#like half of these were drawn on my insta story

[gummidon]

Squid guards

[spookiekewchie]

On The Way...

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Characters: Ari Levinson x black!reader, Ransom Drysdale x black!reader

Summary: When Ransom acts up it's on Ari to come through and help you take your mind off it.

Word Count: 7.6k+ (don't judge me)

Warnings: general language warning, suggestive language, cheating (reader and Ransom cheat on each other), drinking, unprotected sex, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, hair pulling, choking, daddy kink (just the name used), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squirting, crying, cuckolding, creampie, cum eating, Ransom being an idiot, idiot ex girlfriends, mentions of jealousy, petnames (ari calls reader Tink as a nickname. for clarification it's more to do with the fact that he's bigger than her stature wise and can easily overpower her. the nickname does not imply petiteness in this instance.)

A/N:  All mistakes are mine so pardon any errors or typos I'm sure I missed a few. The divider is by @firefly-graphics.

DO NOT repost or translate my work anywhere. If you like it don't forget to reblog and share with others who might enjoy it as well.

You look at video playing on your phone, watching it for what seems like the tenth time in less than a minute. It ends and then you go back to watch it again, brows drawn together in angry confusion and hurt.

Tonight was supposed to be the night you and Ransom spent the evening in. It was all planned, he’d convinced you to cancel plans so he could have you all to himself. It was his fucking plan, order take out, curl up on the couch and watch movies before the two of your ultimately got distracted with each other. You even have the expensive bottle of wine he’d gotten you chilling in the refrigerator. All that and then an hour before he’s supposed to be at your place he’s calling and telling you that something came up with his family and he won’t be able to make it. You were disappointed but you weren’t the type to try and make a man choose between you and his family like that.

Only problem is that Ransom isn’t with his family, and you know he isn’t because the Insta story that you keep replaying shows him clearly in the club partying with his boys before some tramp straddles his lap and starts making out with him. You can even hear his friend cheering him on as the girl starts grinding (off beat you note) against him to the music. Ransom tries to hide his face from the camera when he realizes it’s on him, but even without the brief glimpse of him at the beginning of it you know it’s him. He’s wearing the fucking sweater that you gifted him on his birthday, and honestly who else do you and this particular friend of his know in common that’s going to wear a damn sweater in the club.

It gets worse though, because the girl in his lap trying to suck his face off isn’t just some random. It’s his fucking ex, and the one you can’t stand the most because she’s never respected your relationship with Ransom. You have half a mind to text Ransom and let him know exactly what you think of him right then and there, but instead you just save the video to your phone because you’ve got plans to shove the damn thing down Ransom’s throat the next time you see him.

Angrily you stomp to the kitchen, wrenching the door to the fridge open and pulling out that overpriced bottle of wine so you can get it open and pour yourself a glass. You need something to take the edge off, because if you don’t calm down you’re liable to pop up on Ransom and beat him and that bitch up. You’re better than that, so you drink instead and by the time you’re two and half glasses in you’ve had the bright idea to just get even.

Scrolling through your contacts brings up a list of options. There’s one name at the start that you linger over, but the last you checked he was out of town so you scroll right past it and to the next. Bucky? Nah he’s probably overseas again with his buddy Steve. A shame because you wouldn’t mind letting them double team you right about now. Carter? Hell no, he reminds you too much of Ransom. Colin? Maybe, he’s always been cool with no strings attached. But would he be down for a revenge fuck? You aren’t sure so you keep it pushing. You don’t even pause on Dayton’s name, you really don’t have the patience to listen to him talk about his car all night. There’s Frank, toxic ass Frank but he always brings the best weed when he rolls through. You don’t want to deal with him trying to pretend that he’s going to change for you though. You scroll past his contact. You’re considering Johnny when your phone rings, and the name that flashes across your screen has you pressing your thighs together.

“Hello?” You say into the phone after answering.

“Hey, Tink. You busy tonight?” You smirk at the nickname. Tink, short for Tinkerbell, and exclusively used by Ari who likes to remind you how he’s so much bigger than you. You roll your eyes, no one told him to walk around being a thick ass beefcake of a man, but you aren’t going to complain about that. Especially right now when the one man you really wanted to hit up is on your line like destiny herself is trying to make up for Ransom’s idiocy.

“No, why?” You question, taking a sip from your glass as you wait for his reply.

“I just landed, I was hoping I could see you. It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, come through. It’ll be good to catch up, I’ve missed you.” You tell him, and you swear you can hear him smirking on the other end of the phone.

“See you in an hour.” He says, and the two of you hang up.

The moment you hang up the phone you can’t resist letting out a laugh. You deserve this win, and it’s too perfect that Ari is the one that hit you up at such an opportune moment. The two of you have been friends for a while, and Ransom has never liked the man. You’ve never fucked, the timing’s always been off. Either he was out of town for work, or you were dating someone, or he was dating someone. The tension has always been there though, and Ransom isn’t wrong in his belief that Ari has just been waiting for his moment to make a move. Now the stars are aligning and Ransom’s own actions are what’s going to make the one thing he’s always worried about when it comes to Ari happen.

It’s more like an hour and half, and you getting through another glass and a half, before he arrives, but when he does you aren’t even upset about it. You stride to the door, clad in a crop top and a pair of shorts that show just enough cheek. Yeah you might have changed out of the oversized sweater and yoga pants you’d been wearing when you thought it was Ransom that was going to be coming over. And you know it doesn’t matter to Ari what you’re wearing, but it’s clear he appreciates the look. It’s already got his dick stirring and he quickly adjusts himself when you turn around to lead him inside. He watches your ass when you turn and walk ahead of him, teeth sinking into his bottom lip when he catches sight of your ass damn near hanging out of those tiny little shorts you’re wearing. “So where’s the pretty boy?” He questions, reminding himself that as far as he knows you aren’t single and he needs to keep himself in check.

You just shrug at the question, dropping down onto the sofa and scooping up your glass of wine to take a long sip. “With his dusty ass ex.” You answer simply, and Ari moves to sit a little closer next to you on the sofa than he needs too.

“What?” He asks, and you just grab your phone and show him the video. You watch his expression, the way his jaw sets and the muscle there tics. He’s not pleased to see someone embarrassing you like that. And because you just need to remind yourself why you’re about to give Ari the night of his life you watch the video again. Ari remembers all the times he wished you’d look at him the way that you looked at Ransom. Now he finds out the rich prick is out here trying to play you for a fool? Ari isn’t about to let this opportunity pass him up. “He’s an idiot.” He says simply, plucking the phone out of your hands and setting it on the coffee table. “And you don’t need to watch that more than I know you already have.” He tells you, leveling a knowing look at you when you scoff in faux disbelief that he knows you that well.

“How would you know?” You challenge, but it’s playful and you know Ari can read you like a book. It’s there in the glint of his blue eyes, he’s already figured out that you didn’t just invite him over to hang out. He watches you go to lift the wine glass to your lips again, and he pulls it away from your hand and drinks its contents himself before setting the empty glass down next to your phone.

“Tink, I know plenty about you. And right now what you need isn’t to watch that video, or the wine.” He moves to squat in front of you, sighing with a smirk on his plush lips. Two strong, calloused hands grip you by the thighs gently. His warmth seeps into your bare skin, and you suck in a breath when you feel his thumbs brushing little circles against your smooth skin. You can feel yourself clenching around nothing, and the flutter of anticipation that settles in your stomach nearly has you squirming.

“Oh yeah? Then what is it that I need?” Your voice is a little thicker with desire than you anticipate, and with the buzz of the alcohol in your veins you don’t care to try and play coy or shy right now. Right now you want this big fine man to spread you open and treat you so good that you damn near see God herself. You want to forget your own name, much less Ransom’s, and if the rumors you’ve heard about Ari are true then you know he’s just the man to do it.

As if he’s reading your mind he eases your thighs apart, and his grip tightens when he pulls you to the edge of the sofa. He settles on his knees, and takes in the way your breathing has picked up with the quick move he’s just made. “You need a distraction and some payback.” He answers simply, fingers crawling up to the waistband of your shorts. “Why else would you answer the door with this juicy ass hanging out your shorts and nothing underneath?” You suck in a breath, you didn’t think he’d clock you so soon, clearly that’s something that Ari finds amusing because he grins like the cat that caught the canary and chuckles at you. “What you thought I wouldn’t notice? Thought you knew me better than that, Tink.” He playfully chides you, and you just scrunch your nose up at him and do a poor job at hiding your smirk.

He gives you a chance to say no, and when you don’t he curls his fingers into the waistband of your little pair of shorts and tugs them down your legs. You’re already wet, folds glistening with your slick and the hungry way that Ari eyes your sex has you feeling like your warm all over. Your gazes are locked as he runs a hand up your calf slowly, he licks his lips, leaning in to press a kiss to the inside of your knee. The anticipation has your breath deepening, and your fingers curling against the edge of the sofa cushions. His beard scrapes softly against the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh as his lips trail higher, and he gets closer to where you need him most. The whimper that slips past your lips is involuntary when you feel his warm breath fanning over your hot sex, and you swear your clit throbs at the prospect of having his mouth on you.

“C’mon Ari, don’t make me beg.” You breathe, bottom lip catching between your teeth as you watch him. Ari chuckles, smirking up at you as he nips at your inner thigh.

“You’re lucky I’m feeling nice tonight.” He tells you, and before you can say something smart back the man is leaning in and hooking your legs over his broad shoulders. He doesn’t waste time, diving in and dragging a long slow stripe through your folds. He groans at your taste, tongue dragging against you for more. Your hand goes to his hair, carding through the dark locks and tangling your fingers in the lush locks.

You feel his big hands sliding up your sides, moving under your crop top to your breasts. You arch into his touch, keening when you feel his thumbs brushing over the hardened peaks. Ari pinches them between the pads of his thumbs and forefingers, tweaking them until you’re crying out and pulling on his hair. He growls against you, pressing forward until he’s pushing his tongue into you. “Fuck…” You swear his tongue is magic when it starts to press into you, and on instinct your legs twitch like they might close around his head. Ari is quick to keep them spread, groaning in satisfaction as the taste of you overwhelms him.

He lets himself get lost in the moment, the wet sounds of his tongue and the way he slurps up everything you give him echoing in your ears as he laps at you, and fucks his tongue as deeply as he can inside you. You can’t help but grind yourself against his face, the feeling on his nose bumping against your clit sending pleasure shooting through you. You aren’t even sure if he’s able to breathe with how he’s got his face buried between your thighs. The concern is brief before you remember that he’s a grown man, and if he chooses to suffocate in the pussy that it’s not your responsibility to stop him.

So you lay back and let his mouth do the work. Moaning, and grinding yourself against his face until he finally uses his strength to pin your hips back down. His tongue drags up to your clit, and your hips wiggle in his hold as you huff in frustration at how easily he can overpower you. You love it though, you always have and now that’s finally using that strength against you it has you dripping even more for him. You curse when you feel sucking on your clit, and when you feel two thick digits pushing into you. He curls them, searching out that sweet spot and focusing on it once he’s found it.

“Don’t stop...shit, don’t fucking stop…” You beg, clenching around his fingers each time you feel them pumping in and out of you. He’s got you so close to release that all it’ll take just a little more to push you over the edge. You give his hair another hard tug, back arching as you let out a needy whine.

“You gonna cum for me?” He teases, lips brushing over your clit as he speaks. Your eyes screw shut and nod when he flicks his tongue against the throbbing bud. You’re so close, you can feel the pressure building to a boiling point until the slightest nibble on your sensitive bud has you crying out. You’ve been so wound up since you watched that video of Ransom in the club that your climax hits you like a wave, washing away all that tension and leaving nothing but blissful pleasure in its wake. Ari grins against you, greedily lapping up your release like a starved man. When his tongue brushes over your clit again you press a hand against his forehead, trying to push him away only to have him pinch your hip while his other hand continues to slide his thick fingers in and out of you.

“F-fuck, Ari!” You whine out, eyes flying open to look down at him. There’s mischief lighting up his blue eyes, and before you can even think of telling him to give you a moment he’s sucking on your clit again and pumping his fingers faster. Your head hits the back of the sofa with a quiet thump, the sudden feeling of that overwhelming pressure building again. “Damn it, your mouth is too fucking good.” You groan, the heel of your foot digging into his back. You don’t try to fight the pleasure you’re feeling, letting Ari’s mouth and fingers coax you into another orgasm that sends electric pleasure shooting up your spine and has your toes curling. “Wait, wait. Ari, wait.” You pant, urging him up from between your legs. He let’s you, smirking and beard glistening with your juices. You bring him up to your lips, kissing him and moaning at the taste of yourself on his mouth. “I wanna feel you, please Ari. I need it.”

He presses his hips against you and you can feel the hard bulge that’s straining against the front of his jeans. It pushes against your thigh, and you clench around the fingers still inside you. His digits slowly drag back and forth, still stroking that sweet spot as he swallows your moans. God, he just wants to sink into you and feel how tight you squeeze around his cock but he also wants to take his time. “You sure? This pussy’s so tight I’m not sure she’ll be able to take me.” His confidence has you fluttering around his fingers, and moaning into his open mouth. You can feel that he’s big, and you grin against his lips.

“I’m so fucking sure, now stop fucking teasing me and split this pussy open.”

Ari nearly loses what little control he’s still holding onto when you say that. Patience is wearing thin, and when he pulls his fingers out of you, you think that maybe he’s going to fuck you right there on the sofa. Instead he hauls you into his arms and stands to his feet to carry you towards the bedroom. Your body is still humming with pleasure and alcohol as he moves the two of you through your place. Your lips find his neck, kissing and nipping at it with a low hum.

He walks a bit faster, needing to get you into bed so he can get out of his clothes quick because the way his cock is fighting against his jeans is almost painful now. “You’re such a goddamn tease.” He huffs, finally dropping you on the bed. Then he’s quick to start stripping out of his clothes.

You bite your lip, watching in breathless anticipation for Ari to finally show you what he’s working with. He pushes down his jeans, and then his underwear and finally you see what the hype is all about. Might need to start calling this man Captain Hook, you think to yourself as you eyes his cock bobbing heavily between his hips, crawling your way to the end of the bed. The moment he’s in reach you raise up on your knees, one hand pulling him into a kiss and the other wrapping around his thick length. He groans against your mouth, his big hands caging your hips and gripping you tight.

Pulling back you give Ari a wicked smirk, leaning back in to leave a slow trail of kisses down this neck and to his chest. He hisses and bucks into your hand when he feels your teeth biting into the muscle of his chest, he sighs a second later when your tongue soothes over the indented ring that your bite has left. God, you hope it bruises. Something about the thought of Ari wearing your marks makes you feral and you trail your lips lower before leaving another against his stomach.

Ari curses under his breath, watching you with a lust blown gaze as your mouth lands against the vein that runs down the front of his hip. You’re dangerously close to where he wants to feel your mouth. You grin up at him licking your lips before you leave another little love bite against his hip. Ari curses again, head thrown back before he lets out a little growl and glares down at you halfheartedly. You know what he wants, and you stroke your hand along his length before settling comfortably on your stomach. It puts you at the perfect height to have his dick right in your face and you take advantage of that fact. Tongue out you lick a slow stripe along the underside, swirling it over the swollen angry tip and catching the salty beads of precum that leak from it. Ari shudders, and you put him out of his misery when you wrap your lips around him and give him a few shallow sucks before pulling back so you can spit on his cock and use your hand to glide it over his length.

“Tink, you’re being a fuckin’ tease.” He growls between clenched teeth, and you just playfully wink at him before taking him into your mouth with a moan. You can feel the tension ease off of him as it’s replaced with pleasure, and like a gentleman Ari gather’s your curls up into one of his large hands so that they don’t impede your good work. He gives you shallow thrusts, letting your mouth take more and more of him until he’s nudging the back of your throat and threatening to trigger your gag reflex on his thick cock.

You don’t even care if he does, the wine has you feeling too good and you can’t stop yourself from bobbing your head back and forth along his dick. You’re too greedy to just stop there, so you push yourself past that reflex and that fat cock push into your throat as you gag around it. Ari’s grip on your hair gets tighter, and before he even knows what he’s doing he’s using the hold he has on your curls to guide you along. The sounds coming from him are like music to his ears, and you’re dripping. Just aching to feel his dick splitting you open around it. You get lost in your thoughts, a hand slipping under you to play between your legs while you suck on his cock. It’s sloppy, the loud shameless sounds of your slurping and choking on him fill the room. He knows he needs to pull you off of him and soon, because as good as your throat feels around him he doesn’t want to cum there. Ari wants every drop of his spend spilling out of your pussy, and only after he’s thoroughly beat it up. He owes you for all the times you’ve teased him, and all the times he’s had to be the bigger man and back off. There’s lost time to make up for and right now you’re being a cockhungry little demon and coming really close to fucking up his plans.

Reluctantly he pulls you off of his cock, shaking his head at you with a huffed curse on his lip as he moves to the side of the bed and gives your ass a hard slap. You jump with a moan and a laugh, stripping off your shirt to bare yourself completely to Ari. “Ouch! That hurt.” You tell him with a grin, drawing your knees up slightly under you so that you can give your ass a slow sway through the air. “Do it again, daddy.” You tease, and Ari’s cock damn near jumps when he hears you call him that. He gives your ass another slap before pushing you onto your back and moving himself between your thighs with surprisingly agile movements.

You can feel him pressing against you, his length trapped between your bodies making you give a needy whine. “Call me that again.” He demands, and the grin you give him is nothing short of cheeky.

“Make me.”

You should be worried by the look that Ari gives you when those two words leave your lips, but the buzz from the wine has you feeling too bold to care. Ari just smirks, lifting up just enough that he can grip his thick cock and line himself up with your sopping core. You feel him pressing at your entrance, and then with a sharp thrust he’s inside you and your vision whites out for a second. Ari lets out a hiss of pleasure but you can’t hear it with the way that the blood is rushing in your ears. The stretch is more than you anticipated, and while Ransom’s cock isn’t anything to laugh at, Ari’s got him beat when it comes to girth. The sting of it has your toes curling, and for a second you forget how to breathe until the sound of Ari’s voice finally breaks through and you hear him talking you through the simple act of inhaling and exhaling.

“That’s it, Tink. Breathe, I’m not even half way in yet, c’mon beautiful. In and out, that’s it...good girl.” He eases back slowly, making you suck in a breath at the drag of his cock against your walls. He’s so big, and you already feel so full and yet he’s saying that’s not even half of him? The question is answered when he snaps his hips forward and you feel what he means. There’s no keeping your moans quiet, head thrown back against the bed as your body squeezes tight around him and your nails rake down his back. “I know, I know it’s a lot.” He sounds so cocky and condescending as he says it, and that faux empathy just goes straight to your pussy and has you fluttering around him. “But you’re gonna take this dick.” He growls against your ear, finding his rhythm and that’s the moment that the fractured thought enters your mind that maybe teasing Ari wasn’t the smartest idea.

You’re caged under him, his thrusts keeping you filled and crying out for him as you grip against his muscled arms. Your nails leave angry, red, half moons pressed into his flesh, the bite of pain doesn’t deter him one bit and just adds fuel to the fire that you’ve lit. “God damnit, Tink. This pussy was made for me. She’s so fuckin’ tight around my cock…” He groans, one hand gripping your thigh hard enough to bruise and the other curling around your throat.

Your eyes fly open, Ransom’s never put his hand around your throat, and you’ve never thought to ask him to. Ari’s not even squeezing but you still clench so hard around him that his hips have to still for a second. He swears you’re going to be the death of him if you keep doing that, but that doesn’t stop him from adding just enough pressure on your throat to make you moan. “Fuck...harder...please” You beg, words broken up by moans as you try to speak. Ari, bites down on his bottom lip, fingers twitching around your throat while he continues to pump into you with steady thrusts hit all the right spots.

The pressure is maddening, and you know he’s got you shooting towards the edge of release again, and you’re chasing that high desperately. “Please, what?” He grunts, his next thrust coming harder and chasing the air from your lungs. “You know what I wanna hear.”

You don’t even have to think about it, the words leaving your lips faster than your mind can really process. “Please daddy…” You whine, knees digging into his sides as he changes the angle of his hips and starts to hit that sweet spot. His fingers tighten around your throat, and the thin wail of pleasure that’s coming from you goes choked and ruined. A good thing too, because you don’t need nosy neighbors calling the cops and having them trying to break down your door while Ari’s beating down your walls.

“Fuuuuuuck...cum for me, Tink. Make a mess on this dick.” He says, shuddering as pleasure shoots up his spine. Ari can feel his control waning as he holds off his own release, but he refuses to cum before you. Never mind the fact that’s already made you cum more than once already with his mouth and fingers. He needs you to cum again, and you do with a silent scream as your body tenses when you finally feel your climax take hold. It lights up every nerve in your body, and all you feel is blinding pleasure that quickly turns overwhelming as Ari’s thrusts start to sink into your harder as he chases his own high.

It only takes him a handful of thrusts before he’s burying himself inside you, the feeling of his spend flooding you making you shudder in pleasure. You lay there, basking in it as you lick your dry lips. Ari’s weight on top of you keeps you present in the moment, and you wonder what he’s up to when he doesn’t immediately pull out. As far as revenge fucks go, you’re happy, but if you know Ari you know he isn’t going to just up and leave after a quick fuck. “I hope you don’t think we’re done, Tink.” He tells you, confirming your suspicions before you feel him slowly moving his hips back and forth. Fuck. You think, realizing in an instant what he’s doing, the cheeky bastard is working himself again and your body is more than happy to help him. Your walls are still fluttering from your orgasm and it just serves to get him hard again faster. “Been waiting too long to fuck you to call it after just one round.”

You bite your lip, fighting the urge to let something smart pass them. You’ve done enough of that for one night, and you’re pretty sure your legs are already wobbly. “Ari, come on. You don’t have anything to prove.” You try, biting back a moan as he continues to move and his cock continues to harden inside you. He just nods along with what you’re saying, but that damn smirk is still firmly on his face. You open your mouth to say something else, but he silences you with a kiss as he presses you into the mattress under his weight until you're groaning and completely forgetting about whatever it is you were saying.

“Roll over.” He says simply once he pulls away, his cock sliding out of you, hard again and covered in a mixture of your releases. You just shake your head with a sly grin, rolling over to your front, a gasp rushes out of you when you feel his calloused hands yanking your hips into the air as he props you up on your knees. You think it’s impossible for him to turn you on any more than he already has, only for him to prove you wrong with such a simple action. He’s not even inside you yet but Ari has you gripping the covers in tights fists as you wait in anticipation for him to push that fat cock back into you. You want him to so badly, and you’re so caught up in the moment that you don’t even hear the sound of your front door opening. It’s no one but Ransom, he’s the only one with a key and if you could see him you’d know that he was looking around suspiciously after seeing Ari’s car in the driveway.

He has no idea where the two of you are until he hears you crying out from the bedroom. Ransom’s blood runs cold at the sound, and he rushes back towards your bedroom and doesn’t hesitate to nearly take the door off the hinges.

Ari looks up, and doesn’t even lose his stroke as he just grins at Ransom. “Hey pretty boy, you mind going to get us some water?” He asks, and Ransom is so stuck for a moment that he halfway turns to do just that before his mind catches up to what his eyes are seeing.

“What the fuck!” He’s livid, turning red in the face as he stands there watching Ari absolutely dig you out from the back. You look so absolutely fucked out that he’s torn between just letting it happen and trying to wrestle you away from the burly man.

“How’s your ex, Ran?” You question, managing to get the words out before Ari’s sinking so deep into you that you swear you can feel him in your stomach.

Ransom nearly deflates instantly. Part of him wants to be angry, but that question from you lets him know that he’s been caught in his lie and doing something she shouldn’t have been. He says nothing, glaring at Ari instead like he’s debating taking his chances in trying to fight the man. He knows better, but the temptation is still there, especially when he hears you begging for more.

“Right there, daddy. Fuuuck you’re so deep, don’t stop. Please don’t stop…” You shouldn’t sound so good to him right now, but you do and it’s having an unfortunate effect. His dick is a traitor he decides, feeling it starting to stir as the lewd scene plays out in front of him.

Ransom’s about to say something, but you manage to push your upper half up onto your elbows so you can look directly at him. “Did you fuck her?” You force the question out through clenched teeth, and Ransom knows better than to lie to you. It’s clear you already know the answer, or at the very least you’ve jumped to the correct conclusion. He did fuck his ex, but only after drinking a little too much and letting his friends hype him up. It hadn’t even been a satisfying fuck, and he hadn’t been able to finish, his dick going soft the second his ex’s obnoxious moans started giving him a headache.

She wasn’t you, she couldn’t even suck his dick the way you did. Complaining too much about how it hurt her throat if he tried to push into it. He’s fucked up and he knows it, especially when he knows how much you hate her. This is his karma he thinks, watching you and Ari go at it while he has no ground to stand on because he knows you wouldn’t be doing this if he had just came over like he promised and hadn’t let his boys talk him into skipping time with you to check out some new club. Ransom nods, answering your question silently and you want so badly to curse him out but you can’t even form words right now because Ari’s got you cumming again and you’re gushing for him.

Ransom just grinds out a curse between his teeth, and balls his fist up. Ari sees this, and cracks his neck before giving Ransom a look that’s just daring him to try it. “You cheated first, you can either leave and pout about what you’ve done.” Ari hits you with a particularly deep stroke that has you trying to pull your hips away from him. “Or you can sit there and watch me fuck her stupid, maybe if you’re good you can clean up after me.”

“Fuck.” You and Ransom say in unison, neither of you expecting that from Ari and you don’t know what comes over you but you can feel your cunt pulsing around Ari’s cock at the thought of it. Ransom knows he should absolutely hate the way that Ari’s speaking to him, but it strikes a chord in him that he didn’t know was there and before he can say ‘eat shit’ he realizes that he’s actually considering taking that punishment for his misbehavior.

“What’s it gonna be, Ran? Your stale pussy ex, or watching Ari ruin this tight pussy?”

Ransom backs away from the two of you, and you think he might leave but instead he drops into the armchair by the door. There’s no way he can go back to his ex, and he doesn’t want to break up with you. If this is his penance then he’ll pay it, even if the sound of your ass clapping against Ari’s hips will haunt his dreams for a while. What’s worse is that all this has him straining against his expensive trousers.

The moment his ass hits the chair, Ari’s reaching forward and grabbing you by the back of the neck to pin you down as he rails into you from behind. You thought he was too much before, but now it’s like there’s something feral about him and you’re trying to pull off of his cock just for a moment so you can try and get your bearings. Ari’s free hand gives your ass a thunderous slap, making you cry out and claw at the covers. “Now where do you think you’re goin’, Tink? Keep that ass right there, don’t you even think about runnin’ from this dick.” He tells you, and the sound of anguished pleasure that drags out of you has Ransom discreetly trying to reach for his zipper. He’s still pent up from not being able to bring himself to cum earlier, too caught up in you to find an old flame satisfying enough to get himself off.

