#we don't have to be mutuals or to have ever spoken before or anything

[paarthunaxx]

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 CALL MY NAME, I’M YOURS TO TAME — 18+

larissa weems x fem!reader

word count: 4.9k

status: completed

summary: You and Larissa Weems have been best friends since your years spent together at Nevermore. You have been meeting for tea every week since your graduation. But when the pharmacy in Jericho runs out of heat suppressants, you have to miss your afternoon tea with her.

And Larissa, being the dutiful best friend, pays you a visit instead.

tags: smvt, fluff, werewolf reader, in heat, kn0tting, decades of mutual pining, established friendship, soft larissa weems, larissa weems with a d1ck, shapeshifting, p in v, nickname mommy, nickname puppy

read here on ao3!

“Here is your tea, dear.”

“Thanks, Riss,” You take the teacup from Larissa’s pale hands and rub the pad of your thumb over the painted golden rim of the cup before setting it down on a pretty white saucer. “So, anything else to catch me up on this week?”

Larissa takes a long sip from her own florally adorned teacup and sinks into the armchair across from you. “Do you remember Morticia Frump?” She asks with the smallest hint of bitterness on her tongue. It doesn't come as a surprise to you. Larissa is a sweet woman, but you don't think you've ever heard her speak about Morticia without that resentment in her voice.

“Yes. Your roommate from when we attended Nevermore?” You nod and settle back into your own chair, folding one leg over the other. You notice Larissa’s gaze lingering on them for a flash of a moment, but don’t bother bringing it up. “You’ve spoken to her recently?”

Larissa gives a grim incline of her head and huffs a soft sigh through her nose. “Indeed. She called last night to request that I meet her child and consider enrolling her in the school.”

“And will you?” You ask curiously, lifting your teacup and taking a slow sip. There is just the right amount of sugar and milk mixed in. Larissa always makes the perfect cup of tea.

“I have a duty to look after the children of outcasts. I would not cast a young girl out just because I am not on the best of terms with her mother,” Larissa whispers. “I just wish I did not have to meet Morticia in order to enrol her daughter. I’m afraid it will be too painful to see her again.”

You send a sympathetic smile in her direction and shift forward in your seat. Leaning across the coffee table, you reach out to squeeze her knee. Her breath hitches at the touch as she watches you like a hawk. “It’ll be okay, Riss. Everything happened so long ago. And if she annoys you… Just think about all the different ways you’d like to fight her, then tell me all about it next week.”

Larissa giggles at that and places her large hand over your smaller one which rests on her knee, giving it a gentle pat. The touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, which you mentally blame on static. “You are right. There’s no point in being so absorbed in the past.”

“I usually am right,” You tease with a soft laugh. “Be the bigger person.”

Larissa raises a neatly plucked eyebrow at that. An amused smirk dances across her painted lips and she quips, “Pun intended?”

You snort around another sip of tea, almost spitting the stuff everywhere. You manage to choke it down and the two of you burst into a fit of giggles. After your laughter trails off, you spend another half an hour catching each other up on everything that has happened in the past week. Just like you have been doing every week for… well, years.

Larissa has been your best friend since you both attended Nevermore. Many times you have looked at her and wondered if there could be something more between you, but you don’t even know if she would want that. If she even likes women. And you’re terrified to risk your friendship by asking her out… No matter how much you adore her.

When the teacups have been drained and the grandfather clock pushed up against the wall starts to chime the hour, you sigh and lean back in your chair. “Time for me to get going.”

Larissa tsks softly, a playful pout poking out her lower lip. “Shame. Time always flies by so quickly with you.”

“I know,” You agree with a short nod. “Maybe we should start doing sleepovers instead of tea.”

“Maybe,” She whispers. A soft pink blush dusts across her pale cheeks and she averts her gaze, clearing her throat. She nudges her empty cup of tea out of the way and rises from her chair, towering over you. “Come on. I’ll walk you out.”

Oh, how you'd love to climb her like a tree.

You follow her out of her dimly lit office and walk by her side as she leads you through the school to the large front entrance. You fit in some more idle chatter along the way through the familiar hallways, before coming to a stop on the stone steps outside.

“Until next week, dear,” Larissa leans down to wrap her arms around you, giving you a tight hug.

“See you then, Riss,” You stretch up on your tiptoes to hug her back, taking a moment to enjoy the scent of her sweet perfume lingering in your nose.

“I’ll be counting the minutes,” She whispers in your ear. There is such conviction in her soft voice that it feels as though she truly means those words.

She gives your waist a gentle squeeze and you reluctantly pull away from her. You can feel your heart hammering in your chest as your brain immediately cries out in protest at the absence of her warmth. With one final goodbye, you turn away from her and make your way down the steps, bracing yourself for the walk home in the bitter afternoon air.

ᥫ᭡

You hum a soft tune to yourself as you bustle around your apartment, struggling with the bundle in your arms. You snatch up every pillow and blanket you can find, tossing them onto the bed to be arranged into a nest later. Each of them have been picked out specifically for the purpose of nesting, every one as warm and comfortable as possible. The pile on the bed is almost bigger than you, and you stand and stare at the mess of blankets with a proud smile on your face. Although you have your suppressants, it still feels comforting to bury into your nest during your heat, even if it is just to nap or read a book. Like being wrapped up in a warm hug from La—

You startle at the sudden shrill ringing of your phone from where it rests on your nightstand. You place a hand over your thundering heart and puff out a breath to calm yourself. In a few long strides, you cross the room and snatch the phone up to answer it. “Hello?”

“Hello! This is the Jericho pharmacy calling,” The familiar voice of Mrs Jones, the pharmacist, comes from the other end of the phone. “We are so terribly sorry for the inconvenience, but we will not be able to refill your prescription for suppressants at the moment. Our supplier has had a stock issue, and we have to wait for more to come from a bigger supplier in the city.”

“What?” You swallow hard, your eyes widening. Panic splits through you like branching lightning, your hand curling into a fist around the phone so hard you almost shatter it. “How long will that take?”

“Around a week and a half,” The pharmacist informs you.

“A week and a half? But… My heat starts tomorrow, and I don’t have any suppressants,” You whisper. “I haven’t gone through a heat in years. You don’t even have enough to get me through the week?”

“I’m afraid not. I’m so sorry. We can fill your next prescription free of charge as an apology for the delay. And if you need scent blockers, we can have them dropped outside your door.”

“Alright… Well, thank you for telling me. See you in a week and a half,” You hang up and toss your phone on the bed. Scrubbing your hands irately down your face, you mutter one word.

“Shit.”

ᥫ᭡

Sleep doesn’t come easily to you that night. Even wrapped up in the bundles of pillows and blankets that have been arranged for your nest, you can’t stop tossing and turning. Anxiety floods through your veins, making your body feel cold and your chest tight. It’s been so long since you allowed your body to go through a heat. There will be years of pent up energy in control of your body, and it's terrifying. You turned to the internet, searching through outcast forums to find out whether it will be more intense when it comes. Every werewolf in the world seems to be in agreement.

The longer it’s been, the worse your next heat will be.

By the time morning comes, you haven’t slept a wink. You sigh and force yourself out of your bed, shuffling to the kitchen to shove a cup of coffee down your throat. As you stir the sugar cubes into your favourite mug, your gaze happens to drift towards the calendar pinned up on your wall. On the square for that day, there is a large red circle with a little teacup scribbled in the middle.

“Shit,” You hiss for what feels like the millionth time in the last twelve hours. You stand there and stare at the doodle of the teacup, pondering whether you should still try to attend or call Larissa up and tell her you can’t make it to tea that day.

You know if you venture out of the house and your heat comes on, any alpha nearby will be able to smell you from a mile away. There may not be that many in Jericho, but even one would pose such a great danger to you… Never mind the werewolf students at Nevermore.

It would also be incredibly embarrassing to go into heat right in front of your best friend, and have her drive you home as you gush all over the seats of her car and whine in need. You shudder at the thought of what Larissa might think of you after something like that.

Before you can even make a proper decision on what to do, an odd feeling shoots through you. You feel your knees going weak, a sticky liquid clinging to your thighs and soaking your shorts. Another curse slips out as you clutch onto the edge of the counter, gasping at the coiling sensation twisting through your lower stomach. Your whole body shakes and you grab onto the counter for dear life.

Looks like you definitely won’t be seeing Larissa today.

You abandon your coffee, letting it go cold on the counter as you drag yourself back into your bedroom. It’s a difficult trip. Your legs threaten to give out beneath you the whole way there, your mind screaming at you to lay down with them spread and just hope an alpha happens to come along. Your brain has never felt so fuzzy before. You’ve never felt so stupid.

The moment you make it back to your room, you throw yourself into the nest. Your clothes are off in an instant. Flung carelessly in a heap in the corner. With trembling hands, you reach into your nightstand and grab a small purple bullet vibrator, fumbling around to switch it on. The trusty little toy has been used many times in the past while you thought of Laris— of… stuff. As soon as it makes contact with your aching clit you whine and arch off the bed, your body flooding with relief now that you finally have some friction. You bring yourself to the peak within minutes. And again. And again. And again…

But it’s not enough.

You shove your fingers inside while stimulating yourself with the bullet. Two isn’t enough. You add another. Not enough. You sob and writhe, your stupid mutt brain and your body aching for one thing. A quick glance at the alarm clock sitting on your nightstand shows the time Larissa should be waking up for the day. You know you should let her know while your brain still works somewhat.

You lick your dry lips and reach out for your phone. Reluctantly, you switch off the vibrator and set it to the side while you call Larissa. She answers almost immediately.

“Hello, darling,” Her sweet, sleepy voice comes through the other end of the phone. “Are you alright?”

Biting back the soft whine that bubbles up from your chest proves almost impossible. The sound of her voice sends another flash of desire through you, your essence coating your shaking thighs. “Larissa,” You whisper hoarsely. “I… I can’t… Make it… Today…”

Concern rings clear through her voice as she hears you panting. “Oh? Is everything alright, dear?”

“Yeah,” Your fingers gravitate towards your swollen clit, rubbing at it slowly as you listen to her speak. You gasp before you can bite back the sound, and clear your throat. “Yeah. Just… Don’t feel so good. I’ll see you next week?”

“Okay… Get better soon, alright? Do call me if you need anything.”

“I will,” The words come out in a breathless mumble before you hang up the phone and chuck it to the side. Just the memory of her voice has you growing wetter by the second, your fingers coated in your juices as you desperately try to satisfy yourself. Flashes of her face shoot through your mind, of her large hands and long fingers…

The vibrator is snatched up again in an instant.

You spend the next hour pleasing yourself without a break. Overstimulation makes your body jolt and twitch, but you can’t stop. You can’t. It just isn’t enough. Your mind is well and truly mush at this point, shown in the way your gaze drifts towards the door and for just a second, you consider opening the door and letting your scent waft out. Waiting for the first alpha to come and claim you.

For a moment, you seriously think about it. It would make your heat more bearable. Yes, said alpha might do horrible things to you, and you don’t really want that, but…

Before you can do anything stupid, the doorbell rings.

Sobbing in frustration, you set your vibrator down again. You force yourself up on shaky legs, not bothering to put pants on. You simply tug the oversized t-shirt down over yourself and shuffle to the front door, yanking it open.

Standing there in front of you is Larissa. Clutched in her hands is a wicker basket stuffed full of gifts. Teabags, cough drops, a couple of face masks, some flowers and a small teddy bear. “Hello,” Larissa greets you with a bright smile. “Since you aren’t well, I thought I would bring—” As soon as she catches sight of you, her words trail off. “...Oh.”

“Larissa,” You gasp. You have to grip onto the door frame to keep yourself upright. Your cheeks are flushed beyond belief, your eyes glazed over and distant. There is a thin layer of sweat on your skin, not to mention the wet patches on the back of your long shirt and your thighs. “I’m in heat.”

Her own cheeks flush when she hears those words. “I… I thought you didn’t go into heat. I thought you took pills.”

“I do. Pharmacy ran out.” Those are the only words you can manage before another tidal wave of need crashes through you and you whimper, sinking to the ground.

“Oh, my darling…” Larissa coos and invites herself inside. She closes and locks the door behind her, sets the gift basket down on the coffee table, then lifts you gently from the floor. She pulls her coat off and folds it over the back of the couch, then slips her feet out of her high heels. “Come on, my sweet. Let’s get you nice and comfortable, okay?”

You know there is no comfortable for you right now, but you don’t dare mention that to her when she is being so sweet. So attentive. You feel yourself getting more wet.

She scoops you up into her arms with ease and carries you to the bedroom. Her chest rumbles a little when she clears her throat upon seeing the vibrator carelessly left on your soaked sheets. Thankfully, she says nothing about it and carefully sets you down.

It kills you to have her so close. You just want to rut against her milky white thigh and have her praise you, you want those long fingers inside you, you want her mouth on you. You’ve loved her for decades, but you’ve never felt such intense need for her in all that time.

