) and the third was also created last year (for a school project) , im slooowly chipping away at finishing the code haha ...

I ACTUALLY COMMENT ON MY OWN DOCS AS WELL !!! there arent much of them because .. well i havent wrote much outside of my private dms LOL

i also think it is insanely fun to comment on my own work

aand ive contacted my friends (aka my two and only true loves /p /hj) about the kinnie thing .. and one of them sent me this to fill out

youre not wrong actually haha , am i that easy to read ?

im an ambivert , i dont like seeking out social interaction irl unless its one of my close friends or im just that bored , but i do get really loud / energetic when i am comfortable (i think you can tell that by how much goddamn energy i put into these asks) but my "social battery" still drains relatively fast i cant handle people very well lmao honestly , my and cynos reasoning for making our terrible jokes align a bit , although most people (apart from my irl friends apparently ???) dont find me intimidating , my main motivation when i slip in puns is to get people to laugh at how terrible they are , because im well aware theyre pretty bad (or all my friends just have the same broken sense of humor i do) . but yeah , i guess now theres two people on my genshin kin list now why do i kin both of the artificial humans in the game -

lets play a game where we ask eachother random questions , so its easier to end things off lol , got a window in your room ? if so , rate the view it has !

- jellyfish

yes the summers fic is so good thank you very much for recommending me it 😖🫶

AND YOOO THOSE GAMES ARE CUTE HAHA i liked nel and akira!!! also impressive how you did 2/3 of them in scratch,, i've had very little experience with it from like a few years back when i took a computing class and damn was it hard as hell 😵‍💫😵‍💫 so kudos to you man

glad i'm not the only one who comments on my own fics on docs LMAO and like you said, it's insanely fun!!!

the way that you're technically all of the above in the bingo 😭😭😭 and that drawing is sooo pretty!£8483£!!£! is that you or an oc of yours? (either way i've been eyeing it ever since i started typing here, hehe)

sooo i basically predicted what you're like irl?

i think for the most part it's because i'm a bit similar to you in some sort of ways, i'm only ever close with my closest friends and can get tired by interacting with people sometimes 😞 but the downside is that everyone finds me scary HAHA 😭😭 my friends had told me a bunch of times on how intimidating i look, when i really just have a normal expression on my face... apparently they said i always look like i have murder on my mind 🚶‍♀️

you now have another addition to the kin list, congrats 🤗

GREAT GAME!!! i do have a window in my room but it doesn't really have a great view... i'm currently living in a shitty apartment for the time being and the only thing i see from the window of my room is my neighbour's unit from my apartment complex 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ so i'd probably give it a 3/10 T-T

now, a question for you! what's the most silliest thing that you currently own? (it can be a purchased item, a gift you got, etc)

hope you're having a great day jellyfish ^^

[wander-wren]

hi! i got distracted and forgot to finish the thing. getting into the sequel chatgpt wrote me.

for context, here’s the sequel to the fic that i wrote, which had the limitation of being a whumptober fic (written in one day, between 1,000 and 1,200 words as a personal challenge) for the prompt “silent panic attack.” the ai did not have these limitations, but its sequel still ended up clocking in at ~600 words as per usual.

let’s get into it! the whole thing fits in four screenshots, so it’s actually a bit shorter than the previous generated work.

i asked it to write a sequel where the characters go to the hospital to get checked out, but adam is very afraid of hospitals.

so apparently ai decided cassie still needs to be here despite me feeding the fic in again to try to prevent it getting confused and taking from its own fic. chatgpt really wants me to see its oc, i guess

i can’t really judge the bot on how ooc adam is here (very) because, like i said, it doesn’t seem to have a lot of data on trc. but this is another shortcoming; the characters are all going to be an amalgamation of averages and probably pretty inconsistent, especially if you asked it to keep generating more parts to this story beyond this one.

“we gotta get you checked out, parrish. you took a beating” is an infuriatingly spot-on ronan line. dammit. i mean they’re both common phrases, but still.

i was really impressed for a second with the description of noah’s “insubstantial fingers” because that’s a really noah word, and also one of my favorite words in general, and i was like “maybe it DOES have some trc data…” and then while i was making this post i realized that i used the phrase “noah’s insubstantial fingers ghost over his arm” earlier [lmao, ghost]. you can see it in a screenshot! again, all the best parts are copied.

finally, i am DYING laughing at nonspecific “tests” and adam’s subsequent horror. i wonder what that entails! please give us the angst, chatgpt, please

i lied it’s not four screenshots, i can’t read. last bit!

well that was anticlimactic and boring. i kinda want to fault them for the “always, name. always” construction but i do that all the fucking time (if usually with different words) so i can’t. whoops.

what are they testing. what were adam’s injuries. we don’t even get any panic, and the most ronan does is like touch his shoulder. ai doesn’t want my gayboys to be gay!!!!!!

“heading towards a new chapter where healing takes precendence over fear” bleh. gross. disgusting. i HATE those kinds of movie monologue drive into the sunset spoon feeding a moral lesson endings. it always feels so canned. also it’s literally not even applicable here because it implies that a key theme of this is adam overcoming his hospital trauma, which it’s not.

what i DO find interesting is that, while my sequel was pretty different, we landed on somewhat similar endings

except that rather than outright state a theme, i just emphasize the soft gentle loving Vibes, and then nod to mr “adam parrish, army of one”s frequent refusals of help (which often take the shape of monmouth), showing that he is accepting more help this time than is strictly necessary instead of running off to lick his wounds alone. character growth! also contrasting ronan’s smile with earlier descriptions of painful, blinding hospital lights.

okay. so.

let’s pretend i was using chatgpt to get some ideas/an outline for my own sequel. ai is meant as a tool, right? is it useful?

this story is pretty consistent and coherent, all things considered. much moreso than the first, probably because it wasn’t trying to directly copy me. it also follows the prompt and has, loosely speaking, a full plot arc.

if i were to use this as an outline i would be mostly interested in the starting image of ronan rushing through the doors of the ER. if i wanted adam’s torture wounds to be pretty significant, that’s warranted! i skipped out on the ER arrival and kept the injuries fairly mild for the sake of space in my own sequel, but i could make this work. i do love drama.

i would disregard all of adam’s actions in the waiting room. boy is stubborn as fuck and uses anger to cover fear. he would either get mad and insist they go or totally shut down. i like shutdown more but that’s besides the point. gansey and noah meeting them there is a nice touch, reminds me of the other times the gang runs after one wayward member. cute. given gansey’s previous reactions to hospital visits, though, i would be tempted to give him stressed mother hen vibes. then again, he knows adam wouldnt want a fuss…could go either way.

the description of adam’s fear is super vague and generic, so insert some flashbacks or have adam focus way too hard on small details to try to take his mind off the whole hospital thing.

there’s no way everyone would be allowed into the exam room, so nix that. the whole nurse/doctor section is so vague as to be entirely useless. tests??? for real???

naturally i would up the drama by about 1000x, yall know me by now, and chatgpt simply isn’t going to give us that. ending with going home is a perfectly logical conclusion and one i made myself, so i don’t think ai was necessary for that, but endings are hard sometimes so it gets a point for that.

so basically it gave me a very rough starting and ending point and some ideas of what not to do. i wouldn’t personally bother with using it as a tool, especially for anything longer than a little 1k fic like this, but if you have absolutely no ideas i can see how it creates a jumping off point/loose framework.

keep in mind, though, that it likely won’t be able to keep a consistent characterization, and again, every word is the most likely next word in the sentence, so your plot is going to be pretty generic by default. this isn’t always a bad thing—a lot of fanfic is about exploring the exact same topic over and over again—but it is something to be mindful of as a creator. and be aware also that ai generally has little data about the source material or characterization, so it’s likely to be inaccurate.

in conclusion, i have a lot of complicated feelings about ai, and it’s still not a tool that is helpful to me or my process at all. if you’re a new writer, struggling with block, disabled, etc, it totally might be.

i’ve said it in a post before and i’ll say it again now: ai writing has its uses, but a lot of the attitude i personally see about it reeks of laziness and “content for content’s sake,” which is something i absolutely don’t want near my fandom spaces. it’s certainly not exclusive to ai users, it’s been here a long time, but ai does make it easier and more visible. just don’t be a capitalist, okay?

*holds up shield* don’t throw things at me but i have actually developed nuanced opinions on AI over the past couple of months. imagine that. but this isn’t a post about those nuanced opinions! i can get into them later

this is a post where i reluctantly went to chatgpt to perform An Experiment, because if there’s one thing i love it’s writing-related data and making fun of bad writing guilt-free. and now that i’m not ideologically opposed with every atom of my body to AI i can do that!

i chose to give ai one of my older fics (from 2022), both because it was short enough for the text box and because, given all the scraping drama, ai probably already has it anyway. i was very tempted to put in something original, but i haven’t yet.

then i asked it, first, to write something mimicking that style, to….horrible results. i also asked it to write a sequel to the fic, because i had written a sequel myself. i got….interesting results from that. i have some thoughts on how ai writes, what it could be used for, and what it should almost definitely not be used for.

let’s get into it!

so, to start off, i used my raven cycle fic hostage situation. it’s not my best, being both old and written in like an hour for whumptober, but it’s not the worst.

when i asked chatgpt to mimic the style, i expected it to create something similar (this was a kidnapping with torture h/c fic, so something like that) and to do its very best to write something that sounded like a thing i would write. you know, like the ai art that puts in specific artists’ names to get something like their style.

i did not get that. maybe i would have if i had given it a more specific prompt, like, write a story about X in the style of this story, but i didn’t and i don’t really want to go back to chatgpt again, so just…shh. this was still a useful exercise, i promise!

let’s start by looking at the openings of each piece.

first of all, it chose to change the names and some more specific details, but literally nothing else. also love how it switches from ronnie (ronan?) to theo (gansey) almost immediately and there is cassie (noah) and cassie (adam).

also they made my gay fic hetero. alright.

also, this introduces a theme that we see throughout this endeavor. the ai has little to no idea what trc is or who the characters are (actually it has no idea what anything is, i shouldn’t anthropomorphize, but it doesnt have enough data to pick up on patterns like it might with, say, MCU fic). therefore, it ruins one of my favorite things about writing fic, especially for trc, and that is making dozens of subtle references that probably most other fans would even miss.

for example, right here we have references to ronan’s never-ending battle with his phone, his father’s death, and, if you squint, that One Line that goes “jesus,” gansey said, “christ.” which i have heard talked about a few times and lives in my head rent free. i’m sure no one else thinks about it that much, but it’s a very specific inflection and i love it.

