#f: post iron man 3

[todayisafridaynight]

DID YOU MISS THE EXAM... Either way I can believe in that superstition for a sec I'm so sorry 😭😭😭

NONO I TOOK IT. BARELY. I BARELY TOOK IT. I JUST THOUGHT CLASS WAS GOING TO BE NORMAL BUT NOPE <3<3<3

[eggluverz]

Dan Feng's disciple! Reader x Dan Heng IL Synopsis Idea: She tried to stop them from taking him away from her, she really did. But Jingliu and Jing Yuan were quick to stop her. She spent so many nights alone... Until she saw him. The man she loved and would give up her life for. She's not letting him slip away from her this time. Thank you~~❤️

AFTER ALL THIS TIME

PAIRING. dan feng x f!reader; dan heng x f!reader

WORD COUNT. 3,741

SUMMARY. you were the great imbibitor lunae's disciple. he trusted you with his life and you with his. but when the time came, you weren't able to save him. what happens when you run into his reincarnation years down the line?

SOF'S NOTE. i had so much fun writing this!! i wrote it 2 days ago now but i just haven't had the time to post it t-t but i'm finally moved into my new place and managed to squeeze this post in <3 i rly rly enjoyed writing this so i hope y'all enjoy reading!! and special ty to the anon who requested this!! ^-^

The art of cloudhymn magic was difficult to master. Even as a high elder yourself, there were intricacies you could not figure out on your own. But you trained daily, practiced in seclusion, and read all the books passed down from the most renowned masters. 

Each day, your knowledge grew. Your natural talents aided you in perfecting your own personalized form of cloudhymn magic.

Still, Dan Feng noticed flaws in your execution. Movements that should be more precise, patterns that should flow more intricately. You noticed him silently watching you on the vast training grounds. He wasn’t much older than you, yet his magic was already intricately refined— The makings of a leader to the Vidyadharas.

He saw great power within you, he told you in passing as he took you under his wing. There was much you could gain from him, he promised. 

Years went by as you studied under Dan Feng. He has many supporters and people who looked up to him, but he only allowed you as his disciple. You were the only one who could rightfully address him as master. 

As he grew in his status as a member of the High Cloud Quintet and later the Imbibitor Lunae, you too grew in your mastery of cloudhymn magic. You were able to learn Dan Feng’s signature combat skill of deflecting iron, making arrows of most enemies fall flat at your feet. But your skill shined in the illusions you were able to create. Not even the Imbibitor Lunae was as skilled in that art as you. 

Your power grew and as such, Dan Feng recognized you as more of an equal than a disciple. Out of respect for all the teachings he imparted on you, you still called him master. There was no way you would reach your level of strength in this short amount of time without someone like him fostering your talents.

Along the way, you found yourself viewing him as more than your master. When he began treating you as someone who matched his power rather than someone with much to learn, you were able to feel confident in all your abilities.

One late night, Dan Feng took you to his sacred training grounds for a sparring session. He had just returned from a stressful battle and while the casualties were low, they were more than he felt comfortable with. 

“If anything happens to me, at least I will know the Vidyadhara will be in good hands,” Dan Feng commended as you blocked the tip of his spear from grazing the base of your neck. 

You quickly shifted your gears from defending to attacking, knowing if you let Dan Feng get too many attacks in, he would be almost unstoppable. Spinning your spear in your hands, you imbued the weapon with water and launched it directly at your master’s chest. 

A normal man would have fallen dead before even realizing you attacked him, but not the Imbibitor Lunae. He sidestepped, the scene appearing like a mirage due to his speed. 

“Nothing is going to happen to you, master,” you scoffed. “You’re the strongest Vidyadhara alive. Not even I could defeat you in battle.”

He hummed, tapping his spear to the back of your neck, signaling you lost this spar. “Battle is not the only way someone can fall.”

Wiping a bead of sweat off your forehead, you sighed, sauntering away from him and back inside his living quarters. “Continuously speaking of your self-proclaimed inevitable downfall is unbecoming of you, master. What would the people think of a disciple who follows someone without faith in his own ability to live?” 

Dan Feng chuckled softly. “A pitiful disciple, is what outsiders would say.” You nodded and he stopped you in your tracks, running his index finger against your jaw. His fingernail dug into the bottom of your chin to lift your head until your burning gaze met his sharp one. “But we never cared much about what outsiders think, did we?” 

You placed your palm against his chest, feeling the detailed fabric of his garments. They were thick yet light, a sign of great craftsmanship that only the highest of elders could afford. You allowed your hands to roam along his body before Dan Feng grabbed your wrist, his long fingers wrapping easily around its circumference. 

He smirked. “Wait until we’re indoors, my beloved.” 

“Yes, master,” you complied with a roll of your eyes before releasing the front of his outwear. You held complete respect for the Imbibitor Lunae, and you revered him as such. But those moments when it was just you and Dan Feng—just you and your partner—you weren’t one to shy away from meeting his biting remarks. 

This night, like many, led to moments of passion on the silken sheets draped over Dan Feng’s mattress. It was a mixture of love, respect, and the intense craving for more. 

Your master, the Imbibitor Lunae, a member of the High Cloud Quintet— Dan Feng was many things. But most importantly, he was yours. 

Until he wasn’t. 

No good thing was meant to last, Dan Feng once said during an endless night of reflection as he laid in bed beside you. Friendships, relationships, entire civilizations, built to be destroyed from the start. 

No good thing was meant to last. But he would fight his damned hardest to ensure they did. 

And for once, his hardest wasn’t enough. 

It was the middle of the night when your living quarters were barged into. You woke with a start and noticed Dan Feng quickly wrapping your robes around your naked body. 

The noises weren’t at the bedroom yet; you heard the thuds from outside and you immediately called for your strongest weapon. Noticing even the slightest of your movements, Dan Feng softly placed his hand on top of yours. Almost imperceptibly, he shook his head. 

Your eyes widened, wanting to ask what he could’ve possibly been thinking. There was a large group of men outside with hostile intent, did he not want to protect himself from an attack? 

“I am going to see what they need,” he said calmly, pulling you into his arms and leaving a kiss on your forehead. “Please, stay here for me.”

A few members of the High Cloud Quintet—Dan Feng’s closest friends that easily became yours as well—were staying at the guest chambers at the Imbibitor Lunae’s invitation. At the commotion outside, Jingliu came in with a groggy look on her face, tired from being woken up, but not an ounce of surprise in her. 

Dan Feng nodded to her and a silent Jing Yuan that filed in behind her. “Jingliu, Jing Yuan… Make sure she stays out of harm’s way.”

“Of course,” promised Jing Yuan, a soft smile painting his lips despite the sad look in his eyes. 

As he spoke, the doors to the bedroom burst open, a trio of Vidyadhara Preceptors breaking down the defenses you and Dan Feng had set. Your spear was in your hand in an instant and you tightened the knot on your robe with your other hand. 

Dan Feng stood straight in high alert, though his expression remained as one of nonchalance and arrogance. “Can I help you?”

Without a single moment spared for niceties, the Cloud Knights charged in to grab the Imbibitor Lunae. The Preceptors sent chains of rope instead of metal to wrap around Dan Feng. Your eyes blazed as you immediately called upon your cloudhymn magic. Water danced around your spear in sharp droplets, and you pointed it directly at the Head Preceptor. 

He narrowed his eyes in your direction. “Stand down, or you will face the same punishment.” 

“That’s only if you can beat us,” you laughed with disdain. Despite the big group, you were certain you and Den Feng had the ability to hold them off together. 

“Don’t,” Jingliu called out, gently placing her hand on your shoulder. “We can’t help him anymore, Y/N. Not after what he did. Don’t get hurt in the crossfire.” 

You knew what Dan Feng had done. For Yingxing. And you both knew the crime he would have to commit to help his best friend, but you never imagined the punishment would be so severe. A crowd of Cloud Knights and even a group of the Vidyadhara Preceptors here, together, all to subdue the Imbibitor Lunae. 

But it didn’t matter the crimes he committed or the consequences he may have incited through his actions. None of it mattered because he was your Dan Feng. Your master and your lover who you would protect with your entire life. 

Unfortunately, Dan Feng seemed to know that, having gotten Jingliu and Jing Yuan here to hold you back.

Before you could move, Jing Yuan held your arm back and prevented you from using your spear. Your eyes widened in shock. 

“Jing Yuan…?”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. It’s too late for Dan Feng, but not for you.”

The Cloud Guards briefly turned their attention towards you and the members of the High Cloud Quintet. Their swords raised as they noticed the fire in your eyes. 

Dan Feng snarled when he saw their focus on you. “If you hurt her, you will all pay,” he warned, his voice a low growl that would’ve made an ordinary man quiver. He began to move his arms in a way that could only be described as the start of a cloudhymn spell and in an instant, all eyes were on him. The ropes tightened, restricting his movement in a way that caused immense pain. 

“I love you,” were Dan Feng’s last words as he was forced out of his own estate. “Take care of yourself, my beloved.”