“Larissa,” You whimper again, but you have nothing to say. You just need her attention.

“Poor thing,” She whispers. She hesitates for half a second before reaching out to brush her fingertips over your slick thigh. “What can I do for you, dear?”

That simple touch over your thigh alone makes you jolt and gasp. “Don’t… ask me that,” You plead. “You won’t like the answer.”

Larissa leans closer, her larger frame looming over yours as she reaches her free hand out to cup your chin. Her fingers are so gentle as they tilt your head back, as though she is handling something as delicate as a porcelain doll. “What can I do for you, dear?” She repeats in a firm whisper.

You melt as you’re forced to stare up into her sapphire eyes. It feels like you could become nothing more than a puddle in a pile of blankets if she continues this. “I…”

“Tell me,” She urges. Keeping her gaze fixed on you, she dips her head and presses a sweet little kiss to your jaw. “Let me help you. Tell me how.”

As pathetic as it is, the very little resolve you had left snaps as soon as you feel her lips on your skin. “Fuck me,” You pant, raising your hips unabashedly.

“Are you sure?” She asks, her grip on your chin growing slightly firmer. “Are you sure, sweetheart? I’ll do that for you if that’s what you need, but I don’t want you to regret it later…”

“Larissa!” You groan before breaking out into a pathetic ramble. “I won’t regret it. I have loved you since we were teenagers, you’re the love of my life, there is literally nobody else in this world I would rather have help me with this. You must know that. You must have picked up on how much I love y—“

Before you can even finish that word, her lips are on yours.

Both of her hands move to pin your hips to the bed, forcing you to keep still instead of uselessly writhing around. The sheets beneath you become soaked almost to the point of ruin as she kisses you hard, her tongue brushing against yours desperately. You struggle to keep up with the searing heat of her kiss, but she doesn’t seem to mind as she takes complete control. Your hips fight against her hold, and as a result she pins you down harder.

“Riss,” You whine against her lips.

“I know, darling,” She shushes you, one of her hands drifting from your hip to between your legs. You gasp out as her fingers press against you, teasing between your folds. “I know. Give me a minute, okay?”

“Can’t,” A soft sob slips past your parted lips as you pant, the pure desire for her making your body shake. “Can’t. Need you to knot me.”

“You need to wait a moment for my powers to work,” As though trying to sate you for the moment, two of Larissa’s long fingers slip inside you while her thumb rubs at your clit. When you gasp and arch into the feeling, she coos softly and begins kissing along the column of your throat. “My poor puppy. So desperate, aren’t you?”

All you can do is whine, unable to decide whether you should arch into her kisses or her fingers. Another orgasm rips through you as she circles your clit, your body squeezing around her fingers as you gasp and squirm.

“That’s it,” Larissa praises, lightening her hold on your hip. “That’s it, sweetheart. Ride it out.”

You don’t need more convincing than that as your hips move wildly through it, taking everything those digits are giving you.

But you still need more. More sobs leave you and you stare up at her pleadingly. The ability to form words on your lips has left you entirely. All you can do is whimper like the pathetic little thing you are.

“I know, puppy,” She suddenly slips her fingers out of you, making you whine louder. She shushes you firmly and you fall silent in an instant. She straightens up to her full height and begins hitching her skirt up to her thighs, unclipping her stockings and pulling down her panties. Your whole body seizes up at the sight of the penis beneath her skirt, hard and already leaking. She seems to have taken size into account, knowing you will be stretched with the knot. It isn’t too long or thick, made perfectly to fit in your tight hole.

She’s so damn considerate you can’t believe it.

Larissa lays back against the mountain of pillows you have set up, giving herself a tantalising stroke before patting her lap. “Come here, pup.”

You don’t hesitate, scrambling across the bed and setting yourself on one of her large thighs. You fight the urge to rut against it, knowing there is a much better reward waiting right there for you if you’re a good girl for her. She rests her hands on your hips and carefully guides you over here. The leaking tip of her cock rubs against your folds, teasing your clit.

“Are you positive you want this?” Larissa questions in a gentle whisper. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“It won’t hurt,” You assure her and cup her cheek. A little smile twists at your lips as she leans into the touch and sighs. Even if she hadn't created her cock to fit you perfectly, you would be so soaked and opened up by this point she could fit inside easily without hurting you.

“Okay. Relax for me, dear,” She nods. She surges forward to capture your lips with her own again. Her big hands pull you closer, and as she distracts you by kissing you like a woman starved, she slips inside you. Both of you gasp in unison, the sensation unfamiliar to each of you. She groans as your tight pussy clenches around her, taking her time to sink deeper and deeper inside you.

That isn’t going to fly with you.

Without warning, you slam your hips down and sheathe her fully inside you. She moans in surprise and chokes out, “Darling—”

Finally getting what you’ve wanted this whole time, you don’t stop. You fuck yourself feverishly on top of her, taking her cock deep inside you over and over again. You keen and whimper as your lips trail down to her neck, sucking and biting at every inch of pale skin you can reach. Even as your mind starts to blur, you have to force yourself not to sink your tiny fangs into her throat and claim her.

“Darling, please, slow down—” Despite her pleading words, her hands continue to guide your hips at the brutal pace you have set for yourself. Her head tips back against the headboard, harsh pants leaving her parted lips every second. “Gods, you need to slow down—”

The stretch of her cock inside you is like pure heaven. To finally be filled, and have her doing it, is the most exhilarating thing you could ever dream of. Having her hit that spot deep inside you, hearing her moans and knowing you are the cause of them. You’re sure you’ve had this wet dream about a hundred times over the past couple of decades, but fuck none of those dreams could ever compare to the real thing.

“You want me to slow down?” You pant in her ear, willing to do whatever she wants even that means slowing down when you just want her to fuck your brains out.

“Gods, no,” She whispers and pulls you down as she starts meeting you halfway in quick thrusts.

You moan in sheer delight, melting against her chest as she fucks you hard. Like she’s been holding back these same feelings for just as long as you have, and now she finally gets to let them out. She holds you tight to her chest with one hand while the other squeezes your ass, kneading it appreciatively between her fingers.

“Riss, I—” You gasp as yet another climax starts to bubble up in the pit of your stomach. You can already feel this one is more intense than the others, and not just because you’re far beyond oversensitive at this point.

“That’s it,” Larissa coos, “come for me, darling. Let me feel you coming around me like a good pup.”

That is all the encouragement you need. This orgasm crashes through you like a tsunami as she pumps into you hard enough to fill the room with harsh slapping sounds. Your nails tear into her shoulders, sharpening into claws that rip right through her nice blazer. Clinging onto her for dear life, your whiny moans fill the room. All you can do is keep riding her and taking her with every deep thrust as your body jolts and writhes under her hold, your whole being on fire with the pleasure she gives you.

“You want mommy to knot you, sweetheart? Want me to fill up that sweet little pussy?” She pants. Your body tightens around her cock at the sound of those words and she giggles, gripping your hips and dragging you down even harder into every snap of her own. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Yes,” You pant, nuzzling your nose into her neck and becoming pliant in her hands, allowing her to do whatever she wants with you. “Please please please. Please knot me.”

Moments later, she gives you exactly what you want. She moans sweetly into your ear, her thrusts growing sloppy before she buries herself all the way inside you. She gasps and pants as her release pulses through you, the base of her cock swelling and keeping her stuck inside your pussy.

“You’re mine, now,” She whispers possessively into your ear. You’ve never heard her use that tone with you before, and it makes you shiver with another wave of need. If she wasn’t already stuck in you, you’d be riding her all over again just for that. She brushes some hair back from your sweaty face and kisses your temple. “You’re mine, aren’t you?”

“I’m yours,” You repeat in a brainless whisper. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, darling,” Larissa sighs, brushing her nose against your cheek. “I love you so, so much.”

She holds you for a long time, rubbing her hands up and down your back and praising you in a gentle voice. When she can finally pull out of you, she does so slowly, not wanting to hurt your sensitive hole. She curls a finger inside you to feel her own come filling you, and shivers at the feeling of her own stickiness on her fingertip.

“Just beautiful,” She murmurs and casts her blue eyes up to your face. “Do you feel better now, pup?”

“Yeah,” You nod, still a panting mess -- but a satisfied panting mess. “Thank you, Larissa. You… You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know. But I wanted to,” She scoops you up and holds you close to her chest, before slipping her long legs over the side of the bed and carrying you bridal style towards the bathroom. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up, hmm?”

“Larissa?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Did you really mean it?” You ask nervously as you peer up at her. “When you said you loved me?”

“Of course,” Larissa smiles down at you. Her eyes shine with sincerity, and you can tell there isn’t a hint of dishonesty in her words. “I’ve loved you for… a very long time, sweetheart.”

There is a flutter of hope deep in your stomach as you swallow down a lump in your throat. “You have?”

“Yes.”

You can’t even bring yourself to say all of the things you want to as she perches you on the edge of the bath and begins running the hot water. As the steam fills the bathroom and she pours scented liquid into the water, all you can do is stare at her. At the red lipstick smudged across her beautiful lips, at her flushed cheeks visible even beneath her pale foundation. Her hair is still neatly pinned into place, she still looks eternally graceful despite the slight dishevelled appearance around her. This woman loves you. This… this goddess, standing before you, loves you.

“Larissa?” You clear your throat.

“Yes?” She chuckles, clearly amused by your line of questioning.

“After my heat ends, would you like to go on a date with me?” You blurt out before you can talk yourself out of it.

Larissa watches you for a long moment, a smile twitching at her painted lips. Eventually she nods, reaching out to caress your face. “I would love that.”

She bathes you with a great deal of care, making sure to be delicate near your swollen clit and cum-filled hole. You soon convince her to join you as another rush of heat goes through you, and she knots you again in the bath. Then she has to wash you all over again. Over the course of the next three days, the two of you can’t stop fucking. A couple of decades of pent up desire makes itself known in the course of a few days. During some point in those three days, she creates a set of long canine teeth for herself, sinks them into your throat and marks you as her own. At the end of it, you’re both utterly exhausted, but you’re happy.

So fucking happy.

[bluebells-and-dragonflies]

Can I request Reader asking Astarion nervously if you can spank him? Only if he's interested & after discussing about his boundaries & safe words!

Just for you, beloved anon.

NSFW below the cut! Mind the tags, and minors, please don't interact!

"So, I have a proposition for you," you begin, leaning back against the counter. Your heart pounds in your chest, but you try as hard as you can to push your apprehension down. He'd told you to be honest, after all. He'd told you to ask.

Astarion lifts his head from the book he's reading at the table in the middle of your kitchen, attention immediately redirected to you. He closes it without looking away from your face. "Oh? Do tell. You always have the most interesting ideas."

You grin at him at the same time he grins at you, and you both have to stifle a laugh. Your ideas are very interesting, if you do say so yourself. Astarion certainly tends to think so, if the way he'd flushed the time you suggested fucking him instead of the other way round was any indication.

It takes real effort to draw your focus back to the conversation at hand instead of reminiscing on where that particular discussion had led. "I was thinking about things I might like to try, like we talked about."

Astarion straightens in his chair. "Go on."

"And I came up with something else." You take a breath. There's really no good way to say it, so you just brace youself and hope for the best. "I want to try spanking. Spanking you. So do with that what you will."

There's a heavy silence once you've spoken, the two of you staring at each other in a beat of mutual thought. Anxiety surges in your chest as you watch his face, looking for any sign of discomfort or disgust. The last time you talked about sex and limits, you'd promised each other that you'd share any fantasies that came up. Astarion wants to experiment as much as possible, wants to find out what he likes, and he said he would at least consider virtually anything. But this is something you haven't tried yet: you haven't ever taken the more dominant role when those dynamics come into play. It could be a problem, you know that, and of course you're afraid that even asking will remind him of things he'd rather forget. But you want to give him the opportunity to say yes or no instead of making his decisions for him.

A slow smile starts to spread across Astarion's face as he stands up from his chair, crossing the space between you in two strides and pressing so close that you have to crane your neck up to see him properly. His fangs flash over his bottom lip, his eyes darken, and when he croons "Well, darling, I think I could be amenable," you're flooded with the heat of knowing he wants it as bad as you do.

So it is that you find yourself watching Astarion undress himself before you as you sit on the side of your bed, fully clothed. You're long past any need for modesty with each other, and he flashes you a sultry smirk as he pulls his shirt over his head.

"Same safe-words as always?" you ask. Astarion tugs his trousers down, and you get a rather delightful view of the toned muscles in his thighs as he kicks them off (and across the room, but that's something to deal with later).

"Fine with me," he says. "'Dagger' for stop. Snap of the fingers if we can't talk." His underwear goes the same way as his trousers, and before you know it he's straddling your lap, arms thrown around your neck. His lips are on yours almost instantly, and you kiss him back with pure muscle memory, raising your hands to cup his face and run your fingers through his curls. When you tug ever-so-gently, you're rewarded with the smallest moan into your mouth.

