#finding ways to make old wips with good bones fun and interesting again

[raphaerolo]

What if a Jedi's eyes glowed to match their lightsaber tho

[punemy-spotted]

The Price You Pay

Pairing: Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Non-con/Dub-con, mentions of murder, unclear timeline, blackmail, unprotected sex, fingering (F!receiving), smut, esoteric references to past abuse, manipulation, Dark!Fic

Words: 5.2k (holy fuck?)

Summary: You need his help. He names his price.

Notes: This is for @stargazingfangirl18 and her incredible 5K Soft!Dark Challenge and I can't believe I wrote over 5k words for a oneshot, making this the longest piece I've ever written. I took a blend of prompts: Mob!AU; “When I woke up this morning, I certainly didn’t think my day would end like this;” and “That’s a big favor you’re asking for, I think you need to make it worth my while.”

And this was intended to be a oneshot but now I can't stop thinking about it so thanks Siri, I think this is now a part of my WIPs too! Your work is amazing and I had a blast being able to take part in this!

As usual, my work is 18+ ONLY, Minors DO NOT INTERACT

You went to him first.

You went to him, handed them your business card and I want to speak to Steve Rogers.

Honestly they almost threw you out with an extra hole in your head but then the man of the hour walked right in.

So now you’re here. Now you’re here, sitting across a gorgeous dining table with a ten-course meal laid out and honestly you’re surprised they didn’t tie your wrists to the arms of the chair while you watch him eat and take in the look of those baby blue eyes scanning you over.

He even brought you non-alcoholic rosé, when you said you didn’t drink.

So.

So.

You wanted to talk to me?

Yeah, I do. Thought you’d just sit me in your office, have a consultation.

I like breaking bread with new friends. Have a nice dinner, get the wine flowing — of course, that’s not gonna loosen your tongue, but we’ll forgive it.

Oh. Cool, I like being forgiven.

He laughs at that one and the room, strumming with tension, snaps into amusement. So do you, cracking a half smile on dark red lips, before swallowing down the lump of anxiety threatening to break through and destroy everything. You need this. You need this and you can’t let anything — not your nervousness, not your morals, not him — stop you. You need this and it needs to be done and if this is what justice is in this fucking city then so be it.

Well, sweetness, you’ve got my attention. You want to talk business or pleasure?

That one makes you laugh, a little sharp and a little cruel, and the curling smirk on his face gets a little furrowed because he hears it too — pain.

It could be both, you say finally, picking up the glass of rosé-that-wasn’t, if your reputation is as real as they say it is.

He lifts a bite of cheesecake into his mouth and lets it melt on his tongue while he watches you, somewhere between impressed and incensed. You know the look — you saw it the last time he met you in court, but you weren’t there as allies then. Never thought you’d come to me, he admits finally, sounding halfway bemused at the idea, but you’re full of surprises, aren’t you, Counsel?

You wince, or maybe smirk, eyes on the man before you.

It’s a game, a dance, a ruse, and the woman you thought you were thirteen months ago when you put four of Steve Rogers’s best men in jail for fifteen years — fifteen years longer than any District Attorney had ever managed to do before you, and you were just the rookie they handed a shit case to — is leagues different from the woman you are now, seated prim and proper in the lion’s den.

You’re not innocent. That’s not been your game for years — this life doesn’t leave room for innocence, it tears at you, leaves you tired and broken and ill.

Your colleagues learned to fear him a long time ago, the man before you. Captain America, leading the city, the country, the world into a new era of high tech crime all under his thumb. It’s a pretty shiny shield, the one that sits behind him, but mirrors are black on the other side and his soul is dark as coal.

You’re not an angel yourself, and this deal with the Devil isn’t for anyone but you.

I need someone taken care of.

So you come to me? I thought you were a lady of morals, Counsel.

Certain kinds of morals.

You can see him smile, see the way he raises his glass, the glimmer of malice and amusement in his eyes. So tell me. What’s the name?

You give it.

He’s not in the city, your target, but he will be. A Judge, an activist, real tough-on-crime-sweet-on-justice type of shit. You don’t tell him the reasons why, because those are yours, but you tell him the name. You tell him he’s a problem, you tell him he’s dangerous, you tell him you’ll pay to have him taken care of, you tell him you don’t want to practice in front of that black, black robe.

And he smiles like the Devil he is, watches you with a grin and drinks his whiskey in one last shot before slamming it down, Real woman of the law, aren’t you?

You said that when we met the first time.

He’s a hunter, you can see it in his eyes. That lion’s mane might be tamed right now but it won’t be for long and you’re playing with wild animals. The eyes on you are ice and daggers, daring you to do the one thing everyone in the office has been begging you not to do.

(Drop the charges, Rookie, the case is just to get your face in front of the judge.)

You upped the charges.

(Rookie, you don’t know what you’re dealing with, there’s other cases.)

You subpoenaed his phone records.

(Rookie, don’t make me drag you off this case!)

You won.

You had no witnesses and a jury you had to drag in from god-knows-where after you proved, over and over again, that he’d paid off the cohort in the courtroom. Finding people with nothing to lose and a desire to do their civic duty wasn’t harder than you thought — it was exactly as impossible as you expected.

But you did it.

That’s what you do, isn’t it? Push and push and fight, claw your fingers at the ledge and pull yourself up, you pay for your crimes in your blood, sweat and tears you pay for the things you could have done then and didn’tdo.

You pay.

And sometimes, that payment bounces back.

And when it was all said and done, when the closing statements were delivered, when the Jury came back out and the Judge — hands shaking, mouth agape, eyes wide — read out the verdict no one expected, you… didn’t feel any better, did you? There was no justice for you in that room, just the searing glare of ice-blue eyes and the burning of your steel spine.

Real woman of the law, aren’t you?

First words he said to you, while the courtroom emptied out and you stood there, facing the man you’d just made an enemy of with your briefcase in your hand and your eyes aflame.

I did my job.

Did you? Is that what you think your job is?

My job is justice, unflinching and blind, Mr. Rogers. I don’t care how much power you have or how afraid you leave this city, I’m going to do my job.

You could always let justice turn a blind eye.

Yeah. I could, but that wouldn’t make this any fun, would it? Thank you for the win, Mr. Rogers — I’m sure I won’t get many more.

You leave him with a smile on his face and the scent of your perfume in his memories.

He leaves you with the pride of victory in your bones and a reminder that your strife could be worth it.

One day.

How do you plan to fill that pit, the one you tossed the corpses of your old self into? The one you let them claw up out of, to haunt you? Remind you?

You’re digging your own grave and you know it, but you won’t let Steven Grant Rogers be the first one to toss a handful of dirt over your corpse.

But now here you are.

In his dining room, enjoying dessert and some sort of after-meal coffee. In need of him…

This might almost have been a date, if not for the topic of conversation.

So. You want a Judge taken out. What if he’s already on my payroll?

Why would you keep a dead man in your pocket?

You like the sound of his laugh, and you don’t even have the excuse of wine to fall back on when it warms your core. Don’t admit it though, don’t say it aloud, don’t let him get an in. Be smart, cross your legs tighter, keep your eyes on the prize.

You’re so close to the finish line.

That’s a big favor you’re asking for, Counsel, I think you need to make it worth my while.

Worth your while?

I’m not a charity. And since you put the guy I usually use to handle these things behind bars for a few years—

You know I can get him out too.

That’s not payment, that’s putting things right.

You take a drink. Steady on, girl.

I’m leaving the DA’s office.

That stops him.

Oh that stops him good, and he looks fascinated. Interested. You’ve said something he can use as leverage and it’s not just about a job. That smirk on his face is smug and his eyes are darker and he has to know the impact that look has.

Can’t falter, don’t falter, don’t give in.

Am I allowed to ask why?

No.

You’ve done your research. You just don’t know why you’re thinking about it now. Steven Grant Rogers, “Captain America,” leader of a crime family that had too many names to stamp out, bolstered by a mad scientist, a military man through-and-through who turned New York into his own private base against whatever stood against his way.

Get in his good graces and you’re set for life. Get in his good graces and you’re safe, you’re protected, you’re good.

Get on his bad side and you only make that mistake once.

There are no second chances in this game, and here you are, asking for one.

So what? You leave the DA’s office, you leave yourself open to me — you think leaving New York is going to be the thing that stops me, Counsel?

No.

Then what?

Breathe. Steady.

I know you gave me that win on purpose — you could have taken out my last jury cohort. This isn’t about the four men… and you know I’ll get them out. This is something else, but I’m not here to ask about what or why.

He falters just briefly, like he’s surprised you knew, but the crack in his mask smooths itself over as soon as it forms and he’s back to watching you, nodding along in silence while you breathe and watch him and keep talking.

But even then. I got four of your guys in prison. And I know how your organization works — I subpoenaed the documents, remember? Your lawyers are good, but they’re not used to people asking the right questions. You want someone to seal up the cracks you need someone who actually knows what to look for.

You have more than his attention, you have his interest, and now he’s leaning in a little. Imperceptibly, but enough. Scanning over you from across the table, like he’s thinking how you managed to get so impertinent in the face of the likes of him but that’s the thing — when the only thing you have left to lose is your life, you’ll risk everything.

So what are you offering?

Breathe. Don’t. Stammer.

Myself.

The chair scrapes and suddenly there’s the clicking of guns, aimed and ready until his hand rises up and he stops them and he’s stalking towards you.

This is the lion’s den, sweetness.

The stakes are higher and you ought to be braver and he’s got your chin in his hand before you have a chance to react, dragging you to your feet. Do you know what you’re offering me, Counsel? Low and hissed and hungry, like those perfect teeth might be sinking into your throat in the next moment.

Oh, you have no idea.

You get me. On your payroll — you know. The offer you sent me a year ago.

You think it’s still open?

If it wasn’t, you wouldn’t have met with me.

The chuckle in your face makes your cheeks warm and you’re looking more flushed than you would like, the open shoulders of your dress suddenly feeling a lot more like a mistake the more you realize just what kind of meal he might make out of you tonight.

We might need to have a discussion about your workplace duties, Counsel.

You don’t notice the hand near your thigh until it’s too late, sliding up the soft fabric of your skirt until it’s squeezing your ass, until it’s jerking you towards him, until you’re pressed against his chest and the hand on your chin is now hooked around the back of your neck, thumb pushing your jaw until you’re forced to look at him. Won’t lie, when I woke up this morning, I certainly didn’t think my day would end like this, having your pretty little body in my arms,and you can look as indignant as you want but he’s got the upper hand and you only thought you were two steps ahead of him.

You think I haven’t thought about what it’d be like to put you in your place, Counsel? You’ve got a smart mouth — I wanna know what else it can do.

He doesn’t give you a chance to use that mouth to lash at him, lips sliding over yours, swallowing that indignant yelp with a punishing kiss. Nipping at the plushness of your lower lip until you open your mouth and yield to him with a sigh of reluctant surrender, let his tongue slide past that barrier for him to explore. He’s got his fingers wound through your hair, just a little too tight and whether the whimper in your chest is because of the pain or because of the want, he doesn’t care.

Knew you’d be sweet, Counsel… softly, when he pulls back to look at you, take a look at those love-swollen lips and your ruined lipstick, the pretty way you pant at him already, the heat burning your cheeks. Pay no attention to the slick warmth between your thighs, pay no attention to the way he makes you burn already, pay no attention to how your fingers have curled into the lapel of his coat to hold yourself steady, pay no attention to how you suddenly miss the pressure of his lips.

All that smart-talk and now you’re quiet, Counsel? F’I knew it just took a kiss to get you to shut up, I would’ve done that at trial, he’s purring in your ear, soft and sweet and you should push at his chest, so uncurl your fingers girl and push.

I didn’t say I was selling my body, there’s your harshness, and there he is, laughing at you again, the grip on your hair jerking your head back until you’re looking into those dagger-cold eyes again.

You don’t make the rules here, Counsel, I do, and you need me more than I need you. So if you want to make sure your Judge can’t start wreaking havoc on your career… you might want to get used to readjusting it for me. I promise I’ll make you feel nice, if you let me…

And if I don’t?

Then I take what I want and I don’t feel bad for not holding up my end of the bargain. Your choice, Counsel, you cum willingly and I’ll give you everything you want. Don’t, and it’ll hurt you more than it hurts me.

That’s not a threat, that’s a promise, and suddenly you’re more scared than you ever thought you’d be, wondering if you’ll need to sell another part of your soul to take him down after. How much of yourself will you put up as collateral to get justice for the wrongs you were never able to correct?

You’re afraid.

Oh sweetness, you’re afraid.

Here? Now?

No, Counsel, we’re gonna do this right, aren’t we? You wanna be in bed with me, I’ll take you to bed with me. Come on, say it. Say the word.

Say no. Say no, rail and fight, stamp your heels into the expensive leather of his shoes, jam your knee into the sensitive between his legs, scream and yell and tell him you will never let another man take advantage of you again to help you reach your goals. Do it. Do the thing you swore you would do the next time a man like him — men who think they can take anything from anyone, men who think they own the world and the women in it, men who think you aren’t strong enough to fight back — propositioned you just like this.

You’re selling your soul to get rid of a man just like this.

But that’s coiling heat in your core that wasn’t there the last time, was it? That’s want. That’s the realization that you like the way this predatory smile feels, that you like the way this one wants you. You’re not her, not scared and alone and helpless. You could fight back and run and maybe escape if you were lucky.

You could choose.

He’s let go of your hair to stroke your cheek with the backs of his fingers, soft and sweet, You gonna give me an answer, Counsel, or am I gonna have to take it?

Say something. Say no. Scream. Say no say no say no say— Yes.

It’s a whisper. A desperate, soft whisper. A helpless, lonely whisper. It’s enough.

He sweeps you around until you’re pressed with your back against his unyielding chest, feeling him flex with every movement, broad arm wrapped around your shoulders from the front. All of you are dismissed, and that’s when you remember there were others in the room with you. Others who just watched you concede to becoming Captain America’s newest plaything and the burn on your cheeks is more shame than lust. You pull at his arm briefly, futilely, earning a tighter hold for your efforts and a whispered don’t make me choke you, before you are half-walked, half-dragged out of the dining room.

The walk to his room is slow and agonizing as you’re pulled along, barely struggling but barely helping at the same time, tears sliding down your cheeks as you come to terms with what’s going to happen next — no one is going to save you tonight, no one’s going to interrupt and drag you out, this is your job and this is your place and here you are.

No one speaks. There’s no sound but the steady tap of your heels and his shoes on fine marble. Even your sobs are silent, even your breathing is muffled, until the stairs are traversed and the faintest click of a lock turning opens the door to the rest of your life.

You made a deal.

Time to pay.

Sit on the bed.

You move as if in a trance, and he watches your face, the hint of waterproof mascara failing to do its job, the smudged ruby red of your lipstick. Don’t give me that look, you knew what you were signing up for when you walked into this house, Counsel.

His hands are gentler than you’d expect, when he wipes away the streaks your tears leave down your pretty cheeks, coaxing you to look up at him, We’ll set ground rules later. Tonight? I wanna see if I can get that mouth of yours to beg for me.

It won’t, you snap without thinking, knifeblade sharp and cruel, ready for a fight again. He promised you that once, in a hiss you thought you’d misheard but no, you heard him just fine and now if he thinks he can quench your fire and have you pleading just because you sold your body for the prospect of revenge then he’s wrong.

Thing is, he laughs like that’s a challenge, and the hand holding your chin so gently is wrapped around your throat before you know it, silencing your voice with just the right application of pressure. I can do this all night, Counsel. Do you think you can last that long?

Fear. Anger. Indignation. You are fury made flesh and he is manipulating you with just the barest press of his palm and sliding over you, until you’re laid out there on soft sheets and he’s looming over you, splaying that big hand out and sliding it down your throat, over your chest, feeling the ruching of the fabric under his palm. You wrapped yourself up like a present for me, didn’t you sweetness?

The change in nickname isn’t lost on you but here you are, glaring up at him while he smiles so beatifically it leaves your blood boiling and your skin steadily warming. The rise and fall of your chest is hypnotic, every angry breath a swear you don’t utter, every inhale your protests dying in your throat. What can you say, what would you say, right now? There’s nothing that can change the way he looks at you, or the way his eyes flicker from ice to blue fire the more he takes stock of the pretty little thing he’s about to start sharing his bed with.

Fuck, you’re beautiful, that one shocks you, but not as much as the sudden rush of cold air when he tears the emerald green fabric of your dress down and reveals the soft swells of your breasts, nipples peaked from the sudden cold.

