#or at least use a general x reader tag or reader insert

[lapseinart]

Can everyone please have a consistent Miguel O’Hara x reader tag so I can block it

Or at least if you’re tagging with multiple Miguel O’Hara tags have some consistency so I can block them?

[loonfull-sonnetzz]

Anyone who writes transmasc! Reader fanfics deserves a sweet kiss on the cheek

[catboymiles69]

[beware-of-pity]

I don't really mean for this to sound mean, at all, and this is honestly meant to be a sort of constructive criticism but I've been at my wits end these past few weeks when going through stories of some of my favourite characters because all I've been seeing are characters x reader stories being tagged as so only for them, in the end, to turn out to have been character x oc stories all along. I know some people probably do not care to tag correctly their posts, and some probably do so with the intention of posting them in hashtags that are intentionally misleading for the sake of readership and likes, and whatever not, but Tumblr is not ao3 where you can filter out certain characters or certain tags to clear the search of any unwanted characters or triggers and etc, etc because at its core Tumblr is a blogging platform where certain dedicated people and fandoms post fanfics of their favourite characters, which is why it does not possess such a feature like ao3 in the first place. I understand that new writers, probably, also cannot differentiate between a reader-insert and an actual original character created by them for their stories. But I fear it may be, common knowledge that when someone is specifically looking out for an x reader story they more than likely do not want most of the tag to be filled with people self-inserting themselves in the story through an oc. I know that no reader-insert will ever truly be a reader-insert because there is no way that the person reading the story will ever come close to the personality or appearance that is needed of the reader to make the story work but all I ask, at the very least, is for people to be honest about what kind of story they're putting out there and to not mislead people by posting stories that have nothing to do with the tag that it's been posted under only because it involves the character it's being matched with.

Again, this is only a general criticism, and it's not supposed to target anyone. Also, my main aim is not to be either rude or mean but it's something that's been going on for a while and that has been frustrating me so I felt I had to finally speak up about it.

Also, ps for certain writers, if you don't like using Y/N maybe reader-insert-centered stories are just not for you, because by then naming the reader it automatically makes the story an oc story.

[lunarduty]

𝙋𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘿𝙄𝙍𝙏 𝙄𝙉𝙏𝙊 𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝘽𝙀𝘿

☾ sfw & nsfw headcanons for dating soap JOHNNY 'SOAP' MACTAVISH X F!READER TAGS | nsfw. smut. oral (female receiving). female reader. WC | 2,063 x

SFW

☾ in his mind, he was already your boyfriend before even becoming official. soap is fiercely LOYAL and dedicated - just as soon as he realized the depths of his feelings, he was yours before you even knew it. stopped so much as looking at other people, much less thinking or fantasizing about them. for soap, you were it. he just had to convince you to go out with a guy like him, which is very soap. not always looking before he jumps.

☾ he loves calling himself your boyfriend, or calling you his girl. soap isn’t one to try and make it lowkey or anything. he wouldn’t be unprofessional - disrespecting or making you look bad is the last thing he wants. but soap will insert the fact into mundane little conversations whenever he can. the team quickly gets tired of it long before he does.

“soap, you joining us for drinks after the debrief?” “don’t know,” he says, sounding awfully CHIPPER for someone who might miss out on a night at the pub. “gotta check in with my girl, see if she wants to do anything tonight. missed out on lunch with her, y’know.” he was still beating himself up over that. you kept insisting it was fine - you both have crazy schedules sometimes. but soap didn’t want to make it a habit of blowing you off. gaz nodded like he agreed - soap didn’t think he really got what it meant to be your boyfriend.

☾ his favorite thing in the world is making you laugh, and he does it so easily. and a lot of the time, he doesn’t even mean to. soap can be blunt and cheeky sometimes, and his smart mouth has gotten him in hot water more often than not - but he’s always very happy to make you laugh, even accidentally. always acts kinda proud when his jokes land perfectly. or if he’s not in a great mood, but ends up saying something that makes you laugh, it always brightens his mood.

☾ while he usually finds one petname and sticks with it, soap is known to call you different ones - each worse and more SAPPY than the last. they’re never spoken seriously, he just enjoys seeing your nose wrinkle and look at him as if he just tracked dog shit into the house. it’s one of his favorite ways to tease you without feeling like he’s going too far, like he does with some of his mates.

with his nose buried against your neck, and the slowly thump of your heart vibrating on his chest, soap was damn near close to following you into unconsciousness. it had been a chaotic last few days - the mere chance to cuddle up with you in bed had him relaxed beyond the point of needing a quick fuck to tire him out. at least until you shifted your legs, and your icy toes pressed against his legs. “fuck, lass. toes are fuckin’ freezing,” he hisses against your shoulder. you just hum, not bothering to reply, more interested in finally falling asleep. he hums in return, and condemns himself to the icy torture. “lucky i love ya, my l’il popsicle.” “jesus, johnny.”

☾ generally enjoys going out on dates than staying home. of course, if you’re more of a homebody or he just doesn’t feel up to going out, a home date is perfectly fine with him. but soap likes going out and experiencing things - most of all, he wants to show you off. absolutely loves walking down the street with you on his arm, or you pulled against his side. tries to get some leave every few months so you two can travel somewhere, but usually, soap’s idea of a good date is simply going somewhere and having fun.

☾ gets super soft when you start getting comfortable around him. before the relationship began, you two were good friends - there was already a layer of comfort and familiarity before, but it’s different when you start dating. so one night, when you both are just chilling on the couch, and you start cackling at a joke on the TV or ugly-crying during a sad scene, soap just REVELS in it. he’s heard how far some people go not to show certain sides of themselves to their partners, and he’s super pleased that you don’t feel like you need to do that with him. on the flip side, soap immediately gets super goofy with you right off the bat, so it’s not like you’re alone in your silliness.

☾ don’t think you can outkiss this man. don’t even try to challenge him. soap mactavish is a man made for kissing and he will do it all day if you let him. your eyes in the morning to wake you up, on your cheek before he leaves, your hand after meeting up for lunch, your lips when he gets home at the end of the day, your neck while doing the dishes, your forehead after a good fuck before falling asleep. soap loves being able to kiss you whenever he wants and he takes full advantage of that privilege.

☾ arguments aren’t super common, but they do happen. soap can be stubborn and sometimes doesn’t see the wider picture. he forgets to take your feelings into account. arguments are usually resolved pretty painlessly, since soap knows he can be dumb sometimes and he doesn’t let his pride get in the way of apologizing. even still, he likes to go out of his way when it comes to make ups. he doesn’t like feeling guilty and can go a little overboard in comparison to the argument.

“so, you forgive me yet, bonnie?” “hmm,” you draw out the hum, even if the smile on your face negates the tension, “i haven’t decided yet.” suppressing his own grin, johnny throws his hands up in defeat. reclines back in his chair with a sigh and a shake of his head - always with the theatrics. “yeah, i figured ya say that. but i’ve learned to never enter a battle without a secret weapon.” “making up for a fight is a battle for you, is it?” your question, though a joke, made him pause. “well, no, i didn’t- fuck’s sake, lass. take it easy on me.” johnny stands, his hands clapping together. “i was listenin’, though. i know you feel all alone when i’m gone so much, and i’m sorry. wish i could change it.” of course, you knew he couldn’t just uproot his whole life. some of the things you said during the argument weren’t even exactly how you felt - just something said in the moment. “johnny, hold on, i didn’t mean-” “hey, hey, i’m not done.” he backs away from you toward the bedroom. “last thing i want is you to be here feelin’ all LONELY again. so i got something to fix all that.” he finally turns and makes for the bedroom door. when you stand and follow to watch, you notice how carefully he opened and slid right past. like he didn’t want you coming in. but you realized right away it was because he didn’t want something getting out. “a puppy? john, this is-” “great, right? can cuddle up to him when i’m not here!”

☾ definitely thinks about marriage super early on, but doesn’t really bring it up because he doesn’t wanna come off as weird or creepy. but honestly, soap knew you were the one right away. he’s not out looking at rings or wedding venues - he just kinda ACCEPTS that he’s gonna marry you. might make little jokes or comments here and there. jokingly calls you his wife or “the missus.” so when he eventually does pop the question, he’s a little taken aback when you’re caught off guard. and then he remembers that, oh yeah, he’s always been mentally married to you since basically forever.

NSFW

☾ it’s not hard at all to tell when soap is in the mood. he’s going to get very touchy if you let him - from soft grazes of his fingers along your skin to straight up groping your ass when you walk by. he is an absolute menace when he’s horny. loves coming up behind you when you’re doing something and just squeezing your hips and kissing your neck. grinds his cock against your ass, as if it isn’t painfully obvious how wound up he is.

☾ foreplay with soap is more fun than anything. there are rare moments when he’s silent and serious and focused, but mostly, he likes to keep it light. makes you laugh before sucking on your tits to take your breath away. says some dumb comment when you’re grinding against his thigh to distract you, only to suddenly change pace and laugh when you whimper. he sees sex with you as something to 100% ENJOY and making sure the both of you have fun with it…

☾ …that is until soap gets completely pussy-drunk off you and just shuts the fuck up and enters this kind of tunnel vision when he’s eating you out. it happens a good 60% of the time - he starts out his usual light and teasing self, kissing your thighs, asking you if you want to fuck his mouth. but just as soon as he gets his tongue on your clit and his fingers buried knuckle-deep, it’s so easy for him to just get lost in it. will make you cum twice before he realizes it, and is almost confused when you’re begging him to stop, or at least give you a break. 

“fu- fuck, johnny! i can’t- shit, you need to stop.” those words seem to finally break him of his little trance. your little moans and whimpers of his name are always MELODIC in a way that makes him want to hear more and more. but hearing you ask him to stop makes soap blink and pull his face away - lips parted in his panting, chin glistening. “okay, bonnie?” he asks, a hand squeezing your hip. you’re breathing hard. skin flushed. chin tilted upward with your eyes closed and he wonders just how hard you came. or how many times. “i’m okay,” you answer quickly. “just…need a break. or just fuck me - that works too.” a wide grin spreads over his face, and when he pulls his fingers free, the soft squelching sound almost makes him shiver. “just said the fuckin’ magic words, beautiful.”

☾ not at all picky with positions, so he usually just tries a bunch of different ones or follows your lead. there’s something to enjoy with all of them, so how can he have a favorite? fucking you in missionary gets him on top, where he feels so big and strong and loves feeling you hold onto him like your life depends on it. when you ride him, he gets to watch your face the entire time, or play with your tits, or do anything he wants. getting you in doggy is great when soap is feeling especially FERAL and just wants to drive into you, grabbing your ass, tugging on your hair when he feels like he can’t hear you well enough. gun to his head, he can’t pick just one.

☾ soap does have a preference when he cums. as fucking fantastic as it feels to cum inside you, there’s something otherwordly about pulling out and painting your skin. he saves creampies for slow and sleepy sex (or when you beg for it), but every other time? soap is cumming on your back, your belly, your thighs, your face, your tits. anywhere and everywhere is fair game for him. he’s definitely taken a picture when the sight is too good to leave to memory. eventually deletes them because he doesn’t want them to somehow get out, but not before using it as wank material while he’s away.

☾ very gentle and attentive with aftercare. sex with soap isn’t especially rough or intense most of the time, but he still doesn’t slack on it. kissing you good and proper after you both cum, letting you know just how much he loves you. always gets something to clean you up and talking while he does so - soap is a chatterbox anyway, but more so after sex because he doesn’t want you to start feeling awkward. lots of cuddles and touches when he climbs into bed - but be warned, he does tend to nod off pretty soon.

[neteyamssock]

Not so bad, after all.

╰┈➤ PART I.

pairing: neteyam x fem!metkayina!reader

summary: When neteyam and you met each other for the first time, they were overwhelmed with feelings they have never felt before.

wordcount for this chapter: 2.3k

tags: love at first sight, misunderstanding, arranged marriage/mateship, unrequieted love, betrayal, angst, happy ending, etc.

wordbank: 'eveng = child. mawey = be calm. skxawng = moron/idiot. uturu = a request for safe harbor/asylum. tsahik = spiritual leader. olo-eyktan = clan leader. paskalin = sweet berry (?).

A/N: UNEDITED, just word vomit. Tsu'nari is the name I used as a place-holder for reader-insert. I'll try to not use it as much...i'm also new to tumblr and the fandom in general so i hope i'm not doing something wrong??? 😭😭😭 I was going crazy thinking about neteyam and couldn't sleep so i created a tumblr account to posted all these word vomits. I also posted it first on AO3. Sorry for this word vomit, uh... Enjoy?

TEXT DIVIDERS CREDITS TO @cafekitsune

masterlist

part ii.

part i.

When your parents joined Eywa’s embrace and you only had your grandfather as your own remaining kin, you knew your life wouldn’t be yours to live. He often said you have an immense potential for greatness, that you were born to lead. You have been expected to accomplish a lot since you were an ‘eveng, and your grandfather saw something in you that he believes would help the clan. 

He’s a vital elder who wields power under the olo-ekytan, helping in the matters of the clan. You knew his ambition for you and your family, but you never once complained for you know what is your duty and responsibility. 

“I’m doing this for you, paskalin. You are born for this, and Eywa bears witness.” He once told you, when you refused his proposal to study under the Tsahik as a tsakarem.

He cupped your face, “I’m running out of time, paskalin. I’m doing this to ensure that once I embrace Eywa’s loving arms, you would be in good hands.”

He thought the only way to ensure that you live a good life is to set you up with the olo-eyktan’s oldest son. When you heard of it, you wanted to disagree, thinking everybody else would too. You didn’t expect that in one typical eclipse, Olo-eyktan would call you and look at you with approval. “You will grow up into a fine young woman. Learn well under the Tsahik. Do you understand me, girl?”

You agreed, sneaking a glance at the Tsahik and saw her looking at you with an unreadable expression. She actually never consented, at least verbally, but she also didn’t protest it. She was just watching you, assessing your worth like she would do herbs and medicinal plants. 

“Mother is not one who speaks a lot. Her lack of protest is her answer, you know that right? I’m excited for your tsaheylu with Ao’nung, tsmuke. You would make a fine mother and Tsahik of the clan.” Tsireya exclaimed when she learned about your engagement. 

You find it ironic how your clansmen says they know you, of what you will become, but never once heard your silent scream for freedom. They never picked up on the fact that you weren’t happy at this arrangement. But then again, does happiness even matter when duty and responsibility hold the clan together?

“Is there even a problem?” Ao’nung asked you when confronted him about the issue. He seems genuinely perplexed as to why you kept asking him about his thoughts. Then you understood. The reason why the olo-eyktan and the Tsahik agreed wasn’t because of your potential to become a Tsahik. It was always about Ao’nung and his thoughts, and it should've made you flattered. That the future olo-eyktan finds you suitable to lead the clan side by side by him. But it only made the burden on your shoulders heavier.

Eywa was the last one you sought. You asked her for guidance, a hint of what future holds for you. But she only said to wait. That its not the time yet, so you compromised. You accepted everything and remained silent.

Never expecting in one typical wild day for your life to change forever.

When you heard the familiar call of the horn, you didn’t hesitate to ride your ilu back to the shore. You still many herbs you need to pick, but you knew by the sound that something major had happened in awa’atlu. Whatever that is, the sound of the call seems urgent, requiring the attention of the everybody. When you looked above the surface, you happen to see several figures with skin shades darker than regular people of awa’atlu. Not far behind ere banshees you rarely see in the ocean. Your people were surrounding these darker Na’vis, murmurs and gasps could be heard across the beach. 

You saw Tsireya not far away, also riding her ilu, so you decided to whistle to get her attention.

“Who are those, Tsmuke?” You asked her when she came near you. 

“I don’t know yet, tsmuke. We must hurry.”

You saw the people making way for Ao’nung and Roxto, who the two foreign boys greeted with politeness but was met with disrespectful snickering. 

“Look, what is that? Is that supposed to be a tail?” You heard Roxto speak in Na’vi, wanting to touch the tail of one of the guests. This earned a look from the two boys. Ao’nung laughed at Roxto’s comment, seemingly agreeing to his friend, making you frown. What a skxawng! Is this how a future olo-eyktan should act to guests?

Tsireya and you reached ashore, pulling the attention of the darker na’vis into your direction. At this moment, your eyes met with golden ones of the tallest among the children. His eyes seems piercing, scrutinizing you before giving you a small smile with intensity that you froze and stopped walking.

Tsireya didn’t fail to notice this as she giggled, whispering to you. “Tsmuke, let’s go.”

You cleared your throat and looked away from those golden eyes, your heart still racing, wanting to beat out of your chest for reason you cannot understand. Mawey, there’s no reason to be afraid. They are the guests, not you.

Thinking once is not enough, Roxto opened his mouth again, “It’s too small, how are they supposed to swim?”

You eyed Roxto with contempt, thinking to yourself. Did it not occur to you that they are not Reef Na’vi? Skxawng. 

Tsireya, who’s nearer to the Roxto, swatted his pointing fingers and warned. “Do not, Roxto, Ao’nung.” Before smiling to the two. It didn’t escape your eyes and ears when one of them softly mumbled a greeting towards your sister that made her giggle.

You took this chance to hide among the people as they gathered around the visitor, observing them with fascination. You have seen Na’vi in this color, most of them are land Na’vi, thus their difference in terms of skin color and tail shape. Their arms were thin, unlike the reef people’s wide forearms. 

