#I’d write this fic if I wasn’t already fighting for my life with the one in front of me

[mad-as-a-box-of-frogs]

Imagine Jake co-fronting (or this happens in the headspace) and finding a beaten and battered Marc, gently grasping his chin, and quietly asking “Who hurt you?“ with a promise of violent retribution in his voice

[writingsbychlo]

BUY ME PRESENTS | draco malfoy

summary; draco loves you, and you love him. he just needs a little push to make things official. OR, draco malfoy fighting for his life when he realises just how much everyone wants his girl.

word count; 8928

notes; this is based on christmas eve, but I'm posted a couple days later! this fic puts us half way through our slytherin boy holidays! I'm not sure how the one I expected to be the shortest became the longest one so far. like, seriously, I know I keep saying this but wtf? why can't I write a short fic?

Dinner had already been served by the time you made it to the Grand Hall, the smells of roasted meats and seasoned potatoes filling the air, your mouth watering as you navigated between the throngs of people. Your seat had been saved, of course. A spot on the bench between Draco and Daphne, and as you neared, your friends noticed, smiles rising and waves in your direction. 

Sinking into your seat, you pressed a kiss to the cheek of the blond boy beside you, his face tipping up to receive it and lips twisting into a smile, attention moving to you as you sat. 

“Good day?”

“Better now that it’s over.” You smiled, a chuckle falling from him, and his hand came to rest upon your thigh, squeezing comfortingly while you helped yourself to a plate of whatever food was left. “What are we talking about, what did I miss?”

“Not much. Just Theo telling us all about Christmas in Italy.” Mattheo rolled his eyes, as though you all hadn't heard this exact same speech since that very first Christmas you’d become friends. Most of the group seemed to have simply tuned it out, laughing and nodding at the correct times as they whispered their own conversations. 

A swipe of a thumb over your thigh as you finished filling your plate with food, and you shifted your attention to Draco. “So, what are your Christmas plans, Dray?”

Shuffling a little bit closer now that your plate was full, his arm moved to lay across your shoulders instead, letting you snuggle up into his side. “Oh, you know, the usual.” 

He smiled, and your world seemed to get a little bit brighter, his lips brushing your hairline as he left a barely-present kiss there. 

“Typical Malfoy-family Christmas. I get to do the tour with my parents, visiting every other rich-arsehole couple they know. Christmas Eve party. The pleasure of my father’s annual ‘you’re growing up now, son, it’s time to get serious about the world’ over the dinner table on Christmas Day. Open some presents I don’t want, on a schedule I don’t like.” He sighed, clearly used to it by now, but it didn’t make it sound any less awful.

“Well,” You smile, nudging him playfully with your elbow. “Maybe we could write to one another, or even get a little visit in?” 

The hope in your voice was evident, and Pansy gave you an encouraging smile across the table. You’d been meaning to ask Draco this question for weeks now, and your last chance had been fast approaching. Since the summer, you and Draco had been hooking up. It was no secret among your friends, or even the students; your affections for one another were hardly contained, but it wasn't official. 

You wanted the labels, the security, and the safety of knowing that he was yours and you were his, and nobody else could come between you. You wanted to be introduced to his parents, be his date at events, to have him be proud to call you his girl. But Draco had been hesitant, avoiding every conversation that might inch into the ‘so, what are we?’ territory, keeping a safe distance from any kind of real commitment. 

It wasn’t enough for you anymore, not by a long shot, but trying to talk to Draco about it only ended up with him shutting it down, or skilfully diverting the conversation and you were growing tired of his games. 

Draco only made a vague noise, neither an agreement nor disagreement, and looked away from you as he picked up his drink to take a sip. “I don’t know… maybe. I can get pretty busy over the holidays, I’d hate to let you down.”

Another skill of his, making it seem like cancelling or delaying or not doing something at all was your idea. He was clearly hoping you’d brush it off, and tell him not to worry about it, but instead, you kept quiet. Not giving him the satisfaction of any easy win, this time. 

Pansy caught your eye across the table, shaking her head disapprovingly, and shooting a glare at an oblivious Draco. She had been your confidant these last few months, every update and development in your situationship, she’d been informed of. Every decision, she’d been a part of. She was practically as invested as you were, at this point, and she certainly did not approve of his nonchalant behaviour either. 

“Speaking of parties,” Mattheo cut Theo off, clearly having had enough of the annual rehashing of ‘that one Christmas when Theo was eight’ for today, and changing the subject, “Who’s got their dates sorted for the Malfoy Christmas Eve Ball, and who’s daring to go solo and have Narcissa set them up like a matchmaker all night long?”

Chuckles rang out among the group, and Pansy smiled, leaning into Blaise’s side with a love-struck grin. “I think we’re safe this year.”

“I’m going solo, but, I did tell Aunty Cissa that I have my eye on a girl in one of my classes, and I’m seeing how it plays out. So, she’s not setting me up anytime soon, since she believes I’m already onto someone.” Enzo smirked, and Blaise congratulated him for his clever tactics. 

You smirked through your mouthful of food, listening to Mattheo explain his complex excuse, to Reggie mournfully spill the story of how he’s already been set up by his parents witha ‘potential bride to meet’, and how he hopes she doesn’t show up. You laugh with the others as Tom simply raises an eyebrow, knowing that even Narcissa doesn’t attempt to set him up anymore, lest he scare away any more of her friends’ daughters. Theo, ever the player he is, is looking forward to dancing with every single lady he can find, and taking his pick at the end of the night.

“I suppose nobody needs to ask Draco who his date will be.” Mattheo grins, wiggling his brows at the pair of you as you smile, leaning a little further into the man at your side. 

“Hey, who knows?” He chortles, and your eyes narrow a little, “I’ve had plenty of offers. I haven’t made up my mind yet.”

“Oooh.” Enzo’s eyes went wide, the other boys joining in, and Pansy fixed him with a glare. Daphne leaned around you with her jaw dropped at his statement, and you sat up from his embrace, lips pressed flat and a brow raised. 

The boys snickered, ‘he’s in shit’ and ‘someone’s in the doghouse’, but he lived for the spotlight, a drama queen at heart, and he smirked down at you. 

“Oh, c’mon. Don’t look at me like that, babe.” The playful nickname was one he only ever used when joking around. When he was sincere, he was much more romantic; darling, sweetheart, beautiful. “What am I supposed to say? ‘Hi mum, hello father, meet the girl I’m skipping class to shag! Thanks for paying my tuition!’, I don’t think so.”

The boys all laughed, Daphne scoffed in sync with her sister behind you, and Pansy looked like she’d lunge across the table at any moment, if it wasn’t for her chastising Blaise for laughing, instead. ‘You and Draco can share that couch you’ll both be sleeping on tonight’, she’d said. ‘See how funny you think it is then’.

The words stung as he spoke them, dismantling your relationship down to the bare minimum; to sex and physical connection and nothing else. Like the nights spent talking until the sun came up were nothing, the times you’d held him while he cried, or washed him in the bath when he was so exhausted he could barely keep his eyes open. Like he didn’t rub your stomach for hours every month when you got cramps, or had a stash of your favourite snacks in his bedside table for whenever you came over. 

You knew that Draco Malfoy lived you, just as much as you loved him. It was evident in everything he did, every kiss and every word. But, he needed a little push.

“I suppose you’re right,” You sigh lightly, giggling along with the laughing boys around the table. “I’m not so sure Lucius wouldn't burst a blood vessel then and there.”

“Exactly.” Draco hummed, and you glanced back to Pansy. She was shocked, only for a second, before taking in the subtle signs of mischief on your face. Her own smirk stretched out in return, and her gaze flickered once to Draco, before back to you. 

A new game was afoot, and Draco wasn’t going to stand a chance.

Slipping your coat from your shoulders, the annual Malfoy Christmas Eve Ball was well underway. Your parents had disappeared into the crowds before you’d even stepped out of the carriage, uncaring of where you were as long as you weren’t causing trouble. They were here to mingle with the other importants, and you were just here to learn the ropes of proper socialising.

The garment was taken from you, your small bag clutched in hand as a ticket was given to you for it, and you brushed down the front of your dress delicately. Pearls moved under your touch, beading along the bodice flat and perfected, and you felt your confidence rise as you looked at yourself once more in the reflection of a dark window. Adjusting the small lace gloves on each hand, you took a step towards the dining room. 

Elegant music was playing from a live band up on a stage, the room was decorated this year to look like a winter escape. Pale and frosty, like a palace of ice, twinkling lights and glittering decor, crisp white tablecloths and ice sculptures. A layer of goosebumps travelled along your skin at the sight of it all, despite the warming charms that took place for the guests. 

Scanning the room, you quickly found your table. The designated kids table, despite you all being legal adults and far beyond such status. You’d all be the babies of the ball until the new generation emerged, no doubt. Moving through the bodies and crowds of people politely, Theo was the first to glance up and spot you, his mouth falling open, and a rush of confidence took over as he raised two fingers to his lips and whistled. 

The sound caught the attention of the others’ chatter fading to quiet as they all turned to look for the object of his cat-calling, Enzo’s eyes widened, Pansy cheered loudly, and even Mattheo looked momentarily speechless. You’d had the same reaction when you’d seen yourself in the dress too, your stylist had truly outdone herself for this one. 

You looked flawless, and you looked expensive, and utterly elegant. Doing a little spin as you approached, a smile broke free on your lips as you stopped before the chair with your name card before it. 

“Merlin, babe,” Pansy started, drawing your attention straight her her, “You’ve got every eye on you tonight. If I was single, I’d be all over you.” 

She winked when you laughed, and Blaise rolled his eyes but smiled, leaning in to kiss her cheek affectionately. 

“Pretty necklace,” She commented, and your fingers rose to the pretty string of pearls and diamonds that you had. 

“It was a gift,” You simply hummed, tugging at your gloves. Glancing at the others, you gave each a polite smile, eyes lingering on Draco as he stared. In any other style, this dress would be scandalous for an event like this. A low neckline, spaghetti straps, no sleeves. Tight and fitted to every curve of your body, and yet the classic designs and vintage nature elevated it to the kind of class Audrey Hepburn would be proud of. 

He looked just as good, a dark suit, a fresh white shirt, a champagne-coloured tie that made the colour of his eyes and his hair stand out and your mouth dried out a little. Silver rings adorned his fingers, the Malfoy signet standing out, clenched so tightly around his whiskey glass that his knuckles were almost white. 

You’d worn soft, golden makeup effects today, a dusting of glitter along your cheekbones and eyelids, a shade of pink on your cheeks and lips that you knew was his weakness. 

“Someone really wanted your attention with that, huh?” Your best friend teased, and your eyes snapped away from Draco, back to her. 

“I suppose so,” You muse, hand coming up to touch one of the beads on your ear, “Since they also got me this lovely pair of matching earrings.”

Pansy made a dramatic show of admiring them, and Blaise gave a funny look, glancing at the jewellery, and then back at Draco, who was frowning. Before you could reach for your chair after placing your clutch down, Enzo was shooting to his feet from beside you, tugging out the chair for you. 

Draco scoffed as you gave him a thank you, settling into your seat, and he glared at the man beside you. Enzo didn’t flinch, however, smirking at Draco as he spoke;

“What? It’s called being a gentleman, cousin.”

Crossing your leg delicately, you’d hardly even removed your gloves, before a tray was coming down by your side, and a young waiter with a dazzling smile was looking right at you. 

“Champagne, ma’am?” Not a planned pawn in your game, but a welcome addition, you smiled sweetly in return. 

“Oh, I’d love some. Thank you.” Taking the single glass by the stem, you lifted it from the tray and the man’s smile stretched wider as you sipped the bubbly, holding his eye. 

“Of course, miss. If you need anything, anything at all, I’ll be at the bar, happy to serve.” His flirting was heavy enough that normally you’d want to roll your eyes, but tonight, you suppressed that urge, playing into it as you bat your lashes. 

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. Thank you.”

He took the dismissal, staring appreciatively as he walked away, another look over his shoulder to you as you watched him go. 

“Stop eye-fucking the help.” Draco snapped, and your focus moved to him slowly, just to find his icy glare on you. He didn’t scare you, though, all that mean bravado, but you knew what was underneath. 

“I was doing no such thing.” You tut, placing down your drink. “Don’t be jealous, Dray. You look even better in that suit. If you want compliments, just ask. No need to be mean.”

He seemed rather placated by this, his ego settling down, even if the others did laugh at him.

The conversation seemed to continue around you as you settled in, avoiding Draco’s heated stare and sipping at your champagne. The rush of warming alcohol through your veins settled every dancing nerve, and gave you the calm confidence to do what you had planned. Sitting forwards, just enough, you angled your body so that Draco might have the perfect view over your cleavage as you feigned interest in the chatter around you. 

He took the bait, his gaze falling right where you wanted it, the gems of your necklace dangling just over the swell of your breasts, and he licked his lower lip, pulling it between his teeth.

Raising your hands and catching the swinging gem, you toyed with it carefully, letting it run over your fingers. Time melted away as Draco’s gaze flicked between your nimble touch, your lips, and your chest, shuffling in his seat every so often, and gulping at the bubbly in his glass. 

He was on his third refill by the time food started to be taken around, and you took pity on him momentarily, sitting back in your chair and angling away from him, ready to receive your first course. 

As the starters came around, you turned to thank your waiter, surprised to see it was the same man from the bar who had brought you your champagne. You’d given him little thought since he’d walked away, and you’d never spotted him again, but perhaps that was exactly why he was delivering your food now, as he beamed at you and set down the plate. 

Men did love a little attention, after all. 

Reaching for the bottle of champagne cooling in the centre of the table, the waiter never looked away from you as he refilled your glass without being asked. Draco finally seemed to notice as he finished adjusting his napkin, gaze narrowing on the man serving you. “You’ve got to be kidding me…” He muttered.

You pretended to take no notice, smiling at the man and waving your fingers flirtily as he walked away.

“I’m going to get another drink at the bar,” He announced, leaving without his glass and without asking if anyone else wanted one. You knew where he was truly going, if the lock of his jaw and the stamp in his step were any indication. You doubted you’d be seeing that waiter again.

As you poked at your food, Pansy excused herself too, only a few bites into her meal before she disappeared with a wicked grin and no explanation to anyone. Enzo just chuckled beside you, glancing around the room like he was watching all the cogs of a machine in motion, before turning his gaze on you. “You do look lovely tonight, do you know that?”

“Of course I do. I spent days on end trying on dress after dress to find this.” You sighed, admiring the gorgeous piece of art on your body as you set your cutlery down. 

��And is it serving the purpose you need it to?” He teased, voice knowing, and you nodded. Flicking your gaze over the patrons and guests in the room, you searched for Draco, finding him talking politely to one of his mother’s friends at the bar. 

“It is, I think.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way.” He whispered, your focus still on the man who truly held your heart, who was making his polite excuse and walking way, back towards you all. His gaze locked on yours, only for a second, before Pansy was calling your name and drawing your focus elsewhere. 

When you looked up to her, she was grinning, a man by her side. “This is Elliot, he’s been wanting to meet you for some time. I promised him I’d introduce you both tonight.”

You offered the best smile you could as his cheeks reddened, and Pansy merely patted him on the shoulder, slinking away as you offered your hand to him. “Lovely to meet you, Elliot.”

“You too. As embarrassing as that introduction was, it’s true. I have wanted to meet you for some time.” He had a kind smile and pretty eyes, and he seemed far too nice to be dragged into your game tonight, but he seemed almost like a willing participant, and you weren’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. As Draco took his seat, Elliot continued, “Pansy has told me so much about you. You know, if you’re free one day before you go back to that fancy boarding school of yours, I’d love to take you out.”

“Yeah? What have you got in mind?” You smile, twisting a little more to face him, and your encouragement only brightens his expression as Draco’s darkens in your peripheral.

“A night in London, perhaps. We could get dinner, and see the opera?”

“She doesn’t like the opera.” Draco sneered, openly staring at Elliot with enough contempt to scare away lesser men. Elliot tugged at his collar, glancing at Draco, and then back to you as you tried to hide your shock at his behaviour.

“The theatre, then?”

Draco looked ready to snap again, and before he could, you nodded, sparing your unwilling partner. “That sounds wonderful, I’ll see what my schedule says. I’ll get in touch with you through Pansy if I can find the time, is that okay?”

“Perfect.” He smiled, sneaking another wary glance at Draco who was not backing down from glaring at him unflinchingly, but Elliot shook it off, bravely. “It was a pleasure to meet you, truly.”

“And you, Elliot.”

Soon after he left, the plates were being cleared. You tried not to smirk as a different waiter, and one who very pointedly did not so much as even catch your gaze, cleared your dishes away at record speed. 

You knew that Draco had something, everything, to do with that. He was jealous by nature, a spoilt single child who did not like to share his favourite toys, and that is exactly what you were betting on tonight.

You stood, taking a lap around the room with Pansy to settle your food before the next course, and to get another drink. She took the opportunity to fill you in on how her first Christmas event with Blaise’s family had gone, and when you returned, you made sure to surreptitiously place yourself behind Draco’s chair. 

You placed a hand on his shoulder, a friendly gesture, squeezing and rubbing enough that your thumb swept over his collar and across his neck. His pulse jumped under your touch, and he tipped his head closer, into your touch. 

As he did so, your heart leapt in your chest. To others, it might look like a friendly gesture but to you, it meant so much more. You were tempted to cave then and there, to live with this being enough, to settle, but you couldn't. You didn’t want this to be it, you wanted to follow this by leaning down to kiss him, to have him smile against your lips in public the way he did when you were alone. 

To arrive at these events together, arms linked, and to stumble out tiredly together too. To sit by him, his hand on your thigh, to rest your head on his shoulder, to kiss him on the dance floor. The thought was enough to push you through. 

He twisted his head, to kiss your hand like he often did when you did this. Carefully, you slipped your hand away just in time, knuckles brushing across the nape of his neck as you stepped away, and back to your seat. 

His sights moved to you, but like a saving grace, the servers began to appear with more dishes, and dinner soon distracted you all. A delicious serving of salmon and potatoes, and the hall fell quiet enough for you to hear the beautiful music playing when chatter fell low. 