the one (1) thing i will say is that “theo’s breath catches” is totally something i would write, and the ai didn’t copy it from this fic. i mean, it’s still pretty generic, but it kinda feels house style-y to me. hm.

continuing on! let’s see what the video is

so basically it stripped out all the fun description. incredibly rude, this was my favorite part to write. again, i’m wondering if there’s something significant about changing “guy who had to be rescued” to a girl.

there’s also a lot of confusion on like, what’s happening and why on the ai’s side. it’s copying my words, but cutting a lot, so there’s no reason for, say, the villain commenting in her mental faculties—she didn’t seem disoriented before, and she hasn’t done anything now to prompt the remark. also, we “see” cassie and then the newspaper gets pulled away to “reveal” her. it’s very messy. we also don’t get cassie telling theo not to come for her, something that is pretty important in adam’s case, mr. self-sacrifice, lover of ronan.

what happens when boyfriend comes to the rescue?

sorry i’m laughing because theo is still gansey in my head and him having like, full tattoo sleeves is Sending Me.

once again, cutting out the good description and making it all generic. this part makes sense, at least, but it’s less interesting. the best parts are the dialogue and THE DIALOGUE IS MINE. verbatim.

the line “time blurs since the video, her only link to theo gone” is grammatically incorrect or at the very least clunky. idk why that got changed.

changed the lastname-firstname switch that is so very important to pynch. kay.

obviously theo isnt ronan and this technically isnt fanfic so we lose the kavinsky/matthew reference, even though that adds depth to the scene when you remember that almost exactly this thing has happened to ronan with someone he loves before, so this has to be very fraught for him.

let’s finish up with the ending!

so this part doesn’t make any sense in the EXTREMELY limited context of the ai’s story. at the very beginning, it said that one of the three has the ability to manipulate illusions (which in itself is a bit odd—shouldn’t it be create illusions? or can you only manipulate illusions that are already there? that’s not very useful), but that doesn’t have anything to do with violence. is the implication that our dear friends [checks notes] ronnie and cassie2 did this??

the implication in the original fic is that ronan used dream creatures or something similar; it’s his subconscious, not technically his own work depending on how you look at it. i don’t believe ronan would commit violence like this where adam could see (hence why he wanted adam not to look) because of adam’s history of abuse, but ronan also has a lot of anger and a lot of monsters in his head and a lot of love for adam. so.

because this is fanfic, i don’t have to spell any of that out. it just is. but in the ai’s story it doesn’t know why or how that part exists, it just copies it.

and then basic ending where the ai says the quiet/implied part out loud. boring.

it should also be noted that chatgpt generated stories only clock in at around 600 words. the three screenshots here are almost all of that generation, while my fic is almost twice as long.

so my main takeaway here, aside from “chatgpt is bad at my favorite part of fanfic” as i said, is that chatgpt can’t really effectively mimic a writing style that isn’t generic or very close to it, because of the whole “most likely word” thing. and if your style is very generic than other human people already write a lot like you and/or could mimic you very easily.

i don’t have an outside perspective on what makes my fics recognizably mine (tell me?), but i’ve had a lot of people comment on the way i describe emotions. which is cool, because i love doing that. i like implying things with body language (especially focusing on where someone is/isn’t looking) even more than directly describing what people are feeling. the ai’s style is very much about stating directly what characters feel, often to the point of redundancy, a huge pet peeve of mine.

so yeah, not uber useful for fanfic writing. tumblr photo limits prevent me from continuing with the second experiment (writing a sequel to this fic), but i’ll be back in a hot second to write that one.

[mrsseverussnape]

Perfect Day

a/n: Finally i wrote a Snape x reader fic after a very long time. I don’t know if it is any good or not but i am just trying to turn back to writing. I know i declined many requests lately and didn’t write anything and probably because of that i feel like i lost touch with my readers… I feel down quickly if i don’t have any interactions with my posts and that’s what happened in summary… anyways i don’t want to rant so much, hope you enjoy this💕

Pairing: Severus Snape x reader

Theme: pure fluff

If heaven was real, it must have looked and felt like that otherwise you would be disappointed. The sky looked like a cotton candy with its pink and purple colouring and the puffy clouds were like marshmallows on top. The summer wind was breezing lightly and bringing the sweet scents of the cherry blossom trees which were planted by the river along with many others and keeping the place secluded. When you first walked through them, it felt like you entered a whole new world from a fairy tale. At first the turquoise coloured river was welcoming you, its colour was not like any other you have seen before. After you admired the river then the details it holds took your attention from its pretty colour. There were pink and white lotus flowers on top of it, they looked like some type of jewels decorating the river and added even more beauty to it if it’s possible. And lastly white swans were swimming effortlessly with full of elegance, how pretty creatures they were. But the best part of them all; you were in your lover’s embrace, your back was pressed against his chest and his strong arms were wrapped around your waist protectively while you were floating slowly in the small boat along with the swans. His grip around you tightened when he left a kiss on your hair to gain your attention. Severus has noticed that you were deep in your thoughts for a while.

“What are you thinking love? Are you bored…?”

“I am capturing every bit of the beautifulness.” You rested your head on his shoulder and looked up at him. “This is the best day ever.”

Severus gave you one of his rare smiles that always manage to warm your heart. “This is the best day so far. Many more is waiting for us in the future.” One of his hands moved from your waist to your peach-coloured cheek, his thumb caressed your soft skin. His black eyes fixed on your pretty face; he knew every tiny detail of it as if it’s palm of his hand. You were way more beautiful than the scenery you two were in but he knew very well you would scoff at him if he told you that. You were very successful to see the beauty in everything, the compliments you told to him were the things he wouldn’t imagine in his wildest dreams. But when it came to your own beauty you were very humble about it or sometimes you failed to see it.

“Oh look it’s you!” You pointed at the only black swan you have seen today with soft giggles.

Severus drew his attention from your face to the direction you were pointing at. Severus tried to stop his urge to role his eyes but you looked like you are enjoying yourself. “You say so…?”

“Yes!” you nodded so sure of yourself. “Look how sophisticated and elegant it is, swimming in some kind of harmony just like how you walk with your billowing cloak. Do you know that muggle fairy tale called The Ugly Duckling? The baby swan gets mixed with duck eggs and growing up everyone casts him away because he looks different. But then he grows up to be beautiful swan and finds his own kind then everyone gets jealous of him and feels bad how badly they treated him in the past. I think this sounds similar with your life story… Also if someone tries to pet it, probably it will bite; that’s very much how you act too.” You grinned cheekily.

Severus was feeling emotional by the things you said until the very last sentence, he couldn’t help but cackled at the statement knowing it’s not totally wrong. Then his eyebrow raised with a mischievous smirk, his dark eyes darted at your bare shoulder. “Like that my sweet?” then he bit your shoulder.

“Severus Snape! You wild man!” You dramatically wiggled but couldn’t help your laugh.

“Wild man? Ouch…” He pouted jokingly. “Last night you were pleading “more more”, wasn’t I a wild man then?” now a smirk replaced his fake pout when he noticed your face was blushing madly.

“You are such a tease Sev!”

“But you love me for it.”

“I do love you very much my biting black swan.”

Taglist:

@snapefiction @lizlil @elizabeth-baelish @misselsbells06 @mais-e @lunnybunny12 @anfre109 @entirelymesmerising @wolvesofwinter13 @mrssnivellussnape @mestin-writes

If you wanna be on my taglist, let me know!

[lonelier-version-of-you]

Tonight’s episodes were a bit ‘eh’. Some very good storylines, some not so good ones. Lots of very good acting all around though.

As a prelude to my reviews: I must admit, the more time passes since the brilliant “Wednesday’s Child”, the more I come to realise what a bad decision this Ollie storyline is. Maybe it’s made for a few good episodes in the short term, but in the long run? Ollie was one of the Casualty kids with the most potential. Harry Collett was fabulous in the role, and I, like many of us, hoped for an eventual story about Ollie developing bipolar - that could’ve been a fantastic storyline to do and I trust Casualty would have handled it brilliantly.

But they threw all that away. And I think the producers will find themselves majorly regretting this decision in the long term.

I am also just so tired of Holby City Hospital staff members having dead murderous sons. I’m tired of it.

The original Henrik and Fredrik story on Holby was a masterpiece. But here’s the thing: that sort of story only works once. Or at the very, VERY least, once in a decade. But Holby kept trying to repeat similar stories for cheap shocks in the hope of getting the same viewing figures and praise as they did for the Fredrik story, and eventually, they sank low enough that they just straight up repeated the “murderous son” theme with Bernie and Cameron, a storyline so dreadful it couldn’t even be saved by the acting talents of the wonderful Jemma Redgrave.

And now, with Holby gone, Casualty has repeated the storyline again with David and Ollie. And although the writing is better than it was for Holby’s Cameron story, the fundamental fact that this is a story that only works once still remains.

Will Casualty try to endlessly repeat and copy this story, become stuck on it, the way Holby did with Fredrik? I desperately hope not, as reiterations of Fredrik were what led to Holby’s downfall. Will they create various storylines or even write in massive retcons just to give David a bunch of “replacement Ollies”, in a manner that’s actually quite insensitive to his grief if anything, the same way Holby gave Henrik “replacement Fredriks”? They’d better not.

“Wednesday’s Child” was an incredible episode. As a piece of drama in its own right, it was BAFTA-worthy. I’m sticking to that. But honestly, it felt like someone wanted to make a one-off or miniseries drama set in the US, got asked to make an episode of Casualty instead, and implemented their idea anyway. This story doesn’t belong on Casualty. It’s not realistic and it’s a waste of what could’ve been a great character.

Sigh.

Onto the actual episodes. I’ll start with episode 1, “Blame Game”:

First of all, “Blame Game” feels like a really boring title for an episode like this. I don’t know what they could’ve called it instead unless they wanted to go full on with the stealing from Holby and call it “We Need To Talk About Ollie”, but still.

Speaking of Holby, it was nice to see Michelle Lipton wrote this episode - I didn’t realise it was her till I saw her name at the start! She hasn’t written for Casualty in quite a while so it’s nice to know we’ll still be graced with her talent, even with Holby over.

It was a pretty damn good episode. Even if it did feel like someone was writing a Dylan/David shipping angst fic and somehow got it onto the screen. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, it’s just... a thing.

Jason Durr and William Beck are both INCREDIBLE actors with an excellent rapport and they knocked it out of the park tonight. Jason Durr in particular so deserves a BAFTA for this.