You’re too far gone to notice, but Ari does and he cuts a hard look at Ransom who stills as if he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. Fuck. Why is he letting another man control him this damn much? He’s got no fucking clue but it’s clear that Ari’s got full control of the room. “Don’t even think about it, ya little prick. Think you had enough fun tonight and at her expense no less.” Ari’s words cut through him, and Ransom angrily sets his jaw and clenches his hands into fists on the arms of the chair. He doesn’t like agreeing with Ari, and there’s a part of him that wants to do it anyways but then he remembers that this is all his doing. His consequences for his actions, and he wishes that there wasn’t a part of him that enjoyed it.

“Ari, daddy, please. I can’t...fuck I can’t again…” Your whining has Ransom inhaling sharply, his gaze on you as your body jolts from every harsh thrust from Ari. He can hear how close you are to cumming again, and he knows you’re going to soak the sheets again. He bites back a few choice words, angry at himself because he knows how good you feel wrapped around his dick when he’s taking you apart and turning you into a babbling mess. The fact that it’s an experience that he now has to share with Ari makes him feel a whole host of conflicting emotions. The tears that are starting to escape you are no help either, and it’s just another thing that works against him.

Ari grins down at you, tossing his hair back out of his face as he chuckles. “I can feel you squeezin’ the life outta my dick." He tells you, the hand gripping your hip sliding around to settle between your legs. “You can give me another one, go on. Show pretty boy over there how much you love cryin’ and squirtin’ on this fat cock.” He tells you as the tip of his cock kisses your cervix with each thrust, his fingers begin strumming against your clit and you crash over the edge with a broken cry and a gush of your juices soaking your thighs and the sheets under you. Ransom nearly chokes on his tongue, the nickname from Ari, the sight of you cumming so hard that you’ve ruined the sheets, it’s all too much and it’s almost painful how hard he is right now. He thumps his head against the back of the armchair a couple of times, trying to drown out the sounds coming from you and Ari but it’s no use. Everything about this is overwhelming his senses. The smell of sex is heavy in the air that he can practically taste it and it has his mouth watering, he can hear the wet squelch that comes with every thrust of Ari’s cock into your dripping cunt, the sound of both of your pleasure echo too loudly in his ears, the sight of it is all he can focus on torn between watching how your face twists up in pleasure or the ripple of your ass each time Ari’s hips smacks into the back of your thighs. Even the bulge of the other man’s muscles has him on edge, and Ransom hates that he doesn’t hate it.

You let out a sob of pleasure, body trembling when you feel Ari’s fingers still working your clit while he fucks you until there’s not a thought in your head, and words are nothing more than babbling nonsense. He makes you cum again, another gush of your juices and you can’t even bring yourself to give more than the thin cry that manages to claw its way out of you. Ari let’s your body milk him for his spend, making sure he spills it nice and deep inside you. The feeling is almost soothing, and you mewl softly at the feeling. Ari gives you a moment, let’s you come down just a little before he’s slowly withdrawing and moving your pliant body until you’re sitting at the edge of the bed between his legs. He holds your thighs apart, and you know that Ransom can see how swollen and fucked out you look, but you hardly care as Ari’s spend starts to drip out of you. “What do you think, Tink? Was he good enough to at least get a taste before you send him back home?” You nod dumbly, at Ari’s question. Mind too frazzled to really think. “Well come on, pretty boy. Clean her up and then you can get out.”

Ransom can hardly move, his cock harder than it’s been in a long time and there’s a worry that just the rubbing of the fabric over his length will be enough to have him ruining a perfectly good pair of pants. It’s a fleeting worry, especially when faced with your spread open pussy and the expectation that he’s to get on his knees and lap up another man’s cum from you. He wants to say no, he wants to get up and storm out and say that he’s suffered enough...but he can’t. A bigger and stronger part of him wants to bury his face in your cunt and devour you, he doesn’t even care that he’ll have to eat Ari’s cum to do that. That part of him has him on his knees between your thighs, lapping and slurping at your used cunt. The combined tastes of you and Ari does something to him, and it makes him damn near ravenous. He wants to pull you closer, but something in the back of his mind says that Ari will probably not allow him to touch you more than he already is. Ransom can’t pin down why he cares or why he’s even doing this, but he takes solace in knowing that it’s him that’s making you moan and writhe now.

His tongue pushes into you, chasing more of the mess that Ari’s left behind and you jolt. A hand flying down to tangle in his perfectly styled hair, he doesn’t complain when you mess it up and pull at it. He just wants to make you feel good, wants to make you cum at least once before he leaves you and has to wonder if this will fix things or if you’ll call him up in the morning to tell him the two of you are done. He doesn’t want to think about that though, and he focuses on eating you out, and cleaning you up. He’s so focused that he doesn’t register the second, much larger hand pressing against the back of his head until he hears a rumbling “That’s it, get in there pretty boy.” From Ari. To Ransom’s surprise he doesn’t recoil away from the man’s touch, but he just tells himself that Ari isn’t what’s important. You are, and he knows that he has you close as his tongue buries itself inside your fluttering sex and his nose grinds against your swollen clit.

“Fuck, I know you’re tired but you got one more in you.” Ari whispers against the shell of your ear, and you want to tell you don’t but you can feel how close you are. “Come on, flood his face. Send him home covered in you so he doesn’t forget how badly he fucked up.” Ari’s words are the catalyst to the powder keg that Ransom’s mouth has set, and you’re trembling when you cum for the last time that night. Juices flooding his mouth as you soak him and your legs struggle in Ari’s strong grip. Ransom swallows you down before he pulls away from your cunt with his mouth dripping your essence. You lie still against Ari’s chest, your breathing coming in shallow pants as you try to settle yourself down.

Ransom looks like he wants to say something, but he just shakes his head and stands to his feet before he turns on his heel and rushes out of the room and towards the front door. There’s a lot he needs to grapple with and more that he’s confused about. You on the other hand are simply tired, in need of a bath, and a fresh set of sheets on your bed. All things things that Ari sees to happily, taking care of what you need before he finally settles you back in the bed. He’s prepared to leave as well, thinking you might want your space, but you surprise him when you mumble for him to stay the night in the bed with you.

It’s just another thing he’s all too happy to do for you.

[dallonwrites]

THE RABBIT KNOWS HOW TO BURY ITSELF 

I am so delighted to share my short story The Rabbit Knows How To Bury Itself, which was selected for the White Pube Writer’s Grant and published on their site! I haven’t known what to post on here for a long while, but I wanted to share this one because it was blogging about my messy first draft of Revelations, Revelations, that really got me back into writing and connected me with people who are now dear friends. I don’t plan to publish Revelations, Revelations anymore, so I’m super stoked to have a short story inspired by it featuring my favourite disaster twins out in the world! If you’ve followed the RR updates and have a v good memory, you may notice a lot of the lines from the OG draft were recycled into this story 👁️

I can’t thank Gabrielle and Zarina at The White Pube enough for believing in this story and selecting me for the grant this month. If you are a UK based writer/creative who would benefit from financial support, I totally recommend submitting some work! There’s no formal rejection process (I submitted in May and got selected in August) and the two were lovely to work with. And I def recommend checking out the other grant recipients because there are some super cool artists there!

Whilst I haven’t left Writeblr completely I don’t feel like it suits how I want to share my writing at the moment. I’ve been very slowly getting into Instagram and have started to post on there more, so if you want more consistent writing updates from me then you can follow my Insta @dallonwrites!! 

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content warnings for the story: drug use, pregnancy imagery, animal death, allusions to death, religious imagery, drowning imagery

[image descriptions: a series of photos and screenshots of writing. the first image is an excerpt: 

Her brother snorts cocaine in the bathtub, so she pretends he’s asleep. Arms over his chest, knees drawn, body curled. Brunette curls feather over closed eyes. Jacket for a pillow. In this reality, she’ll avoid the door only to not disturb him. He’ll be safe, half-wombed in porcelain, won’t hurt himself – and she won’t hurt him.

the second image is a cropped photo of an orange tree, with dark green leaves. the third image is another excerpt:   

This is how she knows him: he’s sixteen and doesn’t know how to hide the stench of cigarettes; he’s five and doesn’t know how to grip a pencil. He’s fifteen and can recite Revelation chapters with his eyes closed; he’s nine and terrified of the sheepdog. He was a better Christian than her because he knew how to worship, how to fear. But he still snuck out with her to read magazines about rockstars and horoscopes. Sometimes, after Church, they plucked clementines from trees and ate them out of their hands. Their first routine, first ritual.

the fourth image is a cropped photo of two hands against darkness, with a strip of light cast over them. the fifth image is another excerpt: 

Before the cocaine, he wanted to look at the stars. They’d grown up on farmland cratered in a pine forest, where the night sky was so clear, stars winked at them. At twenty-three, clouds and city polluted the sky. The moon filtered through like a car headlight. Streetlights and buildings constellated the city. The skyline jutted up and down, up and down like a heart monitor and he asked her, is this what being free looks like? Cold air prickled their skin. He gave her his jacket, she gave it back. She told him, you should get some sleep. He told her, I gave you my jacket because I love you. But isn’t loving someone, she almost asked, just your capacity to be hurt?

/end id]

[tomboyneedshercoffee]

Thin Ice Pt 3 || Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: The decathlon team gets snowed in and room 401 and 412 decide to play truth or dare. 

Word Count: 4.3k

Author’s note: Wowie this took a long time to write but I’m glad I finally finished it!! Hope everyone is safe and remember, if you need toilet paper, just use the shower to wipe your ass!

Warning: Swearing, teen drinking, mentions of sex, forced kiss kinda 

part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six || to be continued 

Cindy rummaged through her luggage as you mindlessly scrolled through Instagram, spamming through Flash’s insta-stories of the day. MJ laid down right beside you on the hotel bed, making a quick joke about how he probably buys his followers. 

You had all just eaten dinner and the chaperones had made their last rounds visiting rooms when the news of an incoming blizzard was heading straight towards the resort. It wasn’t meant to cause any damage but your whole trip itinerary would have to be pushed back a day or two depending on when the blizzard would stop.  

You were slightly glad that this storm had decided to roll through because that meant that when it cleared up, there would be hardly anyone on the slopes so you could snowboard without the fear of running into a child on skis. 

“ Found it! Who wants to go first?” Cindy asked as she pulled out her bag that was filled with various facemasks. 

You and MJ both looked up for a second before turning back to your phone screen unphased. 

“ I’ll pass. Last night you made me try it and I couldn’t wash off the pink tint. I looked like a freaking pokemon,” You shivered as MJ laughed beside you. 

Cindy got up from her spot on the floor and plopped down beside you, grabbing the phone away from your hands. 

You protested as she held the phone above her head, catching a glimpse of your case,” Seriously? A spiderman phone case? Are you and Flash a part of some creepy fangirl club?” 

MJ watched as you leaped up and snatched your phone from Cindy quickly, immediately turning it off in the process. You looked at the nightstand beside you as you laid back onto the bed, pointing to her phone that was charging. 

“ Oh so you rather me have a hello kitty one?” You teased as you lightly pushed Cindy away with your foot,” what are you twelve?” 

Cindy wasted no time and grabbed your foot and pulled you off the bed, causing you to let out a yelp. You landed on your butt as MJ peeked over the bed to make sure you were okay. Once she saw that you were fine, she just shook her head at the two of you and laid back on the bed. 

“ Hello Kitty is for all ages thank you very much,” Cindy defended as she sat down on the bed and held up a blue container,” Come on MJ. This is a collagen one from Korea and you know us Asians have great skin.” 

MJ rolled her eyes at Cindy but sat up from her spot,” Fine, as long as Y/N does it too.” 

After a minute of whining, you and MJ both found yourself sitting upright with a scented sheet mask covering your face. You continued to scroll through Instagram when Betty entered the room holding the ice bucket to her chest. 

“ Guess who I just ran into?” Betty asked excitedly as you all perked up,” and might I say, a girl might be catching feelings.”

“ What? Are you talking about Mr. Harrington?” Cindy laughed as Betty put down the ice bucket and stuck her tongue out in disgust. 

“ Gross! I mean I did see Mr. Harrington going to the jacuzzi but I’m talking about Ned! Since the chaperones already checked the rooms for lights out, he’s thinking we can all hang out in our room!” 

“ Who’s we?” MJ asked as Betty started to clean up her clothes from off the floor. 

“ Everyone in his room so Flash, Brad, Peter, and obviously Ned. What else are we gonna do all night?” Betty asked as you pointed to your face. 

“ Um hello? Facemasks and talking shit all night sounds like the perfect plan to me,” You shrugged as you turned on your phone and looked through your messages,” plus what if we get in trouble? You know Mr. Harrington will have an aneurysm if he finds four boys and four girls in one room.”  

You were already in a weird spot with Brad since this afternoon and you knew that he was the type to hold grudges. You couldn’t imagine being in a room with him and all his attitude but at the same time, you wanted to hang out with Peter. 

Betty zipped up her luggage and put it in the corner next to the other mini-fridge,” Y/N, I know you didn’t go but we almost died on our last two trips. Considering all that happened, I think us watching a movie and playing charades with a bunch of science nerds will be harmless.” 

Sometimes you envied how everyone seemed to bond over the last two trips for the decathlon team but then you remembered the falling elevator story at the Washington Monument and the droid attack at the Tower Bridge in London. While no one died, you were glad you weren’t apart of that “bonding experience” and you knew if you wanted to bond with people, you would stick to just trust falls exercises. 

“ In that case, I call dibs on Flash!” Cindy shouted as she raised her hand promptly, earning a confused look from everyone in the room,” What? Have you seen his house? Securing Flash means securing his bank account and I’m trying to financially invest in my future.” 

“ Then I call Brad!” Betty raised her hand but lowered it when she made eye contact with you,” wait nevermind. I forgot about how close you and Brad are.” 

“ First off, it’s 2020, we’re not claiming anyone,” you said as Betty rolled her eyes,” secondly, you can have him. I’m not interested in him or any guy right now.

It was half true. You couldn’t care less about Brad going out with someone, even if it was one of your best friends and the idea of you and Brad together made you feel so uncomfortable. 

You didn’t really have a crush on anyone but there was something about Peter that made you drawn to him. You didn’t know if that meant you had a crush or not but when the idea of him coming into your room and seeing you in a face mask in your pajamas made you feel embarrassed.  

Before Betty could confront you with your lie,  you all turned your heads when you heard a knock at the door. 

Your heart stopped and now you weren’t sure if you were more nervous to see Peter or Brad. 

Betty calmly made her way over to the door even though you knew she was a nervous wreck on the inside. Once you heard the boys start to come in, you took off your facemask and rubbed in whatever moisturizing element it had left. 

MJ had done the same but instead of throwing hers away, she made it into a soggy ball and threw it at Flash, who shrieked in disgust. 

“ Did we miss the sexy pillow fight?” Brad asked as he smiled at you, almost like he hadn’t gotten mad earlier. 

You decided to let whatever happened this morning slide but once you caught eyes with Peter, you felt anxious. 

“ Hey, we’re twinning!” You said as you pointed to your Harry Potter pajama shorts and Peter’s sweatpants to try and calm your nerves,” I never pegged you as a Gryfindor Pete.”

Peter looked down at his pants and chuckled lightly,” I never thought I was either.”

 He wasn’t going to lie, he wore those on purpose cause MJ had texted him that you had a similar pair in your luggage and he liked the idea of you two matching. 

“ Is that alcohol? How did you sneak that onto the trip?” Cindy asked as she grabbed the bottle from Flash’s hands,” We could get in so much trouble.”

“ Only if we get caught,” Flash said as he opened up his backpack and brought out plastic cups. 

He passed one around to Ned and Betty but when he came to Peter, he just stopped and scoffed,” Are you sure you can handle your liquor? The girls probably have some apple juice in the fridge for you to drink.”

Truth be told, Peter couldn’t handle his liquor at all but that was before he had powers. Now, he could forever say goodbye to hangovers and embarrassing drunk encounters. 

It wasn’t like he was a big drinker pre or even post-spider bite but his body operated differently than a regular teenager so instead of passing out after two shots of Remy Martin, he could easily call himself a heavyweight. 

“ I think I’ll be okay,” Peter said plainly as he practically ripped the stack of plastic cups out of Flash’s hand causing Flash to flinch. 

Peter passed one to you as you hesitantly took it from his hands. You were second-guessing everything and you weren’t sure if it was the paranoia of getting caught or the mix of alcohol amongst the group. 

Brad watched you from his seat on the ground and shook his head, letting out a tsk from his lips,” You’re not fooling anyone Y/N, you don’t drink.” 

The hell was that supposed to mean? 

Brad knew you all too well, you almost made it through high school without drinking (with the exception of your aunt’s wedding where they served champagne) and you didn’t want to ruin your streak now. 

At the same time, peer pressure was real and while no one was asking you to drink, you still felt like you almost had to. 

You shrugged and handed out your cup to Cindy so she could pour some of the Smirnoff into it,” There’s a first time for everything I guess.” 

Everyone took a seat on the ground in a circle, with Peter on your left and MJ on your right. Brad and Betty both made a toast and before you knew it, you took a sharp sip of your drink and coughed after you swallowed it. 

“ Yeah, okay that freaking sucks,” You cringed as you put your cup down beside you.

You felt better knowing that Flash and Betty both had the same reaction but you were a bit surprised how easily Peter took down the shot. Peter noticed you from the corner of his eye and pretended to shudder, even though it almost tasted like water to him.

After about a half an hour of mingling and drinking amongst yourselves, you could already feel the alcohol running through your system. You didn’t feel nauseous but if someone had asked you to spin around in a circle, it wouldn’t end pretty. 

You watched from your spot on the office chair as Brad made his way over to you, smiling wide. 

Here he goes, you thought as he sat down on the desk and looked down at you. 

“Y/N, you look mad.”

“ I’m chill but clearly something upset you this morning,” You said as Brad shrugged plainly and took another sip,” what’s been up with you? You’ve been dodging me all day.” 

From the outside, Brad looked fine like any other tipsy teenager but you knew better. There was something behind his eyes and you could literally see the gears spinning in his mind. 

“ I can’t be protective of you?” He asked as you responded with a confused mm as you took another small sip of your drink,” obviously I’m talking about you know who.”

You watched Brad’s gaze fall over to Peter, who was sitting on the bed beside MJ and Cindy deep in a conversation. You rolled your eyes and you gave Brad an unconvinced look. 

You were many things but being someone who needs protection was definitely not one of them. You knew Brad long enough to know that he had never cared about any guy being around you but for some reason, he was so threatened by Peter. 

You knew if you said it out loud, Brad would just get madder like earlier but deep down, you knew he was jealous. What made you even more upset was that this jealousy practically came out of nowhere and you and Peter only started to hang out just this morning. 

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or your pure frustration alone but once you opened your mouth, any chance of having a PC filter was gone,“ You don’t have to worry about Peter, he’s a good guy. I like him so do me a favor and stay in your lane.”

Before Brad even had the chance to reply, Flash grabbed the bottle off the dresser and sat down in the center of the hotel floor. 

“ Lets play something cause I’m bored as hell. How about a friendly game of spin the bottle?” Flash suggested as everyone was adamant on playing something else,” you guys are so lame, would you rather play truth or dare?” 

MJ poured herself another small amount and handed the bottle to Ned, who immediately passed the bottle away from him. 

“ That’s so cliche,” MJ groaned as she looked down at her cup before taking it all down,” but I’m in. If you don’t want to answer or do the dare, you gotta take a shot no matter what.”

You shifted in your seat and mentally cursed. You hated truth or dare and frankly, it was the dumbest game to suggest especially since you knew that most of the group wouldn’t be down to do a dare that was too risky. 

On the other hand, you were the type to always pick truth because you rather let people know your deep dark secrets than lick a toilet seat. 

After a few rounds of Flash running through the hallway in just his underwear and of MJ switching clothes with Brad, it was Betty’s turn to pick who was next. 

“ Okay, my turn... Ned,” Betty said, catching Ned off guard,” Truth or dare?”

Ned looked around and shrugged, looking visibly uncomfortable,” Truth I guess.”

“ Do you want to get back together with me?” 

You were the only one to gasp and you covered your mouth in shock when you realized no one else had the same reaction,” Sorry I- you guys dated? Since when?” 

“ Oh right I forgot to tell you, we were a couple during the Europe trip but it ended when the trip did. You really missed a lot,” Betty explained as she moved her attention back to Ned, waiting for a response. 

Ned looked at Peter who only nudged him back in response which made the situation even more awkward. Instead of answering the question, Ned took down his shot like a champ and shook his head,” I’m not falling for that one.” 

The room busted out in ooos as Betty’s face grew red. She quickly composed herself and poured herself another drink,” Your turn then.” 

Ned looked at Peter as if he was asking for permission but Peter shook his head. Peter knew Ned wanted to be a good wingman but Ned tended to take the title too seriously and go overboard. 

“ Okay then I’ll pick Peter,” Ned said as Peter’s hands started to feel even more sweaty than before,” Truth or Dare.”

If it was anyone else asking Peter, he could easily choose Truth and move on with the game but because Ned was in control and knew too much about his crush on you, he was worried that something would slip. 

“ D-Dare,” Peter stuttered as he cleared his throat, his eyes locked on Ned as if he was pleading to have a normal dare that didn’t involve you. 

Ned smiled and looked over in your direction as his plan started to come together. 

“ I dare you to kiss the prettiest girl in the room.”

The room grew silent for only a moment before it bursted out in mixed conversations. All eyes were on Peter and he could feel how hot his ears were burning from embarrassment. 

Peter tried to play it off and lifted his cup in the air,” I’m definitely not doing that.” 

Cindy groaned from her seat and sat up on her knees,” Come on Peter, it’s just a kiss. It’s not like it’s your virginity or anything.”

“Cindy!” Betty smacked Cindy’s thigh sharply as if she was a child acting up in a grocery store. 

“ Ow! I didn’t even say anything bad,” Cindy rubbed her thigh but glanced over at Peter,” I’m sorry but even if you are a virgin, that’s not a bad thing!” 

You and Betty both gave Cindy a ‘Stop Talking’ look and you turned to Peter, his face flushed by now. 

“ If he doesn’t want to do it, he shouldn’t be forced to,” Flash said as he leaned over and poured a shot out for Peter,” but just for the record, he totally would’ve kissed Y/N.”

“ N-No I wouldn’t!” Peter stammered, feeling completely mortified. 

“ You hear that Y/N,” Brad smirked as he looked between you and Peter,” Peter doesn’t think you’re pretty. I on the other hand-”

“ That’s not true!” Peter shouted over Brad as he turned to you sympathetically,” Y/N I-I do think you’re pretty!” 

“ Um, thanks Peter, you too,” you said simply as you tried to catch up to the conversation. 

If you could be honest, you felt like you were on a five-second lag thanks to how much you had been drinking and you weren’t processing what everyone was saying as well as you should’ve. You weren’t really paying any attention to the conversation until you heard the word virginity and your name. What you did notice the whole night was Brad’s small attempts to get you a bit annoyed while flirting at the same time.

Since you two had been friends for so long, you knew how he operated and whenever Brad liked someone, he would always make little jabs as if girls fell for that kind of stuff. You needed to get him alone to set him straight because you didn’t want to ruin your friendship over his small crush on you. 

You shook your head at Brad as he watched you pour yourself another shot that was almost triple of what you took earlier. 

“ What were you saying Brad? About Y/N?” Cindy asked as you looked over to Brad who only shrugged. 

“ Nothing I was just going to ask Y/N truth or dare,” Brad said as Ned shook his head. 

“ No it’s Peter’s turn, those are the rules remember?” Ned insisted as he gave Peter a quick look. 

Peter had nothing against Brad but Peter wasn’t stupid or blind either. He clearly had feelings and wasn’t going to waste any time going in for the kill. If it was any other guy then maybe Peter had a chance but Brad Davis? Not only did Brad have an advantage since you two were friends for so long but Brad was practically a clone of you. 

You both had similar interests, identical backstories, and the same sense of humor so of course Peter felt threatened. 

What was worse was that Peter could tell that Brad knew about Peter’s feelings for you so now, it was almost a competition for Brad. 

“ Oh come on, he doesn’t mind,” Brad laughed as he looked at Peter and tilted his head to the side,” do you Pete?” 

Peter only nodded as Peter took his shot and crossed his arms over his chest. You weren’t sure why you were feeling particularly bold today but when Brad asked you truth or dare, you chose dare. 

“ I dare you to do seven minutes in heaven with me in the restroom.”

You leaned back onto your hands and tilted your head to the side. If it were any other day, you would’ve passed on the offer but this was just a game to Brad. He knew you would say no and that would prompt Brad to make even more jabs towards you for being a prude. 

“ Okay Davis, I’ll bite,” You grabbed your cup and drank the whole thing before handing it to Peter,” see you guys on the other side.” 

You got up from your seat as Brad followed you closely,” Don’t wait up guys.” 

Peter clenched his jaw as Brad gave a thumbs up to Flash who was whooping in celebration. 

Once the bathroom door had shut, Flash nudged Betty and stuck his tongue out,“ They’re gonna get down and dirty-”

“ Shut the hell up, Flash!” Peter didn’t even realize he had said it out loud until he noticed that everyone was staring at him. 

Peter’s face flushed a deep red and sighed deeply before grabbing his phone and got up from his seat,” It’s late. I’m going to bed.” 

Everyone watched as Peter practically stomped out of the room and was fuming from head to toe. 

Once you were in the bathroom, you sat up on the counter and looked up at Brad, who just locked the door. 

“ I know what you’re doing Brad,” You said as Brad leaned against the counter next to you,” you’ve done this move before on Katelyn Gomez at the homecoming after-party. I’m not stupid.”

Brad smiled innocently as he ran his fingers through his hair,” I have no idea what you’re talking about. Can’t I just have some quiet time with my girl?”

You let out a dry laugh and shook your head, you really couldn’t believe what was happening. You heard the main hotel room door slam shut which made you turn your head to the door. You didn’t hear anything follow up so you turned your attention back to Brad. 

“ That’s my point, I’m not your girl,” You motioned between the two of you with your hand,” this is not a thing and will never be a thing.”

Brad acted shocked and placed a hand over his heart as if he was in pain,” Why do you love breaking my heart?” 

“ You’re my best friend Brad which is why this can never happen. I mean come on, my mom used to bathe us in the same tub when we were younger!” You exclaimed as Brad shooed your hand away. 

“ Okay fine, we have history but there’s nothing wrong with that. I’m not asking you to marry me I’m just asking for a chance,” Brad sighed as he moved over and leaned closer to you,” are you really saying that you don’t have feelings for me?”

You looked down at Brad’s hand and back up to his face. Brad looked at you longingly with puppy dog eyes but you were smart and you knew better than to fall for it. 