“Why do you speak as if you’re going to be gone?” you cried, refusing to believe someone as strong as your master could be subdued even by a group as large as this. “I’ll come get you—!”

You felt the sharp point of a sword on your neck as you summoned your spear. The nick was only a warning, but it was enough to draw blood. Your eyes widened and you stilled under the mercy of Jingliu’s weapon. 

“I’m sorry,” she said. “You cannot.”

Feeling helpless and pathetic, all you could do was fight to not lose consciousness as Jingliu swiftly knocked you out. 

Your eyes drifted open and shut, your hand that was wrapped around your spear instantly loosened and the weapon that contained so much power fell at your side like a dull needle. 

The next time you woke, you were at your own residence. You had left this place to have a sanctuary with Dan Feng. Your sanctuary that was invaded, attacked, and taken from you. 

You went back on forth between two states of mind. One was complete and utter numbness at the loss you suffered. The other was uncontrollable pain and sadness. 

You spent your days and nights crying, refusing to see a single soul. You turned your meals away even when your loved ones begged you to take a bite. There was a hole in your heart at the thought of your master’s punishment. 

In your eyes, Dan Feng’s own best friends betrayed him, betrayed you. And after that night, you knew you would never want to be in contact with any of them again. 

To save a life, to save a friend who no longer regarded Dan Feng in the same light… You never could have imagined the punishment would be forced reincarnation. 

Uncontrollable sobs racked through your body, throat hoarse from the amount of crying you’ve done for weeks straight. It wasn’t only forced reincarnation, but also torture and imprisonment you knew he was facing. 

You had the strongest Vidyadhara alive as a master, yet you failed to learn enough to save him. When it mattered most, you couldn’t help.

Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months, and months turned to years. Those thoughts ate you alive before you were able to finally continue on with your life. 

You were no longer a Xianzhou resident. You refused the help the Vidyadhara with any advances in medicine and combat, keeping any profound knowledge of cloudhymn magic that Dan Feng shared only with you to yourself. The Preceptors couldn’t be trusted with anymore power. They had made themselves and enemy to you. As did the Cloud Knights, and inadvertently, the Cloud Knight General himself. 

Still, you tried not to let the hatred consume you. Vengeance would only breed insanity. Your mind would be consumed with sorrow and pain and you would never be able to heal. 

Dan Feng wouldn’t want that. 

You had to continue to live, for the both of you. 

Using your privilege as a Vidyadhara, you were able to travel around to different planets with relative ease. There were so many things to experience, such beautiful things to see—when you weren’t tangled in constant politics and battles. Your only wish was that Dan Feng was here to explore the universe with you. 

There were places where he didn’t need to have the pressure of the world on his shoulders. He wouldn’t be Imbibitor Lunae. He wouldn’t be a member of the famous High Cloud Quintet. Instead, he would just be Dan Feng, and you would get to explore the world as such. 

You wondered if his transition into the modern world would have been as smooth as yours. As you reminisced about your past, a nostalgic smile formed on your face. 

As you walked around this new city, you stared up at the flurries of pink and purple in the sky. The scenery was amazing here. With vast bodies of water and a bustling area of commerce and entertainment on the shorelines, you couldn’t help but look around in awe. Amidst your sightseeing, you felt yourself run into someone, dropping the map you held in your hands. 

“Oh!” you gasped in surprise. “I wasn’t looking at where I was going. I apologize.” 

“I wasn’t looking either,” the stranger said in response, picking the paper map up for you before the wind could sweep it away. “Here you go.”

As he handed you your belongings, you finally managed to get a good look at his face. Surprised by what you saw—what you felt—you accidentally dropped the map once more. 

The man gaped at you before hesitantly reaching down to pick up your map once more. This time, he held it instead of giving it back.

“Would you like your map back?” he asked slowly, this expression unsure.

The memories of the past slammed into you as you looked into his turquoise eyes. The bright green burned into yours. This man in front of you did not have the characteristics of a Vidyadhara. He did not don horns, a tail, or sharp ears like he once did. But there was no doubt in your mind— This was Dan Feng. At least, the person that emerged from Dan Feng’s forced reincarnation.

Tears started flowing down your face as you wondered what to say. Should you even say anything? You didn’t want to lose him again, but you wondered if the man in front of you would even want to get to know you. Dan Feng was a high elder, a powerful one at that. This man must’ve had some dreams about his past life— What if they were bad? What if they were all of the punishment? The crime? What if no part of him remembered you?

As you stood there, stuck in your thoughts, you noticed the stranger staring at the horns on top of your head. Then, at your tears. 

Without saying a word, he seemed to understand. “I’m not him.”

Your breath caught in your throat and you felt choked up. You knew that. Of course a reincarnation wouldn’t be your Dan Feng. But would it be close enough? 

Shaking your head, you scolded yourself internally. This man is not Dan Feng, he said so himself. And it would be twisted to project the qualities of your lover onto him without even getting the chance to know him.

“I know,” you said sadly, a disdainful smile on your face. “I just…sensed some of him in you.”

He nodded, a guarded look on his face despite the tilt of curiosity from his neck.“What were you to him?”

You smiled sadly, clutching the map in your hands and relaxing again. “His disciple. A close friend,” you said. You gazed into his eyes with an unwavering look. “His partner.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

He hesitated for a moment, looking around the area. You were at the beachside with patches of sand, grass, and pavement lining the ground. “Would you like to sit somewhere and talk?”

Deciding it would be rather tiring for you to stand and talk all day, you agreed with his suggestion. Silently, you walked over to the sand with Dan Feng’s reincarnation in tow and took a seat. The ground was warm and soft as you ran your fingers through the rocky granules.

As you watched the waves crash against the shore, you felt your body relax. Cloudhymn magic often   well with the element, and you found you had a natural affinity towards it yourself. 

After a few moments passed, you figured that, since he wasn’t Dan Feng, it would be rather rude of you not to introduce yourself. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

He gazed out into the water before turning his head to you. “Dan Heng.”

Although you attempted to hide your amused grin, you felt the corners of your mouth lifting upwards. “Creative.”

He shrugged, fighting off a smile of his own.

“So, Dan Heng… Do you remember anything about your past life?”

“Some things,” he admitted, resting a palm on the sand behind his back. “None of them are good.”

You frowned. There was no doubt you blamed the Preceptors for that. Dan Feng lived years and years of life, love, and even sorrow. But for his reincarnation to only know him as something negative? That didn’t sit well with you. 

“Although, I have to wonder,” he continued, gazing at you with an inquisitive look in his eyes, “if he was capable of love and partnership, could he be more than the arrogant criminal my memories have painted him out to be?”

You softened. Any hatred he felt towards Dan Feng wasn’t his fault. And he was certainly struggling as Dan Feng’s reincarnation. 

“He was certainly more than a criminal,” you promised. “More than the Imbibitor Lunae, even. Dan Feng was a real person who experiences emotions and feelings, like any other.” 

Dan Heng’s brows furrowed, but he said nothing. 

“If you want to learn more about him, I’ll always be here for you to ask.”

“And if I don’t?” 

You smiled sadly. “As much as that pains me, it’s your right. Each Vidyadhara can choose how much of their past they want to remember or embrace— Or if they want to start anew completely.”

“I do.”

A long exhale escaped your mouth as thoughts of your past filled your memories. You made no mistake— The man in front of you was not Dan Feng. Dan Feng was deceased, and holding on to any hope would only be futile and lead to more main. 

Instead, the man in front of you was Dan Heng, a reincarnation of Dan Feng. A Vidyadhara who deliberately chose to not incorporate his past life into his current. And that was okay.

“I am remorseful,” you admitted. Dan Heng nodded in understanding. “However, I am comforted knowing his reincarnation is here, and he looks happy. Dan Feng would be happy for you.”

He laughed quietly. “I find that hard to believe.”

You gave him a look. “You don’t know him like I do.” 

“Yes, you’re right.” 

Dan Heng sighed in contemplation, conflict evident in his expression. You weren’t sure what exactly what he was thinking, but you sensed deep turmoil within him. It was only natural, you assumed, after something he had such conviction for was shaken at its very foundation. 

“Do you want to board the Astral Express with me?” he asked hesitantly. 

You blinked at the sudden question. “Pardon?”

“Sorry,” said Dan Heng, clearing his throat. “That was impulsive.” He paused before continuing. “From talking to you, I gathered that maybe you’re being held back by your past, too.”

Your eyes widened in surprised. You didn’t except him to be so blunt. Perhaps he had some similarities to Dan Feng after all. 

“If you’re lost or want a place to call home, maybe you can pay it a visit,” he offered nonchalantly. “We travel the universe and occasionally assist some planets. I have a feeling you’d like it.”

The Astral Express? You wondered how a place like that would be. For so long, you’ve been traveling alone, avoiding the Xianzhou and even some Vidyadhara who might know of your existence as Dan Feng’s disciple and lover. 

A part of you longed for a social connection again— A place to belong. 

After some thinking, you asked, “Do you want me there?” 