Low conversation, drinks refilled, and that perfect mood set across the room, as people took to the tables and quieted down. Your favourite part of the night, usually. Good food, your friends, and a chance to catch up without the usual weight of it all sitting on you. Regulus was talking, telling the rare story that had him caught up in a long conversation where he usually just observed quietly, but your attention was fixed on your lover. 

Until, Theo spoke up. 

“Oh, merda,” He muttered across Reggie’s’ story, his gaze cutting to you alarmingly quickly. “I forgot to tell you.”

“Tell me what?” Your heart skipped a beat, a flash of panic.

“My cousin flew in last minute for the party, and he wants to speak to you.” Theo’s words soothed your panic, and you offered him a flat look for the dramatic way he’d put it. Taking a sip from your glass, you raised a brow.

“When?”

“Now.” He confirmed, sights lifting to sit just behind you, and before you could even turn, a chair was being pulled up beside your own from another table. Turning your head to the owner, a smile burst across your face at the man sitting before you. 

“Dario!” Your arms were around his neck before you could stop yourself, and he was chuckling as he bundled you into an equally enthusiastic hug. He chuckled lightly, pulling back only far enough to press a friendly kiss to your cheek, and you cupped his face as you parted from him. “You’re growing a beard!”

“My mother hates it.” He chuckled, rubbing a hand over it. As you twisted a little more towards him, he reached down, practically manhandling you as he reached for the edge of your seat by your legs, tugging it sideways to face him. You squealed as the chair jolted, screeching on the floor, tugging you closer as he leaned in. “Sei incantevole.”

“Are you charming me in Italian?” You smirk, a boyish smile on his face as he lounged back in his seat. “What are you doing here, anyway? Theo said none of you were flying in this year! I thought you couldn't make it.”

“I couldn't,” He sighed, shrugging, “But, then I heard that you would be here, without a date, and I knew I just had to make it. So, here I am, la mia bella donna. You think a short flight from Italy would stop me rushing over here to you?”

Your giggle was against your control. Even if he was more like family than a romantic interest, the way his accent twisted around coyly spoken words, was enough to bring a blush to even the most unreceptive woman’s face. “Cut it out, you flirt.”

“You’ll save me a dance later, right?”

“We’ll see.” He rose his brow, and you lifted your glass, taking a sip of bubbly to hide your smile, leaving him hanging. “Depends on how much more of your cheesy flirting I can endure.”

“You mean my wonderful Italian charm?” He teased, pinching one of your cheeks, and deepening the flush he had already created. “Don’t think I don’t see the way I make you blush.

You could only scoff, mouth dry as you tried to think of a retort, and you didn’t miss Theo muttering in Italian behind you, curse words you’d picked up on tumbling from his mouth. 

“Perhaps this can convince you,” Dario reaches for his inner pocket, producing a small, slim box. An excited squeak breaks from you as he hands it over, your fingers brushing the elegant leather, an Italian name embossed across the front. “Open it later, alright?”

You could only nod, admiring it happily, before slipping the box safely inside of your clutch. He took your hand, kissing your knuckles as he stood. A final wink as he offered you hid charming goodbyes, and a farewell to the rest of the table, before returning his borrowed chair to where he had taken it from. 

You watched as your friend left, disappearing into the crowd, no doubt to mingle and socialise as he had always been so good at, before you swung back around in your chair. 

“He taught you everything you know, huh, Nott?”

Theo only shrugged, a cheeky grin on his face. “What can I say, tesoro? We Nott men just have charm. We’ll woo your panties right off.” He winked, the cockiness not lasting long as Draco swung at him, a fist landing roughly on his arm as the Malfoy heir scowled, glaring at his best friend. 

“Cut it out.” He growled the words through gritted teeth, and your hand shot up, rubbing at your lip to hide your grin as Draco made no effort to hide his own emotions. Theo only laughed, rubbing at the patch on his arm he’d taken the hit.

Dessert was served, a beautiful display of ice cream and winter berries that almost looked too good to eat. The key word being almost. You hadn't been able to resist, however, and the first small groan you’d let out as the sugar hit your tongue had Draco’s gaze snapping straight to you. I did not leave, once, after. 

Instead, he watched, through a dark gaze, every curl of your lips around the spoon, every swipe of your tongue to catch the juice of burst berries. If you’d put on a little extra show, just for him, nobody else had to know. 

It was like he was staring right into your soul, so intense, even after the meal was long since finished. Finally, you indulged him once again, turning to look at him and raising a brow. “Yes, Draco?”

“You look beautiful tonight, I am simply admiring.” He let his gaze move across you slowly, making his admiration apparent, and his gaze lingered a fraction of a second longer on your neck. He stared at you with open adoration, the kind of look that told you exactly how he felt, even if he was fighting it, but he was close to breaking. He was close to losing this game he didn’t know he was playing. Then, his gaze flickered over your shoulder, sweet observation morphing. His brows drew together, his open hand slamming down on the table hard enough to make the glass rattle. “Oh, fucking hell…”

Mattheo erupted with sudden laughter, loud and brash, and there was a tap on your shoulder before you could even ask him what had him in such hysterics. A young man you did not know, perhaps a few years younger than you, and glanced around the table to see which of your friends had put this one together. Each seemed to have caught on in their own time, and had a hand in adding to the fun, to watch Draco suffer more, but none of them were laying any claim to this one. 

“I’ve been watching you all evening, and you are beautiful.” He smiled, stuttering over his words slightly, and Draco made no shy show of his disdain, rolling his eyes and making a disapproving sound. “I was wondering if you might grant me the pleasure of a dance?”

“She would dance with you,” Enzo interrupted, before you could speak at all, leaning forward toward the edge of your chair from his own, and you could have kissed him in gratitude for saving you. “But, she promised me her first dance. Isn’t that right, love? And I think now is the perfect time. Let’s go.”

Offering you his hand, you took it, letting him sweep you away without a second’s delay, navigating you both to the dance floor and twirling you expertly into his arms. One hand clasped your own, the other sitting at a respectable place on your waist, your own on his shoulder, and he fell into the well-rehearsed steps of a classical ballroom dance he’d been doing since he could walk. 

You let out a shaky sigh, relief flooding your veins as you looked back to your seat, noticing that the boy had taken Enzo’s rejection well and disappeared, not hanging around and waiting for your return. 

“You’re killing him slowly, like a predator playing with its prey,” Enzo smirked, neither of you needing to clarify who you were talking about, as he brought up his cousin. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really?” He chuckled, spinning you out before pulling you back in, sharp actions that made you dizzy with their accuracy, and you grinned as he brought you tumbling right back into his arms, perfectly. If he’d been trying to win you over, his dancing alone would’ve had you swooning. “You just show up to a fancy event like this, dripping in diamonds and pearls and looking like a million bucks, supposedly single. You mean to tell me you didn’t know that all these rich London boys wouldn't descend on you like vultures?”

“Not my fault I’m single and hot, Enz.”

He just laughed, dipping you a little. “We do struggle, don’t we.” You wove between people, a happy silence falling between you both once again as he guided you over the floor, back and forth, “Are you, though? Single, I mean.”

“That is up to your cousin.”

“Touché.”

You continued to move, until your feet were sore from all the twirling, clinging to Enzo in fits of giggles as he spun and twirled and dipped you more, hands on your waist as he lifted you through the air, making a show of his dancing. 

He may have seemed altruistic in his gestures, sweeping in to save you and Draco from your dance with the boy, but he was using you too. Enzo was taking every opportunity to show off his moves to every lady around the room watching, a flirty smile on his face between conversations and he glanced around, and you wouldn't be surprised if he received more offers than Theo or Dario by the end of the night. 

As the third song came to an end, and the music fell for just a second, you panted slightly, arm around his neck now, looking up at him with flushed cheeks and a bright smile. “Can we take a break?”

“Tired, already? You only gave me three so far.” He smirked at the way your jaw dropped, your face going hot and you knew your cheeks were red. You untangled yourself from his body, barely making it a step away from his laughter before he wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging you into his side. “Oh, c’mon. I thought the aim was to flirt and make him mad?”

“He’s not even here to listen!”

“I’m practising,” Enzo murmured, steering you towards the bar, and leaning on the wood as he flagged down the bartender. You were quickly served, by a woman who fawned over Enzo as she passed by, and you had to snap your fingers in front of his face to snap his gaze away from her retreating form. “So, how long are you going to make him—”

A tap on Enzo’s shoulder cut him off, and he turned to look, straightening up instantly from his slumped position. As soon as he moved so you could see, your relaxation melted away too, as you found yourself face to face with Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy. 

“Lorenzo, I’ve hardly had a chance to talk to you all evening. I want to ask you about your schoolwork.” The impressively formal and deep voice of Lucius Malfoy settled over your skin like fresh snow, cold but smooth, and you shuddered. 

Narcissa only chuckled lightly at her husband’s words, her eyes on you. “You’ve been busy, though. Who is your lovely lady?”

“Uncle Lucius, Aunt Cissa. This is my friend, (Y/n).”

It wasn’t exactly the circumstances you’d wanted to meet them under, but you smiled nonetheless, nerves running wild as you offered your hand to them both, shaking politely just as your parents had taught you. 

“Ah, (Y/n). Yes. I make a point of knowing all of Draco’s school friends, but I’m in business with your father, aren’t I?” Something like a small kernel of sweetness was buried in that statement, his interest in his son’s life, even if he tried to hide it behind formalities, but it wasn’t your place to comment. 

“Yes, sir. That is correct.”

“They’re very proud of your schoolwork. They were telling me about your latest project. You synthesised a new potion to grow murkweed faster, is that true?”

You were surprised he knew so much, your small project submitted for Herbology was the last thing you’d expected Lucius Malfoy to know of, or take an interest in, and your mouth felt like sandpaper as you tried to form words. “Yes. Yes, sir. That’s right.”

“Interesting.” That calculating gaze scanned over you, analysing you from head to toe, like he could see right through you with a single glance. “That is impressive, for someone of your age. I’d be open to learning more. Are you considering making a future out of your alchemy talents? I have connections that I could contact for you.” 

You were speechless, your stomach going wild with butterflies born of both excitement and anxiety. He smirked, a look that would set you on edge if you weren’t sure deep down that this was in your interests, not against them. 

“Perhaps we can discuss it more soon, when we next see you. With Enzo?”

Enzo’s arm around your waist shifted, a reassuring weight that you were sure had been your only grounding presence for this surreal conversation. He patted your hip encouragingly. “Oh, no, we aren’t…” 

Motioning between you both, Lucius’ brows furrowed, and Narcissa tried to hide her sigh.

“Sorry to disappoint you, Aunt Cissa. (Y/n) isn’t mine, though it is wonderful that you approve.” Before either could question him, or expand on their confusion, Enzo gave your waist a final rub, before removing his touch from you entirely, and stepping towards his family. “Shall we go and discuss schoolwork then, Uncle? You have questions, and I have answers. I hope the ones you want.”

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss (Y/l/n).” Lucius politely offered you his hand again, shaking it firmly, and that was about as friendly a dismissal as you’d ever get from him, you’d heard. This was only supported by the surprised look on Narcissa’s face, and the beam Enz gave you as he guided his uncle away. 

“I hope to see you again soon, (Y/n). You look wonderful this evening, thank you for coming.” Narcissa murmured, before following her husband and nephew, glancing back at you only once over her shoulder. She knew. The woman was far more cunning than she let on, the true embodiment of a sneaky Slytherin, observing quietly and taking everything in. Her eyes glinted. She knew you knew she knew, too.

Your heart was pounding, cheeks warm as you lifted your fingers to them cautiously. The disappointed waitress placed down two drinks before you, Enzo long gone without his, but you smiled at her with appreciation, fingers shaking a little as you lifted the glass to your lips to take a sip. 

You’d spoken to Draco’s parents. 

They’d liked you. Lucius had offered to put you onto the career path, and Narcissa had complimented your dress. A soft laugh of disbelief slipped free, your eyes sliding closed for just a second as you revelled in the moment. 

It hasn’t been what you’d set out for tonight, but it was far more than what you’d hoped for. Opening your eyes again, to head back to the table and find Draco, you were met by the sight of a stranger leaning before you on the bar, grinning down at you in amusement. “Hello.”

“Hi.” You gave a terse smile, and a single nod. “If you’ll excuse me—”

“I didn’t even get to ask you to dance yet. Saw you out on the floor with the Berkshire boy, earlier, and I thought—”

“I’m dancing with her next, mate. Piss off.” 

Draco rarely sounded that mad, a chill went down your spine as you felt an arm slide around your waist, tugging you back into his chest. “Dray…”

The stranger only scoffed, glaring at Draco as he wandered away, and your hand reached for his forearm on your body. He snatched it away too soon, however, tugging on your hip to turn you around. His jaw was clenched tight, eyes more frozen than the coldest glacier. “Dance with me.”

Not a request, and he didn’t wait for an answer, before plucking your drink from your hand and slamming it down onto the bar, guiding you back to the swaying bodies. Standing before you, you offered him your hand, your hand sitting lightly on his shoulder. He didn’t take the respectable route, instead, his arm wrapped tight around your waist, sweeping you close to his body, and beginning to move you both in simple steps. 

It was several minutes before he relaxed, your arm sliding further around his neck in a more intimate hold, bringing the two of you much closer, swaying slowly. The tension in his body gave way with every step, and with a resigned sigh, he finally spoke, “You met my parents.”

“I did. They were lovely. Very curious about Enzo and I’s relationship.”

His hand clenched on your waist, and you tipped your head at him as his piercing gaze drilled into you. One more move…

“Oh, don’t be so mad, Dray. We’re only shagging, after all. You’ll find a new girl if I get swept away by someone else.”

His eyes narrowed, jaw clenching, and a fire burned in those silver eyes now, melting the ice away with rage. Checkmate.

“You win, alright? I’m not playing this stupid game any longer.” He took a deep breath, and another, fingers twitching on your back as jealousy bubbled under the surface. “For fucks sake, how many pieces of jewellery from other guys are you wearing? Who bought you those earrings, that necklace? I should be the only one buying you gifts. I should be the one spoiling you. You want the Malfoy family ring? I’ll go yank it off my mother’s engagement ring from her finger right now, just take all this off.”

He studied you for a second, confusion growing at the smirk that grew on your lips. Victory was yours, and you leaned in, pressing a delicate kiss to his cheek. Letting the hand from his neck smooth down his chest, his gaze stayed locked on the jewels around your neck, glaring angrily. “No.”

“No?”

“No. It’s pretty. I’m going to keep wearing it all, let it remind you what you have. Next time you piss me off, forget a date, or use the last of my shampoo, I’m going to put it all back on so you can remember how many guys would jump at the chance.” His nostrils flared, but he stayed silent, wisely knowing when to keep his mouth shut. “I don’t want your family ring, Malfoy. Not yet. I just want a proper title, and the respect that comes with it. I’m not your booty call, or your side piece. You don’t want to play games anymore? Then don’t.”

“You already won.” He whispers, his head dropping down to let his forehead rest on your own. “You know how much you mean to me.”

“Yes, I do. But I want the whole world to know it, too, Dray.”

He didn’t respond verbally. Instead, he twisted his head, enough to press his mouth to your own, silencing any more arguments between you both as he kissed you. His lips claimed yours, a tender and loving kiss, showing everyone just how much you meant to him. There was no mistaking the emotions within it, not as his arms wrapped around your body, holding you to him as the pretence of dancing was given up, your hand on the back of his head, fingers in his hair, meeting every push and pull.

When he pulled away, your smile took over, bashful now under his openly adoring gaze, and he stole several more pecks from your lips. A happy sound escaped you as he tugged you in, tucking his face into your neck, and swaying you both to the music. 

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

“You have, but I’d be open to hearing it again.” Your hand smoothed over his hair, and he chuckled against your skin, leaving a kiss on the crook of your neck before raising to meet your eye. 

“You are breathtaking, darling. I’m in awe. This colour is my favourite, you know.”

“Why do you think I wore it?”

His fingers trailed down your spine, eyes sparkling even more at that revelation. “How about we get out of here? We’ll make our goodbyes to my parents, and head out.”

“Our goodbyes?” You repeated as he took your hand, lacing your fingers together. 

“Yes. From their son and his girlfriend. I think you deserve a proper introduction, after all.”

Tugging you across the floor, he gave you no time to prepare, and certainly, none to disagree, as you smoothed your hair and attempted to control the blush he’d brought to your cheeks. Through the crowds he wove, until he was pulling to a stop just shy of his parents, and Enzo looked as though he could have cried with relief when Lucius’ intense focus was taken away from him. The boy quickly slipped away as both of Draco’s parents turned to face you. 

“Miss (Y/l/n), when we said we hoped to see you again soon, I didn’t realise you’d take it quite this literally.” He murmured, voice as low and calm as always, and your lips parted, a different kind of heat flooding your features. 

“Oh, behave now, Lucius,” Narcissa grinned, her gaze dropping to your clasped hands, before she reached up to her son’s face, pinching his cheek with a smile. “Draco, darling, I’ve hardly seen you all evening.”

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you Mother, but we’ll be leaving early.” She only gave him a knowing look, ignoring Lucius’ displeased huff, as if she wasn’t surprised at all. 

“‘We’?”

“My girlfriend and I.” He said, proud and strong, before tugging you forward a little more to stand in front of him. His hand left your own, circling your waist instead, and she offered him a smile at the news. 

“I see.” She smiled, patting her son’s cheek affectionately, before turning that knowing gaze on you. “Now Lorenzo’s evasiveness whenever I asked him about you makes sense.”

“You asked about me?” Your words were a rushed squeak, which only seemed to amuse Narcissa more. 

“Of course, dear. I wanted to know more about you. I’d ask you to sit and chat with me for a spell, but I believe my son might combust if I did.”

“Mother!” He gasped, and Lucius only tutted. 

“Draco.” His father growled softly, shaking his head, and the red on his son’s cheeks only grew.

“You both may go, for now. But I hope you’ll visit me soon, and we might talk?”

“You mean… just us?” Your words tapered off to a near whisper, and Lucius smirked to himself as Draco rolled his eyes. 