“ I have feelings for you... but not the kind you have for me. I love you Brad but as a friend. I trust you more than anyone else I know and I like being a part of your life,” You watched as Brad nodded softly,” our friendship is so important to me and I don’t want to ruin it.” 

For the first time ever, it was like you had left Brad speechless. You could tell how hurt he was and it made your heartache. Brad was never someone to take things so seriously, especially if it was with a girl. Brad could be rude at times and a little too sarcastic for your liking but so were you. 

“ I’m sorry,” you said, trying to interrupt the silence between the two of you. 

Brad shook his head and bit his lip, a habit that he had been doing since he was six whenever he was nervous,” You don’t have to apologize. I’ve been a dick to you lately and I’m sorry...Can I ask you for something? It’s okay if you say no.”

You nodded and squeezed Brad’s hand,” Yeah, anything.”

“ I know you want us to be friends and I respect that but...do you think I could kiss you?”

You tensed up as you shifted against the counter,” I don’t know Brad..”

“ I’m not asking to make out, I’m just asking for a quick peck on the cheek,” Brad stammered as you nervously bit the inside of your cheek,” pretty please?” 

You thought things over in your head but all you could think about was Peter. What would he say if he found out? You shook your head and tried to get Peter out of your head, why would Peter care? Better yet, why were you thinking of Peter right now?

“ Okay, but only if it’s a cheek kiss.”

“ Deal...okay can you close your eyes?” Brad asked as you rolled your eyes but did so anyone. 

You sat there with your eyes closed and shook your head,” You’re so weird Davis.”

After a few seconds, you felt Brad move off the counter and scooted between your legs. You felt him place his hands next to your thighs and leaned closer to you,” Ready?”

“ Whatever man just do it. God this is so weird,” you mumbled as you heard Brad count down from 5 to 1. 

When he got to you, you expected to feel his lips press up against yours but when you felt his lips against yours, you opened your eyes in shock and pushed him away with your hands. 

“ What the hell Brad! You said it was a cheek kiss!” You shouted as you wiped your lips with the back of your hand. 

“ I-I’m sorry” Brad backed away from you and rushed for the door handle,” I’m going to go.” 

Brad didn’t even look at you as walked out of the door, leaving you alone in the bathroom. You couldn’t believe your best friend just kissed you and you were somewhat thankful you felt nothing but disgust from it. 

Peter. You rubbed the sides of your temple in frustration as you thought of what would happen if Peter found out. Your heart sunk as you thought of why you didn’t want Peter to know what had happened between you and Brad. 

Damn it, you had a crush on Peter. And you were pretty sure he felt the same way. 

@holland-in-disguise @yeahimcrying @greatpizzascissorstaco @mysticalbanshee @weyheyavengers @infinityflamesworld  @fandom-fangirl22    @peterparkoure @crumpets-are-better-with-jam​

[fishoutofcamelot]

I'd like to preface this by saying that I love your blog and all the analysis that you've done on various characters, scenes and ships. You are one of my online heroes. I'm not sure if you're still doing the ship asks, but if you are, what are your thoughts on frelin?

Dude tysm! I’m not sure ‘online hero’ is a great way to describe someone who once made a post comparing dragonlords to furries, but I’ll take the compliment nonetheless!! Your kind words have given me enough dopamine to last until my next paycheck <3

Freylin is a decent ship - conceptually. They're two kindred spirits who found solace and intimacy with each other, drawn together by their mutual sense of otherness (possessing magic). However, I think Freylin does fall into some obvious trappings of Insta-Love, Heteronormativity, and Not Giving Female Love Interests Any Discernible Personality Traits.

For some people, that's not a problem. They like watching Merlin and Freya be cute and sappy with each other, and I'll agree that it was a treat to see such a fun side of Merlin. If that's the kinda ship you like, then great! Ship away. But personally, Freylin makes me feel bad for Freya. 

Not because of the death thing - lord knows I've done far worse to beloved characters without even a hint of remorse. But I feel bad for her because of her role in the ship. As mentioned above, her main purpose in the narrative and in Merlin's life is to give him some angst, then come back later in season 3 to give him some helpful advice as a sort of Freya Ex Machina. Her personality has no depth beyond what was necessary for the story. And even in fanon interpretations of her, she's essentially just a more shy/introverted carbon-copy of Gwen. 

And, okay, as a writer I can admit that there are some characters who don't need a lot of depth. Some characters are plot devices, and that's okay. Freya only appears in like two episodes, so under normal circumstances I'd begrudge that level of shallow characterization. But the rules are different for characters who have a close emotional connection with the MC, especially love interests - even episodic dalliances like Freya! 

Take Balinor, Will, and Daegal, for example. They were all important to Merlin, and all had distinct personalities. Balinor is cantankerous and reclusive. Will is pragmatic and confrontational. Daegal is earnest and youthfully naive. And we as the audience liked them too, because they felt like actual people, even though their main purpose in the story is mainly to serve Merlin's arc. They are, fundamentally, plot devices, but they don’t feel like plot devices because of how organically they’ve been written. 

Freya is a harder sell, because she doesn't have as much of a personality with which to endear us. I'm not saying we need to know Freya's favourite colour and her fondest childhood memory, nor do we need to witness her go through a seasons-long character arc. Not every background character needs their personality painstakingly detailed, least of all background characters. If well-written main characters are chicago deep-dish pizzas, then well-written background characters are hot pockets - easy to make, easy to love, easy to remember. Characters like Gilli and Elena and the love of my life Sophia are good hot pockets. But Freya as she currently is, she's not even that. She's like if we were told there was a hot pocket in the microwave, only to open it up and find it's just a lump of half-melted cheese. 

And it's sad, because Freya had the potential to be interesting. She could've had a distinct personality that made us fall in love with her right alongside Merlin - which would have made her death even more painful for both the characters and the audience alike. But even if you don't give her a personality, at the very least let her fulfill her purpose of furthering Merlin's character arc instead of just making him sad for a few minutes. 

While I'm by no means an expert writer, here's how I would've taken a crack at having Freya’s impact on Merlin's arc. 

So Merlin sees Freya again, but she's not some helpful water spirit. She's emotional and volatile and vengeful and deeply, profoundly traumatized by the nature of her death. And maybe it's his job to finally lay her soul to rest once and for all.

She gets upset at Merlin. She cries and shouts and weeps about her death, about the pain and injustice of it. How could he continue protecting her killer? How could he befriend the man who literally murdered her? Freya didn't want to die, she didn't want to be a monster, she didn't want to be alone (cue implications that she has been trapped inside the lake all this time, maddened by isolation). She just wanted to be left in peace. To be loved. Merlin naturally defends Arthur, saying that he is destined to be a good king, destined to free magic and bring about the golden age of Albion. But she insists that destiny must be wrong, because what has Arthur done for the magic community besides perpetuate his father's company line? He killed her, killed several others like her, and even to this day he condones the oppression of their people - what makes him think a man like that could ever change, could ever set them free? And even if he does, why should any of them be expected to forgive him for his war crimes? 

She tells him that deep down, Merlin knows this. Deep down, Merlin fears Arthur just as much as the rest of them. If he truly believed in Arthur's inherent goodness, in his destiny, then Merlin would not have kept his magic hidden for so long. 

Thus sparks a seed of doubt in Merlin's mind, and scenes like Morgana's speech in Tears Of Uther Pendragon Part 2, Arthur's drive to destroy the dragon egg in Aithusa, Kara's execution in Drawing in the Dark, and the confession in Herald of a New Age would only cause that seed to grow. 

Not only is this a natural and logical progression of his character, but it would also be compelling to see Merlin's unwavering loyalty to Arthur do exactly that - waver. It grants depth to his character, empathizes us to his cause and the cause of his people, and lets us see Merlin in a unique perspective. It also puts a new light on Arthur's actions, foreshadowing an eventual moment of reckoning where Arthur will have to face the consequences of his harmful rhetoric - thereby creating a subtle layer of tension as we wait for that moment to finally arrive. And there's yet another layer of tension that arises from Merlin's repressed yet growing doubts: will he finally admit that Arthur isn't the shining saviour Kilgharrah had promised he'd be? Will he snap like Freya did? Will he and Arthur drift apart? And if they do, what will bring them back together, if such a thing is even possible? How will they make amends? How will Arthur learn from his mistakes and earn back Merlin’s trust?

I could go on and on about how this would impact the story as a whole, but I'm not here to talk about my rewrite ideas. I'm here to talk about Freylin.

At the end of the day, while it's a good ship, Freya doesn't have much personality, which affects their overall chemistry, and I don't think they have enough going on between them to be an endgame pairing. My personal opinion is that Freya has less narrative potential as a romantic partner, and more narrative potential as a supplementary background character whose closeness to Merlin combined with her own trauma forces him to develop and grow in certain ways. She's less of a Gwen (long-standing love interest), and more of a Balinor (one-off character with emotional importance), and that's perfectly fine. But because of her lack of personality and overall narrative relevance, I have a hard time believing or shipping Freylin beyond the scope of her debut episode.

Thanks for the ask! <3

[krokonoko]

the heart wants what it wants. and as much as I love my angst, sometimes I need me some freaky shit like,,, Lacho AUs in which the cartel is not a factor and Lalo and Nacho are just. REGULAR ASS BOYFRIENDS.

LOTS of assorted headcanons under the cut!

shield thine eyes, there’s some heavy ass fluff incoming.

Lalo has his own little restaurant. No one knows how it stays afloat with the erratic way Lalo’s leading it, but it seems his family’s somehow just absolutely loaded, so he can afford it. Honestly sometimes it feels like he just uses it to fuck around with new recipes. Like there’s no real rhyme or reason to what he’s doing, but everyone loves his food, he’s really good with the patrons and if he parties the whole night through then it doesn’t matter cuz the next morning the kitchen still looks spick and span and Lalo’s awake and chipper, ready for the next day! How does he do it? No one knows, especially not his staff. But when someone asks, he just laughs it off and changes the subject and oh my god he’s so charming how could anyone resist him? -

Lalo’s still on the antisocial spectrum and manic af in this AU, so his approach to relationships and emotions is a bit different than your neurotypical one. He seems to have a penchant for breaking rules, can be manipulative at times, and certain things don’t affect him the way you’d expect. But most of the time you wouldn’t even know, cuz generally he’s a really affable guy who’s a lot of fun to be around. He’s genuinely trying not to step on anyone’s toes. That being said, you don’t like him then yeah, he don’t give two shits. -

Nacho used to be part of some gang, but got out in time. He now studies business or something like that. He’s super ambitious and keeps badgering his papá about investing into technical improvements that would make his shop more effective and streamlined. Manuel gets heart burn every time Nacho runs the numbers by him. He’s been running the shop for longer than Nacho is alive, he’s not gonna contract new debts after it took him so long to pay everything off...! And Nacho insists that’s how business WORKS, it’s all about investment and growth. Manuel says with a smile that when the shop is Nacho’s, he can stuff it with all the novelty apparatuses that he wants, but he’ll have to wait until Manuel is no more, and Nacho is like papá don’t be so overdramatic...!! And Manuel laughs and pats Nacho’s back because actually he’s really proud of his son and the fact that he’s so concerned with the shop and they’re HAPPY GODDAMMIT -

For some reason this AU doubles as a modern AU as well. Which means smartphones exist. Nacho spends. SO much time on Instagram. Photos of his car. Photos of Nacho leaning against his car. Gym selfies. All over the damn place. And Lalo doesn’t understand insta cuz he’s a tech averse king, but he still secretly checks out Nacho’s blog all the time cuz yummy! Sometimes he comments on Nacho’s posts with a bunch of. really weird emojis, half of which don’t mean what Lalo thinks they mean, and Nacho thinks it’s cringe af. -

They’ve been having this thing going on for about a year and they’re both suuuper casual about it, like, SO casual, especially Nacho, wow he is so incredibly low key about this, like he is not too all over this or anything, just the right amount of relaxed, laid back, so cool, yeah. -

Just that Lalo is actually incredibly flirty all the time and courts the hell out of Nacho, he’s almost a bit gentleman-like about it, almost a bit old-school, and Nacho thinks that’s kinda dope and the way Lalo treats him like he’s the sexiest thing on earth sometimes comes across as a little condescending but there’s something about it, too, that makes Nacho sometimes lie awake at night thinking about it, brushing his thumb over his lower lip and thinking about the way Lalo pulls him in for kisses. -

When Lalo picks Nacho up from the gym, Nacho smiles when he sees him. When Lalo cracks a crude joke about making people swallow condoms, Nacho chuckles. When Lalo makes him food, Nacho enjoys it. When they walk along the sidewalk in the evening, Nacho casually bumps into Lalo and Lalo puts an arm around Nacho. When Lalo is close, Nacho feels comfortable, and warm, and drawn to him. -

Nacho has had a couple of girl- and boyfriends, but he’s only ever introduced Manuel to his girlfriends. Manuel’s known that Nacho’s into boys ever since he came home early to teenage Nacho and Domingo sitting on the living room couch 6 ft apart with their shirts rumpled and their faces red as beet. But Nacho didn’t seem to want to talk about it, so Manuel respected that. He’s a bit concerned cuz he’s afraid Nacho feels like he can’t talk to him, but he wouldn’t wanna push him. -

So all of Lalo’s attempts to meet papá Varga have been met by Nacho with stone-walling and general avoidance. -

But Lalo’s a very family oriented person so he just decides to make it a surprise dinner! At first Manuel is a bit wary cuz alright, what’s going on, who is this guy? But then Lalo turns up the charm and he’s just one of these guys who are absolutely stellar at wooing older ppl. So he keeps charming circles around Manuel with food and jokes, and Manuel kinda starting to like this guy, and when Manuel wants to get himself some more beer- nonono you stay put Sr. Varga, I’m gonna take care of this for you - and then they get to the part of the evening where Manuel tells childhood stories about Nacho like how he cried when he lost his first tooth and Lalo is just ab-so-lute-ly ENTHRALLED by it all and before you know it he and Manuel are BFF. -

all the while Nacho just. SEETHES in his corner. -

Manuel leaves and Lalo and Nacho start cleaning up the kitchen, and they’re very quiet until Nacho just goes “are you going to tell me what the hell all that was about?” and Lalo’s like “???” and Nacho’s just. “That little sing-and-dance you just did there? Like. What’s your end-game here. If this was some kind of attempt to get to me through my, dad, to, idk, somehow get emotional leverage over me, istg...!” And Lalo’s gets honestly serious and looks and Nacho all earnest-like... “man... is it really that hard to believe that it’s important to me that your dad likes me...?” and then he goes “you know what, Ignacio, you seem upset. Why don’t you just go home and leave the kitchen to me, yeah?” and so Nacho does, and he’s really angry at Lalo, and he doesn’t really get what just happened there. -

a couple days later his dad calls him and Nacho is kinda concerned but Manuel doesn’t pick up on it, he’s just like “Mijo, I just. Wanted to say how important that was to me, to meet your boyfriend, he’s a really nice y-...nice man.” (Nacho notices the gap where the “young” should have been lmao) and actually Manuel is trying to be like “Mijo, I am supportive of you please notice that I am trying to tell you that I think this is super okay!” but Nacho is so busy being confused cuz he’s never referred to Lalo as his boyfriend in his head even though they’ve been at this for over a year. So Nacho’s kinda monosyllabic and like “so. he didn’t upset you or anything?” and Manuel’s like “noo, he was really friendly. You didn’t give him a hard time, did you, Ignacio...??” Manuel gets all stern and fatherly...!! “Let me tell you one thing. Not a single one of your girlfriends has ever been this polite or interested in me. This man, he’s being serious about you. Maybe it’s time to stop being cautious.” -

and that’s when it starts to dawn on Nacho that that’s. Honestly all there is to it. Lalo wasn’t trying to manipulate him or whatever. He honestly just noticed that Manuel is an important part of Nacho’s life, and wanted to connect with that. And that is- actually. really sweet of him, what the fuck?!? -

Nacho lays awake again that night and notices that there’s something going on in his chest, like something big and warm blooming there and oh my fucking god you can’t be SERIOUS this is RIDICULOUS he’s way too old for this shit, AND way too worldly-wise and all that! -

So Nacho drives by Lalo’s place the other day and asks him whether he wants to go for a drink and so they go to a bar and sit there in silence for a moment until Nacho goes “my dad asked about you” and Lalo chuckles and is like “yeah? at least someone who misses me!” and Nacho rolls his eyes but he’s kinda got it coming now. Anyway, so, Nacho starts explaining that his dad is the most important person in his life, and he is soft and sweet and precious and a national treasure that must be protected at all costs and if someone was to hurt him and all that jazz. And Lalo’s like, yeah, no, I get it. Family is everything. And your dad is a really cool guy.  The problem is that for Nacho, it’s just been him and Manuel against the world for so long, he’s gotten kinda prickly about letting anyone else get close to his dad. But maybe this is good, and maybe, oh god he doesn’t really wanna think about it in that much detail, but like, Lalo gets it, and they leave the bar together and Lalo immediately gets out his phone and calls Manuel like “Sr. Varga, I’ve been wondering how you’ve been doing! What, Nachito? He’s doing fine. No, nooo, he’s not been mean at all. Couldn’t if he tried. Well, I hope you have a great evening. Yeah, talk to you soon!” and Lalo’s just absolutely obnoxious about this, winking at Nacho and everything and Nacho sighs and accepts his punishment. (Later Lalo’s gonna be like “of course you were right, I did have ulterior motives. I was just trying to butter you up for the dinner I have planned with my uncle Hector!” and Lalo keeps talking about how much he loves his tio and how he’s basically a father figure to him and such a great guy. But then they meet him and Lalo only introduces Nacho as “a friend”, and Hector is this grumpy old guy who hates absolutely everyone and everything, can’t go two sentences without being racist, sexist or homophobic. And Nacho’s like aaalright, guess I gotta deal with THIS now. But they don’t meet him that often so it’s alright.) -

OH but Manuel is still a BIT conservative about SOME things?? Like, he’s fine with Nacho having a boyfriend, but does he have to be so. you know. old...? Like. He’s not your sugar daddy, right Ignacio...? You’re not expecting him to keep you, right Ignacio...??? And Nacho is kinda pissy because UHM?? the implications?? He would never?? He’s nobody’s trophy boyfriend. He does like getting paraded around like one every now and then but he’s not. He buys his own damn stuff. But yeah sorry Nacho, that’s just how parents are sometimes lmao -

ANYWAY the point is, they. They care. Nacho cares Lalo. And seeks out his company on his own accord without any outside influences forcing him to. And Lalo cares Nacho. And they kinda start to accept that this is. a thing. And Nacho learns to accept that he can let himself feel save and comfortable around Lalo. And they’re just regular ass boyfriends. Who go on vacation together. Who have just fantastic sex without any coercion or backstabbing involved. Who fall asleep on the couch watching movies together. Who celebrate each other’s birthdays. All that freaky shit!!! 😭😭😭

[brightbeautifulthings]

The Listeners by Christopher Pike

"'But no love is ever lost. How is it possible? Does death destroy it? There is no death. The form may change but the essence is never lost. Can any wave, no matter how big, leave the ocean depleted?'"

Year Read: 2021

Rating: 3/5

About: FBI agent David Conner is on the verge of early retirement when his boss pulls him back into the field to investigate a New Age channeling group called The Listeners. They claim to use group meditation to revisit past lives, but they also have inexplicable access to classified FBI information. Dave is skeptical until a demonstration challenges that perception, and the more he learns about the group's history, the more he fears for their safety. Wisdom isn't all that waits for them in the past, and they may be on the verge of unleashing an ancient evil on humanity. Spoilers are under the cut. Trigger warnings: death (on page), child/twin death, suicide, cannibalism, implied torture, graphic violence, blood, sexual harassment, fat-shaming. Some NSFW content.

Thoughts: It was extremely fun to read this with Roberta at Offbeat YA, since we're both diehard Pike fans and it's one of few neither of us had ever read before. All in all, I enjoyed The Listeners because I like Pike's writing style. There are a number of cool ideas in this book, many of which will feel familiar to his dedicated readers: The Big Mind sounds like an iteration of The Big Person from Strange Girl, and the Setians make another appearance in the second half of The Last Vampire series. Pike is fond of his evil reptilian races, which makes me wonder if the Setians turn up in any of his other novels by name and also whether he was bitten by an iguana or something as a child.

Despite my enjoyment, which is pretty much always the case with a Pike novel, there's no denying that objectively this book is a bit of a wreck. The second chapter is a sixty-page history lesson on the main character, which throws off the pace and structure of the whole novel. The main takeaway is that Dirty Dave has some blood on his hands and a lifetime's worth of guilt over the women he couldn't save, but this all could have been streamlined in brief flashbacks rather than presented as an awkward, continuous chunk.

The characters are hit and miss. Thanks to all his backstory, we have a strong understanding of Dave and his motivations, and his arc is easily the strongest in the novel. Lucy's isn't bad either, although I wish we'd had more page-time with her and her identical twin sister, Vera. (Pike kind of treats them as interchangeable, which isn't very cool or good for the story.) I'm also fond of Margaret, who fills a familiar role in Pike's novels, but more on that after the spoilers. Spear turns out to be a rather flat antagonist, and the rest of the characters are basically there for body count for all that we learn of them.

Things are far more interesting when we get into the group's history and channeling practices. It's an interesting concept, and the execution there isn't bad. It's especially good when we get to meet the novel's major villains, since the Setians are frankly terrifying. Pike excels at writing nonhuman monsters that are both scary and otherworldly, and I was riveted whenever they were on the page. In terms of tropes, there's blatant insta-love and an almost literal deus ex machina. While that's keeping in character and matches similar ideas from other Pike novels, I can see why readers found it frustrating. Still, the novel has some fun ideas and well-drawn monsters in it, and that's usually enough for me. If I were going to recommend one of Pike's adult thrillers though, The Blind Mirror is just as bonkers and better executed.

SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS. TURN BACK BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE.

Readers familiar with Pike's work will probably see Margaret's role in the novel coming from a mile away, although after reading The Blind Mirror's rather grim ending, I had my doubts about things turning out well for these characters. I like the way it ends up though. Whenever Pike introduces his evil reptilian races (Setians or otherwise), there's usually a race of advanced ("blue") beings to counter them. Like Mr. Grey of the Thirst series or the man guarding the ice cream truck in Black Blood, the characters have a little bit of divine help when they need it, and Margaret slips easily into that role. She doesn't defeat the evil or solve every problem; oftentimes, these characters don't even save lives because there are bigger things at stake. While I don't appreciate the Lucy/Vera body swap, it was nice to see a relatively happy ending, even if it does feel a bit like Pike backed his characters into such a tight corner that only The Big Mind could get them out.

[elizabethsharmon]

Now that s5 has ended what do you think about it? I remember seeing you be quite vocal about the season and then you just stopped and I was just wondering what your general opinion is. Did the fandom scare you away? :(

hey there! I kind of stopped being so loud about the show here cause at some point I just gave up about s5 and don’t worry, it would take a lot for fandom to scare me away and i’ll be back with my usual bullshit in 2 weeks with s6 clip by clip reactions ✌️ anyway, i was going through my archive while writing this to remind myself of what happened in each clip and what were mine and fandom’s reactions to it and somehow when I started writing this, it turned out I can’t stop and it got quite long so I'mputting it under read more:

So first of all may I just say that the trailer/firstclip was one of my favourite clips of all times. It was just SO GOOD and to meit was like a dream come true cause I was talking about dropping a clip andstarting a season on New Year since July AND THEY DID IT AND IT WAS E P I C,such a power move, I love it. Honestly everything worked there, the music wasamazing, it was so wonderful to see both squads partying together, it wasperfect, 11/10.

Then the season started and I absolutely loved thefirst two episodes, we really started to get into Arthur's head, to get to knowhim and his family, find out how insecure he is and how well he's hidingeverything from others, and Arthur and Alexia clips!!!! They worked so welltogether and were so cute and supportive, I said it back then that if they ruinthem I will never forgive them for that because what was the point of makingthem a couple in the first place?? I still don't understand that, I don't thinkI ever will... Fast forward to the first Wednesday of the season aka underwatermale gaze aka the moment I knew we're in for a ride and it won't be a goodone... When the clip started I was over the moon, I'm a swimming hoe myself andI loved that they used the pool for actual swimming, the cinematography wasbeautiful and I loved that they found a way to incorporate Lisa into the story.That was until Arthur dived and saw Noee... and sadly, this was the firstmoment I emotionally yeeted out from the season. Don't even get me started howwrong it was - 1. using the pool which is a sacred place in the show’smythology; 2. using piano music; 3. peak male gaze, objectifying Noee, andArthur staring at her even though HE HAD A GIRLFRIEND; they were setting it upas a love triangle from the beginning and after those 10+ weeks I still havethe same question about it as I had back then: why. It was also the first timefandom started to be hostile and the shipping war began, some people werecoming to my and my friends' inboxes, sending us anons to stop thinking theworse about Arthur, that love triangle will definitely not happen and thatDavid explained on his insta that they used the setting of pool in another waythan it was used in og s3... Well, jokes on you cause we were right. Anyway thatWednesday clip was to me the first red flag of the season, the first momentwhen some people started attacking others, when the fandom police started formingand suddenly you couldn't say anything because someone would jump on you andsend hate.

But I decided to let it slide, hoping that they reallywouldn't go there (spoiler alert: they did) and then we got Friday clips withelu housewarming (i'm still emo!!!) and Arthur losing his hearing permanently.It was absolutely heartbreaking to find out he lost hearing in his left ear 2years ago, it was a real game changer back then and suddenly everything changed- why he was looking at Alexia so intently, why he didn't cover his left ear atnye party, etc. I absolutely LOVED the way they handled the topic at thebeginning with Jerome explaining everything to Arthur and to us and I LOVED thepositive discourse it started within the fandom with deaf/hoh people teachingothers and explaining things without getting mad at silly questions - tbh to meit was one of the best parts of the first half of the season and I'm reallygrateful for it ❤️

Sunday clips with gang were one of my favourite in theseason, I think Arthur took us all by surprise when he went to elu's flat totell the guys that he can't hear and they were chaotic and supporting andamazing and wow, I really don't understand what the fuck happened and wherethey disappeared in the second half of the season. I loved that they hinted aturbex king Eliott and I kinda feel like that might come back in s6....... butanyway. The 7 amclips were absolutely one of the highlights of the season. They helped to buildsome sort of routine and Robin absolutely nailed them, I could feel howpowerless and more frustrated he was feeling AND I also felt betrayed that wedidn't get one on Thursday and Friday. Even though after the first pool clip Iwas dreading every single next clip there, I really liked that they were showingus that Arthur goes there every Wednesday, it really helped to get inside hishead and to understand him more and I kinda wish they hadn't stopped thatbecause it would be a really power move to keep showing that. Alexia in episode2 was just WOW, i can't believe there were people who were saying she andArthur don't have chemistry or that he should break up with her because she'snot supportive - well, she proved you all wrong. Too bad Arthur was too dumband self-absorbed to appreciate that.