It takes the better part of fifteen minutes to get completely situated- you're entirely unable to keep your hands off of each other, and at one point Astarion nearly derails the whole thing by pinching your nipples through the fabric of your shirt- but you get there eventually. Astarion lies over your lap, facedown, his ass exposed to you. He rests his head on his arms and wiggles a little as he settles.

"Are you ready?" you ask, sliding your palm over the smooth skin of his lower back.

"Yes," he says, and no more than that. Before you have time to talk yourself out of it, you cup one of his cheeks, then quickly smack it with the flattest part of your hand.

It's not a particularly hard blow, but Astarion jolts a bit anyway, his cock dragging against the inner part of your thigh. He takes a breath- one, two, three- and you see his fingers flex in the fabric of the bedspread.

"Again," he hisses. "Gods- again," and his voice is low and strained and almost unbelievably fucking hot, and you've never been good at saying no to him. Every time you hit him, he tells you again, more. Every time you hit him, he seems to grow harder against you. You spank him again and again, alternating between cheeks, hitting every part of his ass until his skin glows pink., and you're raising your hand to deliver another blow when he stumbles on his demand.

Your hand stills. "Is this alright?"

Astarion lifts his head to look over his shoulder at you incredulously. "Are you serious?"

"I just want to hear you say it."

You can almost physically see him biting back whatever quip or barb has sprung to the tip of his tongue. "Yes, darling," he says instead, letting his head fall back down to the mattress. "It's alright. It's- it's good."

Reassured, you raise your hand. Astarion tenses when you pull away, already anticipating the next blow. it's obvious that he's expecting it (and that he wants it- he's grinding shallowly against your thigh, little aborted thrusts of his hips that he's clearly struggling to keep control of), but you refuse to give it to him, just for a second. Instead, you trail your fingertips up his side and relish in the reaction you get: a soft sigh and a gorgeous shiver.

He does look good like this, you think to yourself as you squeeze his hip just enough to win a short little gasp. What a privilege to be the one to get to see it. His ass has blushed a very pretty shade of pink where he's taken your blows. Something deep in your belly twists at the knowledge that it's your blood that courses through his veins. Your blood that fills the hard cock digging insistently into your inner thigh.

"How many more do you think, darling?" you murmur, running a soothing hand up his spine and into the downy hair at the nape of his neck. "Tell me what you want. Tell me what will get you there."

He hesitates only a moment. "Twenty." His voice is steadier than you would have thought. "Give me twenty. I..I want to know how it feels."

"Alright, love." Your hand returns to the curve of his ass. You gently press your fingertips into his reddened skin and admire the pale marks left behind.

Later, you'll remember as clearly as if you're living through it again. On the first hit, Astarion gasps, a sharp inhale of breath that he doesn't need or mean to take. On the fifth hit, he starts making sounds in the back of his throat, punched-out little ah-ah-ahs as your hand connects with his ass again and again. On the eleventh hit, Astarion begins to lose control of the movement of his body, and the restrained grind of his cock against your thighs becomes more and more frantic. On the sixteenth hit, he cries out, genuinely cries out, a wordless shout of pain and pleasure. He doesn't say his safe-word, doesn't signal you, just writhes in your lap alive with arousal and need. And on the nineteenth hit, he comes with a wanton, aching moan, unable to stop himself from leaving your thighs an absolute mess. You stop there, and when you gently brush the sweat-soaked hair from his forehead and whisper "thank you," Astarion smiles at you like you've lit the sun.

Afterward, there are hours (maybe even days) of aftercare, and the two of you discuss every single part of what you've done together: what you liked best, what you want to do again, what felt good. The next time you find yourself in the same position, it's him who asks you, a pink flush at the tips of his ears. For now, though, you're content to take care of him.

[flightlessangelwings]

His Strength

Din Djarin x fem!reader

Word count- 3.8k

Dialogue prompt- “ hey! get away from them! “ and “ don’t worry about me; are YOU okay? “ Action prompt- [ SACRIFICE ]: sender sacrifices themselves, either fatally or otherwise, in order to save the receiver’s life.

Warnings-s.mut (18+ ONLY!), fwb to lovers, protective!Din, bounty hunter reader, injury, brief violence, brief torture scene (not super descriptive and no needles or anything like that), light angst, happy ending, mutual pining, feelings, no use of y/n, ambiguous on where in the timeline it is but razor crest lives

Notes- We made it, this is the last of my Year of Protectiveness @yearofcreation2023! I actually had a different idea at first, but after some personally tragedy, I wanted to write something a little more angtsy. Don't worry tho it's still a happy ending and no major character death! Thanks so much to those who have supported this year theme endeavor with me!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so feel free to follow that and turn on post notifs to stay up to date!

~

When you first partnered with a Mandalorian bounty hunter in the guild, you never expected how much it would change your life. What started as a one time alliance for convenience turned into a partnership built on mutual respect for the other. And everything changed even more the day Mando came to you asking for help with a child he had taken in. He had told you what happened, and how he made the decision to save the child instead, and it awoke something within you that day. Even as he rescued the child from the Client, you stayed by his side and as the two of you traveled the galaxy, you felt the dynamic shift between you two.

It changed the Mandalorian that day too. From under the armor, he had always respected you, but seeing you with the child made him feel something he had never felt before. He found that his gaze lingered on you when you weren’t looking, and he found himself wondering what life would be like if you and the child could stay with him forever… as a family. 

Neither of you were sure when it happened. You were just partners one moment, and the next, became something more. There was never a whisper of it spoken out loud, though, just both of you knew something shifted. Even if it was simply for release, it changed everything between you two. He even murmured his real name to you in the throws of passion- a gift you treasured and kept safe in your heart. 

*

Sweat lined your brow as you writhed beneath the Mandalorian. His low grunts echoed from under his helmet while you bit your lip to stifle your moans. Din, as always, never took anything off, only freed his cock. You stayed mostly covered as well, something you wondered if he did to keep things feeling leveled, as if he didn’t want to feel like he was overpowering you. Only your bottoms came off, and even then they stayed around your ankles.

It started fast, heated, and fiery. The first time you and Din slept together was quick, as if you were both concerned with the moment running away from you. He just pushed your pants down enough and took you against the wall. And even with the rush, it was still a more intimate connection you had ever felt in your life. You couldn’t tell at the time, but Din felt the same way.

Over time, it moved from the wall to Din’s bunk, and from hot and hurried to slow and sensual. Din at times handled you with sure care that you wondered if he thought you would break. The way he caressed every inch of you made your heart flutter in your chest as you looked at him with a glazed over expression. Neither of you were sure when exactly it happened, but something changed as the two of you came together time and time again.

You felt it with every thrust of his cock. Though you never saw his face, you felt the emotions behind his movements and his touch. You looked into the darkness of his vizor, locking eyes with him behind it. A louder moan escaped your lips as he rocked into you again, filling you to the brim.

“Din…” you murmured as you ran your hands across his chest.

“I’ve got you,” he groaned in a low tone that went right to your core.

You whimpered at the care that lined his voice. Moving before you could second guess yourself, you let go of his broad shoulders and reached down for your own top. You grabbed and pulled it over yourself in one swift movement, exposing more of your body to Din.

He paused as his helmet nodded up and down as he soaked in the sight of your bare chest, “You’re beautiful,” he groaned as his hands wandered across your breasts. 

Mirroring your action, Din surprised you by quickly removing his gloves so that he could touch your bare skin. Both of you gasped when his large hand cupped your jaw first, then trailed down to your breast. He remained inside you yet stayed still as both of you froze in the moment. Din’s thumb brushing across your nipple was the only movement save for the way both your chests expanded with your heavy breaths.

A whimper escaped your lips as Din caressed your breast, gently pinching your nipple as he fondled you. He worshiped your body with his touch and you could hear the heavy breaths from under his helmet. Heat rose between the two of you as he kneaded your breasts.

Din murmured your name as his hand trailed up your chest and along your arms until he took your hand in his. Leaning forward, Din pressed his forehead against yours as he covered your body with his own and resumed his thrusts.

This time, you couldn’t hold back your moans. Between the way he pounded into you and the emotions that came with the intimacy of the moment, you couldn’t help the way you cried out. Din’s cock hit spots deep inside you that you never felt before, and it brought tears to your eyes.

“Fuck… Din…”

“I know,” he groaned, “Me too…”

His hand clasped around yours as he sped up his thrusts, rocking into you with abandon. You arched your back into him as you squeezed his hand right back, and your eyes fluttered shut as you felt your climax quickly approach. 

“Din… I’m…” was all you could get out before your orgasm hit you. Your entire body trembled under his beskar-clad one as you came hard on his cock. Your cries echoed in the small space as you felt Din hit your sweet spot over and over again, making you feel a pleasure unlike anything you ever experienced before.

Din growled your name as his hips became more erratic until he too hit his peak. He dropped down onto his elbows, all while never letting go of your hand as he felt wave after wave of pleasure crash through him as he spilled himself deep inside you.

Heavy breaths filled the small space between your bodies as Din rode out your orgasms together. With one final deep thrust, Din groaned as he stilled himself for a moment until he pulled out of you completely. You let out a soft whine at the loss as you felt your body pulse from the aftershocks of your powerful climax.

He gave your hand one last squeeze before he finally let go, and Din immediately grabbed your shirt so that you could cover yourself.

Mumbling a hushed “thanks,” you maneuvered yourself in the tiny space to dress yourself, slipping your shirt on before shimmying your pants back up. Vaguely, you felt Din’s gaze on you as he helped you move around on the cot. For a moment, you didn’t dare look at him. The emotions were too overwhelming after what happened. Something changed in the air between you two, but neither of you were sure how to address it.

That was when you noticed his hand still lingered on your body, holding you tightly. “Din…” you started in a whisper.

But you were interrupted when a coo from a distance made you both look up. Grugu babbled happily as he made his way outward the bunk and climbed in, settling himself in between you two.

You smiled brightly as you finally looked at Din, “We didn’t wake him did we?” you asked in embarrassment.

“I hope not,” he replied with a soft laugh in his tone, “I’m sure it’s fine,” he reassured you. 

You couldn’t help but giggle as the little child made himself comfortable between the two of you. Faintly, you heard his laughter with yours and it made your heart soar.

Din tilted his head affectionately, “Rest now,” he cradled your face, “We all need some sleep.”

Swallowing hard, you nodded. Wiggling your way around where Grogu already made himself comfortable, you laid down on your side and exhaled deeply. Din did the same after you were settled and he placed himself so that he could wrap his arm around both you and the child, holding you both close, keeping you both safe.

“Goodnight,” you murmured before you drifted off. Surprisingly, it took you no time to fall asleep, perhaps because you were warm and comfortable… and safe.

The Mandalorian, however, laid awake for some time, just listening to you and Grugu sleep. Everything he could ever want in the galaxy was tucked safely in his arms, yet it all felt so far at the same time. He knew neither you nor the child were truly his, yet he felt like the three of you were already a family. If you only knew just how much you meant to him… 

*

“I have a bad feeling about this,” you mumbled.

Din glanced over at you, but said nothing. He placed a hand on your shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze before he stepped in front of you. 

The alleyway felt like it closed in around you. Dim lights led the way as you, Din and Grogu tracked the fob and the bustle of the city faded into the distance. It was quiet, but not calming. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something felt wrong, and everything in you screamed to turn around.

Din's presence anchored you, though, and you stayed at his side as you carefully made your way toward where the fob guided you. With each step, it beeped louder until you all turned down one last alley that led to a small shack.

“Careful,” Din hissed under his breath to you.

You and Din each hovered your hands over your weapons, ready to strike. Din scanned the area, and when he found no movement, he nodded to you and opened the door slowly. You held your breath as the two of you pointed your blasters into the small space, ready for anything. However, as you inched closer, you noticed that the target laid still. Scrunching your brows, you reached a hand out to check, and with a sigh you turned back to Din, “He’s already dead.”

Din let out a soft grunt. You were right- something was off about this. But, before he could even reply, an explosion knocked both of you off balance. He shouted your name as he instinctively tried to reach for you, but you were knocked too far away from him.

A yelp escaped your throat as you found yourself thrown against the nearby wall. You groaned as your body ached, but you forced yourself up onto your elbows. Grogu’s pram was pushed next to you, and through the smoke in the distance where the front wall used to be, you saw numerous shadows appear. Din laid on the ground on the other side of the space, groaning as he too pushed himself back up.

Acting quickly, you shot up to your feet and grabbed onto the pram, “Get out of here, Grogu,” you told him and you gathered your strength, “Get out of here and get help,” you strained as you pushed the pram as hard as you could, sending it hurling out the window and into the darkness. You watched it disappear for a moment before you turned to your companion, “Din,” you breathed.