“Yes— As Dan Heng though,” he reminded firmly. “Not Dan Feng.”

You laughed in amusement. “Good. I’m interested in getting to know your new life, Dan Heng,” you said, extending your hand out for him to shake. “Thank you for inviting me in.”

He took it gently, his hand lingering on yours even after the handshake was over. “Maybe you can tell me more about Dan Feng once we arrive at the Express. The parts that aren’t so bad.”

The look on his face told you he was genuine. You smiled. “I’d love that.”

Understanding passed between the two of you as you sat there in contentment. The wind whirled around you and the steady sound of the waves soothed your soul. 

“I want to learn about Dan Feng’s life,” concluded Dan Heng, unwavering. “Still, I think it is best if we look forward to making new memories of our own more.”

You nodded in quiet agreement, eyes never leaving his. 

The past was something you held near and dear to your heart. Dan Feng was someone you would always love and respect. But perhaps the future would have more in store for you, if you only allowed it. 

And as Dan Heng smiled his small smile and offered you a hand up from the sand, you thought, This time, you would. 

[luffington]

young master ♡

➤ summary: You don't worship the ground Doflamingo walks on, and it turns him on a little too much. (18+)

➤ pairing: doflamingo x afab!reader

➤ word count: 3.7k

➤ warnings: kinda sub!doflamingo (he’s a horny menace), mild dubcon, possessive doffy, spit kink, oral (f receiving), masturbation (m receiving), degradation, name-calling

➤ notes: this takes place before dressrosa but i’m only halfway done with the arc so sorry for any inaccuracies! i haven't posted my writing online in years so please lmk what you think :3

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

Doflamingo was sulking. His signature smile was comically turned upside down and his arms were crossed over his chest. Feet resting on top of his desk as he leaned back in his plush office chair, crumpling the important documents strewn underneath them that he was meant to review and sign. He knew he probably looked like a petulant child, and he felt like one, too. This was all your fucking fault.

Even though you were only in your twenties, you were already a well-known Vice Admiral. Vergo had informed Doflamingo of your impressive Haki abilities months ago, but that wasn’t the only reason he kept a close eye on you. You were sexy as hell, even in a Marines uniform, and he delighted in every brief interaction he had with you at Warlord meetings. When you decided to take some time off, he snatched you up immediately with a tantalizing job offer. After all, working for him was technically still a Government job, and he was helping so many countries in need!

You made it clear from the very beginning that this was a temporary gig and you had no intention of permanently joining the Donquixote Family. You were his business partner, not his subordinate. He never planned on honoring that agreement, of course, but you were making his plans particularly difficult. 

The man had hundreds of thousands – if not millions – of loyal and passive subjects. Obedient workers who never questioned his judgment and praised his iron fist, from the filthy commoners at the bottom to the Elite Officers up top. But not you. 

You had the kind of effortless confidence that got under his skin. You were unbothered and detached from his evil antics, from him. He made his presence known everywhere he went and was always the focus of the room, but it seemed like you paid more attention to the damn servants than him. His threats and intimidation which made thousands tremble in fear hardly made you flinch. When he revealed the secret of Dressrosa’s toys in hopes of getting a reaction from you, you practically yawned. 

You knew who he was. You knew what he was capable of. You didn’t fucking care.

You weren’t afraid of him, and this greatly disturbed him.

A few days ago, you had strolled into his office without even knocking on the door. He furrowed his eyebrows in annoyance, but you barely took notice. You were there to discuss your agreement in order to figure out a time frame of how long he needed you. He threw his head back and laughed loudly as he said, “That’s adorable. You really think you can get away from me, hm?”

Perceptive as always, you noticed the slightest twitch of his middle finger and immediately held an Armament Haki-coated hand in front of your chest, blocking the nearly invisible string flung your way. “Doffy, I’m being serious.”

He frowned and narrowed his eyes. Diamante used that nickname once in front of you and now you wouldn’t call him anything else. You thought it was cute. “Since when can you block my strings?”

“Do you really think I’d be a Vice Admiral if I couldn’t do that? You were so obvious about it, too.” You clicked your tongue, knowing full well that anyone less powerful than you wouldn’t be able to perceive his movement. Prominent veins popped in Doflamingo’s forehead but the blonde man stayed silent. “I think I’ll stay here for a few more months, at least. Maybe longer if I don’t have a terrible time here. Dressrosa is kind of growing on me.” 

“You’re acting like I can’t keep you here by force.” Doflamingo interrupted your train of thought. “I could have Sugar turn you into a cute little doll, and then your Vice Admiral position would disappear. Or Giolla could turn you into a painting to hang on my wall.” He paused as if considering his options, knowing full well what he truly wanted. “Maybe I’ll keep you tied up with strings as my own personal pet.”

Many times he’d pictured you tied to the headboard of his bed, stripped naked and covered in his drying cum as he used you however he wanted. Perhaps then he’d finally ignite a spark of fear in you. 

“If you actually wanted to do that, it would’ve happened already. But you’re the one who hired me, remember?” You acted like you were explaining something obvious to a kid. “If you try anything against me, I can always call up the Navy and tell them what you’re doing to your poor innocent citizens. Maybe even let them know your alias? Begins with a J, right?”

“You wouldn’t dare.” He snarled, sitting up in his seat immediately and binding strings around your wrists to keep them pinned above your head. You kept your eyes trained on his, a determined and almost taunting glint in them. 

“I’m not a big fan of blackmail, so I don’t want to do that,” you replied in an even tone. “I’m just saying that I can. Now, are we gonna talk business, or are you gonna play cat’s cradle all day?”

Doflamingo should’ve killed you right then and there. That would’ve put an end to his confusing thoughts about you, but your conversation only made them worse. You were on his mind constantly, to the point where he couldn’t focus on anything else. It was an obsession, an infatuation, one completely unbecoming of a heavenly being like himself. People were meant to grovel at his feet and kiss the very ground he walked on – why the fuck were you not affected?

He finally had enough. He pushed the chair away from his desk and stormed out of his office. Servants hurried away in fear, knowing that his scowl and heavy footsteps meant nothing but trouble. A whirlwind of thoughts swirled around his mind — he wanted to make you scream, to completely immobilize you with his power, to kiss you so hard you saw stars. No, that wasn’t it. 

He wanted you to call him ‘Young Master’. 

Doflamingo threw open the double doors to a secluded drawing room in his typical dramatic flair. You were alone, reclining on a couch and reading a book. Even this pissed him off – you were in a potential viper’s nest, surrounded by powerful people who could turn on you at any point, yet you didn’t feel the need to keep others around you for protection. You turned your head towards the intruder in confusion. His massive body filled the door frame and light from the hallway illuminated him and his feathery coat from behind, making him look like a fallen angel.

“What Devil Fruit did you eat.” It was a statement, not a question. His voice was a dangerously low growl. 

“I already told you, I didn’t eat one.” You said slowly, slightly thrown off by his demeanor but still not afraid. 

“You lying bitch!” He roared, using his strings to slam the doors behind him as he crossed the room towards you in three giant steps. “You must have some kind of mind control ability, or manipulation, or… I don’t fucking know! Tell me what’s happening!” He threw his head in his hands and crouched over, almost as if he was in pain. “Why can’t I stop fucking thinking about you!”

Your mouth opened slightly and you blinked a few times to process the situation, and then it hit you. A sly grin slowly formed on your face as you dog-eared your book and set it down next to you. You knew this man was incapable of love in its purest sense, but maybe… “Doffy, have you never been attracted to someone before?”

His head shot up and he narrowed his eyes at you furiously behind his sunglasses. Of course he’d fucking been attracted to people – he refused to settle for nothing but the best with his lovers. He had fucked enough sexy men and women over the years to form a small army. But none of them were like you. 

They were all cheaply made toys, suitable for one or two uses then tossed in the trash when they broke or when he got bored. He was a greedy and spoiled child who always got what he wanted. But with you… it felt like he was staring through the front window of a shop at a shiny new toy. So close and so enticing but completely out of reach.

“Fuck you! I… I…” You would never know how that sentence was supposed to end, because he sunk to his knees and hung his head in frustrated shame. He slammed his fist against the floor hard enough to rattle the room. “Why won’t you belong to me?!”

The almighty King of Dressrosa, the feared Warlord, the powerful underground broker, was on his knees begging for you. He knew he sounded pathetic. He felt pathetic. But he couldn’t go a moment longer without getting what he wanted, what was rightfully his. 

To say you were shocked was an understatement. You had always stood your ground because you knew your worth, but sometimes you did it to purposely push the blonde man’s buttons since no one else seemed to have the courage to do so. But you were just teasing him – this was not the outcome you had in mind. 

You slowly stood from the couch to move in front of him. Even bent over, the massive man was practically your height, but he had never seemed smaller.

“Doffy,” you began in a quiet voice and reached out to gently touch his feather-clad shoulder, but he slammed the ground again. 