You don’t get much time to gasp, just something soft and strangled before he turns your voice to whimpers, wrapping lips around that pebbled tip and laving his tongue over sensitive flesh. Where are your words now, Counsel, while he threatens the softness of your chest with the scrape of his teeth, when he slides his hands over the round curve of your thighs and parts your legs so he can press himself between them, so he can press himselfagainst you? Where is the knife-dagger of your wit to protest each soft, suckling kiss to your skin, each press of his fingers like he could just squeeze his ownership of you into the plushness of your hips, into the sweet swell of your ass? What do you say to the dirty little thrust of his hips as he bucks with his own burning need, reminding you just how much this is for hispleasure as he will make it for yours.

You would, could, should push him off and instead what are you doing? Curling your fingers into the silk-smooth of his comforter, desperate to writhe out of your own skin away from the burning pressure between your thighs, the foreign, unfamiliar heat you suddenly feel like you might be craving.

Anyone ever touch you like this before me, Counsel?Warm breath splays across your skin when he questions you, eyes fixed on yours and he waits. Answer him, answer him, tell him he’s nothing, tell him you’ve had better, lie and destroy that ego, lie lie lie lie—

Nnnh—no.

He looks like you’ve just told him the best news of his life, eyes wide and blown with lust, Oh is that right? You’re saying no one’s ever touched you this good? Or just no one’s ever touched you at all?

You don’t have to answer. The furious blush on your cheeks? The way your eyes slide away from his? The way you writhe, trying to press your thighs together to relieve the pressure and finding the effort futile? If the man’s grin could get any wider, it would, right now. Oh sweetness, we’re going to have so much fun exploring your body together…

He pulls back just enough to take a look at you, already flushed and writhing and overwhelmed and if he could take a picture of this right now he would. He’ll save that for later though. Tonight? Tonight is just the two of you, and his hands are back to your skirt, pushing the tight fabric up over your round hips and revealing the lace of your panties… just before he rips them off, to the sound of your indignant yelp Steve!

You’re going to call me Captain, sweetness, we’re not close enough to use my name just yet.

No. No you’re not, and he’s not sure you’ll ever be — he rather likes the idea of hearing you whimper out his title when he gets you desperate and wanting.

He touches, slow and steady, watching you try to jerk away and tutting at you when you do, fingers at your delicate nerves like an assault on your pleasure. Bite your lip, bite back the moans, whine at him like he’s wounded you, You’re so wet, sweetness, you’re so desperate for me aren’t you, as he palms his cock to relieve the pressure on himself. You’re going to beg before he does and he’s patient, he’ll last the night.

St-stop it, it’s too— he shushes you ahtahtaht and rests his free hand on your mound, holding you down so his probing, inspecting fingers can take stock of the velveteen plushness of your delicate cunt. It’s too much, too much and you want to scream the moment he presses one finger into you, already overwhelmed, already so tightly wound the barest touches are unraveling you steadily.

You’re such a pretty thing, all desperate and needy, sweetness. You wanna cum already, don’t you? So busy, never gave anyone the chance to fuck that stuck-up bitch right out of you, did they? It’s almost pitying, isn’t it, the way he talks, hums at you while you’re reduced to a whining, whimpering mess so soon, so desperate for the release he’s on the edge of denying you, feeling you flexing around his finger and then the second leaping jolt of your body when another joins the inspection. Taking careful stock of the pretty cunt he owns now, and he’s careful to curl his fingers just right as he seeks the spot to hammer just to get you to scream.

You don’t, not yet, but that’s okay too, because he sees the way you take desperate hold of the sheets, the way your eyes roll backwards just slightly, the way you strain against his heavy hand to arch your back. Gotta tell you, sweetness, I imagined you under me a thousand and one ways but this one, right now? Tops the list. You ready to beg for me?

Do it. Do it and end your pleasurable torment. Do it and be released from the pressure, the coiling want. Surrender to him. Let him have you.

The white hot rush of your orgasm is not unexpected to him, his curling, cruel fingers having found the sweetness of your g-spot, but — you, too busy climbing the ranks to think of your own pleasure, too busy demanding your due from an unjust world explore your own warmth beyond that of a memory of a college hookup you would rather forget — you left breathless and wanton in the heat of the explosion he draws out of you, mewling something desperate and pleading against your own will and the song of it fills his ears like it’s all he’s ever wanted. There it is, and I thought we’d be here all night. A thumb flickers over the nerves at your entrance and you practically jump, something between a yelp and a moan escaping your lips.

First one’s just a treat, sweetness. Now on, you cum when I say you do, understand?

You nod.

Oh you nod, and you are lost, here and now. Sensitive and broken and there is so little of that steel spine here, writhing in his sheets and ohyou don’t know the things you do to him.

Think you can go again, sweetness? He’s purring, smug, twisting fingers stretching you slowly, muttering under his breath about how fucking tight you are around his fingers, how good you’re going to feel for him, and the smugness on his face is slowly fading into a dark consternation, brows furrowed like he’s somehow angry at you for being plush and delicate and fuckable.

You’re almost begging him to stop, and yet the pressure is building again, the twisting, coiling heat that leaves you breathless and mewling and he looks like he might be trying to immortalize this moment forever. Say it, sweetness. Say you need me. Beg me for my cock.

That’s it.

That’s what you need to, you need to beg, you need to give in. No more fighting, no more arguing no more —

Please…

Please what, sweetness, come on now. You got a way with words. The snarl is so barely contained.

Please, Captain, please just…

What do you need, sweetness? The fingers are relentless, the buzz in your nerves is overwhelming, you can barely even hear yourself talk, much less him.

Please just fuck me, Captain, I need your cock! It’s hurried and it’s crude and it’s desperate and it’s exactly what he wants as just another wall crumbles and you fall off your pedestal right into his arms.

He’s barely able to resist the buck of his hips, the need to be inside you, the knowledge that you are soft and velvet and you could be all over his senses just like this.

When did he free his cock? You don’t know, you just know it’s practically salvation when he sinks into you, when he fills you like you’ve been desperate for and Oh sweetness…pours from his lips just as you hiss out something like praise right back at him.

You’re so full and he’s so gentle, at first, like you’re made of crystal in his arms, like the slow shifting of his hips might have you shattering underneath him if he’s not careful. Cradling you, even, sliding your legs around his narrow hips as he leans in and takes a hungry kiss from your wanting, whimpering mouth.

Love this look on you, all wrapped around me, whispered low and slow into your ear, sweetness you have no idea how good you look…

Melt into those compliments, melt into him, because the way he’s holding you is divine and you can feel him so deep in you it’s making your head spin. When did your arms end up around him? When did you start clinging to him like an anchor, start winding your fingers through his hair, start leaving the marks of your nails on his back to the sound of his own needy groaning?

He noses your cheek and leaves a mark of ownership on your neck with hungry lips, knowing you’ll bruise a beautiful flower right over your pulsebeat and continuing the steady assault on your nerves, cunt-first.

Harder. Faster. More.

And oh, sweetness, you do shatter.

You shatter all around him, you shatter into something divine and rapturous, full of him and filled with him and he cums so deep inside you as you do, still fucking you through your joined climax, hips rutting and breath hitching and nearly furious at you for the way his vision whites out too, the way he feels like he can Never get enough and so he hisses that at you like an accusation while his thoughts reorient back to reality, back to smugness, back to the control you took from him while he tried to strip you of yours.

In the end, as he pulls away from you and sinks to the side of you, watching your sweet expression as you return to the reality of your new situation, he is satisfied… thoroughly.

Oh yeah, I think we can make this a working relationship, Counsel.

[hp-fanfic-archive]

an introductory rec list (that nobody asked for) for some of my favorite (platonic and/or romantic) pairings: severitus [2/10]

First fic I read for the pairing: Of Potions and Phobias by tt22123 [1k,G] Severitus story with nightmares [i stumbled on this fic on accident and it was short and sweet (and a little bittersweet at the end).]

Fic that really sold me on the pairing: Leo Inter Serpentes (Series) by Aeternum [746k,E,6 works] (WIP) Just one conversation between two eleven year old boys goes slightly differently, and the world changes. Just how much will be different with Harry being sorted into Slytherin, and how much will stay the same? [i will never not recommend this series: it’s amazing, it’s well-written, it’s true to all the characters and relationships and it feels more canon than canon (of course, it’s also significantly more gay than canon but i said what i said).]

Absolute favorite fic(s) for the pairing: Nobody Cared by etherian [360k,G] Harry is 11 years old and looking forward to attending Hogwarts. Why, then, does he miss the Welcoming Feast? (warnings for: child abuse, bullying, depictions of violence) [this fic is really well done (but has a lot of angst and definitely mind the warnings above (although the author doesn’t include warnings on the fic)).] Family Means More Than Blood by WingsOfADream [422k,M] A prophecy made in 1975 drastically changes the life of the boy who should have been known as Harry Potter. [this is yet another fic with a really well-written and fascinating plot with excellent characterizations and plot lines. i definitely would recommend it to someone with a lot of time on their hands.]

Most recent fic I’ve read for the pairing: Blackberry Tart by starknjarvis [33k,G] One year after Severus Snape offered to become Harry's legal guardian, Sirius Black shows up at Hogwarts. [the fic is a part of a well-written and pragmatic series and this fic also includes the development of a remus & severus and a sirius & severus friendship so that harry can have a larger and supportive family and i’m living for it (i believe the exact tag that the author used was “coparenting with your childhood nemesis” and i am living for it).]

Favorite AU(s) I’ve read for the pairing: Alternate Sorting AU (Slytherin!Harry): Malfoy Flavor by Vorabiza [199k,E] Harry’s ready to banish the Golden Boy image and take charge of his life. Unfortunately for him, or fortunately, there are surprises in store for him. [Slytherin!Harry but it’s not an entire canon rewrite like most of the alternate sorting fics i love so much, so that’s fun. also drarry and just the right amount of painful but realistic angst. oh and it has a delightfully fluffy little sequel.]

Favorite Series for the pairing: Forgiveness & Redemption by waitingondaisies [130k,T,2 works] Severus Snape was discovered as a spy mere days before the start of the school year. Thankfully, Albus had been working on a vague contingency plan for this possibility. It had been inspired by the question, “What would it take for Severus Snape to see that he was wrong about Harry Potter?” The answer? Force Severus to go undercover as Alfonse “Eli” Hopkirk, a sixth year Gryffindor. (that’s technically the summary for the first fic but i think it serves well enough in lieu of a series summary, which the author did not provide. also warnings for child abuse.) [this series is such an interesting concept and it feels very realistic in how it played out and i’m honestly here for it.] You're a Parent, Severus by acmparker [210k,G,6 works] (WIP) When Lily got home from her first year at Hogwarts, she found a new distance between herself and Petunia. As a result Severus and Lily became even closer to each other over that summer. The next year Lily found a book in the Hogwarts Library that describe an ancient ritual for creating a blood bond that would make two unrelated people kin. She convinces Severus to undergo the ritual with her and they become brother and sister. This means that when Lily dies there is another whose blood relationship with her is recognized by the blood ward Dumbledore places on Harry. To Severus Snape's chagrin he finds himself the last line of defense between Harry and the forces of the Dark Lord. (again, no series summary but i think this works well enough.) [i love a good remus and severus friendship plus severitus so this series really works for me. and it’s a canon rewrite (love those).] Bruised Words by starknjarvis [49k,G,2 works] (WIP) After Harry blows up Aunt Marge, Dumbledore decides it's not safe for Harry to spend the rest of the summer at the Leaky Cauldron, and instead sends him to stay at Spinner’s End with Professor Snape. It's tense, awkward, and teeming with misunderstandings...but it might be the best thing that's happened to either of them. They're both been without a family for a very long time. (apparently all my favorite series aside from Leo Inter Serpentes, which i’ve already listed above, don’t have series descriptions, but the first work’s description seems to work well enough. also warnings for child abuse.) [this is the series that blackberry tart belongs to and may i just say: it’s excellent and well-written and pragmatic and i would recommend it.]

Longest fic I’ve read for the pairing: A Year Like None Other by aspeninthesunlight [789k,T] A letter from home? A letter from family? Well, Harry Potter knows he has neither, but all the same, it starts with a letter from Surrey. Whatever the Durleys have to say, it can't be anything good, so Harry's determined to ignore it. But then, his evil schoolmate rival spots the letter and his slimy excuse for a teacher intercepts it and forces him to read it. And that sends Harry down a path he'd never have walked on his own. It will be a year of big changes, a year of great pain, and a year of confronting worst fears. It will be a year of surprising discoveries, of finding true strength, of finding out that first impressions of a person's true colours do not always ring true. It will be a year of paradigm shifts. And from the most unexpected sources, Harry will have a chance to have that which he has never known: a home ... and a family. A sixth year fic, this story follows Order of the Phoenix and disregards any canon events that occur after Book 5. (warnings for: graphic depictions of violence, self-harm, severe medical trauma) [the fic has some really dark parts but the plot is so intricate and fascinating and the relationships and dynamics are excellently written and the characterizations are spot on and i would definitely recommend it to anyone with a lot of time on their hands.]

Fic(s) with some of my favorite tropes: Sickfic + Hurt/Comfort: When He Called Me Dad by MarauderChaos [31k,Not Rated] It was only however as the end of his second year did Severus collect enough evidence and enough of his own courage to step in. The boy looked as though the world was ending when Severus brought him to his private quarters to see Madam Bones, and for a moment Severus felt the world was ending when someone recommended him as guardian. But that was how it ended, with Harry Potter becoming the ward of the Potions Master. It was kept a secret from the press and the students of Hogwarts – even his own Godson didn’t know, mainly because Lucius was bound to hear of it if he did and Severus didn’t want to risk their lives. They had their ups and downs, screaming and shouting, hexes and slamming doors, crying and hugging, laughing and actually having fun. But there was one moment that Severus would always remember, with its own fair share of good and bad, was the time he called him Dad. [i’m a sucker for hurt/comfort and accidental revelation of feelings, which in this case is the strength of harry’s platonic feelings, and this fic has all that so… yeehaw.] Accidental Bonding (but make it platonic): Love is... (series) by atiaahmed [133k,G,4 works] (WIP) This series revolves around how Snape starts to care about Harry because of a charm put on him by Ron and Hermione. The first story "Love is a charm" explores how their relationship changes because of the charm and what happens when it expires at the end of the year The second story explores how their relationship develops after the events of "Love is a charm". In "Love is a haven" other paternal figures, namely Lupin and Black will threaten Severus position with Harry. [i kind of like the platonic severitus take on one of my favorite hp tropes tbh and i like the way that their relationship develops and the realistic trust issues and such.]

[you-are-my-neverland]

“That’s a shame,” Professor Laurier said. “If I may give you a word of advice, Ms. Beaulieu, I would say that you need to figure out what you want, not what you think you need to.”

- F I V E 

[ a/n: and we’re officially on november 20th, 2/3rds of the way through with national novel writing month twenty twenty. this novel remains unnamed, but my word count is, as of the 20th, 43.5k, which is a bit insane. i attempted to actually make this post nice to look at. we’ll see what happens ] 

songs i one hour looped to.

sleep thru ur alarms by lontalius

it’s not love by lontalius

wings by birdy

grace by lewis capaldi

nym by phlux

praying by kesha

girls by girl in red

writing thoughts.

i’m really proud to have kept up my average so far, especially since the middle is usually really lagging. i wrote almost four more chapters and half of it is literally just like pages of prose, thoughts, character introspection, and generally filler dives into the mind, but while i am a bit frustrated that it feels like this wip is really dragging it’s feet, i have been enjoying myself immensely. right now, it’s really just setting the stage and starting to build the bones of bare character dynamics/relationships that will all develop later on - necessary (i mean probably not 40k worth, but yeah...) but lengthy.

as excited as i am to get to some action, like even just the first teeny tiny start of the mountain, i am having a lot of fun fleshing out my characters. i feel like i’m really getting to know them (and also finding out that i am projecting onto ophelia and eden hard lol, geez). of course, i have a really large cast for this wip that will be of varying importance throughout at least this book, but that also is a bit messy, because i’m trying to weave them all together and make sure they get set up for later arcs.

on that note, i still want to call this wip these violent ends, but considering it’s technically the first of a trilogy idk how that would work out...i’m really attached to that title though lol. 

anyways, here are some favorite lines - tried to pick some out, might like chapter six a bit too much..

some favorite lines. 

three.

“So I’m throwing a fucking party,” Thaleia added. “And we’re all going to have so much fucking fun.”

four.