He looked over at you, but before he could even say your name, another figure appeared behind you and knocked you unconscious. Din yelled, both in fear and in anger, and attacked the enemies with everything he had, fighting until he too found his world completely black.

*

You felt the pain before you opened your eyes; your entire body ached. Faintly, you heard voices and clamoring around you, and it took you several seconds to blink your eyes open. When you did, you found yourself in a brightly lit room with several men around you. Gasping, you tried to move, but you found yourself strapped down- your wrists were bound at your sides and your ankles were tied at the end of the table you currently laid on.

“You joined us just in time,” a sinister voice spoke.

Snapping your head in the direction of the voice, you saw a tall man with a rod in his hands. The rod sparked at the end, and you knew immediately what it was for. You spat a curse at him as you struggled to get out of your binds, but that only amused him.

“She’s feisty,” he commented, “I see why you keep her around, Mando,” he moved aside to reveal Din behind him, also bound but in a different way.

The Mandalorian was on his knees, his wrists cuffed together in front of him, and several men strained to keep him in place. His shoulders rose and fell with deep breaths, and you could hear the snarl in his breathing.

“Maybe now you can tell us where the child is,” the man continued as he stepped towards you, the rod pointing right at you.

“Get away from her!” Din shouted, “Let her go!”

He ignored him, the rod hovering just above your skin, “Let’s hear how pretty you are when you scream,” he hissed.

“No!” Din struggled in vain as he tried to break free.

The searing pain from the rod against your skin made you scream before you could fight it. Pulse after pulse of electricity shot through your entire body, and it was the worst pain you had ever felt in your life. Your eyes snapped shut as you tried to wriggle away, but it was no use. You were trapped, and there was nothing you or Din could do.

Your screams went right to Din’s chest, “Stop!” he shouted. Fueled by his rage at seeing you hurt, Din finally broke free of his captors and with a grunt, knocked them out. “It’s me you want. Leave her alone,” Din panted, “Don’t hurt her.”

Din smashed the binders that held his wrists together, shattering it, before he grabbed his small vibroblade that he kept hidden. The room turned into a frenzy as the other men attacked him, but he fought them off until he reached the leader, the one who hurt you.

Amused at the scene, the leader pulled out a blade of his own and countered Din's attack, “Is this… love, Mandalorian?” he asked as he parried Din's attack.

The Mandalorian just growled as rage consumed him. He went blade to blade with the leader a few times, but he soon made a mistake. Din glance over at you, still bound to the table with tears in your eyes. He hesitated for just a moment as the sight of you like that broke him, and that was when the leader stuck, stabbing Din right between the plates of his armor.

“Has a woman made you soft?” he teased in a low voice as he drove the blade deeper, "How sweet," he spat.

Your eyes went wide as your mouth opened to let out a scream, but nothing came out. Instead, all you could croak out was a hushed, "Din..."

Tears fell from your eyes as you wailed and thrashed in your binds, desperate to do something. Maniacal laughter filled the room as Din slumped down, the blade still in his body. You whimpered as you tried to fight through the pain that coursed through your body and free yourself, but it was no use. This was the end. And you didn’t even get to tell him…

Suddenly, the wall on the far side burst open in an explosion and dozens of Karga’s men flooded into the room. They fought off your captors in a heated fight. And through the flames and blaster fire, you saw the familiar outline of the child, who waddled over to you. It was the last thing you saw before you passed out from the pain. 

*

Din woke with a gasp. The last thing he remembered was getting stabbed, hearing you scream and then an explosion. He had no idea where he was, but he did notice that his hands weren’t bound anymore. And the pain had dulled to an ache in his side. But, more than his own injuries, he was more concerned with where you were. Thankfully for him, your voice was the next thing he heard.

“Din,” you gasped, “It’s alright, we’re ok,” you were right next to him.

Din laid back down with a groan as the pain suddenly intensified. But it didn’t matter, you were here, and you were ok. He whispered your name, “What happened?”

“Grogu found backup,” you sounded tired, “Karga and the others found us just in time.”

He groaned, “Grogu?! Where is he?”

“Shh,” you tried to calm him, knowing how much the kid meant to him, “He’s alright. He’s resting in the next room. It took a lot out of him… healing us…”

“Are you alright?” was his next question after a pause.

Your eyes went wide, “Don’t worry about me. Are you ok?”

Din cupped your face, “As long as you and the kid are alright…”

“Don’t say that,” tears filled your eyes before you could stop them. You let out a shaky breath before you added, “Din, you… You sacrificed yourself… For me…” your voice trembled. 

He groaned as he slowly pushed himself up to sit. You mumbled incoherent concerns as you helped him up, and once Din was upright, he found himself almost eye level with you due to the height of the cot. Din let out a heavy sigh as his heart skipped a beat in his chest at the way you looked at him. Though he hated to see tears in your eyes, he noticed the care and concern that highlighted your features.

“Din…” you breathed as he cupped your face once more.

As he gently cradled your face in his hand, Din murmured, “Keeping you and Grogu safe,” he hissed slightly from the pain, “Is all that matters to me. You two are all that matter to me.” Din spoke in a sincere voice.

Fresh tears filled your eyes, but not ones of sadness. You longed to hear him say those words, and now that you heard them, the emotions became overwhelming. “I care about you too, Din,” you whispered as you leaned into his touch, feeling his thumb brush across your cheek, “You and the kid… You’re my family. My everything.”

Din let out a deep breath, “I trust you,” his tone was soft, “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” you breathed without hesitation.

He slid his hand up your face to rest over your eyes. Your mouth dropped open as a sigh escaped your lips, but you said nothing and made no attempt to move. You put yourself completely in his hands, knowing you were safe in them. But, you gasped when you heard the hiss of his helmet, and felt the gentle breath from Din’s own lips.

Din leaned in and tenderly placed his lips over yours, using his free hand to keep his helmet covering the rest of his face. You both moaned softly into each other as you savored the feeling of your lips together for the first time. The kiss was soft and sweet, yet it held all the emotions the two of you held close to your hearts. Now that everything was out in the open, though, you and Din both felt like you could share this vulnerability with each other.

You tilted your head to the side as you placed your hands on Din’s armored chest and parted your lips in a silent invitation. Din eagerly took it and deepened the kiss by darting his tongue past your lips. He groaned into you and pushed his chest more into your body as the taste of you sent a jolt of electricity through his veins. A tear of his own slid down his face as he memorized the taste of you and the feeling of your face against his.

As much as neither of you wanted to break away, you needed air. Reluctantly, you both parted at the same time, sharing the air that you both inhaled. Din carefully pulled his helmet down and covered your eyes, taking a moment to admire the subtle features of your face as you kept your eyes closed.

“Look at me,” he said gently.

You blinked your eyes open, and knew from the way he tilted his head to the side that he was admiring you. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you felt his eyes stare at you through the darkness of the visor. “Thank you,” you whispered, “For saving my life,” you slid your hand in his.

“You never have to thank me, mesh’la,” Din murmured as he squeezed your hand and moved his free one to cup the back of your head, “I’ll always protect you,” he continued in a low tone as he guided your head closer to his until your foreheads touched. Din knew his love for you and Grugu didn't make him weak, despite what the leader said. In fact, it made him stronger than ever, it drove him to fight harder to protect you both.

You let out another deep breath as your eyes closed and you cherished the moment. Being held by Din made you feel safe and warm, even with the cold armor he wore. You felt the warmth of his touch, the warmth of his love, even through the beskar. “Let’s go see our kid,” you broke the silence with a smile in your tone.

Din let out a soft, amused huff that told you he was smiling too, “Yeah,” he murmured, “Let’s get our family back together.” 

[lundenloves]

couples counselling

Here we go, couples counselling and fuckin’ penetrating questions. Writing this made me realise just how much I can’t be arsed with therapy situations. But that won’t stop me from writing them. *Manic laughter followed by smokers cough.* Happy reading, kids.

↳ angst | mentions of sex, although nothing explicit | 1.4k

this gif should be a warning in itself. javier being dismissive and high-key rude, just the way we like him.

masterlist | part two

Ten years. Ten long, doubtful, and aggressive years since the day Aleta Lopez had married Javier Peña. They both had nothing to show for it, nothing but a ring and an impressive list of things that frustrated her. And him likewise, except he had taken his wedding band off months ago for the poor excuse of work.

Needless to say, their therapist had swallowed hard before taking the session money from Javier. If this wasn't a challenge, she hadn't known one before.

They both sat down, a good distance left between one another and that was when the the Doctor had began. "Mr and Mrs Peña." She cleared her throat, "Why are we in counselling?" Her eyes ticked to Javier who had chuckled to himself, rubbing his finger across his lip and over his mustache. He thought this was fucking ridiculous.

"Because I was forced." The drawl of his accent made Aleta scoff.

"You weren't forced."

"So you asked me?" He asked, forcing a cynical smile.

The Doctor shifted in her seat, closing one side of her coat over the other. The first session in counselling wasn't to solve problems, but it was to figure out the issues that led to being in the room. Javier hadn't expected anything other than a grilling, he just wanted to get this hour over with and go home to sleep.

"How long have you been together?" The doctor asked.

"Coming up ten years." Aleta smiled half-heartedly and Javier kicked his leg wide, stomping the heel of his boot while sliding his back down on the couch ever so slightly. As if this whole thing was a fucking inconvenience.

"Ten. Years." He repeated to himself, almost in shock.

"Any children?" Her question was directed at him, earning a crease in his brow and a vigorous shake of the head as a response. His wife's eyes lingered on his reluctancy for a second too long when he had glanced back at her with a stiff frown.

"Marriage?"

"We got married when we were nineteen." Aleta supplied and Javier exhaled a deep sigh from his chest, pushing a hand through his hair before dropping it to rest over his belt buckle.

"Why did you marry?"

Aleta looked to him and he shrugged, his eyes directed back down to his boots, stomping the same one once more. "I mean, why do people marry?" His eyes widened in pause for the question, extending his palm as if it were obvious. "We loved each other. Come on, that doesn't take fucking counselling."

"Loved?" Aleta sat forward.

With a shrug he replied. "Don't act shocked."

The doctor observed quietly, tilting her head slightly at Aleta's low hum. "The loss of feelings isn't mutual?" She felt utterly stupid. Cheeks burning slowly into a red that grew darker by the second. Javier only eyed her from his peripheral, crossing his arms over his chest and biting on his top lip nonchalantly.

"We haven't spoken about it." She refused to look at him.

"Is it something you avoid?"

"No." Her response was curt. "There's no opportunity. He's never around."

His silence was broken momentarily with a slight chuckle, weight shifting to lean on his forearm as if preparing himself for gomething. "That's shit." His eyes lingered on hers, although through his brows.

"No it's fucking not."

He growled when sitting back.

"You seem annoyed by the accusation, Javier." The Doctor said, noting the way his knee had begun to bounce up and down. "Is that how you feel?" His glare was piercing, as if she had touched something she wasn't supposed to.

"You sure are good at your job, sweetheart." His answer came with a condescending shrug of one shoulder. "Doesn't take two-hundred dollars an hour to notice that." Voice deepening ever so slightly when he had shifted to extend his legs out again, dropping his arm around the back of the sofa where his long fingers rested mere centimetres from Aleta's neck.

“Javier.” She hissed.

The Doctor cleared her throat, “How long have you felt aloof from the marriage?”

His fingers rubbed the back of the sofa, other hand pushed over his face and he held it there with a sigh before pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know.” The answer was obviously sincere with the way his jaw flexed at Aleta’s narrowed eyes.

“Why do you think you haven’t opened up about it?”

His chest had risen with a sharp inhale at the question, breathing out a frustrated exhale through his nose - brow deeply furrowed while his glare burnt holes into the ceiling. He was intent on making his discomfort known.

Aleta’s whole body turned to face him. “There’s another woman, isn’t there?” It wasn’t so much as a question as it was an accusation.

He screwed his face.

“There must be. Why else would you spend so much time away? I know fine fucking well your job doesn’t need you on weekends, Javi.” Her tone dug into him like poison and he too turned to face her, rubbing his temple with a slight laugh.

“Are you serious?”

“Do I look serious?”

He sat back with crossed arms, shaking his head with a mockingly small smile at her absurdity.

There was a moment of silent communication between the two. The medium of facial expressions carrying words that they had both understood easily through practiced perfection over the last ten years. The next thing the Doctor would say however, had both heads turning. One in amusement, one in embarrassment.

“When was the last time you had sex?”

Javier snorted at that, gesturing with a straightened hand and a tilt of his head for Aleta to answer.

“Last month.” She conceded.

“I’m gathering it’s not usually between months?” The Doctor queried.

The side of Javier’s lip twitched, his hand falling to rest over his lap. “She never wants to.”