“I don’t need you to patronize me! I need…” he trailed off again and hesitated for a moment before realizing what he needed to do to calm the fire roaring inside him. Fine, he would give you a fucking reason to worship him. He threw himself at your midsection, making you yelp in surprise. He had finally drawn a reaction out of you, and it spurred him on even more. Rough hands yanked your shirt up to your breasts and he hungrily mouthed at the soft skin of your tummy, a frenzied mess of tongue and teeth and soft lips. “I need you. Give yourself to me.” He said breathlessly, punctuating his words with a sharp bite at your hip. 

You were frozen in place but weak in the knees, unable to do anything but accept his bites and bruises. You’d be lying if you said you’d never imagined what his long tongue and nimble fingers felt like on your body, in your body. He nipped at your skin hard enough to bruise then soothed it with his tongue, sending heat straight to your core. 

Doflamingo was in a drugged-like haze, mind clouded with a dizzying mix of lust and hatred and longing. He belatedly noticed that you weren’t resisting him when he popped the button on your jeans. When he looked up, he realized your cheeks were flushed and your gaze was trained on his long fingers dancing along the waistband of your pants. 

He smiled wickedly, feeling a sliver of regained control. “You fucking whore. You want this, don’t you?”

“Doffy, you’re the one literally trying to get in my pants.”

“Shut up.” He snarled, annoyed yet allured by your sweet giggle afterwards. He yanked your jeans down to your ankles to reveal pretty pink lace panties underneath. They practically matched the color of his coat – you had to have worn those just for him. Might as well take them later. 

A needy and unashamed whine tore from his lips when he saw your pussy. Even more perfect than he’d imagined all those times he fucked his fist alone in bed. He told himself this was what was necessary to crush that annoying ego of yours, knowing full well he was nearly shaking with pure carnal desire. He grabbed your hips hard enough to bruise and shoved your thighs apart before diving in. His tongue was ravenous, licking a sloppy stripe from your ass to your clit, mouth closing around the nub and sucking harshly. The sweetest moan he’d ever heard fell from your lips and he echoed it, eager to hear more. 

Fingers tangled in his short blonde hair as you tried to steady yourself. It was too much all at once. You tried to tug him away to tell him to slow down, yet wanted to pull him even closer. Doflamingo flinched at the contact. Part of him wanted to tie your hands behind your back because how dare you touch him without permission. But instead, he groaned at the rough pull on his scalp, which went straight to his hardening cock. His grip on you tightened as he dragged you further onto his face.

His long tongue lapped messily at your folds then slipped into your cunt, shallowly thrusting the wet tip in and out. He laughed in delight at your delicious juices coating his tastebuds and making his head spin.

“You’re so fucking wet.” He panted and rubbed his nose against your clit, making you jump. A sloppy string of his saliva still connected his mouth to your entrance. “I think you like me after all.”

“I’d like anyone who eats me out this good,” you quipped.

“But no one’s as good as me, hm?” To prove his point, he shoved the entirety of his skilled tongue deep inside you. You threw your head back and whined as the wet muscle curled and twisted inside you, hungrily lapping at your sensitive inner walls. “No one will ever be as good as me. Say you’re mine and you can have this every day.”

“F-fuck, Doffy… so, mmh, good…” He ate you out like a man starved, desperately sucking at every part of your pussy he could reach. One hand moved from your hip, leaving dark blue fingerprint-shaped bruises behind, and plunged into his own pants. He let out a deep groan at the contact.

“Call me Young Master.” Doflamingo breathed heavily as he pulled his pants down slightly. Your jaw dropped when he revealed his massive and fully erect dick, leaking beads of precum and bobbing against his stomach. You knew he’d be big based on his height, but this was inhuman. The blonde man noticed your hungry gaze and chuckled. “You want me so badly. Stop denying the truth and I’ll give you everything you want. I am a benevolent king, after all.”

You actually laughed at that, and he didn’t even try to be angry – being on full display for you meant he couldn’t hide the way your disobedience made his cock twitch. His other hand slithered between your legs and rubbed at your folds and the smile fell off your face.

You stumbled backwards – there was nothing behind you to lean on and your legs were quickly turning into jelly. “W-wait, Doffy, I can’t, ahh, l-let me sit…”

Two of his fingers moved downwards and bound your feet to the floor with his string. Immobilizing your bottom half like a statue but intentionally leaving your top half free to grab at his hair and body as you pleased. “Your king will grant you permission to move when I want to.” 

“S’okay, I l-like seeing you look up to me for once.” Your witty reply was lost on the blonde, who had spread your folds apart and was hypnotized by your entrance clenching around nothing. You were so fucking tiny compared to him and he ached at the thought of molding your insides to take him and him alone.

Just one thick finger was enough to make you moan and pant, slowly pushing its way inside your cunt. “Shit, you’re so tight.” The soft squelches of your inner walls rang in his ears and pretty pearls of precum leaked from his dick. “Perfect fucking pussy. Give it to me.”

A second digit was soon added, scissoring you apart expertly. Unsurprisingly, the man really knew how to use his fingers. He crooked them and brushed against your most sensitive spot, causing you to cry out and hold onto him even harder. Sharp teeth playfully bit at your inner thigh in response. Doflamingo gathered some of the constant dribble of precum from the tip of his cock to lube his rough palm. He considered making you spit on his hand to ease the glide, but a better idea came to mind.

“Spit in my mouth.” He ordered, tilting his head up and sticking his tongue out. Waiting for you to follow his command like a good toy.

You were taken aback by the sudden request, but you gathered a ball of spit in your mouth like you were told… and it landed directly on the lens of his sunglasses, obscuring the vision of one eye. Doflamingo knew that it wasn’t just badly aimed. This was an act of defiance. You intentionally spit on his defining accessory, his very essence.

“You stupid slut.” The venomous insult came with a maniacally pleased grin. He pushed the stained glasses onto his forehead and you finally saw his eyes for the first time. Gorgeous and bright blue with lust-blown pupils. Looking at his beautifully depraved expression in its entirety, you briefly wondered if he really was an angel. His fingers sped up to a nearly brutal pace and he slipped in a third digit, causing you to choke on your spit. “Love me. Love me.”

A divine being who fell from heaven to beg at your feet. 

“Y-you’re fucking insane,” you panted with a blissful smile, your cunt clenching down deliciously on him. “Make up your, mmh, mind.”

“Adore me.” He responded immediately. “Say you’re mine. Be mine.”

Even though you refused to respond, the blonde was lost in his fantasies yet grounded in the reality of your beautiful face scrunched up in pleasure. Mouth hanging open, hands nearly going numb from how hard you held onto him. He needed to see you like this every day – no, every hour. He could keep you under his desk like a pet, ready to suck his dick whenever he allowed you to. Or maybe you’d sit in his lap all day, one of his hands fondling your tits as he attended meetings and forced his subordinates to watch him play with his favorite toy. 

But that was too mundane. He could snatch up anyone in Dressrosa right now and do the same. No, the twisted fantasy that really made his cock ache was already happening. That annoyingly sexy confidence of yours was threatening his godliness. 

Maybe he’d make you step on him next time.

“Call me Young Master,” he begged again, too far gone to realize how ridiculous he sounded. Tongue hanging out like a dog (and panting like one, too), he rutted into his hand even faster. His cock was absolutely throbbing, red and angry and dripping precum. He was in no position to be giving orders. You stifled a giggle with your hand, which quickly turned into a moan as his fingers bumped against your cervix. 

“I already t-told you,” you sucked in a few shaky breaths. He was watching you intently and still smiling, but his fingers never slowed down. “You’re not my –mm– Master, I don’t, ahh, work for you…”

“But why not?” He whined again. “At least call me it when you cum. I’ll fucking kill you if you don’t.” 

You didn’t acknowledge the ridiculously empty threat, instead throwing your head back when his fingers crooked against your most sensitive spot. Slick was dribbling down your legs – Doflamingo licked it off of your thighs before slurping around his digits buried inside you. The blonde echoed your unashamedly loud moans, practically on the edge himself. He only needed one thing to send him into a rapturous white bliss. 

He stared up at you unblinkingly, face frozen in a grin as he took in all the telltale signs of your approaching orgasm. Sweat dribbled down your forehead, eyebrows furrowed together, body tense and breath hot. “I-I’m gonna… gonna…” He crooked his fingers inside you the way he’d done thousands of times to turn people into obedient little puppets.

“Doffy~!” Your face contorted into the most divine expression he’d ever seen, crying out his name like a desperate prayer. 

You ignored his order. You used that stupid fucking nickname. 

He came hard. 

The tight coil that had been building in his groin for days at the mere thought of you finally snapped. An animalistic moan left his lips as thick ropes of cum coated his hand and spilled onto his abdomen. He looked even more blissed out than you, panting hard and shuddering and nearly overstimulating himself with the hand on his cock still slowly moving up and down. 

Doflamingo finally removed his fingers from inside you and loudly sucked them clean of your essence. Still craning his neck upwards so he wouldn’t break eye contact with you. You could lose yourself inside that piercing gaze, so full of obsession and hunger, especially when it was coming from a position of worship rather than condescension. 