BASILE/ARTHUR FRIENDSHIP. All their clips were solovely and heartwarming, I loved how different Basile was in Arthur's pov toBasile we knew at the beginning of s3; when he didn't want to leave Arthuruntil he said back that he loves him :'))) wholesome. I kinda wish we got tosee more of those two, they're definitely hanging out just the two of them andthat's what was lacking for me, those 3 or so clips of just the two of thembeing wholesome buddies were great but they were not enough.

The party clip on Thursday of ep2 was great, I lovedhow they're giving us little insights of deaf/hoh community and showing usArthur getting drawn to it. I wish that it wasn't overshadowed by love triangleand we got more of it, but I'll be back to it later...

Now, episode 3 and 4 were strong in the term of clipsbut those two weeks were incredibly boring when you were watching it in realtime. The breaks were too long, there were three clipless days each episodewith hardly any social media update and at times it made me forget about theshow completely. The bar clip in ep3 was great until they started sayingproblematic shit and tbh I was really starting to stress over Eliott then -first we got a hint that housewarming party was canceled because he wasn't feelingwell, now over a week later he's not feeling well again and Lucas' "he'smy boyfriend and i love him" was very cute and I loved it but it alsostarted to lead to misery porn and this dread didn't leave me until the end ofthe season and I'm still worried that it will play a part in s6 and it won't behandled well (disclaimer: this is not about the fact that they're talking aboutEliott's MI, it's about how Lucas started to act like a martyr and the way theystarted to show him acting almost like Lucille).

Episode 3 was also the time when I think it becameobvious that Arthur's short outburst of communication was gone and we'll haveto deal with next few weeks of miscommunication, sulking and hiding. Beginningof ep4 was another moment for me when I wanted to escape from this seasonbecause of the fandom police - they created as hostile atmosphere for the fanswatching in real time as druck stans did during s3, when you couldn't commentanything or say anything without other people jumping on you, calling you outand hating you, that for a moment again I was ready to give up on the show. Ireally wish I had done it.

As much as I liked stupid gang content in thecafeteria the whole clip was kinda odd and the 1,5 days break between the clipand laser tag was too much. I feel like the pacing in episode 4 really didn'twork in their favour and the clips could've been placed in another order sothat the breaks weren't so long. The laser tag was such a strong clip withbeautiful cinematography and colouring and it showed us Arthur's problems withsensory overload and again - I wish we could find out more about it because inthe end the clip was too short and cut abruptly only for Arthur to go to Noeeto see her dance in a scene that was pure male gaze, where the camera lingeredon her flat, bare stomach, a few times showing close up of her boobs. And yes.I am aware sing language is a bodily language. But the thing is that itcould've been shown differently, without so many objectifying shots, with Noeewearing different clothes, without Arthur staring at her with his jaw dropped.Arthur who - may i remind you - had a girlfriend at that time. I can watchgore, I can watch open surgeries, I can watch blood, and fight, and beating,and all that without the blink of the eye. i could barely watch the clip ofNoee dancing. I've never felt so sick after watching something in my life, Ihad to go offline for a few hours cause I was feeling so unwell. This was sucha fucked up scene to film in such a way, to objectify her, to use male gaze, touse piano music, slow motion, man looking at her in a predatory way, and thisscene was so wrong on so many levels itself but when you add to it the factthat Alexia NEVER got scenes like that and all her dancing scenes showed her basicallyas a quirky friend having fun at parties. And that's disgusting.

But let's move on to episode 5. I loved all the scenesin the asso, I loved that they showed Arthur actually going to LSF classes, Iloved how he confronted his father about it later. Though episode 5 was alsothe start of the boy squad becoming brainless idiots, lying to his friend,plotting behind his back, going to a concert without him. Episode of beautifulcinematography and skating scene that I watched trying not to think about thefact that Arthur is basically having a date with another girl while hisgirlfriend is studying for her bac, of an oblivious guy not wanting to stop itbefore it's too late and everyone's hearts will be broken.... I loved that hesnapped at the guys in the detention clip. I liked the following clip withAlexia, when they made her talk about her insecurities, showed us how strongshe is but also how fragile she is at the same time. But that Sunday of episode6 was the moment I ultimately realized I don't care any more about this season.It was already ruined for me. Alexia opening up, Alexia asking Arthur aboutNoee and him saying the worst ableist shit ever, Arthur breaking Noee'sheart... Those three clips made me realize that for me it's too late, thedamage is done, and I won't be able to enjoy this season for real. Alexia wasbound to get her heart broken, I was pitying Noee because it wasn't her fault aguy she had a crush on kept on leading her for weeks, and Arthur... I dislikedhim more and more and I just wanted it to be over.

I loved all clips with Laura and Melchior, the playfuldynamic in their interactions with Arthur was one of the best things of theseason and I can't stop but think that we could've had the same thing but withArthur, Noee, and Camille. Meanwhile Noee was reduced to manic pixie dreamgirl, a homewrecker, a plot device, and Camille was there only to translate(and later to be Mika's boyfriend). I really liked the clip with Noee andArthur reading her letter about cochlear implant, it was very informative andit was the kind of content I really wanted to see in this season. The onlything I hated about it - which was a recurring theme in clips with Noee... - isthat Arthur kept forgetting about Alexia and this was so unfair to her.

Now. The Valentine's Day. I loved the sourd datingclip, again, it was something that I wanted to see in the season and it was avery strong clip. But then the rest of the episode... I really wish it didn'texist. Jumping to the pool in clothes???? Arthur sharing his deepest trauma andNoee kissing him??? NOEE AND ARTHUR SHIPPERS JUMPING ON PEOPLE SAYING THAT SHEDID IT TO COMFORT HIM???? Sorry guys, I don't know about you but when myfriends are sharing something traumatizing to me I hug them or hold their hand,I don't kiss them with tongue. Also using a flashback??? It doesn’t go wellwith the show’s format, why was it even used???

Episode 8 was... Episode 8 was wild. And weird. Andstrange. And I don't really know what was the point of it. But despiteeverything crackfic farm au was at least entertaining and it was kind ofsomething we needed then after weeks of will they/won't they and hating Arthur.Whipped elu was everything, the fifi saga was hilarious and I rewatched itaround 50 times and it still makes me laugh - Maxence nailed it but ?? what wasthe point? they killed Eliott's bunny so that he would become vegetarian? Theywanted to traumatize him and cause him to have an episode that was cut in theend? (I really wouldn't be surprised, there are 2 clips missing from firstepisodes each, and probably more in the others). I really don't know what wasthe point. The 6h15 or sth clip was funny but if Lucas and Arthur hugging itout cause sorry bro / it's okay bro / bro / bro is what they're considering aproper apology then I'm sorry but it isn't. What's more, the pacing of thisepisode was incredibly off and the clips didn't add up and there wasn't anynatural flow to it - they should've madetwo clips on Sunday - with Arthur getting to the van and them arriving to thecountryside, two clips on Monday with 6 am and then Daphne and Basile, Fifitrilogy on Tuesday and then right after midnight on Wednesday Arthur and Alexiain the barn. Now, the cheating excusing convo... I was absolutelydisgusted by the boy squad and the fact that YANN who was cheated on in s1advised Arthur to not say anything... wow. Also I really don't like what Eliottsaid there, I understood it in that moment that he was mainly talking from aphilosophical pov that humans are never satisfied in general, but he was sayingthat during the cheating convo, right after he said that he cheated on his gfto get with his bf, he said it while Lucas was right there, knowing that he hasdeeply rooted abandonment issues and this is what made the situation worse. Ithink I'll talk more about the fandom reaction and team's comments later causethere will be a lot to unpack there so yeah, I'll leave it for now.

Because now let's move on to February 21, aka theFriday that changed everything. Can I just say that I have never seen a worseclip ever in my life? That wasn't skam. That was soap opera. And not even agood one. I can't even comprehend how they wrote THIS and thought it was good.I despise the choice of making Noee speak out loud with every fiber of mybeing. First they objectified her, reduced her to the plot device and 1/3 ofthe love triangle, and now they stripped her of her integrity for a guy who wasconstantly leading her on, who has a girlfiend. They made her so desperate tomake him stay with her that she lost a part of himself for him. And for who??For a guy who didn't give a fuck about her? Who constantly played with herfeelings? Who mocked her and her language and her culture and didn't do so onlywhen it was convenient for him? Honestly fuck him, fuck Arthur. And then A CARCRASHED INTO HIM LIKE ????????????? Someone please explain to me what was thepoint of that cause the only one I see was to provide a fandom with a greatfree entertainment.

Now, episodes 9 and 10 were overall much stronger thanthe past few weeks but it was already to late to salvage the season. We gotanother cheating apologists scene which was - again - absolutely disgusting,especially coming from Lucas - who gave Arthur the same advice he gave to Emma- and Yann - who was cheated on and knew from his own experience that stufflike that always come out in the end. It's like all their character developmentfrom previous seasons went down the drain. Arthur on the other hand seemed tohave a character regression with each passing week. I'm still appalled by whatLucas said - that Alex is their friend but Arthur is part of the gang. It wasdisgusting. And it was out of the character. And it was the worst possiblething that could've been said.

Coline's song was so beautiful and I was so happy thatArthur finally realized what he's lost, though I feel like all those intensestaring between Arthur and Noee was unnecessary again, it's like they couldn'tjust give us a break for one clip from them, it's like she was constantlystealing Alexia's moments, whether she was on screen at the time or not.

The clip with elu was sweet and gave us greatwholesome content, but it only confirmed that Lucas' abandonment issues woke upfrom their nap and I'm already dreading what they're planning to do with thatin s6, especially that according to the latest news Lucas is not very presentin the next season... The polyamory talk... It was odd. It felt force. Thebuildup to it wasn't done very well and what' more it was built on cheating.And that's doesn't bode well. It's also quite ridiculous how it took 1 minuteconversation with Lucas or even one sentence from him tbh for Arthur to go"oh yeah I'm poly. I think." and tell Noee that he loves her eventhough he spent the last couple of weeks denying that and pushing her away. IHATE that yet again they made her be so desperate and cry when he was tellingher this. That's not Noee they gave us in the first half of the season. Ireally liked the clip of Laura and Melchior and Arthur giving the presentationto the students but Arthur's grandiose speech to students and then to girls wasso strange, there wasn't any buildup to it, or more likely Arthur that we werehaving on screen from the end of ep 4 till the end of ep9 was gone and the oldArthur finally showed up. But nevertheless it was strange and not very fittingto the way how the story progressed.

NOW the last two clips - first was a little bit shortand I can't say I was a huge fan (though Eliott's kermit-like dance waseverything jdskjdkjjd) but the second clip was absolutely beautiful, we finallysaw Daphne talk, I'm still not sure what to think about Noee/Arthur (not reallya fan of how the story was resolved... or how it wasn't resolved), AND THEMURAL! LUCAS CRYING BECAUSE HE'S PROUD OF HIS BOYFRIEND! ELIOTT ONCE A YEARMAKING A MURAL OUT OF PURE LOVE! EVERYONE CRYING! ELIOTT NOT PAINTING HIMSELFBECAUSE HE DOESN'T CONSIDER HIMSELF PART OF THE SQUAD (although he is, I don'tknow why they don't understand it) and... Lola. But I guess I'll be back to itlater.

So now, I can't say I'm a fan of the season. I enjoyedsome of the clips, but overall it was a mess, love triangle and fandom and crewbehaviour ruined the season for me. I was absolutely disgusted but howprivileged fans acted on tumblr and on twitter. And yes. There are privilegedfans, fans who were shutting others up because they "don't want us to getour hopes up when we don't know what might happen", fans who were sayingthat "you don't know anything haha i can promise you don't know shit hahano i don't know anything and no i'm not jealous haha you just don't know buthaha tell me this oh how stupid you are", fans who were acting like afandom police all the freaking time, yelling at everyone to "wait and see!you don't know what will happen!". Well. We didn't. Because contrary to 5%of the "little ones-fans", the rest 95% is not privileged enough toget a special treatment, to be invited on set for filming, to know the detailsof the plot before the season airs, to know the bigger picture. It's not fair.If you really know everything then great, I'm happy for you, but let the otherswatch the show how they like, let them react to it clip by clip. Because mostof us don't know the bigger picture and don't know what will happen and how theissues will be resolved. And you are aware that the format of the show itselfencourages viewers to react to the events of the story as they resolve onscreen and through transmedia content, right? That's the essence of skam.Taking that away from the regular fans because you've been let in to some innercircle and know it all is absolutely disgusting. Don't interact with the fandomif you can't stand seeing people not agreeing with the writing choices,questioning what they watch and theorizing about what will happen. If you're soabove it, then just stick with the people like you, with those 5% or so ofknow-it-all and "enjoy" the show with them. Don't ruin the fun forothers. You're not better than anyone else. Don't act like it. Don't be ahypocrite. Don't act publicly as a fandom police, criticize everyone who sharesspoilers and call them out and write hateful posts, if you're doing the sameprivately, if you can't shut up when someone sends you a dm or a message offanon and suddenly you spill everything. Don't be fake. If you know stuff, thengreat, I don't know admit it and say that you want say anything or don't sayanything but then don't spread the spoilers and don't write cryptic comments inthe tags. It's not helping anyone and it's definitely not doing anything good.And to people on twitter currently posting what I guess they assume are vaguetweets about cast’s personal lives? Fuck you. You’re so loud, you know? Maybeyou think you’re talking in a special code only you and your friends can guessbut it’s so obvious and so disgusting, you really have no shame. Grow up andget a life.

Another thing that ruined the season for me was theway the crew was acting on twitter and instagram and I’m so so so disappointed by their behaviour,especially that I’ve always considered them as one of the most open-mindedteams who respect their fans and their opinions. Turns out they do that butonly when the reactions to the clips are positive. I mean, I kind of get it,obviously everyone wants to hear the praise, but you cannot ignore thenegative comments and fans’ concerns, especially that there were plenty of themthis season. And during social media age when it takes one click to see theliked posts or comments, it becomes obvious that the crew was only interacting (evenin such a passive way like liking comments or tweets) with fanswho were praising the show. All the negative comments and questions werebrushed off, saying that “the season will reveal its own truth” and that iffans will have any questions they will be answered after. Well, franklyspeaking, me and my friends have a list of questions that we’d love to get ananswer for:

- why was love triangle necessary?- why did they make Alexia and Arthur a couple in the first place if theywanted him to go after Noee?- why did Noee say she doesn't like talking out loud cause sign language is howshe communicates only to yell at Arthur to stop him from leaving, losing herintegrity for a guy who doesn't care about her?- car????????????????????????- cheating convos - why are they excusing it like that- treatment of Alexia & why did they include numerous comments about Alexia'sbody?- THE MALE GAZE - why did the camera focus so much on Noee's body, why was sheobjectified and why was she presented as a stark contrast to Alexia?- fifi?- p*trick and why the abuse was introduced so late in the plot and overshadowedimmediately by cheating and then followed by crackfic farm au?- why didn't we see any Arthur centered clips where he shows he likes art?- why did Arthur and space have no relevance in the season???- why are Lucas and Yann saying shit every time they open their mouths and whydid they forgot about everything that happened in s1?- the whole convo with the boy squad on valentine's day and how shitty theirreaction was - why?- why we didn't see any actual squad interactions on holidays and no realapologies?- why does the life of the characters always has to revolve around romanticrelationships?- why can't men and women be friends unless the man is gay?- what was the point of all the ship wars and skamlaserie photo withArthur/Alexia and Arthur/Noee *especially* after all the comments on twitterand on Instagram when fans were fighting already and it only made thingsescalate? Why not stop it, why pit fans against each other, why let it escalatelike that?- why draw parallels between elu and Arthur/Noee?- Why was Noee reduced to love interest and Camille to translator 90% of thetime and why don't give them similar dynamics with Arthur as Melchior and Laurahave?- how can Arthur see underwater?- Catherine - was she just a queerbait?- tuturo comment from the forum and Arthur's 'relationship' with 34 yo - whywasn’t it mentioned ever again?- how could noee not know arthur has a girlfriend since she was following himon instagram and he had photos with alexia there?- what happened with basile's birthday since they never celebrated them??- in samedi 11:04 (5x10) eliott says "i've got some croissants, do youwant me to heat them up?" which implies that he's already bought them andbrought them back to the flat BUT he's putting his jacket on as if he was aboutto leave and then he leaves and slams the door so what's the truth?

The crew completely invalidated the feelings andconcerns of the fans and what added fuel to the flame for me was thatskamlaserie post with Arthur/Noee/Alexia and caption that they can’t choosecause they love them both and… Honestly, who the hell works there. There’s beendrama for the whole week on twitter and under David’s posts on insta andinstead of finally end it, idk block the comments or just make a statement ORWHATEVER, they posted THAT on the official show’s account?? Why haven’t they stopped it? Why did they keep on pitting fans against each other up to the point that one twitter user started getting DEATH THREATS only because they translated some video??? Absolutely disgusting.@skamlaserie and @fr team: hate to break it to you but there's nothing wrong with being single andthere's plenty of teenagers who aren't in relationships in high school andthat's okay... maybe that's how Arthur should've started the season instead ofbecoming a cheater and leading on two girls at the same time just for the sakeof having unnecessary relationship drama which literally only created somepointless ship wars and put half of the fandom off watching the show... just saying.

Then, another things that rubbed me the wrong way werethe whole “canceling” discourse (that never really happened and I still standby what I said in the comments to this post so I’ll just direct you to it) and imposingthe one “right” interpretation on the fans - I specifically have the cheatingconvo from episode 8 in mind now. We all have a right to our owninterpretations of every scene, here many people saw it as Eliott’s commenthaving an effect on Lucas and his abandonment issues and started commenting onthat on twitter and David had to rush to explain that he hadn’t meant Lucas,that Eliott won’t cheat and that they won’t break up and will stay together.Well, the thing is that there’s such a concept as “the death of the author”which I suppose you can already guess from its name says that the author, theirbeliefs, backstory, opinions, etc. shouldn’t be taken into account wheninterpreting the text because writing (or in this case - a show) and creatorare separate entities and shouldn’t be correlated. First of all, thismetaphorical extinguishing of fire seemed pointless and like a mockery, seeinghow two episodes later it turned out people were right and Lucas really tookEliott’s comment personally and his insecurities and abandonment issues wereshowing up again; secondly, after that there were many comments from the crewabout how Elu will stay forever and never break up and maybe it’s just me but Ithink that was obvious, right? So why would they keep repeating that? Unless…something will happen in s6 that will make us doubt that and it’s a preemptive damagecontrol 🙃

So to sum up this monstrosity that I have no idea ifit even makes any sense BUT ANYWAY: I liked some of the things in s5 but overall Ireally really didn’t like it, some people in the fandom were incrediblyannoying and turned out to be fake and complete hypocrites, and the crew’s behaviour on socialmedia leaves a lot to be desired and I can only hope they will acknowledge anycriticism of s6 and won’t blatantly ignore fans’ criticism again. So that’d beit. If you read it till the end then you’re stronger than Sabrina giffingArthur getting hit by a car and I respect you for that cause even I haven’t reread it, have a nice quarantineand stay safe!

[baepsaetan]

Banner by @thebannershop​

Summary: In a futuristic age where a person can be coded and inserted into a new body, the rich can live forever. Born to a wealthy family, Jin expects to live life at a lofty and uncaring height. His expectations go awry when his body is murdered and a small gang steals his ‘stack’ and resleeves him in a criminal. Thrust into a gritty, neon world far below his life as an immortal, where death can be Real, Jin will discover truths that challenge his perceptions and make him wonder what - if anything - immortality is worth.

Chapters:  pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4, pt. 5, pt. 6, pt. 7  -> read on Ao3

Genre: Altered Carbon Fusion, Science Fiction/Futuristic, Slow Burn, Smut, Angst, Murder Mystery

Warnings: Shifting PoVs (primarily Jin), minor character death, abuse, torture, gangs, drug addiction, drug use, references to depression, body dysphoria, animal death, swearing, smut in future chapters

Length: 2k

A/N: I want to emphasize that the beautiful banner is done by Rose at thebannershop, please head her way and give her some love! Just as a heads up, this is going to be a real long haul project - we’re talking 20+ chapters. Hope you all enjoy. :) 

 ---

The person sitting across the table is nothing more than grease on a squeaky wheel, yet Hoseok finds himself personally disliking the man. For one, he keeps making small, covert gestures, leaning over the desk with watery blue eyes, pitching his voice low as though he were sharing a secret Hoseok should be honoured to receive. There’s nothing honest about his too-pale face, his flickering gaze, his eager attempts to be ingratiating even as he lowkey insults the precinct and everyone in it.

It also doesn’t help that he’s being a pain in the ass. Hoseok’s smile doesn’t falter, though, even as he shifts, bouncing his feet under the desk.

“The Kim family,” he repeats for what feels like the fiftieth time and is probably closer to the fifth, “has no legal claim over Seokjin’s body or stack. He was found outside of their home. Further, there is simply no reason for them to be in control of him at this time. I understand how distressing this –”

“Very distressing!” the man interjects, as though that were the point Hoseok had been making. “Very distressing, captain!” Each syllable is punctuated by a nervous, one-fingered tap on the desk, and Hoseok needs to supress his neurochems from flaring up with every tap. “Mr. and Mrs. Kim are absolutely distraught. To have their child back, to know that he is in safe keeping, that would do wonders for their emotional states.”

Idly imagining foisting this man off on one of his lieutenants – not that he ever would – Hoseok brushes back his black bangs, keeps his voice pleasant. “He’s being kept in our most secure storage area, Mr. McCall. We have very rigorous security measures.”

The lawyer’s eyes dart around the small, tidy office, his lips pursed. Hoseok knows it doesn’t look like much. Truth be told, it’s not. But the skeptical implication of that gaze – that Hoseok’s people aren’t good enough – has his own mouth tightening, aching to pull into a frown. He indulges himself for a moment and lets his neurochems activate, pulsing with lightning reassurance through his nervous system and bringing everything into bright focus. It’s a heady sensation, the flood of a potent cocktail of chemicals, difficult to let go, and he could just keep them going, just keep riding that rush…

But he won’t. Not at work. That’s the promise. Hoseok shuts the drugs down, and doesn’t let the resulting plummet show on his face.

Mr. McCall clears his throat, unaware. “Well… yes. But the Kim family have the means to set up an invested, careful and personal watch over Seokjin. They would spare no expense, whereas your department…” Another quick look at the room, hands brushing over the faded wood of Hoseok’s desk. “Your department surely does its best with what it has,” the lawyer finishes.

Fucking Meths, Hoseok thinks, and now his grin is really being threatened – maybe using his chems hadn’t been a great idea. He’s always been a strong believer in smiles being better than whips to get people to do things, but in this case… damn, theories are being tested. He’d rather be laughing any day, and his officers respond to it better than marine-sergeant shit, yet Hoseok can’t help but wonder if slapping on a glare wouldn’t get rid of this man more quickly.

Mr. McCall notices the change, either from simple perception or, much less likely, some kind of basic empathy implant, and a good deal of his fawning disappears. “Captain,” he says, again leaning forward, “truth be told, this is a mere formality. Between you and I, the Kims will have their son back. Either they will get him from you, and be in your debt…” He trails off meaningfully, and Hoseok, jiggling one leg to try to get rid of his irritated energy and the remains of his chem dose, doesn’t reply. Better to make the lawyer say it out loud, get it all out in the open. He’s recording this conversation, anyways.

“Or, they’ll go over your head to someone better suited to deal with a situation of this nature.”

Hoseok can’t help it. He stands up and straightens his black uniform, all in one easy, graceful movement that doesn’t quite mask how angry he is. Yeah. Neurochems were the best invention since God in terms of combat, but they sure as hell don’t help his temper much. “I hope your clients will be able to find someone better suited, Mr. McCall. I don’t think they will, but we can always hope. In the meantime, though, I have a precinct to run.”

“So you won’t take this murder seriously? You have better things to do?”

“I take all murders very seriously. Particularly when the victim’s parents won’t allow us to spin them up to testify. That’s pretty serious, the way I see it.”

McCall bristles. “I don’t know what you’re implying, but Mr. and Mrs. Kim are very devout persons. While they have no compunctions about switching sleeves to maintain their longevity, they view uncontrollable events – such as the very unfortunate case with Mr. Seokjin – as an act of the Almighty. They can in no way jeopardize his soul by –”

“I’ve got the pamphlets; the Neo-Cs show up at the precinct often enough. You don’t need to quote their beliefs at me.”

The lawyer gets to his feet with forced calm, and that’s enough to get a sincere smile back on Hoseok’s face. Bluster and threaten all he wanted, McCall’s family wasn’t one of the big three Meth families, long established and running everything in Triptych on a leash. They were going to have to call in more than a favour, or two, if they wanted Seokjin’s body back, and in the meantime…

Well, in the meantime, Hoseok would be very interested to know just who had killed Seokjin. He would also be very interested in finding out why his family, who refused to give him a new life in a shiny new body, still wanted him back so badly.  

Yeah. And in the meantime, until Hoseok got an official letter signed by the higher-ups, or God Himself, Kim Seokjin was staying right where he was, stack, sleeve, and maybe even soul, too.

---

About six hours later, long after the Meth dog had slunk out of his office and long after his shift was officially over, Hoseok was in the breakroom, joking with one of the newest squad members. “What, you thought the captain was allowed to leave the station? These bars,” he plucks at one of the rank insignia pinned neatly to his jacket, “will electrocute me if I try.”

Jaemin’s eyebrows furrow briefly, and Hoseok knows why he’s hesitating. You don’t get to be captain without getting a reputation, and his reputation isn’t exactly soft. The recruit is wondering if it’s safe to joke, safe to loosen up. Hell, of course it is. They’re in the damn breakroom.

“Yeah,” Hoseok continues offhand. “There’s a reason I made captain at my age. Last captain wanted to leave the station and, well, he tried and he fried. Insta-promotion, y’know?” He laughs at his own joke, loud and sudden. That scares the hell out of Jaemin, the black-haired man rocking back in his chair, but it gets him to offer an only-slightly shaky smile, too – better than nothing.

Tanesha shuffles into the room, looking half-dead, her curly black hair a frizzy halo around her drawn face. He can’t really blame her; not everyone’s a night person, himself included, and The Curve isn’t exactly the quietest precinct in Triptych. He slips out of her way as she stumbles to the coffeepot – she sniffs at it, grimaces, shrugs, and then pours herself a cup. The best tech minder in the business is not exactly picky when it comes to her caffeine high.

Not that he can judge when it comes to being picky about highs. His skin prickles at the thought.

Leaning against the table, nose almost buried in the mug – like she’s hoping the scent alone will give her a jolt – Tanesha asks, “What’re you still doing here, captain Jung? Thought you had afternoon shift.”

“Afternoon, night, morning, I got ‘em all.”