“Yes, dear. We’ll have tea.”

You could only nod, bidding your final farewells to them both in a state of awe, before Draco was hurrying you along. Tight hands gripping your waist, lips on your neck as he loved you through the crowds, swiping up your bag and giving you barely a moment to say goodbye to your friends before sweeping you away again. It was only due to the snow falling outside, you were sure, that he allowed you to stop long enough to get your coats. 

Helping you, he lifted the garment onto you from behind, kissing your cheek as he reached around your body to fasten it. His elegant coat was already on, and leather gloves were on his hands as he offered you one. Lacing your fingers through his own, he smiled, tugging you out into the freezing night, and ushering you around the side of the Manor, away from the stream of cars lined up for guests as they left. 

“Where are we going, Dray?” 

“To one of the gardens near the path.” He never turned back, leading you carefully around patches of ice and slippery snow as you moved, the light from the house fading. It was almost pitch black, before he mumbled a small spell, and the garden lights glowed to light, glittering on the fresh blanket of ice. 

Sitting on the grass was an old-fashioned sleigh, enchanted to keep dry, even in the snow, and two reindeer sat happily in the snow snuffling at the grass and scattered food. 

The landscape stretched out far before you both, trees and grass and walls all covered in snow like something from a Christmas card, and the sigh that left your lips clouded in the air before your face. 

“Oh, Draco…” Taking a few steps closer, snow-tipped over the tops of your heels as you stepped off the pathway onto the grass, chilling your feet for only a second, before Draco was following. Scooping you up into his arms, you kicked the ice from your feet with a giggle, your arms looping around his neck. “What’s all this?”

“This is your Christmas present. I didn’t realise that was the kind of ice you wanted instead.” He muttered, eyes flicking down to your neck, as he carried you carefully through the snow and towards the ornate sleigh. As you leaned in to kiss his cheek, he smiled shyly, avoiding your gaze as he became embarrassed, “I wanted to do something romantic for you. We can take the sleigh back to the town, get a cab, and take the jet anywhere you want to go. Pansy already packed a bag for you.”

He placed you down on the edge of the sleigh, letting you shuffle across onto the warmed leather. With another kiss to your lips, he scoffed at your smile. 

“Merry Christmas, my wicked little girlfriend.”

“I can’t believe you arranged all this.” You were practically bouncing in your seat, watching as Draco nervously tugged on the reins, prompting the lazy animals to stand back up, before settling into the sleigh himself. Like they knew just what to do, they took off in a slow trot, tugging the pair of you along through the snow. 

“Maybe if you’d have waited, instead of making me fight for my life tonight, you’d have been surprised.”

His arm was splayed along the back of the seat, and you snuggled in a little closer to him. Curling his arm around you, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, shaking his head and burying his nose in your hair. “If I didn’t make you fight for me, Dray, you’d probably have introduced me to your mother as your study partner. I gave you a little push, that’s all.”

“Is that so?” He muttered, guiding your face up so he could peck your lips. “Who do you think helped me arrange all of this for my ‘lovely lady friend’, hm? I’ve been writing to my mother about having an interest in someone for months now. You underestimate me.”

“You never gave me any other indication!” 

“Oh, please. You walk me like a damn dog, you knew how I felt.” His mouth closed over your own, stealing a kiss, and you couldn't help but smile into it. “I think tonight just proves it.”

The sleigh trotted on as Draco kissed you in the back, beyond thought and reason, your hands tucked into his coat for warmth as he kept you cuddled in close to his side. 

Minutes melted away, the two of you lost in your own world as you jostled and trotted through the fields, back toward the town. Whatever he had planned, it had been in motion for days, and the thought only made you fall a little more in love with him. Perhaps you had underestimated him, but none of it mattered now, not when he was kissing you like you were his only way to breathe, and you had him in your arms, properly, at last.

“So, Pansy knew about your little plan?”

“Yes. I told her days ago.” 

“Hm…” You loved her, and it was perhaps her knowledge of Draco’s actions that made this all the funnier. “So, she knew about your plan, and mine. And still, she made sure to introduce guys to me all night. She played us both just for her own amusement.”

As you thought of her, your fingers lifted to your neck, sitting on the delicate jewellery there, and Draco huffed. Looping his finger underneath it, he tugged lightly. “Can you take this off now, please?”

“Why would I do that?” His pout deepened, glaring at the offending item, and you gave in with an airy laugh. “Pansy, Daph and Tori picked it out personally.”

“What?” His head snapped up, pout gone as his jaw dropped, and he was not laughing like you were. “You let me believe another guy decked you out in diamonds all night! What about the matching earrings?”

“Blaise.”

“The bracelet?”

“Theo and the Notts.” 

At that mention, his eyes narrowed again, searching for your clutch and finding it resting in your lap. “But Theo’s cousin Mario gave you a separate gift.”

“Dario.” You corrected, and he mimicked it childishly, scoffing afterwards. “Well, that part was real. He truly was flirting, and I have no idea what it is, I haven’t opened it yet.”

“Give it to me.” He reached for your bag, a second too slow as you swiped it away from him with a gasp. He didn’t give up, still trying to snatch it as he leaned over you, pressing you back into the seat through fits of laughter, the two of you fighting over the bag until it was pressed to your chest, your eyes wide as you stared up at him, shaking your head. “Give it to me! I’m chucking it, hand it over!”

“No, it’s mine!” He slumped back into his seat, panting for breath and smoothing his hair back down. He was pointedly staring away in the opposite direction, and when you leaned in closer with a chuckle, he leaned away. Grabbing his shoulder, you planted yourself firmly in his lap, kissing the underside of his jaw. “I’m keeping it, but your present is better, I just know it. Whatever it is, could never beat this.”

“Promise?”

“I promise, Dray.” 

He gave in, wrapping his arms around your waist, tugging you in closer to his body and pressing a happy kiss to your cheek. “Fine, but I’m buying you a new necklace when we get off the damn plane. I don’t care who bought that one.”

[aluciahaz]

Omfggg ur writing is SO unbelievably good i love it sm 😭🙏🙏

I got kind of a prompt for a sub!vox x gn (maybe afab) reader ✨ Okay so what if, since we all know vox is OBVIOUSLY a bratty bottom, the reader fucks the brattiness out of him? And he goes from trying to be a dom, to resistant bottom, to bratty bottom, to just begging to come with all his life, maybe even crying cuz the reader won’t let him

TYSM!!!! im glad you think my writing’s good ❤️ALSO FINALLY A VOX REQ AGHH

i have like 50094949 drafts for like all of the other stuff in my inbox but i just have to write this vox fic first ok im self indulgent i apologize 😭

—vox x gn!reader

—includes : sub!vox, dom!reader, light bondage, edging

vox is so obvious.

he clearly has a thing for control. a need, a desire. it was practically his core personality trait. yet, he’s most certainly not made to wield it.

sure, he can try and sweet talk you, saying sultry things and bragging about his power in order to get you to feel below his level. but you know how frail that persona is. a single slip up, and it would all come crashing down into deafening static.

which, was almost impressively easy to do.

his claw-like fingers runs up your neck, one of them stopping at your cheek as he smirked. if he wasn’t careful, he could fuck up and draw blood. he was tip-toeing the small line here.

a small line that if he crossed, you’d switch up this silly little game immediately, taking the control of the show and making him the contestant.

live only for you.

but, you entertain his farce of dominance, a smile playing on your lips as you see what he has in store…if he had anything, that is.

“you’ve been waiting for me all day, haven’t you?” he asks, clearly rhetorical as he caresses your cheek gently, his voice steady as he speaks. he leads you down to the bed with teeth raking your neck as he crawls over you. there’s something fun about watching him try and fluster you, to get you to say the things he wants. but you were no people pleaser.

“perhaps. unfortunately i can’t say the same for you,” you respond, your smile forming into more of a smirk at the ends of your lips as your hands snake around his delicate waist, tightening around it like a corset.

you can already see the hesitation in his eyes, the brief moment of surprise at your sudden grasp. it was too easy to surprise this man. it’s a wonder he hasn’t exploded yet.

“what do you mean by that?” he asks, his eyebrows furrowing in both nervousness and curiosity, almost like he didn’t want to know. the fingers on your cheek seem to barely just get too rough as he looked at you.

“don’t act like i didn’t hear you in the office this morning, moaning my name like some prayer,” you mock, your knee slotting between his legs with ease. vox keels over at the sudden feeling, a sharp gasp getting punched out of his system with little effort.

“impatient.”

“what’s the big deal? am i not allowed to jerk off anymore?” he complains, bringing himself back up to his hand and knees over you as he glares with indignation.

“i told you to wait.”

“and i don’t remember needing to!” vox snarled, the grasp on your face tightening until you saw him pull it away, a droplet of blood adorning his finger.

simply unacceptable.

instantly, with a loud yelp of complaint and confusion, he hits the mattress with a thud, cursing in annoyance as he looks up at you. his face, once filled with irritation, shifted into one of almost astonished fear as he gazed upon your expression, cold and unforgiving.

“i’ll make you remember.”

his screen flickers before going back to normal, his face scrunched up in anger as he spat out his unwise words.

“i’d like to see you try.”

so, try you did.

his hands were cuffed with plush handcuffs to the bed-frame—you know he wouldn’t be able to handle real ones—and of course since he was never good with self-control, he had a cock ring on as a ‘treat’.

you’re delighted by how much of a fight he puts up though. considering how fragile his ego is, you were sure that he’d melt into your hands the moment you bound him to the bed.

“this is your plan?” vox rolled his eyes, watching you pour lubricant on your fingers with an unimpressed look. “not very impressive. you’ll need more—ngh! shit! give a guy some warning—!”

“beggars can’t be choosers.”

“i don’t fucking beg—!”

“you will.”

there was no mercy from that point forth. one finger after the other, shocks of electricity would course through his veins, mouth agape as your quick hand inside kept making him feel sparks of pleasure through his entire body.

“let me—cum! ass—zz—hole!” he shouted, tugging at the handcuffs to no avail. he wanted to touch himself so bad, yet you were adamant.

“if you ask nicely, maybe,” you tell him, circling your fingers before pressing deep onto that electric spot again, making him cry out in frustration and enjoyment.

all he could do was shoot you a disgusted look before yelling once more, kicking the blanket underneath him in exasperation. his anguish crackled through his veins like a current, trying to fight the urge to just submit.

but it was all too much. he was weak, even if he convinces all of hell that he’s not, he wouldn’t be able to fool you. the bucks of your fingers were replaced with the movement of your hips, making him wail for more.

an hour had passed, and his indignant claims of “i don’t feel anything!” or “you’ll never get me to beg!” shifted into more pleasant glitching screams of “don’t stop!” and “please, more!”

finally, he was using his manners.

“let me cum—ple—zz—se! i c-can’t—!” vox cried out as you quicken the pace, thrashing underneath you with his legs now wrapped around your waist, holding for dear life as you drive into him.

“i—hic—mm! ‘m s—zz—sorry! ‘msorry-AH! sorry!” his back curves off the bed as he squirms, crying in earnest now. tears fell his face with broken pixels blinking in and out underneath, his screen cutting at random points to an error warning from the overstimulation.

“pathetic,” you spit out, your hands digging into his hips as you practically manhandled the man, making him move once he lost all the energy to match your movements. “you listen to me. you do what i say, and you don’t talk back.”

you hear him shriek desperately as you grab his cock, red and weeping as you overwhelm him with pleasure, but never letting him over the edge.

“do you understand? you’re mine.”

you run your finger underneath his tip, and you see him glitch out into an expression you truly loved.

his screen was tear stained and his were graphics broken, yet it was clear enough to see the hypnotizing hearts that pulsated in his eyes as he yelled in defeat, small whimpers leaving his ruined throat as he babbled on and on.

“yours! your—yours! ngh—! please! pl—let me cum! plea—zz—oh, FUCK!”

his whole body trembles from need like electricity burned his skin. his legs fall from your waist, too weak to hold them around you anymore, yet you catch them, pushing the underside of his thighs until he was folded in half.

“cum for me then.”

instantly, vox does as you say as you slip the cock ring off of him, his wails loud enough to shake the room as he finds his release. his screen completely blanks out for a second as a shock flitters around his wrists, frying the cuffs and making them break into two before slumping back down to the bed.

you can’t even scold him for letting his powers go rampant before he pulls you over him, wrapping his arms around you as he sniffles into your ear.

“thank you—hic—thank…thank…”

this big baby. you sigh, rubbing your hands on his sides gently as you kiss his cheek. “yeah, yeah. just remember this the next time you think about acting out, okay?” you said quietly, feeling him nod into your shoulder as he starts to slowly relax.

but as per usual, he apparently forgets what you taught him in the next week.

fortunately, you’re a patient teacher. and you’ll remind him again and again about the lessons he foolishly dismisses.

sorry that this is shit 💀 i tried my best but the writing juices arent flowing this week😭 hopefully this weekend i wont have writer’s block and will blast through all yall’s reqs!! trust me, im working on them <3

tags: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @drlucichen @mvskedxrtist

[futuremrsreid]

Watching (S.R)

Summary: Spencer sleeps over at y/n's place and hears something he isn't supposed to.

Content Warnings: 18+, SMUT, downright filthy smut, voyeurism, dubious consent, humiliation, basically reader is wanking and spencer watches without her knowing

Authors Note: I am obsessed with writing morally wrong fics, but I guess this isn't for everyone so please read the CW before you read!!!

“Perverted”, “Scandalous”, “Creepy”- Those were the words that I would have used to describe myself at this moment.

The night had started innocently enough. Y/n and I were having one of our monthly movie nights. We ordered pizza, watched a new release that we had been waiting for for months, and had some wine. Though, as it usually does with y/n, some wine turned into 2 bottles of the dark liquid. I wouldn’t have called myself drunk, but she insisted that I should not drive in that state. It wasn’t the first time I had slept over at her apartment, but this time, I wished that I had just gotten into my fucking car.

While I got ready for bed in the bathroom, y/n was preparing the couch for me since I always refused to take the bed. She still put up a fight every time, as if she didn’t do the same when she slept over at my place, and then pettishly prepared the couch. It was cute, just like every single thing about her was.

I sighed as I spit the toothpaste in the sink, thinking about how much it sucks to be in love with your best friend. Friends to Lovers…yeah, I wish. They make it look so easy on screen, but in reality, it just sucks. I contemplated telling her countless times, but the risk of losing her is too much. Even if she felt the same, relationships can end, people can fall out of love, and then you are left with nothing. I’d rather stick to yearning for the rest of my life.

When I left the bathroom, she was already waiting for me and we exchanged goodnights as we passed each other. Sleeping on the couch really didn’t sound so bad when the alternative was potentially losing her.

That didn’t mean that I didn’t lie awake thinking about what it would be like to sleep in the same bed as her and wake up next to her though. Most times I barely got any sleep, like tonight.

I tried falling asleep for 30 minutes before I gave up and turned the TV back on. I was barely able to hear the show that was running, but I hoped that concentrating on it would make me tired. It would have worked, but just as I was about to drift off to sleep, there was the faintest sound coming from y/n’s bedroom. It was so quiet that I wondered if I had just imagined it, but as I looked at the door, I saw that she didn’t close it properly, presumably by accident.

I closed my eyes again because people make noises in their sleep all the time, especially her, but a few seconds later, there was another noise. It sounded like a whimper, and this time I was sure that I had actually heard it. I contemplated what to do. Y/n had nightmares all the time, as should be expected in our line of work, but sometimes it was worse waking her up than just letting her sleep through it. Though thinking about the time when she scratched herself so hard that she woke up with blood under her fingernails, I got up anyway.

That was the first mistake I made that night.

I swear my thoughts were innocent when I went to push open the door, I just wanted to prevent her from hurting herself, so I was absolutely not prepared for the sight in front of me when the door fell open enough for me to look inside.

Y/n was lying on top of the bed, one hand in her panties and the other clutching the sheets. I froze. I know I should have just quietly closed the door and gone back to bed, but I didn’t.

That was the second mistake I made that night.

I kept my eyes on her, carefully memorizing everything I saw before me, storing it away in my endless memory. The way she arched her back while drawing slow circles over her clit, the way her shirt rose up because of that, and how the exposed skin of her legs and stomach looked in the faint moonlight that was streaming through her window.

The thing that got to me most though, was the look on her face. Her mouth was slightly agape, brows furrowed and her eyes clenched shut. It was absolutely mesmerizing, she was absolutely mesmerizing, and every detail of it was burned into my brain.

I knew how wrong it was, watching her like this in such a vulnerable moment, but I couldn’t look away. I was convinced the gods themselves were punishing me by putting such a sight in front of me and expecting me to walk away from it. It was utterly fucked up.

Another whimper left her, louder this time and she bit her lip, trying to keep herself quiet. God, she was trying not to wake me up but here I was, standing at her door and watching her.

Her underwear was pink, and even though it was almost dark in her room, I could still see the wet spot on it. I felt like I didn’t have any control over my body as my hand made its way to the bulge that was growing in my pajama pants, the pants she got me for my birthday. I remembered the look on her face as I unwrapped the fish print fabric, eyes full of excitement and the innocence that was always on her face. Well, most of the time anyway, because right now, there was no innocence in sight.

I was a sick man.

Her hand picked up the pace and I could hear the wet sounds it made. She sighed and threw her head back the same moment that my own hand found its way into my pants, thumb brushing over the precum-covered tip of my cock. I swallowed the groan that threatened to leave my throat when her other hand wandered to her breast, squeezing it, while I was stroking myself as fast as I could without making any sound.

It was then that I noticed the thing that would forever exile me from heaven and condemn me to a life in hell because while she lay there pleasuring herself, she was wearing my shirt, the shirt I had worn yesterday night in the cheap hotel room we were sharing. I had searched the whole room for it this morning, she helped me look.

I had to bite my lip to prevent a moan from escaping. Not only did she steal my shirt, but she also lied to me and was now wearing it while she fucked herself. The thought of my sweet and innocent best friend doing such a filthy thing almost pushed me over the edge, but like the sick masochistic pervert that I was, I gripped the base of my cock to keep me from cumming so soon. I wanted to watch her fall apart first, knowing if my orgasm finished washing over me first I would feel so guilty and sick I’d probably run to the bathroom to throw up and miss the best part.