When you heard your clansmen’s whispers, you couldn’t help the gasps that escaped you. It is actually Toruk Makto and his family, the Omatikaya people!

Your heart raced even further as you watched the father of this foreign forest na’vis, the Toruk Makto Jakesuli that defeated the sky demons and brought victory and peace among several clans. It is a tale that your grandfather often tells you at night when you cannot sleep. He must be the eldest son of Toruk Maktob and his mate Neytiri te Tsakaha Mo’at’ite then. That’s why you felt like that because he’s the son of a mighty warrior and he himself had passed his iknimaya. 

You wondered what made Toruk Makto and his family come here in awa’atlu. What could be their reason for visiting a clan from so far away, with lots of baggages and storages in their ikrans. Thankfully, the olo-eyktan has finally arrived in his tsurak along with several hunters and warriors. He landed in front of the Sully family, greeting them with respect. The Tsahik has also arrived, giving you a glance as she passed by you. You knew what that glance meant. She wanted you to be infront, to accompany Ao’nung. 

You wordlessly followed her. You tried to ignore the prickling sensation directed towards you as you emerged in front in Ronal’s tow, ignoring the shiver that went down to your spine when you stood face to face with the oldest sully son. 

“Why do you come to us, Jakesuli?” Tonowari’s deep voice silenced all the awa’atlu people, all wanting to hear Toruk Makto’s response. 

Jake looked at his family and spread his arms wide, “We seek uturu!”

You can hear the collective gasps of your clansmen, the suddenly shift in Ronal’s tail movements indicated her disbelief and displeasure, “Uturu?”

The rest were a blur to you as you looked down at the sand in your feet. Uturu has been asked, and no matter how Ronal dislikes the idea of Na’vis with demon blood seeking asylum in awa’atlu, tradition is not something to be questioned. Safe harbor was requested, and Tonowari shall deliver. 

“Teach them our ways so they do not suffer the shame of being useless. My son Ao’nung and my daughter Tsireya will show your children what to do.”

You watched Tsireya guide the Sullys into the village, while Ao’nung looked displeased at his father before looking at you pointedly. You nodded at him with a smile, which made him roll his eyes and follow Tsireya. 

“Girl,” Ronal called you. 

“Yes, Tsahik.” You bowed your head respectfully as her hand landed on your shoulder. 

“Watch over Ao’nung, make sure he does no mistake that will disgrace the clan.” Without waiting for your response, she walked away along with the Olo-eyktan, talking in hushed tones. You watched them silently before looking at the direction where Tsireya and the Sully family walked to.

Neteyam watched the forest slowly faded away from his sight, as they bravely faces the unknown future of their family. No matter how it hurts him to leave his home, Sullys have to stick together. They couldn’t afford losing another one of their family under Quatrich’s knife, and endanger the Omatikaya People for the second time. Their people had lost too much.

He looked at his father, who seems to have aged a lot overnight. His distressed mother who’s forced to leave the place she had spent her life protecting, his youngest sister nestled in her bosom, confused and sad leaving her grandmother alone. His brother Lo’ak who has been silent all the way, still blaming himself for getting his siblings under the enemy’s hand, and Kiri who’s reluctant to leave her ma behind. 

And him… who spent his life striving to become a warrior like his father, excelling as the future olo-eyktan of Omatikaya. 

The return of the sky demons changed their future into something unrecognizable. Neteyam hated it, he hated not being able to see what future holds for him and his family now that they were forced to leave. All his life, he had everything under control (except Lo’ak) and at least he had a grasp of what’s supposed to happen.

Can they really adapt like his father said? Will the Metkayina accept their request for uturu? What could be waiting for them in unfamiliar environment they have never been exposed to? 

They are not meant to be in the ocean. They are forest people, meant to be swinging through vines and flying their ikrans until eclipse. They are meant to fight with bows and arrows, not with spears. Fight in the forest, not the ocean. 

Neteyam cannot help but to doubt, helplessness emerged from his heart and clouded his vision. 

“Trust Eywa’s plans, Neteyam. She will guide you to the right path. Do not fear, for she will be there to watch over us.” Mo’at told him the night before their flight, giving him a small smile and a tight hug, assuring him that there’s always light at the end of the darkness. Eywa’s light.   

Metkayina people are different from Omatikaya in many ways. Not only their physical appearance, but also their way of life. Neteyam wasn’t afraid to admit that they were beautiful.

Especially you. The moment he laid eyes on you, he felt his heart skip a beat, a flutter on his stomach that made him flustered internally. When your gaze connected with his, he couldn’t help but to hold his breath. He kept staring at you, tracing your features and wanting to catch your eyes, but you seem to avoid his, hiding yourself amongst your people.

Neteyam felt his stomach flip as realization dawned on him. Perhaps, you also thought him and his family are weird, so you hid yourself. Neteyam looked away, confused by his own reaction. Lo’ak seems to pick it up as he gave Neteyam a knowing look. Neteyam gave him a glare, thinking that Lo’ak is just the same as him, flustered when Tsireya and you emerged from the shallow waters. 

Neteyam calmed his racing heart and thoughts, attributing it as tiredness. It didn’t help that he’s also on edge due to the Metkayina’s reaction towards him and his family, especially when Tonowari questioned his father about the war against the sky people. He wanted to talk but a simple flick of tail from his father stopped him. 

When he saw you behind Ronal and stood face to face with him, he wanted to greet you, but you never once looked at him, simply staring at the sand in your feet. Ronal began questioning his sibling’s blood as Na’vi, making him angry but unable to do anything, so he directed his gaze at you. Thinking it was the reason for your refusal to look at him in the eyes.

“Teach them our ways so they do not suffer the shame of being useless. My son Ao’nung and my daughter Tsireya will show your children what to do.”

It didn’t escape Neteyam’s eyes when Lo’ak smiled at Tonowari’s words. Making him wonder about you. Are you not Tonowari’s daughter? Why are you with Ronal?

He looked at you one last time and saw Ronal speaking to you with all seriousness, making him even more curious about your identity. With narrowed eyes, he followed his family into the village. 

The next day, Tsireya came early to the Sully’s marui, intending to fetch the Sully children and teach them the ways of the water. Strangely enough, she was alone with no Ao’nung in sight.

“Will he not come with us? Does he dislike us?” Tuk asked aloud, making everyone flabbergasted. Neteyam quickly covered Tuk’s mouth, afraid that she’ll make it even worse with her next words.

Tsireya didn’t take it to heart as she laughed, stealing glances from Lo’ak. “It is fine. He will come, because someone will watch over to make sure he does his task.”

Neteyam’s heart skipped a beat, the scene of you with Ronal yesterday appeared his mind. “Who?”

Tsireya paused, suddenly clueless on how she will introduce you to the Sully. Ao’nung’s future mate? The next Tsahik? Her closest companion and sister at heart? Before she could speak, Lo’ak elbowed Neteyam. “We’ll know in the future. Tsireya seems a good teacher and i’m sure we’ll learn without Ao’nung.”

Neteyam ignored the loss he felt inside and followed his siblings as Tsireya led them to the shallow waters. 

Mawey. Stop this. Why are you acting this way? Neteyam chastised himself inwardly, crushing the budding hope in his heart that you were somewhere in these shallow waters.

[stargirl-writes]

heal

pairing : f! reader x anakin skywalker

word count : 3.5 k

masterlist | ao3 link

summary

in which anakin skywalker chooses to run away with you before all is lost in mustafar.

tags : au, angst!!, hurt/no comfort

warnings : toxic love, dark fic, ptsd, and reader being so dependent on anakin, suicidal behavior

notes : my reader character being a healer is my self indulgent insert 😭

i've sat w this 4 so long cause i was like 'realistically, what would happen if anakin ran away?' and i think i've finally made up my mind abt it.

time is moving fast for this fic because i wanted to cover so much, so heads up for the skips!

ALSO, ear-ringing apologist perspective. if u can't handle reader being blind to faults, this is not for u haha!

likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated!

Every saint has a past, and every sinner has a future. 

At least, it was something you want believed in.

The clone war that raged on revealed just how much people can be persuaded to do horrible things when their survival is at stake.

You underestimated that instinct yourself. The burning desperation to not lose your Anakin Skywalker. You thought, you would have killed for him, the way he would for you.

Obi-Wan Kenobi was the one to tell you how Anakin became irredeemable.

It was a blur how you flew to Mustafar despite it. You needed Anakin to admit to it, you needed to take him away from what he'll become.

The crimes he committed made you feel sick, septic like a festering wound.

But, whether you love what you love.

Or live in divided ceaseless revolt against it, what you love is your fate.

You've been so alone. So much so, you can only define a time with Anakin, and without him.

It was gradual. It couldn't have been some higher power that destined you to him, He had been a General of a war, and you, the Healer. It was all odds, that you fell in the right place at the wrong time.

An unwilling hero, and a glorified murderer.

He was crafted to be a tool in the war. Divinely created by the Force with the purpose of bringing balance. And in a war, that meant doing damage, killing.

Every victory he had was a stark contrast to yours.

Every life he takes, be it a droid or a separatist, is a win. And every life you lose is a name added to the long list of casualties.

You and Anakin were opposites.

So, the shock of it remains, because somehow along the way, Anakin loved you. And you loved him. You had each other to cling to.

The terror of What if it doesn't last, What if there's no one else? What happens if it goes back to being alone? persists.

And you might not belong anywhere else.

But you were his. As he is yours. Not in the manner of possession. Yours in the way of devotion.

Mine to tend to, mine to care for, mine to love.

You knew that Anakin's love was conditional. You were only the one in front of him. You didn't misunderstand. You let him use you anyway.

It's not like you were loving him unconditionally, it was because you were terrified to be lonely.

At least, in the beginning, you believed so.

Most days were occupied by your duties. And Anakin would love you in a way that is shaped like fingers wrapped around a throat. Incessant. Hungry. Teeth deep in possession. Making up for the little time, holding you against him as if he was bracing himself that someday you won't be around.

It felt like he was always saying goodbye.

So, though your heart was nearly breaking out of your ribs, you flew by yourself to Mustafar.

A pile of lifeless Separatist figures greeted you in horror.

It was true. Anakin had gone to the dark side. What he did with those children... 

The fear consumed you like a corrosion, but still, you stood in front of him, begging him to come back.

Anakin had carried a deep malaise when you had found him. It was almost emanating from his blood-stained robe, a coldness, a deadly assurance.

"You're not supposed to be here," Anakin says in a strangled voice. His hands firmly holding your arms.

The color of his eyes startled you. It was like looking at a ghost, and all that was left was an unending rage. You fought to not let your fear swallow you.

"Anakin, we have to go" Your lips quivered, not entirely sure what you were planning.

There will never be escaping the things he's done.

You want him to go away with you, anyway.

Every saint has a past, and every sinner has a future. 

For a while, it was quiet. Anakin's glossy blue eyes were gazing at you, in conflict, and begging to be understood.

"I can't... Don't you see? I've restored justice to the galaxy" He abruptly lets go, and turns, concealing his face away from your sight. "The things I've done... I can't, there's no running away from it"

The guilt he feels leads him to think that the only path now is through the one he sacrificed his morality for.

"No," you struggled, voice failing to hide your anguish. "Anakin, you can't let this be your fate. Run away with me." You pleaded, eyes filled with tears.

A life of loneliness. With no one, the way it used to. 

Then, Anakin half turns. He surveys your willingness to take him as he is. Maybe, even wanting to believe it.

You have always loved Anakin, even the parts you have not understood.

Perhaps, this was the similarity that bound you together. Burning devotion. One that allows you to see past your moral code.

You gave so much to the war. You'd run yourself spent from the hours. You fought so hard to keep people from dying. You'd never taken anything but this. A chance at life. Away from it all.

"I would've done anything you asked of me" His voice reveals his devastation.

You stepped forward, "Then come with me, Leave it all behind, I need you"

You held your breath, half convinced that this may very much be the end of things.

But Anakin takes your hand, and you don't waste a minute more to take him away in your ship.

Your hands shook the entire time.

The galaxy was silent when the war ended.

Mace Windu's attempt to assassinate the Chancellor made the Jedi an enemy of the Empire.

It triggered an Order that made clone soldiers turn against their Generals. The Jedi are hunted down for treason.

You and Anakin will never find security again.

The atmosphere was thick with emotions that were strained by the abruptness of events. It was making it so much harder to breathe. To live with the truth of it.

All three years of the war are reduced to two moments; Anakin falling into Palpatine's manipulation, and Anakin choosing to run away with you.

You caught yourself slipping away. Tucked in a corner of your mind where you can feel safe.

The healer's oath replays in your mind, the cruelest reminder.

Blind to faults, blind to good. Serve to save, not to see.

As the jedi healer, you weren't allowed to deny patients. You wondered whether that played into role when you stomached all the horrible things Anakin did.  Serve to save, despite, despite, despite...

You landed in a remote place on your home planet of Hapes.

It was a secluded cabin that you used to go to when you were younger. Surrounded by a lake that stretches as far as your eyes can see. It was the first thing that came to mind when you set your ship on autopilot.

Anakin was quiet the entire time.

You, too, became paralyzed by the events that has unraveled.

For a few days, it remained like that.

Though the event has passed, your body can't quite regulate.

It still feels as though someone will find you. And take Anakin with them. You knew your hypervigilance was a consequence of your trauma, but knowing doesn't mean you can let the feeling go.

Even Anakin responds to mild stressors as if he was still in the war. He'd not let you off his sight the first few weeks.

You felt as though Anakin was trying to process everything in his mind. And you grew terrified of his growing silence. Knowing Anakin meant knowing his tendencies to vacillate violently. The reality of what he had done would set and it'd twist into something septic. An unending shame.

You were convinced that he'd have killed himself from it.

But then he'd stare at you deeply as if he was committing you to memory. He'd coddle your face in his palm. He'd hold your hand, hands that are capable of so much rage, and so much tenderness. He'd hold you tight against him in bed, the way he used to.

He can't quite communicate it through words yet, so he'd rely on his touch to let you know that he was still here. Your anxieties eased after. He needed to detangle it on his own. You'd be there whenever he is ready.

Obi-Wan Kenobi appears the next month.

It was through luck that you were the one to open the door.

You knew Obi-Wan would want Anakin to answer for the crimes he's committed.

You won't let him.

"What do you want?" You say cautiously. Stepping forward to the Jedi Master to stop him from entering your new home.

Obi-wan furrows his eyebrows at your action. He gazes at you for a moment before speaking up. "You know what he's done, [Name]"

"The Republic has fallen. The system that replaced it won't hold him to what he's done. It's the very reason for its existence, anyway"

Obi-Wan's eyebrows flashed hearing your words. It seemed as though you'd be the last person he'd expect to exhibit such... heartlessness.

"And what, do you intend to keep him here forever?"

You looked down, fiending an expression of indifference you learnt from Anakin.

"I'm more selfish than he is"

Obi-Wan sighs. There were no more Jedi Council to hold Anakin accountable. You wonder if Obi-Wan had gone looking for him out of the responsibility he felt he had. You could use that.

"If you have any love left for Anakin, You'll leave him with me" You persuaded.

Obi-Wan sharply looks at you. You knew he was being torn apart by his mind and heart.

The door swings, revealing Anakin who appears behind you.

Anakin's arm extends to put you behind him. Obi-Wan was caught, stricken by the sight of his apprentice. You held on to Anakin's forearm.

You held your breath.

Then, Obi-Wan opens his arm to hug Anakin.

Anakin froze, perhaps not expecting his Master to embrace him after...

He turns his head to look at you, then back to his Master. And he reluctantly wraps his arm around Obi-Wan.

You exhaled finally.

You saw Obi-Wan's glossy eyes as he pulled away. He may not forgive Anakin for all the things he's responsible for, but his love for him surpasses all the anger he has.

Gaining his master's acceptance, Anakin became recognizable once more.

However, Obi-Wan could not stay. Perhaps, he's grown sick of stomaching the love he had for Anakin. It was not an easy feeling to be fond of.

When Obi-Wan left, Anakin finally came to you.

It hauntingly paralleled the moment he broke down after he lost his mother. After he gave in to his rage. Only this time, he didn't hold the pose of defiance and came undone, weeping for what he'd done.

You held him and told him that what matters now is what he'll choose to do.

And in the months that come, Anakin has fought to deserve your forgiveness.

He wanted to earn your love.

As a healer, your experience with foraging natural medicine made you more equipped to build a sustainable life. In six months, you were able to make this house by the lake a place to call home.

But, Anakin is being dragged through time. He'd do his best to help, but you can feel his... silence. The weight of it, this was not the life he was groomed to have. He has always lived off the adrenaline. The absence of it makes him constantly feel as though he is at the other end of the high.

It'd worry you whenever he comes home late from a hunt. He's always been reckless, that much hasn't changed. He'd come home covered in tissue deep cuts, bruised muscles, and a dead-pan look in his eyes. It was a topic that you tried to communicate— and a topic Anakin would respond defensively to.

"It's nothing" He'd dismiss whilst you were dressing the wound.

You'd press the clean gauze over his skin, on the brink of anxiety. He'd wince and take the gauze from your hand.

And you'd stand up and leave, because your patience would have run out by then.

It upset you how he always stands on a cliff to wait for the winds to swoon him over because he won't jump, he won't make that decision himself.

Your breaths were shallow as you tried to calm down after yelling about how his passivity over danger was eating at you. You needed him to try. Because you can't save him on your own.