Blinking out of your stupor, you realized the blonde’s cum-coated hand was in front of your mouth. If you were anyone else, he would’ve shoved his fingers all the way to your throat and made you choke on it. Instead, he stayed still and kept quiet. This was an offering. 

You grabbed his wrist and kitten-licked his sticky palm twice, humming thoughtfully as if appraising the taste. His grin grew even wider. Then you pulled away and teasingly said, “You take care of the rest of it.”

Doflamingo simply giggled in delight — you’d willingly tasted the essence of a god, one that was soon to be your god, but you were still too stubborn to give in. He didn’t expect you to crumble so easily and he didn’t want you to. He was having way too much fun. The blonde smeared the rest of his cum on the crotch of the pink panties still pooled around your ankles. 

“That’s disgusting.” You huffed in annoyance and rolled your eyes. “What am I supposed to wear out of here?”

The man chuckled lowly and rose to his feet, suddenly towering above you at full height. He wiped the dried spit off of his sunglasses before returning them to their rightful place on the bridge of his nose. 

“Who said anything about leaving?” You paled at the sight of his devilish grin but felt your core clench in need. “You still haven’t called me by my proper title.”

[thot4ellie]

oh sweetheart pt. 2.5

pairing: boxer!ellie x f! jesses sister!reader

word count: 1.2k

rating: 18+ (smut will be coming in later parts)

warnings: dealer! boxer!ellie, weed, alcohol,

summary: ellie gets your phone number.

author notes: hi just something small for a filler, setting up for the next part, hoping to have it posted up friday the 1st! thank you for reading! pls reblog, comment, or like! i love the support, and thank you for over 1000 likes and 100 followers!! it’s a great feeling

italic = ellie and bold = reader

part 2.5 | part 3

series masterlist <3

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸

READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.

its been a week and a half since you last saw her when she drove you home from the match in her old busted truck. thoughts of her plagued your mind all week. you wondered if she was working. you wondered if she was out with friends. you wondered if she was thinking about you. she is but you don’t know that. you’re not aware she’s thinking of you also. thinking of the way the smell of strawberries stained her car after you left. thinking of the way you said you like it when she calls you sweetheart.

both of you wonder when the next time you’ll see each other is.

its a wednesday afternoon, you’re currently sitting on the couch with dina. she’s the only friend you have down here so far and its not weird that she’s dating your brother. she has come over a bunch, helping you shop, getting little things for your apartment, watching movies and of course, getting high. which is exactly what you’re doing right now. you both sat on your old lumpy couch and watched the iron man series that you had on dvd, not paying to much attention to the tv, but rather your conversion.

“so no luck still? you should just come work with me at the farm, i mean i love it- the horse shit not so much.” dina exclaimed.

“yeah its like no one is hiring, i may have to take you up on that, i still wanna keep looking though, maybe something will come along.” you told her.

“yeah avoid horse shit as long as you can, something will come along don’t worry!” she said trying to make you feel better knowing you’re stressed. but at the end of the day, you need something to fill your time besides thinking of the boxer that drove you home.

you guys just sat and talked then eventually as the credits rolled for the last movie, you got up and started to clean up the mess from the pizza you ordered earlier. after you went to the kitchen and put the plates in the sink, you grabbed the bottle of wine and two glasses and made your way back to dina still in the living room. you hold it up to her and with the look on her face, you knew she was thinking the same thing.

by the third bottle, it was 10pm and you’ve run out of weed and not much wine left but you both are feeling great, laughing and giggling like kids. its nice to have a friend you thought.

“what are you doing friday night?” she questioned.

you responded to her, “probably exactly what im doing right now” you both laughed.

“well there’s another match this weekend, me and jesse are going if you want to come along again, ellie will be there too.” she replied. you couldn’t hide the smile on your face when she said her name.

“woah! what’s with the smiling and the blushing…” she joked asking. you didn’t tell either of them what happened that night at the first match. from outside or inside, they assumed you both got an uber and you didn’t tell them any differently.

“nothing, i just thought she was nice thats all.” you said trying not make any signs of anything more.

“oh she is!,” dina started, “well maybe not at first but once you get to know her, we’ve been friends for years now,” she laughed and kept going, “she fights at the gym sometimes, but she works there too, its a good hang out space plus cheap drinks. plus she’s bringing us the restock.” she finished as she picked up her weed jar.

“oh you get it from her?” you inquired, thinking back to the faint smell of weed in her car when she drove you home.

“yeah she’s got good stuff and nice deals, ugh its great, always easier to get it from someone you know,” she ended. you thought about asking her if you could tell her to get you some to and for some other non-obvious reason but she beat you to it.

“ill send her your number and she’ll text you.” she said to you as she pulled out her phone and sent a message. a few moments later, her phone rang and she answered, it was jesse waiting outside for her so she gave you a hug and grabbed her stuff and you walked her to the door.

you locked it before you turned around to sit back down on the couch, grabbed the wine glass and poured the last bit in your cup, you were still drunk and definitely feeling it. you heard your phone buzz and you picked it up, answering the call, not paying attention, thinking it was dina but the voice surprised you.

hey sweetheart

you didn’t expect her to call so soon, you haven’t even given yourself a moment to think about what to say beforehand. you weren’t prepared for this. you feel yourself getting nervous over the girl you only met last week but you just cant help it. she’s been on your mind since you met her.

hi ellie

dina sent me your number i hope that’s okay

yes she said she was going to

well in that case, she said you needed to buy

yeah we managed to smoke up all her stash and i haven’t gotten any since i moved here, probably cause i didn’t know where to get it

well no worries, i’ve got everything you need sweetheart.

thank you ellie, you said smiling but she couldn’t see you through the phone, you wondered what she’d think if she saw how red your face was right now.

you can call me el sweetheart, no need to be so formal.

she laughed through the phone, and then asked if you were coming to the gym on friday with your brother and dina.

they invited me but i hadn’t thought about it yet, not wanting to sound too eager about the potential thought of seeing her on friday.

mhm- well you should, we’re just gonna have some drinks and chill so nothing crazy. but i will have the weed for you then if that peaks your interest.

bribing me with drugs?, you laugh into the phone and she laughs with you.

if that’s how you want to put it sweetheart, sure

you smiled into the phone, not even sure how to respond to that before becoming flustered, before you continued,

i guess we’ll just have to wait and see then…

yeah i guess we will… goodnight sweetheart.

that was the last thing she said before she hung up and you sat staring back at a black screen. thinking that now she has your number and you have hers.

it’s almost 11 now as you brush your teeth, throw on a t shirt and cuddle up in bed. falling asleep to the thoughts of how friday was going to go when you finally saw her again.

[two-white-butterflies]

do i wanna know? | m33

Description: Max Verstappen begins dating Tony Stark's daughter.

Pairing: max verstappen/nepo-baby!reader

y/n_stark: happy father's day, so much to be thankful for ✨ tagged: tony

192 comments 182,390 likes

tonystarkisasigma: #1 alpha male

maxverstappen1: Happy Father's Day - f1forzaferrari: ariana what r u doing here 💀

schecoperez: ¡Feliz Día del Padre! - ilikesmootheis19: BYEE WHAT ARE THEY DOING HERE

danielricciardo: pls tell ur dad to give me a seat 😇 - y/n_stark: will do!

yukitsunoda0511: happy birthday

alonsohamiltonworld: friendly reminder that tony stark owns redbull and alpha tauri, that's why the drivers are kissing his @ss

Y/N STARK ALLEGEDLY DATING AN F1 DRIVER. by deuxmoi (podcast)

Deuxmoi: So allegedly a famous billionaire superhero nepo-baby is dating an F1 racer. My bets are on Y/N Stark, because her dad is the only superhero with kids. As for the F1 racer, we're not sure - some people in my dms say that it's Daniel Ricciardo, Charles Leclerc or Max Verstappen.

y/n_stark: first time in the redbull garage, totally in awe ✨

928 comments 128,349 likes

maxverstappen1: 💙🧡 #OrangeArmy

landonorris: aww missing you here - ynfans: YA'LL BE SAYING IT'S CHARLES, DANIEL AND MAX BUT IT'S OBVIOUSLY LANDO BYEE

tony: ❤️🔥

ynfans: a thread on how y/n stark is dating lando norris

Y/N was in England the same time Lando was in England. (picture proof: she's the one who took the photo)

2. Lando commented "aww missing you here" to her post 3. They would make a cute couple. I rest my case.

9 comments 100 likes

carlandoisbae: bitch bffr

grimes49r: "(shes the one who took the photo)" girl just kys 😭 they're obviously not dating

y/nfans: ok, if she's not dating lando then she's dating charles ya'll stfu because idgaf

avengersassembleconspirancy: I'm praying for the driver that manages to date iron-man's daughter.