“What about it makes you reject him, Aleta?” She was met with a silence, her eyes flitting between the ones that avoided her. “Okay. Let me rephrase.” A beat. “Javier, why continuously try if you say she never wants to?”

“Because he’s a man.” She piped up, “Because he’s a man— and I’m the conventional target.”

“No. You’re my wife.”

“Only when it fucking suits.” Her arms pulled to her chest tightly.

Javier couldn’t help but laugh at the situation, only fuelling her annoyance when he had pushed his head into his hands. The Doctor noted her sensitivity around his inability to take seemingly anything serious. “Sex is one of the most important things in a stable relationship.”

“Doesn’t matter to Javi, he’ll fuck his hand regardless.”

“Ay, en serio?” He barked. “I’m not the issue here.”

Her eyes avoided his and instead stared pointedly down at the floor.

“Not either of you is singularly the issue.” The Doctor quoted him, sitting forward in her seat ever so slightly. “There’s a mutual problem.”

“Why are we even trying to fix it?” Javier stared out the window, distancing himself from the words he was speaking. “It’s done, no? I don’t love you, you don’t—“

“I do fucking love you.” Her voice was uncharacteristically quiet and calm, causing Javier to turn and look at her, a prominent frown creasing over his brow. “Malo.” She muttered to herself.

The Doctor allowed for a silence between the two, sitting back and letting the uncomfortableness kick in. Javier began tapping on his knee, happy to sit in stubborn quietness before Aleta had broke it.

“When did you stop loving me then?”

He sighed with a long exhale, crossing an ankle over his knee, arm still across the back of the sofa. “I can hardly pinpoint the day, Aleta.” His words dripped with mounding impatience.

She shifted, turning back to the Doctor for a haven that was granted.

“How about we continue this next week?” She looked between the two, receiving no response. “All I want is for you both to spend time looking at each other. Really looking at each other. Re-familiarise one another with your bodies, not intimately but in another way you both know.”

Javier’s shoulders dropped, standing up before being formally dismissed. Aleta watched as he left the room with a sarcastic raise of his brows, leaning on the doorframe for half a second to give the Doctor a nod of acknowledgement.

“See you next week.” She spoke for both of them, sending an apologetic smile that turned into a stark frown upon leaving the room.

This was going to be a long seven days.

taglist? fill out this form.

[atlasdoe]

Things that The Marauders fandom say that pisses me off

warning: i will not be holding back. if you are sensitive do not read. feel free to disagree or anything in the replies but don't be a dick

i'm only doing this cause i'm bored and have a lot of rage in me

also just to be clear if we're mutuals then i'm not on about you :)

"It's so sad that one of the only things we have in cannon is the prank"

or something along those lines. If knowing that the prank is cannon makes you upset then I have some great news for you. Nobody cared about the prank in cannon!!!! it's literally just another Tuesday for the Marauders and not once does anybody lose any friends or hold any grudges about it!! yay, now you can sleep at night!

"Dumbledore raised an army of children twice"

I've already spoken about this before but for anyone who wasn't here please know that this is a lie! Neither time did Dumbledore raise an army of children. You had to be an adult to join The Order and although the Marauders were young they were not children. As for everyone else, their ages are not confirmed. We are the ones who made Marlene and Dorcas the same age as them. For all we know The Marauder's could've been the youngest in the Order by far. As for the DA, Dumbledore literally had no part in that. It was Hermione, Harry and Ron who made the DA. All Dumbledore did was take the blame for it because they named themselves after him

"Dumbledore could've helped Regulus, Evan and Barty"

Firstly it amazes me how these three are the only Death Eaters yall have any sympathy for. I understand Regulus to a point considering we only really hear good things about him from Kreacher but with Evan and Barty genuinely what makes them so special?? Evan is in the exact same pool as Wilkes and y'all don't give a shit about them. Also Barty helped resurrect Voldemort and tortured Frank and Alice. Either way regardless on if you like them or not trust me when i say that if they would've gone to Dumbledore for help he would've helped them. When have we ever seen Dumbledore turn somebody down because they were a Slytherin. This man literally tried to help Draco as he was about to kill him and help the Death Eaters take over Hogwarts. Dumbledore doesn't know everything and he's never passed on the chance for a new spy.

"This fandom is misogynistic for making Lily/Tonks bad mothers/surrogates"

Fanfiction does not equal headcannons. Just because Lily or Tonks are bad mothers in a fanfiction does not mean that the author dislikes them or thinks that they're a bad person in cannon. Also reading about your favourite ship raise a child is a very common trope in fanfiction and as much as Harry and Teddy are Lily and Tonks children they are also James and Remus'. James and Remus are just as responsible for their children and I see nobody batting an eye when the roles are reversed. On top of all of this, Lily and Tonks were young mothers and it's very likely that they would make mistakes or in other universes not be as good as they were in cannon. That does not make them bad people nor does it make them unworthy of being liked. If you don't like it, don't read it cause i know that nobody is saying that Regulus and James raised Harry in cannon.

"Marlene/Dorcas/Mary/Evan is so underrated!"

No they're not. They're mentioned like once or twice. If anything they're incredibly overrated. Nothing wrong with that. Just facts

"Jily is dying out because people are scared to go against Jegulus"

Don't make me laugh. Jily is one of the only cannon ships we have they are literally the blueprint to the entire series. Jily is not dying out, you're just seeing more Jegulus posts because you keep interacting with them and fucking up your own algorithm in order to argue with people in comment sections

"[Insert ship here] need to stop hating on [Insert another ship here] (same with characters)"

I remember one time in the Riverdale fandom when a Bughead shipper did an interview with a magazine pretending to be Lili Reinheart and told this magazine that Bughead will be cannon just to piss the Barchie shippers off. Y'all would not survive "real" fandoms. Just because somebody doesn't like your ship does not make it hate and even if someone does say something like "Jily is trash and I hate it" so fucking what?? it's one person and trust me there is another room on the internet for the both of you. I don't even think I've seen anyone truly post hate about a ship since 2020 when i was in the instagram fandom and the Wolfstar and Blackinnon shippers had each other by the throat

"Jegulus came out of nowhere and I don't understand why people ship it"

Jegulus has been around for as long as i have (2018) and at least to me it's very obvious why people like it. It's the best friends brother, opposite sides of the war, secret relationship, forbidden romance tropes that people love. it's not that hard to understand. And as I said before we know just enough about Regulus to get some sense of what he was like but not all of the bad parts.

"Sirius was tall but Remus was TALL"

There's nothing necessarily wrong with this. I just hate it. Especially if you're commenting on somebody's post about how Sirius is canonically tall. Half the time, unless they say it themselves, they don't think that Remus is taller and don't care if you do

that's all i've got for now. i may do this again :)

[whatitshouldvebeen]

Can you do a Johnny x reader where the reader is also a caniball (excuse my spelling😅) and Johnny introduces her the the family because of that (btw love your work 🤩 proud of you)

Blood Stained Grin

Johnny Slaughter x Reader

Contains; cannibalism, murder, graphic depictions of killing, drinking blood

•••

During your lunch breaks, you became a familiar face at Drayton's gas station. So much so that Drayton often had your plate ready and waiting. The flavor was irresistible �� Drayton's mastery of BBQ was evident, and you savored not just the taste but the forbidden knowledge that it was, in fact, human. There's a unique satisfaction in indulging in the slightly porky, fatty meat of another person, and you reveled in the power dynamics of being at the top of the food chain.

Discovering the Last Chance gas station was a stroke of luck. You would have never settled down in this unknown town if not for its cuisine. You, unlike the usual patrons, belonged to royalty – a fact that you attempted to hide, but clearly set you apart from the regular clientele. There's only so much of a royal upbringing that you can disguise away, after all. 

You'd been forced into an exile of sorts. Your bloodthirst was too great, and too obvious. The rest of your family kept their cannibalistic tendencies strictly to maintain their youth and rituals; such as through bathing in the blood of the young, or consuming the flesh of those who'd dared to look into the dark underbelly of your cabal. 

You knew the government was in your pocket, and your family was beloved by the drooling masses, but you'd messed up. You just couldn't help yourself from luring young men in with your charms and riches only to slit their throats when you had them in your bed, and send their bodies to the chefs to prepare. You'd done it too many times, enough to draw suspicion, and your family exiled you to the United States, far away from home. 

It turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to you. 

“Noticed yer plate was empty. Need seconds?” Drayton asked, smiling that friendly buck-toothed smile you'd come to respect. 

“Yes, please.” You nodded. 

“Johnny!” Drayton yelled back toward the kitchen, moving away from you. “Need you to feed our best customer, I gotta check somethin’ out back!” 

A tall man with dark brown slicked-back hair stepped into view with a plate of Drayton's finest, bringing it out to you with a calculating look in his dark eyes. 

“Drayton says you're here every day,” he said, sucking his tongue behind his teeth. “You don't look like the standard type'a folk we usually get.”

“That's because I'm not,” you said with a charming grin. You had seen Johnny around, but this was the first time he'd spoken to you. 

He looked good enough to eat.

“You like the meat, hm?” He asks, cocking his head. There's something more in his voice, something that hints at a shared understanding.

“It's my favorite. Nothing else like it,” you say, joining him in the mutual secret. You both know what the meat is, but which of you will be the first to admit it?

He runs his hand through his greased hair, grinning at you. “You seem like the type to respect the process to makin’ real good meat.” He leans closer. “Want a tour?”

You nodded to your plate. “After I finish this, sure.”

“I'll get you somethin’ fresher. Here, come with me.” He holds out a hand. You glance down at your plate then back at him, deciding to take him up on his offer. He pulls you up and takes you toward the back door, opening it and leading you outside.

There you see all sorts of vehicles, worn down and broken, and a generator. He leads you past all that, back to a shack. 

If you were less confident, you would have been scared. But you can sense there's a mutual understanding between you and Johnny. You know he's not going to try anything.

Besides, if he did, you'd use the concealed blade up your sleeve to slit his throat before he could think twice.

You hear it now as you descend the stairs into the basement of the shack. Something muffled, desperate. You recognize it, and revel in it. The sounds of impending death.

Your heartbeat speeds up, and your pupils widen. God, you missed this. The screams, the torment. Music to your ears. 

“Wanna see?” Johnny asks in a low tone. You nod, and he opens the sliding metal door, leading you further into the depths. 

The basement is nothing like the torture chambers back home, but it's respectable. These people clearly only eat the meat, not going so far as to harvest their victim's fear for adrenochrome like your family was proficient at. 

You'd have to teach them. 

Johnny leads you to the back room, where the screams are loudest. There you spot a behemoth of a man wearing another man's face, skinning the flesh of their latest victim who's shrill screams echo off the walls. 

To the left of the room, you see a young woman with dirty blonde hair painting a picture as if there isn't a man being skinned alive a few feet away. Beside her, a young man jitters in place excitedly, his eyes flitting between you and the scene. 

And then there's Drayton.

“Boy! What the hell you bringing her down here for, she's one of my best customers! I didn't wanna haveta kill her!” He yells angrily, standing up and approaching you and Johnny. The man wearing a face gets startled, accidentally cutting into the victims forearm, who looses a pained scream.

“Don't worry, old man. Can't you tell? She's one of us,” Johnny says proudly. 

“What the hell you talkin’ about, boy?” Drayton says.

“She eats people too!!” The gangly young man beside the painting woman exclaims happily. The woman seems completely oblivious to everything and everyone.

“Nubbins is right, ain't he?” Johnny asks, turning to you. 

You nod, your smile growing. “I know human when I taste it. I settled down in this town just for your BBQ, Drayton.”

Johnny beams, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “See? One of the family. And she's just in time to help with dinner. Back up, Bubba,” Johnny says, and the colossal man obeys. Johnny tries to hand you a Bowie knife, but you shake your head.

You step forward, your hands shaking not from fear but from excitement. It had been so long since you'd been here, standing over a desperate man with fear-stricken eyes. When you reach the man laid out on the table, you place a hand on his sweaty forehead soothingly.

Your other hand comes up to trace his cheek, and he whimpers. Then, in one fluid motion, you unsheath your hidden blade and slit his throat. Blood pours into your waiting hand, and you bring it to your lips, savoring the delicious sticky heat. 

When you turn back, Johnny is grinning. You return his grin, your teeth stained red. 

“Welcome to the family.”