"I'm sorry" Anakin looks down, receding. " I just don't know how to do this" He admits, eyes wide, childlike, helpless.

And you thaw, breaths shallow as you fought to not cry from the anger.

"Anakin, if you don't..." You began, looking down at the ground as if the words would appear before you there. "if you don't want this anymore, you can go"

Because the entire year you have spent in this cabin, it felt like time has frozen. You hoped that in time, you and Anakin would find the courage to move past the war. Of course, it was futile, you can never take back what you've given to the effort.

Whatever is left of you and Anakin is all there is now. And sometimes, it feels like there is nothing. Just ghosts of who you once were. You weren't sure if being with you was making any difference at all.

You were selfish, but not enough to keep him as he wastes away. You'd let him go, even if it'd cripple you forever.

Anakin grabs both of your shoulders firmly, forcing you to look up to him.

"Why do you think I came with you?" Anakin's voice was stern. His eyes fixed, determined to imprint words to your heart.

You held on to his arm, swallowing your anguish. "I only meant that if I'm not doing you any good, you should—"

"And where would I go?" He interrupts, unrelenting.

"I don't know" You admitted. You're ruining him. You've done this to him. You should let him go.

His grip loosened, and his lips kept opening and closing as if he was eating up the words before letting it leave his mouth.

"—I'm trying, [Name]"

"I'm giving you my life, I don't have anything larger to give" His voice breaks, and his head dips. "I'm trying" he repeats.

You felt his tears warm against your clavicle. Your fingers tangling with his hair.

"I know, Ani" You coo gently. "We'll try together" You promised.

It was becoming clearer that he was alleviating his sins by trying to kill the entity that once controlled him. It was also becoming harder to see a monster when all you see is Anakin, the love you abandoned everything for.

Anakin, who was sold as a slave, and then freed, only to be chained to another lifelong servitude through the Jedi. Anakin, who was dropped in the middle of a war, and made responsible for a child whilst being a child himself.

The Jedi Order relied on his nature of winning, despite not agreeing with his tactics. He'd be patronized for his violence, which his life would soon be defined by. Anakin's worst action is murder, the same way his best action is murder. Because if he doesn't answer to the shots fired, he'd be the one receiving them.

He was never afforded any space to become anything else.

Except when he's with you.

Anakin can become cruel, the same way he is loving. Two truths can exist at the same time.

And with the months that flew by, you watched as Anakin continually chose to not let his darkness define him.

You were learning things about him that you couldn't have had during the war. The way he neatly keeps inventory of his tools. The intense focus in his eyes when he is concentrating. The way the wood creaks— the cadence of his steps. All committed to memory because no one else can know him the way you do.

He told you, you saved him. And you wept, unsure whether what you did was really an act of selflessness.

Living with him became easier. No more effort to try to gain his love. No approval, no admiration to attain. There is no role to play, no one to convince. Just, being. There was so much time, and the only thing that mattered was; how long do we have each other?

Most days, Anakin would carry his grief so well, that you'd forget it was even there. He'd work to minimize it, to live with it. However, when the dark comes, he has no control over his dreams. and the overwhelming shame and guilt seep.

It had been two years when you woke up abruptly to find the space beside you empty.

You grabbed your robe, the cold midnight air felt crisp against your skin. Finding Anakin was easy. He'd always wander towards the edge of the lake, staring at the moons.

"It's cold, Ani, come back to sleep" You urged, but Anakin's gaze was far away.

He has chopped some of his hair, and it looked the way it used to during the war. It startles you sometimes to remember how young he still was.

"I had a dream" He speaks softly, arms finding a way to snake around you so he'd press you against him. "It felt as real as you now" His gaze lands on you.

It terrified you to ask, but you did anyway.

"We had a child"

Oh.

You chuckled in surprise. Stepping back to process what he said. It just never seemed to occur to you, then. Though you have never dismissed the idea, it just felt like you were barely surviving to try to raise a child.

Anakin smiles when he realizes he made you flustered. "Good thing it was only a dream?"

You let out a breathless laugh, somehow relieved that Anakin was not seriously considering it.

"Yes," You weren't ready. You may never find it in yourself to ever be ready.

"We're not bringing a child now, not like this"

Anakin's expression melts, "Yes, the empire is growing stronger" His guilt resurfaces.

"I never imagined it to be like this for us," He thinks out loud,

"We have to make the best of what we have" You sigh.

"I've been thinking" Anakin begins, "maybe, there is still something that can be done"

You try steadying your breath, somehow bracing yourself for this moment; when he'll want to fight again.

It was everything he was made for. You knew that, you just didn't think it'd be in under a short period.

Something was screaming inside you. A fear, that you thought had gone when you ran away with Anakin. It was telling you that you were going to lose him. And you, selfishly, want to stop him. He can't... if he goes, he'll die. And you can't even begin to imagine what'll happen to you if he dies.

"How?" You asked despite yourself.

"Ahsoka mentioned something about a rebellion," He says, voice thick with something he hasn't had before. Hope.

"The galaxy needs changing" He steps forward.

You shook your head, overcome by the anxiety of it. "Anakin, I'm never going back"

He turns on his heel, eyes narrowed at your proclamation. "I didn't ask you to come back"

You tilt your head, "Of course, you weren't" Though you knew you were being unfair, just the idea of it was sending stress already.

Anakin's eyebrows knit. "I'm only thinking out loud, it's one thing to consider it but another to act on it" He defends.

Though, you know this is where it begins. And you were responding defensively because you knew where it would lead.

Anakin will forever feel as though he has to restore the galaxy to how it was before he helped destroyed it. It won't be long until he'd despise himself for choosing to stay here with you. Especially since it's been drilled into him that he's supposed to be the one to bring balance to the force.

Whether he loves you or lives in a divided ceaseless revolt against it, what he chooses to love is your fate.

His purpose or you. 

Going would give him his closure.

Going would anchor you to the hells of your biggest fear.

"Anakin, please don't go where I can't follow" Your voice broke, begging. It was selfish to want to keep him for the second time.

And you weren't sure whether your love would be enough for Anakin to stay.

Not when it only brought him here, a home by the lake, forever standing on thin ice that always threatened to break under.

You were living under the false pretense of security. All of this, the house, the lake, the isolation, are reminders that you and Anakin will never go back to normalcy, no matter how much you pretend.

A knife may dull, but its purpose remains to cut.

Anakin's expression softens and he presses his lips on the temples of your forehead.

You were slowly understanding that the entire galaxy's fate was carried inside Anakin Skywalker.

The chosen one.

Every decision he made was informed by that pressure. No matter how personal, it always builds to a path that he can't control, because it's already laid out for him.

Created by the force, to be used by the force.

So you can't find the heart to be angry when he left.

You decided it would be hopeless to try to stop him. Anakin has this view that everything in his life, he has to work to earn. To deserve.

Even this... freedom that you have.

He has to contribute to it, in this perverse grandiose action as to fight the Empire. So he can accept that you do indeed love him.

He has to seize this opportunity with Ahsoka. He is more autonomous of his power now. He is once again engaging in something that's risking his life. He can fulfill his destiny.

It didn't make it any less painful.

You had to inspire confidence in him, otherwise, he'd doubt. So, you pushed all your feelings away and smiled when you kissed him goodbye.

You never left the war. The two years you stole were only stalling the inevitable. Perhaps, two years was too generous.

"Bring him back, please" You took Ahsoka aside. Ahsoka nods uncommitedly. For, she won't promise what she can't deliver.

And once again, you have found yourself alone.

He swore he'd have done anything for you.

Just not this one.

His belief that he has no inherent right to life; and has to work to earn anything made you feel as though you were his... prize. A trophy. In which he'd fight for to retain but not value enough to take care of.

He should've stayed. It's good he left.

Because now that you have nothing, you're finally able to detangle how Anakin doesn't love you. Not in the way you thought. Anakin loves that he has you.

You have always put his wellness first, that now, when you are not so worried by walking carefully around his hurt, you are able to feel yours.

Perhaps, losing Anakin was good. You can finally put yourself first. Whilst he still seeks answers in the past

There is no going back to the way it was. You tried living 'normally' and it just became a bitter reminder that you are forever changed.

Acceptance of that and lending yourself a little more compassion might just be the beginning of your healing.

footnote

i'm obsessed with the writing style where authors strikes through the text ! it's such a smart way to imply that the character that's narrating is choosing not to allow those thoughts and so it looks like it's been scribbled out .

also, quoting ka applegate on relationships not lasting outside the war :

"wars don't end happily. not ever. often relationships that were central during war, dissolve during peace. some people who were brave and fearless in a war are unable to handle peace, feel disconnected and confused. "

[mellowwillowy]

𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐬 𝐂𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐬

Yan! Circus Performers x GN!Reader

(Feel free to insert the Yans yourself, I will tag some that could work by the ending)

TW: Body horror and details (Yans and Reader), general Yan warnings, proceed with caution. (Gore level: 1.5)

Darker than night, deep in the woods you'll find Standing alone, a circus that no one knows

Was it a mistake for you to wander into the woods? With a pamphlet in your hand, you strayed into the woods to see the circus. The pair looked so adorable, the two of them looked alike as though they were only mirroring each other. Although their face looked sad, the two sounded cheerful…. as though they were trying to cover their cries…

Children who can't even carry the trembling limbs they were born with

Master of all, nearly ten meters tall Watching the show, eyes that will slowly grow

Yet no one had ever seen the Master of the Circus.

All who perform smile with faces torn Happy with glee, strange as they look to me

You looked at everyone. The pair of Aces looked into you as they laughed merrily, reminding you of the Ace that you never got in a game of blackjack. The other performer offered you their hand as though they were asking you for a dance. A dance, with a performer that was at least 6 meters tall, oh how amazing.

Shall the fun start? Follow me to the Dark Woods Circus Please, join the festivity

The pair of Ace ran into the circus, and their laugh rang endlessly. The tall performer's back was tapped by another performer who was just as tall as them.

They smile as they dream of their mother's embrace

Come and see the two-headed (freak) of nature

The pair of Ace smiled eerily, both of their hands clasped to each other, the cloak covering their bodies taken off revealing stitched bodies. ""Oh what fun! Come, child of human! Kekekekeke…"" Their laugh was just as mirrored as their appearance and fate!

Gaze at a siren, her flesh deformed

"Don't you find me beautiful, dove? Do you perhaps envy me? Truth is that I envy you instead." They held your hand, their eyes unable to find yours and yet they envy your beauty.

Fear the all-eating beast and his love for cold Decaying meals that once were warm

The man's arms were bound to his back, the only thing he could do was feast what was placed in front of him! The woman next to him buried her head into her knees, her surroundings were painted in red wine. "It's delicious, they are delicious, Mother, it tastes so good. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm SORRY" "Kekeke, do you have more for us to eat? We'd like to eat you but… a shame… love… heart… kekekeke…"

Did we ask to breathe? Did we ask to only be abused, Living in bodies like these?

The pair of tall performers started dancing, twirling, spinning lovingly as they tried not to step on you. Their eyes stared into each other, dared not to make any mistake with their steps. ""Perhaps it would be nice for the three of us to dance together?"" Their voice rang as their eyes looked down, staring into yours. "It won't hurt that much, dove" "They'll just break and attach a new pair of legs on you, dove"

When you look at me, what is it that you see? Now a face rotting and torn at the seams

"See? I knew you were beautiful." The pair of Ace took off their blindfold, their eyes bore into yours. "So beautiful, a pair of legs, a pair of eyes, and a face that doesn't rot! You look like a dove!"

Through the pain I scream, how "it hurts so badly" "But we can't help it or do anything"

"Don't you think you'll look even more beautiful if you look exactly like one?"

As the girl would weep, telling me this sadly We perform, always the circus repeats

"Or perhaps we could clip your wings." "That way, you are forever bound to us." The pair laughed again, this time their hands were unclasped, reaching out to you.

How I love the show! How I love it all so! Can you see how fun a circus can be?

The pair of Ace jumped, their voice filling the whole circus as they cheered endlessly.

As our flesh decays and our eyes melt away With a face rotting, it's fun every day

""Because we've found ourselves an injured Dove!! Cheer to everyone, Cheer to the deformity of our Master!!""

How I long to die, why am I still alive? Anyone help me escape from this life

"We have captured the Dove's heart! It decides to rest here!" "Let's clip their wings so that they can rest eternally!" "We'll share our food! The best lump of meat you could ever taste of!" ""Fear not, for the Dove could dance even without its wings"" """" Why do you look terrified, Dove? We LOVE you! We CHERISH you! We WANT you!""""

"You can never leave", yes, I have a feeling Long ago, someone had told this to me It is impossible for anyone to say and feel

"Welcome to the Dark Woods Circus"

A pair of hands placed upon your shoulder, their lip brushed the tip of your ear. Everyone bowed down toward the subject behind you.

"Master," Everyone greeted.

--- LOG END ---

(!Proceed with CAUTION!)

"Come visit the Dark Woods Circus!"

You handed people the pamphlets, your smile never leaving your face. While people could not see what was under the fabric covering your skin, you could feel your back throbbing with each second.

The rose sewn onto your face never withered but you could feel your sanity did. You could feel your guts dissolving all the meat you ate, they were no longer upset about the change of food. They were generous enough to share a rather large portion of it although they tend to bite you randomly.

The pair of Ace occasionally showed you tricks on how to fly while their hands roamed all over your skin.

The siren would sing for you while they felt their skin against yours.

The tall performers would also teach you how to twirl with them, although it truly was a shame they couldn't dance with you, perhaps just yet.

------

Pair of Ace : Lyney and Lynette, Lucy-Lucius

All-Eating Beast: Dottore and Collei, Childe, Sampo, Killeon and Dorothy

Deranged Siren: Columbina, Venti, Jingyuan, Blade (sorry not sorry), Mysrymie

Tall Performers: Diluc and Jean, March and Danheng, 03 and 004

Master: Arlecchino, Pierro, Tsaritsa, Neuvillette, Unknown God, Zhongli, Kafka, ???

(Platonic, sharing, or not depends on you)

--- After notes

Lump of meat = Rotting meat or human flesh

Siren = Leg-less, immobile

Pair of Ace = 1 shared body

Tall Performers = man-made legs

Reader = clipped dove

[farfromstrange]

Do No Harm: A Matt Murdock x Reader Series

PREVIEW

Masterlist | Series Masterlist (coming soon)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Doctor!Reader

Set during: Daredevil Season 1

Summary: Two years ago, you fled across the country, leaving your past far behind you. Dedicated to helping those in need, you only barely escaped the shadows that haunted you. But you managed; you changed your name, acquired an entirely new identity and a New York medical license – all for a chance at a new life. You somehow managed to get a job at Metro General in Hell’s Kitchen, rented a new apartment and made new friends. The person you claimed to be did, anyway. Everything was going well. Too well. Until one day, you run into Matt Murdock. In an instant, the safe haven you built for yourself starts to unravel, and you find yourself forced to face the very life you tried your hardest to escape.

Warnings: Angst, domestic violence, implied/referenced child abuse, substance abuse, canon typical violence, injury, mental illness, strong language, eventual smut, Black Suit, medical jargon (but I’m not a doctor), Reader has a fake name that is used for a big portion of this story ("Olivia Carter"), no y/n

A/n: I've been watching a lot of medical dramas lately to cope with the drama of life. This is how this idea came to life. I couldn't help myself. As mentioned in the warnings, Reader has a fake name due to her history, but it still a reader insert. I use "you" and she/her pronouns when referring to the Reader. So you can either see her as an OC or as yourself. I hope you guys enjoy this little gem! See more information below.

18+ for EXPLICIT CONTENT. MINORS DNI!

More under the cut.

ONE: Night Shift (coming December 1st)

Excerpt from Chapter 1

[…] Matt doesn’t want to be a liability, he doesn’t want to be the reason the people he loves get hurt, and yet it continues to happen time and time again.

Maybe he’s cursed. It’s the only explanation for how things are going for him now. Maybe God has a grudge and finally decided to exercise his right to make his life a living hell. There is an infinite number of possibilities, but none of them make sense.

He’s the anti-hero of his own story and that of everyone else who ever dared to let him into their lives. He’s his own worst enemy, his personal saboteur. His unwavering pride has a tendency to get in the way of his happiness, which often leads to more bad than good, but admitting that would leave him vulnerable and exposed—he can’t get hurt again.

It’s better to push the people he loves away before he can hurt them and force them to walk out on him the same way everyone else in his life has ever since he can remember. At least in his twisted mind, that’s true. […]

-> Story Aesthetic

If you want to be added to the tag list, please let me know! I do separate ones for all of my series because not everyone who filled out the tag list form wants to read an entire series. So, this will be tagged separately and only those who want me to.

[ephemii]

no offense but why are you tagging stuff for grace as “x reader”? Its annoying, if i wanted oc stuff id look for it on the correct tag

Hello :) I tagged it as "x reader" because my Yuu is basically a self-insert, and generally, I like making the content of my Yuu and the characters in a way that others might like to insert themselves or their own OCs in, like some sort of visual x reader lol—some people do that (hell, I do that), and that's totally fine by me.