10 comments 1,293 likes 12 retweets

peterparker1001: praying for max verstappen 😁 - ynismymommy: I CHECKED HIS PROFILE? HE INTERNS FOR TONY STARK, AND THEY'RE LIKE CLOSE CLOSE 😭 - ilovecaptainamerica: someone is getting fired 💀🤣

y/n_stark: since the cat is out of the basket 🤷🏻‍♀️💕 tagged: maxverstappen1

2911 comments 292,201 likes

maxverstappen1: 🧡💙

peterparker1001: really sorry mr verstappen 😕

starkfashion: how did ur dad react? - y/n_stark: we'll know in a few minutes 💗💕

tony: I feel sorry, - peonysandsuid: me too, she deserves better -- tony: for Max

maxverstappen1: Cheers to more laughter ✨ my lucky charm ❤️ tagged: y/n_stark, tony, redbullracing

819 comments 912,384 likes

carlandolover: bro tagged his entire family 🥶

verstappenleclercbonus: bro isn't scared of tony stark 🥶

y/n_stark: handsome and spectacular 💕

danielricciardo: aww cheers mate 🥂

lokiandthorareinnocent: bro said, i'm the boss now 🥶

AITA FOR ACCIDENTALLY EXPOSING MY BEST FRIEND'S RELATIONSHIP?

I, student, M have a friend - 23, F, and she's been in a relationship with a very famous guy for over a year now. She's very private and lowkey with all the things that she does. Now, instead of using my alternate account in commenting something - I used my real account and their relationship got exposed. She tells me that it's perfectly fine and that she doesn't blame me but I feel really bad. AITA?

3 upvotes

aragornofmirkwood: nta divorce the alternate account

benelopecruz: if she says that she doesn't blaim you, nta

maxverstappenisnomber1 max verstappen after pulling tony stark's daughter

starkfamily99 tony stark after a broke man *worth $60 million* dates his daughter

starkfamilyisworld how i imagine tony talking to max: "100 Million, stay away from my daughter"

y/n_stark: SMASH. WAIT WHAT WAS THE GAME?

193 comments 293,129 likes

y.nbutterflyworld: this is how i know tony stark is a good dad 😭 his daughter's type is SO far away from what he looks like. Sis has no daddy issues fr 😭

next part

[casualcomicfan]

Things non-comic fans get wrong about Peter Parker.

Several people who don't read the comics seem to get ideas about characters and how they act. It's fine when you're doing to characters you know about, but for characters you don't know about, not so much.

Please note: This post is not meant to gate keep anyone from comics, MCU or any other Marvel related products.

#1: He is ugly. This one is false for the most part. Look at the women he has dated, Liz Allan, Gwen, MJ, Black Cat, Carol Danvers and others.

#2: He is naive. This one is also false. Peter is optimistic. There is a difference. Peter himself recognizes that the world is a terrible place. However he thinks it can get better. That is the whole point of him not killing his enemies.

#3: He has to suffer to be relatable. No, just no. This one is false. He doesn't have to suffer to be relatable. He is relatable because he deals with relatable problems. He is nerdy, has to make ends meet, etc. That is how he was relatable. Not suffering. And certainly not whatever the f#ck is going on in the current run.

#4: He is hated by other heroes. This one mainly stems from the Superior Spider-Man comic arc, but is still blatantly wrong. He has several friends in the comics, such as: Daredevil, Deadpool (to an extent) Wolverine, Luke Cage, Johnny Storm, Cloak and Dagger, and several others.

#5: He is not respected by the other heroes. This was also caused by Superior Spider-Man. However several people respect him. Mr. Fantastic and Iron Man respect him for his intelligence. Captain America calls him on of the greatest men he's ever known. Thor says (in a complimentary way) that he was the most mortal man he knew. T'Challa let him eat a Heart-Shaped Herb. Hulk was one of the few people who knew Peter's identity after OMD.

#6: He was a teenager for most of his publication history. The first ever Spider-Man comic was published in August 1962 in Amazing Fantasy #15. He he graduated and became an adult on June 8, 1965 in The Amazing Spider-Man Volume 1 #28.

[bordysbae]

hii!!! congrats on 500, i love your work so much!

could i request a blurb with 1. "you're the only one who can calm him down" from the fluff list and 5. "i got in a fight because of you" from the angst / sad list with trevor zegras?

thank you!! congrats once again, your writing is amazing! <3

“not even dating”

trevor zegras x f!reader

🦋 BORDYSBAE’S 500 CELLY!

ahh tysm! i’m glad you enjoy my writing it means so so much!

— ୨୧ —

although you two aren’t official, anyone who knows boston university’s hockey player, fraternity brother, and student, trevor zegras, knows who you are. if there’s a party, best believe you’re there and under his arm. if there’s a hockey game, you’re wearing one of his boston hoodies. it’s a ritual at this point. neither of you are seeing anyone else, and everyone knows that.

you two are practically the it couple of boston university, but it’s ironic since you two aren’t even dating. this has been going on for at least three and half months now, but you don’t mind. you kind of like being unlabeled and so does trevor, but what he doesn’t like is other guys talking about you.

“yo trevor, you see y/ns recent insta post? if you won’t cuff her up i will,” trevor’s teammate dominic says. one of trevor’s eyebrows raises, “what’d you just say to me?” he chuckles angrily, hoping dom is just messing around.

“look man, she’s a nice girl and she’s hot too. you better cuff her up soon before someone else does,” dom shrugs. trevor rises from his spot on the chair and makes his way towards dom. suddenly he throws a punch right at doms left eye, and gasps can be heard. trevor attempts to throw more punches but not before he’s held back by his other teammates.

as he’s being taken outside of the dorm room he states, “and for the record dom, i have cuffed her before,” with a smirk. he can’t control his anger as he paces the dorm hallway, and his teammates can only think of calling you. they take his phone and dial your number, only praying you’ll come over and help.

“hello? trev? aren’t you with your friends?” you question.

“hey y/n, can you come over? trevor got in a fight, and you’re the only one who can calm him down. we’re at doms dorm.”

those words make you let out a huff before you grab your things and head out the door. dominics dorm is only a block away, so you walk your way there. you climb the stairs to the third story, and see trevor sat in the stairwell with his head in his lap. “you okay?” you ask as you sit next to him.

he looks up at you with a soft smile, “i’m sorry,” he states. your brows furrow, “why are you sorry?”

“because y/n, i got in that fight because of you. dom was talking about how i’m gonna lose you if i don’t ask you out soon and i just got scared and angry. what if he’s right?” trevor mutters quietly.

“well he’s wrong. i’m not going anywhere, i’m ready for anything whenever you want it. you know that, trev,” you say quietly, matching trevor’s tone. you rest your head on his shoulder and take his hand in yours.

“so, you’re okay with being my official girlfriend?” he nervously asks, making your cheeks heat up. “you know i am, so yes trevor. i’ll be your official girlfriend,” you smile while taking your head off of his shoulder. you look into each others eyes before leaning in and meeting halfway. kissing as an official couple for the very first time.

[vase-of-lilies]

❀  Pairing: Dark!Vampire!Wanda x Vampire Hunter!Reader(F) (Some Wolf!Bucky x Reader x Wanda)

❀ Warnings: Non-con, dubcon, violence, vampire-esque content, dark!Wanda (she’s a warning…), blood and gore, draining of a body, biting for sexual stimulation, overstimulation, fingering, violence, swearing, use of a dagger, knife play, forced to strip, getting bitten by a vampire but not turning into one, bondage (restraints from ceiling), a punishment, pet names (Sweetheart, little one, etc.), slight somnophilia, spanking, and more!

❀ This is my second entry for @eloquentreverie ’s dusk till dawn challenge! The sentence I chose is:

“Take off your clothes. Slowly. I want to watch you.”

❀ Disclaimer and Authors Note: The pictures only represent aesthetics and themes. There is no certain skin color, body type, ethnicity, or description other than Y/n and “you”. The pictures go to their rightful owners on Pinterest, and the comic-style pictures belong to the beautiful artist Jenifer Prince.

❀ I hope you like this addition to the collection of Creatures and Foreigners! I would die and be resurrected for vampire!wanda. Literally. This is a re-write, since the original was in 3 parts. To keep this organized, I just made it one post!!

It was time… It was time to catch the creature that was terrorizing the beautiful village you live in. Yorkshire is where you are from, where your beautiful home stands. It's a small cottage with a perfect view of the mountains gracing the East, the sunrises your favorite part of the day. When the sun sets in the west, it's when everyone locks their doors with iron chains, keeps a wooden stake by their beds, a garlic circle around their homes, and prays to the [whichever you believe in] and hopes they survive the night. 

You finally had the will to change this. To help the people you love feel a little safer at night who were terrified of the vampire who lived in the castle on the South Hill. The dark bricks and stones towered over the town, casting a large shadow over everyone at dusk. That shadow was the sign that it was time to prepare for the worst, for the creatures of the night to begin hunting for their midnight snacks. And lastly, for the vampire to find her next source of blood. 

For Wanda, she always loved human blood but never complained with cow, or sheep blood. It was the blood of a fighting soul that tasted best to her. There was something so satisfying watching the life drain from someone’s eyes once their body is empty of their blood. However, whether it was a man or a woman, she loved to torture them before she killed them. She would keep them locked up for days, weeks even, and keep them on their toes. She would feed them one day, and then break their legs the next. She was a storm that you never want to be stuck in the middle of. 