[toomuchracket]

I need to see that bitch (bday party matty) jealous. Maybe you’re at an event or something and you meet this editor guy you used to have a fling with and he sees how amicable the guy is being and just, let’s say, get handsy

Pretty pleaseeee 🫶

jealous bday party matty literally be still my beating heart. you don't wanna blindside him, so a little while before the event day itself you let your boyfriend know that a literary agent ex of yours is likely going too because one of his authors is nominated for an award - you also let him know that it wasn't a serious thing at all, short, amicable breakup because you didn't really feel anything for the guy past vaguely fancying and liking, and you haven't spoken to him in a year. matty nods along and stays chill on the surface, but internally he can't help seething a little bit; he never met this ex of yours (it really was a short relationship), but he remembers mutual friends gushing about how nice he is and how happy you were, remembers looking him up online one lonely drunken night and thinking how insipid he was and how wrong he was for you, remembers developing a short-lived loathing of the man simply because he was with you, the actual love of matty's life. but whatever. matty's the one you love, the one whose arms you fall asleep in, the one you know for a fact you're going to grow old with, and this guy is nothing and nobody. so you go to the event, and it's fine, it's good, it's lovely, until the ex (wearing a wedding ring, mind you) comes over and gives you a friendly hug hello and says "you look gorgeous, as ever! how are you?", and matty's vision literally tints green. through some grace of god, or whatever, he manages to remain cordial to the man in the less than five minutes you chat to him, forcing a smile when the guy says he's happy for you both and you're great together - as soon as he fucks off and you lead matty to the bar, your boyfriend's arms are hugging you from behind, and he's leaning down to press a less-than-chaste kiss to your neck while you wait for your french martinis. you smirk, turning your head to kiss matty quickly, giggling into him when he deepens the kiss and murmuring "matthew, people are going to talk if we keep this up", and he's like "so? i wanna kiss my girl"; unfortunately for him, the drinks arrive, and you have to take your seats for the event starting. thank christ you're not actually doing anything more than showing face as a former winner tonight, by the way, because you'd have a pretty hard time extracting matty's hand from your thigh under the table if you needed to move - over the course of the night, that hand makes its way further and further under your clothes, first your dress and then your thong, and following your subtle nod your boyfriend's fingers find their way to your clit and inside you, working deftly to bring you to an orgasm muffled by your hand and applause for whoever just one the prize of the night. the smirk doesn't leave his face (until you get home and sit on it) after that, and gets even wider when he, um, gives your ex a goodbye handshake, before turning to walk to the car with you snuggled into him and his other hand resting on your ass. yeah. that's a fun night, both the event and you proving to matty he's the only one for you when you get home by letting him cum inside you. hot <3

[based--ball]

rpf rambles below and also me info because why not

i saw a drag show tn that involved a drag king with a glittery baseball bat and um. WOW. i will not post pics/videos because it would doxx me So Hard (if i have told you vaguely where i live somehow/if you're in the jays server/if we're mutuals who have ever spoken then you can ask and i will almost certainly send i just don't want to post it to the world) but just know it's kind of insane and also please mlb players. you could serve cunt in a massively amazing way Please just get the glitter going. vlad... bryce... anyone... (kas @moregraceful and i have determined that they would be 2 perfect candidates for glitter drag baseball. we are correct and our brains are so smart.)

ok now rpf for real:

i have written so little in the past like 2 weeks :(

i want to write my romansen fic so so so much but i stare at it and like. i know very specific visions that need to be there. i wish i could image blast visions onto a page but alas i cannot. anyone who has been informed about my romansen fic please know the following:

it will NOT involve any trades and/or non-tenderings they will both be happy jays and this is very much pre-trade with no hints of future issues

so far i have about 1500 words and i believe 1000 of those words are before they even leave danny's garage

it will be a HAPPY ENDING with HAPPINESS and NO ANGST AT THE END (there will be perhaps very mild angst in the middle due to the nature of being a gay person obsessed with a best friend but nothing worse than my multi-year crush on a best friend moment. which i survived and i am now dating that person <3)

i will post this by december 12th for time begins because i have decided that i must. however i also have finals starting dec 7. and my honour's project progress report due dec 6. so i do not have any fucking idea how i'm going to write ANYTHING before exams are over dear god

i have looked at the poll and yeah everyone wants me to get physics-y nerd with some dream scene that doesn't matter so yes i will!!!

in other news please message me if you want some truly obscene footage of danny jansen's legs and ass because wowwww they really just post ANYTHING on offseason workout videos holy shit

in other other news i feel the need to collage however i do not know what to collage about so also message me if you have inspo. i cannot promise to take it but i will consider it deeply.

i might not fill the varsho therapy prompt because i am dead and dying more but i want to but i have no inspiration. i will consider.

i am deeply upset about the romano situation what if i kill myself (i will not i promise i am safe and fine i am just EVIL)

ok that's my update goodnight i will go try to write my romansen fic without screaming about irl events

[chaotic-on-main]

Hey! May I request a Drabble of some Levi fluff? Whatever you want, just something that’s comforting :)

I am SO SORRY this took me 25 days to get to l;askjdf I promise I was trying but nothing was coming to me. THAT IS until I heard Yuck by Charli XCX and I got so inspired and ended up getting this done in an hour. This turned out a little differently than what I initially had in mind but I think it turned out okay. I might do another part to it with what I initially had in mind, lol. pls no one @ me for writing yet another modern au a;lskdf

Curveball | ModernAU Drabble

☾ Pairings ➼ Levi Ackerman x gn!Reader

☾ Content/Warnings ➼ teeth rotting fluff I guess??, meet-cute, coffeeshopAU

☾ Word Count ➼ 631

When you and Levi had initially started dating, he went into it knowing he had no idea what he was doing. He had spent a lot of his formative years and then some scoffing at relationships because he had better things to worry about, or so he thought. You came into his life at the worst time possible, but that was just like you. Unpredictable, unorganized, and messy.

Both of you had been regulars at this one coffee shop in the center of town for a while now. He felt your glances from over your books that seemed to change with every visit. Levi also noticed early on how you were always there when he was, but was that a coincidence? He didn’t know. Your mutual visits continued for a while, neither of you saying anything to each other besides the quick nod of acknowledgment that you started throwing his way a month into them.

Then one day, Levi glanced up from his work laptop only to realize quickly you weren’t there. He didn’t know when or why it started, but he felt a pang of worry churn in his chest from your absence. Did he get the day wrong? Were you okay? These questions festered in his thoughts as he got up to refill his cup only to bump into you on the way to the counter.

"Can we talk?" That voice of yours coming out of your soft lips made his stomach ache with butterflies. This was the first time you had ever spoken to him and the way it made him feel dumbfounded.

"Sure" He mutters back, sitting back down as you take the opposite seat.

It felt like bees were buzzing in his skull the whole time you talked. You rambled on about something that had happened on your way here. Levi was convinced this was your way of procrastinating on what you really wanted to talk about. It was annoying, but you were so endearing about it.

"I don't really have all day..." Levi trails off, making sure to do his best to drop his usual cold tone. There's a long pause.

Your face was as flushed as could be, but you swallow your anxiety before blurting out, “Will you go on a date with me?” You probably didn’t mean to, but it came out loud and reverberated off the next to empty café walls.

Levi spent his whole life learning to expect the unexpected. But this was one curveball he was not prepared to be hit with. Silence ensued as you both stared at each other for a moment.

Levi was so caught up in trying to piece together what you had just asked him that he didn’t notice fast enough that you had launched yourself out of the chair and through the main door with a slam. His brain couldn’t process why, but he was already shoving everything on the table into his work bag then throwing himself into the fresh air and bright afternoon sun.

Levi would have missed you had you been faster, but fortunately for him, you weren’t. He was able to clock your figure disappearing around the corner. He didn’t have to go far because as he rounded the same corner, he ran straight into you. It seemed you had stopped to catch your breath and assumed Levi wouldn’t have chased after you. The first of many things that he would prove wrong to you.

He grips onto your arms to keep you both steady before letting go quickly. Your eyes are as big as saucers as you realize who it was. Levi would be lying if he said they weren’t the most gorgeous color he’d ever seen.

“Yes.” Just a simple yes. And it was music to your ears.

Please join my taglist to be notified for future content!

[dirty-bosmer]

20 questions for writers

Thanks to @thequeenofthewinter for the tag <3

Tagging: @elavoria @atypicalacademic @gilgamish @nuwanders @ladytanithia @sheirukitriesfandom @throughtrialbyfire @lucien-lachance @miraakulous-cloud-district @bostoniangirl21 @terendelev

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

6

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

704,291 😅

3. What fandoms do you write for?

The Elder Scrolls and probably only ever the elder scrolls. Mostly Oblivion but I have one Skyrim lonngfic in the works. I read fic in several other fandoms, but this one has me by the throat.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Well, I only have 6 in the first place so it's not saying all that much.

5. Do you respond to comments?

I do the best I can to! Sometimes one slips by me on a particularly busy week, and then I'm too mortified by the lapse of time to answer. I don't think it's happened too often, but please know I read them all and am always grateful for them ❤️

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Haven't finished either of them yet, but it's gotta be The Illusionist Part 2, which is an Oblivion novelization with emphasis on the Dark Brotherhood and Mages Guild, or Beyond the Break, which is just me crying about Mathieu Bellamont.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Treacle which is still hella angst lmao, but Scar-Tail does live happily ever after, and it's all thanks to @atypicalacademic for the inspiration ❤️❤️❤️ I have also vowed to make my Skyrim fic, Slither and Writhe happier 😤 Thus far, it's going... well, it is going.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I haven't, and the few dissenting opinions that I have received I wouldn't consider hate either. They're just opinions. I hesitated to mention this, but since I was LITCHRALLY talking about Lucien Lachance on one of Ray's posts a few minutes ago, in the past I have receive messages detailing how my interpretation of Lucien is distasteful, given he is unabashedly a villain in my story and 1/2 of a toxic relationship (also he's... kind of pathetic lol). It's a darkfic and not for everyone, I'm well aware. Fortunately, many of my very lovely, talented friends and mutuals write great Lucien fics that are different from mine, so at the end of the day we all get what we want :D Variety is the spice of life, and you can pry grossnasty Lucien out of my cold, dead fingies.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I write sexual content (idk what counts as smut). Originally, I wrote all the sex scenes as fade-to-black, and while they're not super graphic, while editing a few months ago I thought "you know what, this needs more cunt." So yeah. The sex scenes have become a bit more explicit now than they were in the first iteration.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Nah, and I don't think I ever will.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge, and unless people are out there lifting passages of my writing and inserting it into their fics, I'm not going to claim ownership over ideas. We're all playing in the same sandpit, and while the execution is my own, I find it quite difficult to say the stories are totally original or novel because all my writing, from concepts to style, have been influenced in some way by the works of others.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

No, but I've tossed around some ideas with @zomboidatomic that may or may not one day bear fruit...

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

I've worked them all out of my system at this point, tbh. Romance doesn't really do anything for me on its own without compelling characterizations and intriguing plot. I select by other tags over ship most of the time too. That said I've been driven crazy by some of my friends ships with characters I've never even spoken to before. If it's good it's good, you know. (Though I am currently re-watching Hannibal and I will confess that I am still ill about Hannigram ajkfhalg)

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I'm going to finish them all, dammit!

16. What are your writing strengths?

Characterization, I think, especially when writing people who are awful lmao I've received a lot of compliments when it comes to writing villains and morally grey characters.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Ugh, I am so self-indulgent. Sometime last year I edited The Illusionist part 2 and trimmed out 60k words. It was so BLOATED (probablly still is). I think there were times when the plot got sidelined because I had an idea for a fun scene. Yes, I love writing Lucien and Nim hate-fucking and tearing each other apart in some weird mashup of Tommy Wiseau in The Room and the alien in The Thing. No, I did not need three chapters of this back to back, but I wanted it...

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

If the plot calls for it, then by all means 👍

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Hmm, now that I think of it it may have been a Fallout 3 Harkness fic that I kept in a composition notebook when I was 12. It will never see the light of day, obivo.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

OoOoh, that's tough. Slither and Writhe already feels stronger to me because I'm a more experienced writer, and I actually planned it out, but The Illusionist is my first baby.

[hekateinhell]

this is from a while ago but you mention on that poll about armand's love interests you have a few different ways you interpret the blood communion speech armand gives lestat about loving him. i'm curious what your takes are, if you don't mind sharing :) as a daniel/armand shipper, i've always read a lot into the fact daniel isn't name-dropped - as though he's an exception or what they have is something more than just love... though the out of universe explanation is probably just he was forgotten (also apologies if you answered this before and i missed it)

Actually, I know I talk about Lestat and Armand a lot and I've certainly spoken about that scene plenty, but I don't think I've broken down my various interpretations in post form before. I don't mind sharing but remember, you asked! ♥️

I have four basic interpretations, the first of which I use for meta purposes and the others for headcanons/fic as needed.

Interpretation 1: Armand does love Lestat the most. This is the canon read and the one I default to because it's quite literally in the text. I know with VC we tend to selectively 'read between the lines' (I'm guilty as hell), but there's also times where Anne meant exactly what she wrote and I do find it extremely consist with Armand's characterization up to this point.

I'm not saying it's necessarily a healthy love, or even a romantic one though! In my opinion, it's at least in part related to the fact that Lestat's almost always present when Armand's going through some of the most traumatic events in his life (neither of them exhibit anything close to a healthy attachment style). Because these are not two mutually exclusive things, I do tend to read them as having more of an all encompassing, soul-connection type of love. Both can be true.