I’m adoring seeing the Dylan/David friendship revisited, and Dylan doing so much to try to look after David and do his best to protect him in whatever ways he knows how. I do wish, of course, that it was in a better situation.

My heart absolutely broke for David even more tonight. Him just... letting the people beat him up, because he thought he deserved it, was heartwrenching. And those early scenes with him looking through the photos and videos of Ollie were just... gah.

People are saying they think this will lead to David leaving the show. I don’t think it has to in the slightest (Henrik stayed, remember), but I do think it will take a very long while for him to find any sort of normality again after this. Fuck. Poor bloke. :(

Faith is just AWFUL. Whenever I think I can’t hate her more, she finds a way to make everything about herself and how she thinks she’s better than anyone else. I don’t even have words for her actions tonight except “how the fuck does anyone still like her”. I’m glad she got called out on her detestable behaviour for once. And I can’t imagine Dylan going anywhere near her again after what she said about David.

The plot with the boy and the gerbil was weird. Nothing much to say about that.

The sightseer couple were very cute, though. I liked them. It’s nice having so many patient storylines lately.

And I loved the moment when Dylan gave Acting Clinical Lead to Ethan and Stevie was like “so it’s a BOYS’ club?!”, as if she doesn’t know full well she’s tried to get that job so she could literally conspire against people before. Where’s that meme post that’s like “me on trial for murder: You guys just hate women having fun!!”? That’s Stevie.

Episode 2, “One In, One Out”:

I like Stevie as a character. She’s improved greatly recently, and it helps that Elinor Lawless is a fantastic actress. Is Stevie a terrible, unlikeable person? Yeah, absolutely. Do I enjoy watching her anyway? Yes. So I enjoyed this episode well enough, though it wasn’t as good as the first.

Annoys me that Stevie and Marcus have had more onscreen kisses than Henrik and Russ ever got, though. Sigh.

It was nice to see Bex from Eastenders (aka Jasmine Armfield) as one of the guest characters.

Sah getting deadnamed over and over again is so annoying. This is not a necessary thing to do with trans characters! It’s not! Arin Smethurst was great though.

Not sure what to think of the new anaesthetist. He’s just sort of... there.

The robber patients were wild and their story shouldn’t have worked, but it did. I liked them.

Also - a songtage on Casualty?? That just feels wrong, songtages were Holby’s thing.

Anyway, next week’s ep is Ollie’s funeral, with a fantastically chosen episode title - “Parental Guidance”. We’d best all be ready to cry at Jason Durr’s acting for the third week in a row.

[stardust-kenobi]

Sunlight

Obi Wan Kenobi x Fem!Reader

Summary: Obi Wan is stressed about the war, and you offer him some relief in more ways than one.

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: fluff, smut, riding 

A/N: I feel like this is kinda similar to the mando fic I wrote with the whole “oh you’re stressed, wanna fuck?” scenario but it sure is a good scenario so let’s go with it 🥰

I have been so MIA, but I hope this was worth the wait!!

Requested by anon; hope you love it ❤️

gif cred: @coredrive​

His chin rested in the crevice between his index finger and thumb. He was absent for his words. The foggy rays of light that beamed onto his face illuminated the crystal blue in his eyes. His brows were furrowed, pressing against one another with intense thought and pondering. His body leaned forward with his mind racing faster now. You couldn’t read his thoughts, of course, but his body told you everything you needed to know.

Sitting on the sofa next to Obi Wan provided you with a view to observe his position and the way he so clearly was lost in his mind. You wanted to speak up, but you needed to read him further. Your sight traced the curve of his lips and the golden glow of his hair in the suns light. A stray lock of hair rested on his forehead, so delicate and light. He must have known you were staring at it, as he quickly ran his fingers through his hair, taking the loose lock with it.

“Obi Wan” you called to him gently.

He was unphased and still, refusing your call unintentionally. You speak up again, with no reciprocation.

“Obi Wan” you said firmer this time, and placed your hand on his knee, hoping your touch would snap his attention away from himself.

His body jolted slightly, and he blinked himself right out of the funk inside his head. He shook his head before turning to you, visibly traveling back to reality.

“Darling, I’m so sorry” he sighed, looking into your gaze.

“Are you alright?”

“Just have a lot on my mind. Nothing you should worry yourself about” he smiled, playing off his obvious distress. His smile said more to you than most people would recognize. To you, it meant that no matter the mood he was in, looking to you brought him instant happiness.

“You can talk to me. You know that right?” You consoled him.

Obi Wan’s expression changed. He appeared confused.

“Oh no, it’s nothing serious, I promise you” he assured you.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am sure. You care too much for me” he tried to hide a flustered smile at how much you worried.

“Of course I care for you, Obi Wan” you said, displeased at his doubt. “I care quite a lot about you”

“And what did I do to deserve compassion from such a wonderful woman?” His voice grew softer while he placed his palm on top of yours that still laid on his knee.

You tried to hide your smile but you were unsuccessful in your attempt. You were without words but your expression said it all. Obi Wan looked into you for a moment before releasing a deep sigh and turning his attention to your hands.

“If you truly wanted to know what’s on my mind, I’ll tell you, but it would only bore you”

“Of course I want to know, hush” you scoffed.

“Well alright...” he began. “Anakin and I have been instructed to think of more effective strategies for our battles in the war. The council told us we need to direct our troopers better. Really, I don’t...I don’t even know what that means. We’ve been incredibly successful, especially recently. We aren’t sure where this is coming from.” He paused to think “Anyhow, its been plaguing my mind to create new plans but I’m just lost with it. Anakin is, as well” he rambled, but you listened to every word he said. Even if you didn’t fully understand what your boyfriend was saying, you were there to support him.

“That doesn’t make sense, Obi Wan. You’re the best general that they have” you praised him. He raised his eyebrows, indicating that he wasn’t so sure of that.

“I hardly think so. But thank you”

“Maybe you should rest. It may help you clear your mind” you suggested warmly. He smiled at you with affection.

“Oh no that’s alright darling. I’ve been doing plenty of resting and meditation. It hasn’t helped much” he began, sounding defeated. “Don’t you worry”

“Okay”

“I’ve been quite distracted as well. That’s only made it harder to relax” he blurted almost hesitantly.

“What’s distracting you?” You pried.

“Just...certain things.” He sounded as if he hinted at something.

“What kind of things?”

“You.”

“What?”

“I’ve been thinking of you, a lot, and...its becoming...very distracting” he spat out quickly, hoping that the faster it left his lips, the faster he could pretend he never said it.

Butterflies danced in your tummy and your cheeks were flushed red. He thought of you. To think he thought of you with the extent of being a distraction made your heart skip a beat or two.

“I distract you? What kind of thoughts of me could possibly distract you to this extent, Obi Wan?” You subtly teased him, and hoped he provided the answer you wanted.

“You’re just so...breathtaking. Just watching you walk in a room drives me crazy” he danced around what he wanted. Your breath hitched in your throat.

“I see” you purred.

“I just, stars, y/n, I need you” he pleaded softly. A warmth grew inside of you. It had been a while since you two had any intimate time together, you’d both been so busy. It was still a new relationship, and his affection was still very unfamiliar to you, which is why you were so nervous.

You responded without words, but simply a repositioning of your hips into his lap. Straddling his his thighs spread widely on the couch, you pressed yourself into him firmly. His slight arousal was already apparent through the thin of his robes’ fabric.

“I’m all yours, Obi Wan” you whispered against his lips before locking them with his mouth. He vibration transferred from his lips into yours, so eager for your touch.

“Show me that you’re mine now, my love” he breathed into you. You shivered at the seduction of his gruff voice. You grinded into him instantaneously, feeling him grow against you while you did so.

“I can relieve your stress, Obi Wan. If you’ll let me”

“Maker...do as you please with me” he begged of you, his fingers digging into the curves of your waist and pulling you into him. Obi Wan’s words of encouragement turned you on immediately and you noticed the bulge that continued to grow against your heat.

“Just relax my love” you gently breathed as you wrapped your hands over his tensed shoulders and he rolled them back into your grip.

Your hips shifted backward to allow yourself access to his desperate and sensitive core. Your fingers pulled at the hem of his pants in order to release him. Obi Wan gladly lifted his body to shimmy his trousers down slightly. You watched in eager anticipation as his cock was revealed to you. You bit your bottom lip, and you could feel Obi Wan looked intently at you, observing how you watched him and admired his most private region.

“Please...” he whimpered. Impatient for your hands on him, starved of touch beyond comprehension.

“Whatever you wish, Master Kenobi” you whispered against his lips, before pressing them into his again, and slipping your tongue into his mouth. With your eyes closed, your hand navigated to his cock, completely stiff and awaiting your caress.

His body jolted as you wrapped your fingers around his length, applying only slight pressure. As you stroked him gently, Obi Wan pulled away from your lips to release pleasurable sounds from his throat. His head laid back against the sofa and his took in the sensation of your touch. You continued to pump him firmly, responding to how his body leaned into you and the moans he produced.

“Stars, y/n, let me have you, now” he pleaded for the warmth inside you. You could feel the pooled wetness already formed within you, knowing you needed no foreplay to continue with this. Nothing out of the ordinary with him, it never took much to arouse you with Obi Wan, sometimes you questioned if he was subtly using the force on you.

You lifted your gown to your thighs and pulled the thin lace of your panties to the side. He watched you, mentally preparing himself for you and eyeing you like you were his next meal. Inching forward and hovering yourself over his cock, you breathed deeply, heart racing as if you’d never loved him in this way before.

You lowered yourself slowly, never breaking your gaze into his eyes. He whimpered for you to continue and bury him within you. The walls inside you wrapped around him gracefully and a blissful sound escaped you, throwing your head back at this first feeling of being filled for the first time in so long.

“Wait a moment” he requested, pulling your attention from pleasing him. “I just want to look at you” He says before swallowing hard in attempts to continue his patience while your hips are sewn together. “I want to feel you--just like this”. You felt the gentle twitch of his cock within you, as he cherished being warmed and comforted by your body.

“You’re so beautiful” he whispered as if there was anyone else in the vicinity. 

Man he knows how to make you putty in his hands, doesn’t he?

Obi Wan nudged you with his fingertips to indicate he wished for you to carry on with your intentions. It was heaven for both of you while your bodies rolled together with unity you formed. Obi Wan breathed out tenderly and his hands trembled against your hips as you guided your sex up his length, adding motion to your effort.