The faster her hand moved and the closer she got, the more her sounds increased in volume. It’s fascinating how being aroused shifts your perception of the world around you because I would bet that she didn’t realize how loud she was getting. It didn’t matter anyways because the person she tried to keep quiet for was standing in the dark watching her.

When a whine escaped her, and her thighs started trembling, I knew she was close, so I started to increase my pace. I wanted to come with her, watch her fall apart and use it to reach my own climax.

My hand moved frantically around my cock and when her face scrunched up in pleasure and her thighs closed around her hand, I imagined how they would feel clenching around me. It was that thought that finally pushed me over the edge and made me spill my cum into my underwear. I bit down on my tongue hard and continued stroking myself while coming down, the same way she did.

When her hand stilled and she huffed out a breath, I knew I had to move fast. As quietly as I could I closed the door the same way it was before I had entered earlier and rushed to the bathroom. I cleaned myself up as best as I could and decided that I preferred to sleep in cum covered underwear instead of no underwear at all.

I caught my breath and tried not to think about what I had just done, but when I opened the door to go back to bed, y/n stood in front of me.

“Hi”, she almost squeaked when she saw me. Looking at her face, warm and splotchy from her orgasm, I felt myself getting hard again. I cleared my throat.

“Hi yourself”, I replied, acting like the last 10 minutes didn’t actually happen.

“You’re still awake”, she said and I saw realization wash over her face. To go to the bathroom, you had to walk by her room, and she must have noticed that her door wasn’t closed when she got up. She stood in front of me frozen and I hate to admit how much the sight turned me on. She thought I heard her. God if she knew.

I tried to be a good person, to be a gentleman, and let it go. Let her go to the bathroom to clean herself up and never talk about it again, but I just couldn’t.

“Yeah, I, uh, I couldn’t sleep”, I started and tilted my head to fake a concerned look,” By the way, are you okay? I heard some noise coming from your room. Did you have a nightmare again?” I was a sick perverted man, but the horror that washed over her face at my words almost made me take her right there against the wall.

“Uh yes. Yes, I did, but I’m fine! I’m awake, the nightmare is over. I really need to pee though so… goodnight Spence. Sleep well.” And with that, she started to move around me. I could have just let her go but it was too easy, the opportunity too great not to take it.

“Hey, is that my shirt? I was looking for it all morning.” She almost tripped when the words left my mouth.

“Oh, this was the shirt you lost? I thought it was mine, my bad. You’ll uh, get it back washed and folded just the way you like it. Goodnight!”, y/n rushed out and quickly closed the bathroom door and locked herself inside it.

It was quiet for a moment and then I could hear the faintest “fuck” from behind the door.

[freeuselandonorris]

playboy in the grotto directors cut? i love that one, the lovely details like lando pronouncing degrees C as "sees" <3

🥹 piss fic my beloved!!

this was the first landoscar fic i wrote and i actually didn’t know a huge amount about how to write their personalities at the time — i’d written a bit of lando as a supporting character in previous fics but that was about it, and i’d never tried to write oscar at all. @scenetocause gave me the prompt and i remember just being shocked how naturally it came to me to write their dialogue and how much fun i found it to write their silly, funny back-and-forth.

usually when i read back my early fics from writing a pairing, i find myself getting frustrated because i can see all the bits where my characterisation feels off or the dialogue doesn’t ring true in their voice (this always comes with time once i’ve absorbed 1482902 hours of interview clips and properly caught the cadence of how they speak) BUT actually i think with this one i did manage to capture them pretty well from the off, lando in particular. the 40-sees bit is one of my favourite examples because yeah i DO think lando would say that even now! (i also still think he doesn’t know how to work a washing machine.) also lando disparagingly referring to “the straights” and mocking george for thinking blowjobs are some sort of exciting sexual fringe behaviour (again, i stand by this). lando chewing on oscar’s foot and oscar getting the ick not from lando’s foot fetish (fun fact, i wrote this before i found out about lando’s supposed actual real life foot kink lmao) but by the feeling of wet sock. lando saying that lap pissing IS SO a thing because he saw it on xHamster (it is). it just feels very fun and silly and unforced because i wrote it very quickly and i didn’t really have to fight to get it into shape.

i would definitely not usually have my first entry into a pairing (especially one that’s ended up as popular as landoscar, although it wasn’t when i posted it!) be a a pretty niche subkink of an already polarising kink lmao, but actually i’m really happy that it was because it enabled me to really establish my headcanon of lando as a vile little gremlin and oscar as a very broad church of openness to perversity early doors, a characterisation that’s served me well in subsequent fics. also piss kink is just insanely hot to me and i always want to see more of it, be the change you want to see in the world etc etc.

(side note: if you’re into the kind of piss kink explored in this fic, i would be remiss not to rec @glasscushion’s absolutely INSANE rule 63 lesbian piss fic posted yesterday, she begs harder but she’s so soft. i still have not recovered.)

[babygirllinds]

WIP Masterlist

kitten - Icemav

Mav wears the collar Ice bought him to get what he wants in order to cure the feeling of emptiness he woke up with.

Very smutty (remember that self-indulgent fic I said I was writing a couple weeks back? Yeah, this is it)

Includes: dom/sub, cockwarming, slight daddy kink (I might indulge in this one more, but idk yet), dumbification/degradation, and I guess you could say petplay because Mav wears a collar and Ice calls him kitten/kitty, but Mav does not act like a cat

cowboy like me - Icemav

Song/lyric fic. Ice tries really hard to ignore the temptation of danger that is Maverick. He worked really hard to get where he was and his feelings for Mav could crumble that in seconds. Maverick is just in love and wants Ice to see that loving him might be worth the risk.

Smut/angst fic

This fic deals with Ice’s internalized homophobia and how he’s trying hard to ignore his feelings because it feels wrong, but also so, so right.

you’re my favorite secret - Icemav

Rear Admiral Tom Kazansky spent his whole life fighting to get to where he was. He’s the best of the best; entirely focused on his career and climbing through the ranks. That is until he meets a young lieutenant by the name of Pete Mitchell. He risks everything just to get a taste of life with Maverick in it.

Smut fic

Power imbalance relationship with a higher ranking military official. Obvious older man/younger man relationship with an age difference of 20 years (Ice will be in his 40s & Mav in his 20s)

stay in my arms - Icemav

Ice and Mav’s leave time lines up after months of not seeing each other and Mav invites Ice on a last minute road trip to go see Carole and Bradley. No matter how aloof Ice acts, he’s excited to be spending his time off with the man he’s in love with.

Smut fic that will most likely be turnt into a multi-chapter

Includes lots of mutual pining and only one bed trope!!!

words aren’t enough - Icemav

Sarah brings by a box of letters Ice had accumulated over the years, all addressed to one Pete Mitchell. Never sent and never seen, but holding all of the words he wasn’t brave enough to say. Maverick mourns a new loss in his life after already mourning the physical loss of Ice.

This is not smut! Surprise! I’d say it’s more T rated because of cussing and descriptions of homophobia, but it’s relatively tame for the most part, but lots of angst!!!

Descriptions of anxiety attacks and Maverick’s own internalized homophobia. Mentions of Ice’s death and how Maverick is navigating it.

the babysitter - Icemav

Pete is babysitting for the perfect family for extra money while in college. He adores the kids and the parents are absolutely gorgeous. He can’t help his budding feelings for the dad when he starts working from home rather than being out all the time for his job. He doesn’t plan on doing anything about his feelings, but then Tom Kazansky makes things difficult when he makes the first move.

Smut fic

Another power imbalance fic bc why not??? Obvious age gap relationship, but everyone is of age (Maverick is in his early 20s and Ice is in his late 30s)!!! Ice has a wife and kids in this one, folks, so cheating will happen

smooth operator - Icemav

Pete is straight… or so he thinks. He can’t stop thinking about Tom Kazansky — asshole extraordinare. He calls a phone sex line to help find where he stands on his sexuality. He asks for a man and winds up with someone named Ice. Ice is nice and comforting and he makes him feel good. He soon finds out that his true identity is someone he knows all too well…

Smut fic (I’m planning on making this a two-parter from both of their perspectives, but I only have some of Mav’s pov written at the moment)

AU!!! Frenemies to lovers type beat. Baby gay Mav trying to navigate his feelings for men (specifically Ice)

Let me Teach you a Lesson or Two - Icemav

Chapter 7: Tom decides it’s time to address his missing book but also rewards Pete for taking his pills consistently along with getting good marks on his recent exam.

Smut fic

Slips further into dom/sub relationship dynamics & soft dom!Tom really comes out to play (Pete finds out the wonders of being a rope bunny)

I saw him first - Slicemav

Chapter 2: Slider finds an opening when he catches Maverick alone in the locker room. Ice stumbles upon the two of them while looking for his RIO. The door ends up locked and Maverick finds himself being propositioned by both men. He’s shocked to say the least, but he’s not entirely opposed to the situation at hand.

Smut fic

Locker room sex because why not?

obey the motto - Slimav

Slider lives by the motto: flying comes first, loyalty comes second, and short pretty brunettes come last. Slider loves the feeling of being in the air, so he ensures he’ll do whatever it takes to keep that. Enter Iceman who becomes his pilot and makes sure they stay at the top by the way he flies. Then comes Maverick, the prettiest short brunet he’s met in a while. Then he witnesses the way Ice stares at Maverick and suddenly he’s reminded of his loyalty because without it, he’s not in the air being the best of the best.

Smut/angst fic

Lots of pining and unrequited love in here (between literally everybody). There will be lots of angst for Ice because Slimav is endgame in this

sweet on you - Slimav

Slider’s public distaste for Maverick to others is far from the truth. He finds himself with a soft spot for Maverick and enjoys the way they interact. It’s never-ending taunts and jokes that Maverick matches head on and makes Slider feel like he can be himself. Now he can’t stop picturing him in his bed and seeing how sweet on him he really was.

Smut fic

Friends to lovers and lots of pining

could this be more? - Slimav

Maverick keeps finding himself in someone else’s bed and then sneaking out in the middle of the night, but this time he finds himself sneaking out of bed with someone he knows personally. Slider proposes a solution.

Smut fic, possibly a multi-chapter fic

Friends with benefits to lovers!!! I’ve never done a FWB fic before so this is new, but I absolutely love the idea with Slimav

hungry for you - Slimav

Slider is face to face with temptation. Temptation’s name just so happens to be Pete “Maverick” Mitchell. Slider takes the leap and Maverick pulls him in further instead of pushing him away, much to Slider’s surprise.

Smut fic

Based on this post

you’ll always be taken care of - Goosemav/Icemav

Goose had always taken care of Mav — loved him with his whole heart. Then he dies. Goose watches Mav fall into a deep depression without being able to help. He aches to find a way to make Mav feel better again, but he can’t hear or see him. He then enlists the help of the one person who happens to hear him — Ice.

Starting out as an angst/fluff fic, but will most likely diverge into smut later on (if I decide to make this a multi-chapter)

Includes notes of depression & mentions of Goose’s death

shoulder to cry on - Icemav/Slimav

Slider is there for Maverick through his grief over losing Ice. Slider is hurting just as much at losing his best friend, but right now he’s just worried about making sure Ice’s husband is taken care of per his final request. Maverick knew that Ice was his soulmate, but somewhere along the way, Slider carves a spot into his heart.

Angst fic that will most likely diverge into a smut fic bc I can’t help myself

Everyone is hurting, then some pining happens

[writingwhimsey]

All's Fair In Love and War Prologue Pt 1

Alright, here is the opening of my new fic! Featuring my MC (Ava in place of Mai), as a warrior/warlord herself! The prologue will be the same and as I write the chapters for the suitors, those will break off from the prologue. The Prologue has 3 parts. Alright, here we go and I hope you guys enjoy!

Prologue Part 1

I stood, panting as I looked around me, my sword still held defensively in my hands. My enemies lay in a circle of bodies at my feet. I turned my gaze from the ground to the group that still remained, ready to challenge me. Or at least they had been.

“Fall back! Retreat! Retreat!” Their commander ordered.

The groups that had been fighting around me began to break up as the enemy began to run away, their proverbial tails tucked between their legs. My forces had won.

“Do we pursue, commander?” Jiro, my right-hand man asked.

“No.” I answered. “They won’t be returning to threaten our lands again.”

It was hours later that my men and I were returning home. I walked up to the manor of my family, Father waiting on the veranda and Mother rushing out to the path to greet me. “Ava! Dear! You’re covered in blood! We must get you to the healers right away!”

“There’s no need, Mother...” I began to protest.

“Ava, being covered in this much blood is not normal. You’re clearly hurt!”

“Kaede, calm down.” Father said as we reached him on the porch. “None of that is her blood.”

She turned to look at me. “I should have known…just like your father.” She said with a sigh as she pulled a hand towel from her robes and began to wipe at my face.

“I probably should have cleaned up better before coming back home.” I said.

“Probably.” Father agreed with a smile. “But your mother would have found something to fuss over anyways.”

Mother looked at Father. “Riku, you know I only do this because I love our daughter and worry for her, just as I have loved and worried over your sorry butt all these years.”

“Come on, let’s get inside. Ava get cleaned up and then give me a full report.”

“Yes, Father.” I replied with a bow before heading to get a bath and fresh clothes. Afterwards I was sitting in the main hall with Father and Jiro. Apparently while I had been getting cleaned up, Father had sent for Jiro and asked for a report from him as well.

“The word is already started to get around about how fierce our lady commander is, Lord Riku.” Jiro informed my father.

“Is that so?” Father asked.

Jiro nodded. “Yup, they’re calling her the Tiny Terror of the Yamada clan.”

“I had no idea I’d already earned such a moniker.” I said with a look of indifference, though I had to admit I liked it.

Father chuckled. “I would expect nothing less from my daughter.” He said, smiling with pride. “You were born into this world in battle. Clearly you were made for it.”

“Only because I had excellent teachers.” I replied. Father had taught me everything I knew. Jiro had also been by my side in my training. It hadn’t always been the easiest relationship between us, but eventually he came to see me as his equal…and accept me as my father’s successor.

It was strange how I had come to be in this role in the first place. I wasn’t always the daughter of a daimyo. I wasn’t always in this place of chaos and war at all. I had actually been born centuries later…and yet I somehow ended up here. Though it had happened so long ago now that I knew this was my true home. I had been here longer than I had in my original time now…or at least very close to it.

You see, I had been a teenager when I arrived in the Sengoku…a bit of a troubled one from my time in fact. My parents had died when I was young and I had spent my modern life in an orphanage…or girls’ home as it had been called. I had a lot of anger and resentment…and well it had me in and out of trouble. Constantly getting in fights at school and the like.

Anyway, I had been on a school trip to Kyoto. I was visiting the Hono-ji monument when a sudden storm hit. Lightning struck close by…for a moment I thought I had been hit as the world slipped away around me. I couldn’t see or feel anything. Then when the world came rushing back to me…it did so with frightening clarity. I was suddenly in the middle of a battlefield, surrounded by men in armor and bodies.

I hadn’t been sure of what exactly to do, but I knew I had to do something so that I didn’t get completely clobbered. I really didn’t want to die and especially not like a frightened child. So, I grabbed a random sword from one of the dead and started trying to fight my way out. I think adrenaline had completely taken over me at that time as I had no idea what I was doing. Just randomly swinging the sword and hoping to hit something.

Riku had been in that battle and eventually found me and helped me out. That was how I ended up meeting the man I would come to call my father. He took me into his home, cared for me, and trained me. Kaede had instantly taken a liking to me and fussed over me as if I were her daughter right from the start. Eventually they decided to adopt me and make me theirs as they had never been able to have children of their own. Honestly, I felt more suited to this life than I ever had in my original time anyways. I had a family now…and something to fight for. Something to protect. I had a family and a land filled with everyday citizens to keep safe. I had a home.

After finishing giving our report, my mother was coming in to let us know the banquet preparations had been completed. We were soon gathering in the main hall with all of our men for a victory celebration.

Sake flowed and food was gobbled up. Tales of our most recent battle rang out as our soldiers filled my father in on everything.

“There I was surrounded by our enemy, I was prepared to go down swinging…but then the commander came and she took out the entire ring surrounding me!” Junichiro, one of the younger members of our forces spoke.

“The Tiny Terror of the Yamada Clan is a force to be reckoned with for sure!”

“It was her quick thinking and ability to change strategy quickly that really got us out of a couple of tough spots!”

I could feel my cheeks reddening at all of their praise. “And what good is a commander if she doesn’t have the best forces in all the land behind her?” I reminded them. “You’re all just as responsible for our victory as I am. Not a single one of you is to forget your worth.”

There was plenty of fun had that night. Everyone was drinking and enjoying themselves. I decided to slip out to the garden for some fresh air and was looking up at the moon and stars. The sky was so much more beautiful here than it was in my time since there was no light pollution. You could really see all the stars.

“It’s a beautiful night.”

I turned as I saw Jiro coming out of the banquet room to join me. “It really is. Hopefully we’ll have more peaceful nights before our next battle.”

“Hopefully.” Jiro agreed. “You know I notice you looking up at the night sky a lot. You always have…though not in the same way you did when Lord Riku first brought you home.”

I smiled wistfully as I recalled the many nights I spent outside. “I used to look up at the stars for answers.” I said after a moment. “Why was I here? What was my purpose? Would I ever be the same person I was again?”

“And now you don’t look for those answers?” JIro inquired.

I shook my head. “No. Because I found those answers in the clan and in our fight to help create a better world.” I answered.

“Okay, but if you’re not looking for those answers, what answers are you looking for?” Jiro asked.

“No answers now.” I answered. “Now I just think the night sky is beautiful. All of those twinkling stars…each a light in the vastness of it all…”

“Oh, so staying humble then I see.” Jiro said with a teasing grin.

I laughed. “Something like that.” I replied. “We are small and insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but like each star we can bring a little light and hope to others.”

“You always surprise me, my lady.” JIro said.