“Please,” she snorts at his grand announcement. “Even you don’t have that much energy.” Suddenly glancing at Jaemin, the tall woman raises an eyebrow. “He been feeding you that bullshit story about being trapped here?”

“Uhh… no?” the new recruit answers, cautiously side-eyeing Hoseok. Hoseok flashes him a thumbs up.

“Please.” Tanesha snorts again, leaving off her coffee long enough to gesture with the mug at the captain. “Don’t let him impress you too much. Just remember, only reason he can do fifteen-hour days is ‘cause he’s outfitted with enough hardware to run a small planet into the ground. Neurochem, internal board, ONI, amplifiers, you name it and he’s got it. Almost a robot, that one.”

With a sharp bark of laughter, Hoseok doesn’t let the sting of that comment enter his voice. “Aish, you won’t let me brag, huh?” It’s not like I asked for all of these.

“You only get to brag when you deserve it,” his lieutenant replies. Somewhat unexpectedly – maybe for Jaemin’s benefit – she adds, “Besides, you deserve it so often, I have to work to cut you down when I get the chance.”

“Your hard work is appreciated,” he says solemnly, managing to remain deadpan for about four seconds. Then her round face scrunches, unimpressed, and façade cracking apart into another chuckle, Hoseok continues more seriously. “But Lieutenant Adebayo is right. I don’t expect any of you to pull long shifts like this. I get away with it because –”

The lights die, plunging them into dark and cutting off his words like a curtain dropped too soon. Suddenly an alarm is blaring from his ONI device, so loud that it completely drowns out Jaemin’s startled cry and Tanesha’s swearing. He claps his hands over his ears in pained reflex even as his eyes adjust, forcing back the dark, but it obviously does nothing to block out the noise.

“Attention,” a cool, genderless voice announces directly in his ear. It alternates with the alarm. “Attention. Cortical shelf thirteen-forty-three-forty has been illegally accessed. Attention. Immediate action required. Attention. Permission to shutdown system?”

He’s already got his watch up, the display light shining brightly in the dark, and the second the on-screen permission request appears Hoseok jabs a confirmation to block all access to the shelves. “Adebayo, get the lights back on. Preferably ten seconds ago,” he snaps at their tech, and then he’s out of the room. Even as he moves, flinging himself around desks and moving easily by the officers stumbling around in the blackness – not everyone has an upgraded sleeve and upgraded vision like he does – Hoseok is cursing. Himself, the computer system, whoever the hell is hacking them –

And McCall. He’s definitely cursing McCall. Given the cortical shelf number, he has a feeling he’s going to be seeing the lawyer sooner rather than later.

Within about two minutes, he’s barrelled down the stairs into the basement, where the stacks are stored. Here, he doesn’t need his enhanced eyesight; the wall of small compartments glows a soft red, each occupied shelf accompanied by a light blinking just above it. The stack storage is run off a separate power source, the better to stop – well, to stop exactly this from happening. Hoseok stares for a long moment at the distinctly dead light over the shelf that his ONI is helpfully informing him is empty, before pulling up his watch. A few quick taps, and he doesn’t know whether he should be relieved, confused or just plain pissed off.

He definitely wants to take another hit of neurochems. Could anyone blame him for it?

After all, Seokjin’s ruined body is still in storage, but his cortical stack is gone.

[seanfalco]

Twinsies

Fandom: The Witcher Punk!AU (Future) Pairing: Punk!Jaskier x Reader / Punk!Valdryn / Punk!Gerennefer Word Count: 1445 Rating: T Taglist: @ficsandcatsandficsandcats​ @nevadawolfe​ @magic-multicolored-miracle​ @coffee-and-stories​ @whatevermonkey​

a/n: A little future punk!au drabble ft. Sam & Ciri that I’ve had in my head for a bit now.  Based off of the time both Kat & I unknowingly pinned the same shirt to both Jaskier & Valdo’s sections of our shared pinterest board.  Enjoy!

“Are they here yet?” Jaskier asked for the third time, and you forced yourself to take a deep calming breath, your phone buzzing, saving you from the urge to throttle your husband.

“Yen and Geralt just got here,” you announced, reading Yennefer’s text.

“It’s not them I’m worried about,” Jask exclaimed, pacing.  “Their kid’s also in the play, so of course they’ll be here on time.  It’s Aev and Valdo I’m worried about,” he ground out.  “That man is always late and I want to make sure we get the best seats in the house to see Sam!”

“Jaskier, calm down,” you murmured, placing your hand on his arm to stop his pacing.  “They haven’t even opened the doors yet.  Besides, Aevryn and Valdo only flew in a couple hours ago, they’re probably jet-lagged.”

“That’s no excuse for them to be late to their niece’s first theatrical production!” Jaskier cried dramatically, and you couldn’t help the grin that tugged at your lips as you grabbed his shoulders, forcing him to look at you.

“They’re going to be here on time,” you assured him, though he looked ready to argue.  “And do you want to know how I know that?”  Jaskier slowly closed his mouth, peering at you with interest. 

“Because I told Valdo to be here a half hour before they actually had to be here,” you explained.  “Which means…”

“They’ll be here on time,” Jaskier finished and shook his head ruefully.  “Okay, colour me impressed,” he said, pulling you in for a quick kiss.

“And speak of the devil,” he muttered, glancing past you as he spotted Valdo’s black Tesla whipping into the parking lot.

Soon Geralt and Yennefer met you by the front doors and the four of you waited for the last two members of your party.

“Hey, I hope we’re not late,” Aevryn exclaimed apologetically as you enveloped her in a hug.  “It took V forever to decide what to wear.”

“Oh, no, you’re right on time,” you assured her (a little smugly) before turning to greet her husband.

“Oh.”

You froze as Valdo stepped up behind Aev and your eyes fell to his shirt — dark blue with a muted floral print; sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and the top several buttons undone to show off a glimpse of his smooth chest, decorated by his usual layers of necklaces.  

“[Y/N], is something wrong?” he asked, a note of worry in his voice as you quickly brought your hand to your mouth to cover your grin.

That was when Jaskier turned from his conversation with Geralt and his blue eyes locked on Valdo.  “Oh no.  Oh nonononono,” he muttered in disbelief.

Aevryn broke her composure at the same time you could no longer hold back your own laughter; the other woman hanging off your shoulder, shaking with mirth at the sight of the two men wearing the. exact. same. shirt.

“You have to change!” Jaskier cried, scandalized, gesturing to Valdo’s chest.

“Why do I have to change?” Valdo demanded, equally scandalized.  “Why don’t you?”

“Because I was here first!”

“Well, I wear it better!”

“Nobody is going home to change,” you interjected sternly — the effect somewhat ruined as you wiped away the amused tears from the corners of your eyes from laughing so hard.  “Besides, there’s not enough time.”

Jaskier glanced at the watch at his wrist before scowling, knowing you were right.

“Now now gentlemen, you both look lovely,” Yennefer remarked; her dark painted lips carefully neutral, though a spark of amusement danced in her violet eyes as she studied Jaskier and Valdo’s sour expressions.  “It will be dark in the auditorium.  Just don’t sit next to each other and no one will even notice.”

You shared a dubious look with Aevryn, and even Geralt smirked briefly, but it was time for the doors to open and you were eager to find your seats.

True to Yennefer’s suggestion, Jaskier sat as far as possible from Valdo, who didn’t seem to mind, settling in the seat at the end of the row next to Aevryn.  Throwing his arm around her shoulders he leaned in to whisper something in her ear, his dark emerald gaze flicking to Jaskier, and Aev giggled, whispering something back as she stroked the side of his face fondly.

By Valdo’s smug smile you could only guess she was assuring her husband that he did indeed wear the ensemble better than Jaskier, as you had had to assure your own husband the same thing just moments earlier.

However when the lights dimmed and your daughter took the stage with Ciri, all other thoughts fell away.

——

After the show the six of you milled about the atrium with the other parents, waiting for the kids to come out for photos.

Jaskier was careful to keep his distance from Valdo, but you noticed more than a few curious stares from the other adults —whether because of the shirt or because they recognized either one or both of the men, you had no idea.

Yennefer disappeared into the crowd to go greet her friend Triss while Jaskier went to stand next to Geralt.

“Can you believe it?” he grumbled under his breath, his eyes trained on Valdo, who was currently speaking with [Y/N], his arm looped around Aevryn’s waist.  “What are the odds, hmm?”

“It’s not like he did it on purpose,” Geralt pointed out, following Jaskier’s gaze.  “He seemed just as surprised as you.”

“Well sure… I suppose,” Jaskier spluttered, frowning indignantly.  “It’s just… you think I look better in it, don’t you?”

Geralt grunted noncommittally, not really wanting to get drawn into it.

“Geralt?” 

“Perhaps you should start checking with Aev before you go out to make sure you and Valdo don’t match.”  The wolfish grin on his friend’s face nearly had Jaskier’s eyes bulging out of his head; his mouth gaping open.

He expression only soured further as Valdo approached, oblivious to the betrayal that had just occurred.

“I still can’t get over how absolutely wonderful the girls were tonight!” he exclaimed, practically beaming, all traces of smug superiority gone.  “I mean, talk about thespian perfection!  They both deserve Tony’s for that performance.”

You couldn’t help but smile fondly at Valdo’s earnest praise of your daughter and niece, and you threw a meaningful look at Jaskier, who seemed to calm somewhat, though he was subtly edging away from Valdo.

“Daddy!”

Sam’s gleeful cry cut through the low murmur of the milling crowd as she came running over, Ciri not far behind, to nearly bowl over Jaskier with a tight hug.

“What did you think?  Did you like it?  Did I do good?” Sam asked in quick succession; one question on top of the others.

“We were just talking about how wonderful you and Ciri both did, Mitka,” Jaskier exclaimed proudly, squeezing her back.

“Really?” Sam asked, glancing around at the other adults.  That’s when she noticed, her gaze stopping on her uncle Valdo before sharply swinging back to her dad.

“Oh my God, you guys are twinsies!  Did you plan that on purpose?” she squealed, her and Ciri breaking into an unstoppable fit of laughter.  

“Aunt Aevryn, you have to get a picture of this!” Sam cried, taking Valdo’s hand and pulling him over to stand next to her and Jaskier.

Both men glanced at each other uncomfortably over the young girl’s head, grimacing before plastering strained grins on their faces as Aev, giggling herself, snapped a photo with her phone.

“Should this go on the band’s Insta?” she teased, sticking out her tongue at Jask when he opened his mouth to argue.  “Y’know,” she said instead, crouching down to show Sam the photo for approval.  “This just goes to show what good taste they both have, because it’s not the only thing they were able to agree on tonight,” she remarked, glancing up to direct a pointed look at her husband and her best friend, a soft smile on her face.

“Oh yeah?  What’s that?” Sam asked.

“That they’re both really proud of you,” she whispered conspiratorially, loud enough for both men to overhear and at her words Jaskier and Valdo shared a rueful grin before moving to join the rest of you.

Bless Aev, you thought as she stood and Sam came over to throw her arms around you next.  She always did know the exact right thing to say to ultimately smooth over the former rivalry between her husband and yours; to remind them they were on the same side now.

“Okay, now we need a group photo, with everyone!” Sam declared, and this time there were no objections.

[montocalypse]

For 'If I go now, I'd look for another you': Qs 1, 4, 13, 14 and 15. And for 'Sleepless,' Qs 6 and 10. (I know these are a lot, so feel free to take your time.) Thank you!

Thank you so much for the ask @soy-celeste! As you predicted, this did take a while, what with NaNo taking most of my free time, but here we go:

If I go now...

1. What inspired you to write the fic this way?

Story time, kiddos. Back in early 2019, I was just generally feeling miserable and missing Monto while he was frozen out of the squad, and then Alessio posted a couple of photos on his Insta from some cultural event they both attended, and it was really all the push I needed. I’d never even thought of this ship before, but once I saw it, it couldn’t be unseen. I just loved the idea of these two spending time together and maybe even being friends outside Milanello.

I’ve always been drawn to the dynamic of being queer while playing professionally - some of you might remember my first longer story also exploring that theme - and I saw this as a perfect opportunity to take a deep dive. I’d rarely written Monto as the older/more experienced party before, so that was a bit of a challenge, but it was also very fitting considering I was processing my feelings over his absence and inevitable retirement through the story.

So, I wrote like half of the first chapter back in February 2019. Then I was floored by some massive changes in my personal and professional life, and dropped the story for over half a year. When I finally came back to it in the autumn, after Monto’s retirement had put things into a new perspective, I basically rewrote the whole thing to put more depth to their relationship and drive home this generational shift that was happening in Milan, with Monto being brushed aside while Alessio climbed up to become the captain. It became much more than just a simple coming out love story: I was basically reliving the last few years on Monto’s career through the story.

So yeah, the main inspiration was definitely Monto’s retirement, even though the story begins four years earlier. All the other themes - sexuality, friendship, feeling like an outsider, emotional growth etc - all ties back to it. In short, I was feeling emotional, so I was also expressing lots of emotions I was either going through or had gone through before, in the only way I knew how.

4. What’s your favorite line of dialogue?

What a sneaky way to make me go through the story again!

It’s a tie between two very different scenes:

“Ask me why I kissed you.”

and

“Even after I met Cristina and fell in love with her, I kept expecting something to go wrong – for her to find out and leave me, for me to realize I wasn’t really into her, for someone else to come along and tell me I couldn’t be the person I wanted to be…”

First one because it packs all the unspoken feelings into one single sentence. It’s a scene I wrote in one sitting, with next to no edits even in the final version, and this line was something I knew I would use long before I actually got to do it.

The second one because I’m sick of bisexuality being swept under the rug, and this whole scene was my official ‘fuck you’ to everyone who thinks that being in a straight-passing relationship makes us any less queer.

13. What music did you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story? Or if you didn’t listen to anything, what do you think readers should listen to to accompany us while reading?

Sunrise Avenue has been my go-to band throughout the creation of this story, with Heartbreak Century (where the title and all subtitles come from), Somebody Like Me (Crazy), and Question Marks probably being the ones I’ve listened to the most while working this story.

14. Is there anything you wanted readers to learn from reading this fic?

For the longest time I’d wanted to write a story with a bisexual character where the sexual identity matters. I feel like sexual orientation - bisexuality in particular - is often unfairly ignored/forgotten in favour of Fun Gay Shit(TM) in fanfiction, and it’s always kind of bugged me even though I’ve definitely done it myself on many an occasion. 

In this story I wanted to show that being bi is a valid identity that affects how people act and experience the world regardless of their relationship status, and we go through a lot of the same struggles as other LGBTQ+ individuals, as well as stuff that’s specific to us. If there’s one reader who picked that up and maybe gained a new perspective on how they view sexuality, I’d be very pleased.

15. What did you learn from writing this fic?

That sometimes it’s completely OK to take my time writing and updating a story. I think this might be the first time I haven’t felt guilty for taking months to update, because this fic started as a personal therapy project that I never expected anyone else to pick up. And honestly? Had I written and pushed it out when the idea first struck me, I don’t think the story would have turned out half as good, because only with time and numerous edits (and lots of help from @hendos) did I find the right balance and my voice as a writer.

Sleepless

6. What makes this fic special or different from all your other fics?

I could be cheap and just say it’s the ship because this is the only time I’ve written either Edi or Diego. However, that’d be selling it short, because this is actually one of the most personal stories I’ve ever written. 

I wrote it back when I was getting ready to move to another continent, and had to cope with an end to a very short-lived summer romance I’d gone through just before - that story didn’t end there, and it ended up being much more complicated than I’d ever imagined, but back then I didn’t know that. I just knew I’d found something special and I was choosing to walk away from it because if I didn’t, I would have regretted it. And that didn’t make the relationship-that-never-happened mean any less.

Sleepless, as short and (bitter)sweet as it is, re-tells a moment from the end of that non-relationship in as much detail as I could while also keeping true to the characters and context of the fictional relationship I was writing. I’m pretty sure it’s the only one among all my fics where I’ve basically lifted stuff from my own life and written it into a story with only some relatively small changes.

10. Why did you choose this pairing for this particular story?

I adopted Uruguay as my secondary national team during the 2010 World Cup after Italy went out. Sad, I know, but it was also surprisingly easy to fall for them when my attention wasn’t being hogged by the Azzurri. I remember falling particularly hard for Forlán, I was just awestruck.

When it came to choosing characters/pairing for this story, I knew I needed to find players with a clear age gap (to mirror the above-mentioned irl relationship) who were also living/about to live on other sides of the world. Forlán was the obvious choice because he was leaving Europe and I was upset to say the least.

As for Cavani, he was playing in Napoli at the time, so I’d been following him through Serie A, and was intrigued by this introverted singlemindedness I could see in him. I found it very relatable. He seemed like such an interesting person, I just wanted to take a shot at writing him, even if it was only a short piece.

[zmediaoutlet]

fic: slow as you can go

This story was written as a commission for @armellin and @jesusonthetortillas, to illustrate this lovely J2 pic Armellin created.

Pairing: Jared/Jensen Rating: E Tags: Non-AU ‘Canon’ Divergence, Established Relationship, Married Sex Summary: After a convention, Jared and Jensen come home for a brief break. They've earned it.

(read on AO3)

Plane travel will never be Jared's favorite thing—it's probably never going to crest the top thousand of his favorite things—but flying first class definitely makes it better. Actual legroom, for one, and constant booze for another. He stretches out, trying to ignore the constant annoying hum from the engines and the wind against the fuselage, and sips at what may well be his third gin and tonic—but who's counting. Lime and bitter, and it's good, but not as good as what's waiting for them at home.

Thinking of home makes him tip his head to the side against the soft seatback. He smiles. The view in first isn't half-bad, either.

Jensen's sleeping, again. He hasn't shaved all weekend and the stubble's coming in that golden-red color that drives Jared crazy, a little. He doesn't think Jensen's noticed the way Jared likes to run his lips against it, but then again Jensen's pretty observant, about all things Jared, so maybe he has. Doesn't matter either way; it's not like Jared's gonna stop. It's a midmorning flight and most of their fellow passengers are absorbed in whatever high-level business crap they have going on with their laptops, and there's not a flight attendant hovering asking if they need anything. Safe to take a moment and run his knuckles against all that prickly stubble, feel the reverse-grain burn of it against his skin. He really cannot wait to get home.

Jensen makes a soft upset sound, deep in his throat. Whoops. When he stirs into blinking awake Jared makes an apologetic grimace—well-practiced from work, although Sam usually actually feels apologetic and Jared doesn't, right now, not really. Jensen squints at him, clearly still half-gone, and Jared whispers, "Sorry," but he strokes Jensen's jaw again, soft, so it probably doesn't come off as all that genuine.

A beat of Jensen only blinking at him, fuzzy. He presses into Jared's knuckles for the barest second, like a cat, before he scrunches further down in his chair, closes his eyes again. "Keep it in your pants for a few more hours, Jay," he says, scratchy-low. Jared scoffs, and Jensen's mouth turns up at the corners but he's really settled in, going back to sleep for whatever time he has left. Lazy.

Jared sighs, puts his earbuds in. According to the flight map on the seat they've got about eight hundred miles left to get back home. That'll get him through Vs. and most of Vitalogy before he's got to face the real world again, and they'll be a good distraction, will stop him from bothering Jensen before he's allowed. Sometimes he really hates Jensen's no PDA rule, but hell. Doesn't mean he can't make all kinds of plans, in the privacy of his own head.

*

Over the years of flying all over the country—all over the world, now, with the conventions overseas—they've pretty well perfected getting out of an airport in record time, and from wheels-down at Austin-Bergstrom it takes them less than an hour to pull into their driveway. Home's a gorgeous spread on the lake, a long private drive and mature trees all over the grounds. The house is a compromise: Jensen thought it was too much space, and Jared thought the layout was too weird, but the private dock won them both over. Jared's gladder every day that they pulled the trigger, though, and gladder still that they've been able to maintain some semblance of privacy. No Insta-pictures here, no interviewers allowed. Means that when Jensen pulls the Range Rover into the garage there's no one trying to peep in and see what they're doing, no weird fans or photographers to see Jared lean over as soon as Jensen puts it into park and palm his jaw and pull him in and kiss him. Startled at first, but then he smiles against Jared's mouth and kisses back, slow and shallow.

"You've been waiting to do that all day," Jensen murmurs, when Jared pulls back, and Jared shrugs, not denying it. He's been waiting to do a lot more. He drags his thumb over the beginnings of Jensen's beard again, looks at him. The garage's huge windows let in a wave of late-morning light, casts gold over Jensen's eyes, sparks his lashes and stubble golden-red. Shows off his freckles, and the shine on his lip that Jared left. He touches there, a swell of heat in his belly, and Jensen smiles again but catches his hand before he can do more. "C'mon. Let's get this done."

Jared sighs. "Do we have to?" Jensen only rolls his eyes, and kisses Jared's thumb. "Fine," Jared says, "but you owe me."

"Oh, I bet," Jensen says, but he swings out of the car then, too, and Jared's got no choice but to follow. There are things they should do, it's true. And hell, they have today off, and tomorrow too, before they have to fly back to Vancouver. They have time. They've made the time.

Jensen's in charge of sorting out the laundry, because he says that he can't trust Jared to empty the pockets right—total lies—and so Jared takes the time to go through the house, room by room. Saying hello, and checking up, too. They've got paid caretakers, gardeners and Maricela who comes by twice a week to dust up and clean, but it's still their house. Jared misses it, like a dope, when they're gone. Most of the curtains are drawn, by Maricela's habit, and he opens them up, lets all the light in. The living room, the den, the lounge where they regularly trounce Steve at pool, when they actually get to be home. The kitchen, and there the little neat list Maricela left of things she had to buy, things she threw out, and a note that she made salsa and left it in the fridge.

That's where Jensen finds Jared, when he comes back downstairs with a laundry basket. "I see you're hard at work," he says, dry, but he lets Jared put a salsa-laden chip in his mouth anyway, and hums. Damn right. Maricela's tomatillo salsa is worth taking a break for. "Mm, okay," Jensen says, through a full mouth. "Okay, fair. But, dude."

"I'm going, I'm going," Jared says, and caps the salsa back up, promising to get back to it later.

He goes and plugs in both of their phones, and sits in the office with the window open, jasmine-smell pouring in, while he emails their reps. A handful of pictures they each took, to be parted out on their SM for the fans to get excited about over the next few days, and a couple of quotes and stories to write up. Jared gave up control of his Twitter a year or two ago after the last time he had a bad day and was an idiot, and Jensen took his phone right out of his hand and grabbed him around the waist and said, Enough, Jay. Annoying at the time, but honestly, it's so much more relaxing to just be… cut off.

Still, sometimes he does like to see what people are posting. That photographer who's been following them around got some good shots, looks like. He scrolls through the feed. Nice pictures of the ladies—Brianna and Kim have really been glamming it up lately—and he laughs hard enough at a ridiculous cap of Misha that he has to text it over, with no comment, and a minute later gets a brief I hate you in response. He grins, tosses his phone back down to charge, and finally ventures into some of the fan shots in the hashtag. He's trained himself pretty well not to read the commentary—the options seem to be either fawning, which is uncomfortable, or vile, which is what it is—but from what he can't help but see people seem to have enjoyed it. Since they moved in together, some of the nuttier girls have gone off the deep end, but for the most part things quieted down. Now there's just a lot of happy encouragement sent their way. A lot of real, intense messages, too, and questions at conventions he wishes he had a better answer for. If only they'd managed to make it happen when those it gets better videos were going around. It got so much better, he wants to say. Not perfect, because nothing's perfect and never should be, but oh, man. It got a lot better.

"That's a good one," he hears, and blinks back to reality, after who knows how long. The picture on the screen's one of them—of course, one of them—taken by one of the girls in the audience. From the angle Jensen's face is the only one visible, and he looks… Well, really, Jared's the only one who should see him like that. The girls are always clever with their timing, though. Jensen comes up and leans over the back of his chair. "You know when that was?"

Jared shrugs. "Yesterday?" he says, and Jensen flicks the back of his shoulder. It's true, though—on stage everything turns into a blur. They were doing a bit, probably, because they usually are, but they're basically hugging. No PDA, that's always Jensen's rule, but there's no way Jared's not going to hug Jensen, given the opportunity. No matter how earsplitting the response.

"You don't remember?" Jensen says, and Jared looks up, over his shoulder. He's getting an amused look. "So you're just a little shit without even planning it?"

"I'm an enormous shit, thank you very much," Jared says, immediately, but then he remembers. "Oh, yeah."

"Oh, yeah, he says," Jensen says, rolling his eyes, and then shoves Jared's shoulder so the chair spins when Jared laughs. "Yeah, laugh it up. Like I wasn't trying to think about saggy ass and reshoots in the rain when you were just grinning up a storm, shithead."

Jared catches him around the waist, still chuckling. "I really didn't mean to," he says, and it's—mostly honest. Jensen folds his arms, playing irritated, but Jared's been watching him about to break for a gag reel for over a decade now and he can see the cracks. He stands up, still holding onto his waist, and gets right up in his space, looking down, grinning. "Not my fault you're all hot and bothered for my bod."

That gets him a snort, and he leans down and takes a kiss while Jensen's smiling. That was—yeah, he remembers now. Right there, in front of everyone, and he'd gotten to come in close and hold Jensen's body and he'd brushed his mouth against the top of Jensen's ear, and the little sound Jensen made wasn't one the mics would pick up. He pulls back, now, and watches Jensen licks his lips. Tasting them both. God, it's hot when he does that. Jared keeps hold of his waist and walks him backwards, pressing him up against the wall between the signed Pearl Jam poster and Jensen's framed Willie records, and Jensen's eyes are closed, his ears going red, and that's a perfect opportunity to lean in and down and breathe against his ear again, to brush his lips there, to feel Jensen give that full-body shiver that means—oh, yeah. They're on.

"Like that?" Jared says, and Jensen punches him soft in the gut. He says oof, obligingly, but he's smiling.

"Right in front of everybody," Jensen says, looking up. He licks his lips again, his eyes on Jared's mouth. "You know that drives me crazy, Jay."

"Yeah, I know," Jared says, shrugging, and Jensen rolls his eyes, but he squeezes Jared's bicep, too, curves in close, and Jared kisses him again and thinks, well, maybe he'll be in some trouble—later.

They've been together a long time, though. It's not a crazy, heady rush—not even close to their first time, all shock and teeth and shoving, good and painful and intense enough that Jared thought his heart would just beat right out of his chest. Jensen holds his arm, holds him close there against the wall, kisses him soft and lazy. He makes a little pleased noise when Jared scrapes teeth over his lip, tips his nose against Jared's. "Wanna shower," he mumbles, and Jared groans, stands up straight. With Jensen down to his socks, pressed back against the wall, Jared's got the advantage, and Jensen—yeah, that's working for him. Another thing about being together this long: Jared knows exactly how to push every button.