“Oh, darling” he groaned. The sunlight moved into position to highlight his features. Stars, you thought, he looks like an angel. The soft illumination of the evening sun peeking through the windows painted a vivid picture of his facial features, and the expression he displayed as a result of your touch. His eyes shut gently to take in the sensations you provided him. Your palm explored the texture of his robes, still clung to his skin on his chest, never given to chance to be removed.

“Obi Wan” you vocalized sweetly. His eyes peered open to meet yours. He was melting for you while you overtook him. You always made sure to be vocal and responsive in bed with Obi Wan. He often showed you how much he adored your whimpering by pulling you into him or fucking you harder. Today was different. It was your turn to take care of him. Nonetheless, his cock pressed against your most delicate and sensitive spots inside you while you rode him, your moans would be anything but quiet.

“Yes, my love, don’t stop. You make me feel so good, y/n” his hands glided up and down your curves. An array of chills shot down your spine at his caress and you grinded your hips in the same motions that you lifted up and down onto him. You switched to a rotation of your hips that you knew drove him crazy every single time. It was simple, really, but you always used this technique on occasion. You’d raise your hips swiftly, and lower yourself slowly at an angle while grinding down onto him.  His breath hitched suddenly and he grabbed you firmly, pulling you forward and pressing you against his chest. Obi Wan was never great at letting you take over, even when he wanted you to. He liked to take you as his.

Next, Obi Wan made a quick motion that you were unable to process before it was already happening. He lifted you and placed you down onto the sofa, and hovered above you.

“I’m sorry, darling but-” He started “In order to relieve my stress, I want to have you like this...is that alright?” He checked with you, always, never to leave you uncomfortable during your intimate moments. You smirked and nodded your head in approval. Returning his cock to bury inside your pussy, he began to thrust quickly. A moan created by the sensation of this new angle became trapped in your throat finally released with a blissful sigh.

“Obi Wan, I love y-...you” you whispered, piercing your gaze into his eyes. His thrusts halted at your sentiment.

You’d never said that to him before.

But you did. You really did love him.

“Y/n...” his voice broke. His eyes were hopeful.

You wondered if now was the best time to tell him that, but you couldn’t take it back now. You didn’t want to.

He cupped your face with his hand that wasn't supporting himself above you.

“I love you” he smiled through his words. You smiled back, your face pressed against his palm. “More than you know, my darling”

He resumed his thrusting, jolting you both back into a different mindset. Obi Wan’s hips slapped the inside of your thighs repeatedly, putting himself as deep into you as possible, but still barely fitting. You let him set the pace he desired, after all, you still wanted this to be about him.

His moans were so rough and breathy as they crept from his throat. Something about your body causing him to sound so beautiful aroused you tremendously.

You felt the pit of your belly tense while Obi Wan curled his hips into you faster. You were so close to your orgasm.

“Mm, Obi...yes, right there” you pleaded for him to keep his pace.

“Does that feel good, my love?”

“Y-yes it feels so good. I’m gonna cum” you whimpered, desperate for your release.

“Not yet, darling. I want us to cum together”

It would be a challenge to hold it back, but you did, for him. Thankfully for you, it was only seconds later that you heard his moans and whimpering grow louder and choppier, indicating that he was close to his release.

“Stars, y/n, I’m so close”

“Cum inside me, Obi Wan” you purred.

“Are you sure?” He barely managed to say.

With your nod of approval, Obi Wan spilled himself into you followed by his unmuffled sounds that released his sexual buildup as well as his stress buildup. Your close peak reached your core, and washed over you, contracting your walls around him while he came inside you.

“Fuck yes!” You cried, seeing stars with your head thrown back against the sofa.

Obi Wan gripped the back of your neck firmly, but was careful not to hurt you. He was trembling softly as he floated back down. He smirked at you while the two of you attempted to catch your breath. A small chuckle escaped you.

“What is it?” Obi Wan curiously pried into what humored you so suddenly.

“I just...maker, I..I really do love you Obi Wan” you felt the need to repeat these words to him. He needed to know, and you never wanted to stop saying it. He smiled in the way he did before, so warm and inviting.

He sat next to you and placed your head on his lap.

“I love you, too. I always will” 

“Let me know the next time you’re feeling...what was it that you said? ‘Distracted’? or ‘Stressed’?” You teased him.

“Believe me, I will” He giggled with you, before you both drifted into a peaceful sleep.

[a-dusty-emerald]

Till it sinks in: Draco x Reader / Hurt-Comfort, Fluff Fic

A hurt-comfort fluff fic, with a slytherin Y/n being the girlfriend of the softie-who-hates-to-be-called-softie-so-he-bitches-all-day Draco Lucius Malfoy.

Where Umbridge uses her quill on you.

_____________________________________________

Dolores Umbridge, maybe the most hated teacher to set foot at Hogwarts, had a special dislike against anyone who disobeyed. And while that may be all teachers, not all teachers dismissed sobbing students from their detention. Every single student that got detention with Umbridge looked broken afterwards, but no one knew what she said to them; it was a mystery.

Professor McGonagall, for instance, made sure the students that misbehaved researched a wide topic for a few hours during the week, with the intimidating presence of her self. Professor Snape, on the other hand, locked students in the Potions classroom and let them out after the successfull brewing of a potion of his liking. Hence, it must be something similar.

Y/n strolled into class, her curls bouncing around the embroided slytherin crest of her robe. Defence against the dark arts was her worst subject, she only thought it was interesting when Professor Lupin taught it, and had done surprisingly well. Then, it was a hands-on, useful and fascinating module, while now, Umbridge followed the Ministry's policy to teach the students in a "risk free" way, by only reading through the theory. Not only were the lessons incredibly boring, the whole book was utterly useless.

"As if Voldemort will ask you the theory of Merlin's rule of categorisation of spells when he Avada-Kedavra's your ass", Y/n had scoffed when she saw the chapters. Draco had laughed, but told her that his father had owled him that Umbridge was a family ally, and hence he could not be out of line in her class.

"When did you become such a nerd?"

"Oh shut it Y/n", Y/n recalled.

She had also implemented some stupid rules, like "no touching between boys and girls, and a six feet distance at all times", and reduced the hours that students could go out of their dorms. While Dumbledore wanted the students to be at their dorms by 10pm, Umbridge thought that 6pm was acceptable.

As if.

Y/n entered the class, the only class she did not sit with Draco. Apparently, boys and girls could also not sit with one another, since they would eventually touch. And in a doomed world controlled by Umbridge, that was a sin.

Draco spotted his girlfriend entering the room, wearing a bored look on her face. He was not excited about DADA either. His parents might have told him that Umbridge was the best thing that could happen in this school, but he was not blind or stupid. The stuff being taught were useless and her teaching method was more boring than 5 hours of Divination with no breaks in his eyes. At least then, he could laugh at Trelawney. Now he just was supposed to stay silent and listen Umbridge reading the most basic book ever again and again.

He realised he got lost in his thoughts and was staring at Y/n longer than intended. She seemed bored as hell, but her eyes always intimidated him - yet, he would never admit out loud. Even the plainest of her looks had such passion beneath it, her deep dark orbs had a fire in them, surrounded by thick eyelashes, making her look coy and mischevious even when she was not planning to.

Y/n noticed him looking and smirked back at him.

"Stop staring, people might think that you like me" she mouthed silently to him. He grinned and shook his head. 'She is something else', he thought.

An unpleasantly familiar trotting of heels approached the creaking floor at the centre of the classroom, making students focus on the short, evil woman that was tormenting the school; Umbridge.

"Hello, my dear students" she smiled in a sickly manner. "Today we are learning about the theory of protection spells."

Y/n groaned, thinking other students would join her, however, it was this uncomfortable and awkward moment that everyone had decided to stay deadly silent, making her disapproving groan loud and clear to be heard.

"Is there an issue, miss Y/l/n?" Umbridge smiled in the evilest way she could.

"No, no, of course not. I always wanted to listen about the theory of protection spells." Y/n smiled in the fakest way possible.

"Is that irony I am sensing, Y/l/n?" Umbridge had a more serious look now, her smile not decieving anyone.

"Nope." She said, emphasising the "p" sound in her lips. Out of the corner of her eye, she quickly glanced to Draco, who had a warning glare. "Don't aggravate her!" He mouthed. Y/n rolled her eyes, and unfortunately for her, Umbridge saw that, taking it as it was directed at her.

She scrunched up her nose and stomped her heel lightly on the floor, when she exclaimed: "Detention after class, miss y/l/n! That attitude of yours is no match for a young witch!"

Draco did not know why everyone was saying Umbridge's detention was horrible, he had heard she only requested some lines. Even so, her detention had gained a horrible reputation, and he didn't like it one bit that his girlfriend would be the one going there.

Even so, he was angry at her, he had warned her so many times. She was such a brat every time she spoke to Umbridge, when he had told her that every student that was leaving her detention was crying.

The DADA lesson had finished, when Y/n saw Draco stomping towards her, stopping around the 6 feet limit, keeping his distance.

"Why do you never listen?!" His angry hissing voice aggravated her even more.

"I rolled my freaking eyes, Draco, chill."

"You were sarcastic. You know you were. Are you happy now?" His glare was piercing her soul.

"I am not, actually. I would prefer no stupid rules, but I guess my boyfriend is too much of a wuss to think for himself and see how ridiculous Umbridge is."

"She just wants order. Besides, its temporary!" He half whispered, half yelled.

"Sure. Tell that to yourself to feel better, darling." Now she was mad at him. "Now excuse me, I have a detention to go to." She closed the gap between them - breaking the rule- just to bump on his shoulder angrily, and stomped past him, going to detention.

"Fine! I don't give a fuck, then!" She heard her boyfriend's voice. She knew he didn't mean it at all, but she silently prayed he changed his mind after her detention, he had an hour to think by himself after all. She was hoping for an apology.

Y/n lightly knocked on her door, listening to Draco's advice for once. She should be polite, calm and collected no matter what she said to her. She couldn't risk an expulsion. Umbridge's sickly laugh was heard. "Come in, y/l/n."

Y/n opened the door, fighting back her urge to laugh or roll her eyes. Her least favourite colour, fuchsia pink, was plastered everywhere, cats trapped on the walls, and a heavy, sickly, sugary aroma filled her nostrils, she did her best to keep her pokerface.

"Sit", the teacher ordered. "You will do some lines today, Y/n."