From 'does anyone else know the size of your soul?' to 'in my wanderings, I always return to you' to 'I have loved you more than any being in all the world whom I’ve ever loved' -- Armand simply does not talk to or about anyone else like this in canon. The depth and intensity of Armand's love for Lestat has been a very persistent thread since TVL through to BC and it seems to be rooted in a genuine passion and appreciation for Lestat's character, flaws and all (because oh boy, can Armand list them all or what?).

I adore them as a ship, but this is not the scene in BC that has me kicking my little legs with glee (honestly, I find it tragic for all involved):

“Fool,” he said again. His voice was roughened now by emotion he couldn’t suppress. “I have always loved you,” he said. “I have loved you more than any being in all the world whom I’ve ever loved. I have loved you more than Louis. I have loved you more even than Marius. And you have never given me your love. I would be your most faithful counselor, if you allowed it. But you don’t. Your eyes pass over me as if I don’t exist. And so they always have.”

“I hate you as much as I have ever loved you,” he said. [...]. I understand the very definition of ‘hate’ when I think of you.” ~ Armand, BC

Like, it's heartbreaking! I don't want this like this! Your ask is related to Armand's POV and I've already posted at length how the text (and Anne) very clearly states that Lestat does, in fact, love Armand very much so I won't get into that further here, but... yeah, yikes. I want better for Armand, I want Louis. 🤧

I'm sad now.

Interpretation 2: Armand does not love Lestat more than Louis, Marius, (or Daniel). This seems to be the more popular read and I totally get why, and I can work with it in theory!

If Armand wanted to shock Lestat back to life and into reacting and doing something about the situation, throwing Louis's and Marius's names around seems like a decent bet. Loving Louis and Marius deeply is something that Lestat can understand, it's something he and Armand have in common; it's yet another thing that bonds them together for better or worse.

Daniel isn't anyone particularly special to Lestat, what would be the point in Armand bringing him up at a time like this? He's a cunning guy, he's choosing his words carefully.

Interpretation 3: Armand's straight up traumatized and broken thinking Marius and Louis are dead and gone, and he's desperately trying to cling to Lestat for dear life because he's the only one he has left (channel Anne and forget about Daniel for a second here). Unfortunately, all their issues that have been festering and compounding since 1791 rear their ugly head and explode rather spectacularly.

What you get is a combination of 'I love you more than anyone; I hate you more than anyone.'

RIP.

Interpretation 4: Armand loves Daniel most of all. And I think I typically tie it into the second one. Yes, Armand loves Daniel more than Lestat, Louis, and Marius. No, he's not going mention him to Lestat for reasons listed above and/or he's not going to downplay his love for Daniel like that. He's a gentleman!

Bonus Interpretation 5: Anne forgot Daniel, plain and simple; I waste years of my life.

All that being said, I don't think Armand walks around with a hierarchy in his head of everyone he loves. He obviously has an abundance of love to give and he loves so fiercely! Pick your read and run with it, I sure do ;)

[hellmastermiller]

I’m sorry about your mom. As far as coping goes, I’m pretty emotionally stunted but here’s some (admittedly quite common) stuff I use which you’ve probably heard of:

Make a checklist of things you should/could do in a day to keep yourself from skipping out. It’s easy to just sink into the floor and not do anything, and the checklist hold you slightly accountable. Start off with more easily attainable daily goals (ex. today I will clean my desk) and then begin to add some things (ex. today I will clean my desk + bed).

Talk to people: they say this one helps the most, and I’m sure you know this. Think about how you’d feel talking to a stranger in a support group V.S a friend. If it sounds more appealing, you can take a step toward finding a free group/one you can afford. Hell, if you post this ask giving me the green light, I could even DM you if you’d like. We’re mutuals but we’ve never directly spoken

Know that maybe even a year from now, the grief can hit you in an unexpected way, and that’ll be okay. A close family member of mine died about 10 years ago and sometimes I wind up feeling sick with how much I miss them. I don’t think the feeling ever leaves, you just learn to sort of… accept that it’s there and always will be

And as everyone always says, be nice to yourself. Have a sweet treat. Try to go on a short walk around your block. Seek new emotional experiences— maybe go see a movie you’re excited about or rewatch one that you love. Pick up a hobby you haven’t recently indulged in and try it out again.

Grief is weird, and it sucks. But it’s natural and it’s okay to always feel a little bit sad over losing someone. I wish you nothing but the best.

thank u so much. i'm emotionally stunted asf too so the last three months has been absolutely crazy LMAO. i'll dump more dramatic stuff under the cut so ppl don't have 2 listen to my whining

but thank you. this means a lot to me, i'll fucking print this out n glue it to my screen to force myself to remember. feel free to dm me if you want, but only if you want to; i'll probably just bitch and sob and whine a lot, so don't feel pressured at all. listening to someone go on and on can be so mentally draining, but your offer means the world to me. thank u <3

but yeah, i heard that grief is just forever. i guess it's like mental illness in a way. it never goes away, but you learn to cope. i hope you have people there for you when you miss your family member.

TW DEATH!!! TALKING ABT DEATH1!!! SOIRRY!!!!

i was the one who found my mom dead so i feel like that just added another layer 2 the insanity. i forced myself to see her a few times before the cremation too, hoping it'll make everything click, but it's that adhd "out of sight out of mind" type beat. it makes grief so stupidly hard.

i've been the glue keeping my dad n bro together too. i still remember being the one to clean her fluids from the wall and the carpet while they sobbed and it was so fucked up. answering questions from the cops and paramedics. dealing with funeral arrangements.

my father and i found a fucking dent in the wall from where her head hit too. it's the fucking outside wall too, so she hit her head on it so fucking hard that the plaster came off. it breaks my heart. we had such a difficult relationship too so it just makes everything all the more painful. the regret is so real.

i found so much out about her too after she'd died. so many little things i could've used to talk to her, to bond, to help her. drives me up the fuckin' wall, man. makes me fucking crash out.

and not to sound like an idiot, but one of my guinea pigs fucking DIED like a few weeks after her too and it actually broke me LMAO. my mom bought those pigs, so to lose one of them just fucking shattered me.

even worse is that his brother doesn't give a shit, so i have one guinea pig who is absolutely thriving because he gets the entire room to himself now. (for anyone who knows my guinea pigs, IT'S DAVID THAT DIED. ELI LIVED. rip solid snake :( )

[gloriousmonsters]

what is the new book concept?? (if you don’t mind sharing — but if you do mind it’s ok not to reply)

also what is that font you used btw? is there a full alphabet somewhere and if so would you mind sharing the link? i like that it’s a very understated gothic-looking serif. or very calligraphic looking i guess

sure thing!! with the understanding it's a lot more half-baked than most of the ideas I've been talking about, so i'm going to briefly walk you through the few ideas that went into it before explaining (also briefly) what it is so far, lol. Also, the font is Fondamento - it was one of the fonts available in Photopea (free online photoshop-like) which I used to make the cover, but it looks like it's also on Google Fonts. If you want to know how I did the bronze metallic-ink-ish look for the text I can expound on that as well, btw, or you can just enjoy the font :)

So I've been having a resurgence of my Tempest emotions

(for those who are unfamiliar. i would summarize it, but it would take a long time. just. find a summary and read it with a MASSIVE grain of salt that's labeled 'prospero is an asshole and nobody understands Caliban but tumblr user gloriousmonsters and the poet Robert Browning')

and this time reading it was especially having fun with the parallels between Caliban and Miranda's characters and also thinking about how EXTREMELY weird and screwed up their relationship would have been growing up.

Despite interpretations/stories based on it sometimes having it otherwise, in canon neither of them seem to have ever seen or spoken to Ariel (at least in capacity as A Person You Can Talk to; Caliban is more aware of the spirits Prospero commands in abstract, at least). Aside from Prospero, who is notoriously not good at being present for what he's supposed to be looking after, they are the only human being the other one knows. It's serving twisted Eden vibes. It's serving tmg's 'the last man on earth'. it's serving 'not that Prospero would have encouraged it, but to an extent they must have seen each other as family, right? especially in Miranda's case, considering she grew up her entire life with him. the psuedoincest is off the charts'. Then shit goes bad (in whatever way you want to interpret) and now suddenly they're in a place of seeing each other daily, because Caliban does literally everything around the place, but having an uncrossable rift of mutual hurt and betrayal between them* that has little choice but to curdle and get worse because neither of them can do anything to change their situation. Depending on how lines are assigned, they never speak to each other in the play. And they have nobody else to talk to save for cursing out Prospero (Caliban) or trying to get in two words between Prospero's monologues (Miranda). And then the play events happen and they just part ways because Prospero has decided it, after probably expecting they'd be stuck in this forever. And then the next-to-only person you've ever known is on a different landmass and you're probably never going to see them again. it's So fucked.

Anyway I was revolving all of that with quiet awe in my head, and going 'man, I want to write a fucked up Caliban/Miranda book, but I don't have a non-play plot and I don't want to just write a prequel'

Then I encountered Caliban upon Setebos for the first time, and despite the fact i could still nitpick some things it slaps insanely. Only good Tempest fanfiction. It's a long poem consisting of Caliban theorizing about Setebos--a god his mother supposedly got her witch powers from, but that Caliban knows very little about. He theorizes that Setebos is either indifferent or malignant or both--impossible to predict, driven by whim. The only other divine force is 'the Quiet', an even more inhuman and incomprehensible force that doesn't do anything at all; cosmology is cruel, the world a sandbox under the eye of a god with as many arms as a cuttlefish, capricious and sadistic, whom we can only hope will someday grow decrepit and sleep, which is the closest to it being dead we can pray for--

It was about this point I realized Caliban/Browning was inventing the Lovecraft mythos 50ish years ahead of schedule, and got hit by the lightning bolt of 'PUT ELDRITCH BEINGS IN IT' and, five seconds later 'CALIBAN DESERVES TO BE A MAGICIAN' and five seconds after that 'miranda deserves to break out of being her father's Perfect child, let's set it in the future and kill Prospero off'

So Bitter Heart (taken from a line in the poem, 'Caliban/a bitter heart that bides its time') is conceptually a dual perspective novella/short novel focused on how about nine years after the conclusion of The Tempest, Miranda (unmarried, I'll handwave it; Ferdinand bores me so much sorry dude) finds her father dead and surrounded by rambling half-incomprehensible notes, remnants of a type of magic that's far different from his old ways, and a creeping sense of Wrongness that begins to slowly manifest in distortion, mutation and decay of elements of reality. People search for solutions while Miranda tries to find the source of the bizarre power in her father's notes and what hidden books she can unearth from his study, but she hasn't made it very far before a man comes to Milan at the behest of someone who's decided we should throw magic at the magic problem--a man she's heard rumors of as the hot new 'guy you keep in your court for a bit to show him off at parties because he's learned and also Moorish or something, he has this crazy backstory that's probably fake but is a lot of fun, also he does magic probably' in other cities, but never met.

A man who, when they meet face to face, turns out to be Caliban, who after about a year of 'finally peace and quiet' realized that living completely alone on an island was going to drive him insane and also he still really wanted revenge on Prospero (and had a lot of ambiguous ideas about what he wanted from Miranda) so he scraped together what Prospero had left behind and taught himself magic for the next few years until he could figure out a way off the island. He's extremely annoyed that after that, and after spending more years building himself up and finding his footing in the outside world, Prospero had the nerve to die RIGHT before he showed up, even if he wasn't promised a reward if he can stop people's arms from turning into fishes and shit he'd find out what did it so he can give it a piece of his mind. Miranda understandably never planned for this scenario and has a really hard time knowing what to feel about it, but she and Caliban form a tentative truce in order to try and figure out wtf Prospero was doing before he croaked.

There'll be intercut flashbacks to their past and the time they spent becoming incredibly codependent and eventually tipping into confused romantic attraction and sexual experimentation, which both of them have tried very hard to convince themselves was a bad idea for one reason or another, it clearly wasn't and will never be good for them, etc; and of course in present day they both immediately resume having bitter gothic sexual tension and trying to ignore the instinct that, now they've met each other again, they're the only two real people in a world of dreams and spirits.

Also they have to find the entrance to an eldritch realm and figure out what's coming through and how to stop it, and have a lot of insanely weird and pretentious thoughts/conversations about God and sin and abuse and vengeance/hatred and so on. So that's the mess Bitter Heart is at the moment :P

*ymmv may vary on how justified on either side depending on the situation, obviously

[pearl-tarotist]

✦···•𝐀 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 <𝟑 •···✦

These past months I have not been active on Tumblr but I still think about all the people that I have met in here so this is a "thank you" and a recommendation to follow these amazing people and blogs! (due to my lack of interaction with any of them, sorry!)