Ophelia opened it to find Sebastian methodically lacing up his tennis shoes, which looked too ordinary to be real against the soft white of his clothing, as if a medieval peasant had walked into a Nike shop and simply selected a pair of sleek shoes that matched.

“I love your dress, by the way,” the other girl added. “Red looks good on you.” “You, too,” Ophelia said, and then flushed, correcting, “I mean your dress looks good on you. It’s very pretty.”

five.

Ophelia hadn’t thought that he was the type to like to disappear, but then she had thought about it more, at a night when she’d missed home a little too much, and realized that not everyone wanted to disappear in the same way, that not everyone was like her brother to a T.

They had been six or seven or eight when the Red Revolution had started, and like their parents remembered how it had started in waves, they had been raised in a changing world and tumultuous times. She remembered the air raids, the practice lockdowns and the sheets that had come in the mail, demonstrating what to do in an emergency, or if they had to suddenly evacuate. Wanted posters, with constantly changing pictures. Missing posters—and those had been the worst. Ophelia remembered one coming in of a little girl her age, with pigtails and gap teeth. She couldn’t recall much from that period before eight—a few scattered memories of the Revolution, Des and Tian and her, but more emotions attached to events, short in her mind—but she remembered that girl on the missing person’s poster. They’d found her body a week later.    

Ophelia blinked, at a loss for words. “I do belong with my brother,” she said, finally. “There’s no situation where I wouldn’t actively choose to be with my brother.” “And does your brother, Sebastian, was it, feel the same way?”

six.

But Vincent was dirt poor and used to empty cabinets and red numbers on unopened bills, so he had stopped worrying about why his mother had left and died in the first place—all that mattered was that he was alone, now. He couldn’t hide the aura that surrounded him, that showed itself in his old clothes and his broken shoes and his undernourished body, in the bloodshot eyes and the slight tremble of his eyes and the smell of smoke that accompanied him wherever he went.

Well, his teachers back home probably thought his life would not amount to anything more than dying early as a drug addict, and Vincent wanting to do something more than that was seen as just daydreaming. It was funny, how they told kids like him they could be anything and then turned tail and said that they were shooting too high by wanting to ever get out of that town or their poverty line lifestyles. He was getting out of that town. He would never live at the poverty line again. 

“No,” Asriel cut in. His voice was calm and smooth as glass. “What was the government doing that was so wrong that some Mages felt the need to overthrow it in the first place?”

Happiness and warmth gave Vincent as much power as the other side to the coin, the wrath and the chaos that came after the smile, or the laugh. For Asriel, he thought smiling might be a bit of a death sentence, because when Asriel smiled, it gave the impression that he had given something up, taken down a bit of his walls, in order to do so, and that was dangerous.

Even if their ghosts didn’t remain, the memories mired in the streets he walked daily held him with bony fingers, reminding him of the pasts so many people had lived. Pieces of soul left behind, ghostly forms that stayed behind on scraps of emotion: vengefulness, anger, sadness, and regret; nobody died without one of them left behind. For all the brave stories Sebastian had read about soldiers or people who had died ready for it, embraced it with open arms, he had yet to meet a ghost that had been ready to leave.

They told him to hate the ghosts, and so by sheer power of will, Sebastian loved them instead.

taglist > @semblanche

if you think this wip is cool and would like sporadic updates, express your interest explicitly, please!

[the-miss-lv]

WIP Gramander fic ‘Offering‘

Here’s a peek at a short gramander smut fic I’m working on. Warnings for Percival being a monster/creature and Newt his human lover as well as mentioned past underage.

Newt woke body warm and nose cold. He snuggled himself deeper into his blanket furs and pressed closer to Theseus for his body heat. The cottage was quiet but the light of the morning was beginning to show, letting Newt see around the room that was their home. His parents were sleeping in their bed on the other side of the fire. The embers still glowing faintly. It wasn’t far enough into autumn that they needed to keep the fire all night for the heat.

Shivering at the cold air on his cheeks, Newt snuggled down into his bedding a bit more, enjoy the moment of calm comfort before he sighed and got up. With care not to lift the furs and let out the heat that would give Theseus a chill, Newt slipped from the bedding. His clothing were in between the furs they used as blankets and nice and warm. He wore a under shirt and leggins already but the added layer were nice and warm. His socks hung by the fire and were also nice and heated as he dressed and did his boots up for the day. Without making a sound to wake anyone, Newt slipped out of the room and out of the house. The rest of the village was still asleep as well, the sun not peeking yet, only just showing the barest hint of waking for the day.

Newt would have a bit of time to himself.

He walked along the forest path, brisk morning air making him shiver a bit. His breath visible in puffs as he left the trail and began off to the north. With practised easy he meandered through the forest, knowing the unseen paths since he was a boy. He stopped to pick a few ripe plants and tuck them into his bag, collecting what the village could use with care not to strip and kill the plants.

“Good morning,” he greeted the deer he passed and he smiled up at the birds as the woke for their day as well.

Many people found the forest daunting, dangerous and deadly.

Newt had never seen it as such, always feeling welcomed among the trees. If anything, it was the village were he felt the most awkward, never fitting in. Newt walked along a fallen log and mused that he was far more fair footed out in the forest then he ever felt on the flat stone of the village.

A branch snapped and Newt paused, looking to his right to see a large elk lifting it’s great head, mouth full of grass as it chewed contently. Most would statle to see a human but this one knew Newt and so remained where it was, eating as it watched Newt wave and continue passed.

It made him feel a bit guilty, when the hunters found no game in the area and Newt knew there was many. But the animals trusted Newt as well, not to harm them or bring harm upon them either. The village ate well enough anyway.

The Graves saw to that. His great skull and horns symbol carved into the stone in the middle of the village. So all that came through knew which god they worshipped. Graves was a local god and not a great mighty one that might forget them among the hundreds of thousands who honored. But that also meant no great miracles would come to them. The village was content with the balance, they had to work hard but no cruel times fell on them either. Game remained in the area even if it did thin at times, the harvest always grew but was sometimes less than previous years. A balance. A give or take but one that left them able to survive each season.  

The Graves way.

Newt heard the crunch of leaves, something large and looked up, finding nothing.

Smiling, he closed his eyes and reached out, letting something in him guide each step. Something unseen and unexplained. Faith his mum called it. Magic Theseus supposed. The unknown his dad decided.

Newt’s fingers found warm fur and he stepped closer hurriedly, burying his face into the heat and sighing as the autumn chill left his bones.

Percival huffed out, amused as Newt snuggled into his side.

“Hello,” Newt breathed, opening his eyes slowly and letting the focus come as it pleased. Percival could be hard to see. His ilk were very mysterious, one of the many creatures of the land that were more in the realm of the gods than mortals. Magical.

Percival came into view gradually he looked very beastly today like a over sized mix between a bear and wolf with a bit of almost human added. But he often changed a bit, sometimes more human and other days more a beast. The only thing consistent about him was the large set of antlers on his head, all pointed and gleaming sharply. Perhaps if Newt hadn’t met him as a child he’d be more afraid of Percival, with his long claws and predator gaze. His great hulking body and mix of flesh and fur, a monstrous beast that would certainly scare the wits of the village. But to Newt he was merely Percival, a dear friend. A creature who followed him since he was a boy and had let him home a few times when he had grown lost or it had become late into the night.

“I was hoping I would find you today, the village is getting busy with preparations for the fall harvest festival and I won’t be able to visit much soon.”

Newt smiled and unhappily gave up Percival’s body heat to step back. It seemed to linger however, keeping him warm and the chill away from him.

“How have you been? Is the forest fairing well?” Newt asked lightly, walking along the forest with care not disturb the young trees growing from the dirt. Percival rumbled in reply, never speaking a word in all the years Newt knew him. But his gaze was keen and aware, he knew what Newt was saying, even if he never answered beyond rumbles and growls.

Newt walked the path to the river as he did each morning, stopping to pick berries were they were ready. He popped a few into his mouth and licked the juices on his lips. The sun was rising now, warming the air as morning dew gleaming in the light. It made the forest that much more gorgeous and it always stole Newt’s breath away.

“I think autumn is my favorite season, I love them all but there something about the end of summer that seems so perfect,” Newt rambled easily. “The weather is perfect, not too hot or too cold, just enough of both. Everything is finally ready to eat and the land is so pretty,” he smiled up at the trees, eager to see the yellows and red emerge.

Percival huffed at his side, not agreeing or disagreeing.

Feeling content with the world, Newt arrived at the point in the river he liked best. A nice narrow break with grass so fish had a tendency to linger. A great old tree that had fallen long ago provide a walkway for Newt to venture along the water’s edge and spear fish.

“Are you hungry?” Newt asked, sometimes Percival took fish offering and other times he refused. The great beast looked away, more keen on the shoreline then the fish so likely not interested in eating.

Quicker than usual, Newt caught two nice sized fish and sat on the shore to gut them. Birds landing around him to gobble up the guts he discarded eagerly. Newt whistled with them, singing soft songs together as he worked and let them take what he wouldn’t eat. Some sat on his shoulder, contend to take his body heat while a few more adventurous ones inspected his bag, knowing there were berries inside it.

“I might not be able to come out as much for a bit, with the festival preparation beginning, it’s my first proper time attending you see. I’ve only just come of age,” Newt explained to the gathered creatures but mostly Percival, who laid beside them all napping lightly. His eyes slid open and gaze turning to Newt. It was always a bit startling, to feel the weight of his eyes on him. Like a big old bear sizing Newt up and wondering if he would make a good snack. But Percival wasn’t like that. He’d have eaten Newt long ago if so.

“I’m excited a bit, Theseus has been going for a few years and talks of it lots. But Theseus has favor with Graves so it makes sense that he would have fun.”

Each year of the festival, the god would pass through the village and marked his favored family with a fresh kill, a deer that would feed the family well. Theseus was a excellent hunter and very fair about it, never going after deer with babies or setting cruel snares. The god Graves was a hunter himself and he liked Theseus enough to show favor. Each morning Newt’s family woke to a deer outside their door, the only in the village to win such a honor. It was a very good thing, as it meant the god would assist the whole village and look after them all. Theseus was very well liked because he helped keep them all safe. Newt was very proud of his big brother and eager to see the celebration to the god. The children of the village went to bed when the light faded but the adults stayed up much later and danced and shared drinks and happiness. Newt hoped he would be included, but Theseus had always made sure he was so Newt felt confident he would enjoy the festival.

“I hope it goes well,” Newt admitted softly, a part of him hoping that this step into adulthood would help him make closer bonds with the villagers. They weren’t cold or cruel to him, but Newt had always felt a bit different from them. Never able to find his place among them as easily as Theseus always had, able to charm anyone it felt like.

Percival got up and padded over to Newt, nuzzling his ace lightly and Newt smiled in return.

“I can’t, I’ve got to get back early today,” he explained gently as he pushed the beast away and stood up, hanging his fish on the end of a stick with a bit of rope to be able to carry them home without out smearing fish all over his clothing.

Percival huffed again, following Newt and his from shifting so seamlessly, becoming more human looking as he grumbled at Newt in displasure.

“I’m sorry, I really so have to be home, I promised to help mum gather flowers today,” he divulged. He received a more louder grumble and the beast pushed up at Newt’s back, making him stumble a bit.  

“Percival!” Newt scolded without true heat, his face flushing as the monster nuzzled at his shoulder eagerly. Human-like hands curled on his hip, holding them in place as Percival pulled Newt’s backside into his lap and humped at him. He was upright now, walking like a man but more like a bear than a person, those huge antler looming over Newt.

“I p-promised,” he protested and Percival made a soothing sound in reply, really not caring where Newt was supposed to be.

“What will happen if I offend Graves and he leaves my village? Then we’ll all perish and who will you hump then?”

Newt let his bag and the fish slip from his hold however, feeling his body being stirred up with each lazy thrust against his backside. He could feel the length of Percival growing thick and eager.  

Another reason Newt was odd, he thought. This perverse hunger inside him, not for women but for men, for beastly monsters in the forest even. Percival was the only one to ever do this sort of thing with Newt. The beast pushing him down and Newt went with a breathy sound. His knees hitting the grass as he knelt down on his hands and knees, long dangerous claws careful as they pulled his leggins and under things down around his knees. The cool morning air on his skin and then the heat of breath.

Newt wasn’t sure how old he was when this began, back when sex first began to interest him he supposed. Percival had been his friend since Newt was a toddler, seeing him over his mother's shoulder, peeking at the beast no one else saw. Newt had grown up running wild in the forest, safe in Percival’s shadow. Nothing ill ever came for him, no predator beast ever looked at Newt when such a huge monster loomed over him. He had spent lazy summers laying on Percival’s back when he was mostly a beast, lumbering along as Newt rode him and felt the sun warm his back, the musky scent of Percival’s fur soothing.  

At some point growing up Newt had begun to feel sexual want, hips rolling against his palm as he touched himself. He shared a bed with Theseus, always had to keep warm and to stay safe. So Newt couldn't fumble at night, he’d die of embarrassment if Theseus woke and found out. The only time he had away from other people was in the forest and so before long he was settled under the trees, hand in his pants exploring.

Graves was a known for fertility as well so such things were encouraged, to be sexual and enjoy the sensations of the body. It would have been fine if Percival didn't take notice of it all. Always so nosy about things, shoving his face to see what Newt was doing. He was a great looming creature and Newt couldn’t over power him, so when Percival wanted to see something, he got to see. Newt ended up without his leggins multiple times, being licked and explored, that wet hot tongue doing things to him he never knew he could feel. Newt always a bit dazed afterward, his knees wobbling a bit.   

He had grown up that way, Percival taking what he wanted and Newt always breathless after, dripping his own seed. It wasn’t common to prefer the same gender, it meant less children and wasn’t approved of. Newt would struggle to be allowed to marry another man and the idea of taking home a monster to his parents was ridiculous. He had supposed that meant he might never marry, that he might spend his whole life with a secret beast lover. There was a old lady in the village who never married. She was talented with herbs however and so allowed to be odd. If Newt could learn a skill well enough, he might be allowed as she was.

“P-Percy,” Newt whined out, the first wet lap of a tongue his skin making him shiver. It felt so dirty and wrong, to be touched there but something about it also very so very good. It made the hunger in Newt’s belly twist up and his own cock go hard and needy.

Each wet slurping sound made him whimper, the feel of the hot breath on his skin and then that long lap made Newt clutch at the grass. His hips rocked of their own intent, Newt panting as Percival worked, got Newt’s lust so riled up he was gasping out and shoving back. Feeling Percival's long monster tongue press at his hole, wanting to invade Newt’s body. Pushing intently as he closed his eyes tight and focused on that feeling. His hole fluttering as he felt the sloppy kisses against it.

Newt felt Percival pull back a touch and then his long tongue lapped at Newts hanging cock. Percival lifted Newt’s weight easily, his knees lifting off the grass as Percival held him by the hips so he could reach as he pleased without bending down so far. He licked at Newt’s cock, catching the stray drips from the tip and making it throb even harder with the wet lapping.

“Percy,” he whined out, far too loud in the calm forest as he shivered and spilled his seed. The monster was ready for it, licking it all up before it could fall the grass. He leisurely cleaned Newt after, grooming him more then teasing it felt like as Newt gasped for his breath. Newt was set back down onto his hands and knees and he wasn’t surprised when Percival was over his back.

“I really do have to go home,” Newt whispered meekly, face feeling hot and red as the monster over him nuzzled his ear and licked at Newt’s neck. He felt the heat of Percival’s long thick cock brushing over Newt’s thighs, His leggings tangled at his knees still. He leaned forward a bit, pressing his thighs together as Percival arranged himself over Newt’s slight body. Pressing so he could rut his cock against Newt’s thighs. The length already dripping and wet making a mess.  

Feeling so dizzily eager, Newt tried to ignore his spent cock wanting another round. They could go back and forth four or fives times some days. But Newt couldn’t waste time. Still, it would be far too rude to let himself spill and not return the favor. So Newt laid plaint and willing, his body rocked with each lunge of Percival’s powerful form. His cock moving back and forth between Newt’s thighs as he pressed them together, feeling that fat length sliding back and forth.

Percival licked at his ear and the side of his face, scenting his hair and grooming and he rumbled approvingly. Wet sounds filled the air, the thump each time Perceval pressed down, his fur growing wet at his lap and feeling so dirtily wrong and oh so good.