“Oh, is that a compliment from you?” I asked, returning his teasing grin. “The man who once told me he would never follow me in battle or recognize me as a warrior or the leader of the Yamada Clan?”

“I was a stupid and jealous kid then.” Jiro replied, his face gentling. “Now, it is my honor to serve you, my lady.”

“And it is my honor to fight alongside you.” I replied.

Silence lingered between us as we both turned our gazes back to the night sky. The moon was full and shining its light down perfectly on us. After a bit, we returned to the party which went on well into the night before we were all returning to our homes and our beds.

My futon felt especially warm and welcoming after everything. It felt like I had just gotten to sleep when I jolted awake. Though I heard nothing…SOMETHING was WRONG. Every nerve ending in my body was alive and my senses on full alert.

I moved quickly and quietly, grabbing my sword. Quietly, I slipped from my room and through the halls, something compelling me to head towards my parents’ room. I wasn’t far from their room when I became aware of another presence. I turned holding my sword in a defensive stance, ready to fend off an intruder, only to be met with Jiro’s face.

We shared a look and then nodded, walking towards my parents’ room and watching each other’s backs. There was a reason Jiro was my right hand. We worked well together and had for so long now. There was no one I trusted more besides my father.

As we got closer to their room, I could hear movement. Then I heard my father, “Don’t you dare…” Before what sounded like metal connecting with a skull. Jiro and I were rushing down the hall and bursting into the room just as there was the sound of sharp metal slicing through human flesh. As soon as we were in, I saw the bodies of the only parents I had ever known hitting the floor. Blood was flowing quickly from their bodies where the swords had sliced their necks open.

I felt tears of pain, anger, and rage stinging my eyes as I looked at the enemy commander who was wiping his blade clean. He smirked at me. “Looks like we’ll get to wipe out the entire clan tonight.” He said.

I glared hard at him. “No, you signed your death warrant! You dishonorable coward! Slaughtering them in their beds!”

Though it wasn’t always wise to fight from a place of strong emotion, I had nothing but rage and anguish inside me at that moment. I could feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins. The only thing that mattered in that moment was taking down the man who had killed my parents. There were ten other men in the room, but that didn’t matter. I knew I would make them all pay.

An anguished cry of unholy anguish and rage left my lips as I raised my sword. Jiro was at my side, fighting with me as we cut through our enemies. By the time it was over, I had the man who had killed my parents on his knees, looking up at me and begging for mercy as he soon realized he had made a grave mistake.

“I’ll show you mercy by ending your miserable existence here.” I told him, my voice cold as ice.

That was when I felt Jiro’s hand on my arm. “My lady…we’ll need him for information.”

I nodded. “Take him to the dungeons…and call on Sato…she’ll make him talk.”

More of our soldiers were coming into the room, having found my parents’ guards dead. The enemy commander was taken to the dungeons and word was sent for Sato. “Let us help…with their preparations, my lady…” Ichiro, one of my men said.

“In…in a moment.” I told him. “Leave…everyone leave.”

My men looked at me a moment before leaving the room, closing the door behind them. I knelt down by the bodies of my parents. I reached my hand to my father’s face, touching his cheek. The bodies were still warm as I reached to close their eyes.

“You were too good for this, Father.” I whispered. “They never would have been able to defeat you had they fought with honor.” I looked over at my mother, a woman too good and kind for the world she was born into. “You both deserved better than…than this.”

It was in this moment, alone with their bodies that I let myself cry. I lost all control of my emotions. They didn’t deserve this fate…and here I was an orphan once more. Even as a grown woman…that was what I considered myself.

Days later, I stood dressed in my black funeral robes as I stood by the tombs where my parents were being buried. A monk was burning a special incense not far away as Jiro approached me. We both stood a moment, silent as we paid our respects to my father and mother.

“Word from Sato yet?” I asked.

“Yes.” Jiro answered. “They were mercenaries hired by the Ishihara Clan.”

“I knew those bastards wanted Father gone…wanted our land gone.” I said. “They think with Father gone that our people…our land will be for the taking.”

“What are your orders, my lady?” Jiro asked. “You are the head of the Yamada clan now. Your father left everything to you.”

I looked at my parents’ bodies, determination flooding through me. “I won’t let Father’s faith in me be destroyed…he entrusted our people to me…prepare for war. We’ll protect what’s ours and make an example of the Ishihara and anyone else who dares to think they can attack our clan and take what is ours.”

“As you command, my lady.” Jiro replied, bowing respectfully to me. “Or shall I call you Lord Yamada?”

[alister312]

HELLOGE!!!!! here are the list of ships and characters i would like to hear about from you! i would love to read your insights and thoughts about them as i feel like i could appreciate a new understanding from another perspective!

ships:

- bendy

- k2

- creek

- tolkyde

characters:

- kyle broflovski

- stan marsh

- wendy testaburger

- nichole daniels

- tolkien black

- craig tucker

DONT FEEL PRESSURED TO DO ALL OF THEM. Do the ones you really want to do!!!!!!! <33333 HAIII X3

RIN I LOVE YOU SO I WILL DO MY BEST TO ANSWER ALL OF THEM

OK IM WRITING THIS AS IM POSTING TO SAY THAT I DID ANSWER ALL OF THEM AND IT'S. well it's a lot 😅 and since i care about my followers' dashes i'm putting it all below the cut.

Bendy is a ship that I’ve mentioned before that I’m fairly neutral on, mostly because I’ve got a number of ships for Bebe and Wendy I much prefer for both of them… pretty much all of them being het ships actually? I hardcore headcanon both of them as being bi but having a preference for guys. I think if they were to get together, it’d be something neither of them expect, but it’d just sort of… happens. Like they’re talking to one another about dating or something and they both come to the realization that what they want out of a relationship is what they already have with each other. I think sort of because of that they’d never officially get married? That, or they’d do a courthouse marriage. No big fancy ceremony. They’re very loving and supportive of each other and are almost always on the same page. The strike me as the type to actually be more of a career power couple than adopt, but if they did they’d be the best moms.

K2 is one of those ships that I’ve mostly shipped because others shipped them so, I’ll be honest, I haven’t bounced them around my brain that much! I do see them as the type who always have each other’s back which I think is a very good foundation for a relationship. I love Stan, but I don’t think he quite understands like Kyle and Kenny can and always are trying to do for others. I think they’d get into fights a lot initially, but eventually they realize that they want the same thing but they just have different approaches. After that, they rarely fight except for the occasional Big Fight mostly about expectations they have for one another. They’re both very confident in themselves and their actions though, so they wouldn’t bend much for the other and ultimately they both really respect that about one another.

It’s honestly hard to say more about Creek, because what can I say that countless other fans (and perhaps even the show itself) haven’t said better? I suppose what I can say is that my favorite flavor of Creek is Impastor (mostly bc of my love of religious imagery in stuff). I just love the idea of both of them defying everything everyone else expects of them for each other. I suppose they already sort of did that in real life, but it’s just fun to put it into a grander, cosmic scale for me. I do ultimately see them as being extremely domestic though, whether regular or Impastor. I feel like they’ve got dads of a daughter sort of energy? Of course they are the ultimate guinea pig dads but I think they’d also make good real human child dads as well! Tweek is absolutely the fun dad in their duo.

Tolkyde!! I always saw it called Tyde back in the day… but anyway, I always felt very “meh” on this ship for the longest time until I read a very good fic exploring the two of them (if it wasn’t untitled i’d plug it). Anyway, I think especially once Craig and Tweek start dating, Clyde struggles not having someone he can always rely on. Not that Craig wouldn’t be there for him, but I think Craig would emotionally struggle handling both Tweek and Clyde sometimes and he may unintentionally prioritize Tweek. This would lead Clyde to start looking for someone else when he gets upset and Tolkien is always down to help out. Clyde would probably struggle with really opening up, worrying that Tolkien will find him too much like Craig did, but Tolkien is much more emotionally available and that would help Clyde a lot. I think Tolkien also really needs to chill out and relax with someone who is more normal (aka not South Park levels of crazy) and Clyde is kind of average as they come, in a good refreshing kind of way. They aren’t endgame, but I think they both look back on their time together fondly.

Ok now on to characters!!

Oh Kyle… such a little guy and yet so constantly clamored over by fans from all corners of the fandom. For starters, I guess I should say that I think he’s 100% gay. Maybe tries dating girls in middle school, but it doesn’t work out. The other thing I feel the most confident saying about him is that he’s a family man. That’s been proven time and time again, but I feel it always bears repeating. He cares very deeply about his relationship with his parents and brother, and once he’s a dad, I imagine a lot of his personality does revolve around the fact that he is a dad. I don’t want to say that he’s on constantly, because that makes it sound like his familial love is a chore or fake and I don’t think it is, but I do think he puts a lot of focus on it. I do think that, because of that, him doing something with helping families in the future makes a lot of sense. Whether it’s a guidance counselor like in Post Covid or a marriage counselor, I think he’d be compelled to help others understand the value of family and togetherness like he values them.

Stan is your classic kind-hearted quarterback, the kind of guy who goes to the big game afterparty but will leave early if the person who he came with isn’t having a good time, even though he is. Perhaps controversial, but I like a bit of alcoholism mixed in with my jock Stan. I don’t love seeing him hopeless, I want him to have a happy ending, but I think Stan is someone who is often his own worst enemy. I think he gets too in his own head and he’d probably find something kind of freeing about having his thoughts a little muddled. This would freak Kyle out which would definitely make Stan turn himself around because, whether he and Kyle are dating or not, I think Stan always puts a lot of value on Kyle’s opinion of him. I can sort of imagine a life for Kyle without Stan there, but I can’t really imagine a life for Stan without Kyle there.

I love regular Wendy but honestly I sometimes I love genderfluid Wendyl more. Perhaps it’s because she’s a girl written by men who grew up in the 70s and 80s, but so many of Wendy’s internal struggles are tied to her being A Girl and needing to act the part. Whether that’s worrying about her image and photoshop or relationship woes based in her expectations for herself that she must “fix” someone, Wendy seems very upset with the idea of how she should be. I understand that women can continue to be women while also bucking gender roles, but from a self projection standpoint I like the idea of Wendyl coming to the realization that the reason (s)he disliked all the complicated rules is because (s)he just disliked gender generally, for themself at least. If she were to continue being a cis woman, then she absolutely would be the type to wear it on her sleeve. Absolutely not in a TERFy way, but in the sense that she’d be very vocal and proud about being an accomplished woman (and she would be accomplished, no doubt there).

One of my favorite headcanons I have about Nichole is that she’d be a career podcaster. She’d probably start out as an actual play podcaster with all the girls from the TTRPG club but I think she’d move on from there to have a comedy/commentary podcast and then just keep making more short podcast series about cool stuff. From there she’d probably transition into voiceover work and then writing for shows, or maybe she’d become a host personality for TV. I just think there’s something about her energy that would have people wanting to listen to her no matter what she ends up doing. There’s also just something about Nichole that makes me feel like she’d fit really well in the entertainment world. But no matter what she does, she does continue podcasting, especially to keep in touch with old friends from South Park.

I think Tolkien would be the most likely to break free from South Park, in the sense that he’d be able to get rid of that “weird small town” vibe that all of them definitely have. Like, he could go to college and be a normal guy who just occasionally pulls these wild stories out of nowhere and everyone stares at him incredulously. He’d still hang out with everyone when he’s back home, but somehow he’s managed to be both South Park normal and Normal normal. Tolkien has East Coaster energy anyway, maybe New England or New York, so if anyone is actually permanently moving out of the town, it’s him.

I know many people love the idea of Craig going to work at NASA in the future, but I really love filmographer Craig a lot! I think he’d only ever produce very underground indie stuff, but I think it’d be super helpful for him to remove himself from a situation and study his feelings for it through a camera. Obviously he’s working on his emotions via Tweek, but even still I think he’d like the initial sense of detachment he can give himself. In addition to that, I think he’d be very into media analysis. He’d be that guy who makes hours long video analysis essays about media that no one cares about except for him. It’s a good balance between creativity and logic that I think Craig can really appreciate.

[merlin-wolfgang-trades-hale]

So I saw this post 

I wanted to write more about it. Make an actual whole ass fic for it (and I might still do. I am just slowly limping out of a very foggy mindset where I’ve just been having a shit time writing or reading) 

Expanding on the dialogue of what’s already giffed, Steve tells Danny how he wants everything. Wants to be more than FWB, wants to be able to tell people who flirt with Danny in public to fuck off cos he’s taken, he wants to be undeniably part of a family outing and not just the friend who tagged along to help. He wants it all! And of course Danny says yes and Steve properly invites Danny back to his room. (part of the spiel was anyway about Danny giving up his crappy apartment and moving in with him, help Steve make the McGarrett house feel like a home and build a loving family together) 

Steve was so intense and serious though that he knew he had to put a ring on it. Except...uh oh, no ring. So big romantic gesture and this was in my mind:

“Steve?” Danny called out as he sat up and blinked his vision into focus. He frowned when he reached over and rather than landing on Steve, his arm landed on cold bed sheets. 

Getting up, unsure how to feel in the moment, he searched a moment for his underwear before heading to look for Steve. 

“After that heartfelt speech I’m tempted to feel kinda stupid waking up alone in bed with no evidence of breakfast or coffee being prepared. What? That your new go-to gimmick to get me into bed with you just cos I wanted a break?” Danny demanded as he stared down Steve, trying not to look as vulnerable as he felt. 

Steve, who was still very damp from a swim. He looked slightly panicked and hurt by the accusation and didn’t want the moment ruined. “No! I meant all of it. But I kept thinking back to some of our fights. And...I want to prove to you that I can be romantic! When it matters.” Steve then presented Danny with a shell with a shiny looking pearl inside. 

“What’s this?” 

“My attempt. Okay, I kept thinking. Or really, it popped into my mind so easily! The thought was so natural. It didn’t scare me. It didn’t make me hesitate or  make me feel anything that wasn’t pure confidence. So as it got lighter, I slipped out but it wasn’t because all I wanted was to have you back in my bed, Danny. I went out and I walked and walked the shoreline until sunrise. And the first intact seashell I saw, illuminated by the sun’s light, would be what I’d get. And I did. It’s a half shell. 

“Not too big, but big enough to fit this! It’s an edible decorating pearl that Grace brought with her that day we baked cookies here. Together. Cos the seashell...that’s the sea. A big part of who I am. The first one I saw illuminated by the sun...cos you’re my sunshine. With all the warmth and life giving, loving heat and equal raging anger that gives sunburns that aren’t a joke...and the kids!...that ones we already look after...and the ones I...the ones I want us to add...they’re our pearl. And...” 

He swallowed thickly, Danny never not interrupting him made him feel self conscious about what he was doing. Before he could lose his nerve, he gets down on one knee and offers the shell with edible pearl, “We’ll get a ring. Together. However you like it...but I had to do this now. Danny....my Danno...will you marry me?” 

[rookthorne]

Below the cut I will be closing up my participation of the event @whumptober for the year 2022 with behind-the-scenes information, the reasoning behind my choices, the symbolism, and my insight, and much more. If you have not read all the entries there will be spoilers discussed.

I also wanted to shout my gratitude from the rooftops for the people that helped me make this work, and for all they did behind the scenes:

@d-desrosiers + @thenhewaswrongaboutme + @buckyismybicycle + @natbarnes1917 + @navybrat817 + @writing-for-marvel + @fidgetforrest + all my friends in real life and my parents that unknowingly helped me, and that I pray never find this.

What is the final word count for Whumptober 2022?

55,502 words.

When did you start writing for it, and when did you finish?

I started on the 11th of September, and I finished on the 27th of October.

How many prompts and alternate prompts did you use?

I did all 31 days, but I used 45 prompts and 7 alternate prompts.

What is the shortest entry, and which is the longest entry?

The shortest is Day 24 - Lucidity - which sits on 704 words.

The longest is Day 23 - The King’s Wrath - which sits on 3,451 words.

Which entry was the hardest to write?

I’ve already discussed the hardest here, but the second hardest was Day 16 - It Lay in Vain - which tackled a trope that I’d never really delved into in as much detail this month - major character death. All other character death, whether it be major or minor, was much easier because it wasn’t by the hand of another (main) character, it was caused by an outside force or circumstance.

Bucky killing Steve was so hard to digest, and I tried really hard to capture that need to fight against his trigger words, but in the end, it didn’t save him. 

Following It Lay in Vain, Unsung Hero was tough to stomach, due to the use of CPR - which is the main reason I myself am still here. Capturing how Bucky felt afterwards led to some very tough questions I had to ask my mother (who performed CPR on me), but in the end it helped us both. 

Which entry was the easiest to write?

Easy isn’t the right word, per se, but the one I faced the least number of issues with both emotionally and technically would be The Queen’s Fury. 

That one flowed the easiest, and considering I was thinking of all the times that Juice and Bobby got shot in Sons of Anarchy (that I have seen so many times), replicating the stressful environment and the apprehension was interesting and fun.

Which entry was the most fun to write?

The King’s Wrath, by far. I have always enjoyed (probably too much) writing darker Bucky, and I had already written him for my unpublished fic; A Different Affliction, but BIKER Bucky?

He is twisted, and portraying him as a wolf that had finally caught its prey? I felt it was perfect, especially given the prompts of the day which were; at the end of their rope, forced to kneel, and “hold them down”.

Do you have any favourites?

Aside from Battle Worn, my top 5 (in no particular order) is:

Call to Arms

Animal

Victorious

The King’s Wrath

May God have Mercy on you, Because I Won’t

How easy was it for you to come up with titles for each of the fics? Do you have a favourite?

Very easy. They all came to me so, so easily and would often be a lightbulb before I start, or about a third of the way in. I either used a direct quote from the fic, or I was cryptic.

I’m gonna explain my favourites:

Day 1: Amandla This one came to me while I was listening to this, and I was thinking of T’Challa and T’Chaka’s brief scene in Civil War. It translates to ‘Strength’, and that’s what Bucky needed from Steve - to be his strength until he came back home. 

Day 3: Call to Arms I had chills when I came up with it because for the first time in my bikerverse, Bucky needed his brothers to save him.

Day 13: No Man’s Land This is more to do with both mine and Bucky’s PTSD than anything, and the reference to no man’s land is how hospitals are a battlefield for the two of us, and it is terrifying.