He lets Jensen lead the way down the hall to their bedroom, and then to the huge open bath. "Music?" Jared says, and Jensen shrugs, and so Jared flips through his phone and finds the playlist with the name Jensen hates: funky grooves to fuck to—but the name's accurate. Slow grinds, heavy bass, and when it comes on to the surround speakers Jensen pauses in the middle of unbuttoning his shirt to give Jared a look over his shoulder. Jared only grins and shrugs at him, perching his ass on the bathroom counter, and Jensen gives a sigh but he keeps stripping, so it's all good in Jared's book.

Big window across the back wall of the bathroom, letting in more of that syrupy daylight. They haven't been able to get out much lately and Jensen's skin has gone all creamy again, freckles fainter, except on his cheekbones and hands where they never really fade. He flips on the shower, strips off his jeans, and he doesn't look at Jared when he steps under the water, which is just as well because Jared's pretty sure he's got a dorky goddamn look on his face. Years and years of this and he's used to most of it, even sometimes takes some of what they have for granted. Jensen naked and shining in the sunlight, though, that's—a lot, no matter what. Jensen letting him see, when he used to be almost shy—that's more, sometimes, than Jared knows how to take.

That first time isn't the one Jared thinks about, much. Too much booze in both of them, and too much of a chance for regret. The second time, that's the one he thinks of as their real anniversary. That night, at Jensen's apartment in Vancouver, and the doorman had let Jared up because he saw Jared about as much as he saw Jensen, and that meant that Jared got all the way up there fueled on adrenaline and hope and knocked on the door before he thought that maybe, maybe Jensen wouldn't—that maybe they'd broken something, between them, and putting it back together wasn't in the cards. When Jensen opened the door he was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt Jared had given him, and he was wearing his glasses, and the look on his face was—Jared's never forgotten that. That exact moment, right then. What came after was almost immaterial, compared to that single second.

What came after wasn't exactly a hardship, though, and between them they've always been good at this. When Jared steps under the spray and touches all that wet soft skin Jensen doesn't flinch, but only tips backward, knowing Jared will balance him. "What if I just dropped you?" Jared says, and Jensen huffs, turning so the shower scatters over his shoulders.

"You think that'll increase your chances of getting any," Jensen says, sliding his hands up Jared's chest, "go ahead and try it."

It's a great shower, multiple showerheads and plenty of room for two. They pass soap back and forth between them, getting clean-ish, and Jensen spends some time mapping the muscle in Jared's back, his ass, his thighs. In return Jared washes Jensen's hair, just to massage his scalp and neck and feel the way he almost purrs in response, and presses kisses all over his shoulders when he's done. He's always loved this part—broad, undeniably masculine, perfect. "What do you want?" he says, leaning in, and he's really asking. They have all day, they can do anything.

Jensen's hand finds his hip, squeezes. His head tips, and Jared finds the curve of his ear again, kisses at the back of it. Gets another shiver, Jensen's shoulders pressing wet and warm against his chest. "I want it…" Jensen trails off, and shakes his head. He detaches Jared's hand from his waist, lifts it, presses his mouth against Jared's knuckles soft and wet and shocking-hot, and his eyes when they meet Jared's are heavy, dark, steady.

Dried off, laid out on their bed with the music still playing, Jensen leans over Jared's chest and kisses him, open-mouthed and taking his time about it. He's always loved kissing and Jared's come to love it too, even if he always used to think of it as just a preamble when he was younger. Jensen's taught him a lot, over the years. How good it is just to lay together, and how good a silk-blend coverlet feels against his skin, and how the point of his jaw can get almost painfully sensitive when Jensen's hands are buried in his hair, and Jensen's mouth moves there, and his teeth scrape against that open curve of bone. "Jesus," Jared says, squirming like he always does, and Jensen laughs, ducks down and bites at his collarbone instead, and oh, yeah. Things Jared never knew he liked, never knew were even a thing. Jensen squeezes at his dick, heavy already with blood and wanting, but it's not a yanking goad into getting along with things—it's just familiar, almost kind. Hello.

More things Jared didn't know: how much Jensen likes it, that Jared's bigger than him. He pushes Jensen onto his back, after a while of Jensen playing, and rolls in so he's hovering, blocking Jensen from the sunlight, and they're pressed against each other hip to hip but Jared's still got five inches on him—four, if Jensen's lying to the press—and Jensen's already flushed, already hard, all open and ready for it, but his lips part in that fantastic turned-on way, getting Jared above him, and Jared smiles, slides his hand down Jensen's side. Other things Jared didn't know: how much he'd like that Jensen wanted him bigger. "Want to suck my dick?" Jared says, soft, and Jensen's eyes screw closed, his hips flinch up into Jared's, but he breathes out a moan, and Jared lifts up, shuffles up the bed on his knees, and Jensen wraps an arm around his hips and a hand around his dick and sucks it in, practiced, easy. So slick, soft, and Jared sighs and cups a hand around the back of his head to support him and fucks in, shallow but good. Middle-of-the-night whispering, years ago, and Jensen had admitted he liked the way his jaw felt sore, after, and Jared had almost busted a nut just thinking about it—easy enough to indulge Jensen, especially when it feels this goddamn good.

"You look incredible," he says, being nothing but honest. Pink flush over his cheekbones to his ears, streaking down his throat—his perfect mouth broken open over the thickness of Jared's dick—and he opens his eyes, looks up as he slides down as far as he can go, the head threatening his throat, and the slight sheen of tears is just—god, god, how did Jared ever get this lucky? He pulls back, all the way out with his prick gleaming all over with Jensen's wet, the vein gleaming, and Jensen sucks in a deep breath, licks his lips, and groans when Jared slides all the way deep again, and digs his nails into Jared's ass to keep him going.

They've got enough practice that Jared won't come from this, but god is it tempting. A long, slow rut in, and he knows Jensen could take it faster, but that's not how he wants to play it. He pulls out when his nuts start to clutch up for real, and Jensen gasps and holds his hips and says, rasping, "Fuck," and Jared can't do anything but agree. He leans down, dick dragging wet over Jensen's stomach while he finds his lips to kiss them, tasting himself, massaging the sore worked muscle in Jensen's cheeks. "Good?" he says, and Jensen moans, holds him, thighs clutching around Jared's hips when they settle together. He's still hard, harder, pressing thick against Jared's abs, and Jared tries to keep his head clear but it's tough, honestly, when he has Jensen like this.

"Tell me what you want?" he says, lips on Jensen's cheek, at the corner of his eye where tears leaked, when Jared pushed too deep. "C'mon, talk to me, tell me."

"Fucker," Jensen breathes, pressing up into him. "You know."

"Yeah," Jared says, against his temple, "but I want you to tell me anyway."

A game, sometimes. How raw he can get Jensen to be. "Fuck me," Jensen says, voice sore, and Jared laughs, breathless and delighted, his gut clutching up crazily at how good that sounds out of Jensen's mouth.

"How?" he says, pushing his luck, and Jensen pushes at his chest, forces him up so they can look at each other, and Jensen's eyes are nearly black and his lips are battered-red, and he says, "Like this," unexpected and low and soft, his fingers touching Jared's throat, and he says, "I want to see you," and Jared swallows, nods, doesn't have to say anything else.

Jensen doesn't need much prep anymore, and Jared doesn't want to make him wait. Slicked up, he dips his thumb in and watches Jensen's mouth part, and then he gathers Jensen's thigh up against his side and leans in close and pushes his dick inside, blooming past the resistance, going slow, and watches all of Jensen's attention turn inward. They've traded back and forth on this and Jared knows the feeling, that crazy stretch—but oh, from this side, that clutching tightness, squeeze of Jensen's body, feeling him all the way, it's like—nothing else. No one else. "Yeah?" he says, pointless, like he doesn't know, and Jensen blinks, refocuses, sinks his hand into Jared's hair and turns his face away from the sunlight and presses his lips against Jared's bicep, and he mumbles, slow, and Jared takes it like the command it is, and stays buried up close with his heart throbbing in his gut for a full minute before he twists his hips back and presses in again, following the beat of the slow bass playing, a steady pulsing rock. Jensen groans, his back arching, and Jared buries his face in Jensen's throat and does his duty, fucking good and deep and slow, giving everything he can, as long as he can.

The sounds Jensen makes—the smell of him, the sweat between them. Jared keeps his eyes closed, feels his skin, his pulse throbbing under Jared's lips. His balls ache but it's that sweet ache of a good fuck, his muscles humming like he's midway through a marathon. Jensen's got an arm wrapped around his neck, a hand on his chest, his legs clutched up high around Jared's waist, and inside he's melting-soft, broken-open-wet, his dick leaking slick all over Jared's stomach. Slow like this, Jared's not chasing anything and he gets to feel every inch, his skin an oversensitive tingle, hot from his lips to his nipples to his fingertips, overaware of every place they're touching.

Too hot, finally—the sun's sunk down, slicing through the bedroom windows, making the bed a pool of light. "Oh, god," Jared says, sliding a hand to Jensen's hip, squeezing. He rolls his forehead against Jensen's collarbone, humps in and stays there, pressed deep, grinding, so Jensen makes a hiccupy noise keep in his chest. "Yeah, that's it. Come on."

"Fuck," Jensen says, squirming against him, and his legs fall open, his thighs shaking. "Oh, I—Jay—yeah, come on, do it."

Jared drags in a breath, pushes up, finds Jensen red-faced and sweaty, his shoulders and chest shining. "Yeah?" he says, but there's no answer—he shoves in, harder, and Jensen lifts into it and groans, gripping at Jared's ass to pull him in deeper, and then that's—that's it. All the permission Jared needed, and he fucks like he means it, then, long deep in-and-out that's dragging at the absolute limits of his control, but he wants to get Jensen there first—and he's getting there, Jared knows he is, by how his hands clutch and his chest is heaving and how his dick's a dark urgent swell against his belly, dragging between them, a trail of wet spilling down Jensen's side. He balances on one arm and slides careful fingers around Jensen's balls, rubs them warm and tucks them up close against Jensen's body, and Jensen opens his eyes and stares at him, looking surprised somehow in the middle of all this. "Come on, baby," Jared whispers, slipping his thumb over the strained wet root of Jensen's pretty dick, and Jensen grabs at his arm and arches up and comes, finally, spurting all over his soft belly, his body straining and clutching at Jared's and ah, ah fuck, Jared did that for him, Jared made that happen—and Jared fucks him through it, keeps up that same steady pace and nails him right there where he needed it, where he wanted it as long as he could get it, until Jensen's thighs cringe and he presses his fingers against Jared's belly and he makes a low pained ah—and Jared pulls back, out, into cruel cold air for a half-second before he strips his dick as fast as he can go, the visual in front of him more than enough—Jensen sprawled and sweat-soaked and well-fucked, shuddering and sensitive, and his eyes open and his fingers curl against Jared's sides and he says, yeah, give it to me, show me, and Jared shoots over his knuckles, spatters Jensen's hip and the still-thick curve of his dick and his thigh, and Jensen sighs, as satisfied as though it were him who got to come a second time. He reaches for Jared, easy demand, and Jared goes, collapsing down onto the welcome stretch of his body, smearing everything between them, and it's worth it to find Jensen's mouth, soft, starting once again to smile.

[jackbabewang]

New addiction

Pairing: Jaehyun x Reader Genre: Tattooist!au, Smut Word Count: 4,063

“Welcome to your new addiction.” There goes the slogan of Empire Ink, a place you’ve found to build the little dream of yours, a place where you discovered your new addiction.

Note: There’s something magical that I have to tell you guys—Few days ago, I stumbled across a tattoo of Jaehyun on my insta feed. Then, there’s a post where Jaehyun said that in his dreams he had a tattoo on his body. And I just had my tattoos touched up weeks ago. All this happened when I’m in the middle of writing this. Hope this turns out well! First attempt with suggestive content and then I have this one dollar photo shop quality, please bear with me. Thank you! (Not proofread, changes will be made in the future.)

Over the last decade, tattoo parlors burst forth within the districts of Seoul, like desert flowers blooming after a rain.

The body art was no longer viewed as a sign of trouble or gang affiliation and it was pretty common nowadays, even among the ladies.

You weren’t in the exception either. Well, not in a way like covering your skin with tattoos because you knew you would definitely regret it in the future.

Preferably, you are good in sketching and you’ve always had the idea of bringing your artworks into life. The canvas you wanted to work on was human skin, that would provide the pieces of art the mobility as they went down the streets of the city, showing off to the eyes of the public like a walking exhibition of your own.

Instead of chasing after the end goal, you chose to start it small with getting yourself a part time job during your breaks, to keep yourself motivated. Although you knew the possibility of you holding the gun is close to none, you wouldn’t mind either as long as you get to make your designs known.

You’re glad that the store you’re heading to did show a lot more interest in your artworks besides the multiple owner’s you’ve contacted, which they were looking for someone that could actually handle the machine.

A minimalist signage on the shop front, Empire Ink, large double-door of oak and glass serves as the entrance. The exterior was already welcoming.

With a genuine smile on your face, you push open the door, revealing a wide studio with high-class and modern interior. It looks as if it was an art gallery instead of the ideal place you were looking for. You’re in awe at how neatly the furniture and decorations were arranged. There’s a feature wall adhered with torn pages of sketchbooks with hand-drawn designs, the lightings in the studio making it more visually appealing.

You were lost in admiration when the sound of a friendly voice broke in, “Hello, how may I help you?”

You turn around and your eyes met with a guy who stood behind the reception desk, greeting you with a toothy smile. His hair was dark, with piercings that you couldn’t count on your fingers, wearing a black Hawaiian shirt patterned in hibiscus and palm leaves.

“Hey, um…” you begin hesitantly, unsure what to say when he continues to stare you down. “I’ve made an appointment few days ago, with Ten. It’s about the part-time job...”

“Oh, it’s you!” his smile grows even wider, eyes crinkling as he gives you a high-five instead of a traditional handshake, telling you to take a seat by a bar table while he gets some drinks for you. “I’m Ten, by the way.”

Slow and jazzy music booming through the speakers giving a comfortable feeling while you’re still doubting whether you’ve gone to the wrong place. It wasn't the tattoo parlor you envisioned.

“Relax. I don’t bite.”

He occupies the seat in front of you and props his chin on his hand, “So… I’ve seen your portfolio and I’m really amazed with your skills. I assure you that the others feel the same way too.”

Immediately a smile splits across your face, half appreciation, half embarrassment.

“Do you have any tattoos on yourself?” he wonders. The so called interview wasn’t as formal as you thought, it’s more of like a casual conversation where you get to know each other.

“No, I might regret it,” you chuckle, noticing the obvious differences on your skin. His was covered in elegance of floral line art, like the garden of Eden, while yours is a blank canvas.

And you begin to tell him about your story and the little dream of yours. You could sense the connection between him when he lets out ‘oohs and aahs’, putting you more at ease. The tiny seed of hope inside you was blooming when he said he sees the potential in you.

“That’s great! I can’t wait to work with you,” he squeals.

Your chatting gets interrupted when the entrance door opens, comes in guys in colorful hair and inked skin. You suppose they were visiting for their appointments, not until Ten calls over.

“Newbie!” he points at you and they wave in unison, greeting you with the same warmth-filled smile.

“So, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Leaving the place with a new excitement, you made a statement in your head: The whole studio just screams aesthetic, even the tattoo artists themselves.

Three weeks into your new job, you’ve gotten closer with everyone besides Ten, namely Taeyong, Yuta and Jaehyun. All of them are fairly nice and pampered you with food. While you’d help them in a lot of aspects like setting up the tattoo machines, arranging their schedules, snapping photos of their works, managing the official Instagram profile, the list goes on. You’ve done the most for Jaehyun, being busiest among the guys, that he somehow gave you the title as his personal assistant.

And when Ten needs your help, “Can you prepare my gear while I get the stencil done…”

“No, quit making her do things for you… She’s mine,” Jaehyun argues back.

It always turns out as their childish bickering with Ten defending that he was the one that brought you in while Jaehyun muttering bastard under his breath.

“How old are you? Five?” you accompanied the question with a jab on his chest.

That said, his expression brightens, the playful smirk was replaced with a fake pout and he whispers, “You poked my heart.”

You pull your hand away as soon as it was caught in his, spinning around to Ten’s workstation.

In a skillful manner, you set up the equipment and laid out unopened packages of needles, ink caps placed by the side. After one last check you had everything done, you return to your drawing desk.

The studio falls silent again, only with the soft music playing on the speakers, until you heard feminine giggles coming from Jaehyun’s workstation. Your head turns to the voice to see him entertaining his client, while she has her free hand covering her redden face.

Recently the parlor has attracted quite a number of females, each tattoo artist has one or two for a day while Jaehyun mostly have them for all of his appointments. Surprisingly they came in with the proposals to have your designs inked on their skin. Your artworks that were published on social media received thousands of likes and comments. Not to exaggerate on your achievement, you were grateful for that.

Your eyes train onto Jaehyun’s nimble hands as he works professionally, watching as the desired art piece slowly forming on her milky skin. The humming of the tattoo gun filled your ears and time just flew by when you had your full attention on the poking of the needles.

He must have felt your gaze so he raises his head, flaunting his dimples as he shoots you a cheeky smile. Something about him made you whisk away, blinking several times, clearing your throat. There was a sudden rush of emotion you couldn’t pin point but you felt your cheeks burn and your heart picks up a beat.

Jaehyun was a charming guy, you could say that’s a fact, which explains why he was flooded with the females. He is playful at times, serious when it comes to work. He gets all lovely around you and you’ve always thought it must have been their nature to be flirty and such.

The other guys have left earlier when you both were occupied with work. About half an hour later, Jaehyun is finally done, greeting his client goodbye, and he makes his way to you.

Your arm moving in a frenzy, forehead furrowed in concentration that you didn’t realize he’s lying on the bed by your side. A hand propping his head and he watches you, mirroring your actions from before.

Then all of a sudden, he breaks the silence, “I'm bored.”

He stifles a laughter, amused seeing that he gave you a little jolt of shock at the sound of his voice. Your hand jerked in reaction and you stare at your messed-up drawing, which was almost done.

“Shit. I hate you.” The pen flew across the table and you rise on your feet, lunging forward the guy who appeared to be giggling. “You’re so annoying sometimes…”

His laughter growing louder when your hands reach to his neck, strangling in a playful manner and you shove his chest.

“Are you a man,” he chokes out.

He shifts on the cushioned surface and settling to lay flat on his stomach, arms draping the sides of the bed.

“My back hurts, can you help me?” he groans painfully when his spine straightens in his current positionㅡthe drawbacks of being a tattoo artist. They often crane their necks, bend and stoop for long hours practicing their craft. They do stop for breaks to stretch their bodies, but the ache they put themselves into were incomparable.

“I wasn't hired for this…” they sure never did. None of them had you done something that ever requires physical contacts, something like giving a massage. Jaehyun was relatively comfortable with you, way too comfortable you suppose.

“Please…”

Convinced, you climb onto the bed, your knees by the sides of his thighs and you begin working your fingers on his tense muscles. He lets out grunts and hisses, squirming underneath when you reach the trigger points. Cracking sounds can be heard when he moves his head, the joints in his neck popping like a glow stick.

“I might need your help next time… You’re really good at this,” his voice muffled between folded arms.

“Pay me.”

He chuckles, basking in the silence before he speaks up again. “Hey, I’ve caught you watching me for a couple of times. I suppose you were studying the procedure, or should I say you were checking me out?” he just couldn’t let a day go without teasing you.

Perhaps, he has a secret satisfaction about your baffled, flustered and bewildered reactions.

Rather, you remain quiet. Your silence didn’t go unnoticed when he suddenly turns on his back, facing you completely. The position had your eyes grew the size of saucers, you’re practically straddling on top of him in a considered intimate position. Words caught in your throat and you find yourself avoiding his eyes, a flush starts at your neck and creeps to your cheeks. A slow panic begins to set in at the thought of getting caught, especially by the guys.

Bolting upright and trying to scramble off the bed, but Jaehyun won't let you pass. He grips your hips and holds you down, having you sitting on his thighs.

“What are you doing?”

He smiles cockily and warning signals flickered suddenly in your head.

“What do you think, babe?”

“Babe?” your brows furrowed in disbelief, you felt your heart thumping, almost jumping out of your chest. This time he loosens his grasp, letting you crawl off the bed just when Ten walks in.

The innocent guy has his eyes flitting back and forth between the both of you, staring quizzically at Jaehyun who's still lying on the bed, grinning from ear to ear.

“Please don't tell me you guys just done something like what I have in mind.”

“What-”

Jaehyun rolls off the bed and stands, “She's an expert I can say.” A contented mewling sound slipped past his lips as he stretches his body.

Laughing once again at Ten's remark. “Oh my god, you guys are nasty.”

“We didn't!”

And from that day onward, Jaehyun just stays on your mind, in your brain, your head. The voice that called you by the pet name ringing your ears, the warmth that clasped on your body making your stomach churns in a good way.

He’s always there, within your radar. Light brushing of skin which was once overlooked, you’re hyper aware of them now and they never failed to spark your curiosity. When your eyes meet occasionally, he returns it with a smile and for the first time, you realized that dimples are indeed adorable.

He does have some strange effects on you that you didn’t think it could ever happen.

In this decent size of a pantry, large enough for three people, you find yourself growing alert in his presence. He wasn’t even doing anything yet your fingers are trembling when you reach for the cabinet.

“Peach tea?” he questions out of the blue, as though he was watching you.

Jaehyun too, is having a hard time biting back a grin when he sees you like this.

You nod.

When you thought he left, suddenly, hands braced on either side of you, trapping you in place between muscular arms, inks on the skin that you can easily recognized.

“Jaehyun?” you duck your head to the side when his face closes in from behind.

“Why are you so nervous?” his voice resonates in your ears, laced with amusement.

“I- The guys-” your words came out stuttered and slurred. The last thing you wanted was to get caught red handed in this situation. Ten could hardly keep his mouth shut for weeks about that one time albeit it wasn’t even true.

“What if I say they've already left,” he turns you around, looking straight in your eyes, toothy smile still plastered across his face, “Does that allow me to do this?”

He grabs your empty cup, only a tea bag was dropped inside, and he puts it away, in one fluid moment. He wasn’t even forcing you into it yet you’ve already let your guard down.

It was his eyes that drew you in. They challenged you. Their intensity, their energy made you fall under his spell. You couldn’t move away as he holds your chin tenderly between thumb and the crook of his index finger. Jaehyun stares down at your lips. You felt the magnetic pull towards each other’s mouths. But he still didn't kiss you.

The entire time he hovers above you, his lips a hair’s breadth away from your own. Teasingly he grazes your lips a couple of times, his minty breath brushing lightly and a moment later, his tongue skimmed over your quivering flesh. Though he has the audacity to pull away, laughing softly when you chase after him.

“Back to work,” he sings, taking a sip from his mug before waddling out his way under the bamboo beaded curtain. Its tone of bright red of the millennial brand, Supreme, reflecting the shade on your cheeks.

There are times when things just come at you like a déjà vu, that you see with the familiarity when Jaehyun laid on the bed by your drawing desk while everyone’s gone. However at the present moment, he has his shirt removed, revealing numerous tattoosㅡan ornate cross with wings from his throat that stops between his jugular notch, tarot cards of the Sun and the Moon clad on the left side of his rib cage, a gun on his pelvic which was pointed to his groin.

His body is beautiful as it is, muscles of a Greek god that seems almost unreal.

“C'mon, don't be scared.”

The tool in your gloved hand which you were more than familiar with its assembly, feels so much different when you're going for the real deal, despite practicing it couple of times on apples and pears.

With thick, hesitating articulation, you put the question which your eyes asked mutely, into words: “Are you sure about this…”

“I’ve never doubted my decisions and it’s not like you’re gonna stab my insides with the needle, unless that’s what you’re intended.”

“Now that you’ve mentioned, I’m more towards the idea of it.”

You weren’t in a rush for the hands-on experience though, while Jaehyun thinks otherwise. He even listed out the many reasons that manipulated you into the current situation. Whether it was made up or not, you find it hilarious when he said he’s uncomfortable working on female areas that are labelled as body boundaries. Aren’t those what the ladies want in the first place? You just have to poke fun of him. But what are the chances for them to walk in and tell it straight to their faces that they want their vagina or nipples tatted when the studio is crowded with fine men.

“Just do it exactly how you practiced and I’ll guide you,” he assures.

You draw a breath and will a note of confidence into your voice, “Alright.”

Your back hunched over as you lean on the edge of the bed, fingers lightly pressing on the patch of skin just above the waistband of his Calvin Klein underwear. Purple colored stencil of a lipstick print mark works as a combination of visual simplicity and detailed lines to achieve greater realism.

You tighten your fingers on the barrel, trembling slightly when the needle vibrates at a consistent speed upon pressing the footswitch. You begin with drawing in the outlines, taking a good amount of time due to your inexperience. The first lines are often most painful as the needles need to penetrate deeper to create distinct lines but Jaehyun doesn’t budge or flinch, as if it was nothing. Well, it isn’t, if it were to be compared with the ones that are done on certain parts of his body closer to the bone.

To be frank, there’s a slight discomfort during the process. When you pull back to wipe the skin with a sanitized wipe to clean away any extra ink, he fakes a dramatic yelp and wince. Immediately you drop everything onto the utility cart, glancing over at him in concern. “I’m so sorry, does it hurt very bad? You should tell me to stop.”

“I’m only kidding,” he says, laughing a bit. “Relax, you’re doing great. Try not to press too hard and remember to pause between few seconds.”

Once the outlines have been drawn, you concentrate on shading and coloring. This time there’s no pain, just a slight tickle. Jaehyun watches your intense eyes on his skin, the needle steady in your hand. The red ink flowed down the syringe as the design gradually forms its shape.

The session took longer than usual as it is your first. Staring at the tattoo for a moment, he gives you a nod of approval. Surprisingly the end result looks better than you’ve imagined and you couldn’t hide your glee, bursting with joy over your achievement.

“You good?”

“Content.” He sits up and throws his legs over the side of the bed, eyes glued to the back of your head.

“Now that you’ve left a mark on me-”

You listen carefully, slipping the rubber gloves off your hands and tossing them into a bin.

There's something in his voice of the authoritative tone, something which has the effects of flawlessly circular pancakes, perfectly swirled ice-cream cones or a truly seedless watermelon.

“It’s my turn.”

Without a warning, an arm loop around your waist from behind, then draw you against him. The warmth of his breath heats your delicate skin when he runs his nose along the side of your neck. He takes a whiff of the fragrance you sprayed on earlier and boldly leaves a trail of open mouth kisses, enjoying your gasps.

“Jaehyun,” you mutter weakly, but you have no idea what you’re going to say next. His mouth closes over a spot behind your ear and all you can do is melt into the pleasure.

To finally be wrapped in his strong arms feel heavenly, and if you thought you have any strength to resist before, it has now been obliterated. You lean back, sinking into the seductive caress. He tightens his grip affectionately, filling you with a deep, needy longing.