Packing your sash full of what you need was not a challenge at all. Each piece of equipment had a slot that it belonged to. One for your wooden sword, a small chain of iron links, garlic garland, iron cross bow, and last but not least your gun with the solid iron pellets ready to kill any vampire you see. It was not very heavy as one would think, having it around your shoulders made it very easy to access everything as well as keeping it light for you to carry around the woods. 

Wanda, being one of the only vampires in Yorkshire, knew she was being hunted. She could sense the tension coming closer to her castle every step you took down the newly stoned and paved pathway. She could smell your villager blood from miles away. It was a scent she could decipher in a split second. Cow blood smelled cold, almost like a winter morning. But human blood smelled like the moon had created it, making it much more appetizing than a mere animal. 

~~~~~~~

You could see the dark bricks of the castle from a far, your wooden sword drawn and ready to strike anything in its path. The forest became silent, indicating a predator was near and hungry. Leaves were heard crunching under fast footsteps coming closer and closer by the second. Your head whipped from right to left, not knowing where these footsteps were exactly. 

“Show yourself creature!” You shouted into the darkness of the forest. 

“Who are you?” A dark voice echoed in your surroundings, not pointing in a certain direction. 

Not shying from her, you answer honestly. “Y/n, of Yorkshire.” 

She chuckles, “Ah, so townsfolk, hm?” She watches from behind a tree as you struggle to find where her voice is coming from. She senses your fear, so to make matters worse she drags her nails against the trees creating an ear-splitting noise, making you drop your weapon and cover your ears. 

“Ah!!” You shout in pain. As you pull your hands from your ears your skin is coated in the sticky, crimson liquid. “Your time has come, y-you evil creature!”

Wanda chuckles at your struggle, “My time will never come… but yours have.” 

Your brows furrow and you reach for your iron bar. You smirk as you hear the hissing of the vampire, her power of sounding everywhere fading significantly, pointing in the direction of where she could be. “Don’t fucking come near me!” She growls, hiding behind another tree.

“Oh, so I found your weakness…”

She whimpers in response, “Don’t t-touch me!” Lighting your lantern, your eyes catch movement, and you grab the chainlink and throw it to where you see her. 

“Aha! Finally!” You walk over to her, smirking at her as she falls to the ground. “You are going to grant me a fortune…” You say darkly, looking at her with false pity in your eyes. Around you, a growling catches you off guard. Looking around, you don’t see anything immediately, but what Wanda says churns your stomach. 

“Y-your in t-tr-trouble.” She stutters, moving away from you slightly. Wanda smirks and you jump back in fear as a large black wolf shields the vampire. Grabbing your dagger, you lunge forward with no fear. 

“She’s mine!” You growl, slashing the wolfs shoulder making him whimper but he pushes through and pounces on you, biting your leg and ripping a chunk of skin off. You scream in pain, and scamper back as He rips the chains off of Wandas body. 

The last weapon you grab is your gun. You cock it back and point it at both the vampire and the wolf. “Stay back!” A whimper leaves your throat as you scoot back again, your leg dragging against the damp and cold soil below you. 

Wanda glares at you her eyes turning red and a red light appearing at her hands. Before you can pull the trigger, she flings the gun from your hands and your head follows it. Like lightning, your sash of tools was cut from your body and you were flung over Wandas shoulder like a sack of potatoes. 

Your arms and uninjured leg flail as you fight against the strong grip of Wandas arms around you, and as you look down from over her shoulder you see the wolf looking up at you smugly. He was with her all along, he wasn’t trying to take her too… You sighed and continued to struggle, all the way to the castle, down two flights of stairs, and through a door to a dungeon full of cells. She throws you onto a dingy cot in the corner of a cell, cuffs your wrists with metal cuffs that don’t hurt her, and leaned against the bars. 

“Let me go you monster!!” You pull the chains connected to the wall hoping to break them. But to no avail were you able to get out of the rings that locked your wrists. 

“Not happening.” Wanda states, staring at you from the edge of the cell. She looks at your leg and her hands turn red once again. You were scared as you felt the tingle in your leg, watching in awe as the chuck of skin missing from your leg was miraculously healed with only a few scars. It was just like the townsfolk said, she will torture you one day, and heal you the next. Making you unaware of what is going to happen next. 

You growl and shout at her. “What do you want from me??” You look up at her, tugging and pulling against the chains again. 

A hard slap across your face shuts you up, and you fall against the cot in surprise. You feel the hand shaped sting and a bruise already starting to form from how hard she hit you. “You tried to kill me and wanted to kill my baby!” She rubs soft circles against the wolfs slick black fur, and he whines softly as she grazes over the cut on his shoulder. 

You look at the wolf who is now eye level with me and you glare as you see your blood staining his teeth. “F-fuck you.” You whisper at him, scooting back as you feel blood dripping from your nose, the act of the slap causing trauma to your nose as well. 

“Oh don’t listen to her baby,” Wanda says calmly as she kneels next to the wolf beside her. “You’re such a good boy.” She smiles as he lets out a happy ‘arf’ and you roll your eyes at them.

“He’s a dumb dog.”  You scoff, leaning against the cool brick wall as you hold a piece of your dress against your nose. To your surprise she slaps you again, making you whimper once again. 

“He’s not just a dumb dog!” She shouts, outraged at your utter disrespect towards her loyal friend. As she was about to lunge at you, a gust of wind blows against your body and you look up to see a greek god of a man, who was formerly the wolf. You yelp in astonishment, never thinking that a werwolf and a vampire would ever be on the same team. 

“Mistress, she’s not worth it.” The man says, holding Wanda by her hips as she tries to scratch and punch at you. You scoot impossibly further from them, and you see Wanda visibly relax as the man holds her hips in his hands. 

“Bucky, she hurt you… she has to pay.” She whispers, ghosting her fingers over the wound on his shoulder. 

He only chuckles and cups her cheek. “Hey, it’s ok… it’ll heal up in no time. She’s weak, it barely hurt.” He kisses her lips, and gently runs his fingers through her hair. You growl and you look away from them, telling yourself internally that you are strong and that you almost had the vampire until the stupid dog showed up. 

She only sighs, staring up at him. “Such a good boy, protecting your mistress…” You mute them in your head as you look around, trying to find any way of escape. Pulling against the chains keeping you locked to the wall was not an option anymore, and fighting was practically useless against either monsters. Maybe it would be a good idea to cooperate. NO! No, don’t fall for her enchantment. She is evil. 

As Wanda sends a final slap to Buckys ass, he leaves the cell and you jump at the door slamming. It was when you were alone with Wanda that your fear really kicked in. “Hmm… look at you all scared.” She saunters over to you, a sadistic smile pulling at her lips. Chills are sent up your spine and a shiver shortly follows. You are vigorously pulling at the chains, whimpering every inch she comes closer to you. 

She sits down on the cot next to you, grabbing your newly healed leg and digging her finger nails into the sensitive skin. “Ah!! St-stop! Stop!” You sob, trying to push her away with all your might. She doesn’t budge and chuckles. 

“Now why would I do that?” She raises her brows at your reaction, smiling as you writhe against her, your whimpers music to her ears. She is arouse by your writhing and she digs her nails even deeper, tears free-falling down your cheeks. She ignores your pleas, shaking her head in disappointment. “You hurt my love. I certainly won’t stand for that.” 

You turn your head, your teary eyes focusing on the lines of the bricks stacked around you in your small cell, trying to ignore the pain in your leg. “What d-do you want f-from me?” You ask in a shaky voice, trembling under Wandas touch. You are confused as you feel warmth on your leg where her fingers had drawn blood. 

“You taste so fucking good…” She whispers. You furrow your brows and you realize she had tasted your blood. You pull at the chains, managing to kick her away from you as you struggle. She growls, having none of what you are giving her. She pounces on top of you, making you groan in pain. “Be grateful I didn’t kill you!”

A pained whimper makes you resent her even more, so you gather spit in your mouth and spew it onto Wandas face. She wipes the spit away in disgust and smacks you across the face again, much harder this time. Your vision becomes blurry and your head feels like it is in a daze. “Please, l-let m-me go,” You stutter, whimpering as you feel helpless looking up at her from your position below her. 

She ignores you and she runs her nose against your neck and to your ear “No,” she whispers, her fangs barely grazing your neck. With a smirk, she closes her jaw, puncturing your skin with her teeth. You scream in pain, your back arching against her as you struggle underneath her. 

It takes everything for Wanda to not drain you, so she pulls back reluctantly. “Shit, you taste like heaven,” she moans at the taste of your blood, smiling as she licks up the puncture wounds adorning your neck. “Mmm, you look better like this…” She says, looking at your writhing and twitching body on the cot. She bites her lip, her pussy starting to form a slick spot on her under garments. Her smirk scares you, and you stare at the ceiling trying to pull at the chains but failing miserably. 