Day 19: Victorious My twist on the Endgame battle, c’mon, I have to be a little bit cheesy.

Day 21: Through a Soldier’s Eyes This entire fic blurs the line between Bucky Barnes in the 40’s just before he’s shipped out to war, and to when he’s the Winter Soldier. Both of which are soldiers. And living his worst nightmare, through both versions of him - oof, I felt that was a doozy.

Day 24: Lucidity This entry explored the Winter Soldier’s sudden clarity - lucidity - after a successful mission and how he couldn’t understand just what he was feeling, which made him violent and confused. Simple, but good. 

Day 30: May God have Mercy on you, Because I Won’t OH MY GOD THIS ONE This one was powerful. I originally was going to call it Merciless, but I felt it was a bit too boring, given what happens in the fic. And then I played around with symbolism and boom, it happened. 

Which headers are your favourite?

I have multiple, and like the titles, I’ll explain.

Day 2: Blue This was the first gif header I had ever made. I made sure to change the tint to reflect the name, and the wide header set it apart. 

Day 10: Animal It was purely based on the ending of this entry, the header. It really helped drive home what I was trying to write, I feel, and I love it. 

Day 11: Unsung Hero A riderless bike (we can pretend it’s Bucky’s Indian) against the backdrop of a sunset - it symbolised him being knocked down by his struggle, and the sunset meant it was the closing, like the ending, of that particular dark moment, so to speak. 

Day 15: The Queen’s Fury This is most likely entirely biassed, but battered and bloody men? They have a special place in my heart. OTHERWISE, symbolically, it’s Bucky down and out, while you, the reader, are above him - protecting him. 

Day 16: It Lay in Vain This exact moment I captured as a gif is exactly how I picture Bucky in the cell after the trigger words are spoken. Calculating, blank, and honestly, scary. 

Day 17: Biding Time PURELY SELF INDULGENT - he walks on time to Seven Nation Army in the original gif I made that is like 30mbs. 

Day 19: Victorious I really, really wanted to capture the scale of Steve’s fight in the beginning, and what better than to use the zoomed out battlefield scene? I only wish the 40mb gif I made originally was uploadable to tumblr. 

Day 21: Through a Soldier’s Eyes I felt that this shot was the clearest there was while Bucky was wearing the mask, and it played perfectly into what I wanted to visualise. Also, I can’t stop staring, so kind of self indulgent. 

Day 24: Lucidity This scene was how I pictured Bucky stalking the hallway to decontamination, and that slight pinch of his brow - I imagined it to be the look of confusion he had behind the mask when he noticed the dried blood on his hands, and the flash of a memory. 

Day 28: Lullaby for a Soldier I have @writing-for-marvel to thank for this, I had two options to pick from, and she helped me pick the right one. We went with this one because Bucky is looking up, and up at you, the reader, in one of the first scenes of the actual fic. That capture conveyed how I pictured him perfectly. 

Day 30: May God have Mercy on you, Because I Won’t Need I really say more on this one? You don’t fuck with Steve Rogers and his boy, like I said. And the emotion on Steve’s face was perfect for his reveal - I only wish I was as talented to actually blacken his eyes. 

Day 31: In the Arms of an Angel While it’s the same scene as Lullaby for a Soldier, I wanted him looking down purely for the reason because in the beginning he is so defeated. The singular feather, while it is a stretch, I made it so it symbolises that deep down, he is still an angel. 

What inspired most of your pairings (or lack of) for this event?

I had never written Stucky properly before this, and I really wanted to, so I dived into the deep end. 

My bikerverse really benefited from every entry I made for it; they added more darkness and complexity to my story that I am going to be bringing and using for all future additions. 

Writing Bucky on his own, as the Winter Soldier, was an interesting experience that I had been craving for so long. Exploring his ‘unknown years’ that we didn’t get to see in the films was always on my to do list, and they were the most intricate entries of this event for me, I feel. Capturing his fight, fear, and struggle was very draining but it opened up so many opportunities for me, and as a result, I will definitely be doing more of it. 

What did you learn from participating in Whumptober 2022?

What DIDN’T I learn is a more accurate question.

Considering the time frame I had, I did this on my own (except for two instances where I needed help - thank you @d-desrosiers and @thenhewaswrongaboutme) so I had to rely on my own editing. Also, I had help and pointers from Elsie, so an extra big thank you for that - I would be lost without it. 

I also learnt that I really can do anything with my writing. When I began this challenge, I was fucking terrified (that’s an understatement) and I almost quit on several occasions. But after all the encouragement I received from those that I shared stuff with behind the scenes, I found the strength to keep going. 

Considering the nature of my fics this entire month, I knew I was going to get a lot less engagement as a whole due to the content and warnings, but I was pleasantly surprised. Both on tumblr and AO3, my fics are performing a lot better than I anticipated and I have you guys, my followers, both old and new, to thank for that. While I know I have inflicted so much pain and tears, know that every single time you reblogged with a comment (even without), or sent me an ask/message - you have made it all worth it. 

Thank you, from the bottom of my very cold heart. 💙😂

Do you plan on any sequels/prequels to any of the entries you’ve written?

Yes. I have one entry in particular on my mind for a sequel - The Way Home - thanks to @natbarnes1917. I was keen to explore more of that in the first place, but it kinda cemented it for me, and I liked researching and learning about epilepsy and all that is involved. 

As of writing this, which is the most popular entry?

Surprisingly, here on tumblr it is No Way Out - which is shocking, because it’s hurt/no comfort. It’s followed closely by Safe Haven, which is much more understandable.

On AO3 it is May God have Mercy on You, Because I Won't, folloed by The Way Home,.

What were your favourite passages?

Oh boy. Buckle up. I’m going to pick from each entry. 

Day 1: Amandla

“Can I,” Bucky hesitated, a slight hum leaving his lips before he continued. “Can I lay there?” He was pointing at Steve’s lap. All the while Steve could feel the burn of tears building as he looked into Bucky’s face; so hesitant and unsure, scared even, to be comforted. 

“Of course you can, Buck, here,” Steve adjusted and uncrossed his ankles. Bucky slowly rested his head into Steve’s lap and Steve had to fight the urge to sob with relief. “There ya go.”

Day 2: Blue

“Sergeant-” The Asset swallowed thickly and tried again. “Sergeant Barnes,” there was a scuffling sound above his head but he ignored it, determined to continue reciting his station like he had been ordered to. “Sergeant Barnes, t-three two,” a weak cough gave him pause, “five, f-five, seven-” 

Blue. 

Blue was all he could see, it covered the broad shoulders of the man standing over him that shook his shoulders. “Bucky!” A pause and the bed shook slightly. “Oh my god,” the man said as the sound of leather being torn and metal falling to the floor. 

“Steve?”

The man rushed into sight and smiled down at The Asset, the glint in his eye only setting him on edge. He had never been looked at like that before, with such care, dare he say love, and it made his gut churn with something barely tolerable. 

“It’s me, it’s Steve,” the man said before vanishing into smoke, taking the room with him. 

Day 3: Call to Arms

The door swung open and he was met with the muzzle of a double barrel shotgun against his chest.

“Have you a moment to talk about our lord and saviour - whiskey and sweet, holy pussy?”

Steve. He had found him. 

“What the fu-”

CRACK

Jack stumbled back until his back hit a metal pole, pure shock written over his features. Blood was gushing from a gaping hole in his stomach and it pooled on the floor at his feet. “How-”

“You’ve gotten rusty, Rollins,” Steve stared at him with such fury Bucky was surprised he didn’t drop dead from it alone before the bullet killed him. “Think twice before threatening our fuckin’ family.”

Day 4: One Last Embrace

Steve, whose new stature was still an unbelievable feat to Bucky, was down in the pit of boulders and snow to go toe to toe and hand to hand with the woefully unprepared lackeys. His shield; the blue, white, and red, never ceased motion - banging to and fro between the still standing soldiers and bouncing back off of trees, only to reach Steve and start the brutal cycle once again, and again, and again. 

It felt ironic, though, just how quickly the blooming red stain had spread over Bucky’s middle and across his shirt when the shield bore no blood. 

There was no cycle of violence, there was no starting anew; there was just blood. And it was everywhere. 

AND

Bucky tried to hold on to Steve against the wave of darkness that was threatening to consume him, but it was warm there - he could see the fire escape in their apartment back in Brooklyn where Steve sat, sketching the skyline and sunset with the colours of fire. 

Bucky wanted to go back home. He wanted to go back to where the fire would consume him whole in the form of Steve Rogers, whom he had loved since they were kids. 

Warmth. Bucky wanted warmth.

One last embrace, Bucky thought serenely. A small smile of relief growing on his now chalk white face as his vision clouded and turned dark. One last embrace.

Day 5: Battle Worn

I literally cannot pick a favourite section from this fic, but, this line in particular (a quote) made me break down in tears.

A true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him. 

Day 6: A Promise

You whimpered quietly and uncurled your head slightly so your ear rested directly over his heart, the beat steady and strong. Reassuring. 

“Bucky,” you whispered. There were no more screams in the hall. “I can’t-”

“Hey,” Bucky hushed. His hand - callused, tattooed, and warm - rested against your cheek and you could feel him gently press your head into his chest. “You hear that?” His heart.

You nodded, sniffling quietly. 

“It beats for you, sweetheart,” Bucky urged, his grip never faltering. “I’m here, and I’m not leaving.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” Bucky said quietly - sealing the deal with a kiss to your temple. 

Day 7: Warmth

“How’s it feel?” Steve questioned and Bucky only looked up to him with wide, shining eyes. “‘M so proud of you, Buck.” The sudden warmth of being enveloped in a hug made him tense up for a split second, only to relax again when the realisation he was still safe washed over him. Steve held him for a few moments longer - just until Bucky’s breathing had entirely evened out again.

“Feels warm,” Bucky mumbled against Steve’s neck, “like you.” The rumble of Steve’s chest when he chuckled made Bucky smile happily, content with staying just where he was.

Day 8: Broken & Shattered

I tried really hard to build the relationship between you, the reader, and Peter in this one.

“He’s alive, he’s breathing,” Peter quickly reassured, but it was of no comfort. “I’m gonna take you there, but I need to make sure you’re not gonna pass out on me. We don’t need the two of you in there,” he huffed a laugh and you couldn’t help but twitch a tiny smile in amusement. Him and his jokes. 

Peter pulled free a helmet from his pannier and placed it on your head, securing it with a nod and goofy smile. “You with me?”

A quiet sob broke free before you could stop it and Peter only frowned, the uncharacteristic display of sadness a show of just how scared he felt. Quickly, as though to convince him you were okay, you nodded and adjusted your position on the bike so you sat comfortably on the pillion. “Atta girl,” Peter smiled and sat in front of you. “Let’s get you to Buck.”

Day 9: Safe Haven

“They’re headphones, baby,” you interrupted - you had seen the tell-tale sign of his anger born from confusion in his small head tilt. “They’ll help lessen the noise of the fireworks.” 

Bucky’s hand twitched as it grabbed a hold of one of the speakers and pulled it from the packaging. It was a navy blue pair with small cat ears poking up from the headband. Alpine sniffed at them and chirped loudly, pawing at the ears and Bucky smiled. 

The whooping got louder and you could hear the fizzle of small firecrackers in the street, and going by Bucky’s sudden stony expression, he did too. Alpine pawed at his knee insistently. “Put them on,” you urged, “it’ll help.”

Bucky did so and he froze at the feeling of pressure at his head, but you soothed him by pulling him back down into your lap. He went without resistance and settled into hesitant calm when Alpine moved to sit on his hip with a quiet meow. 

“That’s it,” you cooed, using one hand to play with his hair and the other to fiddle with the remote so the audio of the movie would play through his headphones during the worst of the fireworks.

Day 10: Animal

The sudden pounding of multiple footsteps sounded down the corridor and out of sight, and Bucky panicked. He looked around with wide, calculating eyes but there was no sign of an exit, no way out. The bastards had fucking tricked him, he thought bitterly, resentfully. Teasing him with the possibility of freedom just to yank it from his grasp. 

“I’m not going back!” Bucky yelled to the empty walls, the sound of his voice echoed over the approaching horde of guards. 

A laugh, almost a cackle, was the only response he received before guards clad in black gear with batons rounded the corner. The voice spoke again, this time with barely restrained glee. “Be a good dog, and heel.” 

Bucky bristled and let go of the bars, stepping forward one pace to square his shoulders and bracing for a fight he had no hope of winning - but damn it all to hell if he wasn’t going to go swinging. 

Day 11: Unsung Hero

Survivor's guilt was a monster.

AND

“Hey, you,” smiling softly, you knelt back down between his legs and unzipped your purse, pulling free a packet of wipes. “I’m gonna clean you up a bit, all right?”

Bucky nodded minutely and remained still when you grabbed his right hand first, gently running the wipe over his fingers and knuckles, then his palm and wrist. 

“You’re a hero, baby,” you said quietly as you moved to his considerably bloodier left hand. “You saved that boy’s life.”

“I couldn’t leave him,” Bucky croaked. His throat worked as though he was swallowing glass and he winced.

“I know, and I’m so proud of you,” you reassured as you pulled free another wipe. “My hero.” Bucky’s lips twitched up into a smile briefly.

Day 12: I’ve Got You

It wasn’t often that Sarah Rogers, the epitome of strength and stubbornness, the queen of maintaining a mask of stoicity in the face of such dire circumstances, would look as scared as she did when she opened the door to let him in and out of the rain. 

Day 13: No Man’s Land

A soldier waded into war blind, his gun and bravery clutched tightly to his chest as he stepped out into No Man’s Land for those he loved behind him. 

Right now, those glass double doors that reflected the blue and red flashing lights - they felt an awful lot like stepping back into No Man’s Land. 

AND

Suddenly, Steve stirred slightly, it was only a squeeze of his hand and a wince. 

“Stevie?” Bucky asked quietly, moving his seat even closer so he could peer into Steve’s face. “Can you hear me?”

Another squeeze of his hand. 

“You’re okay, doll. They fixed you up,” Bucky reassured, bringing his left hand to cradle Steve’s jaw. “You’ll be right as rain, soon.”

Steve sighed softly and fell limp once again, the current of sleep evidently too much to fight against in his weakened state and Bucky couldn’t help but smile. Not only had Steve come out the other side of this and he would be okay, but Bucky had stayed by his side through one of his worst fears. 

Steve would be so proud of him. 

Day 14: No Way Out

There was no way out. 

Bucky could not save you this time. 

This was it. 

The realisation turned your whole body to ice. Your heart beat a tattoo against your ribs, fighting valiantly against the restraint of bone. 

Day 15: The Queen’s Fury

You swore to high heaven that the bastard’s who shot him would meet the barrel of a gun and hear the crack of gunfire. No one hurt your King - no one. 

“Stay with me,” you whispered against the flood of tears that threatened to escape your eyes. Bucky’s own were weeping, the trail of tears crossed his bloodied temples to land in his hair. 

Day 16: It Lay in Vain

Soldat knew that look, and it caused a wave of unease to flood his already weary nerves. Soldat was not meant - not allowed - to feel this way. He was a weapon, not a human. There was no room for emotions, so why were they suddenly so tangible after seeing Captain America knelt at his feet in a forced act of surrender?

The colours of blue, white, and red meant freedom - why wasn’t Captain America standing tall and proud in the face of almost certain death?

Why wasn’t Steve doing anything?

Day 17: Biding Time

There was no way in hell that they’d keep him pliant, cooperative - deadly - without the conditioning that was falling away faster than the shells they fed to a gatling gun. A single bullet was one shred of control gained by Bucky, one lost by Hydra. 

AND

What was left of Hydra bled and wept through the cracks in the floor and down into hell below, where they belonged, by Bucky’s hand. 

Day 18: Gentle Hands, Gentle Hearts

“You look like a lovestruck fool.” Steve deadpanned and Bucky laughed, placing the kit on the table so his hands were free. 

“So what if I am?” Bucky retorted. 

Day 19: Victorious

Like Battle Worn, I cannot pick from this entry. However, I could say this was one of my favourite lines:

Steve couldn’t bring himself to shed a tear of grief, however. Tony had proven he was the guy to make a sacrifice play after all, he wasn’t just a man in a suit of armour. He was a man of unshakable faith and courage that remained even when his heart stood still. 

Day 20: ‘Till the Sun Rises

The yellow and pink glow of sunrise was muted behind the curtains, but it still meant the same - that today was a new day, and that it would be okay. 

Day 21: Through a Soldier’s Eyes

The knife was jammed into Steve’s lung, between the delicate bones of his ribs that had withstood bouts of pneumonia and asthma that should have killed him. Steve only frowned, confusion evident in the pinch of his brow and slackening of his jaw. Both of them looked down to where Bucky’s hand was connected to Steve’s body. 

Blood was blooming faster than their eyes could track over the white and red of Steve’s armour, and over Bucky’s hand. 

“No,” Bucky breathed, his voice still muffled by the mask of the Asset. “No, no, no, I’m-”

“Buck?” Steve wheezed, his raspy voice louder than a gunshot and it forced Bucky to stop his tirade of guilt, shock, and confusion. “Bucky?”

Day 22: The Way Home

“Do you remember me, Buck?” Steve asked, somewhat scared of the answer but Bucky only stayed silent, his eyes roving over Steve’s face with dulled interest. “You do, don’t you?” A squeeze of his hand was the only answer he received - but it was more than enough. 

“You found your way home,” Steve said, furiously wiping his eyes at the sudden burn of tears. “They couldn’t keep you from me, could they?”

Another squeeze of his hand, and Steve smiled. Home, we’re both home. 

Day 23: The King’s Wrath

“Well, well, fuck me well,” Steve snorted beside him and Bucky broke out in a wolfish grin that didn’t meet his eyes; manic, blood thirsty, and furious. “What’s a son of a bitch like you doin’ out here, hm?”

AND

“He’s got a death wish.” Steve stated simply, his gloved hand appearing from beside Bucky to ruffle their guests' hair. “I’ll never turn down a chance to play with my food, you know that, right, Buck?”