“God, I want you.” He groans impatiently, gently biting on your neck with the obvious intention of descending further.

Turning your body to face his, he pulls you flush against his bare torso. You pray you won’t swoon when he touches you, because you’ve been obsessing about him and his kisses for too long.

Incredibly, he presses his lips onto yours fully for several seconds before taking it up a notch. It was nothing like the kisses you had before, so desperate and urgent. His tongue seeks entrance and you open to him, angling your face to allow him total access. His hands found themselves in the back pocket of your jeans, squeezing the solidity of your cheeks.

Many minutes passed, you aren’t sure for how long but you’re beginning to feel lightheaded when he has literally taken your breath away. Jaehyun pulls back just in time and his lips move onto the column of your neck. His large hands massage their way up either side of your body until they found your breasts. With his thumb, he rubs a tantalizing circle around your nipple over the fabric of your shirt. The sensual shivers wrack your body as each kiss heightens your sensitivity to his touch. Sweet, hot desire shot through and you moan.

Your middle soared to life, and the moisture between your legs grew.

You’ve worn a tank top, granting him free access to your bare skin all the way to the upper swell of your breasts. He takes advantage of it, pressing small, nibbling kisses all over and tasting with the very tip of his tongue. Splotches of red and purple bloom at his wake, your body as a canvas to his vandalism.

“Please,” you whisper, begging for more. Your fingers curling into his thick tousled hair, tugging on the roots with a little force. A small, animal-like sound of need, passes through your lips when his mouth hovers just above your skin.

“Easy, princess.” He laughs softly. “I want to take my time with you.”

His hand finds the hem of your top, pulling it over your head until your bra-encased breasts are revealed.

“Gorgeous. So beautiful. All for me.”

Words became lost in your throat. You’re too busy experiencing the way he laves your cleavage with his tongue. It feels like you can come right then, without any further preliminaries.

Jaehyun kisses on your mouth again, a hand moving its way down your body, undoing the button of your jeans. You shudder uncontrollably when his fingers dip into your laced underwear without warning, reaching your sex. Brushing through your folds, seeking and finding that nub that brings you ecstasy. His thumb plays across the swollen wet flesh of your clitoris, caressing, teasing.

“Oh my…” you gasp, and soften against him when he touches you deeper. The slickness of your arousal spreading his skillful fingers. “You’re so good at this.”

Devilish laugh resonates in your ear. As he kisses and nibbles your neck, a finger slides deep into your body, grinding the heel of his hand against your most sensitive spot. And he adds another. Then, a third.

“Baby, you’re taking me so well.” He curls his fingers, rubbing your walls and pushing them further to reach the spot that could make your eyes roll back in your head.

Hot breath fanning your cheeks when he inches closer, whispering lowly in your ears, “I can’t wait to bury myself inside you.”

In a few short moments, you feel yourself on the verge of a climax as his fingers work expertly, flickering over the nub. His thrusts picking up pace, ramming harder like he’s going to destroy you.

“Let go,” he prods.

Soon, like a command, the building tension explodes and you cry out his name and arch against him.

When all the explosive sensation subsided, you find it difficult to look at him in case he looks smug, you won’t be able to handle it.

However there’s an urge within you, that you want to touch him, you need to. Blindly, you lean forward, kissing anything you come into contact with—his forehead, his eyelids, his cheeks. Your lips travel south until you reach the fresh tattoo, and pressing a gentle kiss on it.

The permanent ink of your lips that you left on him.

A smile makes its way on your face as you stare at your work in admiration, satisfaction, with accomplishment. The idea of it was endearing, an indication where the man before you, is yours.

You may have found your new addiction.

[bapydemonprincess]

Meet the Parents

HELLO EVERYONE! Hope you’re having a happy last day of 2019, cause I sure am!! The past couple days me and @grelleswife have been working together on this story! >w<

It’s about my dear gloomy boi Ambrose and his new companion Eddie that we’ve developed together.

This story takes place months after Ambrose forming the contract with the demon, and when he finally decided it was time to try and fix this mess, for the little corvus found himself regretting this at every turn.. as his bond with the demon grew.

It was time to seek out help from higher powers, thus throwing caution to the wind and heading back to his family’s home to introduce Eddie to the other demon in his life: His Mother.

Hope you all enjoy this!!! Because @grelleswife and I had a LOT of fun making it!! 🖤🖤🖤🖤

Ambrose was constantly shouting at himself in his mind as he drove himself and his companion across country to his family’s home.

“You’ve gone mad, haven’t you?” It went on. “First you contacted a demon, contracted the demon, and now that you’ve known the demon for- what, a couple months, you want to take the demon home to your family. TO YOUR HALF DEMONIC FAMILY.”

But Ambrose kept driving, already knowing they were nearing the family’s property, and recognizing every little detail and tree and just slowly spiralling into a little panic attack.’

“Hey, now..” Came a voice from the side, quiet and understanding as always. “I can practically smell your sweat, you know. It’s okay, Ambrose. I’m sure things won’t go as bad as you may think they will..” A brief chuckle. “I mean, I’ve gotten used to acting human and living like a human, so I’m sure I can pull off a visit with your family.”

Ambrose didn’t respond. Couldn’t respond. He knew he had dug his own grave, now. He knew he’d likely dug Eddie’s grave too. This.. this poor young demon, who merely thought this was just going to be a “meet the parents” scenario like any other time in any media you can imagine, had no idea the dumb mortal he’d made a dumb contract with was actually bringing him to likely get insta- killed by an even more POWERFUL demon.

Mum had explained “demon ranks” years ago one time. The memory was very vague, but there was definitely a lot hanging on a demon’s power as well as some kind of title.

And if his Demon Mother could commit feats like stopping a train with just one hand, or put a dent in a heavily armored tank with just one finely dressed shoe, then Ambrose was most certain he/she was a goddamn powerhouse in their own right. And the chances of said powerhouse even KNOWING about his current predicament with this other demon, who likely could NOT do anything like what they could, made surviving this whole day very, very unlikely.

Ambrose almost wished he could fast forward to the “getting killed by Mum” part and just go on with his afterlife..

Oh, but here they were, at the driveway. Nothing looked any different than it had the many million times he’d come back.

And it wasn’t the first time he’d even brought someone new home, either.

It was just.. a few minor differences, like say this one was gonna.. y'know, take his soul at one point (again, if he survived this) and all because he wanted some goddamn demon powers.

His foot slammed on the break halfway through the driveway. There was only a few meters left.. but SOMETHING finally spoke up in his brain and body and did the “hopefully” smart thing!

Eddie slightly jolted in the passenger seat, eyes widening in shock at the sudden halt, when they could tell themselves that they were so close!

“Um, what was that for?”

“We can’t go in.”

“… Why not?”

“Eddie, just trust me. We cannot go in.” Ambrose’s words were coming out sharper, faster. He wasn’t able to move; not even just his eyes to look over at the demon.

“Then why did we even come here, Ambrose?”

“I DON’T KNOW, OKAY, I just- I made a dumb choice. I came up with a dumb idea! I do it all the time, Eddie!”

“Ah, Ambrose-”

“I know, I know this looks bad, but listen, you have NO IDEA how bad it REALLY, REALLY IS, EDDIE!”

“Ambrose..”

“I mean it’s SO BAD, I know for a fact that the minute we go up to that door, BEFORE we can EVEN knock on it–”

“AMBROSE!”

“WHAT, EDDIE??”

Ambrose finally snapped his head around to glare at the demon while he seethed and panicked, feeling like this one time his panic was justified in every sense of the word, when.. he finally managed to focus on Eddie, who was staring ahead at something, and merely lifting a hand to point at it. And Eddie himself looked like he now had something to fear, too.

And as Ambrose turned his head again to look up ahead at whatever it was, his brain kind of had already began realizing.

What he’d predicted in his ramble that would happen.. was already beginning before they’d even stepped outside the vehicle itself.

Up ahead and at the end of the fresh, bright green lawn, standing on the front steps in front of the front door, was none other than Sebastian Michaelis.

Standing there.

Watching.

Waiting.

Both youths in the vehicle remained seated, staring back, frozen in place like two little wild creatures that knew, above all else, that a predator was right before them, and it would only take one single movement for the predator to be on them.

The threatening personage standing before them outwardly resembled a mortal man, but Eddie knew the truth that lay beneath the deadly beauty of his exterior. That aura…he hoped in vain that he was mistaken, but there no denying the grim reality. This was another demon, far older and more powerful than he, with a commanding presence that could readily hold sway over lesser spirits. Such indomitable strength…by the nine circles, that demon must be one of the Diabolical Gentry!

“W-why didn’t you tell me that one of your parents belonged to hell’s nobility?” Eddie squeaked out, barely forcing the words from his trembling lips. Ambrose didn’t possess a scrap of demonic power—that was why Eddie had been summoned by his irascible master to begin with. Still, Eddie couldn’t believe that he’d failed to pick up on Ambrose’s heritage. Was he that weak and naïve? Why hadn’t Ambrose trusted him with this secret? However, any hurt and shame that Eddie normally would have felt were promptly supplanted by an overpowering terror. Like all demons, Eddie well knew the taste of fear, the delicious tang it lent to cursed souls, but he’d never truly experienced it himself. This was akin to torture, every fiber of his human body screaming Danger! Danger! even while his consciousness grappled with the fact that there was no escape.

“My family’s too damn complicated,” Ambrose stuttered. His face had gone chalk-white, far exceeding his usual pallor.

The next thing they knew, the car doors were ripped off the automobile, and black tentacles snaked around the two youths. Eddie screamed like a wounded hare as he was hoisted aloft. The other demon’s tentacles tightened around his waist and encircled his arms and legs like manacles before making their way to his throat, choking the young demon with merciless brutality.

The elder demon snarled, flashing their sharp white fangs. “I’ll only ask this once, scum. What the hell is your business with my child?”

Tears of pain sprang to Eddie’s eyes as he glanced furtively at Ambrose, whom the demon had drawn close to himself like a mother hen sheltering her chicks. Wouldn’t revealing their contract be considered a betrayal of his master? Though his false lungs screamed for air, Eddie clenched his teeth and remained silent. If this is to be my final hour, I won’t defile our covenant with my cowardice.

The other demon’s eyes blazed crimson in their fury, and he bent Eddie’s limbs until the bones creaked dangerously. A little more effort on his part, and they’d snap like twigs. “Answer me!”

“J-just t-t-tell him, Eddie!” Ambrose cried, whirling around to face the captive demon. For the first time since he’d made Ambrose’s acquaintance, the white-haired corvus looked panic-stricken. “Don’t hurt him, Mum! Please!!!”

“Mas…ter…” Eddie croaked, grimacing in agony.

The other demon stiffened, and his gaze darted to the white seal on Eddie’s left hand.

“You…contracted…with my son?” he whispered. Somehow, the softness was more far frightening than his earlier roar. Incredulity, horror, anguish, and grief raced across his face in rapid succession.

The demon swiveled his head to look at Ambrose, who shook uncontrollably. “Show it to me.”

Ambrose stood rooted in place.  

“SHOW IT TO ME!!!” the demon roared, his expression contorted in agony. Despite his current predicament, Eddie couldn’t help but feel a measure of sympathy. After all, what parent would want their child to sell their soul to a devil?

Meekly, Ambrose pulled off his right glove and showed the back of his hand to his demonic parent, displaying the seal emblazoned thereon. The boy hung his head, but the demon grabbed him by the chin, staring into those gray eyes as if trying to divine the secrets of a lost language.

“What have you done, kitten?!”

Wheeling around to face Eddie, the demon growled, “Contracts be damned. While I still live, no one will lay a hand on my children. You are vermin, less than nothing, compared to one such as I, and I will end this here and now.”

“NO!!! Leave Eddie alone!!!” Ambrose screamed, struggling helplessly against the tentacles that still bound him.

Just at that moment, two people burst out of the house, presumably summoned by the present commotion. Their attire and dark skin reminded Eddie of the mortals who hailed from East India. One of them was a tall, vigorous man with white hair and a hand swathed in bandages. Eddie instinctively flinched at the power emanating from him…divine power. The other person appeared somewhat younger, closer to Ambrose’s age, with black hair and gentle, carmine eyes. They also sported dark, feathered wings, a little tail, and a small pair of horns, and their aura baffled Eddie. He immediately sensed their demonic energy, but they also bore the same heavenly light as the man did. He’d never met anyone like this. Of course, Eddie’s mind was largely preoccupied with his imminent demise.

“Sebastian, what’s the meaning of this?” the man gasped, staring at the flailing Eddie.

“Mama, please let that demon go!” the younger one begged, clutching at Sebastian’s arm. “We should discuss this peacefully!”

“There is nothing to discuss now except how I will destroy this insignificant little imp of a demon and sever their sorry attempt to steal Ambrose’s soul!”

“MUM, DON’T! PLEASE DON’T!!!”  Ambrose found himself shrieking at the top of his lungs, even as he felt his throat burning, his panic rising to levels so high, he was barely aware of what he was doing when he managed to somehow rip through his mother’s grip on him, and practically tackled the tentacle covered young demon.

“Ambrose’s soul?” Agni repeated quietly, still staring and trying to put everything together, but not having enough time before seeing his youngest son grapple the younger demon along with Sebastian’s tentacles. “By the Gods! Ambrose!” He immediately shouted in alarm, knowing for sure what his husband had been about to do with those tentacles; It wasn’t the first time he’d seen them in action, after all.

Aarushi was covering their mouth in horror, but unable to look away, eyes shrinking to tiny beady red dots.

And Sebastian was snarling even more, looming in on the two now in one spot, his whole form almost all inky black, except for his bared long fangs and his glowing, seething eyes…

“Get off the little wastrel at once, Ambrose.” He commanded in a mildly low simmer, but his voice warping to a deep growl all the same. “We will discuss your idiocy in this in a minute, but for now I have to remove the source.”

Ambrose lifted his head from keeping it resting- no shielding Eddie, and his dark stormy eyes glared up at the elder demon hanging over him, filled with a familiar anger.. a feeling almost close to hatred itself, but not quite. He felt the little demon in his grasp and under the dark inked tentacles start shaking violently. He recalled Eddie bringing up briefly something about sensing others emotions, especially certain ones that stood out the most.. Perhaps like say, whatever the hell it was he was feeling currently.

“No.” He simply snapped out. “I- I will not move until you BACK OFF and let me actually EXPLAIN, Mother! So- So if you wanna rip someone up, you’ll have to take me as well!”

This response immediately had the demon physically jerking back, another snarl leaving his mouth.

Sebastian didn’t speak again for even longer, slit pupils just taking in the entire scene before him of his precious kitten SHIELDING a demon whom he’d agreed to a contract to, thus giving away his SOUL. His LIFE.

It was catching up to him now.. however long Ambrose had known this demon, had been contracted with this demon, their bond had CLEARLY grown in that small window, and now… now….

Ambrose noticed even more tentacles rising, and even the entire front lawn growing dim.. the sun itself had entirely vanished…

Fuck, I’m DEAD. He immediately thought, but all he could do was squeeze the lump he’d been clinging to the past few minutes, wishing he could say something to the demon. Something like “I’m here, I’ve got you” or “I’m so sorry” or maybe something like “It’s been actually nice getting to know you for the past few months… Eddie..”

“Am… brose..?” He heard Eddie hiss out, and cracked open his eyes. Wait.. had he said that last part out loud?? Shit.. WAIT! Ambrose finally noticed the tentacles were GONE and.. he was just hugging EDDIE!!

Ambrose peeked back up at his Mum and the others, and saw once again his mother had returned to his human male form, not just a black inky silhouette anymore.

But that didn’t mean he was any less scary right now.. Oh no, Sebastian was absolutely livid as he still remained in that spot, but with his shoulders up, and his hands curled into such tight fists. His teeth had shrank a bit, but he still bared them all the same, and those eyes… oh nothing had changed about those.

“You wanted to explain, then explain, Ambrose.” Sebastian uttered, voice still quite low.

Now they all stood there on the front steps expectantly; Mum, Dad, and even Goddamned Aarushi, who Ambrose shoulda KNOWN would be visiting here by some fluke as well. After all, Aarushi had no qualms with returning to their family a lot more often than Ambrose…

“Alright.. okay..” Ambrose finally breathed out, and slowly, gradually, pulled away from Eddie, who he was also surprised hadn’t passed out by now.

“Look, a.. couple months ago, after um, having a really.. pretty bad day, I went to a local old book store that had popped up in the area, and just thought of looking around and finding anything to help feel better! That’s all… Then- then I happened upon a book that went like “Various Rituals for Everyday Use” and, I thought- I dunno, I’d just read it for the hell of it!”

As he took a pause, he noticed the various changes in his family’s face… Both Father and Aarushi having looks of surprise and almost fascination, though Aarushi kept that constant look on of concern for their younger sibling in place as well. And Mum was… well, obviously he needed to keep going or else things would just go back to the doom and tentacles again.

“So after going through most of it, I came upon apparently what was some kind of easy, “modern” way to contact a demon with no mess! Y-you know, like with a ritual sacrifice or something..” Ambrose trailed off, losing steam as he recalled certain stories that had similar situations.. BUT he REALLY didn’t want to dwell on that yet! NOT YET!! “All it took was a piece of paper, and writing out why I wanted a demon, and what I wanted from them, and to sign my name in my blood before putting the paper in an open, natural spot. So I went a bit outside town to a nature reserve forest I liked going to, and just put it on a tree stump and waited..”

“A piece of paper.. on a tree stump.. in a forest.” Sebastian was repeating now, eyes trailing off to look out into space while he processed this.

“Ye- Yeah.” Ambrose got out, sort of starting to slouch where he stood as realization took hold on how utterly stupid this all sounded. He then noticed Eddie at his side turn more towards him, looking like he wanted to reach out and touch Ambrose, comfort him while he tried to tell this totally unbelievable story…Just don’t, He tried to telepathically tell him. Just don’t bother, Eddie. I know I’m a dumbass. I’m just trying here.

Seeing his master look so frail and pitiful—so alone—made Eddie want to wrap him up in that human gesture called a “hug.” However, Ambrose’s demeanor and the amalgamation of fear, embarrassment, and anger brewing inside him suggested that this might not be the best strategy. Instead, Eddie shyly moved his left hand toward Ambrose’s right until they were almost (though not quite) touching, and decided to jump in to spare his master further humiliation.

“A-and that’s how I was summoned!” he squeaked, trembling as three pairs of eyes turned towards him. The elder demon (Ambrose’s “mum”) glowered balefully, but the other two (Ambrose’s father and sibling?) looked curious, albeit concerned. “The ritual wasn’t especially potent, but I’m…well, rather weak, so it was enough to help me make the crossing over to the mortal world,” Eddie continued haltingly. “I hadn’t contracted since Queen Victoria’s reign, and I was curious about how much time had passed and what changes had occurred since then. Then I met Ambrose, and he said that he’d brought me here because he wanted demonic power.”

“Oh no, Ambrose!” his sibling cried, bringing their hands to their mouth, tears glistening in their eyes. While visibly distressed, Ambrose’s parents didn’t seem surprised. “Not this again, kitten,” the demon muttered in despair. Eddie blinked, taken aback. It was almost like they’d expected his master to make this specific wish. Ambrose slouched lower, his eyes downcast. Unable to resist the impulse any longer, Eddie grabbed his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. The corvus shot him a startled look, but he didn’t reprimand Eddie or jerk his hand away. His curmudgeonly tendencies had been subdued by the frightening experience they’d just endured.

“S-so when Ambrose told me his wish, I offered to serve him for as long as he desired,” the young demon stumbled on.

Ambrose’s mother scoffed. “You expect me to believe that there were no other stipulations to this contract of yours?” he spat.

“W-well…um…not really,” Eddie said bashfully. “I haven’t had many contracts, and I want to learn as much I can, experience as much as I can! And serve my master to the best of my abilities and…just have someone to talk to. As I said earlier, I’m not terribly strong, so other demons either pass me by or treat me cruelly.”

The older demon stared at him and shook his head in disbelief. “You truly are an amateur.”

Eddie blushed, and Ambrose scowled. “It’s not his fault, Mum. Eddie’s made some mistakes, but he tries his best!”

Eddie brightened. His master could be dour and gloomy, which made the demon fret that he wasn’t doing a good enough job. But now Ambrose was praising him!

“It’s because he deserves my best!” Eddie blurted out. “My other masters treated me like a thing that they could torment and kick around at whim, or a mindless tool to achieve their wicked goals, but Ambrose made me feel like a person. We’ve watched movies and browsed antiques shops together. He can be cross with me at times, but he’s never laid a hand on me. I love reading to him or just talking to him—he’s awfully clever, I’m sure you know that, bloody brilliant! A-and he gave me presents of my very own! My glasses…and this pocketwatch.”

Fumbling for a moment (as he was still holding on tight to Ambrose’s hand), Eddie removed what had become his most prized possession from his front pocket. The other demon drew in a sharp intake of breath, pain flickering for a moment in those ruby-red eyes.

Oh no. Maybe Eddie shouldn’t have done that. Had he unwittingly accepted a family heirloom from his master?

“Am-ambrose is the best master I’ve ever had,” Eddie plunged ahead, feeling overwhelmed by his devotion to the pale, sad youth and the maelstrom of emotions raging within Ambrose’s soul. “I’d do anything for him, even die for him. It hurts me when I how lost and angry he is, and…and I just want to make him smile!” To Eddie’s bewilderment, his eyes burned with tears. He still wasn’t completely used to inhabiting a human body, and he supposed mortal forms more readily reflected the inner workings of the heart. Ambrose had flushed pink, while the rest of his family gazed at Eddie in silence.

“I know I’ll have to eat his soul whenever he’s finished with me, b-but I don’t want to,” Eddie whispered brokenly. He thought about how Ambrose had tried to shield him from his mother’s wrath. ‘If you wanna rip someone up, you’ll have to take me as well!’ The little demon put his head on Ambrose’s shoulder, shaking uncontrollably. “He’s precious to me.”

“Enough!” the other demon cried, with the same pained, haunted look in his eyes as when he’d seen the pocketwatch.

You didn’t grow attached to your prey. That was one of the cardinal rules by which all demons abided. What point was there in caring for a soul that you would devour? But, against his better judgement, and without being aware of it until it was too late, Sebastian had gotten attached to the deeply wounded but indomitable Earl of Phantomhive. The watch this “Eddie” now had in his possession was a poignant reminder of the vanished past, of the child to whom Sebastian had been not merely butler, but sword, shield, teacher…father.

In a different way, the feeble, naïve imp had apparently bonded with Ambrose, who sat in stunned silence while Eddie wept against his shoulder. Sebastian still wanted to obliterate this demon from existence, but his heart was torn by the grief of which Eddie had gotten a foretaste—the unbearable pain of destroying what you have come to love.

“Moonlight,” Agni’s voice broke the silence eloquently, stepping up to be near his husband again as he enveloped the demon’s clenched fist in his own hand. He lifted it to his lips and kissed it right there as he looked into his husband’s pained expression, and knew without a doubt exactly what Sebastian was feeling after he too had seen that familiar pocketwatch. “Please, let’s go inside and sit down. We can all discuss this further once we’ve all settled in.” He looked over at the two young men across the way (though the former khansama had an inkling the demon was not always a man), and smiled warmly to them, trying to show as much as he could in the little time he had that he himself welcomed them here no matter what was going on currently. “Perhaps we can serve up some tea as well. You still love my chai tea, right Ambrose? Does your friend drink any as well?”

Ambrose ran a hand back through his hair, taking a deep breath in and then out, trying to will his face to cool down from going so red! “Um, well he usually just makes me the tea and uh, drinks whatever I’m drinking, so.. Eddie?” He asked the other by his side, and after a pause, slightly twitched his shoulder to get the demon’s attention too. He knew Eddie was still aware, but he’d likely become a little overwhelmed after that bout of crying.. And as awkward as it was currently to just stand there and let the demon weep on him, especially after he’d.. basically poured whatever kind of heart he had out in front of Ambrose’s family, Ambrose didn’t want to turn harsh or let his discomfort get to him. No, not this time. He staved it off in favor of just trying to pep the demon up gently.

They were not out of this yet, after all.

Meanwhile, across the way, Aarushi had taken a loud breath out. A sigh of deep relief that their brother was still intact, as well as their new companion. They’d only just MET, after all, and despite the predicament their brother had gotten into, Aarushi wanted to get acquainted with this young demon! It was rare to meet another demon, after all. From all of Aarushi’s knowledge, they were always dangerous, no matter who you were, and it was best to just stay away!

But to meet one around their age or even younger maybe?? That certainly sounded like fun! If… Mama would allow it.. hopefully..

—

While Agni busied himself with preparing the tea, Eddie and the rest of the family seated themselves around the dining room table. Sebastian noted that Eddie was still holding Ambrose’s hand and was tempted to make an acerbic comment, but he decided to let that pass…for now. Ambrose himself looked exhausted to the point of collapse. Parental instinct took over, and Sebastian reached out to smooth his mussed-up hair.

“Mum, you’re embarrassing me,” Ambrose hissed, his face turning blotchy red.

“Sorry, kitten,” Sebastian sighed. It always pained him when his child spurned displays of affection, but the realization that Ambrose’s days might be numbered rubbed salt in the wound.

“Ambrose, you know Mama’s just like that,” Aarushi chided gently. Ambrose rolled his eyes but said no more. In spite of his present anxiety, Sebastian smiled. Ever the peace-maker, little Aaru, truly their father’s child.

Turning to Eddie, Aarushi asked, “What kind of demon are you, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“I don’t mind,” Eddie stammered, huddling closer to Ambrose. “Um…I suppose I’m what you’d call an imp. One of the lowest ranks. N-no title, or anything of that sort.” The little demon’s gaze darted timidly to Sebastian. Both demons were aware that Eddie was hopelessly outclassed. A few gruesome seconds, and Sebastian could easily remove that contract seal from his kitten’s right hand…

“That’s okay! Titles aren’t everything,” Aarushi said reassuringly. “What really matters is who you choose to be.” Eddie blinked and stared at them—a common reaction to Aarushi’s kindness. Sebastian himself still marveled at having brought such a softhearted child into the world.

Their black wings flapped cheerfully. “Oh! I’ve been so rude! I never actually introduced myself to you. I’m Ambrose’s older sibling, Aarushi,” they chirped. “Father’s human, but the goddess Kali blessed him with her power. Mama’s a demon, as…as I’m sure you figured out by now.” Their bright red eyes fixed Sebastian in a sad, reproachful look. Aarushi abhorred violence, and Sebastian reflected ruefully that they might scold him for his behavior when they were in private.

“Mama and Father met and fell in love while Mama was on contract. Later, they got married and settled down here to raise a family!” Eddie’s mouth formed a surprised little “o.” Such unions were practically unheard of in hell.