Newt let out soft sounds, rythmic to the each motion. As Percival’s pace increased so did Newt’s moans. The beast going faster now, pumping hard and Newt could feel the slick on his thighs increasing. Percival produced a great deal of seed, often dripping a great deal during sexual acts and coming a big mess as well. Newt could feel and hear the lewd slaps, his skin soaked now. Whimpering as Percival huffed in his ear and fucked his thighs relentlessly Newt could feel himself getting hard and throbbing so fast. The way Percival was pounding against him so stimulating, making him want more, the burn of being filled up.

Newt wanted to be fucked.

They had done so many things together, but Percival had never tried to penetrate Newt, always content between his thighs.

Crying out, he felt Percival began to swell up and puse tellingly. He clenched his thighs at the monster over him growled out and lunged as far as he could, the tip poking out under Newt as it spilled. Newt shover a hand under his belly and cupped the head, the pulse if come into his palm falling to the grass as Newt yanked his shirt higher up to avoid messing it. He didn't have time to wash it in the river.

Percival’s seed overflowed against his palm, dripping down between his fingers, warm enough to be almost hot. Thick and sticky ad percvial snarled out and Newt’s hips rocked on their own, his own cock dragging against the wet grass, everything slicked with Percival’s seed and the slide enough to make him spill a second time. Newt whimpered out, Percival’s tongue on his neck as he shivered and slumped to the ground.  

He let Percival groom him a bit, lazily licking at Newt's skin and hair affectionately. But once Newt feel like he could, he began to wiggle out from under his beastly lover. Percival grumbled but let him, pulling up so Newt could roll to the side and avoid getting the puddle of seed on his leggins. There was bit of course, there always was, but not so much he couldn't wipe it away. His one hand already dripping messily.

With a fond sigh, Newt went about cleaning himself up, getting his leggings back up and going to the river shore to clean himself up as best as he could. Percival followed him lazily, relaxed now that he’d gotten a go at Newt.

“There you go,” Newt told him, going to his side and reaching over to drop a kiss to Percival’s head lightly. “Don’t be all mopy with me when I take a bit to come around again, I really do have to help out with the festival,” he explained gently.

Newt retrieved his bag, glad to see he still had fish and no one had come and stolen them while he was preoccupied.

“Wish me luck? I do really hope this goes well,” Newt called, waving to Percival who remained at the river’s edge as Newt headed back to the village.

It went as Newt expected it would, not great but not horrid either. He didn’t make any new friendships but people were nice to him. He stayed but his family's side mostly, helping Theseus clean his kills and his father gather wheat in the field for the harvest. He helped his mother pick flowers and herbs to dry, working to create a strong offering to add to the village winter storage. Newt was another hand helping but he didn’t bring the same way Theseus did when he caught rabbit after rabbit and a larger deer. They butchered the beasts and put the meat in pickling jars and dried out other cuts to save for the depth of winter. Newt’s father helped grow the wheat and his mother knew her herbs and where to find them. Newt was better at that, knowing where in the forest to find the more rare ones, some even his mother hadn’t know of. Perhaps he could make his worth in that.

Newt woke each morning with his family and worked with who ever needed help that day, right until it was dark and time to sleep. The nights began to grow more colder and they kept the fires burning later. Newt ate bread and bits of meat for lunch during breaks in the fields with his father. He couldn’t work the scythe as well but he was decent at gathering the wheat and tying it into neat bundles. Other days he followed Theseus on the hunt and felt a bit bad for seeing beast more than he ever admitted too.

“It’s not a bad thing, to have mercy in you,” Theseus told him kindly when the took a break and cleaned rabbits by the river.

Newt tried to look confused but Theseus knew him too well for it.

“Your eyes always dart when you see something, but then you hesitate to reveal whatever creature you saw,” Theseus explained. “I use to think you were distracted but now I can see your gaze is far more sharp than you ever admit. You notice more in the winter when we've had bad hunts and need to meat more I realized.”

“Thee,” Newt felt guilt swell in his chest, glancing at the other hunters who were out of earshot.

“It’s ok Newt, to have mercy. The Graves is fond of the forest you know, not just hunting and killing, but life as well, creatures and their natures. You know?” Theseus smiled reassuringly and Newt felt a great swell of affection for his elder sibling. Theseus had always been kind to Newt, doting on him when other siblings in the village fought far more.

“I’m a bit relieved really, you’ve got a really good shot with a bow Newt, if you aimed more to kill you’d probably be far better a hunter than me, then where would I be?” Theseus grinned and Newt felt himself return it.

“You've the favor of the Graves, you'd still be very useful for that alone,” Newt offered.

“I suppose but…” Theseus huffed. “That’s different, I don’t feel like I actually do anything really. I’ve never understood it. To have the favor of someone I’ve never even seen.”

Newt blinked, frowning a bit and glancing at the people not listening to them. Ill talk of the god was very frowned upon.

“Not that I’m not very grateful,” Theseus added quickly, glancing around as if the great god might be lurking around somewhere. “I just don’t understand why he likes me or how to make sure I’m doing what he wants. The elders say I’m doing just fine, but I feel like I should try more.”

Newt bit his lip to hold in all the questions that wanted to pour forth.

“But you see him don’t you? Turing the night festival?”

Theseus nodded his head slowly.

“It’s hard to explain, you don't look at him.”

Newt nodded his head eagerly. Children weren't allowed to the night festival or the offering ceremony. The adults didn’t speak of it either beyond what you were to do. Keep your head down and offer thanks. Looking upon a god enraged them and they would kill you on the spot if you dared to glance up. Some said people couldn’t look at a god without aging into dust immediately. It sounded terrifying and utterly exhilarating.  

“He’s never shown me any attention or anything, he just pauses at our family and seemed to look at us. Then he walks to the altar and takes what he wants and then leaves. It's over in a  few minutes.”

Newt took the information carefully, turning it over in his head.

“No one sees him bring in the favor he gives?”

Graves always brought a deer, shot with a single arrow mark and always right in the head, a instant and painless death. It would appear at their doorstep every morning. Newt could hear the shuffle every time, coming awake but never once daring to open his eyes, heart pounding in fear every time.

Theseus shook his head.

“Everyone gets drunk and stumbles home, some people see it if they stay up all night but no one's ever seen him deliver it.”

Newt chewed his lip and considered keeping quiet. But the ‘thump thump’ of the gods footsteps would echo in his chest every time, the sound of breath like a great beast and the sound of the deer on the doorstep burned into his memory over the years, since he was a boy. Newt had always thought everyone could hear it but never spoke of it.

“You’ve never… heard anything?” Newt whispered meekly and Theseus blinked at him, staring a moment.

“You’ve heard him?” He asked, his eyes going wide in a way that told Newt he shouldn’t have said anything.

The other hunters called them, ready to move on and Newt went hastily feeling his brother’s gaze on him the entire time. Newt avoiding being alone with Theseus after that and his brother left him be, but when he looked at Newt, his gaze was different, trying to place something it felt like.

“You helped with the honey last year,” Theseus mentioned over dinner the next night, Newt looking up at him. He chewed his meat and nodded his head in positive.

“And the flower wreaths the year before, and the jars of rabbit stew before that?”

“A bit, I help with lots of things though,” Newt replied with a bit of a confused frown.

“I know, it’s just, I was thinking and everything Graves takes from the altar you’ve helped with, as far back as I can recall.”

Both of their parents looked up sharply, staring at Theseus.

Newt flushed and looked down at his plate, wishing his brother wouldn’t do this to him. Put such thoughts into his head. Newt wasn’t special, he was just Newt. He had no real skills, why would a god want him of all people?

“But you’re the better hunter,” Newt pointed out. “You’ve the one the village likes best and much better at everything than I am.”

“That’s not true,” their mum huffed, reaching out pat Newt’s arm affectionately.

“We’ve all skills and strengths of our own. Enough of this talk, you’ll bring discord on us,” she warned and they both nodded. Newt sent an apologetic thought to the Graves god, hoping he took no offense. Newt would be very grateful if for some reason the god did indeed favor Newt but was also content to let it be Theseus. He only wanted the village to be happy and safe.  

Thankfully, Theseus kept his thoughts on the matter to himself after that and never said anything to anyone else. No one stared at Newt or mutter about him, just ignoring him as he always had been. Drifting through the village at ease, used to being left alone. He missed his morning walks and having time to visit the depths of the forests. It felt like it had been far too long since he saw Percival, since his body had that sort of relief.

But the festival was tonight and once it was over Newt would have time to himself again. For now he remained dedicated to his family and village.

It seemed both too fast and too slow for the night to come. The village spent the day in a celebration, ending daily duties early to share in a large feast. Music played and children ran wild in the square, a good cheer shared by all. Theseus kept Newt close as usual, making a point to include him in conversations and others followed suit, willing to talk with Newt to please Theseus. Still, it was nice to make light chatter with the people he had grown up around. Newt sipped the mead given to him and looked over the square, his heart content and happy to see everyone else enjoying themselves. This was his home after all, and Newt just wanted to see it do well and flourish.  

[bronzeflower]

Who The Fuck Writes A Ten-Page Rant?????

Chapter 13: Roxy is Visiting!!!!

Also on ao3 and part of @wipweek for my favorite wip!

“How’s my favorite little brother doing?” Roxy put you into what was basically a wrestling move with how aggressive it was, but you were pretty sure it was meant to be a hug, so you tried to hug her back.

“Good.” You managed to squeak out. You really couldn't breathe that well with Roxy squeezing you like that.

After a few more seconds of Roxy hugging you, she finally stopped, and, therefore, you could finally breathe.

“How have you been doing?” You asked. “Hack into anything you shouldn’t have yet?”

“I’ve been doing great! And I’ve only hacked into something I shouldn’t have a few times.”

“Define a few times.”

“Like, at least a hundred.” Roxy frowned. “But that doesn’t matter because I’m here, and we’re going to have some fun. Where’s Rose?”

“I think she’s on a date right now.”

“What! Rose has a date? Who is she?” Roxy asked. “How many dates have they been on? Have they kissed yet? Are they in love? When am I going to be invited to the wedding? Dave, you need to tell me everything.”

“Woah there, Roxy. You might want to chill it a bit with the questions. I can’t keep track of them all. And you might want to ask Rose those questions once she comes back from her date. She should know that you’re here anyway.” You looked at Roxy somewhat suspiciously. “You did remember to tell Rose you were coming here, right? You didn’t just tell me and trust that I would tell Rose?”

“Well, uh, I may have… forgotten.” Roxy looked sheepish for a moment before bouncing back. “But, it’s whatev’s because I’m here now, and I’m staying with you, so it’s not like room and board is an issue or anything.”

“Rose is going to be so mad about not being able to get a gift for you when you arrived.”

“She doesn’t have to get me a gift every single time I visit. I’m her sister! And I try to make a habit of visiting as often as my job will allow.”

“How is your job going by the way? I trust it’s going as smooth as chocolate fondue that’s going to be spread on some cake or some shit?”

“My job is going super! But, now I’m hungry. We should go out to eat and catch up and stuff.” Roxy suggested. “Then I can tell you all about the shit I’ve been building. Oh, yeah, and I can tell you about my new coworker who's absolutely shredded. Like, woah. I don’t know what he did previously for a living, but he is completely jacked, bro.”

“Like, he can probably bench press you jacked or he can probably bench press a car jacked?”

“I’m pretty sure he could bench press a building if it was detached from the ground,” Roxy answered.

“Oh shit. That’s pretty fucking jacked. Do you think he could pick up a skyscraper? Or the moon? Imagine picking up the moon. That would be absolutely insane.”

“Dave, my brother.” Roxy put a hand on your shoulder and put her other hand into a loose fist. “I will make that happen. I will make it so my coworker can lift the moon. I will break the laws of physics to do it.”

“I have no doubt you’ll be able to do it. Haven’t you already figured out how to basically bend space-time to go faster than the speed of light?”

“Something like that. It’s still a prototype though, so it’s not actually safe to use quite yet. But, when it is functional and safe, you’ll be the first to know!”

“Will I be able to go to Mars in it?”

“Probably not. But, you could if you got the training of an astronaut, but I really wouldn’t recommend going through with that unless you really, really want to go to space because it’s super hard to become an astronaut.”

“Yeah, I’ll just keep making GrubTube videos.” You said. “Also, we should probably actually get going if we want to get to dinner unless you want to stay in here and make instant ramen.”

“Please eat actual food, Dave.”

“I’m just joking with you.” You laughed somewhat. “I actually do make enough money from GrubTube to afford things that aren’t instant ramen. I actually have a few vegetables in my fridge.”

“Do you eat those vegetables?”

“Do you?”

Roxy squinted at you suspiciously before laughing.

“Of course I do, you doofus! My wife makes me.”

“Because you’re clearly not responsible enough to eat them yourself. Didn’t Callie try to become a ‘meatatarian’ at some point, though?”

“Yeah…” Roxy scratched the back of her head. “But that’s probably why she’s so adamant about people eating their vegetables nowadays. She knows why they’re important.”

“Nothing like scurvy to remind someone that eating their vegetables is important.” You then pointed towards the door. “Also, speaking of vegetables, we’ve just kind of stood here talking without actually making any sort of progress in terms of moving out the door to get food in our bodies, so we should maybe, probably ollie outie out of here.”

“Oh, yeah, right.”

The two of you manage to leave and go to a noodle place nearby. Because, clearly, that’s the best place to go to right after discussing how important vegetables are to one’s diet. Then again, the noodle place did have a shit ton of vegetarian options, so you were probably fine in the vegetable department.

“Wait, isn’t vitamin C the thing that causes you to have scurvy? Not vegetables?” Roxy questioned.

“Shit. I think you might be right. Call Callie right away. She needs to know so that she can cut down on as many vegetables as she wants.”

“She does need to eat vegetables though.” Roxy insisted. “I lied when she said she’s very adamant about people eating their veggies. She still politely complains every time I put some greens on her plate. Callie always eats them though, the sweetie.”

“How do you politely complain about something?”

“You eat everything except the vegetables on your plate, and then you grimace slightly before eating your vegetables.”

“I don’t think that counts as actually complaining.” You waved your arm around. “I think you might actually have to, I don’t know, say or, like, sign something in order for it to be considered actual complaining. Which reminds me, did Calliope ever manage to get a sign language class?”

“Oh, yeah! She did! You should have seen her face when she got to teach sign language. She was so happy. She babbled on for ages about how excited she was to see how happy other kids would be to finally be able to talk to other kids normally through their preferred form of communication.” Roxy had a dopey smile on her face. “She was so cute.”

“That’s awesome! I’m glad she was finally able to accomplish that. She’s been wanting to start up that class for years now, right?”

“Yeah. It took her a long time to do because the school board thought that there wouldn't be enough interest from the students, so she had to do this huge petition of students who said they would want to learn sign language from her.”

“Really? The school board really thought that no one would be interested in learning sign language?”

“I know, right?” Roxy said. “It's just, obsolute, I mean actulute, fuck, absolutely, absolutely absurd.”

“I can't see why you WOULDN'T want to learn sign language. It's like a secret language except it's not really a secret language. You can communicate with other people without sound! How awesome is that? I think that's super awesome and kick-ass, and I could honestly write, like, a fucking book on how awesome it is.”

“Going to follow in Rosey’s footsteps? Going to write the next great novel that's going to be read for generations to come?”

“Nah. That's not really my thing.” You shrugged. “That being said, I do actually have dreams and aspirations that are completely unrelated to my GrubTube channel, and, hence, my source of cash.”

“I hope you achieve your dreams at some point in the future. You mind me asking about them?”

“I mean, sure it's not like they're some kind of deeply kept secret or anything. I want to be a museum curator someday. No idea exactly how to go about doing that, but I've got some sort of vague idea how it's gonna go down.”

“Well, I spose you’re gonna need some dank ass artifacts.”

“Hella dank artifacts.” You agreed. “Just, like, an entire section on bones, and another on weird ass pottery, and yet another on how gay some dudes were. Maybe I can convince other museums to give me their weird shit. You know, all the stuff they keep in the back because it’d be too embarrassing to explain. Well, fuck that shit, I’m gonna be showing tatas left and right, and look at that! There’s a dick corner all the way over there, and a vagina area right next to it. In addition, here’s a couple of statues fucking because no one else wants to showcase them to the public because it’s too ‘obscene.’”

“Hell yeah. Stick it to those old farts who refuse to show off the old farts.” Roxy laughed, and you laughed with her.

“We’re going to have the oldest farts in the business! Everybody will get to see the old farts.”

“How’re you even going to get ancient farts? Are you going to find them in the depths of the Earth and then quickly find a jar to put the smell in the moment you get a whiff of those disgusting old farts?”