“Oh, I know, Stevie,” Bucky assured, the predatory grin now making his eyes wrinkle. “But this one’s mine.” 

Bucky stood to his full height and squared his shoulders, a loud pop echoing when his bones cracked. The man at his feet watched defiantly, his glare only slightly masking his terror. “Be a good boy, and kiss my boots.”

AND

It wasn’t a scolding; it wasn’t a sneer like he was reproving a child - it was a reminder of just how much he cared for you. He did not want you to face the same demons he did. 

Day 24: Lucidity

The potholes in the road made the van jerk to and fro, but The Asset remained impossibly still, his gaze entirely honed on his hands. Both of which differed, but were coated in crimson; flesh turned red, titanium stained maroon. 

His hands - the fists of Hydra - were a weapon at their command, but they were interwoven with the body and soul of a man that never, ever, gave in. No matter what, no matter the cost. 

Day 25: Love Your Enemy

Bucky’s eyes went wide on impulse and he shuffled his feet, pushing his back further against the wall and away - away, away, away. 

Not one to be dissuaded or discouraged, Steve pushed on slowly. His small hand reached out towards Bucky and Bucky stared at it like it was the muzzle of a gun. Steve’s hand was free from the grit, dirt, and blood that stained Bucky’s own. 

For a brief, brief moment, Bucky wondered what it would be like to have Steve’s hands on him, his arms, his shoulders; anywhere that Steve would willingly touch. The thought made Bucky make a small sound of longing, a quiet whimper, and Steve only smiled warmly. 

AND

Slowly, Steve reached up, and Bucky watched one of his hands inch closer to his face, coming to rest on his stubbled cheek. The urge to flinch and duck away caused his breathing to become shallow, small gasps for air against the suffocating urge to protect himself. 

Steve wasn’t the enemy. Bucky’s own mind was. 

Day 26: Not Without You

Bucky tried to take another step, desperate to just get out of this damn hellscape, but his knees buckled and he fell to the floor with a loud thud. His gun clattered to the floor beside him and out of reach - just as well, that was the only way for this agony to end, he was sure of it. 

AND

“Hey,” his voice was so soft, so endearing, so Steve. “How’re you feeling?”

“Been better,” Bucky mumbled sleepily, grateful for the covertly placed hand at the side of his head. “Thank you, for gettin’ me outta there.”

Steve smiled softly and slowly brushed his thumb against Bucky’s stubble-dusted cheek. “Always, Buck,” he sighed and a glint of mischief glazed over his stormy blue eyes. “‘Till the end of the line, remember?”

Day 27: A Grave Price

Screams and shouts echoed in his ears and it disoriented him amongst the encroaching snowstorm, and for all Soldat knew, those voices belonged to people in the trees, their wailing cries a siren’s song for a dying man. 

AND

“Yest' tsena?” Soldat asked shakily, but he didn’t feel scared - the voice was there, and it would protect him. His hands, metal and flesh, fell limp in his lap, and his head lolled to the side. 

There was no strength left within him to fight the laxness of his muscles, nor the cold that nipped at his every last nerve. 

“Yes,” they answered. Soldat went to open his mouth to speak, but only managed a slow, deep exhale. With his body still and his eyes glazed over, the voice continued solemnly. “It’s one you have wanted to pay, for so, so long, Bucky.”

Day 28: Lullaby for a Soldier

Bucky huffed a laugh through his nose and began to speak, his breath hot on your palm but you didn’t move it, instead you stared at the side of his face with a raised brow when he finished. “What was that, baby?”

He turned his head to look at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Before you could react, a sudden wet pressure against your palm made you gasp and you ripped it away from his face. 

Bucky had licked your palm. 

AND

Bucky smirked and rested his head back down on your shoulder. “I said, ‘you get rid of that weight when you rest,” his hand moved from your waist and down to your thigh when he squeezed, “these over my shoulders.’”

“Oh, my God, Bucky,” you chortled, shifting back and forcing him to move his head to look up at you again. “You’re incorrigible.” A shit-eating grin graced his mouth and he surged forward, meeting yours in a fierce kiss that ended much too soon. 

AND

Bucky was fast asleep, the steady rise and fall of his shoulder and side provided a comfort that he was finally at rest. Carefully, you turned your head and placed a soft kiss to the crown of his head. 

“I love you, Bucky,” you whispered, beginning to feel the current of sleep pulling you under. “I love you, so fucking much.”

Day 29: Fatal Mistake

You shifted your gun slightly, and all hell broke loose. 

His titanium hand closed around the scientist’s throat and a popping noise silenced his cry for help before it could even leave his mouth. The remainder of the group of scientists scrambled away in fear, but you threw the knives you pulled from your thigh holster without a second to spare. All but one fell. 

“They will find you!” The scientist yelled. His reedy frame slid down the wall to the floor where he cowered from the approaching Winter Soldier. 

“No,” you said simply, adjusting the grip on your gun simply to watch the man squirm. “They won’t.”

There was no small sense of satisfaction at hearing the man scream in pain when the Winter Soldier pulled him up from the floor, dislocating his shoulder in the process. 

“Quiet.” He growled and there was a sudden pop. A loud thud echoed through the cell when the scientist’s corpse fell back down to the floor in a heap, his neck resting at an odd angle.

Day 30: May God have Mercy on you, Because I Won’t

The pearly gates of heaven surely were nowhere near as welcoming as seeing the steel doors fly open, revealing Steve in the doorway - a reincarnate of the devil himself. 

Bucky watched with watering eyes as Steve tilted his head slightly, observing the sight before him until his eyes locked on Bucky’s. He could have sworn Steve’s eyes turned black as he roved over Bucky’s still limp and beaten body. 

Steve- please-

Bucky’s captors stood stock still around him, pure terror written across their faces like a verse from the bible. They had not planned for Steve to show up - not like this. 

“Son,” Steve started, his gaze now directed towards the man with the radio. “I may not be a man of faith,” he sauntered forwards, his blackened stare pinning the man in place. “But I can only hope that God will take mercy on you, for taking what’s mine.”

Bucky watched Steve step into the man’s space, a snarl so vicious took over his features so he looked like a twisted devil - the real Mephistopheles warping through time and legend to stand right before his prey.

“Because I fucking won’t.”

Day 31: In the Arms of an Angel

The dimmed lights of the clubhouse did no favours for your worsening pallor, and Bucky felt helpless. He had fought with you over whether to go to hospital and you had adamantly refused. Even after Steve, Sam, Peter, and Natasha chimed in, you foolishly stood steadfast at the fact you were not stepping foot in a hospital over the ‘flu’.

Bucky knew the real reason, though. Hospitals were hard enough to stomach when he or one of the guys landed there, but for yourself? Hell would freeze over before you’d step foot in there willingly, for your own sake. 

AND

“Parker! You’re up front!” Bucky heard Steve yell as he ran to your car, ignorant of the break in hierarchy - you were fucking dying, to hell with it. “We’ll be right behind you!” Steve shouted, and his bike roared to life. 

AND

“I almost lost you.” 

His voice, always so strong and full of authority, wavered with unbearable fear.

With every last ounce of strength you had left, you moved your arm so you could rest your hand over his heart, the beat steady and true. 

“Love you,” you slurred, the current of sleep doing its damndest to pull you under. 

Bucky’s free arm moved so he could gently grab hold of your cannulated hand, and with practised ease, he intertwined your fingers as your eyes drooped shut - unable to fight against the current any longer.

“I love you more, sweetheart.”

[haellen-o]

10 for the unwriten/unpublished fic thing

so its kind of a weird situation because i post almost all of my writings in a private friend group (which you obviously know but others may not) so i guess its kinda cheating to share what i've posted there?

so i guess i'll share this snippet of a WIP that i'm writing currently

but since i think you're the only person who follows me (that actively uses tumblr) that's from our friendgroup server. i'll share this little bit too from a fic i posted there. just for the folks are aren't in the server

Ophelia once again sat on the sidelines of another noble's ballroom party. The entire fortemps family invited, but conveniently they forgot to send an invitation to the girlfriend of the only daughter born to the fortemps name. And to boot, its invitation only, no plus ones. If you aren’t on the list or have an invitation. You aren’t getting in The bigger shame was this was one of the few times ophelia had actually dressed for the occasion. A black vest with a white shirt underneath with a pale blue tie. And a matching coat with black fur She wanted to actually show ysayle she could dance, not just simple waltz moves. But more complex intricate couples dances too… She may have received some training as payment many years ago for helping out around the ala mhigan refugee camp But alas. At the door ysayle was rejected, and once more ysayle had to stop ophelia from flying into a rage. The fortemps brothers and edmont had tried to cheer her up after and even talk to the venue holder behind her back. But the answer was simply no. Ysayle wasn’t getting in no matter how hard they pleaded… Or warned And of course. A beautiful woman well dressed and alone, led to many single noblemen trying to court her. Even a few noblewomen tried it. But the response was always the same. She had a girlfriend. And wasn’t willing to dance with anyone but her (much to emmanellains dismay too) “May I have this dance?” A voice checked ophelia back into reality She looked up and saw a well dressed elezen, the perfect mental image of a nobleman. Silky fabrics, expensive clothing, and a snake's smile. She had just about had enough of it today “The only dance i’d have with you is the one where i’m running a blade through your heart”

actual unpublished thing below this since its got endwalker spoilers

Ophelia let go of her sword and walked forward a little “You can give up. We can leave here, and you can join me in my journey to find fulfillment in this life… We’re cut from the same cloth, we live for the violence… And I've found something outside of that violence, something to live for” She extended a hand. Gesturing to him “There’s a chance you can find that too. Even if it all circles back around to us fighting… I’d relish the opportunity to have someone who can stand up to my level. Even if it was for a friendly spar” She smiled. A genuine friendly smile “Would you be willing to find that fulfillment if given the chance?” “Or” She gestured back to her sword “Would you prefer to end this now. At the edge of creation, where wills are made manifest. A clash of our very desires” A smile curled on the edges of her lips “Not the will to live. Not the will to deliver justice… A primal desire to kill, for the sake of killing. Not for survival. Not for revenge. Or anger. Or sadness… For fun” The grin was hard to contain “Seeking the pleasures only people like us can seek, the pleasures of flesh only demented souls dream of. No warm body on a lonely night could amount to what this would give us… And it’ll be gone again after, forever unattainable to us. As the victor is drenched in the blood of the only person to ever give them life. The deep knowledge that this was the last time they could feel truly alive, and fulfilled…” A silence fell over her, like she already knew the answer zenos would give

[saintsenara]

An update…where the murderer will be REVEALED?! And a possible Room of Requirement scene? 😉 I am SO pumped.

For One Year in Every Ten I’ll go for: ⚡️ 🕸️ 🌋 🥸

And 😈—I’d love to hear about any WIP you’re feeling at the moment :) Your list last spring was incredible!

(PS Thanks to the Death Eater Hagrid dossier, I am now deep in WIP in which Ron and Luna (not a pairing, just true crime pals) accidentally figure it while bored during the lockdown, while reviewing cold cases from the war years. Truly a life-changing read).

One for the gorgeous Scylla and Charybdis to follow!

anon, i need desperately for you to reveal yourself and send me this ron & luna crime-fighting duo uncovering dark lord hagrid fic. it sounds like a masterpiece, canon rewritten, atyd in the mud, and i need it.

in fact, answering questions on one year in every ten from this work in progress ask game seems almost futile in the light of this life-changing information. i'll power through, though...

🌋 percentage which is done and ready to post?

it’s all done. i’m just lazy.

⚡️ which character is gonna get a rude awakening?

harry james potter is shortly to discover that sleeping with a wanted criminal doesn’t endear you to the government. which i feel hermione has already mentioned, but harry wasn’t listening then.

🕸 feeling you were stuck with how to write?

it’s not so much a feeling as a character, but i normally hate writing hermione - she and i would not be friends in real life! what of it! - and so deciding to make the trio (which dear old tom has forced his way into) a central part of the story was quite daunting. choosing to make hermione a lawyer was also not my brightest move, since the risk of her becoming insufferable as a result was high, but i think she and i have managed to form an uneasy alliance, helped - without a doubt - by the fact that ron is a chad.

🥸 tag yourself, which wip character are you?

tom. i’m also a hot slut who likes to overshare and who reacts poorly to the slightest provocation.

😈 next wip after this one?

i'm shocked to discover that i've actually made good progress on much of that list, which isn't like me... many pieces have already launched, many will shortly. it's giving hustle culture.

i think it’s important to always have at least one tomarrymort on the go, just so that the girlies (gender neutral) who don’t like the ship are always having to live in fear. because i can’t focus on single tasks, i have three tomarrymort wips in the pipeline. first up, we’re getting a little pornographic treat for the @tomarrybigbang, then we’re getting philosophical with two musings - one a one-shot, one a big multi-chapter stunner - on the nature of the soul and of love.

i also have a scarcrux-turns-the-child-harry-into-a-murderer one-shot knocking around somewhere, because of course i do.

[ajscico]

Wait wait wait, hold on--

YOU'RE the one who did Untamed Wild?????? 🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯

[grabby hands] Director's commentary on Four's & Wind's & Hyrule's chapters, plz? :3

(Promptly blue screens because that’s my first fic, the one I joined AO3 to publish and slightly insecure about it.) Ok, welp, I still get kudos for it, sure. Director’s cut…

Wind—most of my location knowledge in the fic comes from either a BOTW interactive map, or begging @moraynisdeath to let me run around locations on that progress because she was further, had better armor, and wasn’t completely terrified of any of the big monsters. (I’m a bit of a wimp when it comes to fighting things that can crush me in one hit). It was surprising to me, first, that the desert was gray rock mountains in that portion. I was expecting the red rock formations like in the Yiga area, or by the 8 heroines… or the desert in my state. Two, there was nothing out there but giant skeletons and ruins and sandstorms… and the Molduga. I had to mentally chart a course the Sailor would have tried to walk, then try to balance it with knowing just enough of the limits of human endurance to not kill him. The real fun part was dumping him into Time and Warriors’s laps and going “so, he’s got heat stroke, how are you two gonna cope?” then Wild jumping on the idea of brining ice in to cool Wind off tied nicely into the next hero’s location and I cackled at my own brilliance.

Four—I knew when I was picking my “worst place in Wild’s Hyrule to stick him” that it would be up by the Spring of Wisdom. Partly because I’d already decided Twilight would be in the Tabantha tundra and the Gerudo highlands are cold and hazardous in their own ways but the area by the Spring of Wisdom is just as cold as Tabantha and across the map. Heat to cold is a mean mixture and I was partially just bullying Wild with that change. He’s running around in the Vai set because Wind is wearing half the Voe one … and at some point will realize he’s freezing (you know, when the panic in his head slows enough for him to realize he’s losing hearts). Then, fun fact, the slate only tracks distance in straight lines. It doesn’t give you up or down and if you’re following the chirp , you’re going to have to Skyrim the mountain because the beeping will fade or go away completely unless you’re on a direct, straight-line course. And I again begged Moraynisdeath to let me run around the area which inspired Wild’s breakneck run (I fell down the first switchback because I forgot to deploy the paraglider).

I wanted to do bits from Four’s POV like I had pretty much everyone else. I wanted to have him camp out in the hollow by the shrine and then realize he wasn’t going to get found there and argue with himself about how exactly to strike out for civilization only to end up buried in the snow because he has less-than-adequate cold protection. But… I’d only read the minish cap manga. I hadn’t read Four Swords yet and I hadn’t really gotten the hang of the Colors nor had decided the best way to write them (this was before they split in LU so interpretation was and still is varied). So I chickened out of writing him and had him already out cold in the snow for his chapter.

Hyrule—poor guy. He’s competent and could hold his own and really make life difficult for Wild if he got out and was wandering. So he ended up concussed and broken within his first minute being there. I channeled the screaming terror my brothers and I (mostly me) experienced the first time we found the place. My brother who was playing just glided through while the other two of us screamed about having 6 beams all trained on Link at once. I hadn’t discovered the No-clip website so used videos, art, and again borrowing moraynisdeath’s save file to see what the place looked like. She was also willing to sacrifice a fairy to the cause in seeing if the guardians just woke up for Link or if they attacked anything that moved. The answer seemed to be just Link-shaped organisms so… fairy form. I then had to do a bunch of guessing and research about Hyrule’s spells. Numbers and I don’t get along. Knowing the Life spell cost ‘x’ magic points while Fairy cost ‘y’ was great but I wasn’t sure how much that took out of a total. Also, not entirely sure if magic was something that recharged after a rest or if you needed magic potion to recharge at all. That and knowing Fairy only lasted the length of one room in a side scroller game and how would that translate to 3d. So we went with “fairy will last half the length of the back chamber and he’ll have to use his potion to get to the divider point.” And then “ok, mana recharges with time, he’ll have to wait and go slow and duck and cover to avoid guardians… because I have 5 other heroes that get rescued first.”

Also had to do some ‘research’ as to how much warning there is to a blood moon. If you can’t see the moon… when do you start seeing Malice in the air? Etc. For some reason, I enjoy doing that research because it makes a fic better in my head?

One day I will have the will and ability to rewrite the Sky chapter. I wanted more. I wanted that panic of “hunted and can’t rest” but not sure how to do it with the guy that literally took down a god…one day.

[the-travelling-witch]

Author´s insights

I didn’t mean to write a separate post for my thoughts alone but considering the new information we received on the Harbingers, I thought it would help to clear up my approach to this fic without taking up too much space in the a/n.

First and foremost, I’d like to reiterate that I planned this entire thing at least a month before the news dropped, so any characterisations and plot points regarding the newly revealed characters are my headcanons and thoughts. Also, plot points from the game are used to further the fic and I by no means am implying or saying this is what happened/ will happen in the actual story/ lore.

Actually, I’m writing this simply to exercise all the knowledge, research and thoughts I’m having ♡)

Reader Character 

Harbinger!reader goes by the Codename of Columbina who was now revealed to be the last missing harbinger on our list. But the reader character is not based on the Harbinger released by Hoyoverse on the 11th July 2022. As you can see below, I already noted Columbina as the name I wanted to use back in late May/ early June, therefore the reader will be very different from the character we’ll see in the game.