“I had no idea!” Eddie exclaimed. “It’s just…Ambrose is mortal, so I naturally assumed…”

Sebastian glanced over and saw a dark scowl twist his younger child’s face. “It’s complicated,” Sebastian interjected smoothly. The story of how Hannah had stripped an infant Ambrose of his demonic powers to save his life remained a painful one, and they had enough troubles with which to contend. Right on cue, Agni emerged, bearing five steaming cups of chai.

In an attempt to change the subject, the demon brought the chitchat to a close. “But enough of that. We need to concentrate on the matter at hand—what to do about this contract.” Agni seated himself next to Sebastian and placed a hand over his. Just having his husband present made the demon relax. They would fix this. He’d been one hell of a butler in his day, and they would fix this.

Sipping his tea, Sebastian’s mind raced through centuries of knowledge on diabolical covenants. “There are a limited number of outcomes that a contract may have, the most common of which involves the demon devouring the contractee’s soul,” he began slowly. His throat closed up on the last words, and pictures of Ambrose’s dismembered, bloodied corpse rose unbidden to his mind. Agni squeezed his hand comfortingly. Have courage. I’m here, the gesture seemed to say. Not wanting the younger demon to sense his distress, Sebastian continued resolutely. “However, Eddie has indicated that he no longer wants Ambrose’s soul for this purpose.”

“No! Never!” the demon shook their head emphatically, gazing at Ambrose with an open adoration that made the young man blush.

“One means of forestalling this outcome is to kill the demon or demons involved, which renders the contract null and void.”

Ambrose’s eyes flashed fire. “Mum…” he growled. At the same time, Agni pleaded, “Now, moonlight…” and Aarushi begged, “But Eddie’s nice, Mama!”

Sebastian leaned back in his chair with a sigh. “Calm yourselves. I could do so if I wished, but it appears I am outnumbered.”

After a brief silence, Eddie plaintively asked, “What else can be done?”

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed pensively. “That depends on the phrasing of this particular contract. Do you recall exactly what you and Ambrose said when you formed the covenant?”

“That Eddie would lend me his power for as long as I desired, that he would serve me faithfully to the fullest extent of his abilities, and that he could claim my soul when our contract came to an end,” Ambrose jumped in. Eddie nodded. “Yes, that’s right!”

Relief rushed through Sebastian. He could work with this. Cocking an eyebrow, he remarked, “Kitten, it’s fortunate that you summoned an inexperienced imp. Most of us would never agree to such vague terms. ‘For as long as I desire!’ You could stretch the contract out for the duration of your lifespan!”

Both Eddie and Ambrose looked mortified. “Sheesh. I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly. Like I said earlier, I’d had a bad day,” Ambrose grumbled. “And how was Eddie supposed to know this stuff?”

“In this case, your blunders might literally be your salvation. We can find a few loopholes, I think,” Sebastian winked. An idea—admittedly, an outlandish one—began to piece itself together.

“Eddie, are you quite sure that you said you would claim Ambrose’s soul when the contract ended? You didn’t include any words that specifically alluded to eating?”

“Yes, that’s correct,” Eddie replied.

“You’ve thought of something!” Aarushi exclaimed happily, eyes shining. “I know you have, Mama!”

“It’s risky, but I might have a solution. When demons speak of claiming a soul, it’s generally understood to refer to the act of soul-eating. However, an ancient, much less common use of this phrase describes a ritual in which a human soul is transformed into a demonic entity.”

Everyone around the table froze.

“That’s impossible, Mum,” Ambrose whispered.

“Exceedingly difficult and fraught with risk. Not impossible, kitten,” Sebastian corrected him. “It can be done, but only if various conditions have been met. The human must be allowed to reach the end of their life peacefully, dying of natural causes. Otherwise, the trauma of having the soul ripped from the body will doom the ritual to failure. The human in question must agree to be changed of their own free will. Ideally, their soul should also have some prior connection to us. This is certainly true in Ambrose’s case. In addition to being a contractee, he’s my son, and one of the Matriarchs already had to alter his soul in his infancy.”

“It’s a long story,” he added after seeing the look of curiosity on Eddie’s face.

“I-I don’t think I’m strong enough to complete a ritual like that…” the young demon said apprehensively.

“You don’t have to be. Our family is on good terms with that particular Matriarch, and she’d lend you her power. In fact, a Matriarch’s presence is required for this type of ceremony. They’re the founders of our race, after all, and their brand of magic is crucial. Even then, success won’t be guaranteed, I fear. We’d be interfering with the natural order of things, and there are always consequences to that. Not to mention that other demons might try to foil our efforts if they caught wind of it.”

Sebastian’s eyes burned scarlet with determination. “But I will go to any lengths to save my child, even desperate ones.”

The surprise and awe around the table lingered a little further, only small noises coming forth, such as Aarushi’s audible choked gasp and the soft noise of Agni kissing his husband’s hand once again as he looked only at him with such pride and relief. A look that clearly said “I knew you would think of something.”

And then Ambrose was lifting his head, his chest noticeably rising and falling as well as he took in this plan, and all it implied.

“M… Mum..” He was only able to get out, before a choked sob made it through, and a tear finally visibly rolled down his left cheek. “You… you would… you would l-let me..?”

“Ambrose…” Aarushi was squeaking out now, seeing their brother in such a state immediately affecting them. And instantly Aarushi was getting up to to go to his other side, wrapping arms around him and holding on tight.

And for once the young man didn’t struggle from the sudden hold, his mind and body still locked down as he stared on at his mother, whom he’d stubbornly rebelled against for years, whom he’d run away from within a moment’s notice. A part of him simply wanted to deny it. After all, there WAS so much time between then and now. An entire lifetime of waiting.. an entire lifetime for something else to come up. For his mother to change their mind and hunt them down and sever Eddie to pieces, if the mood hit them.

But across the way, in this strange and rare moment, Ambrose saw and actually felt his demon mother’s tender gaze on him.. Telling him all that the ancient demon felt, and had always felt since his birth.

And once again another sob came out, and Ambrose’s head sunk again, his long white hair coming around to cover his face the lower it dipped.

“Thank you… Mum…” He managed to choke out, “… th-thank you.. so much.”

And then he felt a hand cupping the side of his head, he looked up a little, and saw through his hair a tearful Eddie, as the demon tried to get their beloved master and friend to rest his weary head against them this time.

And Ambrose went without complaint, as the tears and sobs kept coming.

And while that happened, Eddie looked back up at his master’s mother and father over the table, and nodded in agreement with what Ambrose had said. There were no other words, truly, for how grateful he was for getting to stay with his master after all this, and get the chance to change the mistakes they had made, to change fate itself for Ambrose.

—

Ambrose eventually calmed down enough for them to all finish their tea, and Agni suggested that he and Eddie stay the night. “It’s been an eventful day, and you two especially need to rest,” he’d urged. Not to mention the matter of Ambrose’s badly damaged car, but Mum could repair that easily enough. Eddie fetched their suitcases, and Ambrose pointed him in the direction of his room. Turning in the hallway, Ambrose nearly ran into his mother. For a moment, the two stood awkwardly, neither knowing what to say. Ambrose was still trying to process what had happened over the past hour. But he suddenly knew that what he needed more than anything right now was to be held. So he did what he’d refused to do for years on end—hug Sebastian and rest his head against his chest. His mother’s arms were around him in an instant, loving and secure. Ambrose found himself crying again, body wracked with quiet sobs. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, not only for today and the whole muddled business with the contract, but for all the years of anger, bitterness, and resentment he’d put his long-suffering mother through.

“There, there,” his mum replied soothingly, stroking his hair with a trembling hand. Impulsively, he clutched Ambrose tighter. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have been that vicious, but you scared the hell out of me, Ambrose. When I saw that seal, the only thing I could think of was that I was going to lose you—"

He broke off, burying his face in Ambrose’s hair. “Watching one of my kittens suffer such a fate is more than I can bear,” his mother whispered.

“But all I’ve ever done is b-be mean and ungrateful…and push you away.”

“You’re still my child, kitten. I’ll always love you, no matter how much you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you!” Looking up with tearful eyes, Ambrose stammered, “I-I love you too, Mum.” His mother’s eyes widened (normally, Ambrose would rather die a slow and painful death than say anything of this sort) before the demon started to purr and gently kissed the top of his head.

Eddie’s voice drifted down the hall. “Ambrose! Are you coming?”

“Just a minute!” Ambrose yelled over his shoulder, sniffling and wiping his eyes with the back of his sleeve.

“I’d best let you go before your demon gets worried,” Mum smiled, smoothing Ambrose’s hair back into place. This time, Ambrose let him.

“You’re sure you’re all right, dear?” Mum asked fretfully as Ambrose turned to go to his room.

“Yeah,” Ambrose replied. To his shock, he found himself smiling, and he felt more content than he had in years or…ever, really. “I think I am.”

[lizziehatter]

Every revealed quote from CTD and the Thomas Novella

Since I cannot wait for the release of both of these and I am going through a Cressworth withdrawal (pls Kerri release this novella soon I beg), I put together all the quotes I know of. PLEASE CRESSWORTHIANS OBSESS OVER THEM WITH ME, I BEG YOU, BECAUSE I TRULY CAN’T WAIT UNTIL SEPTEMBER. Send me asks saying which ones are your favourites, making theories of what the quotes could mean or just freaking out over Cressworth being together in the bath honestly, I’m game for anything.

I - Thomas Novella

1) The opening quote: “The prince of darkness is a gentleman.” (King Lear, Act 3, Scene 4). Not really from Kerri’s writing (hello Shakespeare) but still counts right? 

2) "Blood spilled over my hands in warm, rhythmic torrents. For one drawn out moment, I was frozen, then my world narrowed to an equation. Sterile. Familiar. Calm. The exact opposite of my surroundings." 

3) “I longed to touch her. First her mind, then her heart, and, finally, her body. I wished to own every inch of space between us and fill it with each emotion I’d ever suppressed or pretended away. I wanted to strip my soul bare for only her to see, and then do the same with my clothing, giving her everything I had of me. Scars and all.”

4) “I thought of numerators and denominators and the incalculable way my heart raced as she slowly licked her lips as if she’d deduced the heat blazing through me, destroying my resolve to set her free.”

5)     “Thomas?” she asked, her eyes stubbornly fixed on my mouth. I was finding it hard to think, to breath. She wasn’t aware of it, but when she gave something her attention, the force of it was overwhelming. “Why are you sneaking about this early?” 

         To find salvation from my demons. To stop pacing inside the cage of my room and the fears that threatened to be my undoing. To feel the stinging prickle of snow on my face and forget there wasn’t a cure for my current condition. Her gaze was a palpable caress as she slowly shifted it downward, igniting a deep male need I was startled by. 

         “I’m not sneaking, I’m prowling, Wadsworth.” I gave her a lazy grin. It was an effort to keep my tone casual, to stop myself from trying to kindle her desire too. Though, judging from the longing in her expression, perhaps she’d fanned the flames on her own. “Why are you sneaking about?”

6) “I will not become a monster for you.” 

II - Capturing the Devil

PART 1 - QUOTES FROM THE CHAPTER SAMPLER (the sampler will be revealed at events that Kerri will attend). The sampler is probably 40 pages long, based on what Kerri said on twitter. Each quote follows the number of which page they are from. 

1) “Instead of being terrified of her imminent death and thinking only of darkness, my mother wrote us letters. She wouldn’t survive to see either of us____________" (Somewhere near page 4)

2) “Oh, Thomas. Are you all right?” A single tear slipped down his cheek as he nodded. (Page 4)

3) “A faint image bled through the fabric. I leaned in. “What is that?” He glanced down as if he hadn’t a clue, then shrugged”. (Page 7)

4) “There was a sadness in its face that made me wonder if it was truly an angel. Perhaps it was one of the fallen.” (Page 14)

5) “Do you honestly expect me to address that creature that way? Where did you even find it?” (Page 15)

6) “I thought the gift of my presence was your one true wish,” I said blandly. (page 16)

7) Once they’d left, Liza tapped the image in the magazine again. “Well?” (Page 28)

8) “Why are you smiling like that? I’m trying to have a serious moment and you appear as though you either need to use the loo or have inexplicably sat on an anthill in the middle of my room.” (page 35)

9) This excerpt is also a part of the chapter sampler, but not the ones that Kerri shared on twitter, so I don’t know in which page it’s located. Also, she shared this on her insta story, and parts of it were covered by the text that she wrote on top of the image, so this is my best guess on what was written. The () are the parts I couldn’t read.        

      I lost my futile battle with morality. () like a () who’d discovered his hearts’ deepest () claim it immediately. ()ized his respect for me and my () the only tethers holding him in place. One little nod would unleash him.

      My heart raced as I silently gave him permission, wanting him to touch me again so badly it almost ached. Thomas Cresswell never disappointed. He leaned into me, his body snug between my thighs.

      “Your nightgown is nice, but your lace is what attracts and captivates me.” His gaze travelled from mine, meandering down the road of delicate lace, igniting a new wave of desire as he gripped the sheer fabric at my hip. His touch was scorching. I couldn’t stop myself from arching into it, craving more. “Your body…” 

      His fingers lingered on the ribbons. I enjoyed () the garment and how I felt both bold and soft while wearing it. Thomas seemed to appreciate it for other reasons, and he was no longer masking how much he wanted me. I drew in a ragged breath and fought the urge to completely disrobe him. If he kept looking at me that way, I’d lose control.

      “Your spirit…”

      Thomas dragged his attention down every () leaving no part neglected, his breath hitching the lower (). If looks could consume, he’d just devoured me. 10) Now we know this part and the next are from the chapter sampler as well, thanks to the entire chapter (!) that was released with the cover, so I have moved them here.  “I pulled back and his focus shifted to where my bare shoulders met the water. His gaze darkened in a dangerously seductive manner, awakening a sudden need in me.         “At least be a gentleman and turn around.”         His expression hinted that he was far from a gentleman at the moment, and a quick inspection of my face confirmed I liked it. Excitement thrummed through my veins.” 11)       “My aunt will die from the scandal!”                                Thomas brushed a piece of hair from my face, then slowly moved his lips from my jaw to my ear and back, kissing my bare skin until I was convinced we soaked, unhurt, in a pool of fire, and each of my fears and worries of being caught burned away.                

            “Then we ought to be very quiet.”             He lifted me higher and I stared into his eyes, losing myself in the sensation of running my fingers through his damp hair. He looked at me like I was a goddess—like I was fire and magic and spell work combined in human form. I traced a finger down to his collar, teasing the first button open. I suddenly wanted to see more of him, I needed to. 12) The entire (!) Chapter 14 from CTD, which can be found here. PART II – QUOTES FROM THE REST OF THE BOOK

1) “He repeated my name across my skin like an incantation, his tone as reverent as those praising gods.”  

2) “He brushed his thumb over my lower lip, his voice smooth and alluring in the dim light. ‘If the world thinks we’re heading straight to hell, we might as well enjoy the journey there. I’d much rather dance with the devil than sing with angels. Wouldn’t you?’” 

3) “Before we left for the play you seemed to want—“

“—you, Thomas.” I pulled him to me, silencing his smart mouth with a kiss. 

4)  “I crumpled the letter and fed it through the ornate grate covering the fireplace, watching as its edges shifted from black to orange before fulling catching fire. I waited until it had disintegrated to ash before turning way.” 

5) "Except maybe I’d never been born with the devil in me as he'd suggested. Maybe my monster was more vampiric in nature. I did not crave death, I craved blood." 

6)   “If he wished for a taste of my darkness, I hoped he recalled poison could also be sweet. Sweeter than berry wine and more deadly than oleander. This rose welcomed her thorns, perhaps more-so than her petals.”

7) “__isting until my hands were covered in his sins.”

8) “Love is immortal. Death can neither touch nor steal it. Especially when it’s true."

9) “Who are you?” I asked, only half-jesting.

       He stopped walking. “I am the man who will love you unto forever.” 10) “At some point, we’re all someone’s hero and another’s villain.” 11) I leveled a cold look at him.                  “This isn’t a fairytale. I’m not a white knight or some morally incorruptible prince.”        “If you claimed to be either of those, I’d know one thing for certain.”                    “And that would be?”                  “That you’re a villain and a liar. Same as me.” 12)  “there is nothing in this world, no threat mighty enough to keep me from you.”

[starting-today-you-are-a-writer]

WICKED SAINTS

1.5 stars out of 5 stars

 Summary: Kalyazin and Tranavia have been at war for untold decades, owning to a religious/magical feud where one side claims the other heretics and the other side invaded them for…power? A young woman, Nadya, blessed with powers by the gods flees when her monastery is destroyed by the warrior prince of a nation she is at war with. Running, she bumps into a mysterious blood mage, Malachiasz, and together the two of them plot to end the war between their countries.

 Overall:

 When I first opened the book, it seemed promising. Different viewpoints, an interesting magic system, the main character fleeing everything she had ever known to begin an adventure in the wider world.

 Except the book promised a fearsome cleric, an in depth look at monsters and a prince. And it only delivered on one of those things. Perhaps I was expecting the monsters or villains to be in the vain of Vicious (by VE Schwab) or even ala Forest of a Thousand Lanterns (by Juile C Dao) where characters with understandable motivations but dark ambitions and flaws ultimately struggle with their monstrosity and lose.

 Alas, this book did not even deal with any struggling of monstrosity, or even deal with the concept of monsters outside of “looks like a literal monster” and “betrays people.” But didn’t even examine whether or not “looking like a monster” was necessary or sufficient to be one.

 Not to mention, the cleric wasn’t fearsome, her actions felt contrived and very few characters in the entire novel actually had any clear motivations. The book felt very much like things happened because they were supposed to, instead of because that’s what the characters wanted or would have done. Not to mention the main romance was nonsensical. Sure, there’s enemies-to-lovers. This was not it. It was more like enemy lovers, except not one reason was ever give as to why this guy was appealing, and nothing about him was ever shown, only sometimes told, if that. Nadya felt drawn to her love interest Malachaisz, but not for any reason. Overall the book started strong but fell flat, and felt contrived and unable to hold my suspension of disbelief for even minor events.

Dislikes

Nadya and the Love Interest (Malachiasz)

I could write an essay on the problems here but the basic problem is that Nadya has no motivations, reasoning or rationalization for anything let alone for her attraction to her love interest Malachaisz. She meets him, decides she wants to kill him for being an evil blood mage, but then decides she doesn’t. She had already killed several Tranavian soldiers by this point, many weren’t evil blood mages and none of which brutally betrays her.

 Does she perhaps look at Malachiasz like many a lovelorn hero and think “what measure is a man or a demon? Can I really strike down someone who has not wronged me? Can I lift my blade and execute someone who may be innocent? And how to I think of innocence? He has fled from Tranavia, from a life of evil, is that enough? Is it enough to forsake his country for its evils if he does not embrace the gods? Would he change if only he knew the gods? Do Tranavians even have the chance to know them? With mercy could he change?” Nope! Not only are none of these things thought of, now only are no rationalizations provided for her feelings, but she does not even consider any of those points when she thinks of him or evil. She doesn’t consider his past and how he might have been tortured or not like the ability to use his powers. She doesn’t consider that all heretics are not evil. She doesn’t consider that people can be redeemed. No. Not once does she spend even one second trying to figure out a reason why she doesn’t want to kill him even though she has killed before. She ignores all those things, insists that he is evil and a blood mage and …. doesn’t want to kill him. For some reason.

 Does she even think “wow, with his pretty eyes, and his kindness towards me and his banging body, maybe, I mean, the monastery was very chaste but….”  Does she think this and let her romantic heart speak for her? No. And she doesn’t think this because 1) nothing in his description seems attractive or like she is supposed to find it attractive 2) he is not kind to her. He is not nice to her. He is just mean to her (thought not cruel) 3) the times that seem like they might have sexual tension are always tied up inextricably in violence. But there is no OTHER aspect to him that might seem attractive to her EXCEPT the threat of violence. What I mean by this is she occasionally reflects that he looks sad, or is sad, but there’s no real textual evidence. In the same what that just saying a character is sad when they are laughing, and running about, glib, and seem happy, does not make them sad. So all other aspects of his character ring false EXCEPT that he is violent or has the potential to be. So her only reason to be attracted to him is…that he is violent? Gross.

 Now, likely he was supposed to have other, likeable qualities. But he does not. This is a problem with the characters themselves. Their character traits are often told instead of shown. His actions are almost always glib and argumentative and he really doesn’t take any other actions that that. He does not even rescue a lost dog from the rain as a token gesture of god will. And Nadya despite claiming that he might be lost, does really extrapolate or explain or provide any evidence or think about that. For instance, she could try to Sherlock Holmes his situation and realize he must be sad. But she does not do this. She seems to regurgitate these things like she has another magical power of empathy and can actually read people’s emotions in their heart instead of on sad expressions or through actions, but she does not ever give evidence for her thoughts, opinions or rationalizations for anything.

 In short, their relationship reads like the worst kind of Insta Lova/compulsory heteronormativity, even thought I know this was not the intention of the author. However, Nadya seemed to fall for him just because he is THERE and every time she says anything about him, it seems completely unbelievable, because there’s no textual evidence for it, and ever time she says that she likes him or doesn’t want to kill him it’s just WHHHHHHHHHHHY? Is it “Half of her wanted to kill him, but he was still a person… [insert moral quandary here]” NOPE, we don’t get that. It’s just “half of her wanted to kill him, but half of her didn’t. What were they having for dinner again?” but WHY didn’t she want to kill him? Personal goals and motivations are not things that you withhold form the reader to be clever, they are basic components of characterization.

 This lack of interior reasoning goes beyond just her relationship to this character. Even her plans and actions seem to change without reason. She had a plan. She meets Malachiasz and immediately agrees with his plan to kill the king of her rival country. But why? Does she think it will work? Does she spend one second considering the merit of the plan? Does she try to think of another plan? Does she ask him to elaborate on this? NO. She does whatever Malachiasz says. She sacrifices principles of herself, she does X and Y and Z and there never really feels like a reason for 90% of it. She’s surprised when she gets betrayed, but since she had not reason to trust anyone (she did not posit a reason in her internal monologue for trusting them, let alone have this be supported by the actual actions the characters take!), it falls flat. Her reactions and failure fall flat, because it’s never clear why she has to be doing what she’s doing, what’s at stake if she’s not doing that, why she couldn’t do something better, or why she thinks it’ll work.

 It really was a slog to get through her sections sometimes because there very few scenes where I cared about the stakes because the series of events themselves felt arbitrary.

 Minor Characters and Otherness

The minor characters and plain, forgettable, have no real character or personality traits and clearly serve as props to make whatever point, or facilitate whatever outcome, is supposed to happen at any scene. This becomes very transparent. The characters from the desert country Akola are constantly referred to as Akolans instead of their names even when their race has no point in the scene, and they only exist to like the main Love Interest Malachaisz, but no reason is give as to why they like him, what they want, or their goals or agency. So not only are they flat props to make the Love Interest related and sympathetic, they are also heavily Othered. Not to mention another minor character, Ana, is presented as a Strawman who’s only purpose is to dislike the Love Interest for No Reason so that he seems more relatable and agreeable in comparison. Again, do these characters have motivations? Thoughts? Goals? Personality? No.

 Worldbuilding

In the beginning I felt the world building was fairly good. Each country has distinct language and naming conventions. The differences between the countries respective magic systems seemed intriguing. But as the story went on, not much is learned about Kalyazin other than what was learned in the first few chapters, and only a scattered detail or two is learned about Tranavia. What do they eat in Tranavain? How do they dress? Fine silk? Heavy furs with flower patterns? What are their values outside of blood magic?

The author continuous repeats that Kalyazin is based on fantasy Russia and Tranavia on fantasy Poland but in the novel there feels like no real effort to elaborate and expects the reader to fill in world building with real world Russian or Polish culture. Perhaps that wasn’t her intention, but it comes across that way when no real details about the culture are give outside the very one note religious differences.

 Religion

Speaking of the religious differences, this was something else I thought was interesting at first but quickly disappointed me. The religion conflicts starts off with Kalyazins claiming that magic should come from the gods and that using blood to fuel magic (like the Tranavians do) is heresy and terrible. However, the main character Nadya, never explores this beyond using it as a talking point. Why would it be considered terrible? Because accessing magic is holy and to do so without it being holy is bad? There is something said about how Tranavia is also bad for rejecting the gods, but what really bothered me was that the main character never really thinks deeply about these things. She never examines what she thinks is bad, or what her thoughts are on the war and the gods. She only repeats what she had been told and makes it clear she is doing so, providing no real analysis on her own. For all that she is claimed to be empathetic she does not actually empathize and consider the other position.

 It’s fine for characters not to know something, but if you’re a cleric, you would think you’d spend some time contemplating the morality of what you are doing. Moreover, as the novel progresses Nadya comes into more and more contact with blood magic, but her analysis of the situation never changes, she never stops to think “is it possible for someone to use blood magic if they aren’t evil?” or “is it truly doing evil if you aren’t aware that it’s evil?” Instead, it seems her views seem to shift but there’s no corresponding rationalization or thought as to why. Rather than Character Development it feels more like her Character just slips into something else. This is a recurrent problem with Nadya, but it was something that bothered me on a larger scale. Lip service is paid to characters having different viewpoints on this issue but nothing is ever developed from it.

 Notes on Confusion

A lot of people had complained (I think) that they found the ending confusing, to which the author said that something things were supposed to be confusing. In general I agree that books don’t have to answer every question raised. The magic system didn’t have to be completely explained.

 However the end was confusing in that the prose was literally unclear. The blocking and actions taken by the characters were unclear. It wasn’t “Wait! But I never learned why this happened! How does the magic work! Why would he betray them!” unclear. It was “Wait, is he still in the scene? When it says he “flies up” is he leaving this location or hanging around near the ceiling? What does this sentence mean?” confusing. It was difficult to follow the sequence of events without multiple rereading of lines, and even then it was unclear as to why the characters were taking certain actions. Not in a “why does the character not betray X” sort of way but more in the “wait, what is he trying to do? Is he trying to kill X? What does he think killing X will accomplish? Why did he even come back here? Does this benefit him? What does he think will happen?” the problem is that, when you don’t understand the characters goals/thoughts, it’s hard to know if they are succeeding or failing at them, so the conflict wanes immediately.

 Likes

Serefin

Unlike possibly every other character, Serefin had clear motivations, goals, and things at stake. His life was at stake if he didn’t figure out what going on. His goal was to figure out what his father was doing, and to thwart it and live. Boom. A dynamic character. Throw in interpersonal conflict with him being traumatized from a war but now being forced to act in court and you have someone who actually has stakes in most scenes he’s in, who’s actions are logically derived from what he wants, and who makes progress towards his goal. A good character, a likeable character. One who can be funny, but with flaws.

 Magic System

The idea of two different magic system did seem interesting to me. I’ve always liked the idea that there were different ways to use magic and of course there was room to have rife interplay of how magic actually worked, how people accessed it, what that meant, etc etc