“Truly the best way to capture a fart is a mystery to most,” You decided to put on your best stereotypically pretentious voice. “But I have no doubt my team of explorers will find a way to do it.”

“Who does your team consist of? Who are these archaeologists that don't get nearly enough recognition by society?” Roxy responded in the most reporter-esque style she could muster.

“Well, first and foremost, I have my most kick-ass leader of this group, the one and only Aradia Megido, and she is, of course, accompanied by famous book writer, Rose Lalonde, who archives the findings.”

“Speaking of Rosey, should we have brought her to dinner with us?”

“I mean, we’re already basically done at this point so it's not like we could invite her. We can get her to come with us next time we go out.”

“We should also probably tell her that you're actually here. How do you want to go about doing that? Are. You gonna tell her over pesterchum or text message or something, or are you just gonna show up to her place and be like 'what’s up, I'm here.’”

“Uh,” Roxy thought for a moment. “I'm just gonna message her. So that I don't have to deal with questioning face to face.”

“That does seem to be the most logical course of action. You might want to do that asap, though. I would tell you to have done that before you even began coming over here, but you can’t exactly go back in time to do that. And, even if you could, you already would have done it because you would have gone back in time to tell yourself to message Rose. And, there’s also the issue with, like, paradoxes and alternate timelines, so there’s def the full possibility that you could have done that, but then when you come back to your timeline, the timeline where you told yourself to message Rose could be a different timeline from the one you’re in, so it wouldn’t have been worth it to even go back in time in the first place.”

“Oh, yeah, no time paradoxes here. None whatsoever. I’m just gonna travel into the future at one second per second like everybody else. Though, tbh, I wouldn’t really want time travel as a superpower. Seems too complicated. I’d much rather, like, appearify stuff from thin air, you know?”

“Oh, hell yeah that would be sick as shit. Personally, I would much rather do some timey shit. Like, yeah, it would be, like, super complicated, but whatever. I guess I would just have to take that risk. Figure out all those alt timelines or whatever. And you do your voidy shit.”

“We’d make a hella team.”

“We’d make an absolutely bitchin team, Rox. I could just do timey shit, and you could do your voidy shit. Honestly, I don’t really know how well that would go, but, like, theoretically, you could go into the void or some shit where my powers don’t reach, which would allow shit I don’t want to do timey stuff on to stay stationary in terms of time while everything else gets a time makeover.”

“Speaking of time, I think it’s time for us to go,” Roxy said, pointing a thumb towards the exit of the restaurant. “We’ve kinda been chatting for too long, and I think the people working here are getting annoyed by the fact that we’re taken up a table.”

“Oh, shit, you’re right. We should probably leave. Can’t be stealing and hogging this table all to ourselves. There are people who need to be fed, and we’ve already been fed.”

You both left the restaurant found yourselves right back at your place. You feel like you two could have gone somewhere else, but nope. You and Roxy plopped down on the couch in your room.

“You know, Davey, I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen your GrubTube channel. Care to show me a few of your vids?”

“Are you just procrastinating telling Rose that you arrived in town?”

“Maaaybe.”

“Goddamn it, Roxy. Just pester her already.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll allow myself to be vulnerable to her wrath. She will be the reason for my untimely doom. It will be an eternity before she forgives me for my slight against her. Me! A lowly peasant in her kingdom of prose, unable to escape the confines of vice. Even though I kinda did. I’ve been sober for five years, and I’m, like, hella proud of myself for that, but we’re working within the box of the metaphor, and I’m tryin to be as dramatic as possible.”

"Lamenting about your supposed doom won't do anything to stop it from coming," You mention. "Also, I'm hella proud of you too for being sober for five years. That's a huge fucking achievement, and you deserve recognition for that. You should get, like, a fucking medal or some shit."

"I know, right? Five fucking years! I should at least get a certificate."

"Maybe I could forge one. Just be like, 'This certificate is proof that Roxy Lalonde has been sober for five fucking years.' That's exactly what it will say, curse words and all because I don't know how to make a sentence without adding a curse word in the middle of it. This is exactly why I should never have kids. Can you even imagine? Little five-year-olds going off into kindergarten and getting in a shit ton of trouble because they said 'Fuck you' to little Suzy. But it'll be for a good reason, like little Suzy was pulling on some other kid's pigtails, and my kid jumped in like a fucking hero, but they're gonna be swearing up a storm while they do it." You push up your shades because they started falling off your face with the amount of moving around and gesturing you just did in that long hypothetical situation. "Anyway, you should message Rose. I'll even cheer you on as you do it."

"Ugh! Fine!" Roxy got out her phone and started typing up a storm. You're pretty sure you've never met anyone who can type or text faster than Roxy. It was actually pretty fucking impressive. It also probably had something to do with the fact that she was a programmer and hacker.

"How's Rose taking it?" You ask, wondering exactly how long it will take for Roxy to properly deal with the damage that came with informing Rose that she's in town only after actually arriving in town.

"About as well as expected. This might take a while." Roxy winced as if Rose was yelling at her in person. "A long while."

"I'll find someone to talk to then." You went over to your computer and spun a mental wheel as to who you should talk to.

-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] --

TG: john TG: bro TG: were you informed of the fact that the one the only roxy lalonde is in town TG: she has decided to grace us with her presence TG: and we should be eternally grateful TG: also did you know that shes been sober for five years TG: fucking TG: five whole years TG: thats amazing TG: john TG: john TG: i know your online it hasnt given me that goddamn popup yet TG: john TG: johnathan TG: johnny TG: john TG: johnathan edison egbert TG: jk i know you have more than one middle name TG: edisons the only one i remember tho TG: john TG: john TG: who are you talking to right now TG: you could just tell me who youre talking too TG: or did you like TG: leave the computer and forget to say you were offline TG: that would be a dumb as shit thing to do TG: especially since the new update literally does it for you if youre gone for long enough TG: which means you couldnt have been gone for long TG: john

EB: and my full name is john edison sam sebastian october egbert. EB: just so you know!

TG: what really TG: one of your middle names is october

EB: no, i was pulling your leg on that one. EB: it's actually ian.

TG: so john edison sam sebastian ian egbert TG: thats a mouthful TG: and the initials spell out another name

EB: i could go by jessie in secret. EB: and it will just my full name's initials. EB: and it technically wouldn't be a lie if i said it was my name.

TG: in what possible context would you use a fake name and need to sound convincing enough to say it was your real name

EB: you never know what kind of situations you could be in! EB: also it makes for a great joke in my comedy sketches.

TG: what are you just going around making a joke about how your name spells another name

EB: pretty much!

TG: well shit TG: also when is your new special gonna come out on netflix TG: i been watching out for it but im still just human TG: subject to the desires of the shows netflix decides to have

EB: i think it should come out in about a month or two. EB: although it's probably closer to two if netflix isn't showing the release date for it.

TG: damnit TG: and here i was looking forward to sitting on a couch with roxy and laughing at your jokes

EB: oh! EB: is roxy in town?

TG: yeah pretty sure i mentioned that at the start of this convo

EB: i don't exactly always read your walls of text, dave.

TG: wow john im so hurt TG: not really TG: its understandable TG: anyway rox is telling rose that shes actually in town TG: which she neglected to do beforehand

EB: oh no!

TG: oh yes TG: apparently rose is pissed TG: probably because she wasnt able to go all out in welcoming roxy to town TG: but then again thats kinda what roxy wants to avoid TG: shes pretty lowkey you know

EB: yeah. EB: that sounds more like something they need to talk about though!

TG: fuck yeah they do TG: theyve got different boundaries TG: rox prefers smaller gestures TG: and rose likes to be loud and proud about shit TG: both are fine but they tend to clash because of it

EB: yeah :/ EB: should we intervene somehow? EB: make sure they've got plenty of time to talk it out? EB: maybe over tea or whatever. EB: i know rose has been dying to do some sort of tea party.

TG: fuck yeah TG: that sounds like a great idea TG: actually i should encourage rose to put into action the tea party TG: knowing her shes been lamenting about it for fucking ever TG: and isnt actually going to do it until shes pushed to TG: even though she really wants to

EB: she's gotten better at that sort of thing though! EB: like that girl she's dating! EB: what was her name?

TG: oh yeah kanaya TG: shes chill

EB: yeah! EB: rose managed to ask her out, right?

TG: yep pretty sure it was rose who did the asking out

EB: that means she's probably getting better at getting what she wants to get. EB: so that means she's that much closer to throwing a fancy party where we all have to wear suits.

TG: that might be the reason why she was so adamant about me getting a suit TG: cant be going to a fancy as fuck party in a tshirt and skinny jeans like some kind of jackass

EB: isn't that your entire aesthetic?

TG: no TG: maybe TG: just a little bit TG: but i gotta be a jackass in style john TG: i cant be a jackass at a party in a tshirt and jeans TG: i gotta be the jackass in the obnoxious red suit that you can see from a mile away TG: and also wearing those douchebag shades because thats just part of the strider style

EB: sounds like youve got this entire thing figured out. EB: but we cant forget to actually get roxy and rose to talk to each other!

TG: right of course that is the number one mission TG: unless they're already talking about it TG: roxy seems to be going at her phone keyboard like she has a personal vendetta against it TG: then we can all just have a good time at the party in roses fucking mansion that she doesnt need TG: why does she even have a mansion TG: why is it only twenty minutes away from my modest place TG: why does she keep it meticulously cleaned TG: actually i dont know that last part

EB: i don't think i've actually ever been to rose's place! EB: i've only seen it when picking her up for something.

TG: maybe she has something that is secret in there TG: like the gods of the void

EB: or maybe she just bought a mansion as some sort of passive-aggressive statement.

TG: yeah that sounds like her TG: she probably houses a bunch of homeless people there to spit the government and the rich people in the neighborhood TG: im surprised her lawn isnt a mess to protest the idea that dandelions are weeds

EB: we could always ask her what she does with her mansion!

TG: one of us should make a mental note to ask her about that TG: or at the very least investigate when she inevitably throws a fancy ass party there

EB: do you think she would buy all the people living there fancy suits and dresses

TG: i have no doubt of it

EB: well, this was a great conversation, but i have to go soon! EB: i've got new comedy sketches to write, and i have no idea what i'm doing, so it's going to take a while.

TG: completely understandable TG: have fun writing all that

EB: we should talk again soon! EB: i'll even tell you all about my secret comedy sketches!

TG: holy shit an egbert original TG: hasnt even seen the light of day original TG: it will be my lucky day when that happens

EB: well, see ya, dave!

TG: bye bye john

-- ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] --

"Hey! Roxy! Have you gotten anywhere in your conversation with Rose?"

"Uh, no, sorry, Dave. Me and Rosey are having a long discussion about boundaries, which we probably should have had, like, a really long time ago. Who were you talking to?"

"John. He needed to leave to work on his comedy sketches though. I might message Jade next if you're still busy."

"Yep. Still hella busy."

"That's all good. Take your time. You are a guest here."

"Thanks, Davey."

"No problemo." You returned back to your computer.

-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering gardenGnostic [GG] --

TG: yo jade TG: whats up

GG: the usual GG: weve been getting some progress in building the car ai though! GG: i swear ive talked to so many rubber ducks GG: so many GG: i feel like we need a rubber duck the size of a building GG: everything goes wrong GG: but now less is going wrong so thats good!!!

TG: thats so fucking awesome TG: im afraid i dont know about the rubber ducks though

GG: theyre basically a sounding board GG: you know GG: something goes wrong in the code so you talk to the duck until you realize whats wrong with the code

TG: that makes perfect sense but why a rubber duck

GG: no idea GG: might have something to do with the fact that they are common and fairly easy to manufacture GG: but theoretically one could do it with another person or a stuffed animal or whatever GG: although a person might not be the best for it

TG: why not

GG: some of us have a tendency to throw the rubber duck really hard when we are particularly frustrated by the code GG: or mad that we didnt realize the mistake in the code because it was so goddamn obvious

TG: yeah i guess you would want to avoid throwing people at the wall unless they were a complete and utter douche

GG: oh no you dont throw those people GG: you just punch them GG: its faster GG: i would say shoot them but murder is illegal

TG: also the entire thing with guns

GG: yeah GG: i love guns but at the same time GG: there should definitely be restrictions on them! GG: there is a reason why babies should not duel wield flintlock pistols!!!!!!!!!!

TG: yeah no TG: dont give infants flintlock pistols TG: or any guns for that matter TG: your grandpa was kind of crazy

GG: :/ GG: he was GG: also he doesnt believe in gun control

TG: yikes

GG: pretty much GG: so, what about you? GG: hows your life going?

TG: roxy has come over but shes currently telling rose that shes in town TG: you know TG: after not informing her that she was going to be in town previously

GG: oh no!!!

TG: yeah thats what john said too

GG: no one really wants to face roses wrath GG: shes very scary when shes angry!!! GG: :(

TG: mood TG: yeah nobody wants to be within twenty feet of rose when shes pissed TG: but i think roxy has passed the angry part and has reached the part where they are having a conversation about boundaries

GG: thats good!!! GG: is there anything else thats going on?

TG: no really TG: kind of just been sitting inside and doing grubtube videos TG: the usual TG: you know TG: i feel like i need to do something more exciting for my videos TG: at least to celebrate hitting like a shit ton of subscribers

GG: you could have a guest star or something like that

TG: you mean just like ask one of my friends if theyd like to join a video

GG: yeah!!! GG: you just have to find someone whod be comfortable with it

TG: would you be

GG: no not really GG: im a little paranoid about having my face on the internet GG: my instagram doesnt even show my face at all and i keep it private!!

TG: i see your point TG: its completely understandable TG: i will be sure to ask someone else TG: like roxy or john TG: john or karkat actually would be a good choice TG: like karkat wrote the rant that made my channel super popular TG: it was already popular but the rant made it extra popular TG: so a kind of interview with him would be cool TG: and netflix is apparently gonna release johns new thing soon TG: so it could be kind of a promotion thing for both him and me TG: john would probably be chill with it TG: karkat on the other hand TG: probably not TG: he seems like the kind of guy who would try to hide his face anytime someone took a photo of him

GG: hes actually pretty photogenic!!!

TG: what really

GG: yeah! GG: he might actually accept to be in a grubtube video GG: but depending on the content he might not GG: but like GG: based on his distaste for your channel GG: i would at least wait until the two of you have a better relationship with each other

TG: point taken TG: john it is TG: might as well ask roxy just because shes currently in my house TG: just do an impromptu collab video TG: actually im probably gonna ask her about it right now TG: granted that shes done with her conversation with rose TG: she probably is because ive had two super long conversations with people

GG: good luck with the celebrating your subscriber count!!!

TG: good luck with your ai programs TG: pester you later

GG: bye!!! GG: :)

-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering gardenGnostic [GG] --

"Hey, Roxy! How's that conversation with Rose going? I'm not, like, expecting you to be completely done or anything, but I am wondering about how far you are into that conversation about boundaries and shit."

"Oh, yeah, we finished that convo ages ago. We started talking about the motifs in the newest book of our fav wizarding series."

"So, everything's good?"

"It's all good."

[crookedspoonfic]

WIP Week Day #6

Your AU WIP.

Not like most wips I posted haven’t already been AUs.

Fandom: The Raven Cycle Characters/Pairings: Kavinsky/Ronan, Declan  Rating: T for UST Word Count: 2,255

I have probably rewritten this part 24 times and will likely rewrite aspects 2-3 more times, because the Cabeswater mention was shoehorned in and that’s why the mood is all over the place. 

It’s the current first scene of my childhood friends AU that isn’t adding up so far. But @neurotoxia​ said it does at least have potential, and after all the time she spent listening to me rant about it, I owe it to her to finish.

@owltrocious​ - this is part of the 8k thing I mentioned a while ago, on the off chance you’re interested in possibly overwritten snippets. And with snippers I mean chapter-long excerpts.

Henrietta's early morning scenery is a stunning mixture of lush green grasses glinting with a kaleidoscope of dewdrops, sun slanting off the reddish rooftops, and trees waving lazily in the breeze. Too bad this natural beauty is overshadowed by your mood going to school. You can think of a dozen activities you'd rather be doing – dishes and laundry among them – than entering the tedium that is Aglionby.

Yet you promised Gansey, and some moronic honorable code dictates you be true to your word. Sometimes being unable to lie is a huge pain in the ass, but it's still a point of pride for you.

You pull into the parking lot. At the edge of the campus you spot a lone figure hunching in the shade behind the buildings. As you park, someone slinks around the corner, hunched and nervous. You imagine greetings and other things to be exchanged: there's a quick sweep of the area, a clasping of hands, a friendly cuff on the shoulder, then the newcomer hurries away.