To me, Yuu can either be a character on their own or just the player/reader embodied in a certain look. Whoever relates to it relates, and whoever doesn't doesn't, but the content still remains, so the imagination can fill in or replace anything. It sounds very logic-gymnastics when said out loud, I guess, but that's just the way I see it. Plus,, in the majority of the posts I made for my OC, it's always been in a vaguely romantic sense, specifically with Malleus. Additionally, "x readers" don't always have to be romantic. So when I add both the tags "x reader" and "twst oc" in my last post (which I'm assuming is what made you send me this ask), it's simply to express that there's at least some certain relationship going on. Again, that's just the way I see it, and I understand that my point of view isn't always gonna fit with others'.

allow me to add that this tag will be used by me even when I actually write "x reader" stories (obviously) and sometimes they WILL contain drawings of my OC as a way to illustrate the scenes-- for the reasons stated above. I really hope this makes sense haha,,,, It's really easy to just scroll past and ignore any post that you think doesn't fit in a tag, people make mistakes, and maybe they also have specific reasons for why they add a certain tag,,,, and I apologize if my post was a hindrance (I really did try to add a cut to make it as short as possible ^^;).

[animasola86]

4: A Special Need

This is a rather unusual story about a girl (reader) who comes across a special little friend that she likes very, very much. But does she love it more than she loves her boyfriend (Sebastian)?

Summary: Imagine: you have a weird little "hobby" that you don't want anyone to know about, but then things take a turn for the worse! In other words: Sebastian finds out about his girlfriend's little secret! Will he be jealous or will he accept it?

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!reader Genre: Smut // Words: 6.2k // [READ ON AO3]

WARNINGS: NSFW! Explicit sexual content! "Object" insertion! Tentacles/Teratophilia*! Angst! Vaginal sex! Kink shaming? (Additional tags on AO3!) (Side note: if you find the idea of using a squid as a sex toy weird/uncomfortable, please think of it as a dildo/vibrator/butt plug, maybe that'll make it easier to read!) Read at your own risk!

← CHAPTER 3 - // - CHAPTER 5 →

4

Once you accepted the fact that you carried around a tiny squid in your insides that would occasionally hum and throb and poke around in there, you didn't feel as weird about it any more (because you were too busy being aroused by it).

At first it was indeed strange, especially since the small creature seemed to test your boundaries by prodding your walls and keeping you stimulated throughout the whole day – which made basic interactions with other human beings very awkward when you suddenly flinched or winced or let a surprised moan fall from your lips, but the more it teased you, the better you became at ignoring it, or rather it seemed to learn that it couldn't be doing this all the bloody time. Maybe it also slept sometimes, you had no idea.

What you did know, was that it needed constant warmth and wetness, because when you tried putting the squid into a water bowl to keep it safe, it splashed about and crawled out of the bowl immediately, humming angrily as you picked it up off the floor. You started talking to it then, telling it you couldn't have it inside your pussy all day long, but it only hummed more angrily, its tentacles clawing at your fingers, its whole body shaking in what you thought was indignation.

Because the moment you lowered your hand and brought it close to your centre, it calmed down, almost purring now, and so you sighed, went back to the bathroom and let it crawl inside you once more. The more you did that, the less disturbing it became as you watched the creature disappear inside you, but it never stopped being arousing, and that made sitting in classes (or sitting in general) very difficult.

That first day after you found it – or it found you – might have been one of the strangest days of your life, and you'd clearly had your fair share of strange days. Despite being buried deep within your tightness, the little squid reacted differently to different surroundings, different people you talked to, different smells, noises, etc., by either forcefully crawling deeper, pinching your walls as it did so (which hurt) or by rubbing its tentacles against those spots that made your legs weak (which was also bad when you tried to use those legs but at least it felt better).

You knew then that it preferred the damp dungeons to the thin air of any of the towers, the quiet of the library to the bustling of the Great Hall, and weirdly enough the cold echoes of the Undercroft to the warm and bright atmosphere of your personal Room of Requirement, where you used to spent most of your time.

And looking at the data you collected, you realized that tiny squid was a lot like your boyfriend. Though whenever you spent time with Sebastian, the thing inside you was still on the fence if it liked him or not, especially since he couldn't keep his fingers to himself and tried on more than one occasion to invade your nowadays already occupied most personal space.

You managed to keep him away from your folds as best as you could without raising suspicion, mostly by distracting him in returning the favour, but you knew you'd have to find a solution to your little problem if you ever wanted to sleep with him again, which you wanted, every damn minute of the day, especially since you were so highly stimulated all the freaking time.

And as you couldn't (and wouldn't) leave your little friend somewhere it didn't like to be, your only solution was to stuff it somewhere similarly wet and warm and tight, but the first time you even tried to coax it there by pushing two fingers into your bum to ease its passage, it forcefully crawled back into your other hole, raging inside you for the next few minutes, causing you to almost lose your footing as you tried to make it back to your dorm room without your legs giving way under the constant stimulation.

Gasping for air, you could barely close the curtains of your bed before you were on your back, panting heavily as you wrestled your clothes off your body until you were able to press both hands between your legs and ride out the sensations caused by your angry little pet. When you came with a loud moan, it stilled inside you, and you realized then that it was feeding off your juices, calmed by the contractions of your body, and while you were still breathing hard and shivering from your intense orgasm, you pushed a finger between your folds and beckoned it to come out.

Its tentacles wrapped around your finger, and you gently pulled it the rest of the way before you brought the tiny squid – that didn't look as tiny any more now that you thought about it – closer to your face. It was glistening and warm, its scent mixing with yours, and when you pressed your lips to its wide head, it hummed against you. You still didn't exactly know where its eyes were, but you looked at it and it seemed to look back, and suddenly it jumped off your hand and crawled between your sticky thighs again.

You sighed, but then you felt it prodding against the tight ring of muscles curiously, and you inhaled deeply as you spread your legs wider and lifted your hips slightly, then used your own juices as lubricant as you pushed your middle finger into your tight arse, eliciting a quiet moan from your throat. The squid kept poking at your hand, and when you retrieved your finger, it pressed into you instead, its wide head struggling to fit, but its tentacles pushed it further until it was swallowed by your eager body, the rest of its long form sliding in with ease.

You thrashed your head back and groaned at the sensation. Between waves of pleasure and growing doubts about what the hell are you even doing, you slowly came to terms that this was your new normality. A normality you wanted to have, because it would have been easy to bring the squid back to the Lake, but you didn't want to part from it, not when it could give you all these kinds of sensations you had never experienced before. And apparently it liked to be with you too, because why would it crawl into your bum otherwise?

The blush became a constant feature on your cheeks as you traversed the castle with your little friend in either of your holes, switching it up whenever you needed to, and as you became accustomed to shoving it into your body at will, it too became accustomed to your rhythm and always did what you wanted from it.

That was until you were lying on the couch in the Undercroft with Sebastian one late night, kissing and cuddling, arms and legs entangled (because despite having your own little special sex toy friend, you still love being with him, your male human friend, for countless reasons).

As you roll on top of your boyfriend, the squid inside your bum starts stirring, and you gasp into his mouth unexpectedly, wincing slightly as you feel the creature crawling deeper as if to get away from whatever is happening outside its warm, wet den.

The sensation has your muscles clenching as you try to pull it back, really not wanting it to slip into your bowels, and your concentrated face makes Sebastian frown deeply. “Are you alright?” he asks quietly, his hands cupping your flushed face.

You nod distractedly, almost unable to breathe at this point. You've currently realized that every time you have an orgasm with the squid inside you, it would feed off it and grow, being a lot bigger now than it was when you first saw it crawling out of your pussy. Hence whenever it moves inside you now with its thicker tentacles clawing at your muscles, you'd feel it a lot more.

Inhaling deeply, you try to ignore the movement inside you, not sure what to do about it anyway, so you focus back on the freckled face in front of you and smile warmly before you lean in to kiss him, but he stops you, his eyebrows raised. “Are you sure you're alright?” he repeats, and you frown at the question. “You've been slightly off the last weeks. What's wrong?”

There it is, the question you've been dreading to receive. Of course he would notice the change in you, and carrying around a little sea creature in your insides that would occasionally bring you mind-blowing orgasms surely was a change you couldn't easily hide for too long, at least not from him. He is too perceptive for his own good. Yet despite being very open with him about basically anything, you just couldn't bring yourself to admit to the fact that there is something else that brings you great joy now.

Because Sebastian Sallow is still the most jealous boy you've ever met. And usually that isn't a problem because you barely give him reasons to be jealous, if at all, but having this tiny creature giving him a run for his money, so to speak, would make even the most not-jealous person furious, you just know it. And even if you obviously haven't replaced him for the squid living inside you, it might look to him like you have.

He is always sad when he has to say goodnight to you in front of your common room, knowing he would never be able to join you in your bed (and always tells you it's not the same to sleep on the lumpy couch in the Undercroft together), and if he finds out that this small creature can and has for about a whole month occupied the space he so desperately wants to be in, how can he not be absolutely devastated about it? (Also you don't want him to think you're weird for getting aroused by having a phallic-like creature crawling into your holes...)

So you kept it to yourself.

You hate lying to him, but it's for the better. “Nothing,” you answer his question with a smile, quickly leaning in to claim his mouth for another kiss to keep him busy. “It's just all the stress... the exams... the assignments... the fear of the future,” you add with a laugh, accentuating every word with a lingering kiss. “Don't worry about me, I bet all seventh-years feel like this these days.”

He hums against you in response, a deep sound that vibrates through your body, reminding you of the thing pulsing inside your bum. Clearing your throat, you put your hands on Sebastian's face and gently caress his cheeks.

“If you distract me tonight, everything will be better, I'm sure,” you whisper and wink at him, and with another deep hum leaving his throat, he grabs your shoulders and rolls you around until your back is pressed into the lumpy cushions of the couch, and he's hovering over you, his eyes dark and intense, and you shiver deeply upon seeing the hunger within them.

You're both out of your clothes in no time, and all you can think about is being close to him, become one with him, feel his skin on yours, share the sweat and slick, the moans and groans, hear his deep voice issue all these sounds that drive you crazy with lust while his hands grip you tight enough to leave marks, and you need those marks, as a reminder that he is the most important person in your life, and vice versa. And no strange magical sea creature will ever come between you – or so you hope.

Because suddenly your thoughts are back with the pulsing thing lodged inside you, and it's not the first time you wonder how it would be for Sebastian to find the squid there on his exploration of your body. Every possible scenario you've come up with is worse than the last, and you dread the day it will eventually happen. Maybe today isn't that day, you think as he starts moving his hands along your sides whilst kissing you deeply, and you squirm beneath him, hoping he isn't too adventurous today.

You've talked about anal sex before, yet never done it, but you know he wouldn't try something new without asking you first, and as he's busy kissing along your neck and working in more love bites, you assume your arse is safe for tonight, or rather that what is hidden inside. As your body starts reacting to his touches, you feel the squid pulsing even more, adding to the growing tension inside your stomach.

And tense you are, inside and out, and you don't even know why. This isn't the first time you had sex while that tiny creature was inside you, but that's the thing: it used to be much smaller then. You might have overdone it with your alone time recently as it only has become bigger in the last days.

Your mind is spinning as you're caught up in the never-ending cycle of thinking about possible what if scenarios, and you're so distracted that you barely feel Sebastian's preparations, his fingers working swiftly, and only when he pushes his cock into you with one single hard thrust, you come back to your senses and cry out in a mixture of shock and surprise as he buries himself completely inside of you. Your breath hitches in your throat as you stare up at him, propped up on his arms as his dark eyes wander over your face.

You hold onto his wrists as you start bucking your hips against him in an attempt to move along as if you haven't been lost in your own mind for the last minutes or more. He remains bent over you, his thighs pushing your legs upwards as he shifts only slightly against you. When he rests his heavy erection inside your tight walls, you can feel the squid pushing against your muscles from the other side, wanting to join the action apparently, and your eyes widen as you realize that he must feel it too, so you quickly start grinding your hips against him, clenching your walls deliberately, even grabbing the back of his neck to pull his face down to yours.

He obliges and meets your trembling lips, his kiss soft and careful, but you quickly make it messier, needier, as you deepen it with your tongue slipping into his mouth. With a deep grunt he leans down on his elbows and kisses you back with just the same amount of fervour, maybe even more. You wrap your arms around his neck and start pushing your hips upwards against him until he finally moves as well, drawing back and plunging in, over and over again, quickly falling into a steady rhythm that is both fast and deep, and it doesn't take long for you to completely succumb to the sensations.

Moaning against his lips you feel the tension inside your stomach erupting into a wave of pure pleasure as it washes over you with a force that makes your thighs twitch, your toes curl and your muscles contract violently, and in doing so you feel your insides convulsing, moving, and in your haze you barely feel the gentle caresses of these eight little arms you've grown to love so much over the last weeks. Yet once you realize that the squid is about to slip from your bum, it is already too late.

Despite being caught in his own haze as he ruts into your core with reckless abandon, he seems to feel the foreign touch as well, and you see it all unfold in slow motion. You feel too weak to do anything as your orgasm still shudders through your body, as your walls clamp down on his cock, your limbs too twitchy to control, so when his brown eyes widen slowly before he leans back on his knees and stares down at your connection, you don't have to see the tentacles wrapping themselves around his base to know what's going on.

With a deep growl that could also be a yelp or guttural scream, Sebastian jolts off you, slips from your depths as if you've never even been connected, and takes several steps away from the couch, completely ignoring his precum leaking cock, as his shaking hand points at the small creature crawling over your centre. Yet it's not the fact that there is a strange little squid seemingly coming from nowhere that has touched him at the most inappropriate time, it's the fact that you remain so calm and collected as you lie on your back, looking from the squid to your boyfriend and back, and not sharing in his panic.

That's when he explodes.

“What the fuck is that?” he yells with an anger you haven't heard from him in years.

“Sebastian...” you manage to croak out, your voice just a breathy whisper as you lower your hand towards the creature that seems to lean towards your touch, when it's suddenly grabbed by a bigger hand. “No!” you call out and sit up quickly, ignoring the trembling of your own legs, and quickly grab his wrist, keeping him from hurling the poor creature through the entirety of the Undercroft.

The stare he is giving you chills you to your bones. “What are you doing?” he says threateningly quiet, and you know he is more than pissed if he resorts to talking in this low tone.

“Don't hurt it,” you whisper, gently prying his tight fingers open to free the small squid from his crushing hold. To your surprise he lets you, and when he watches you cradle the creature between your hands, his mouth falls open. “It didn't mean any harm...” you add softly.

“You... know that thing?” he says in an even quieter voice, slipping from shock to disappointment to indignation.

You inhale deeply, feeling the squid's little arms coil around your fingers. “I... I do,” you then admit, biting your lip as you look back up at Sebastian, meeting his wide eyes that narrow as he takes in your words.

“You keep a pet squid around?” he asks in a mixture of disbelief and confusion. “Where do you even keep it? Where did it come from?”

That's when your face turns bright red, and you turn away from him, trying to find an answer that wouldn't humiliate you completely. “It... wasn't supposed to crawl out...” you whisper barely audible, your eyes frantically searching the couch and its surroundings for a possible storage place. Before you even consider a different answer than the awful truth, you feel a warm body behind you as Sebastian points past you towards the pile of clothes on the ground.

“You shouldn't keep a squid inside the pocket of your robes,” he comments, and you are tempted to laugh at how innocent and easy it would have been to tell him just that. That you keep the squid in your pocket, instead of where you really keep it.

“Yes...” you breathe, your voice about to break before you clear your throat. “You're right...”

“I suppose it got curious, huh?” he says then, leaning over you to take another, much calmer look at the creature in your hands. “Why is it so... wet?”

His words cause you to gasp and shiver. “Uh... m-magic,” you then stammer the lie that could have been the truth all along. “Keeps it... wet...”

Suddenly you feel very stupid, not just that, disturbingly weird, downright demented and perverted and absolutely disgusting, as you realize you could have kept the squid in a different kind of environment, if you so much as thought about it properly, but your lust for the sensations it invokes in you has been clouding your mind, making you think it is normal and the only way to shove that thing into your holes to keep it safe.

Shaking your head, you bite down hard on your bottom lip to keep the tears of frustration down. The creature in your hands pulses slightly, its tendrils nudging your fingers. Next to you Sebastian is watching you almost the same way the squid seems to look at you. His anger is completely gone from his face. He tilts his head, and out of the corner of your eye you see him examining the elongated body of the squid and its wide head, and you hear it in the way he inhales deeply, that his mind is slowly aligning with yours, despite everything.

“Where do you really keep that?” he whispers into your ear, causing you to shudder deeply. “Because, you know, I've noticed something about that little guy...”

You hold your breath as you stare at your palms and the thing on them.

“It's rather... phallic looking, isn't it?” he keeps whispering, leaning closer to you, his warm body pressing into yours. Your hands start to tremble, and you yelp quietly when he suddenly closes his bigger hands around yours, seemingly supporting the squid on them. “Is that why you've been so distracted lately?”

His question impales you like an icicle, numbing you with a sudden cold rushing down your spine. He knows. He knows exactly where that thing has been and what you've been doing with it these last weeks, and the realization makes your heart stop. But he doesn't sound angry, he sounds... amused. Almost mocking. Definitely teasing.

And you wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole. Preferably you and the squid, so you're not alone in your eternity in hell. Even thinking that makes you want to groan loudly, show your frustration about yourself and the situation and how you've handled it and the fact that your boyfriend knows and doesn't explode in rage and how absolutely embarrassing and mortifying and humiliating it all is and –

When you feel his lips on your burning cheek, you freeze, blinking slowly. “Red suits you, love,” he whispers and walks back to sit down on the couch, crossing his legs slightly as he looks up at you, the smuggest expression on his freckled face you have ever seen.