Relief passed through her. That wasn't that bad. She grabbed a piece of paper and moved to grab her quill, when the fuchsia toad in front of her stopped her. "Oh no, dear. I'm afraid you wont need that." She smiled, and handed her a large black feathered quill from her own collection. "Use this, please. It is one of my favourites."

Y/n grabbed the quill and moved again to reach for her ink. "Oh, silly me, I forgot." She heard the professor giggle. "You won't need any ink, dear."

She looked at Umbridge confused, her tamed eyebrows furrowing to her words. Still, she went with it. She grabbed the quill and before she started, Umbridge directed her "you shall write the line: I must not be arrogant." Y/n resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"How many times, Professor?" She said.

"Hm... let's just say... till it sinks in." Umbridge giggled once again, sipping her tea.

Y/n scoffed silently and started writing the lines, red ink magically appearing on paper. Her left hand was uncomfortable the whole time, but she ignored it. As soon as she finished the first line, though, the discomfort became a burning sensation, and hurt so much, like someone was creating small cuts in her skin. She looked at her hand to see what was going on, only to see the line she wrote engraved in her hand.

'You evil bitch' Y/n thought.

Every time she would rewrite the sentence, it was like the invisible knife digged deeper and deeper in her skin, twisting at each twist of the quill. She looked at Umbridge with teary eyes, a silent plea to stop this torture. Blood was seeping out of her wound uncontrollably now, staining her robe. Umbridge just glanced at her and said "one more page."

Through silent tears, a wrecked bloodied hand, trembles and gritted teeth, she finished her torture without making a sound. She excused her self, said goodbye to the professor, and closed the heavy door behind her, exhaling with a trembled sob escaping her lips. An exhale that she was holding for an hour.

She contained her tears and hid her hand from plain sight. She did not want to worry anyone, and she sprinted with all the energy she could muster to the dungeons. She just wanted to wash it off, wrap it in a clean cloth, and have a good cry.

As she was approaching the dungeons, it dawned on her: she could run up to Draco there. What should she do? On one hand, the thought of making him feel bad enticed her, she was still mad about his behaviour. On the other hand, she knew he meant no harm, and that he would make her start a legal war with Umbridge. She really didn't want to do anything right now, as much as she hated her guts.

She hid her hand better, wiped her eyes, took a few deep breaths and prayed that her boyfriend was not in the common room, as she opened the door.

Unbeknownst to her, Draco was waiting restlessly at the common room all this time. He didn't like the fact they fought before, he hated not being on good terms with Y/n. He didn't think he was entirely on the wrong though. 'Maybe if she listened to me once in a whi-'

His thoughts came to a halt when he saw a trembling Y/n enter the common room. Her eyes were red and glassy, and she was crouched in a weird position. He instantly forgot everything he was thinking of and sprinted towards her. When her eyes fell on him, she inhaled sharply, sttaightening her posture. He was terribly worried and she could feel it.

"Darling?" His soft voice was music to her ears.

Her eyes avoided his, refilling with tears just from his worried voice.

"I-I need to go to my room." She said with a lowered gaze.

"Tell me what's wrong please-"

"I thought you didn't give a fuck." Her voice was low when she said it, her teary eyes finally meeting his. She did not mean to snap at him, but everything was too much.

He finally locked eyes with her now, the emotion he saw in her overtaking him. He pursed his lips and looked down.

"I'm sorry. You know - baby you know thats not true. I want to know what happened. What did she say to you that made you cry? You don't cry easily, I know that. If you want I'll report her!" He was frantically searching for her gaze again, his grey irises full of concern.

"She said nothing bad to me. She instructed me through my lines." She avoided his gaze once again.

He lowered his gaze as well, and broke the -for once- uncomfortable silence, his voice slightly broken.

"Do you not trust me?"

His words echoed in her head. She did. She did with her life. She could not stay mad at him, no matter her anger. "I do. I'm sorry, I'm a-a bit of a m-mess, i'll tell you, j-just give me a few m-minutes..."

His hand grabbed hers to pull her into an embrace, to hold her close, to calm her. As soon as his hand grasped her own, though, a strong wave of stinging pain shot through her, a hissing sound escaping her lips as she yanked her hand away. She was holding it close to her heart, a few hot tears escaping her eyes. There was no escape now.

Draco looked at her wide eyed, a blank expression of confusion mixed with worry resting on his features. "What-"

He looked down on his hand. Blood.

He inhaled sharply. Blood? His heart was pounding in his chest now, his fury for Umbridge boiling. What exactly happened in her detentions?

"Darling." He spoke. His voice was low and steady, and Y/n could swear she could hear her own heartbeat. "Your hand. Please." He extended his own to signal her to give her hers. Slowly, she put her bloodied palm on his own.

"Did she do this?", he hissed angrily. Y/n nodded but winced at his tone, not ready for facing an angry Draco. He saw that, and his features calmed down.

He grasped her shoulders carefully, gently pulling her in a hug, lightly kissing her forehead and letting his lips linger there. He tilted her chin up, pressing a quick peck on her lips.

"Im not mad at you". He said steadily, to show he meant every word. "I'll kill her, honestly" he mumbled, as his eyes examined the wounds.

"I must not be arrogant?!?"

He felt his anger rise again, as he managed to read the cuts that were filled with blood.

"She h-had a black quill. I would write on paper and it would transfer the letters in m-my hand. Must be c-cursed." Y/n said between small sobs.

His one arm cradled her head and she felt him moving the other one on her waist, urging her to move. "Come on, lets get you cleaned up. I'll send a letter to my father. She will be out of her position tomorrow."

Y/n's eyes widened "No n-no I-"

Draco didn't let her finish "Y/n, I love you but please shut up."

For the first time in a while, Y/n giggled, music to Draco's ears.

He took his time being extra gentle on her wound, making sure it is clean, before putting a few healing spells on it, muttering apologies whenever Y/n would wince.

"Tomorrow your hand will be good as new. Trust me."

"I trust you Draco. Thank you."

His eyes looked up from her wound, and Y/n was sure she could melt. He had the softest gaze ever. They fell asleep in each other's embrace, soft kisses taking away the pain.

The next morning, Y/n could hardly stiffle a laugh at the annoucement of Umbridge being suddently fired. She turned at her boyfriend, who looked smug as ever.

His eyes glimmered and his eyebrows wiggled with smugness, as he said:

"She should not have been that arrogant. Guess karma is a bitch." He shrugged.

That Malfoy boy was your everything and you knew it.

FEEL FREE TO LIKE AND SHARE!! Feedback is always welcome, love you all!

[justanartisticduck]

Heya! It’s me again and I am back with yet another fanfic! Ok so this one was actually my first fanfic lol- I actually have no idea why I haven’t posted it here yet BUT this is actually the first fanfic I wrote!! Anyways now to describe this fanfic, well y’all know me and you know how much I love Red and Duck so I wrote this lil story of them! but it has a bit of a twist!! It is actually about Red and Duck in the past and when I say “in the past” I mean before highschool kind of past! (Jeez these two have been friends for a long time huh?) But basically in this fanfic is when these two first met as a matter of fact!! Also small warning! Ducks parents in this fic are implied to be- well- not the best- now I wasn’t sure how to tag this but I just wanted to place this here just to warn y’all! Anyways another thing I wanted to say aswell is I refer to Red as Harry/Harold and Duck as Robin in this fic, just to avoid confusion! :3 Now that’s all I really have to say aside from I hope y’all enjoy the fic!! Again, remember, this was my first fic so if my writing is wonky that’s cuz it quite literally was the first fanfic I wrote! Now with all that out of the way I hope y’all enjoy this!! :DDD

It was a beautiful morning in the city, Harry looked around, amazed at all the tall buildings and beautiful architecture that surrounded him. If buildings weren’t enough the fascinating murals on the walls were definitely enough to leave you mesmerized for hours. He glanced at his mother, she was muttering words under her breath but when she noticed her son was glancing at her she stopped and gave him a reassuring smile through her hair. Harry looked forward when he saw a tall building. The building, when compared to its surroundings, was rather dull and boring, there were many fellow creatures exiting the building, the two common ones were birds and fellow red guys. The two walked into the building and went towards a desk which had a peacock behind the counter.

“Hello, welcome to Mallard Enterprises, how may I assist you two today?”

Harry’s mom spoke in a dull, monotone voice, “Hello sir, we would like to visit the office of Mrs. Mallards.”

“I assume you have an appointment, yes?”

Harry zoned out from the chatter between his mother and the peacock as he looked around at his surroundings. The building, being that it was part of a “big company” in his mother’s words was what you would expect, fancy, quiet, boring. He looked up above the desk where he saw a family portrait of two adult ducks and two young children. The two parents intimidated him, they stared with a look that just said they did not like you. The two children looked fairly similar despite their opposite colors and emotion, almost as if they were twins. One of them was emerald green like their father with a yellow beak which frowned, they wore glasses over their yellow eyes which gave the same glare of their parents and they held a large book about history. The other brother was red just like Harry, he had an odd blue beak, blue eyes, and he gave a look which was much more lively compared to the rest of his family.

“Come on Harold lets go,” his mother said holding onto his hand in the midst of his thoughts.

They took an elevator which brought them to the tenth floor where they entered a lobby room and straight ahead was an office with the name Malicia G. Mallards written on it’s closed door.

“Wait here in the lobby while I consult my boss about you working here, look you even have a little friend to talk to”, she glanced at a young bird who sat on one of the many lobby chairs, they looked fairly similar to one of the children on the family portrait.

“Well that sounds pretty boring..” Harry mumbled, crossing his arms.

His mother sighed and reassured him, “I won’t be long..” she left and entered the office.

Harry sat next to the young bird, they were the kid in the painting. The bird looked fairly young (maybe nine or ten years old…?), he wondered what a child so young would be doing here. The bird was reading a book that seemingly was about trades, business, and money which made Harry even more puzzled about the child, he was fourteen and he still had no idea what the main idea of trades and business was so how did this 9 year old know? The bird seemed to notice the staring and they raised a eyebrow.

“Is something wrong sir?”

Harry was slightly alarmed by the voice, it was fairly odd sounding as if it was auto tuned and mechanic, “Oh no! There’s nothing wrong, I’m just curious about the book you’re reading, that’s all..”

“It’s nothing really, right now I’m learning about oil and how it affected the economy, you see…”

The young bird rambled on and on about oil, money and so many things Harry couldn’t even comprehend, jeez this kid knows a lot.

“You are surely smart for just being nine-“

“I’m thirteen.” the bird said in a stern tone of voice while interrupting Harry.