If I have interacted with you before but I have not tagged you, it literally means nothing, I do remember all the sweet messages I have received from all of you and for that I am always thankful! <3.

@yoursinfinitely : She's one of the most friendly, talented and mature people that I have met in Tumblr. She trusted me a lot and I am always thankful for it! She's in hiatus right now but her PACs are still on her page. Thank you a lot for trusting and interacting with me! <3.

@daarlingdatura /@eswhoreteric : We have not talked a lot but I can always see how strong and decided she is for what's rightfully hers. She takes no bullshit and that's something I strongly appreciate. ALSO, she has so so much knowledge about, just not tarot, but spirituality, shadow work, astrology, spells... So complete! <3. Thanks for your putting your knowledge and presence in Tumblr!

@amourdivine : Such a positive and sweet soul!!! Every time I see her on my feed I get happy! I did an exchange tarot with her and it was so accurate!!! From that point on I could appreciate even better how much work she puts on her words and in how serious she takes responsibilities that affects others. Thanks for wanting to do the exchange and for how sweet your words have always been for me! <3.

@royaleofury : One of the first persons I interacted with and also one of the sweetest! She's amazing in whatever she does and I do feel like her astrology observations and analysis are the best. Thanks for being mutuals with me, literally since day one! <3. I do really hope everything is okay and perfect for you.

@whatudowhennooneseesyou : Also, one of the first people I interacted with. She trusted me so hard, not just once but a lot of more times that I will always be thankful for it. We share love for the same books and our literary taste is so similar that it's amazing. Thank you for being there since day one too <3<3<3.

@theveil-and-thepath: The WAY THIS GIRL DOES TAROT is so gooood! She's so clever with everything she does and the times I have spoken with her I have loved so much the way she express herself, like, she's straight up the best lawyer ever, 100% would trust her to defend me. She's also the sweetest and so interesting!! Thank you for trusting me with tarot and for the conversations we had about law, I still think about them and I love them. <3.

@daninixx : I do not think at all that's she's unknown for anybody in the tarot community but still, she deserves the recognition. She's always so patient with me, even though we don't interact that much I know she's tired of me not answering anything she sends. Or she could not even remember (I am a mess, sorry 😭). She has always had nice word for me through asks, she's generous and gentle so I am thankful a lot for it. Also? HER PACSSSSS??? 10 out of 10. Amazing and dovelike. Her love for Lana del Rey is something that makes me like her even more! <3<3<3.

@the-cosmic-gentle-giant : Such a sweet soul too! He deserves the best. He has great post about astrology and anytime we have interacted, even if it was the smallest interaction ever, he has been nothing but friendly and sweet to me. I hope everything goes well for you and that you can smile every day. Please take care and thank you for being like you are <3.

@the-wild-candy : she's so talented and she is so connected to the spiritual word. She canalises messages so instantly and in such a deep way... She's amazing for how young she is, it was a pleasure to speak with her, she has so much to show to the world. I do, honestly, hope everything's okay for you and that you can always express yourself freely and without any obstacle.

@nep2unes : Such an amazing tarot reader, honestly, one of the best for me. Seriously, I have done private tarots with her and the way she focus so much on details and the way she does also get so much information will never stop surprising me. She gets everything: small direct quotes, the feelings, the music, the signs...She's amazing, spectacular and ugh! Amazingx100. She writes everything she gets. Thanks for your exchange tarots with me!

@neptunes-sol-angel : So, so but so nice and beautiful! I do love her music recommendations and her vibes in general. The music she puts in her blog, the way she does tarot and her nature... She gives mature/womanly vibes... She's an adult and I feel that she has insight in topics that you could NEVER speak with teenagers. It's such a liberating energy! Thanks for your music and for interacting with me! <3<3<3.

@nighttimeoracle : The most beautiful hispanic tarot reader I have ever found. Thank you for your beautiful words, your Pacs and for being on Tumblr!! You do have amazing ideas <3.<3.

@iams99 : A sweet sweet soul. I do hope that nothing will hurt you. Amazing tarot reader and for what I have been able to know of you, you are a child of the sea, refreshing and so necessary! I do love her imagination and creativity. Thank you!

@ellmeria : We have not interacted that much but her words do always bring a smile to my lips. Thank you for just being you! You have the gentlest aura <3.

@forallthetheoi: Thanks for your knowledge of the Gods. Your connection with them is so strong and amazing and I loved to do an exchange tarot with you!

@alaezasmystery : You have checked on me and tried to make me keep my energy more than once and for that I am always thankful!! <3<3.

[maryamsweb]

HOLY GROUND, miles morales

"like a girl in a brand new dress

we had this big wide city all to ourselves

we blocked the noise with the sound of 'i need you'

and for the first time I had something to lose"

pairing: felicia hardy × miles morales

1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7.

felicia hardy found herself standing in mary jane's home, having snuck in through the window with a mix of curiosity and trepidation. she cautiously stepped into the living room, her eyes scanning the surroundings. as she looked around, her gaze fell upon a picture frame on a nearby table. she picked it up and saw a photograph of peter parker and mary jane, their smiles capturing a moment of joy and love.

just as felicia was lost in her thoughts, mary jane unexpectedly walked into the room and spotted the intruder. their eyes met, and there was a brief moment of silence before felicia mustered the courage to speak.

"hi," felicia said softly, placing the picture frame back on the table. "i'm felicia hardy. i'm not sure if he ever mentioned me, but—"

mary jane interrupted her, a warm smile forming on her face. "felicia, yeah, he did mention you. a lot, actually," she said, her voice filled with a mix of sadness and affection.

both women shared a mutual understanding, the connection between them growing in that moment. felicia felt a wave of relief wash over her, knowing that peter had spoken about her to the woman he loved so deeply.

as tears welled up in felicia's eyes, she whispered, "his death... it was my fault."

mary jane immediately stopped her, her voice filled with reassurance. "no, felicia. peter never did anything he didn't want to do. he made his own choices, and he chose to be a hero. it wasn't your fault."

felicia struggled to hold back her emotions, her voice trembling as she responded, "but he didn't want to die."

mary jane took a step closer, gently reaching out and taking felicia's hands in hers. their eyes met once again, and there was a profound understanding between them. "you're a good person, felicia. he cared about you so much. we never got around to having kids, but if we did, i'm sure he would've wanted them to be like you."

felicia's tears began to flow freely now, her emotions overwhelming her. a small sob escaped her throat as she embraced mary jane, seeking solace and forgiveness. the two women held each other tightly, their shared grief and love for peter forging an unexpected bond.

miles stood at the edge of the rooftop, watching felicia as she walked along the narrow ledge. he took a deep breath, gathering his courage before calling out to her.

"you disappeared after the battle. you do that a lot," miles said, his voice filled with a mix of concern and frustration.

felicia glanced back at him, her eyes narrowing slightly. "why are you here, red?" she asked, her tone guarded.

miles took a step forward. "i just wanted to talk to you," he replied, his voice gentle.

felicia scoffed, her lips curling into a smirk. "if you want to talk to me, you have to come up here," she challenged, her words laced with a hint of playfulness.

miles hesitated for a moment, considering his options. finally, he made his way to the edge of the roof and joined felicia, balancing carefully on the narrow ledge beside her.

"i don't see you differently, you know," miles began, his voice earnest.

felicia hummed, her eyes fixed on the cityscape before them. miles pressed on, his words filled with conviction.

"what you did—"

felicia cut him off, her voice firm. "i did what i always do: what i had to. no matter who it hurts."

miles looked at her, his gaze steady and unwavering. "felicia, you're a hero," he said, his words carrying a weight of truth.

she shook her head, a bitter smile forming on her lips. "i'm no hero. i'm a thief. born a thief, raised a thief. die a thief."

miles smiled softly, reaching out to gently touch her arm. "maybe i can change that," he offered, his voice filled with hope.

there was a comforting silence between them, the night air whispering around them. felicia finally broke the stillness, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness.

"i'm gonna be gone for a while. visiting my dad," she revealed.

miles looked visibly saddened. "how long is a while?" he asked, his concern evident.

felicia smirked, stepping closer to him, her gaze fixed on his eyes. "why? you gonna miss me?" she teased, her voice laced with a mix of playfulness and vulnerability.

miles felt his heart skip a beat, his breath caught in his chest. he stammered, "what if i said i would?"

felicia smiled at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of warmth and mischief. she placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss on his cheek. miles was left stunned, his mind racing, and his heart pounding.

"i'll see you around, spider," she whispered, her voice carrying a hint of longing.

and with that, felicia leaped off the building, leaving miles standing there in a state of shock and disbelief.

"oh my god... oh my god... oh my god," he muttered to himself, his mind buzzing with a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts.

felicia sat on the train, her mind consumed with thoughts of miles. as the train rattled along the tracks, she couldn't shake off the worry that clung to her heart. she knew deep down that she would see him again, but the fear of losing someone else weighed heavily on her.

her mind kept replaying their encounters, his words echoing in her ears. as she reached into her pocket, her fingers brushed her latest theft. she had taken miles' phone and headphones with her.

a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she looked at the device. she couldn't help but recall the song he couldn't stop singing, the one that seemed to follow him wherever he went. curiosity got the best of her, and she decided to indulge in a moment of connection with him, even in his absence.

carefully, she plugged in the headphones and unlocked his phone. scrolling through the playlist, she found the song he held dear. as the first notes filled her ears, she closed her eyes and let the music wash over her.

the familiar tune enveloped her, and in that moment, she felt an invisible thread connecting her to miles. she could almost hear his voice singing along, his enthusiasm and joy seeping through the melodies. the song became a bridge between their worlds, allowing her to experience a piece of him when he couldn't be there.

and as the song came to an end, she carefully unplugged the headphones, returning the phone to her pocket. the melodies lingered in her mind, a reminder of the moments they had shared.

in that train compartment, felicia found solace in the music and the connection it brought. It fueled her resolve and kept the flame of hope alive. and as she looked out the window, she knew that their paths were bound to intersect once more, and she eagerly awaited that day.

[fractured-shield]

OC questionnaire tag game

thanks so much for the tag @just-emis-blog!! answering on my sideblog instead of my main though

I'm gonna be answering for both my protagonist (Therien) and deuteragonist/her dad (Idhren)

1. Do you have any siblings? If so, how is your relationship with them?

Therien: "Nope, just me. ...Although I guess Oenith almost counts, maybe? We lived together for a few years, and we've known each other forever. I...think I have a pretty good relationship with her? Um, better than I used to, at least. We argued a lot in our teens. No hard feelings, I was sort of stupid about it."

Idhren: "I've a younger brother and an older sister, but I’m afraid it's been ages since we've spoken. I imagine they grieved my supposed death when my companions and I were lost. I'll admit it's cowardice, but to return home... They shouldn't forgive me for being the only one left, I think. Ah, my apologies, I didn't mean to give so bleak an answer as that."

2. If you could only eat one cuisine for the rest of your life, what would it be?

Therien: "Oh, gods, that's a hard question. I really liked the food in Durnthain. They have sweetbreads made with honey, and we can't get honey like that in Tarnuvin, there's different plants in Durnthain that their bees collect from, and—sorry, sorry, that's not the point. The food in Tarnuvin is good too: tastes like home, you know? And— ...I don't know if I can pick just one, sorry."

Idhren: "Hm... I'm afraid I don't have very interesting opinions about such things. ...The food in Nar-thelyr was wonderful, though. There wasn't much that grew near the mountain fortress, but supplies were brought in from all corners of the Alliance, when the war-council was in session. The spiced teas from Ngelorim were always welcome in meetings late at night, since the great-hall was always so cold."

3. What's the most adventurous thing you ever done?

Therien: "Huh. Might have been when I accepted being a messenger back to Rhorn at the war's beginning, I think? Gods, I was terrified. And I didn't even know the half of it back then, did I? I think I was more scared of making a fool of myself than anything. But I'm glad I went. It was the first time I really felt like I was getting anywhere, if that makes sense? The first time I didn’t feel so damn stuck. So of course I went. I’d never been that afraid before, I’d never traveled alone or anything. It seems so silly now, though."

Idhren: "I was hardly adventurous, even when I was young. Courting Leithe, I think. We'd been friends for so long, and we were only just sorting out our mutual feelings around the time Maithyr died. Being with Maithyr was...an adventure, to be sure, but...he'd wanted something less serious than I did. Leithe was so cheerful and headstrong—she helped with the peace treaty in Ilgost, you know. Gods, I miss her. They were both very dear to me."

Not sure who to tag that hasn’t already been tagged by someone, but if you see this, feel free to go for it!

Your questions are:

1. If you’re aware of how you’re commonly perceived by people, what’s one thing they usually get wrong about you?

2. What sort of clothes do you feel most comfortable in, and why do dress the way you do?

3. What’s one of your biggest regrets, and what’s one of the most life-changing experiences you don’t regret?