Swallowing hard, you meet his gaze, but you can only bear it for so long before you look back at the squid lying in your hands, gently humming, seemingly observing the scene around it – and the mayhem it has caused by slipping into your pussy in the first place. For a moment you project your anger and frustration at the stupid phallic looking thing, and it seems to sense the shift in your demeanour as its tendrils tentatively close around your fingers, gripping strongly while it pulses against your skin, trying to remind you of the good times it's given you.

“You two want to be alone then?” Sebastian's voice cuts through the little moment you had with your unusual pet, and when you look up at him, he laughs deeply as your eyes narrow and you throw him the darkest gaze you might have ever thrown him. He laughs even more at that. “Come on, love, don't be so tense... you might squish the little guy.”

“Stop!” you call out in rage as you stare at him. He raises his eyebrows, the laugh frozen on his face. “Stop with the... innuendos and the... the... just stop!” you whine out and turn away as tears start flowing down your cheeks.

You feel horrible, childish and embarrassed and deeply disturbed at your own actions. For a moment you want to hurl the squid through the Undercroft for real. But you don't, you keep it safe between your trembling fingers, as you chew on your lips and let out quiet sobs, your tears dripping from your chin and down onto its long body.

Behind you, you can hear the quiet squeak of the couch and then the tapping of bare feet coming closer. “I'm sorry,” you hear his deep whisper close to you. He still keeps his distance, but you can feel the warmth of his body, and for a moment you are tempted to turn around and throw your arms around him and bury your wet face in his chest, but you don't move, you can't, you don't know how to handle the situation.

Luckily for you, despite taking a piss out of you initially, Sebastian is better at talking than you give him credit for sometimes. “Listen,” he starts quietly, hovering behind you. “I didn't mean to belittle you like that. Or even judge you for it. That's not my place. I'm here to support you, you know that, right?”

You inhale deeply, chewing on the inside of your cheek nervously.

He keeps going. “You know, having... certain desires is something completely normal, or it should be, even if society may think differently. But it doesn't matter what others think, me included, when it comes to your happiness. And if that... thing in your hand makes you happy, then I am happy too. For you. If this is a way for you to decompress, to relieve stress, then that's totally fine. I know I can't be with you every hour of the day to do exactly that, so I am glad that you found a different way to keep your mind... well, not busy, the opposite really, uh, to keep your stress levels low by... uh... doing whatever it is you're doing...”

The more he struggles to find the right words, the more the corners of your mouth twitch. He's trying, and you love him even more for it. Holding the squid in one hand, you lower your other hand and slowly turn around to him. His gaze moves from your hand to your eyes quickly, and seeing the slight blush on his cheeks warms your heart.

But despite his stammering, he doesn't seem to be done. “And you know, I think it's... incredibly sexy to have a girlfriend who knows what she wants...” he whispers softly, giving you a warm smile as he extends his hand and gently grabs your free one. “Even if it's fucking a phallic looking sea creature...”

Your mouth falls open, and you are tempted to slap him if only you had a hand to do so. He chuckles softly and leans in to press his lips to your cheek as you struggle to free your hand from his grip.

“I'm sorry,” he says again, looking deep into your eyes as you stare at him, still indecisive whether to forgive him or not. Then again you should be grateful that he's actually trying to understand your situation instead of just fussing about it. Weirdly enough he doesn't even seem jealous. And why should he? You would never replace him with a little squid. Right?

Then again, a magical little creature like that would never look at you like he does now, saying he doesn't judge you and then still make jokes about it. But maybe that is who he is, always resorting to humour when things get too serious, too tough, too outlandish? Too strange to understand? If you look past your own lust-filled mind, you do realize that it's strange, of course it is, it's abnormal, it's – no. No, it's not. It's what makes you happy, like he said. It's only embarrassing because nobody tries to understand the needs you have.

And if that need is – yeah, we get it.

Sighing deeply, you close your eyes, press your lips into a thin line, and focus on the soft pulsing that thrums through your hand as you hold the little squid. Not as little any more, which makes the whole deal even harder to understand, but maybe it's not about understanding after all. It's about acceptance. Before anyone else, you realize you have to accept your own desires, no matter how twisted and disturbing and wrong they may be, and once you can do that, others will too – as seen by the patient gaze Sebastian is throwing you as you eventually open your eyes again.

He gently squeezes your hand, and you squeeze right back as you try to smile at him. His other hand is at your face then, as he wipes at your wet cheeks. “Come on,” he whispers and pulls you back towards the couch without another word. You follow him without hesitation. He sits down, and you sit beside him, placing the squid on your lap, watching it lie there for a moment in the groove between your closed legs, its tendrils twitching, lazily moving over your thighs towards your hidden centre.

“Eager little guy,” Sebastian comments quietly as he wraps one arm around your shoulder, joining you in watching the creature move on your lap.

“It sometimes reminds me of you, you know?” you whisper then, your voice hoarse.

He laughs. “Really?”

“It's eager, as you said, but also considerate, and seems to be able to read my mind and does everything I want... it's always there for me, it makes me happy, very happy...” you list quietly before turning your head to him, smiling shyly. “Just like you.”

He looks at you silently, his eyes warm.

“It's also, obviously, a great lover, but you knew that already, right?” you add with a smirk that finally breaks his silence as he barks a loud laugh.

“Is it better than me?” he teases, nudging your shoulder.

“Comparing people is really an unhealthy thing to do, you know?” you whisper with a quiet chuckle that makes him raise an eyebrow. “You are both very unique in everything that you do.”

His eyebrow rises even higher at that.

You lean closer and grab his chin to tilt it down before you kiss his lips softly. “Don't be jealous,” you whisper. “You have no reason to be. I love you, Sebastian,” you add, kissing him again.

He keeps staring at you before his eyes wander down to your lap where the squid is trying to press itself between your thighs, eager to get away apparently. “Maybe it is jealous...” he says quietly.

“Oh it most certainly is, it acts weird when I'm with you, it –”

His eyes narrow playfully. “Now, exactly where do you hide it, when you're with me?”

Your face turns bright red all over again. Hitting his chest, you groan. Instead of saying anything, you inhale deeply and shift on the couch, slowly opening your legs as you do so. The squid's tentacles grip your thighs as it sees its chance, and while you know what's about to happen, you look up at Sebastian, who stares at your crotch with his eyes wide and his mouth open and his face just as red as yours as he witnesses how the not so little creature presses his long body between your tight folds and vanishes inside your body in a swift motion that makes you shudder deeply.

“Bloody hell,” he whispers with his voice slightly higher than normal. “That's...” You see his lips moving, but no more sounds come from him. It's almost amusing if it wouldn't be equally mortifying. But then he finishes his sentence, and it's your turn to stare at him. “Hot. That's hot. I don't know what else to say, but you have no idea how much that turned me on just now...”

Your laugh is both surprised and soft, and when your eyes wander over his body, you laugh even louder. “Oh I have some idea...” you whisper, your hand gliding over his thigh before you pull his legs apart slightly, revealing his proudly erect cock.

He meets your gaze and smirks at you before his hands find your face and a second later his lips yours as he smashes his mouth against your own. You gasp into the sudden kiss, but quickly grab the back of his neck and kiss him back almost desperately. Happy to be back on normal terms with him, and not just that, apparently on even better ones.

You had no idea he would react like this. Not once in your many what-if-scenarios was this the outcome. And you're glad that, despite it all, he can still surprise you like that.

Somehow you end up in your original position, back pushed into the cushions of the couch with Sebastian leaning on his elbows and his body weighing down on yours. You can feel his erection pressing against your thigh, while deep inside you, the squid starts thrumming against your walls, mirroring the tension that's building in your stomach.

“So,” he whispers between kisses. “Seeing that my... favourite hole of yours... is currently... occupied... how about I... explore your other one... tonight?”

You laugh against his lips. “You don't like to share a hole?”

He frowns at that. “Would it want that?”

“Would you want that?” you ask back.

“No, no, would you want that? I'd imagine that might be rather... painful?” He watches you closely, shifting slightly on top of you.

“Painful for whom?”

“You!” he exclaims with a surprised chuckle. “Or... it? Or me? Does it bite? What if it gets jealous and strangles me with those... tentacles?”

Your turn to chuckle. “It might get territorial if it's too tight, you're right,” you then agree, smirking at him.

His concern turns into that smug expression you love and hate so much. “Better leave it alone in there. Besides, it did have its chance in your... tight... little... bum,” he then says, accentuating his words by slipping his hand under your body and teasing your puckered hole with careful little prods. “Didn't it?”

You squirm against him, laughing softly. “And you won't be sad that you're not the first to breach my... little bum?” you ask quietly, biting your swollen lip.

He gives you a playful pout before he smiles widely. “Nah, it can have that. I was your first in everything else,” he says proudly, leaning closer to kiss you deeply. “Your first kiss,” he adds and moves his hand around your hip and towards your centre. “Your first love, your first... lover, your first boyfriend, in that order,” he laughs softly, and you feel his fingers teasing your folds.

As he does, the squid inside you starts stirring, humming almost angrily, and soon enough you feel the familiar tickle of its tentacles pushing past your entrance, and when they do, you see Sebastian's eyes widening as he quickly withdraws his hand. He leans back on his knees and stares at the little tendrils protruding like angry little antennas before they slip back into you, vanishing out of sight. He clears his throat and shakes his head, exhaling a laugh.

“I might never get used to that sight...” he whispers, a slight blush spreading over his freckled shoulders. “How does it feel?” he then asks, looking back at you.

You rub your warm cheeks. “Really good,” you admit. “It's humming right now, and it can make its body soft or hard, depending on... well, what I need. And the tentacles... tickle nicely, but they also have a really strong grip, and some can become bigger and –” You stop talking as you notice the smirk on his lips, and you blush an even deeper shade of red.

“You sound happy,” he then whispers and surprises you yet again.

You smile shyly. “I am,” you reply before you reach out your arms to beckon him closer to you. He complies and lies down on top of you, his weight pushing you into the cushions. “And not because I have a... phallic looking thing inside my pussy, okay?” you clarify with a laugh as you press your lips to his warm cheek. “I'm happy because you accept me for what I am... what I do... what I... need...”

He cradles your head between his big hands and kisses you softly. “Of course, love,” he says quietly. “I'm here for you and your needs... even if I'm sometimes an idiot about it...”

You poke his jaw in response and grin at him. He smirks against your lips. “Thank you,” you whisper and close your eyes as he leans closer to plant soft kisses on your forehead, your temple and your eyelid.

“Don't thank me yet, I will ravage that sweet little bum of yours tonight,” he then says and leans back on his arms, smiling down at you despite the dark gleam in his eyes. “Right?” At least he still asks you about it.

You chuckle and nod. “Please do,” you breathe softly, biting your lip.

That's all he needs to hear before he scrambles off you and grabs your waist, almost forcefully flipping you onto your stomach. You let out a surprised yelp-laugh, feeling your insides churning in anticipation, which in turn makes the creature inside your tight walls pulse and thrum almost aggressively, its body hardening as it prods against your soft flesh. You gasp under the sensation and when Sebastian lifts your hips up and starts kneading your bum cheeks eagerly.

Your face is pressed into the cushions of the couch as you try to get into a more comfortable position. Your heart is thundering inside your chest, and you just know this will be a night to remember, all parties involved will make sure of that, you can already feel it in your aching muscles.

← CHAPTER 3 - // - CHAPTER 5 →

Notes: Originally this is where the "short fic/long oneshot" ends, but I kept writing and writing, and two more chapters came from my fingers... so there'll be more, much more of this filthy little tale!

*Also I'm not too sure I labeled this right. A squid isn't technically a monster (even though it's closest because of its tentacles and magical nature I guess?), so it's not technically Teratophilia (attraction to monsters), but I also don't want to call this Zoophilia (attraction to animals) because even though a squid is more or less an animal, it just gives off a different vibe. Maybe it's more akin to Ophidiophilia (attraction to snakes)... Difficult thing, these niche kinks.

The time I spent worrying about the correct label when this is just a silly little smut fic. Oh well.

Thanks for reading!

[ MASTERLIST ] [ AO3 ]

[koukouture]

Kou's AO3 ffxiv fic rec list

I am so insane and I literally have only been reading FFXIV fanfics for like the past four or so months so here r some of my favorites

I will split it up into three categories: reader inserts, WoL OCs, and then yk fics with only the characters.

WARNING: I read lots of unsavory shit so please heed the tags in the links as I will not be going over those in this list.

*length of fics will be rounded to nearest thousand

Reader insert's

The Rise of Emperor Solus zos Galvus by amandaterasu

(Emet Selch x reader) Length: 25k Status: Complete (one shot) Review: You don't understand I think about this fic at least once a day oh my fucking LORD. 25k words just GONE in an instant I read this in like under an hour. Actually gigging and kicking my feet this shit bro liiiiiike the way this author writes Emet Selch... ouuuuughhh. I love it when a man is just so insane for his woman that he finds her in another life and immediately starts courting her. Honestly, this shit is just so good it reads almost like a historical drama in the best ways possible. Yeah it's romance (and smut) but it's also politics (kinda) and idk about you but those are my two favorite things. I now need a full length novel about Emet Selch's rise to emperor of Garlemald but yk what this shit is just as good. Bonus points for this author for introducing me to fanfic reading extensions to replace certain terms I will be using this from now on.

Tremble, Duck, & Weave by OwlEspresso

(Estinien, Aymeric, Haurchefant, Urianger x reader) Length: 31k Status: Incomplete Review: This inspired my current big project, Hellbound and yeah idk something about Ishgardian politics man. I'm gonna warn you right now a lot of these reader insert recs WILL be yandere/yandere-adjacent with a lot of unhealthy themes, general debauchery, and doves ranging from beaten to dead so uh... yeah. That aside, this is just a really fun time. Seeing everyone interact with the reader insert and all the different ways they show (or think about) their twisted affections... hnnnng it makes me a little insane okay. Also, shout out to pervert Haurchefant you will always be near and dear to my heart. We were ROBBED in the English translation

Captivate by samsaur

(Aymeric and Estinien x reader) Length: 41k Status: Incomplete Review: Remember what I said about doves ranging from being beaten up to dead? Well, the dove is definitely dead here, but it's rlly juicy because this shit really does feel like a horror story. I am not qualified to speak on it, but I think this is a great portrayal of Stockholm syndrome and the way it's written really puts you into the shoes of the reader insert and you kind of feel that hot and silent shame of being held captive like this. Also, one of my favorite niches of FFXIV fanfics is apparently villain Aymeric. Idk why but he is so good as a villain probably because he had every single reason to turn out one, and he would be a far more terrifying villain than Thordan. If Aymeric wasn't our ally during Heavensward, he would undoubtedly be a huge threat to us and this fic kinda takes that and dangles it over your head. Because, yes, Aymeric is holding the reader captive but he is also helping Alphinaud and Tataru out. It's this balancing act where we know Aymeric is capable of really fucked up things but he is still playing at the perfect image of our noble ally. You find yourself yelling at everyone else not to trust him because you, the reader and his captive, know that he is a piece of shit in this AU and I think it's glorious. Uhhh Estinien is there too ig. It's no fault on the author's part but I just don't really vibe with Estinien as a love interest. Though, his dynamic with Aymeric and the reader is extremely interesting to me. I can't say too much without spoiling all the fun, but I think in a way Aymeric has him trapped under this thumb too.

I'd Ask For Your Soul, But It's Already Mine by Dotharl

(Zenos x reader) Length: 29k Status: Incomplete Review: Guys it's fucking Zenos PLEASE read the tags on this one. Anyways I love my porn kjakjfjkjakhshjfjhk. Okay but genuinely I always say this, but Zenos is surprisingly genuine as a love interest because he doesn't put WoL up on a pedestal and just loves them for all of their worst bits and THAT is the appeal of enemies to lovers. This fic plays with that, especially with the reader insert being a Dark Knight WoL where Fray talks some sense into them and helps them recognize their self worth. I won't lie to you, this fic starts out with VERY fucked up Yandere fuckboy Zenos energy with all of the dubcon included, but I kinda don't care + it's just genuinely well written at times. The dynamic between WoL and Zenos is very nice here, bc yeah it starts out... like that and then it evolves into mutual respect when the reader realizes that Zenos would treat them well and not yk use them as a weapon. Albeit, it does go kind of quick but eh, it's like 4 chapters so I can't fault the author THAT much. Besides, not to diminish the fic, but it IS pretty clearly just kind of a pornfest and that is A-Okay with me! This shit was also last updated in like 2022 so I'm pretty sure it's abandoned.