The bird spoke again in a annoyed voice, “Plus, you sure talk a lot despite being in the workplace, I’m surprised no one has yelled at you yet to mind your manners and be quiet!”, the bird glared at Harry before continuing to read their book.

Harry thought a bit about the building. You see, unlike most of his species, Harry is really creative, what most of his kind would see as utter nonsense he would see as art. He loved all forms of art, one of which was music. He absolutely loved music, he would constantly hum little tunes and it drives his mother and step brother nuts for they only see it as nonsensical words mashed together with noise. His creativity was never accepted among his species, at school in art he would always share his best ideas but in return he would get the typical, “oh that’s great sweetie!” and they would then pass on to another student. He always wanted to work in an art studio, or maybe be in a band, or heck, he could even do a puppet show and he would be happy! But he then remembered his mother’s words as they drove to this city, “I’m going to take you just where I worked when I was your age. You see in this office you’ll learn so many things, you may even become a better business person when compared to me!”, he did not want to do business, or at least not this kind. His mother always wanted him to fit in, a difference was a burden to her, which made Harry himself a burden for he knew just why his mother wanted him to work here, she wanted to “fix” him, she wants to be rid of his creativity so he could be like everyone else. Then he remembered the bird next to him, even though they were a little older than he thought, why were they reading a book about trades when they could be playing games and having fun?

“Hey uhm-“

The duck slammed their book shut, “what is it now?!?”

They gave the red creature a glare filled with annoyance. “Uhhhh I just wanted to know.. if you by any chance could tell me about your mom, Mrs. Mallards…..?”

The bird shrunk into their shoulders, their eyes were wide and seemed to look around the room for a brief moment…

“Well… she is a… uhh… very successful businesswoman and mother.”, they seemed to have rushed those words out before scrambling to find a page in their book to distract themself.

“No, I mean, what do you think of her? I personally think my mom is a lady who just absolutely cannot have fun”

The bird's eyes widened, “I’ve never been asked my opinion before..”

As Harry watched the bird think of their next words carefully, he saw many emotions within their body language; anger, fear, and pain.. he never thought that they would have this side to them, it kinda made him feel bad..

“You.. you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to..” He added, he had a worried expression on his face.

The bird looked back at him, they were trying to figure out just how to respond to Harry, they stood quiet for a brief moment before responding, “I- I don’t want to talk about it.. but it’s nice to hear that someone actually cares about what I think for once..”

Just as Harry prepared to speak again the door to the office opened and Harry’s mother came out with excitement,

“Hey Harold guess where you’re going to be working~”, Harry sighed and replied unenthusiastically, “where…..?”

“Right in this very building”, she said with much more excitement when compared to her son. She then checked her watch and added, “Anyways, we ought to get going-“

“Wait, can I at least say bye to them first?”

She glanced at the small bird and replied, “I suppose, don’t take too long though, I’ll be on the first floor..”, she left for the elevator.

“I have to go..”

The bird jumped out of their seat and sprinted towards the tall creature, “I know you don’t have much time but by any chance… would you like to become friends? I mean you are going to work here and I will be in this building often so I mine as well keep you company because trust me it gets really boring here..”

Harry shrugged his shoulders while slightly smiling just from hearing the bird babble on, “sure..”

The bird looked so excited, they hugged Harry through his excitement, “Yes!! Oh wow, I’ve never actually had a real friend before hahaha! Oh by the way, my name is Robin, Robin D. Mallards..”, they moved back and held out their hand

“Oh, I am Harold, but my friends call me Harry or Red..”, they both shook hands after their brief greeting.

“Anyways I have to go, bye Robin!” Harry rushed towards the elevator waving his hand behind him.

“Goodbye Red!” Robin smiled as they watched their new friend leave..

The elevator took Harry back down to the first floor, the main floor was empty for the most part so it was fairly easy to find his mother. Him and his mother walked out of the building together and to their car. Harry’s mother was constantly talking about random things, Harry didn’t listen to much of what she had to say. Harry’s thoughts were more so focused on Robin, Harry wasn’t used to having friends so having an actual friendship outside of family was something entirely new to Harry. Harry thought about things he had heard friends do and he imagined doing those things with Robin because now he won’t have to act like he has friends, now he won’t just have to pretend there is a person willingly talk to him, no, he can finally have someone to talk to, someone to walk with, someone to just simply enjoy his company. It was hard to see through Harry’s long and thick hair but he was smiling for the first time in months- he continued to think about the future things he and Robin were going to do together then his mother spoke, interrupting his thoughts yet again-

“So luckily for you you got this job!! I absolutely cannot wait for you to work here as I did when I was your age!”

“…yeah.. I can’t wait either..” Red said, rolling his eyes. He honestly was not excited but at least now he has an actual friend to be on his side.. hopefully at least that will make his life just a bit more fun..

[frostedfaves]

Repercussions (14)

Masterlist 

Pairing: dark!Natasha Romanoff x dark!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: The day to escape has come, and you push your feelings aside to get the job done.

Warnings: dark themes, brief injury mention

A/N: I’m planning on making part 15 the ending (which feels crazy to say!!), but if it turns out to be outrageously long, I’ll split it into two parts. also the book I mentioned is by Aleatha Romig, and I think I may order it to read! it seems like it’s much darker than this story, so please be warned of that if you also decide to give it a chance! anyway, can’t wait to hear your thoughts!

Previous part

-

You blinked slowly as you were unwillingly brought to consciousness by the sound of your iPad ringing again. For a moment you sat there, surprising yourself when tears filled your eyes. Sure, you’d had some good moments with your girlfriends despite all the manipulation, but were you really going to miss being held captive?

Deciding not to debate the subject with yourself, you quickly wiped your eyes before rolling over to answer the Facetime call. You were met with the connecting screen and then their beaming faces replaced yours, and a sleepy smile was painted on your features as you realized they were also lying in bed.

“You sure don’t let a girl sleep in, huh?” you teased in a raspy tone, clearing your throat immediately.

“Sorry!” Wanda laughed. “We just wanted to see you before we went to sleep.”

“Are you feeling okay?” Natasha interjected with a frown. “You sound different.”

“I’m fine, just need some water.” You stood with the iPad in your hand, placing it on the bed for a moment while you slipped your robe on. “I don’t know if you remember, but the two of you had me screaming last night.”

“No, we remember very well.”

“Hi, Wesley!” Wanda called as he came into view after pulling the sheets up higher over herself and Natasha.

“Oh, hey guys!”

You handed the device over to him as you walked around him to get water from the fridge, smiling as you overheard his question about the trip and your girlfriends’ enthusiastic responses. Part of you wished this was normal, that your cousin was just visiting while they were out of town and not playing the double role of babysitter for them and partner in crime for you, but you shook the thought away as you were handed the iPad again.

“Good news, printsessa. We should be home in three days instead of five,” Natasha told you with a grin and you gasped.

“Wow, really? That’s amazing! Although I wouldn’t mind if you could come sooner, because I’m getting kind of bored with Wes.” Your sigh turned into laughter as he playfully shoved you.

“Be nice, baby,” Wanda teased with a giggle that was quickly followed by a yawn. “Alright, get some breakfast and we’ll get some sleep.”

“Okay! Text me when you wake up.”

“Of course, printsessa. We love you.”

“Love you too,” you offered with a smile and wave, releasing a deep breath when the call ended.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you answered through another sigh. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You’re actually falling in love with them, aren’t you?”

“Probably.” You dropped the iPad on the table and stepped back to lean against the sink. “But it doesn’t matter anymore. I’m not backing out.”

“As long as you’re sure.” He hands you a plate of pancakes with a sympathetic smile. “I talked to Kendall and the safe house is all set up, just waiting for our arrival. Also wrote down all my contacts and erased everything from my phone and trashed it.”

“We can pack the food after I have a shower,” you added after swallowing a bite of food. “That’ll give them time to fall asleep. Then we can put everything in the car and get the security system disarmed.”

“I’m surprised you’re able to eat right now. I know how nervous you are about this going well.”

You paused with another forkful of pancakes held to your lips, simply shrugging in response. “Turns out I’m a pretty good actress.”

-

As soon as you were dressed you ducked into a camera free zone, checking your device and sighing in relief when you heard their light snores. You wasted no time in making sure you weren’t missing anything in your bag and tucked your burner phone in your pocket as you made your way downstairs.

“They’re asleep,” you announced as you entered the kitchen, stepping over to the counter where Wesley was sorting food into another bag.

“Okay, I’m almost done. I’m only packing snacks from the pantry. We’ll just have to wait until we’re done driving to have a meal. I have bottled water in the car.”

The two of you worked quickly to grab what you could and placed the food and your own personal bags into the backseat before coming back inside and heading to the basement. Wesley picked the lock of the security room and led you inside, and your mouths fell open at the sight. It was bigger than expected, one area of the room dedicated to surveillance of the house and surrounding land, and the other part more of an office area used for mission related things.

Once you’d gotten into the security system, a password protected screen popped up and you took a moment to really think about what it could possibly be. Your mind raced back to the first meeting, first date and any other first that followed, trying not to linger too long on the happier moments.

“What do you think it is?” Wesley finally questioned after a minute of silence.

“Try ‘consequences’.”

A mixture of pride and nausea stirred inside you when you were immediately granted access, but you focused on disabling the security system, jumping to your feet when the two minute timer started. You dropped the tracker on the table before you ran out and got into the car, driving through the gate mere seconds before it began to close. Wesley pulled over to change the license plates once you were a safe enough distance away from the house, and then you were on your way to your new safe home, deep in the middle of Nebraska.

“I have a question,” Wesley broke the silence an hour later, and you turned away from the road to give him your attention. “How did you know the password?”

“It’s the name of the book Natasha was holding when she asked me out. The main character meets a man after work that takes her out to dinner and then kidnaps her, and I don’t know if she knew that when she picked it up or if the summary alone gave her the idea but…It’s just so fucking similar to what they put me through and I just--”

A shiver rippled through you as you allowed your anxiety to take over for a moment, and Wesley was quick to grab your trembling hand in his.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s over now,” he assured you calmly and you exhaled a shuddering breath as you closed your eyes.

“I really hope you’re right.”

-

On the other side of the world, Natasha and Wanda were just waking up from their night of slumber, and Wanda was quick to grab her phone and text you while the woman beside her stretched and yawned.

“What are you up to?”

“Just letting printsessa know we’re awake now.” Wanda put the phone down with a sigh. “Is it bad that I want to retire soon just so I can go back to waking up next to her everyday?”