You haven't seen Kavinsky on school grounds for weeks, but then again, your own attendance record is not a stellar example of punctuality and sticktoitiveness. He may well have been here when you weren't, and there's no way to tell unless you asked around, which you damn well are not going to do. It doesn't interest you. Nor does it matter.

Still, his presence draws you in like a current, despite your resentment and your insistence on avoiding him during daylight hours. He's a different creature then, at once too strange and too familiar, a grown-up version of the boy you used to chase over the green meadows stretching out beyond the Barns.

He looks all wrong now.

You prefer to encounter him at night, when the darkness obscures the angles of his face and the alcohol makes it light up from within. It's easier then to ignore the loss of innocence – not that he ever had much to begin with, but there used to be a boyish side to him that got excited about more than just self-destruction.

As ridiculous as it sounds, you still miss the old him, the one you flew kites with, built mud castles with, ditched homework with in favor of playing in the fields till evening yawned into night, this scarecrow of a boy, all stick-limbs and sinew, yet with a softness about him you're beginning to think must have been imaginary. There's no way this sharp-boned skeleton you're approaching is the same boy you used to tussle with, tip cows over with, lie in the grass and dream together with.

You'd rather avoid him after your fight this weekend. But you promised Gansey.

His mouth splits into a sickle grin when he sees you, the neutral one he flashes everybody, regardless of what business they have with him. You're not special anymore.

"Dickhead," he greets you, and it's the friendliest he's been in a while.

"Shit-for-brains," you shoot back.

"What brings you here?" It's almost lewd, the way he sucks on his cigarette, and your eye tics because of how much you want to punch him for making your eyes wander to his lips. "Need some love potion for your girlfriend? Think that get him to finally let you screw him?"

By way of reply, you slam his back against the wall. It doesn't faze him. He just laughs in your face.

"My bad. Of course you'd let him screw you." He tips his head in defiance and the glint of his sunglasses blind you.

"I'm not here to talk about Gansey." This close, you catch more than a whiff of his knife-like aftershave under the cloud of weed and cigarette smoke. It, too, is less repulsive at night, when it had hours to disperse or mix with exhaust fumes. Sometimes you wonder if he's trying to mask the rot that has infested him, if he even notices how far it has spread.

"But you would let him screw you," he laughs at you again and it is grating. "There's no shame in this, you know. If either of you have performance issues, you can tell me, I'll help you sort it out."

"I said, that's not what I'm here to talk about. Are you deaf as well as stupid?"

"Okay, okay, I'll bite," he says and snaps his teeth. "What are you here to talk about?"

Your fingers tighten around the lapels of his school uniform. "Cabeswater," you say, because that's a conversation you still need to have, one he's been refusing to have, and you're running out of time.

He rolls his eyes ostentatiously and lets his head thud against the brick behind him. "Don't you ever quit? I already told you no."

"No is not an option."

"It's gotta be, because that's the one I'm going with."

"Don't be that way, asshole. I'm not telling you to quit, I'm asking you to help me figure out how to make it safe. It used to be, man, and I'm sure it can be again."

He's staring at you for a while, eyebrows scrunched together behind his sunglasses and lips slightly pursed. He sucks in his bottom lip and chews on it.

"Want to stock up for tonight?" he asks finally, but you barely catch the sounds coming out of his mouth.

"What?"

That's not the answer you've been expecting. Or the question.

It's been a while since he invited you in person. Most of the time you just went, like everyone else, but unlike everyone else, you don't cluster around him like a swarm of flies. You don't need his attention. You have it anyway, in a sort of negative, I know you're there but I'm waiting to see what you'll do sort of way, unless he decides to give you the time of day – or night.

You hate how sometimes being at his parties feels like begging.

He was yours before he decided for whatever shit reason that you weren't good enough anymore and started hanging out with other people. You're still sore about that. You fucking used to dream together, build things together, an entire world of dreams, but now he seems to be content with providing his cronies with all the pills and weed and booze they can ever need or want? Fucking waste, if there ever was one.

"You're coming, right?"

"I've got better things to do," you sneer and immediately regret it. If he's offering you a chance to talk to him, you ought to take it.

"Such as Gansey, I know, I know." He slaps his palm on your head and rubs his thumb over your buzz cut. It makes you dangerously aware of how close you are and how deliberately he has been derailing the conversation. "I'm sure if you ask nicely enough, he'll take you himself. Making sure to keep a tight leash on you. How do you put up with the chafing, anyway?"

"None of your concern."

"C'mon, just ask him to take you for a walk. I'm sure no one would be surprised to find you on all fours beside dear old Dick."

"Fuck off." Your fuse is dangerously close to blowing. You jam his shoulders harder into the wall behind him.

"That's cute, coming from the asshole accosting me when I was minding my own business."

Before you remember to pull his hand away, his fingers smooth down your head to clamp around the back of your neck. And just like that you're transfixed, unable to move when he pulls you in, crushes your nose against his shoulder and his cheek against yours where his stupid sunglasses dig into your flesh, and all you feel is skin and heat and an elevated pulse that's rushing him to an early grave. Your own pulse is not far behind.

"Be there tonight," he murmurs so his breath plays about your earlobe and you shiver. "And bring me something fun."

With his other hand, he presses something small and rounded into your palm. You don't need to look to know it's one of his dream pills. You have an assortment of them hidden away in a drawer; you prefer to go about dreaming your tried and true way.

"On the house." He folds your fingers over it and leans close as if kissing the air above your scabbed knuckles.

Something turns over like an engine in your chest, or maybe your head, because not a single thought sparks and all you can focus on are his goddamn pretty lips – which he must have noticed too, because he's raising his shades from his nose and he's grinning in a way that would signal danger if you had your wits about you, but you don't, and the bruise around his eye has faded since the weekend, and before you know it you're touching it, your palm against his cheek, your thumb brushing over his discolored skin, his fingers curling over your wrist, dipping into the cuff of your uniform, tickling the sensitive skin there, and you're certain that if you don't stop this right now, he'll twist the moment like a knife in your gut, unthinking and inevitable, just as that last time, when he ruined what friendship was left between you and gave you no choice but to push him away completely.

Maybe you thought you could salvage something that way, or maybe you were just trying to save your skin.

"Still a chickenshit?" he asks, nose brushing yours, mouth a hair's breadth from your own. You don't appreciate the reminder, but what the hell, you've been living with the consequences of it every day.

Is this your chance at a do-over?

Off to your side, someone coughs politely.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Your first instinct is to shove Kavinsky away, as if that would undo the past minute and a half; your second is to freeze where you stand because fuck, this is Declan. Your own brother saw you nearly make out with your childhood friend. God Jesus Mary fucking shit, he's going to think you're jealous or something.

Kavinsky just settles back against the wall as if nothing at all had been happening, as if his fingers weren't still burning on your wrist, as if Declan were just another desperate fuck willing to sell his soul for whatever services Kavinsky provides.

"Not if you plan on joining in," he says, bold as brass.

Declan smiles thinly, but his eyes are on you. You're aware of the fire in your cheeks, how your brother can't miss it. "That's not exactly how I planned on spending my free period."

"Let me guess," Kavinsky surmises with a dirty grin. "You need another batch of blue pills to please your latest lady friend, am I right?"

Your lips compress. The jab at Declan's promiscuity ticks you off. There's something those two can talk about. They were fucking made for each other.

You rip your hand free and turn around; whatever their body language is about to betray, you don't want to find out. "I was leaving anyway."

Before you can, however, Declan pulls you aside. His voice is perfectly fucking neutral when he says, "Stay away from him. He's not your friend anymore."

Anger flashes hot inside you, blood pounding in your ears. Your face grows hotter still. It pisses you off how effortlessly Declan can pretend to be unaffected by what he'd just witnessed. It pisses you off how he doesn't care that you might have been encroaching on his territory. It pisses you off how he's so goddamn casual about his sex life, like none of his partners matter to him.

It pisses you off that you have these thoughts at all. This wasn't what you bargained for at all.

Fuck Declan and fuck Kavinsky, too.

"Don't worry. He's all yours."

With that, you stalk off, heart in a snarl of anger, ache and annoyance. When you piss off your brother, you want it to be on your terms, not a crazy happenstance that brought you all together in one place.

Kavinsky must have been trying to stop you, because Declan tells him to leave you alone. You're not sure how you feel about Kavinsky listening to him.

"Don't forget tonight," Kavinsky calls after you.

You flip them both off over your shoulder.

But with you out of the picture, they've already moved on to other topics. You've been in their way the entire time.

"So, you do want me all to yourself," you hear Kavinsky say. "I get it. Okay, shoot. What can I do for you, handsome?"

"Don't," Declan hisses. "Not on campus."

The rest of their conversation is lost in the rustling of the leaves overhead. You keep your gaze resolutely in front of you. You don't want to turn around and see your brother finishing what you started.

Your insides are boiling. You don't know what you're most furious about: the fact that Kavinsky still hasn't agreed to stay away from Cabeswater, that you nearly fell prey to him, or the fact that your brother interrupted your nearly falling prey to Kavinsky.

That you wanted to fall prey to him.

School is out of the question now. Sorry, Gansey. You can't show your face near him anymore, not before you haven't wrung a promise from Kavinsky and certainly not in this state. You need an outlet for your growling anger, preferably one that includes smashing things to pieces.

Here's a thought: maybe you are jealous.

[rxbxlcaptain]

RebelCaptain Fan Fiction Recs!

I know everyone and their father's brother's nephew's cousin's former roommate has done a Fan Fiction rec, but I wanted to get some of my favorites out there! This is going to be a long post, so bear with me. (I tried to find as many of the author’s Tumblrs if I can, but sometimes I couldn’t! Let me know if I missed them!)

Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies AU

I Know What Everything’s For by @wearesuchstuff1 (T) --  Cassian comes back after a mission to find that Jyn has gone AWOL. He doesn't know why she left, but he knows he has to find her. 

The Danger Is I’m Dangerous and I Might Just Tear You Apart by @youareiron-andyouarestrong (T) -- Here is a slightly uncomfortable fact that Cassian would rather not have become public knowledge: He has such a thing for watching Jyn fight. He's also fairly helpless when it comes to surprise kisses.

Like a Warm Blanket by @wedge-antilles-feelings (G) --  Cassian is clingy when he's sick. Jyn tries to keep a stiff upper lip in the face of how much she loves him.

Under These Starlit Skies by @dasakuryo (T) --  “Yell, scream, say something,” Cassian says. He has asked her a really important question, and yet Jyn can't bring herself to utter an answer. // [In which Jyn is confronted with the fact there's a future past the war, but it's up to her to choose what, and who, that future will entail.]

Remastered by @lafayette1777​ (T) -- There are many ways to die. Incidentally, there are also many ways to disappear. Or: Jyn discovers life to be far more troublesome than death.

Glory Days by @lafayette1777​ (T) --  For Jyn and Cassian, the crawl back from Scarif is a beginning difficult to fathom. Something, however, is bound to rise from the ashes.

Flight Lessons by @ignitethestars (M) -- “One hundred percent of the crashes I have experienced involved you, Jyn Erso.” K2 informs her pleasantly. “Given that no other flight experience I've been involved in has experienced an abrupt descent, I can only conclude that you - oh. You're bleeding." Or, Jyn is slightly impaled and Cassian sees to her wound. Emotions are had.

Beinahe by guineapiggie (T) -- They've no right to feel alive, because they've no right to be alive. They deserved death just as much as everyone else on Scarif, but they've made it out of there when no one else has, and that's not right. And so she lets him go, for the thousandth time, and finds herself longing for that beach. She doesn't have the strength to tell herself off for that anymore. (If she had to choose a word for Cassian Andor, it's almost.) Surviving Scarif and leaving Scarif are two very different things. 

Weary Bones and Anxious Heart by @leralynne (G) --  Jyn is definitely not sick, and Cassian is definitely not nervous about it, and they are both handling the situation with the utmost maturity.

Different First Meeting

When We Were Young and Crossed the Stars by @leralynne​ (G) -- He tells her he’s been given his own ship, his choice of his own crew. When she asks who he’ll be picking, he cocks his head at her. “You and K, of course,” he says, like he can’t believe she’s even asking the question when she’s been griping about it for almost six years. Jyn and Cassian meet as children caught up in the rebellion and grow up together.

Canon Compliant

Horizon Bright with Light by @venusmelody​ (T) -- Street fighter; thief; smuggler. Cassian relied on her type every day to bring him news, though they were not usually Imperial prisoners nor children of infamous Imperial scientists, and because of that, he knew what to expect.Five times Cassian makes up or changes his mind about Jyn Erso, and one he doesn't. 

Personal Effects by Mosylu (T) --  Spies travel light. Even so, Cassian Andor left things behind.

You Were My New Home by @leralynne (T) -- She surprises herself with the force of the want in her. She’s only known him a few weeks—and he’s gruff, and secretive, and single-minded to a dangerous degree—but he’s the first person in a long time she’s had any real ties to. And yes, his loyalty is not to her so much as it is to the cause she’s now a part of. But for now, he’s just a little bit hers in a way that no one else has been for a very, very long time. Before they can meet with Saw Gerrera, they have to find Saw Gerrera, and that takes time. On the search, Jyn and Cassian grow closer.

Modern AU

A Little Hope by guineapiggie (G) --  His eyes wander around the sunny lawn and linger on a group of girls lounging on a blanket, surrounded by textbooks. One of them is lying on her back, her brown hair spilling over the hideous tartan pattern. She’s reading aloud in a dramatic voice from some kind of play, desperately trying – and failing – to keep a straight face. It’s quite possibly the cutest thing he’s seen in at least a week. “And that, my friend,” the dry voice of Jonathan Kay says into his ear, “is the exact wrong direction to be staring into. The girl reading The Merchant of Venice for fun? That’s Jyn Erso. Her father’s said to be in line for the Nobel prize in physics, she’s a straight-A student, top of Bodhi’s martial art class, and quite frankly a harpy.” Kay sighs and picks up his bag. “Basically, she manages to be both Stratford sisters at once.”

Fish and Chips or Chilaquiles? by @justkeeponthegrass (G) --  Jyn and Cassian are opening a food truck in Miami because why the hell not? Kay, however, is not pleased.

Emergency Contact by @justkeeponthegrass (G) --  When Jyn Erso wakes up in a hospital after getting shot, the last person she has expected to see at her beside is her ex-husband, Cassian Andor.

NSFW

Find Me by @lifeauthoredbymusic (M for sexual content) -- Everyone’s going to think they had sex in the elevator. His colleagues are never going to shut up about this. Han will be smirking, and Leia will make sly jokes and Bodhi—Bodhi will be the worse because he knows the whole story, apparently. The FBI’s finest, his colleagues. Eight years after Jyn walks out of Cassian's life, they meet again in an elevator. Cassian can handle the thirty seconds, maybe a minute, until they get to the ground floor. If he closes his eyes tight enough, he can pretend she's not even there. So, of course, the elevator has to break down. (Or: the one where Jyn and Cassian have to hash out eight years of angst and UST in an elevator.)

Behind Closed Doors, Your Hands in Mine by @leralynne (E for sexual content) --  It keeps happening—his hands on her body, his lips on her skin. It’s strange, and rather wonderful, but they never talk about it. Jyn kind of wishes they would.

Cast Some Light & You’ll Be All Right by @brynnmclean (E for sexual content) -- Cassian has had so little opportunity over the years to be gentle. He wants to be gentle with Jyn. Or, the one where Cassian doesn't like one-sided sex and Jyn isn't used to having a partner who wants to make time for her.

I Don’t Care If Heaven Won’t Take Me Back by gingergenower (E for Graphic descriptions of violence) -- Cassian's compromised and kidnapped on a routine mission, taken by a crime mob working with the Empire. The Alliance orders Jyn to cut and run because too many lives would be lost failing to save him.As is her nature, she goes rogue.

Turn Down The Lights by ginnyweasleys (E for sexual content) -- He’s pretty sure this is not what his superior officers had in mind when they asked him to make contact with Saw Gerrera’s band of rebels.(there's two sides to every rebellion and cassian enjoys being tied up in jyn's bed too much.)

WIPs

Paper Jam by Iolaire (T) --  Modern-AU GradSchool!verse in which Cassian is a jaded PhD candidate in his sixth year and Jyn keeps breaking the printer. With a department under scrutiny, an advisor like Davits Draven, and a rival like Orson Krennic, will Cassian *ever* graduate?