Not a Champion, Just a Knight by Kei_Cordelle

(Haurchefant x reader)

Length: 23k Status: Incomplete Review: This one is in kind of a weird position because this is an AU where WoL dies at the Vault instead of Haurchefant, so there isn't exactly any HaurcheWoL action to speak of. But, WoL definitely haunts the characters' actions. Bro, when I tell you, the worst part of this fic is actually Alphinaud being very NOT OKAY bc WoL is dead. He is just a baby what the fuck do you mean he watched his friend, confidant, and hero die in front of him???? Yeah sorry I love Alphinaud a normal amount. (that is my SON) Anyways, this is written in first person which is weirdly a turn off for some people? I don't get the hate tbh, because first person just opens up so many fun opportunities! You can break the fourth wall much easier and directly address the reader, and you can also have the vibe that this is a retrospective of what the character saw. The later is definitely the vibe this fic gives. It's like, if the Heavensward memoir was written from Haurche's perspective in this AU. To me, I like to think that this fic is Haurchefant telling the tale of his greatest love and regret in writing. I feel like the action scenes could use some work but they're not terrible. It's just that they're literally one to one recounting of the Heavensward trials and it's just not the best. I think there's also the issue of the cast becoming slightly bloated so it is a bit rough to account for everyone's actions during fight sequences. I really do love this fic though because I think it's really interesting to see how everyone is unraveling. Obviously, we as the WoL take on a lot of things that are almost impossible for everyone else so to see them take on the monumental burden of the hero is very interesting. How would our companions react to certain things? Since during most trials in canon we take it on alone, how does everyone else fit in? Are they all doing the mechanics correctly? All in all, solid fic and I am holding out hope for that fated final fifth chapter since the last time it was updated was back in January and it was started back in 2022 so one day I hope that this will be complete and I get to see the final mental breakdown as the squad completes Heavensward with the legacy of WoL looming over them ✨

WoL OC Inserts

Coerthan Traitor by Cascanora (@cascanora here on Tumblr)

(Zenos x OC, a bit of typical Emet Selch and Azem reincarnation messiness) Length: 190k (GOD DAMN-) Status: Ongoing Review: The author of this fic is highkey like a celebrity to me bc I gobble up their art like it's fucking Christmas morning. Imagine being God's favorite and being blessed with the ability to draw AND WRITE??? Fucking insanity bro. Also, their OC, Crow is fine as hell like one chance ma'am pleeeeeeaaaaaseeee goddddddd- Anyways onto the actual fic, I am admittedly only on the first arc which is kind of like the childhood arc ig. But I really love it so far because I've just never seen anyone really write Zenos being kind of young and vulnerable and playful? That's a lie, I think I've read like one Zenos fluff that I'll have to dig through my AO3 history to find again (bc you'd best believe none of my bookmarks are fluffly...) so I just really like the change of pace. Zenos is obviously always put in more enemies to lovers type scenarios so I kinda like this different angle because yeah maybe he was something resembling normal at one point. Obviously he's very fucked up for a reason, but he was a kid too. He didn't always go off about biting jugulars and drinking blood or something, he got fucked up. I am so far absolutely living for a lot of the political stuff bc as I've said before, romance with a side of politics (or vice versa) is my cup of tea and nobody pulls this shit off better than fanfic authors. I'm really interested to see where the political stuff goes but it's like 2am (sheesh) as I'm writing this so I will have to delve further into this fic later. Anyways can I take a moment to talk about Crow and Zenos? Because they're so fucking cute I love themmmmm. I feel like I'm coming at this as someone who has seen a lot of Cascanora's art so I see when Crow and Zenos' relationship develop into when they're adults, so seeing the early stages of it is really cool to me. I don't quite know how to explain it? But anyways I am raving about this fic bc I think it just builds them both up so well and again, I don't see Zenos written to be playful and yk act his age the way he does around Crow. They just work together so well and while at the point of the story I'm at they're definitely just friends, I think that's the beautiful thing about friends to lovers. Regardless if it's romantic or platonic love, Zenos and Crow are a package deal. Also, Emet Selch/Solus in this fic is perfect. I LOVE my geriatric old man telling stories about his past. I would go off about how I am very captivated by the whole Galvus family dynamic but I will save that for the other fics bc this review section is already super fucking long and you had BEST BELIEVE I'm scouring the internet for Galvus family fics. I lied I will talk about this a little more because this strikes an odd chord with me as someone who wrote a lot of my own longform OC x Canon growing up. I kinda shamed myself off doing that kinda stuff as I got older, but diving into FFXIV where everyone becomes fucking Shakespear with their WoLs has made me let go of my fears of being a cringefailure and embrace the OC x Canon. To see really well written and thought out OC insert stuff is very comforting to me bc I often worry abt my own OCs being shitty and not really fitting in but fics like this assure me that hey, maybe I can make cool shit and that really is the most beautiful part of fanfiction and fandom in general. Fandom is this incredible loop of finding amazing shit and thinking "wow, I wanna do that too" and it's just really rewarding.

Save the Last Dance For Me by lalahganaja

(Alphinaud x WoL OC) Length: 11k Status: Complete (yatta!!!!) Review: ALPHINAUD MY BEAUTIFUL SONNNNN AAAAAAAARRRGGHHHSJGFKJGSGKHJHJF. This fic is so delightful bc it feels like I'm cheering on my children to kiss. A'tahja is so fucking precious and her and Alphinaud just bounce off each other so well. This fic also has the other Scions making an appearance and I fucking love it so much. Found family will never NOT make me absolutely batshit insane. Like yes, Y'shtola mamma cat <3 anyways *chews on Alphinaud and A'tahja* This is just so insanely fluffy and it made me slam my desk every few minutes bc cute teenage love story!!!! How can I not!!!! Alphinaud just acts like an adult a lot of the time and gets put in a lot of adult situations, but in this fic he just gets to be a little guy. A'tahja too, obviously as the WoL she's often off doing insane shit that no teenager should ever have to do and bearing burdens that are too much for a little skrunkly such as herself. But here they just get to be silly little kiddies who are very down bad for each other and it's adorable. I think another thing I really liked was A'tahja getting more in touch with her femininity? Idk how to put. But basically she had really short hair for most of her life bc she pretended to be a boy while in poverty, so to see her be A) pampered and B) learn to take care of herself and be more girly was super cute to see. Also, I am just always really surprised whenever I remember that Alphinaud can drink lmao. Like no, you are a baby (I was the same age as Alphinaud when I started playing this game) put the beer down and go sip on a capri sun or smth. God. Kids these days...

Canon character fics (?)

and i'm your clone, your strange creation by egg(strwpup)

(Fortemps familial angst from Artoirel's pov) Length: 6k Status: Complete (oneshot) Listen to me, I love this fic beyond words, but for the sake of my mental health I will NEVER read this shit again. My daddy issues go fucking DEEP like this is utter insanity. Don't get me wrong it is beautifully written and I love complicated family dynamics- but by god this fucked me up so bad. See, I like to personally believe that Edmont was a good, albeit flawed father but his sons know that he loves them and they love him in turn. But I know deep down in my heart of hearts that it is so much more complicated than that because you know, we can't have nice things here at Square Enix. It just personally fucks me up because I too, like Artoirel in this fic, am a momma's boy at heart and I... kinda hate my dad lmao. Basically, I kin Artoirel in this fic. Oldest child who has it out for my father + hates that I'm kinda like him. He loves his mother but holds contempt for his father, perhaps unfairly but can you blame him? (yeah I'm not only describing Artoirel here...) Edmont is a less than stellar father in this fic but you can tell he loves his kids and aaaaaaaaa I'm tearing up again. The complicated family dynamics + the drama of what happened in Heavensward is just so fucking delicious bro. 10/10 this fic destroyed me in every sense of the word and I do not want to go through that emotional reckoning again. However, I will be writing Edmont as a shitty dad in my fics now. Sorry but I am always just so insane for that sweet sweet eldest child and father dynamic because it's always so disastrous. Having parents is just so strange.

mon corps, le mien; mon coeur, le tien by steelthighsvoideyes

(Aymeric x Haurchefant x Estinien with a side of angst + Haurchefant survives the Vault AU) Length: 43k Status: Incomplete Review: I also started tearing up while writing this review because Haurchefant just does that to me okay? I feel like with a lot of Ishgard trio ship fics Haurche is always kind of left out? Or, he feels a bit tacked on to the Estimeric dynamic. That, or he's just sitting there with unrequited love bc clearly this man has not suffered enough. With this fic however, it definitely feels a lot more balanced. Like yeah a majority of the fic is just Haurchefant and Estinien bonding in the hospital, but Aymeric still feels present because of their shared past and how it's constantly being brought up. (in a good way) All three of them get the spotlight so you don't really lean towards one pairing. Romance aside, I really like the Ishgard trio's established dynamic in this fic because they're just guys being dudes. Besties who were in the military together. Like, Aymeric balances the trio out, Haurchefant is the sort of boisterous youngest member and Estinien is gruff and sarcastic and the banter between the three of them just flows so naturally. It's an actual friendship dynamic that serves as a solid foundation for what will hopefully be a romantic dynamic later on. Once again, friends to lovers is so good for this reason because the foundation is already there. You appreciate them as a person and you are aware of their flaws from the get-go, so when it turns romantic you skip a lot of the awkward exploration phase and can just be comfortable with each other. Anyways as for the crying part- the Fortemps familial drama follows Haurche throughout this fic and it does make me a little, tiny bit crazy. Not gonna spoil it, but the way Haurchefant feels about his family in this fic is just so real and visceral because of course it's super complicated. Once again, I like Edmont being a good dad, but realistically, it's shades of gray. Another thing about Haurchefant that not only this fic does but a lot of other people also head canon, is that his selflessness and willing to give can be self destructive at times. Once again, not gonna spoil, but it's just super heartbreaking to read Haurchefant be almost hypocritical, telling his friends to take care of themselves only for him to almost completely disregard himself. That's kind of what he does at the Vault in the first place, like that man died knowing that he did the right thing and protected his friend and oh god I'm gonna cry again I should stop talking... (I am not even kidding when I say that I will eventually write a Haurchefant character essay...)

Unicorn's Favor by Neyasochi

(Aymeric x Haurchefant x Estinien, yet another Haurche survives the Vault AU) Length: 34k Status: Complete Review: So, this is one of those fics where I feel Haurchefant is kinda just taped onto the Estimeric dynamic, and that's fine, it's whatever, I'm here for the porn and the banter. The premise of this fic is that Haurche helps get Estinien and Aymeric together and then smutty gay things happen. And that's all well and good BUT I NEED TO TALK ABOUT THE FORTEMPS BROTHERS IN THIS FIC!!! *holds them gentle* For me, the best part of this fic was Haurchefant's relationship with his family which for a change, is NOT super angsty and complicated. It's all very heartwarming to see how in this fic the brothers get along very well (contrary to canon where unfortunately we know they were never very close) and to see Haurchefant really appreciate that he's still alive and gets to be around the people he loves more. It's just super cute and fluffy and now I just need fics like this in general. Yeah whatever it's not canon that the Fortemps bros actually like each other this much BUT IDC!!!! YOU NEVER SEPERATE TRIOS!!!! Speaking of trios, the Ishgard trio dynamic in this is yk it's fine it's whatever. In this particular fic, I find it quite cute that Haurche had a crush on Aymeric as a kid, so even if they aren't all buddy buddy in this fic there's still that lingering admiration and it's cute. I also completely swear by pansexual Haurchefant bc that man does NOT discriminate. Okay enough abt the French I will talk about the Italians (Romans) now.

Far colder on the earth than in the heavens by Altimas_Bane

(Galvus family things) Length: 7k Status: Complete Review: I told you I love my familial angst. No, I'm NOT okay. It DOES make me absolutely rabid that Emet Selch as Solus couldn't help but have some hope for the sundered because of Lucius because can you fucking imagine that??? Your son who gave you a little bit of hope for the broken, shattered people who replaced your brethren dies and that is the nail in the coffin. That is what makes you fully believe that they are unworthy. It was briefly mentioned in the short story "Through his Eyes", but Emet Selch had a little bit of hope for Lucius, and he was probably distraught when his son died. This fic goes over that agonizing feeling of watching someone slowly waste away from sickness. It is slow, it is painful, and it is gut wrenching. Idk man, just read it.

Son, Father, Emperor by January Blue

(Varis reflecting on his life and especially his relationship with Zenos)

Length: 12k Status: Complete Review: Heyyyyyy do you bitches remember when I said that Varis probably loved Zenos when he was younger but eventually held contempt for the monster he created? You all probably thought I was crazy for reading them like this BUT I'M NOT!!!!! Anyways fatherly angst strikes again (I am in shambles and this fic goes onto the list of fics that I will never read again for the sake of my mental health) LISTEN TO ME AND LISTEN WELL; Varis and Zenos' relationship isn't so black and white. No I'm not defending Varis- but come on the entire Galvus family is fucking crazy man. Anyways, to quote the comment I left on this fic because I do not want to repeat and retype it myself: "Varis, in a lineage of men that are strong, born into the arena that is politics, is WEAK because he is EMOTIONAL. Solus/Emet Selch calls him emotional in the cutscene he was introduced in (unless I'm hallucinating) and that SENT me because I was forced to rethink all of the information we had been shown of Varis until then. I wrote him off as a shallow villain but I did some digging and Varis is surprisingly the most empathetic in the Galvus household and it SHOWS whenever Solus berated him in cutscenes." Varis had emotions, he had morals he had a line that he would not cross. He has been shown to be merciful (when we parlayed with him in the Ghimlyt Dark) and it's known that he at least cared for his late wife, Zenos' mother. Obviously, he would extend that to his son at one point, right? Perhaps when he was still young and unmarked by the world- right???? See, I really like this fic because it frames Varis' absence from Zenos' life as unintentional, but at the same time, it does not absolve him of the fact that he is a terrible father. I don't want to say too much because I would very much like it if YOU, my dearest reader, took as much emotional damage reading this as I did- but I digress. Varis and Zenos' relationship is not as simple as "Varis hates Zenos" there's obviously some shades of gray here. I personally believed that there's no way Varis hated Zenos because Zenos' mother died in childbirth, and clearly, other people think the same. Listen, you don't just hate your own flesh and blood, at least, not from the very beginning. It's a slow process, and I know it in my heart of hearts that Varis regretted what he let happen to Zenos This fic is just so wonderfully written and I was actually kinda bouncing around my room reading this. Once again, major daddy issues, so maybe that's why I like believing that Varis loved Zenos once upon a time. Something, something, father's love their kids until they grow a mind of their own.

And that's my list! In the future as I make my way through fanfics I have marked for later due to spoilers, I might make another one of these because I think people need to read this shit!!!!

If one of your fics is on here please send me an ask so that I might go back and edit this to tag you!

[fawnforgold]

| Angel | 

Pairing: Albedo x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI MY BLOG IS NOT SFW, Girl Dad!Albedo, Very Selfship Coded, Albedo is reader’s husband, Fem!Reader, Reader is Afab, Talk of Birth & Pregnancy, Reader is referred to as a girl and a princess, Talk & Mention of Death and Mortality, 1.3k words.

Summary: Girl Dad!Albedo. That is all.

A/n: This is my piece for Snow’s Girls Dad Collab. Go check it out, here!  I’m gonna be honest this piece is heavy on the selfship and very personal to me, but I made it to where anyone can read it and insert themselves into the reader. Just please be knowledgeable of this as you read, because this piece has a very dear place in my heart for me. 

Tags: @suyacho @tighnarly @neuvillettes @themovingcastlez

The two of you had finally rested your daughter into bed and watched her as she slept soundly in her crib. Albedo and you watched with tired eyes as she slept through everything around her without a care in the world. She was beautiful and everything you’d ever hoped for, but gosh were you exhausted. 

“Who knew something so small could be so much work.” You whispered to your husband. 

He chuckled quietly and pulled you close to him, rubbing your back up and down underneath your shirt as the two of you watched her in silence. You watched for a few more minutes before quietly leaving the room and entering the bedroom that you two shared. You fell asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow, but Albedo stayed up to keep an eye on you and the baby. 

Before the birth of your daughter you worried that things would change, that Albedo would change for the worse, but you were quickly eased of those worries. You worried often that after the baby came that Albedo would distance himself, not take part in taking care of her as much as you would, or that he’d simply fall out of love with you and turn into someone you didn’t recognize, but you were gladly mistaken. Albedo was very involved right from the start and continued to exceed any expectations you held for him. He made sure to always come to every doctor's appointment, even when you insisted it wasn’t necessary. Albedo was there for every milestone, he was there when your water broke, and especially for the birth of your child. When he first held her he had tears in his eyes, something he wasn’t used to experiencing all too often, but they came generously in this moment.

He held her like she was the most precious thing in his entire existence, and to him that’s exactly what she was. She was a combination of everything he loved and held dear in this world. She became something to cherish, to hold, protect, and he never took that for granted, not even for a second. When the both of you brought her home for the first time he made sure you were snug as a bug in bed, while he took care of anything you or the baby needed. You insisted that you could help, wanted to help, but he quickly reassured you that he had it under control and that you needed to rest in bed. It was astounding the lengths he went to assure that both his girls were comfortable and happy, but he didn’t regret it in the least. 

As time went on and the two of you watched as your precious daughter grew older with time, and you noticed the change in the way Albedo acted towards her. It was sweet, really. It was precious how he’d show her some of his alchemy experiments (at a safe distance of course), teaching her all the in’s and out’s of his genius. Sometimes she’d be intrigued, excited by this newfound information, but as she grew older it became harder and harder to surprise his daughter. Thankfully, Albedo found something the both of them had in common.

Although your daughter found little interest in his alchemy, she did however find great joy in Albedo’s artistic abilities. When she was younger he’d color with her, draw little stick figures with her, but as she grew older he started to give her sketchbooks and nice art supplies. It wasn’t until she came to her dad, begging him to teach her how to draw like he did, that he realized just how greatly she admired him. It may not have been alchemy like he had so long hoped for, but he was grateful and joyous regardless. 