“Not at all,” Natasha chuckled lightly, running her palm along her bare spine. “The last mission I went on alone, I could barely sleep. It felt like a piece of me was missing.”

“Heading out in half an hour!”

The two women faced each other as Steve’s voice came through the door, playfully rolling their eyes and sharing knowing smiles as they begrudgingly climbed out of bed.

Unfortunately for them, they didn’t return to their room again until nearly midnight, midafternoon for you, after just barely escaping the base they infiltrated and making tons of detours to ensure they weren’t followed to the safe house. Once everyone’s injuries were tended to, Natasha and Wanda broke away to shower and collapse onto the bed once they were done.

“Tash,” Wanda began, lifting her head to reveal a concerned expression. “Printsessa didn’t text back. She didn’t even open the message.”

“What?” 

Natasha comes closer to take the phone, checking for herself and feeling a panic rise in her chest immediately. She quickly switched over the check the live camera footage, and a mix between fear and anger swirled around inside her when she didn’t spot you or Wesley in any of the rooms.

“Fuck!”

“Nat, what’s going on?” Clint questions as he stops in the doorway, noticing the tears beginning to spill down Wanda’s cheeks.

“Get in here and close the door. We have a problem.”

-

Tags: @littlegasps @natasha-danvers @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @nat-km-mh @buckmesidewaysandcallmesteve @cherrieloco @seventeen0 @creepingwolfberry @emilyprentisswife @bebe404 @becka107 @fayhar @messuhp @mjaudrey @sxphiaswitch @muted-stoneheart @its-a-long-way-to-ba-sing-se @wannabe-fic-reader @trikruismybitch @beforeoursecrets @cosmicbrownies7 @just-a-normalpersons @multi-images @want-to-watch-it-burn @stop-drop-and-drumroll @witchxaf @natashadeservedmore @haiiiloooe2 @darkangelxoxo @sakurat123 

[sxfik]

underneath the singing moon II

part I | part II

read on ao3 • main masterlist • law school masterlist

summary: what once was (and what could have been)

a story in two parts, from two people who watched as their life flowed past. a solhwi & jisolB fic

a/n: aaaaaaa okay wrote this part two as quick as i wrote the first one because i couldn't get it out of my head. i hope you guys enjoy this!!

The air rushed past him, as Han Joon Hwi looked out against the field, the sky bright yet dull all at once. He drove himself, all the way outside the city to the hill and clearing, the place where his uncle would take him every week for a picnic, once upon a time.

Despite the roads being endless and similar to each other, something deep within him could find its way back here no matter what. The path was etched into his soul, just like how his uncle's laughter was pressed into his mind. He could flip through every bend and every turn in his mind, and he was able to know just where he was on the route by the way the road felt, the way his car would jump over certain bumps.

He could remember the rides here, from when he was a child to when he was in high school. The wind would flow through the car, the windows down as his uncle would drive. The trip felt endless and short, all at once. He could feel the euphoria and tranquility, all at once.

As a child, he'd look out and watch as the wind would blow against the blades of grass, and enjoy the wind whipping against his face. As a teenager, he would lose himself in the quietness of the countryside, the peace of the vast green fields.

Yet as an adult, he found everything suffocating. He found the greens too bright, the sky boring into his soul, his skin, his heart. It was somehow too much for him, the memories of what once was and what could have been too much for his brain to handle.

The clearing was at a standstill somehow never changing despite everything. Time left this place untouched, the view just the same as it had been 20 years ago, the air just the same as it had been. As he looked out into the clearing, he could see the same view that he had shared with his uncle, before he had betrayed him, before he had lost everything.

Unknowingly, he had grown, his job wearing him down faster than he'd ever imagined. Despite the prosecutor's office being everything, and more, than he imagined. Despite his mind and body being built for the law, he was worn away. His shoulders held a weight to it, his face holding the stress and the exhaustion from lack of sleep. Lack of time.

It was always another case, another day of wondering if the people he was prosecuting were actually guilty or if he had indicted someone innocent.

Coming back to the clearing, the memories of who he used to be so evident in every inch of the field, every inch of the view, shocked him into a standstill. He could hear his breathing, the blood rushing and his heart pounding. All he could do was blink, as he looked out and the memories would flood through his mind.

Joon hwi was trapped, his body worn and in the future but his mind stuck in the past.

His uncle would joke that as a kid, Joon Hwi was the kind to sit in a corner, without ever making a fuss. I could set you down in a corner of the room, and you'd sit there and stare at the walls until someone picked you up.

It was true, even as he grew up, he wasn't the kind to intentionally cause chaos. His whole life, he could be described as almost neutral. His mind was rational to a fault, applying logic to every part of his life— even to the illogical ones.

He laughed slightly, the sound almost bitter.

For someone so rational, it didn't make sense how intensely and illogically he felt for one girl, Kang Sol. His Sol. She walked into his life, dragging chaos and uprooting any sense of peace he once had.

And he loved it. Joon hwi couldn't imagine not having her in his life, her not balancing his peace with her chaos.

There wasn't a way to describe what she meant to him, who she was to him. She was simply Kang Sol. But she was also so much more than that.

She was fire and passion, energetic and bubbly. Her smile was enough to spread a warmth through his chest, the affection almost choking and pouring out of him. His eyes felt magnetic to her movements, her happiness.

She was a bright girl, hardworking and endlessly loyal. She'd work to death for her friends and for her family and she was a bright flame that would burn no matter how strong the wind was.

He'd never felt so intensely, and he wanted to bottle it up and get drunk on it. It was euphoric, her presence brighting him up in ways he couldn't describe. He craved to learn more about her, know her mannerisms until he could recite them from memory. He needed to know her like the back of his hand, know her better than he knew himself.

But it was also painful, the joy turning poisonous and suffocating in his chest. Her presence in his life was an eternal reminder, a constant struggle between wanting to confess, to lay himself out for her and hiding everything away, just so he could have her for a little longer.

His mind would only torture him, his rationality remind him that he could never have her in the way he wanted to. He would never know the feeling of her hand clasped in his, the way she would look waking up next to him. He would never know how she looked in the early mornings, how she would look sprawled out in his bed. For all the things he knew about her, he had a million more he'd never know.

He looked down, the thick card stock foreign in his hands, as his eyes traced over the gold inscription.

You are cordially invited to the wedding of Kang Sol and ...

He shut his eyes, the tears building up behind his eyes as he looked across the field. His throat closed, and his breath shuddered into a shock as his hands tightened.

All of a sudden, the view shifted, the trees and the greens suddenly dull and almost devoid of color. The clearing was, suddenly, much older than he remembered, much older than he was, much older than he felt.

[achliegh]

Hey after the loops talker friendship post I now want the kink discussion and spicy team game pls

-your favourite problem child

Spicy Would You Rather

Heheheheh

I wrote a little micro fic a couple days ago before I started a flare up of my fibromyalgia

Character belong to @lumosinlove

The team was… tipsy at the very least. They were celebrating the start of the season at James and Lily’s because Harry was staying with James’ parents for the weekend. They planned for a few drinks and to watch some highlights of last season when Leo got the bright idea to have some drinking games because

“Drinking like old people is boring, I’m not getting drunk over some tape from last year.”

“We aren’t old, Peanut!” Logan frowns at him and Leo rolls his eyes.

“Whatever you say old man, anyway I vote we do something stupid so I can say my team is cool.” They all agree, except for Lily who would like to watch the drunken fun unfold. They play a could of truth or drink games that lets the team of the team know a little bit to much about everyones sex lives but, they count it as team bonding.

“Okay, I did not need to know that James calls Lily ‘Mommy’.” Sirius shivers and takes a sip of his drink and about spills it when James gives his arms a punch. Given his best friend a look of ‘shut the fuck up’. Rubbing his arm he can’t help but chuckle a little.

“How about some would you rather, playing these little kid games makes me want to go back to my middle school days.” Thomas sighs and leaned back on the couch in between Sirius and remus’ legs, letting them pull on his coils and let them go because it's great entertainment.

“I want to go first!” Kuny raises his hand and smiles his toothy smile and just about falls over backwards because he and Nado were pregaming before coming here, so they are a bit more gone than the rest. “You would rather-”

“It’s Would you rather.” Kuny narrows his eyes at Sunny and then continues.

“WOULD YOU RATHER!” Looking at his friend pointedly, “Drink water from a tap or water from a bottle the rest of your life?”

“Bottled, some tap water is terrible! Unless it's well water, I won’t drink tap water.” Remus pipes up. “Plus you can just chuck a water bottle in the fridge and then its cold, you can’t put a sink in the fridge.”

“But you can put the tap water into a pitcher, like a filtered pitcher, and put it in the fridge. I would rather drink tap, it would make it easier at restaurants.” Sirius adds on.

“I think bottles would be nicer because then you can take them on hikes and runs, and to the gym.” Finn earns himself a high five from Remus and they reach over Logan who is sitting on Finn.

“You can always put tap water in bottles though, so I would go tap.” Nado gives Sirius a thumbs up and crosses his legs as he leans back in his Harry sized chair. “Plus all the plastic from the water bottle companies like dasani and aquafina is so bad for the environment.” That earns a good amount of agreeing noises.

“Tap water for the win!” Kuny smiles and drinks the last of his drink, setting the glass down on the table where there are coasters but not enough so there are still water rings on the table that Dumo keeps wiping off.

“I have one,” Leo smiles after he pops his neck and rolls his shoulders from sitting hunched over most the right. He really needs to work on his posture. “This one is easy in my opinion. Watch hockey for the rest of your life, but never be able to play again… Or play hockey until you keel over but never be able to watch it again.”

“Play”

“Watch”

Dumo and Sergei give each other a bewildered look.

“WHAT!” They both screech at the same time.

“You would rather watch!” Sergei looks at Dumo like he is crazy.

“I want to watch my kids!”

“I want to play! I’d never get to coach my kids!”

I never said you couldn’t coach…” Leo pipes in and sips his drink while trying to hide his amusement of what's going on.

“Oh… I would rather watch then, I don’t think my joints would last that long.” Sergei relaxes back in his chair and the rest of the team just smile. Everyone else says their thoughts and they all go quiet with thinking.

“Would you rather have a praise kink or a degrading kink?” Lily asks as James is basically a cat in her lap.

“What's the difference?” Thomas asks as he yawns a tiny bit after finishing his drink.

“One is praise and one is degrading… How are they even similar?” Remus looks at him like he is stupid and thomas furrows his eyebrows.

“Okay yeah but they are both said in the same tone… so like what's the difference?”