Resistance is Built on Hope by @chronicolicity (T) -- Rebelcaptain WWII AU. The year is 1940, and Europe is at war. Jyn Erso keeps her head down, apart from the occasional brushes with the law. She doesn’t care about flags or countries or sides or allegiances. She’s been on her own for a good, long time, and she won’t fight for anyone except herself. So when she gets into trouble in German-occupied France, she doesn’t expect anyone’s help – least of all a so-called rescue party spearheaded by the Resistance, who break her out in order to make an offer that promises to change her life forever. Her father is a scientist working for Germany, and with his help, they have the potential and capacity to inflict untold damage using a new weapon. He needs to be found, and Captain Cassian Andor thinks she’s the one to do it. A story of Rogue One characters coming together during a world war, under different (but hopefully interesting) circumstances. 

This Is The Fate You’ve Carved On Me by @coppermarigolds (T) -- Jyn is four years old when it appears on the inside of her left arm: a long, twisting tangle of flowing lines and blocky symbols.“Look,” she says, holding out her arm to her father. “What’s that, Papa?”He grasps her wrist, tugging her arm out straight. His fingers are gentle as always, but the smile disappears from his face. For a long time he’s silent, his eyes moving across her arm and back, over and over again, until Jyn starts to squirm in his grip.“Shh, Stardust,” he says. He tears his eyes from her arm and looks back to her face. He’s smiling, but something about it doesn’t seem right. It’s not his normal Papa smile, the one that makes her feel all warm and safe inside.

Whatever I Do (I Do It To Protect You) by @callioope (T) -- When Orson Krennic landed on Lah’Mu, Lyra Erso made a choice. She chose her daughter.Now they move from planet to planet, identity to identity, rebel cell to rebel cell, until they wind up at the center of the rebellion.

It’s Always Only Ever Been by NeonDaisies (NR) --  With the rise of the Emperor the practice of searching out soulmates has become a fading tradition as the day to day basics of survival grow more important in a galaxy gearing up towards civil war. However, that doesn't mean the Force won't carry your messages to your soulmate if you just write them down.

Floating, Sinking by @shu-of-the-wind (NR) -- Somewhere in her is the sinking feeling that they weren't supposed to survive. [Jyn's not entirely sure how they lived. She just knows that they did. She's not sure how the Rebellion lost the plans, either, but she has half a plan to fix that. Maybe. Mon Mothma has other ideas.] [Post-Rogue One. Runs through A New Hope. Eventual Rebelcaptain.]

 Series

The Germans Wore Grey, You Wore Blue by @justkeeponthegrass --  The many different lives of Cassian Andor and Jyn Erso during the Second World War.

and i can see for miles, miles, miles by @ofhouseadama -- An “Everyone Lives” Series featuring Jyn and Cassian fighting to survive the rebellion

you hold noting but the sun by @justkeeponthegrass --  Jyn and Cassian do not cross paths while the Alliance searches for Liana Hallik. But in many ways, it feels like they do.

Worst Kept Secret In The Rebellion by PastyPirate -- Jyn and Cassian survive Scarif and wander their way through the Rebellion together (because you can never have too many of those)

[yabbyabb]

Heres  a go at my OC masterlist!

Fan OCs

Fallout

Dixie- a young ghoul who’s age seems to be around 10. Extremely curious, adventurous, and imaginative, though naive with youth. She does not talk about her past, since she grew up an orphan “adopted” by cruel scavengers who abused her and eventually left her for dead in the glowing sea. After escaping and living on her own for a few years, she met Hatch who has truly adopted her as well as others who she considers family. Works as a courier around the wasteland, and loves any Nuka Cola- especially Quantum and Cherry! 

Hatch Hutton- fairly new ghoul who travels around the commonwealth as an easygoing, laid back musician. He’s never seen without his straw boater, wrapped hands/ gloves, and his guitar. Hatch is very empathetic, helpful and kind, wanting only to spread smiles and ease some of the hardships people face in the wasteland with his music. Like Dixie, he does not talk about his past and quickly dismisses any questions regarding his injured hands. He is currently in a very loving relationship with Vomer (@dunesand), to whom he’s engaged.

Quinn Dugell- My SoSu, who did not have a son like in game. She was engaged to her fiance before the bombs dropped, but she was killed through the cryopod malfunction. Quinn stumbled around the wasteland in a daze and in shock at first, but quickly adjusted to her new life by killing raider scum. Personality wise, Quinn is fun loving, sarcastic, laid back, and doesnt take things too seriously. She viewed her new life in the wasteland like a fresh start, and has little to no inhibitions. She also REALLY loves puns/mom/dad humor, and is a skilled sniper. Romanced Hancock and Curie in game, and is BFFs with Deacon and Nick. 

Donald Hutton- Hatch Huttons infamous, sleezy, greasy brother. Back in the good old days when Donald and Hatch were still humans, they traveled around as a performing duo. Donald has had strong vocals, while Hatch played the guitar/did backup vocals. Hatch is also very attached to his guitar because it was the one that him and Donald built together, and is a reminder of what Donald used to be like for Hatch. But then their mother fell ill, Donald became in debt with the raiders, and secretly sold himself and Hatch as slaves to pay for it, leading to the worst 2 years of their life- as well as turning into ghouls. Now that hes not only a ghoul, but a glowing GREEN ghoul, Donald makes a living in the wasteland by working under Mercury (@amummy) for her drug cartel and being a general informant by selling information. Hes a tease, a dog, and loves money and drugs/booze. He doesnt sing anymore due to holding a grudge against Hatch (found in their detailed backstory) and also through self hatred of what he did. He might sing again one day though, through lots of convincing. 

Bones- a new addition to the raider group called the Strangers (@ohmdo), Bones is a pre-war ghoul who is a wiz when it comes to hacking and coding and is a stealthy scout. Bones himself very rarely shows his face that he hides under his mask, but his personality is far less intimidating than his looks. He jokes about everything and is honestly kind of lazy, unless something piques his interest. He is neutral about pretty much everything, though can turn pretty serious and intimidating in a split second. Hes very good buddies Krip (@surke). 

Thorn- a 3rd gen/human hybrid who takes her job as Steph’s (@lemonlulz) bodyguard and right hand gal. Thorn is a deadly assassin/merc who utilizes her heavily modified syringe rifle, sting, as well as an assortment of poisons and chemicals to take care of her enemies. Since Steph runs an all girl raider group, Thorn is also a member and protects her comrades fiercely. Not much is known about Thorn aside from her serious, quiet, and lethal personality. She has a high interest in plants and science, due to her background. She has a sister, Calico, who she is low key looking for.

Fire Emblem 

Miyoshi “Miyo”- An unusual Basara who loves to fight and roughhouse. Miyo joined the service under the Hoshido family from a young age, and fell under Hinoka’s ranks. Though she is short tempered and hot headed/zealous, Miyo also loves and values meditation and focus. She has a longtime close friendship to Nobu (@dunesand) who constantly act like bickering young siblings though considers family and protects at all cost. Miyoshi is head over heels for Kagero, who she’s dating. 

Dragon Age

Fiiris Lavellan- Anxiety ridden with low self esteem and self worth, Fiiris is forced to join the Inquisition due to her mark, much to her horror. She is very reluctant and not at all confident in herself in the first part of the game, and tries often to push the responsibility she didnt want onto her advisors. But during the game, she slowly grows to have confidence in herself and in her skills/intuition, as well as getting help from her close friends she makes. By the end of the game, she is a highly skilled Rift mage who is a force to be reckoned with though she still has hints of her anxiety and humble personality. Shes very sweet, caring, shy, and loves Halla. Her closest friend is Cole, quickly followed by Varric and Josephine. I have two different files for her where she romances Bull and Cullen. 

Orianna Cousland- My Grey Warden who is the fierce Queen of Ferelden, alongside her husband Alistair. She is similar to Miyo- short tempered, loves to fight, and loves to help people in need. A nimble rogue with the Duelist spec, she hates nobles especially after dealing with Howe. Even though shes Queen, she doesnt act like it- but in all honesty she uses her royalty to get away with some wild stuff lmao. Is off finding a cure to the blight to save her and Alistair. Her mabari pupper is named Meatball. 

Rillan Lavellan- Fiiris’s cousin, who is nothing like her at all. He ran away from the clan to help/support Fiiris, and to also get a taste of the world and put his skill to use. Hes a charming rogue who specializes in duel blades and eventually becomes an assassin under Lelianna. He is arrogant, a flirt, and likes to show off as much as he can. He teases Fiiris all the time, though he does deeply care for her deep down though he has odd ways of showing it. Hes often running away from Cassandra’s Ire. 

WIP OCs- Jeca Cadash, Wyatt Trevelyan, Ozol & Yasin Adaar 

Personal Project OCs

Hunger Pains (based on WoD)

Twinny Okuda- young and brash, and hates school.  Very level headed about most things, and seems to come off as cold and unsympathetic. Wont go off on someone randomly, but if pushed to her limits and emotionally strained, she can get hot headed and make angry outbursts.She loves to tinker with things and figure out how they work. Very loyal to her close friends, and will always be Ride or Die. Her parents are almost always working, so her relationship with them isnt the best. Eventually it is revealed that she is a force mage. 

Jai Kamaat- Dragon Beast passed down through his bloodline. Radical; lives life on the edge (or tries to, but he can be pretty lazy too). Parkors and hangs with Twinny a lot. The two are pretty close, and even though twinny wouldnt admit it, she considered him her best friend. Had a troubled past, but is working to fix it. Hides a dangerous temper that comes out only if poked enough. Confident, likes to tease/pull pranks, hides insecurities with overconfidence. 

Estelle LaFille “Bloodhound”-  an ancient beast with the Rake monster soul inside of her. Born in the 13th Century, Estelle was born in the French countryside but quickly showed signs of “possession” of a demon, to which her fear stricken parents gave he away to the church to be saved. There, Estelle was raised and entered nunhood. She dealt with night terrors and random sporadic hallucinations/visions of horror from her Beast, until one day it tried to take her over. Estelle, possessing a tremendous amount of willpower and fueled by her religion, made a pact with the Rake. She would comply to its hunger- but act as a righteous hand of God on Earth, delivering his judgment onto the worst of the sinners. The Rake, who was sustained through carrying out acts of punishment, agreed. Quickly becoming a legend, Estelle had stayed true to her code, never giving into the Beast’s desire for carnage for simple “sins”. The early years adjusting to her killing almost broke Estelle, who knew her soul was bloodied from her sin- but justified her actions with “religious righteousness”, receiving small “signs” from god that her path was a just one and it was meant to be. Bloodhound became a stone cold, efficient, deadly killer, striking fear into the underground all over the world

Celio- A local renowned tattoo artist, who also happens to be a powerful Mage and protects the city. Celio used to have a troubled past because of growing up a mage, but has come into his own pretty well and made a name for himself. He is covered in tattoos that he did himself that are inscribed with magic, each one holding its own spell. He utilizes unpredictability, and constantly tattoos new spells onto himself when he has used them. He is a mentor to Twinny and Jai, and also uses his tattoo parlor as a safe haven for supernaturals. He is stubbornly neutral when it comes to turf wars in the supernatural world, much to the dismay of groups around the city. 

WIP OCs- Osirus, Emmett 

Monsters

Jinorin- a Desire demon who runs a high end brothel in the Monster Realm. IN the human world, they are a high end CEO to a company, considered a business shark. Jinorin is gender-fluid and a hermaphrodite, and takes good care of his service workers. They offer housing to workers if they need it, as well as good pay and living essentials. 

Yarah- Assistant to Jinorin and self proclaimed “Hostess” to the Brothel, Yarah is a seaslug monster who works at the brothel and helps keep things running. She loves exotic plants, especially aquatic plants. 

Saurii- another worker in the brothel, Saurii is a small, stout Stingray monster who resides at the brothel. He spends a lot of time in the hot spring bath, as well as the lavish pool. Saurii is playful and mischievous, loving to tease both friends and clients.

WIP OCs- Najii, Glowstick, Lucien

DND Characters

Tenna Galeborn- My first official DnD character. A classic Rogue, tenna is a sylph with messy, wind swept curly black hair, yellow eyes, and has light blue tattoos swirling on her skin. She is highly curious about people, and loves to travel and gamble. Shes a restless spirit, but also enjoys helping out others when they need it. (CG) 

Lucia- Captian Lucia is a pirate queen, who owns her own ship and ragtag loyal crew. Most notable about her is the three deep scars running along her right eye made of gold with its pupil made of glowing turquoise. Shes a Swashbuckler who, by putting ammo into her eye to charge, can make her own magic ammo with different effects. When she first finds people she wasnt to recruit into her crew, she convinces them to sign their name on a contract that magically binds them to her service- not to their knowledge of course. (CN/NE) 

Samiri- The Bastard child to a Lord, Samiri is a half orc Brawler who was hidden away in her fathers castle to hide his shame. She constantly snuck out and rebelled against him, until one night she got away for good. She’s naiive and was sheltered all her life, but wanted to experience the life of an adventurer and set out to make a name for herself to become more than a bastard child no one wanted. Has an Ogre skull helmet, an orcish warhammer that was her mothers that she named Pansy (her favorite flower), and two hands ready to whoop some ass. (CG) 

Ghastooth- A wandering skeleton (obito) Magus who is simply wandering around trying to find out who he is, his purpose, and to make up for whatever horrible sin he did in his past life that made him into what he is now. He has no past memories of his life before becoming an Obitu, only waking up in a decrepit overgrown temple. (NG)

Ellie Mae-  A sweet, upstanding southern belle Thri-Kreen Summoner who is passionate about her faith, spreading good will, and taking care of her dear Eidolon Alais who is a giant lion made of crystalline Obsidian, whose eyes and claws are a glowing white. He also has a cute white ruffle collar made by none other than Ellie Mae. Her parents are tailors, who passed down their craft to her- before she became an adventurer, of course. They send her a new ruffle dress every so often, since adventuring is never kind to your clothing. Some iconic props and accessories of hers are her white hand fan, parasol, and long smoking pipe with smoking tobacco. (Though this character was sadly part of a game run by someone i now hate, I still hope to bring her back in full force!) (NG)

Klinko- the newest edition to my beloved characters, Klinko is a small Grippli Warlock who worships the “Big Frog” in the sky (AKA Cthulu). Despite being a frog, he can actually be quite the charmer (thanks nat 20s!) and is also wandering the land to seek more knowledge about his faith and the arcane. He also really loves to eat meat. (CG?)

[gffa]

I’ve been sick this past few days (it feels like weeks now) and so I have wanted little more than to cry about STAR WARS feelings by reading emotionally satisfying and/or heartbreaking fic and then maybe some porn to go along with it. Leaking faces and wanting to vomit are a lot more tolerable when they come with feelings and porn. \o/ STAR WARS FIC RECS: ✦ To Argue is to Love by Zinga763, obi-wan & anakin, 1k    Anakin is sick, Obi-Wan is confused. ✦ In Want by updiddlyupup, obi-wan & anakin, 7k    Desperate to avoid all the ways he isn’t settling in, Anakin goes on a quest. ✦ Negotation by Glare, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & cast, NSFW, modern au, serial killer au, 64.8k wip    Over a year ago, Coruscant Police Detective Anakin Skywalker vanished without a trace while hunting the prolific serial killer known within the media as “The Negotiator”. ✦ destination: nowhere by kasuchans, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, some (force) bondage, 4.6k    The Outlander Club is known for two things: strong drinks and gambling. It’s really difficult to get home after indulging in either one of the two. ✦ the kids aren’t all right by QueenWithABeeThrone, obi-wan/anakin & anakin/padme & ahsoka & cast, 33.1k    “He dragged me up a hill so I wouldn’t burn to death,” says Anakin. “Obi-wan’s still in there, I know it. I’m going to save him.” ✦ Broken by lilyconrad, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, sith!obi-wan, amnesia, dark content, 3.6k    The Twins are unstoppable enforcers of the Emperor’s will, the sun and moon that hang in the black void of his rule. It is said they are not the same age and that under their hoods they do not look alike, but they fight as one entity, silent and terrible as an eclipse in a spring sky. ✦ untitled by writegowrite, obi-wan/anakin, sith!obi-wan, 1.1k    Like the steel blade he wields, Obi-Wan Kenobi has come far from his simple beginnings. Anakin Skywalker is one of the brightest suns in the Order of the Dawn. ✦ late night under the stars + angsty fight by writegowrite, obi-wan/anakin, ~1k    Did the first two in little vignettes as my writing warm-up for tonight… ✦ In Color by Glare, obi-wan/anakin/padme, soulmark au, modern au, 15.4k wip    Anakin Skywalker is six years old the first time he marks on his skin with intent. ✦ Five Times Anakin Was Uncivilized and One Time Obi-Wan Didn’t Mind by Nisa, obi-wan/anakin, 2k    It’s all in the title. :) ✦ untitled by Glare, obi-wan/anakin/padme, human au, 1.3k    The thing is, Obi-Wan doesn’t hate his roommates. ✦ untitled by themikeymonster + ialreadyreadthatfanfic + likealeafonthewind + phosphorescent-naidheachd, obi-wan/anakin/padme, 2.5k    TPM AU where Padme has a (completely obvious) teenage crush on Padawan Obi-Wan. Little Anakin is slightly upset before promptly deciding he’ll just have to marry them both once he’s old enough. ✦ The Dark Path Lit by Sun and Stars by A_Delicate_Fury, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & luke & leia & han & cast, time travel, 9.4k wip    “I don’t know how this happened. I don’t yet know why. But this is definitely Anakin’s fault.” ✦ untitled by stonefreeak, cody & yoda & cast, supreme chancellor!obi-wan au, ~1k    Anonymous asked: I’d love to see the trooper’s views in all this. Exasperation at Kenobi not taken enough consideration of his safety. Worries that he’s not sleeping, forgetting to eat? What did they see that made them go to Yoda for help? full details + recs under the cut!