Why did I choose Columbina?

My choice was based on what I know about the commedia dell’ arte, the play the Fatui lore is based on. The name Columbina [or “Colombina”/ “Columbine”] means “little dove” and in the picture of all the symbols of the Harbingers, there is also the symbol of the crying dove; that’s how I made the connection. Also, Columbina is one of the important zanni characters of the play, so including her would make sense. (On that note: my working theory is that the characters inspired by the zanni will be playable while the characters inspired by the vecchi will not be playable; that would mean no Signora, Dottore, Capitano or Pantalone)

At first, I considered making the reader one of the innamorati, Isabella, but I think it’s much more plausible for the siblings to be the star-crossed lovers; in the play the vecchi work to keep the two apart while the zanni work to unite them (for their own goals and benefits; it also works to support my theory on the playable characters)

Side note: I’ve decided on Pantalone being visionless after reading the lore of the artifact set “Pale Flame”, more specifically the timepiece “Moment of Cessation” where it’s stated that “he was not one of the favoured, and could only pursue worldly power”, read: he wasn’t granted a vision but uses his money as a power. In the commedia dell’ arte, Pantalone uses his wealth and status to influence the play as well.

Vision/ Delusion

I can’t for the life of me decide if Visions and Delusions are separate from each other or if they are two sides of the same coin so to say. The only character we’ve seen with both is Childe and he confuses me even more. In his delusion unleashed form, his hydro vision turns purple and sports a fatui logo, which would point towards the latter theory. In his foul legacy form, however, he has a blue vision like gem on his right shoulder and a purple delusion like thing on his stomach…ahhh, this makes me want to rip my hair out!!! I will SCREAM!!! (I’m writing this before a final edit exists, so did I change it again?)

I wanted to give the reader an electro vision first, for pure self-insert purposes to be quite honest. My favourite elements are cryo and electro after all, so I was really tempted to just have it be electro.

But I decided to go with an anemo vision in the end anyway. Obviously, the dove is a clear anemo indicator and anemo always brings a notion of freedom and choice which would work as good symbolism; the theme of free will vs the will of the Tsaritsa, breaking out of a cage, etc.

The vision isn’t that important though, it’s barely mentioned anyway. The cryo delusion holds more symbolism for the story though, it’s supposed to symbolise how the work for the Fatui was meant to make the reader heartless/ emotionless and the reader is then using this power to fight for her love/ family.

Miscellaneous 

The mask the reader is wearing is a “Colombina mask” which covers the upper half of the face, leaving the cheeks and mouth bare. I think it goes without saying why I chose that one… (there are obviously much more extravagant ones than the example below, so I’ll leave the actual design about to your imagination <3)

I headcanon Columbina to be the sort of „peacekeeper“ among the Harbingers; again, the dove symbolism

The ice arrow the reader fires in the final battle is heavily inspired by this manga panel of Sukuna from Jujutsu Kaisen jshsh (he’s so cool <33)

What did I change after the Harbinger news dropped?

Last but not least, how much of this is influenced by the new trailer? Not much actually, I kept everything as I’ve planned and written it before. The only detail I added was the black fur on the grey coats, they were just grey coats before that jshshs

But I wanted to keep the story as is and not let myself be influenced by the new trailer, especially considering that we still don´t have a lot of actual information on the Harbingers :)

Okay, I think that’s it; if there’s anything I forgot or if there’s anything you’re still curious about, don’t hesitate to ask me and I’ll add it later; I’d love to talk about my writing progress with you ♡

[yubsie]

I actually had a lot of fun with the various holiday traditions in We Need a Little... so I’m going to take a moment to babble about where various things come from. A big thing I wanted to do with this one was write a Star Wars holiday fic rather than a Christmas fic.

Problem: Star Wars worldbuilding is a bit uneven and one of the things it tends to lack if cultural details. So while I dug into some DEEP lore, I also made a lot of stuff up.

Life Day: Okay, we all know about this one. It’s canon, it’s the go to holiday for winter holiday fics, but given the timeframe and the fact that it’s a Wookiee holiday, it wasn’t going to play a big role. Orga root grows on the surface of Kashyyyk, is quite perilous to harvest and is traditionally served on LIfe Day.

Solstice Tide: This was a lucky find! My husband had already suggested that the Coruscant holiday should be a commercial nightmare that Kanan hated it. Then I found out that the LIfe Day Treasury had a story set during the High Republic era where the Jedi would invite people into the Temple to share in abundance and it being a corrupted Jedi holiday? Perfect.

Sutuu pouches: Also canon! My husband patiently tromped through the book store with me looking for the LIfe Day Treasury when I realized online one of the illustrations was a Twi’lek and it might have something useful for me! The tradition they’re tied to is from Aaloth and it involves bonfires that burned longer than they should have when fighting off the Sith. So they assemble these little tinder pouches. The story in the book involved a rebel finding magnesium rich moss and throwing it at a stormtrooper at a key moment.

Sinya ek Sinya: The holiday didn’t have a name but hey I found a dictionary of Twi’leki terms! The thing about conlangs largely built from RPG supplements is they lack key grammatical features. LIke conjunctions. Though I did eventually find a word for “of”. I wanted to name the holiday Night of NIghts but there was no word for night so it translates to Dark of Dark. Eleni making sure they marked this holiday was a big part of the genesis of the entire rest of the story, and the sutuu pouches gave me a nice specific thing for her to do.

Ryshcate: This is mostly a throwaway reference because they didn’t have the ingredients, but it’s a traditional cake used to mark special occasions (birthdays, really missing Corellia, apologizing to your fellow Corellian). It is, of course, a boozy dessert. This originates from Legends but was canonized by... a cookbook, sure.

Catabar bread: Catabar is one of the few canonical cooking spices that have been established in the GFFA, and it fit the niche of sweet baking spice.

Unnamed Mandalorian Holiday: Does it actually involve fireworks, or does Sabine just want to blow something up and no one else knows enough about Mandalorian culture to argue? The galaxy may never know.

Tanaab Festival of Lights: Oh, did I ever make this one up. More specifically, I made this up for a holiday fic about Wes Janson that I wrote in high school. It is possible the fic is still findable on TF.N but I will not be doing so because I am sure I’d find it painful to read something I wrote that long ago. I did remember the candle tradition though, and thought it fit this story really well. Oddly, this is probably the most directly Christmas inspired custom in the entire story. Or rather, it was inspired by Advent with the specific coloured candles symbolizing specific things.

Night of Frozen Sand: My husband named this one. No, I have no idea what the significance of the light up bantha horns

Twenty-Eight Glimmers: This one was [Raltiir Holiday] for the first draft. I wanted to build an actual custom around ugly sweaters after reading a hilarious Twitter thread about “Your Christian students will be celebrating Yom Christmas soon” that mentioned them and I liked the idea of an ugly sweater explicitly bringing good luck. A custom about luck seemed like a good fit for Hobbie (who still managed to get injured in the fluffy holiday fic, bless him). So then I started researching Raltiir to find something I could build a holiday around. ANd it turns out that most of what we know about Raltiir involves... banking. But! It has 28 moons and while I have several questions about how big these moons are if a terrestrial planet only slightly larger than Earth has that many, it seemed obvious that the winter light based holiday had to incorporate them. You don’t just go around having TWENTY-EIGHT MOONS in your sky and not develop customs about them. (ALso the tides on Raltiir must be a freaking nightmare to predict)

Long Night: And then fairly late in the process I realized I had somehow overlooked Lothal even though that’s the most obvious holiday for the Ghost crew to mark. I’d already did a couple variations on lighting fires, so I went more sound based for driving away the night. Which had the bonus of Kanan musing about just always putting bells on the baby (a thing blind parents do in fact do!)

Tinsel: This does not tie to a specific planet, I just wanted to put tinsel on Chopper.

[calswildflcwer]

Can I Kiss You?

Pairing : Scott McCall x fem!oc.

Warnings : Foul language, mentions of death, character death, no comfort end, angst then fluff then no comfort.

Plot : Bluebell has made a list of rules that she lives by, she decides to break one of those rules and kisses the alpha, Scott McCall. However, things soon take a deathly turn.

Prompt : Can I kiss you? Or is that against the rules?” “Fuck the rules.”

Pronouns used : he/him for Scott, she/her for Bluebell.

Note : All oc’s belong to me, please do not copy or steal any of my oc’s details. Thanks.

Info : Info about Bluebell here! Also, Scott will probably be ooc but it’s a fic so that much is obvious I guess.

Word count : 1.9k words.

OC taglist : @fairchildflag - You’ve already read this on Insta lmao but I wanted to post it here too 💖

OC Masterlist here!

Bluebell paced back and forth in her bedroom, going through the plan over and over in her head. What would she tell Scott? What would she even say?

“Scott, I’m so sorry I lied to you all this time. My name is actually Brooklyn Harris, I-I’m sure you recognise it-” she began to recite, quickly cutting herself off.

“Pfft! Of course he’ll recognise that name, you’ve tried killing him before.” Bluebell muttered to herself in the mirror, gripping the dressing table in front of her; her claws digging in and making scratch marks in the white painted oak. She took a deep breath, her claws slowly retracting back into her normal nails as she let out a deep sigh, grabbing a pen and piece of paper, deciding the best way to explain everything would be to write it down.

Dear Scott- “No, that’s wrong. It’s not a letter, Bluebell.” She groaned to herself, scribbling out what she had written.

She took a deep breath, slowly letting her hand glide across the paper; letting her words flow effortlessly. It didn’t take long for her to finish her note.

If you’re reading this, I’m probably either dead or I’ve just ran away… again.

Things weren’t supposed to end like this. You guys weren’t supposed to find out like this. I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my past, one of them was becoming the biggest predator of the supernatural world, I was never meant to become a killer but with eyes as blue as mine- everybody already assumed the worst before even realising I wasn’t a werewolf, I’m a Werecoyote. I’m sure, by now, that Gerard has told you all the truth about me, a name I’m sure you’ll all recognise. My name is Brooklyn Harris, when I was ten, I was abandoned by my pack- made to survive this awful world alone. That’s when the hunters came. That’s when I became a killer, it started with just one of Gerard’s men, I didn’t care enough to remember his name. All I knew was that I had to survive, and with over ten guns pointed in my direction, there was no other option. Once I realised what I’d done, how dangerous I was, I ran… I ran and I didn’t stop, not for Derek, not for Argent’s men, not for Chris, and not even for you, Scott McCall. My choices were either fight or flight, I’d always been raised to claw my way out of any situation, so whenever I came across somebody I knew would try to stop me, somebody I didn’t trust, I would choose the latter and would fight and claw and scream and growl, I didn’t care what the outcome was, all I knew was that I needed to survive. This lifestyle earned me the title ‘the most dangerous of them all’, a title frequently used by Gerard Argent. I’m a predator, a dangerous and lethal predator who has so much blood on her hands. I thought I’d left that life behind, but it seems that no matter what I did or how much I changed my name or face- somebody out there would still recognise me. So this is my farewell, this is my goodbye, my departure note. I have to leave and I don’t think I’ll ever return. I broke rule number one; don’t fall in love with the alpha. Goodbye my love, my heart and my soul, Scott McCall,

Forever yours,

Brooklyn “Bluebell” Harris.

Bluebell left the note on her dresser before grabbing the duffel bag she had packed beforehand, she stopped at the front door; sparing one final glance over her shoulder before letting the safety door slam and sprinting away from the porch.

She stopped at the preserve, stepping over the chain and the do not enter sign. She placed a hand on the nearest tree to steady herself before glancing over her shoulder to make sure she wasn’t followed- she knew that Scott and the pack would be at her house by now.

Scott ran in through the door of his girlfriend’s home, “BLUEBELL!!” He called out. Stiles, Derek, Lydia, Malia and Chris were all behind him, “BLUE!!” He called out again, glancing over his shoulder with a wide eyed fearful look which Stiles quickly caught on to. “If she isn’t here, if we don’t find her- if Gerard finds her before us…” Scott began, worry emanating from his voice.

“She’ll be dead before she hits the ground.” Chris put in, letting a sigh leave his mouth.

Stiles placed a hand on Scott’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze, “Hey, we’ll find her, okay?” He reassured his best friend.

Scott sent an appreciative smile his way before turning towards the stairs, he sprinted up; Stiles, Derek and Chris were on his heel as Lydia and Malia searched downstairs. They searched around for a while before Stiles stood up straight, “Scott, Scott I got something.” He said, holding up the note.

Scott was by his side in seconds as he grabbed the note from Stiles’ hands, his eyes scanned back and forth, word after word. He let out a soft sigh, dropping the note to the floor, “Scott, what’s wrong?” Chris asked, worry evident in his voice.

“She’s gone. She’s run away.” Scott mumbled, his voice was low and tears were slowly rolling down his cheeks.

Stiles placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze as Derek spoke up, “Then we need to find her before Gerard does.” He said, throwing one of her scarfs towards Scott. “Track her scent.” He told him. Scott nodded, scrunching the scarf in his fists and pressing the garment to his nose, taking in her scent.

The footsteps became louder and louder behind her. The red lasers were shining through the trees, closer and closer to where Bluebell was. She quickly slinked behind a large oak tree, pressing her back against the wood as her chest heaved up and down repeatedly, she placed a hand over her mouth as she heard the voices on the other side of the tree becoming louder, “She definitely went this way, boys. She can’t run for long.” It was the voice that could make milk curdle, the voice that could bring even the toughest man to his knees, the voice that made her blood boil and skin crawl, the voice that belonged to Gerard Argent.

She heard the footsteps disperse, slowly getting further and further away. She let out a sigh of relief she didn’t even realise she was holding, and closed her eyes slightly as her breathing slowly went back to its normal pace.

Bluebell pushed herself away from the tree and began walking the opposite way, she placed her hands in the pockets of her jeans as she continued to walk. She spared a glance over her shoulder, however, this made her bump into someone. Her eyes widened before she turned her head, fear evident in her eyes as she stared at the intruder. “S-Scott?” She asked, “H-how did you find me?” She questioned.

“I tracked your scent.” He responded, placing his hands on her shoulders. “Look, Bluebell- or Brooklyn, whatever name you go by…” He mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck, “I don’t care about what you’ve done in the past. I don’t care that you’ve tried to kill me more than once, I don’t care about your past mistakes. I fell in love with the shy girl who always tried to stay at the back of the class, unnoticed, with a hoodie on even in one hundred degree weather. I fell in love with Bluebell Harris, I fell in love with the werecoyote, I fell in love with the blue glowing eyes, I fell in love with you, Bluebell. Your past, your mistakes, your old life- all of that, isn’t who you are. You? The real you? It isn’t the monster who did the horrible stuff, it’s the girl who was mortified by the horrible stuff she did. You are loved, you’re loved by me, you’re like a daughter to Chris, you’ve become good friends with Derek, you’re best friends with Lydia and Malia and Serenity would be so lost without you.” He told her, sitting her on a nearby log.

“I don’t know, Scott.” She sighed, placing her head in her hands. “No matter how far I run, no matter how much I change about myself, somebody will always recognise me and some people will never forgive the things I’ve done.”

“Don’t change anything about yourself, you’re perfect as you are.” He told her, resting his forehead against the side of her head, planting a soft kiss to the top of her ear.

She tilted her head, slowly turning it and staring at the alpha, “Didn’t you read rule number one in that note?” She asked, biting her lip slightly as she stared into his eyes.

“I did.” He grinned, licking his lips slightly as his eyes flickered between her eyes and her lips. “Exactly how many rules did you make?” He questioned.

“Ten.” She whispered softly, staring into his eyes.

“That’s a lot of rules, Blue.” He whispered back.

“They’re the rules I try to live by.” She whispered, her own eyes flickering back and forth between his eyes and lips. She lifted her hand, pressing it against his cheek, “But then you came around and you just…” She sighed slightly with a soft smile shining on her features, “You just changed my whole world.” She chuckled softly.

He watched her, a smile emanating from his own features as he leaned forward, “Can I kiss you? Or is that against the rules?” He asked, padding his thumb across her cheek.

She stared up at him through her lashes, a smile quickly spread across her features as her pupils were blown wide; biting her lips, the next words flowed freely, “Fuck the rules!” She whispered, letting him lean down and crash his lips against hers.

She kissed back just as passionately, her arms wrapping around him as her fingers became entangled in his hair whilst his hands gripped her waist.

That was until a shadow came over the pair of them, “Well well well, isn’t this sweet?” There it was again, that milk curdling voice.

The pair pulled away, Bluebell’s protective instinct slowly kicking in as she quickly rose to her feet and stood in front of her boyfriend, “Oh, you foolish child, I never wanted Scott. We only ever wanted you, Brooklyn.” He smirked, grabbing her roughly.

Her hands were bound above her as she was dangled from a tree. She stared at Scott, a fearful and apologetic look in her eyes as he was held back by a few of Gerard’s men. Her eyes widened as she watched Gerard pull out a long, steel sword. She closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable impact that she knew was bound to come.

Scott watched in horror, trying to fight against the men who were holding him back but there were too many of them, “Gerard, no! Please!” Scott pleaded as Gerard lifted the sword; the tip glinted in the sunlight that was shining through the trees.

Gerard wore an evil grin as he swung the sword as hard as he could, cutting the young girl in half at the waist. Her body fell limp immediately as Scott fell to his knees, letting out an agonising and painful scream which soon turned into a roar. Tears rolled down his cheeks as Gerard signalled for his men to leave, Scott stared at the hanging body of his girlfriend. His tears quickly becoming a waterfall as he knelt on the ground and screamed out.

The others skidded to a halt behind him, Stiles placed a hand on Scott’s shoulder, trying to hold back his own tears as he stared at the scene in front of him, Scott’s painful screams echoed through the forest. They were too late. Far too late.

She was gone.

Henloooo! Welcome back to another oc fic! 🤪 The og Teen Wolf characters are probably very much poc but I mean, it’s a Fic so that’s bound to happen, please do lemme know what y’all think tho angels! 😘 Stay hydrated, make sure you’ve eaten today, remember you’re loved more than you’ll ever know and stay safe. Mwaaaah! 💖