“I- I don’t know how you think this is the same thing”

“What would you rather have?” Thomas turns around to look at Remus, then he looks at Sirius, who is smiling a bit like he is trying not to laugh. “Omg he has one… doesn’t he!” The entire team leans in a little as they wait for Sirius to spill. Sirius looks at Remus for permission and Re rolls his eyes.

“Get on with-”

“He has both!” Sirius blurts out and Thomas’ whole face lights up as he and a couple other people laugh. “It's great honestly, but it's best if you mix them together.”

“Oh my god! So you wouldn’t have been able to choose anyway!” Thomas snorts” SO if you mix them together does that mean you like being called like… Good Whore, and ummm what else is there, whatever just stuff like that!” Thomas holds his stomach as he laughs and Remus whacks him on the back of the head. “Ow! What was that for… omg wait I can call you names too!” He notices Sirius’ eyes narrow and he puts his hands up. “In a platonic way! I promise! I already have a sexy Canadian who can beat me up, I don’t want Re.” He sits for a moment and thinks up a stupid nickname. “Bestie Bitch… it's perfect!”

“No! I refuse!”

“Don’t worry Bestie Bitch! You’ll learn to like it.” He smiles and gets away before both Sirius and Remus whack him again. “LOVEEEEE YOUUUUU.”

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

Why do you think Tomarry would work? I see a lot of people hating on it and the only response I ever see is that they come from similar backgrounds or people just like enemies to lovers. Also which horcrux do you think Harry would go best with (including Voldemort)

So, this is probably a more complicated question than you intended, but that’s because I live in bizarre head canon lands that few ever dare venture towards.

With that, let’s get started.

But What Do You Really Ship, Muffin?

First, it probably bears saying that I’m not really a Tomarry shipper. I know, I’ve written more than one Tomarry story, so if that’s not Tomarry what is? Well, remember that those Tomarry pairing tags are a filthy lie. October I committed the grievous sin of breaking up the Tomarry and throwing Tom at Harry’s mother. Lily and the Art of Being Sisyphus is barely a Harry Potter fic in any capacity, and while the ship is the driving force of the fic, it’s also this nebulous, distant, thing that really shows up only in strange side stories where I try to make people laugh. When Harry Met Tom is probably the closest that I take seriously, but I also intentionally subvert all your typical Tomarry tropes for my own enjoyment. 

The only Tomarry story I’d say I’ve ever actually written is “The Burning Taste of Fire Whisky”. It’s a very popular story, sadly perhaps my most popular on Ao3, but I actually loathe it entirely. 

A lot of the time I feel like I just happen to have a Tomarry shirt on and then I suddenly became a subject matter expert. If you want the Tomarry opinions from real Tomarry people, I’m probably not the best person to ask. In fact, if you want really any standard answer about Harry Potter anything, I’m not the best person to ask.

Now, I’m not just saying this to be a hipster but to sort of give some background for why I’m going to give the answer I’m going to give and why it’s going to be 100% different from everyone else’s and yes, sometimes, I do think I came from Mars.

Will the Real Tomarry Please Stand Up?

So with that, the bottom line is: taking canon as JKR intended, completely at face value, Tomarry doesn’t work at all. This is because JKR fully intends a very flat, one-dimensional, and frankly quite boring Tom Riddle. Tom Riddle’s evil, Tom Riddle was born evil, Tom Riddle was evil in the womb because of rape. He is completely and utterly irredeemable and understands nothing of love.

Well, that sort of sinks the ship right out of the harbor, doesn’t it? A Tom Riddle incapable of love is one incapable of growth, especially in a romantic focused story. If you try to write it you just get weird sociopathic whump porn where Tom probably whips Harry in a closet somewhere.

Added onto this we get that, despite what she put down on paper, Harry is supposed to be a straight man. That aside, he’s also a righteous man whose understanding of things like love and friendship mean he’d never sully himself with gross Tom Riddle. Ew, what are you people thinking?

Well, what if we take canon just mostly as JKR intended? What if we just look at the characters the way she actually wrote them versus what she was trying to do? Still no dice.

Tom might now be capable of love, be a far more engaging character who can go somewhere, and be pulled out of a pit of rage and despair by someone but that someone ain’t Harry.

First, while I firmly believe Harry is gay (gay, not bisexual, compare his descriptions of Cho/Ginny to Tom Riddle/Sirius Balck/Cedric Diggory/Charlie Weasley, that boy pants after Tom Riddle and Cho’s kiss is “wet”) he’s also a much worse person and much dumber character than JKR intended. It’s really the first that damns the pairing.

I have a whole giant post on how Harry’s a little yikes but the long and short of it is that while Harry thinks he understands friendship and love he’s also someone who will cut out his friends at a moment’s notice if he feels remotely slighted, uses and sacrifices them for his own ends, gleefully uses unforgiveable curses when given the opportunity, and is the kind of guy who would cut someone up in the bathroom, leave them to bleed to death, and only really feel bad about it when it seems he might get in trouble for it.

This Harry ending up even with a Tom who could potentially be redeemed would more likely lead to, well, weird psychopathic whump porn where Harry tortures Tom in his basement to make him pay for all the horrible things he’s done while Harry claims he’s the most moral person ever because his mother loved him.

So, yeah, no Tomarry for you.

But Wait, Didn’t You Say You Believed in Tomarry?

What I believe in are archetypes.

Remove what Harry’s supposed to be, remove what I think he actually is (one maladjusted, violent, dude with a whole lot of anger issues), let’s make Harry what perhaps JKR didn’t even know she wanted: one of those rare fundamentally good heroes who warps an entire story with the strength of their inner nobility.

Harry Potter is meant to be a story about love and friendship. Now, it’s not actually, and we sort of end with Harry being Jesus and none of us are sure why. Except that he apparently forgives Dumbledore and Snape for brainwashing him to be a kamikaze agent. They’re the bravest men he knows. But let’s pretend it actually is a story about love and friendship.

To me, the strongest story of love we could possibly have had in this world is the redemption of Tom Riddle. Here is a man who was supposed to have been irredeemable since birth, he has done many horrific and unforgiveable things, grew up in extreme hardship in a society that spits on everything he ever was, and is mired in bitterness, despair, and rage. Beneath all that, Tom Riddle has given up hope in the world and is now content to burn it down himself.

Harry, through the nobility of his spirit and integrity of his character, somehow managing to redeem Tom Riddle is not only a fascinating story but a very good one at its core. The fact that they are tied together by destiny as well as tragedy, that Harry houses a shard of Tom’s soul (and I do so love horcruxes), only makes it more so.

This is the kind of story that carries epics, and that is why I gravitate towards it.

Now, do I change Harry up to do so? Good god, yes. I wouldn’t say any Harry Potter I have written is anything close to the Harry we know from canon. Some are closer than others, but they always in some way deviate. That said, from what I’ve seen almost nobody writes the actual Harry we remember from canon, so this is a very standard practice I can get away with, without too many people calling foul.

Ultimately ending in tragedy or in the full redemption of Tom: either works with these base characterizations and the world is your oyster.

What About All Those Other Arguments?

I’m not going to get into this too much except that I wouldn’t argue Tomarry works for the reasons you list. At all.

On the similar backgrounds, the fact is Harry and Tom don’t have similar backgrounds, JKR just says they do because she likes that trope (and so do many of the readers).

Harry and Tom have dark hair, they both came from abusive homes, but that’s where the similarities start and end. Upon entering the wizarding world Harry is treated very very very differently from Tom Riddle.

Harry, grows up in this weird sort of pseudo poverty where he dresses in rags because the Dursley’s hate him but he never actually has to worry about money. When he gets to the wizarding world he can afford everything he wants. He can buy a new wand, he can buy new supplies, he can buy all the candy off the trolly cart. Money’s not an object to Harry, is barely even a concept.

Tom Riddle is presumably on scholarship and money is everything to him. He buys a new wand but likely all his clothes and books are second hand. He can’t buy whatever candy he wants, probably can’t afford gifts for his peers, Tom is very aware of the haves and have nots.

Harry similarly never has to worry about a career. He never gets that far, fearing for his life so much, but the fact is that Harry has enough money that he doesn’t actually need to work. More, who would turn down the great Harry Potter? He wants to be an auror, is afraid he might not qualify, but it’s not really desperate.

Tom Riddle is to the world an impoverished muggle born. He tries for the Defense position and is turned down mostly because Dumbledore threw shade. Dumbledore tries to make it seem like Tom desperately wanted to work in this weird shop in London’s magical back alley, but probably that was the only position Tom could get (everything Dumbledore ever says, especially in those pensieve lessons, must be taken with a large grain of salt). Everything else goes to friends, family, and purebloods.

Adding to this, Harry has this glowing reputation. Now, Harry might not like it, he might want to be just Harry but the fact is that everyone has heard of him and most people worship the ground he walks on. Doors are open to him everywhere. His first introduction to the wizarding world is from a man who loves him and gushes about Harry as a baby.

Tom Riddle is someone with a muggle last name, who comes from a muggle orphanage, in other words he is nobody from nowhere. (For reasons I won’t get into here I find it very doubtful Tom ever revealed he was the heir of Slytherin until he became Voldemort and let Tom Riddle fade into obscurity). His first introduction to the wizarding world is some asshole lighting all his stuff on fire because the matron talked shit about him.

Harry wants to stay at Hogwarts because the Dursleys are abusive. Yes, this is terrible, but Tom wants to stay because Nazis are bombing London and Dippet says, “So sorry, Tom, no exceptions. Enjoy those luffas!” Harry’s concerns are never treated with the same disdain.

To make a long story short, they do not have similar backgrounds, at all. To say they do is utterly laughable and not much better than saying “they both have dark hair, they have so much in common!”

They both came from abusive homes, yes, but even the nature of those homes were very different and when they went to Hogwarts they were worlds apart.

... So much for not getting into it, eh?

As for Enemies to Lovers, well, it’s a trope and people enjoy it but it’s not my jam. I could go into why, but I think I’ve said enough.

Which Horcrux Do You Think Harry Would Go Best With?

We see so little of the individual horcruxes I’m not sure I can really take a stab at this. I sort of just make up their personalities as it suits me every time I write them.

With that I suppose I’m partial to the one in Harry’s head? Given that he has a front row seat to Harry, has seen Voldemort’s tragic demise, I think he’s in the best position to end up with Harry in a meaningful manner.

Especially as, if you think about it, he could represent the very last of Tom Riddle’s humanity. The single shard of humanity that remained in him until the bitter end.