There were times where you had to separate the two of them from one of Albedo’s art lessons just to get them to eat a proper meal, but even still the teachings of your husband persisted. You didn’t mind in the least, you quite encouraged it actually, but you worried when it got to the point that it did when they started to neglect their daily needs. They’d begrudgingly agree to eat but soon after they were right back at square one. Sometimes you’d stand and watch as they huddled over a piece of paper. You would stand there with a smile on your face as you listened to Albedo’s ramblings on what to do, what not to do, and how to do it.

All in all, Albedo had proved to be more than the capable and loving father and husband you had hoped for. To say it was a dream come true would be a grand understatement. You weren’t one to believe in such things coming into reality but you were gladly mistaken. As you wrapped your pinkie around his, laying beside him in the same bed you shared since you two wed, you couldn’t help but feel like a princess in some distant fairytale land. A princess who was given the best two gifts anyone could ever dream of having. 

Looking to your side you saw your husband, looking the same as he did the first day you met. And then there was you, hair that was grey and wrinkles which pulled down on your face as you smiled fondly at Albedo. In a way the sight of you two must’ve been sad, and it would’ve been to any logical person. The thought of you fated to love someone who could never grow old with you was something you never put much thought to, but in a way maybe that was for the better, because if you truly took the time to think about it you probably would’ve never stopped crying. 

That was the reality the three of you shared—you, your daughter, and Albedo. You and your daughter would continue to grow while Albedo would be forced to stay young forever. One day three would become two, and then two would become just one, just a singular Albedo. There came a day where the sounds of a baby crying turned into a group of laughter, and then that laughter would one day become heavy whispers, which would turn into a dark silence. A silence that would weigh down on him for the remainder of his life. Unlike you, Albedo thought all too often about the inevitable day where you’d become one with the earth and he would be forced to grin and bear it as Teyvat took you for its own greediness.

When happy moments between the three, or even the two of you occurred, these thoughts would climb into his brain all too easily, but he pushed them down. Forcing them into a small box which he threw into the dark abyss of his mind, hoping to god he’d forget about it until that untimely situation happened. Even though he felt that thinking these thoughts were truly agonizing and unhelpful, he couldn't help but indulge in them every now and again. And as his eyes opened just a little to gain the sight of you fast asleep beside him, holding his hand to your lips, those thoughts seemed to strengthen for a moment before he forced them down. He would not let this dark reality tamper with the positive present he was in. 

Even though he would experience this inevitable reality, he would not let it ruin the good days he had left with you and his daughter. So, with a sigh of relief upon seeing your peaceful form, still full of life and warmth, he scooched closer to you and wrapped his around your waist. Albedo pressed his lips into a kiss on your forehead before following you along into a blissful sleep. 

[kocherry]

Blume-ing Relationship

Cyno x GN!Reader

Cyno is really becoming my favorite character so far in the Windblume Festival so I wrote this ♡ Also this is Gender-Neutral Reader insert :>

Tags: Fluff, First Meeting, Pre-Established Relationship, Mutual Crush on First Meet, Horrible Puns

< 1.5k words >

The Windblume Festival is a season of giving gifts to your loved ones. May it be platonical, familial, or romantic anyone could receive gifts. You always have something to give for platonical and familial gifts. As for romantic... well you don't really hope to receive or give anyone this year.

Despite that you always held that tradition in giving to your Alchemy colleagues that you consider as your friends now. Speaking of them... Sucrose and Albedo are the ones you haven't given their gifts.

Luckily you spot them both but they camping outside the walls of Mondstadt near Cider Lake. They were all in a circle surrounding a campfire with a lot of travelers. It was bad timing anyway, you could see how they were all interacting like they knew each other for a long time.

As much as you wanted to give your presents, the festival won't end today. So you turn your back and as you were about to head to the city, you step on a branch snapping it in half.

"I noticed you were spying on us, who are you?"

The sudden appearance of a tan skin and medium length grey hair gentleman surprised you. His red-orange eyes pierce through your own as if he's looking at you like some sort of predator ready to pounce on his prey. He wore almost nothing but his jackal ears hood. He is on guard to every movement especially to the small boxes on your hands.

"Wait Cyno, that person is our friend." Sucrose panicked since Cyno's whole demeanor changed.

"(Y/N)? What are you doing here? Did you need something?" Albedo asked as he is surprised to have seen you this late in the city.

You didn't face Sucrose and Albedo because you were too busy admiring the features of the man in front of you. He stood a little taller and he is lean. His red orange eyes went from being stern to soft as he realizes his mistake.

"Forgive me I shouldn't have assumed that you were an enemy spying on us." Cyno scratch the back of his hood as he apologizes for his brash actions.

"I-It's okay! Really... I would have done the same and uhm are you from the Akademiya?" You ask because the silver haired man is oddly familiar especially in TCG, many from sumeru used a card of his image. So you wonder if he is the General Mahamatra that they would talk about.

"No. I am Cyno the Adventurer."

Cyno's deadpan tone made you snort, you could tell that he didn't want to be addressed by his official work title.

"Ignore him, he's just on vacation mode. To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit (Y/N)?" A gentlemen dressed in dark reen clothes with fox ears greeted you as his eyes narrowing at his companion in annoyance.

"Oh I came to give this to Albedo and Sucrose, I was about to leave when they seem busy but Cyno suddenly appeared." You held out two boxes for the two alchemist who recited their gratitude towards you.

Tighnari, the fox eared man, elbowed Cyno to at least be courteous and invite you to eat.

"Again, I apologize for..." Cyno handed you out a small bowl of what they were eating. "...Soup-rising you like that."

A collective groan could be heard from that pun. Although it made you laugh, which surprises Cyno himself and his companions.

"I don't mind because you're a DandeCyno."

You gave him a thumbs up replying him with a pun that you also thought about. Then Cyno seems to be surprised at the joke you just made. Maybe he didn't get it... "You know like a Dandelion plus Cyno's name. Him suddenly appearing like a wind in front of me!" You explained to make sure everyone got the idea of your pun.

Cyno places a hand over his mouth and lets out a hearty chuckle. There is a small dark blush on his cheeks as he turns to you with a smile. "I'm quite glad to have met someone who shares my sense of humor." He extends his hand and you happily shake it.

"To think someone actually laughed at my flower puns, I think our friendship will definitely blume during the festival." He lets out another pun in his deadpan tone which made it funnier to hear.

"I cecilia hope it would." You reply with a pun as well while winking at him.

"Oh no there's two of them..." Tighnari groans as he puts a hand on his temple.

The others well... they just look like they want to be swallowed by the ground. Only Albedo seems amused and crossed his arms raising an eyebrow towards the two of you.

"Are you going home after giving us these?" Albedo asks while holding out his gift. "Perhaps Cyno could accompany you back since it is quite dangerous to go out at night even if it's festive season." In all honesty the Chief Alchemist is amused by all of these and he wants to see where this would go.

Cyno just nodded at Albedo's suggestion, not even hesitating to oppose. Mainly because he seems to have a feeling that you two would get along. "I don't mind escorting you home (Y/N), besides I think I owe you this much for scaring you earlier." His hood covered the top half of his face as he remembers how intensely intimidating he is earlier.

You met the General Mahamatra and not the Adventurer Cyno. So he does want you to see him in a different way.

"Sure! Plus I want to get to know you more Cyno, you seem really fun to be around." In all honesty, you could handle yourself especially with a vision hanging on your belt.

But you don't mind walking in the night with a handsome fella who shares your love for humor.

Tighnari folded his arms and lets out an amused sigh, "I can't believe you set them up Albedo now we both have to endure their bad puns."

Albedo lets out a soft chuckle, "I think they're pretty funny." Most of them disagreed.

So back to the two of you who were walking towards Springvale.

Cyno notices a familiar box in your bagpack. His eyes brighten up at this and his lips quirk up a smile. "Do you play TCG?" He asks while pointing at your card deck that was seen through a small opening of your bag.

"I definitely do! My colleagues often play it during our free time. Do you want to play sometime?" You ask excitedly but then got embarassed since you don't want to ruin his plans especially when he's from Sumeru. "If you're... up to it I don't really want to intrude your vacation in Mondstadt."

"Aside from accompanying my friends here, the other reason is to commission the talented Calx to design my cardback." Cyno does share the excitement of playing TCG with you. "Having to play TCG with a newly found friend is surely enjoyable this season."

You sigh in relief upon hearing that, it looks like the feeling is mutual. "I can hardly wait for our duel Adventurer Cyno." You elbow him at the side gently then notice that you were already in Springvale. "Oh this is my house, thanks for the walk back."

"You're welcome, as much as I wanted to make a pun... I'll just give this."

In his hand there is an unfamiliar flower, not native from Mondstadt. You saw in books once, a Kalpata Lotus, being placed onto your head. Cyno smiles at you softly and takes a step back, "I figured you might like this particular flower back from my home." He definitely will have to say sorry to Tighnari later for stealing this flower.

When he puts the flower in your hair, his face is incredibly close to yours. You remain quite on the outside while your inner voice is already losing its shit. Despite being flustered, you have to give Cyno a gift back.

After all, equivalent of exchange is a rule in alchemy.

"Wait I think it's unfair that I didn't give you anything." You grabbed his hand before he could take a step back.

"You don't really have to—"

You take a step forward tiptoeing to place a soft kiss on his cheek. "See you tomorrow Cyno." You smile brightly and the blush on your cheeks spread throughout your face.

Cyno stare at you dumbfoundedly as you shut the door close. He place a hand on the spot where you kissed him. The beating of his heart began to thump louder as the smile you gave him is imbued into his mind.

A smile crept up his lips as he turns around wondering how to not make a fool of himself tomorrow.

On the other side of the closed door, you were sitting on the floor placing a hand over your chest. You couldn't believe you already kissed Cyno on the cheek when you just met him. Then again... he seems to he smiling when you did that.

The Windblume Festival is a season of giving gifts to your loved ones. May it be platonical, familial, or romantic anyone could receive gifts. You always have something to give for platonical and familial gifts. As for romantic... you hope Cyno would be the one to happily accept it someday.

[l0ve-bug-m1les]

Spider-Band With a S/o Who Hyperfixates on Things Hard

Miles Morales, Hobie Brown, Gwen Stacy, and Pavitr Prabhakar (separate) x Gn!Reader

Warnings: None! (Except my attempt at British talking—)

Summary: Really what the title says—

A/n: This is actually an idea i had when i first fell into the spider verse fandom but didn’t have anyone to talk to about it. Glad ya’ll picked this one! Enjoy!! Also lmk if any of ya’ll wanna be on a tag list!! I know i don’t write all that much but still—

Miles Morales 🌻🎧🌻

Bby is here for it

Always listening to what you have to say and never complaining

I have a feeling he’d be just as excited as you even if he’s got no clue what you’re talking about

He’d try to get into your interests with you no matter how outlandish they may seem

(I mean he’s basically a spider what’s so weird about fnaf lore—)

Definitely draws you things based off of the subject

“You said they were your favorite, right?”

Is always sending you memes and funny videos about your interest

Asks you for updates on your interest if it’s a series

Holds you when something bad happens and you’re sad

“Shh, shh…Hey, at least they existed, right?—Oh, no that made it worse—“

Going back to rambles, he’s always listening but maybe not always looking at you

But trust me

That boy could recite what you say perfectly

He just likes to listen while he works or draws

Has definitely made a mural of you and him in the world together (used it as a date spot. It’s true, he told me)

Overall

20/10 boyfriend

(I mean they all are but like—)

Hobie Brown 🎸⚡️🎸

Will spend hours learning songs related to your interest

But then he’s like

“What? Oh, i been knowin’ this song, luv. What’re ya on about?”

Say for instance, you dive deep into an artist or band

Obviously, Hobie’s gonna ask you about them

But would never ask you for your favorite songs because he’s “Too busy writing his own”

So he just pays really close attention to the songs you talk the most about

(As i previously stated, he learns them all and plays it off)

When you figure it out he’s just like:

“Took ya long enough, luv”

He also listens to your rants about whatever it is (much like Miles and everyone else here but shhh)

But here’s why he stands out

This man can keep up

He can and will remember all about it, and basically know about much as you do

Steals things from stores that are from the series or whatever it is

“Hobie, how’d you get this?” “It was on display and i knew you’d love it.” “Wow! I thought you didn’t buy things from brands..” “…” “You stole it…”

You’re too busy loving whatever it is to stay mad

(But we all knew you weren’t mad)

If you think your interest is cringey then you’re WRONG

“But it’s for kids—“ “And? So what?” “Well…uhm….hm.” “Yeah. Thought so. Now keep goin’, I’m invested.”

(But also in general, bby. Love what you love and come to me if anyone says it “weird” or “cringey”. I’ll beat them up bestie<33)

All in all, a king<33

Gwen Stacy 🩰🥁🩰

I’m gonna be honest

She is lost

Even if you go over things twenty times she still won’t get it

And that’s okay!

She takes notes and tries to keep up

Definitely proud of herself when she gets a detail right

“And then—“ “Wait, wait. Let me guess…He…he burned the pizzeria down, right” “Uhm—yeah, actually!” “*insert proud face*”

(Woah look at the trans flag colors^^^)

Definitely binge watches or reads your interest and learns as much as she can

She keeps a notebook full of her notes that she refers back to whenever you two are on call

She played it off as writing down some notes for school

But one day, she asked you to grab her suit from inside her drum set, and you found the notebook

It caught your eye because it had the name of your interest on it and you were like:

“Hey, Gwen? What’s this?” You showed her the notebook

I wish you could see my vision

When i tell you Gwen stood there for a good minute

I mean she stood there for several

Anywho

She just admitted to it and was all red and fidgety

Since this is her world, she was cast in mostly pink and red hues and the space around her fluttered yellow

You end up going through it with her, and talk about your favorite bits

Overall? She deserves several gold stars and cookies

Pavitr Prabhakar 🍵☀️🍵

Bby is here for it

Whenever you get excited he’s excited

When you’re on the verge of tears he’s already crying

He is your favorite character’s number one supporter

He’s always going on and on with you about your interests

Because unlike the others, he manages to actually get into whatever it is you’re talking about and not just keep up

It’s honestly a skill of his

I feel like Pav also has special interests that he dives deep into

Like

Deep deep

Same as you so you two get along well :D

He’s always looking for the newest content and sending it to you always

“Hey! They said the next episode would be released next Tuesday!! :DDD” “There’s a new theory for the last volume!”

It’d be cute if that’s how you met and became friends

You spend sleepovers diving into your shared and separate interests with eachother

You know what’d be funny?

If he also info dumps onto the villains he fights

Like

Hear me out

Pav tying up a villain who tried to rob a place and just going

“Yeah, so me and my partner have a theory for why—“

And the villain is just like

Stfu??????

But they’d never say that because it’s Spider-Man

All in all, your number one hype man and best friend :]

———————————-

YA’LL I DID IT :DD

[eddiemunson-reader-shame]

A Freak and a Basket Case— The “Seven Inches of Satanic Panic” Edition

An Eddie Munson x OC Fanfic

The good lord (me) intended this to be an OC x Eddie fanfic, and by god, that’s what y’all are getting from here on. The original reader insert series will be discontinued for now, unless I really get the urge to go back and revisit it.

For now, just enjoy what I originally wanted. Which was over 3,000 words of self indulgent OC fanfic to help me get past these dark times. Life is too short to worry about being cringy.

Warnings: period typical racism, swearing, mentions of suicide, mentions of abuse (more tags to be added as the story progresses).

Divider by: @strangergraphics-archive

Pairings: Eddie Munson x OC

Word Count: 4,088 words

Chapter One - Don’t Talk to Strangers

“I'm danger, I'm the stranger.

And I, I'm darkness, I'm anger, I'm pain…”

Hawkins, Indiana was going to be hell on earth. Of that, Alejandra Perea was certain.

She didn’t want to move here in the first place. This whole situation was horseshit. Spur of the moment pendejadas from the family matriarch in command of a newly formed triad where there had once been a quartet. Leaving everything behind, even if it meant new and exciting things on the horizon, it wasn’t necessary. The family did not need a fresh start over in a new state.

No, what everyone needed to do was to start looking harder. She could still remember the advice given to her nearly a year ago, as it was the only solid and reliable advice she had received at the time. Expand the search area, but make sure at least one person stays at the home base. Keep the name in the media as much as possible, even if it meant taking out another loan to buy airtime on the radio stations locally. Question everything. Look for abnormalities, and above all: report, report, report!

Doing something was better than doing nothing, and if Alejandra’s family was any kind of concerned, they would be more aware of the rampant corruption and blatant conspiracy afoot throughout this whole situation. She could see the truth laid out in front of her, especially when there was a way to physically connect the dots. Soon she’d need another Big Chief Tablet to jot down her notes, and since the one sad little general store in town didn’t even have what she needed, the lack of consistency and the unfamiliar stationery was already making her panic.

So instead of playing pretend— telling herself that she would bide her time until she could find a way back home— Alejandra decided she was going to do what she did best when she wasn’t listened to: shut out the entire world, and focus her attention inward as her plan formulated.

I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer…

“Sit up right, huevona! You’re going to mark my seats.”

Reluctantly, Alejandra slid her feet off the tan leather bucket seat, hoping that the battered treads of her Chucks left marks. Instead of facing her mother’s lecture, Alejandra spent the morning commute looking out the window with a scowl. She wanted to be anywhere but here. This podunk midwestern vibe was horrible. Unfamiliar. A hostile environment of mostly blue collar workers that could sniff out even the most light skinned Latina in a crowded room. Like a petulant child, she kept her thick framed glasses smudged with the oil from her cheeks. Just so she wouldn’t have to actually see Hawkins.