✦ To Argue is to Love by Zinga763, obi-wan & anakin, 1k    Anakin is sick, Obi-Wan is confused.    I read this while I was super sick with the flu and it was some really lovely timing for that, as well as one of my favorite things–the early days of Obi-Wan and Anakin’s relationship, when their dynamic was still just getting set up. And it’s super adorable, the first time they really start to banter with each other, that uncertainty of how to approach the other that they both have, the way Obi-Wan finally manages to tease Anakin out of it, the sheer amount of care on both sides that neither really knew how to convey, all of it was just exactly what I wanted and was adorable. ✦ In Want by updiddlyupup, obi-wan & anakin, 7k    Desperate to avoid all the ways he isn’t settling in, Anakin goes on a quest.    This was a combination of adorable little moppet Anakin and the awkward first days of his apprenticeship with Obi-Wan, how they don’t really understand each other yet, how they haven’t really connected, and how Anakin is having trouble adapting to life at the Jedi Temple. It’s just the right amount of angst, while still being generally light-hearted and really pretty cute, just the right amount of hilarity and the right amount of feeling for both of these characters. It was actually a fairly quick read, because it was just the right length and it kept a good focus, and it was just… a really, really solid little fic that I delighted in reading. ✦ Negotation by Glare, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & cast, NSFW, modern au, serial killer au, 64.8k wip    Over a year ago, Coruscant Police Detective Anakin Skywalker vanished without a trace while hunting the prolific serial killer known within the media as “The Negotiator”.    Chapters 20-23: This is an update rec and will focus on these chapters rather than the fic as a whole. Despite that this fic kind of consumes me, I’m not sure where to even start with these chapters because, oh, so much good stuff happens in them! I will do my best to step carefully around spoilers, because I think this fic is more fun when it has the tension building up in it/you know the general direction it’s going, but not the specifics of it! And it’s a fic that’s definitely worth reading, it’s just the right balance of fucked up and delicious, it’s very aware of the dirtybadwronghot things its doing and that’s the feature, not the bug. It’s not going to be for everyone, but I find the mix of fucked up vs satisfying for me on a shippy level to be pretty much perfect. And it’s not really terribly violent, most of it takes place offscreen, this is all about the psychological aspects of the relationship between these two and the Stockholm Syndrome-ness of it all… as well as a portrayal of an off-the-chain Obi-Wan Kenobi who is absolutely fascinating to watch, the dark version of so many of the traits we see in canon. But, okay, these chapters. Oh my god two of the things I’ve been waiting for to happen finally happened! I have been waiting for Anakin to have a chance to escape, real escape, and what he does with it and how it would be used to show where he’s at in the state of their relationship and how much he’s been worn down and it really did not disappoint. I love that it was… almost anti-climactic, it was almost undramatic (lol, almost undramatic, because everything these two do is dramatic, but it wasn’t drama-laden in the way I might have precisely expected), and what that meant for the two of them, what it said about their reliance on each other. One of my favorite things about Obi-Wan/Anakin in canon is how co-dependent they can be about each other and this takes that and really twists it around and makes it darker and fucked up, but with echoes of what I remember from canon and that makes it so interesting and so fascinating. The other thing, though! Finally they get to the sexy times! And how the fic does a really lovely job of showing how wound up Anakin is, how tightly coiled and tense he is, that I found practically feel the ache in my bones right along with him, as he’s lost in all of this. And that Obi-Wan is the only solidity he has to hold onto and when that’s almost taken from him, of course it breaks him down that much further and, oh, the way they come together, the way Obi-Wan pushes him up against the wall and could fuck him right there, could shove into him right in that spot, he very much wants to, but they both hold themselves back just long enough to move somewhere better and let me tell you about how that really is super hot to me. But my favorite thing. My faaaaaaavorite thing. Aside from the predatory grace and possessive marking bites and the fingers tangling in hair. Aside from those things, is the juxtaposition of being calm and gentle with the rough, possessive sex. The way Obi-Wan isn’t quite pushed inside Anakin yet, just starting to stretch him open, but stops, this is the last moment to say no (and what that means), all while Anakin begs for more, is exactly what I’m here for. It’s fucked up and ridiculously hot and delicious and such a genuinely well-written iddy pleasure oh my god I love it so much I’ve become a ridiculous person about it. ✦ destination: nowhere by kasuchans, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, some (force) bondage, 4.6k    The Outlander Club is known for two things: strong drinks and gambling. It’s really difficult to get home after indulging in either one of the two.    Let me tell you about how much I enjoyed this fic! It was super cute and fun in the beginning, with Obi-Wan and Anakin (the lightweight, 100% agreed) walking home after getting drunk and it’s this really almost sort of light-hearted thing where they’re a couple of adorable idiots who clearly are smitten with each other and banter with each other and are annoyed with each other out of love and it just made me feel all light and happy inside! I need that sometimes! And then they finally fall into bed and oh my god Anakin Skywalker the bratty sub who sucks Obi-Wan off for awhile, then climbs on his lap and rides him like a possessed thing while holding him down with the Force, all in an effort to egg him on? So that Obi-Wan will finally, finally snap and roll them over and fuck into Anakin hard enough to drive every other thought of out of his head? That’s it, that’s what I’m here for. This was a fic written to get them to that point, so that Anakin could just shatter and explode everywhere in exactly what he wanted, just completely taken apart and nothing else in him but Obi-Wan and it’s so good for him like that. Leave me here, I’m having feelings about Anakin Skywalker again, when he’s all blissed out from having been thoroughly and satisfyingly fucked. Bless this fic. ✦ the kids aren’t all right by QueenWithABeeThrone, obi-wan/anakin & anakin/padme & ahsoka & cast, 33.1k    “He dragged me up a hill so I wouldn’t burn to death,” says Anakin. “Obi-wan’s still in there, I know it. I’m going to save him.”    Chapter 7: This is an update rec and will focus on this chapter, rather than the story as a whole. I’ll warn ahead of time that this is the end of this particular fic and does provide some resolution, but it’s not the end and a lot is left hanging. Which I don’t mind! I’m definitely willing to wait for whenever the author has time to get the next part out, just that I was expecting more finality from this fic than I should have and wanted to give a heads up to other potential readers I might be reaching. Because, oh, this is finally where Obi-Wan and Anakin see each other again for the first time in so long, where Anakin is just this vibrating bundle of nerves and energy, where he wants so badly to just fling himself onto Obi-Wan and latch on and never let go, but has to hold himself back because Obi-Wan’s not okay, he’s not ready for that weight yet. It’s a slow crawl back towards what they used to have, all while Ahsoka is wary and protective of Anakin getting hurt again and not trusting Obi-Wan, who agrees that he shouldn’t be trusted, and, oh, while this was all lovely to read, the ending has quite the mild cliffhanger that makes me so eager for the next part, because that shit is my jam. So, I definitely recommend this entire fic, it’s been super good for me and I’m absolutely looking forward to more, especially if it involves gross domesticity. ✦ Broken by lilyconrad, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, sith!obi-wan, amnesia, dark content, 3.6k    The Twins are unstoppable enforcers of the Emperor’s will, the sun and moon that hang in the black void of his rule. It is said they are not the same age and that under their hoods they do not look alike, but they fight as one entity, silent and terrible as an eclipse in a spring sky.    Chapter 1: At the time of this rec, only the first chapter had been posted, so it will focus on that, rather than the fic as a whole. I don’t always go for really dark fic, but I’ve liked this author’s other work so much and there was the promise of Anakin riding Obi-Wan like a greedy, desperate thing, so, okay, I’ll give it a shot! And it’s really lovely writing and there’s something so entirely unsettling about the silence of the two of them, contrasted against how we’re familiar with them as loud and bantery characters, that they’re the old married couple who bickers constantly. Here, that’s been stripped away from them, instead it’s taken them down to little more than base instincts, yet that connection between them remains, and it’s the strength of the writing that really pulls that off, that really makes me able to see this and feel so much about it. That I still see the characters I knew from canon in these warped and twisted versions of them was heartbreaking, but also the thing that super made it worth reading. Well, that and the furiously intense aftermath of their mission where they crash against each other and the sex is rough and harsh and Anakin climbs onto Obi-Wan’s lap and rides him like a demon possessed and, okay, I’m really into that, the darker quality to their relationship, as well as the pretty writing. There’s such a lovely image in this moment: And then after more gasps and moans and fumbling with sweet slickness they had switched, Sen in the plush seat and the milky white disc of the planet outside a strange halo around Koh’s head as Koh rode him as hard as he could, thighs apart as he straddled Sen’s lap and their breaths harsh gasps against the faint ticking of the chronometer in the silence of the apartment. It’s taking all the good things about their relationship and inverting them, in some ways a negative image of what they are in canon, and making it lovely and heartbreaking and addictive. There are always undercurrents of darkness in the Star Wars canon, especially with these two, but they’re not always teased out in the right ways, but, oh, this one worked very, very well for me. Also, that sex scene was lovely and I’m always here for Anakin’s head crowned with a halo as he sits on Obi-Wan’s lap, give me that always. ✦ untitled by writegowrite, obi-wan/anakin, sith!obi-wan, 1.1k    Like the steel blade he wields, Obi-Wan Kenobi has come far from his simple beginnings. Anakin Skywalker is one of the brightest suns in the Order of the Dawn.    This was short but lovely, one of those fics where these two find each other in all these other worlds and universes, where even when they’re on opposite sides, they still gravitate towards each other. It’s not a long piece, but it’s just the right length for a snippet and, oh, there was some very nice iddy stuff in amongst the pretty writing–both of these characters are so dangerous and powerful, which always pleases me, but especially that feeling of… nothing else matters but these two to each other. ✦ late night under the stars + angsty fight by writegowrite, obi-wan/anakin, ~1k    Did the first two in little vignettes as my writing warm-up for tonight…    These are just little fic snippets, but they’re lovely in the way that they’re… these quite little moments of intimacy, one is happy, the other angsty, but both show such a depth of connection and care between them. Especially the second one, because, oh, Anakin watching someone he loves fade away, when he loves them so much, just hit me right in the feelings place, as it was designed to. ✦ In Color by Glare, obi-wan/anakin/padme, soulmark au, modern au, 15.4k wip    Anakin Skywalker is six years old the first time he marks on his skin with intent.    Chapter 6: This is an update rec and will focus on this chapter, rather than the fic as a whole. One of the things I like about this fic so much is that it’s striking a good balance for me between addressing the more complicated, messy parts of the set-up (the age difference especially), how painful that can be, but without feeling like the fic is going to rip my heart out over it, which is exactly what I want from this! But also that this chapter takes a turn for the angsty (though, the author’s notes assure a turn for the better afterwards) and that gave me a lot of feelings, in exactly the way it was supposed to, because goddamn Obi-Wan’s life is difficult in whatever universe he’s in. I was very glad to see this update, even though it’s a chapter that made me do the ): face a lot because I had feelings about the characters and the situation they found themselves in and just. I really love this AU a lot, okay. ✦ Five Times Anakin Was Uncivilized and One Time Obi-Wan Didn’t Mind by Nisa, obi-wan/anakin, 2k    It’s all in the title. :)    This fic is totally cute and fluffy tropes, like it just whole-heartedly embraces the iddy fun stuff that’s the light-hearted kind of angst and just… really had this adorable kind of charm to the whole piece. It’s a series of scenes across the length of their relationship, as they grow and change with each other, because of each other, how they come together and fit their pieces to each other, and I’m always here for fics that made me feel all warm and squishy inside! ✦ untitled by Glare, obi-wan/anakin/padme, human au, 1.3k    The thing is, Obi-Wan doesn’t hate his roommates.    Oh, this was a lovely, sparkling AU fic where it was exactly the right length for what it was and it was just so charming, it was adorable and warm-hearted and just the right amount of fluff without being too sugary for me. It’s a simple scene, Obi-Wan is attracted to both his roommates, who are in a relationship with each other, and it’s getting distracting and of course they’re not helping. It’s just so… domestic and light-hearted and fun in exactly the right way, especially the resolution of it and the way Obi-Wan really does want to reach out and touch both of them. So much fun! ✦ untitled by themikeymonster + ialreadyreadthatfanfic + likealeafonthewind + phosphorescent-naidheachd, obi-wan/anakin/padme, 2.5k    TPM AU where Padme has a (completely obvious) teenage crush on Padawan Obi-Wan. Little Anakin is slightly upset before promptly deciding he’ll just have to marry them both once he’s old enough.    This is another one where it’s really more of a fic scenario/half-written fic than a proper one, but it’s totally enjoyable and hits a lot of buttons I’ve been thinking about lately, too! Anakin and marriage is a subject I have Thoughts about and this was fun to see come up and it’s just so adorable and charming and Anakin’s kind of a disaster, but a beautiful disaster and so utterly charming in said disastery, like for someone who’s so talented and good at things, he really is a disaster. ♥ And I love that he gets exactly what he wants, he marries his two beloved people (….which happens exactly as you’d expect from Anakin….) yet then they gang up on him and I love Anakin’s use of Tatooine cultural bits that nobody knows what the fuck he’s doing and he’s just so… Anakin Skywalker. It’s totally adorable and put such a big smile on my face to read this! ✦ The Dark Path Lit by Sun and Stars by A_Delicate_Fury, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & luke & leia & han & cast, time travel, 9.4k wip    “I don’t know how this happened. I don’t yet know why. But this is definitely Anakin’s fault.”    Chapter 2: This is an update rec that will focus on the current chapter, rather than the fic as a whole. This chapter is a little slower than the previous one, it’s all about Luke, Leia, and Han trying to figure out how to get along when they’re stranded on Jakku in their younger bodies, but will read very well when the fic gets longer, as it does a lot of set-up and little bits of details about what’s going on with all of them. It’s almost sort of domestic, as Luke works on machines, Han scrounges for whatever work he can, and Leia is feeling sick and trying to struggle through it. There’s definitely a sense of Imending Things swaying above all their heads, as well as Luke definitely feels the Force tugging on him, and I spent a lot of the chapter just itching for things to happen, the exact reaction I was supposed to have, but also there’s some really cute stuff along the way! Luke and Leia being adorable sunburnt moppets! Han being the galaxy’s oldest teenager! Some really adorable trio interaction, with protective!Han and cranky!Leia and Luke trying his best but the pressure gets to him, too! A lovely chapter and I’m eagerly awaiting more. ✦ untitled by stonefreeak, cody & yoda & cast, supreme chancellor!obi-wan au, ~1k    Anonymous asked: I’d love to see the trooper’s views in all this. Exasperation at Kenobi not taken enough consideration of his safety. Worries that he’s not sleeping, forgetting to eat? What did they see that made them go to Yoda for help?    This is part of a larger series that would probably help to have read at least the early pieces in first. I really enjoyed this piece, partly because I love characters who are focused on Obi-Wan, but also because I really enjoyed seeing Yoda care about Obi-Wan in his own way, there’s something… really warm-hearted and caring in this fic (and the whole AU) that really appeals and this was just entirely engaging and fun and good and about family, I loved it.

[anotheronleft]

Omg this is such a good idea

What if a Jedi's eyes glowed to match their lightsaber tho