Her mother – Carla Perea– obviously noticed the scowl, and she sighed deeply before trying to speak again.

“I know you’re not happy, but this is a new start for us. Try to make the best of it, huh?”

Alejandra kicked at her blue Jansport backpack.

“And why couldn’t we just have moved somewhere else in New Mexico?! Chingao, you didn’t even think about it, you just put your finger on the map and ya!”

“Watch your mouth, Alejandra.” mom snapped, “And stop with that mocho talk! You know it wasn’t just putting a finger and ya. We needed a fresh start, and Hawkins was the best choice we could make. It wasn’t as impulsive as you make it out to be, it’s what’s best for all three of us.”

“And what the hell about dad?!” Alejandra demanded. “Huh?! How the shit are you honoring your marriage vows by just abandoning him like that?! Better or for worse my fucking asshole!”

Her mother's eyes narrowed as she drove. Obviously her daughter’s backtalk had hit a raw nerve. One of Alejandra’s new found talents was shit talking, the same venomous spitting that only cobras in certain parts of Africa and Asia had mastered. It had only been a year and some change since she’d honed the skill, but this kind of irate wit was too well honed for it to be new.

This talent had been latent. As if waiting for the perfect opportunity…

“What’s done is done.” Carla hissed, knuckles going from tawny brown to white grip, tightening her hold on the steering wheel.

“It’s been over a year, it’s time to accept he’s not coming back. Basta!”

“Bullshit…” Alejandra hissed.

And she would have kept going, if not for Carla deciding that morning to wear her leather belt around the waistline of her denim dress. And not just any belt. Oh no… It was the thick one with the sterling silver Gary Reeves buckle.

The thing about Gary Reeves: his silver work conchos with the fine needlepoint lines hurt like a motherfucker. Especially if there weren't any soft turquoise chunks on the front to cushion your ass from a chingazo. Alejandra wasn’t wearing the right kind of clothes for a fight, anyway. Months of trial and error taught her that her Wrangler culottes – along with a paperback copy of Heretics of Dune tucked in the back pocket– were the only acceptable armor if she wanted to talk shit back to her mother.

So instead of pushing her luck, Alejandra quietly resigned herself to her repetition. Unwilling and unmotivated to start a battle, when her mother was armed and willing to pull off into a Hawkins public parking lot to humiliate them both.

I must not fear.

Fear is the mind-killer.

The Dodge Aspen continued down the unfamiliar streets at a snail’s crawl. Cars boxed them into the single lane going down Cherry Street towards the cluster of schools. Even though the realtor had boasted about the house’s proximity to the finest education in Roane County, the motorists of Hawkins, Indiana managed to turn a ten-minute drive into almost forty-five minutes. Luckily, Carla had anticipated this.

By five thirty that morning, mom was already blasting a mixtape of los classicos, banging on Alejandra’s bedroom door and setting off the barking of the family’s two dogs. Tiffany had almost tripped Alejandra in the bathroom, both dog and girl yelping as Alejandra stumbled and nearly smacked her head on the counter. Scruffy had refused to go outside into the dog run, so everyone stopped what they were doing and aided in chasing him out the back door into the yard with Tiffany at his heels.

And then that darned cat…

Unruly and orange Ripley had puked all over Jaime’s work pants, while he screamed at Alejandra to help him find another pair in his mess of a room. Useless from years of mi hito syndrome, he complained when his sister refused vehemently to take time from blow drying her curls to iron his creases. They’d gotten into a screaming match, until Carla finally conceded to do it for her son to “keep the peace”.

It had been a shitshow of a morning, an omen of things to come.

Carla blasted the horn at a green Gaucho with a white stripe that nearly sideswiped her, the dented vehicle trying to cut in front of their sedan into the lane and nearly taking out a couple of other cars with it.

“Pinches babosos!” Carla growled under her breath.

Alejandra was too pissed off to laugh.

The two women stayed in silence for some time, until at last Alejandra spoke up.

“You couldn’t have picked somewhere with raza at least? Like California?” she muttered, watching the faces of a group of younger teens crossing on bikes at the light.

“I’m light skinned, and I bet I’m the darkest one at school… A la chingada mujer.”

“What does it matter if there’s no raza here?!” Carla demanded, pounding her fist on the tan leather of the middle console, “Get over it. There’s no way we could have managed in California. I’m not going to kill myself working three jobs with your tios in Lynwood!”

“Enserio, mom?! You waited until right at the start of senior year, you didn’t want to wait?” Alejandra whined.

“Wait for what? Wait for you to fail another year in Pojoaque?!” Carla hissed, clearly fed up with her daughter’s bullshit, “I’m not waiting on you to pull your head out from your ass. So shut your mouth, and quit complaining or I will pull this car over. I swear to God.”

Alejandra shut her mouth. She tucked herself into the side of the passenger door with arms crossed, laying her head on the cool glass of the window and curtaining her teary brown eyes with her dark hair.

What could she say back to that?

Her mother was right. A reminder that she was a failure wasn’t necessary. The reminders of lost scholarships and a tanked GPA would follow her the rest of her life. And sometimes, if Alejandra pressed hard enough on the backs of her thighs, she could still feel the sting from the welts she’d gotten for failing senior year back at Pojoaque High School.

This change was stupid. A lot had changed in the past year. Too many things.

I must not fear.

Fear is the mind-killer.

The reasonably happy, vibrant teenage girl that her mother knew was gone. Instead she was replaced by a bitter, angry young adult at eighteen years of age that had her innocence ripped away too young. Alejandra was now compulsive in her actions. Self-soothing in the oddest ways as old, pre-established habits became worse or new symptoms developed.

Pacing up and down the hallway listening to music on full blast was not anything new, chewing on the cuffs of her clothes or on the floss of her friendship bracelets was. As was the rebellion of dyeing all of her clothes some shade of black or gray. Carla had lost her mind when she saw all of the blouses, skirts, and Gunne Sax dresses had been dyed one weekend. It had taken hours to get the stains out of the washer and out of the bathtub at the old apartment back in New Mexico. Chalk that up to another lesson from the Gary Reeves belt.

And then she started failing all of her classes…

Much like any child, Alejandra had always been a bit of a space case. Living half in her imagination and reading weird books, or bothering her parents with second hand anecdotes of aliens and weird monsters. Like any other student, she wanted to spend her afternoons at play rather than at the family dinner table doing homework. Yet that had all been innocent fun. Science fiction books and fairy movies did not a troubled teen make, but lately that vivid imagination was shrouded in grimdark. She read gory novels of true crime and abductions, of both the supernatural and natural genre, rather than bothering with anything like cracking open a chemistry book or meeting her tutor at the library for help with remedial math.

Obsessive thoughts, spiteful biting comments, obsessions with dark media, lashing out and isolating away from everyone… This was not normal. This was not Alejandra Perea’s normal. To everyone else, it wasn’t like her not to care about things.

But she did care. Just not about the things everyone else thought was important.

She currently cared only about two things: the death of Frank Herbert, and Hector Filemón Perea.

I must not fear.

Fear is the mind-killer.

Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration…

“Mija, I know this isn’t ideal. But you’re strong. You’re going to do fine. Just please… Please try to make the best of this situation. Do it for me, huh?”

The scenery of green trees scattered among the brick-and-mortar buildings of Hawkins held no interest for Alejandra as she ignored her mother. Normally, she would have been captivated by all the greenery. Save for a few day trips to the Jemez Mountains, Alejandra had spent the majority of her life staring at the same desert scrub brush, sand wastes, clay mountains, and adobe houses. Along the road, there were trees and quaint little homes painted daisy yellow, gray white, or the occasional brick and mortar Georgian style home if the occupants were wealthy.

Not one person had the familiar mud brick walls or coyote fencing made of latillas and bailing wire.

Hawkins had boasted four seasons, farmlands with adorable animals, and that unique charm only available in a majority blue collar midwestern town. New Mexico had maybe three seasons and pissed off raza, but she would have given up four seasons and Midwestern charm for the sand and red clay mountains any day. New Mexico was closer to what was important.

New Mexico was closer to dad…

It only got worse as the car approached the high school. Carla pulled into the drop lane; the car still idle as she stared her daughter down with a hard gaze.

Absolutely no move was made to exit the vehicle despite the impatience of the cars behind them. Alejandra stared at the collective student body of Hawkins High with disdain, downright disgust even. As if she would rather swallow glass than get out of the Dodge. She began chewing on the sleeve of her large jacket, already beads of sweat were forming on her forehead from the balmy morning with high humidity.

“Stop chewing on it, you mensa, you’re going to ruin the sleeve!” Carla barked, swatting her daughter’s hand.

Alejandra moved the cuff away from her mouth but said nothing. Instead, she focused on fishing in the pocket of her oversized jacket for her one escape that didn’t have wheels. She produced a battered Walkman with a scratch and sniff sticker on the back. After opening the tape deck, she rooted through the various jewel cases of cassettes in her Igloo Playmate, yanking out a well loved tape from the depths and popping it in.

She pressed play. The volume was turned up so high that her mother scowled when she heard what was blasting from the orange foam speakers of the headphones.

“Come on mija, you couldn’t pick something happier for your first day?”

“Nope.” Alejandra growled, pushing the Walkman into her jacket pocket, “I’m not picking shit else. I’m going to play this fucking tape so loud, that everyone is going to stay far the fuck away from me. Fuck these people, and fuck you too.”

Despite her mother’s sputtering protests and grabbing hands she unbuckled herself, threw open the car door, slung the backpack over her shoulder, and slammed the car door on the way out as she ran towards the double doors.

Not even a whole minute had passed, and already Alejandra was making enemies out of the preppy crowd of Hawkins High. Stomping her way through throngs of students to the front office, she bumped the shoulders of anyone who got in her way, nearly sending some lanky string bean of a freshman flying into his little group of friends.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going, frigid bitch!”

She barely heard him over the music, but she did catch the insult.

Who cares? Kick rocks. Kiss my ass. Fuck yourself with a bent tire iron, you little fucking twerp.

I will face my fear… I will permit it to pass over me and through me…

She hoped the coordination of the day would repel everyone too, not just her shitty attitude. Unlike everyone else who had set up their first day back ensembles with care the night before, Alejandra threw whatever she had on hand on. That morning she came to school in a black cardigan layered over top a gray linen dress, black tights layered with dirty socks, beat up Chuck Taylors that had been everywhere from White Sands to TRC, and her dark brown curls straightened with her trusty Gillette Supermax, sprayed in place with a liberal amount of Aquanet. The piece de resistance was the jacket. Even though it was the end of August, she wore a large Carhartt jacket covered in kitschy buttons and patches. Even in the hottest months of the year, that damn thing never came off.

“What are you wearing that jacket for?” asked the school admin assistant, in lieu of a good morning.

Alejandra shrugged noncommittally as she removed her headphones. She stood awkwardly in the front office, and was about to say some smart ass remark when the admin’s hard stare stopped her sharp tongue short.

“... you’re going to boil alive before lunch…” muttered the admin, fanning her neck with a manilla folder, “Heavens to Betsy, I’m sweating just looking at you!”

“... I’m a new student. May I have my school schedule, please…?” Alejandra grunted.

“Ah.” nodded the admin, pulling open one of the drawers on her filing cabinet, “Name?”

“Alejandra Perea…”

“There’s no one here by that name. I only see an Alexandra Pera here.”

Alejandra winced.

Are you fucking kidding me, bitch? Where on my fucking birth certificate did it ever say fucking “Alexandra”?! And how in the hell is “Perea” too difficult for you to say?!

“Yeah… That’s me.” she admitted, then couldn’t help herself, “Alexandra Perea.”

The admin stared down from her imposing cherry wood desk, eyes laser focused at Alejandra from over the top of her large bifocals. Evidently, she did not appreciate being corrected.

“Young lady…” snapped the admin, tapping her eggplant colored nails against a file folder, “We do not tolerate troublemakers at this school. I suggest you quit playing your little games, and say your name correctly when asked. Is that clear?”

Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you-...

“Yes ma’am, thank you ma’am…” Alejandra muttered, looking at her shoes as she took the class schedule and locker assignment from the admin.

The headphones went back on as soon as the admin was done talking. That poor Walkman was blasting so loud, everyone else in the hallway was forced to listen in on James Hetfield’s vocals. That fucking bitch of an admin pissed Alejandra off so much, she could not help but lunge at and startle a few innocent girls in pastel color culottes as they passed by. It was her one line of defense; to deter the general populace of Hawkins High, she had decided to be a goddamned menace to anyone who could not give her a detention.

It was unfortunate really, because no matter how hard Alejandra tried to deter everyone away, it took her ten minutes to realize that Hawkins High– home of the Tigers– had fangs that could snap even the most ironclad of wills in half.

She was drastically underprepared for the high schooler’s reception to her take no shit attitude. One big dude in a letterman that she shoulder checked did not hesitate. He checked her right back, right into the tan lockers lining the halls. The resounding crash of her body colliding with metal was loud and embarrassing, causing a few passing members of the pep squad to point and laugh. As they passed they said hateful, evil, ignorant shit, screaming it into Alejandra’s ear while yanking her headphones off. They wanted her to hear everything. One even yelled out a slur.

All the hate caught her off guard, and she almost checked someone else by accident.

“Watch where you’re going, fucking gap tooth bitch!”

A foot flashed out from some wastoid and sent Alejandra toppling. She would have hit the floor and broken her glasses, had not her oversized jacket caught on the door handle to the girl’s bathroom. She hung there for a few seconds, and felt everyone’s eyes on her. Ugly peals of laughter followed. Her face turned crimson.

I will permit my fear… no… I will allow… No! I… I will permit my fear to pass over me and… and through me…?

It was fucking humiliating. She wanted everyone to go away and leave her alone. Yet in her hubris and rebellion, the attempts at being a badass only ended up attracting every kind of attention she did not want.

Pulling herself off the handle, she immediately threw open the door and hid in the girl’s bathroom. Pushing past a girl in a blue gingham sundress and a strawberry blonde side ponytail, she ran for the nearest empty stall to lock herself in. The tears could not wait until she was sure the bathroom was empty. Loud and uncontrolled sobs began to emit from her throat, the noises so awkward she did not hear the whispers of the other girls as they exited the facilities.

Fuck this day. Fuck this town. Her arm was hurting from where she hit the lockers, her pride was wounded, and Alejandra wanted out. If she could just run away now and hitchhike with the first car she saw, she would do it.

I must not fear.

Fear is the mind-killer.

This was not how the second senior year was supposed to go. Senior year was supposed to be the last hoorah. A happy time to start preparing for reality. For college plans. Not a time to be stuck in a small Midwestern town that felt like a foreign country. And certainly not a time to be dealing with racist, shit attitudes.

Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration…

Dainty footsteps approached the stall as Alejandra bawled like a baby, a soft knock on the door making her freeze.

“Go away!” she cried, voice small and hoarse from the sobbing.

I will face my fear…

“… Hey it’s… It’s going to be okay…”

A soft, delicate voice answered. Not one familiar tone in that voice, the only hint to the identity of the one speaking was a pair of powder blue pumps at the opening of the bottom of the stall. Alejandra did not know the girl, nor did she want to.

“Go away…” she begged, face burning with embarrassment as she groveled like a prisoner for her freedom.

I will permit it to pass over me and through me…

“Please… Please just go away and leave me alone!”

And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see that you play stupid games, you win stupid prizes, cabrona… Quien te tiene?

The blue pumps hesitated, but eventually walked away. Leaving Alejandra to her sobbing.

She sat there on the toilet crying until the late bell rang, and everyone had cleared out of the bathroom to their first period class. With her glasses all smudged up from tears and snot, she took a moment to wipe them off with the hem of her dress, and eventually exited the stall with her tail between her legs.

Stopping at the sink, she began cleaning up. Alejandra took off her glasses and began washing her face with cold water. Blotting with a paper towel, she took a deep, cleansing breath and exhaled, before making up her mind.

She would not be going to class today, or ever again for that matter.

Every part of her mind was made up. Now it would only be a matter of time to find an out.

The gears were turning as she put her headphones on, fast forwarding the cassette to her favorite song before sliding the orange headphones over her ears. Maybe she could walk home, steal Jaime’s ranfla to make her escape. No, probably she should walk down the road to the elementary school and steal the Aspen. Mom’s sedan was inconspicuous, and it would blend into the sea of cars on the freeway better than Jaime’s well loved blue 1972 Chevy Monte Carlo.

Besides, the Chevy was out of the question until Jaime got back from work at the Hawkins Water Utility, and she was not going to wait that long for him to come home. The elementary school was a closer walk, and as she walked out of the girls bathroom without checking if the coast was clear, she began to formulate how she was going to break into and hotwire her mom’s car (she knew how to do neither of these things, but she thought a good old college try couldn’t hurt).

As Alejandra power walked to the front entrance double doors, she heard nothing. Saw only the sweet promise of freedom. Walking quickly, unaware of the noise she was making, and drastically underprepared for the biggest shock of her life.

She felt herself being snagged by the backpack straps, her heart dropping into her ass as she was pulled to a chest.

The headphones were yanked from her ears, and a low voice with hot breath began muttering in her ear.

“You’ve got bitchin’ taste in music there, princess.”

Alejandra jumped ten feet, and screamed.

“FUCK ME FREDDY!”

“ Without change something sleeps inside us, and seldom awakens. The sleeper must awaken. ” - Frank Herbert