“Please, n-n-no mo-more,” you curl against yourself, trying to hide your vulnerable form from your captor. She smacks your thigh, making you turn around on your back again. She chuckles darkly and bites her lip once again. 

“Look at you…” She says, not pitying you one ounce. It takes much strength to try and sit up, but you manage to do so with a lot of pain. Bowing your head into her lap, you beg her to make the pain stop. 

“Please! Pl-please it hurts s-so b-b-bad!” The bite pulses in pain, my blood pumping to try and close the wound. Sobs and whimpers make your body shake, and Wanda takes notice to her puncture wound on your neck. She sighs and begins to heal it, gently lifting you up. 

“It’s ok…” She says, rubbing small circles on your back as she lays you down on the pillow at the top of the cot. You quietly thank her as you feel the wounds on your neck close, the pain ceasing completely. 

“Why are you keeping me here?” You ask in a raspy voice, confused as to why she hasn’t killed you yet. She looks at you with a tilt of her head, thinking as to why she is keeping you. She smiles to herself and comes to a conclusion. 

“Because I like you. I don’t like that you hurt my baby, but I do like you.” You shook your head. Because she liked you? What is that supposed to mean? Not wanting to be on her bad side, you take the time to apologize. 

“I-im sorry I hurt him. I was trying to make my town finally proud of me.” You sigh softly, scooting away from her and pulling at the chains again.

“It’s ok sweetheart, you’re safe with me.” She whispers. 

“Dont you understand that Im scared of you?” You whimper, “Y-you bit me, a-and hurt me,” Your eyes meet hers, your confusion making you angry. “What is my purpose? A-am I just a toy? What am I?” You ask her, salty tears rolling in beads down your cheeks. She sighs and wipes the tears from your skin, giving you a soft kiss on the nose, ignoring your questions. 

“You’ll get used to me, I promise.” She smiles and pulls away. 

Your eyes narrow, as she stands up, leaving you. “What am I? Pl-please tell me!” You ask desperately, standing up with her but only making it so far until the chains pull you back. 

“Ill see you tomorrow, sweetheart.” Wanda says with a soft smile on her lips, closing the cell door and locking it. She makes her way up the stairs, ignoring your screams and profanities as she locks the dungeon door behind her and hanging the keys on the hook right next to it.  

When the sun rose the next morning, you waited anxiously for Wanda to come back down. Maybe she forgot about you, or doesn’t want to deal with you. What you dreaded most was the fact she may use you as a human blood bag and kill you. You didn’t fear death, you feared the feeling of your blood draining slowly from your body. The blood bubbling at every bite she leaves on you. The fear blocked the fact that it was morning, and she was most likely asleep in the darkness of her chambers above you. 

As you waited, you too fell asleep, dreaming of a place where you would rather be. Safe and in your best friends presence. “Steve… I miss you so much,” You whisper before fully dozing off. Deep in sleep, you don’t hear the metal cell door open and Wandas soft footsteps enter the room. You were too focused on staying warm in your shivering state. 

Wanda took note of your cold and shaking body, so she waved her hand and a soft, furry blanket appeared around your body. She smiled as you cuddled into the soft material and watched you sleep for a moment. Falling out of her staring trance, she sits down on the cot next to you. She gently rubs your back whispering, “Sweetheart? Sweetheart, wake up.” Instinctively you lean into the soft hand against your back, but the memories bombard their way back into your head making you sit straight up and scoot all the way back. 

You stared at Wanda with wide eyes, scared of her further intentions. You are confused as she hands you a bowl of cut up fruit and vegetables, curious as to where she got this food. “Here you go, eat up.” You furrow your brows and look down at the fruit, picking at it. Fishing for some type of sign of poison. Wanda just chuckles and leans against her hand as she watches you. “I promise, its not poisoned. You need to eat, especially after I drank some of your blood yesterday.”

Exhaling the breath you were not aware you were holding, you pick up a ruby, red strawberry. Ripe and firm to the touch. You close your eyes and let out a satisfied hum as you take a bite, the sweet tasting strawberry surrounding your tongue with glorious flavor. 

Wanda moves closer to you, sitting right next to you as you eat. She nuzzles her nose against your neck where two little fang marks sit proudly. You don’t take notice of her fully, the delicious fruit distracting you from Wandas intrusions, even lifting your head up in response. She hums a small chuckle and kisses your cheek, “You are so beautiful, little one. So beautiful.” Freezing your chewing, you swallow and look up at her in slight surprise, her comment catching you off guard.

Butterflies flutter in your belly at the closeness between the two of you, her warm breath against your lips and chin. “Do you really think so?” You whisper, not believing what she is saying at first. 

She nods, “I do, you’re so pretty…” She whispers back, kissing the soft skin of your neck. “And you smell so good, little one.” She hums as her nose moves up your neck, her lips pressing soft kisses in between soft sniffs. The gentleness of her gestures makes you drop the glass bowl in your hands, causing it to shatter against the stone floor. 

Both you and Wanda jump and she pulls away quickly. “Damnit, I can’t get many bowls or plates these days.” She murmurs, starting to collect the broken shards. 

“I-im sorry, I-it slipped,” You stutter, kneeling down to help pick up the shards too. You were too quick with the glass, cutting your finger in the process making you pull back with a wince. A small amount of blood oozes from the small cut and Wanda freezes, her pupils blown full at the smell of the exposed blood. 

She holds back, grabbing a small cloth from her dress and hands it to you, “Here.” She says curtly, but she is stopped. She tilts her head as you hold your hand out. 

“I can see how much you want it,” You say softly, wincing as she gently holds your hand in hers. 

“Are you sure?” She asks hesitantly, softly moaning at the smell as she gets closer. You nod and she brings your finger to her lips, licking the wound and emitting a low hum at the taste. Her eyes close and you look at her curiously. She is in a euphoric state, she is vulnerable and not paying attention when she is drinking your blood. Slowly you begin to become dizzy, the amount of blood coming from your finger increasing by the second. 

Before you can warn her, you fall against the mattress, fully losing consciousness at the loss of blood. Wanda sighs, laying down beside you on the bed. “It’s ok, I got you…” She whispers, her hand roaming the front of your body softly. Her hands cup your breasts, her finger grazing your pebbling nipple from under the fabric of your dress. Wanting to feel more, she unties the twine keeping the leather vest of your dress on and she smiles as it comes loose, your breasts showing themselves under the thin tunic. 

She reaches down your tunic, rubbing your bud softly between her fingers. Her lips kiss your neck, moving slowly down to your slightly exposed back. You feel her as you sleep, but you can’t comprehend anything to stop her. A small whimper exits your mouth and she pulls away for a moment, waiting for you to settle down again. Once your breathing is even, she explores further, lifting your shirt from your tucked in skirt. 

Her hand smoothes over your belly and just over the waist band of your undergarments, pushing under the fabric and to your soft curls underneath. She smiles as she buries her face in your neck, her fingers softly opening your petals and gently running her fingers over your slit. As she holds your folds open, she rubs circles over your clit, making you moan quietly in your sleep. 

As she pleasures you, she bites your neck softly only sucking a small amount of blood this time. Your gasp makes her smile around the wound on your neck and it makes her want even more of you. Her finger moves faster around your sensitive bud, your back arching against her front. Your legs open even more as you lay your head back against her. 

As she moves even faster, a strong and mind numbing orgasm washes over you, pushing you over the edge. Your legs shake in your sleep, and Wanda smirks as she removes her fingers from your undergarments. She brings her fingers to her mouth and hums in delight. “Absolutely delicious, my love.” She whispers in your ear, smirking as your breaths calm down from pants, to a normal rhythm again. Her hand moves to your breasts again, just holding the soft flesh in her hand and palming against them. 

She sighs as she senses you waking up, and makes sure everything is back in order; your shirt tucked into your skirt, tunic back in place, and laces on your leather vest tied with a bow at the top. Sitting up, she frowns at the raw skin and dried blood from around your wrists and unlocks the cuffs. She wraps her hands around the raw flesh and heals them in an instant, kissing them softly. 

She has hope that when the sun sets and the moon rises, you will no longer be in pain. “Mm, such a beautiful girl…” She whispers before she leaves the cell for the night, not thinking twice of the unlocked chains and completely forgetting to lock the cell and dungeon doors. 

~~~~~~~

You were only asleep for a small amount of time, waking up without Wanda anywhere to be seen. You sigh and sit up, feeling quite odd in your lower regions. However, the lack of metal around your wrists made every other thought disappear. Being able to walk around the cell felt nice, but your curiosity took you further. Right to the door. As you pushed, you were even more astonished as it opened. 

Pushing your luck even further, you walk up the spiral staircase to the door of the dungeon. With a gentle nudge, it squeaks open to reveal a large corridor, torches lit on each wall and blood red curtains hanging from each tall window. You were trapped and you were finally free, but the first thought you had was, ‘Where is Wanda?’

You wandered through the hallways, finding your way to the great hall, you come across a grand staircase. Alining the stairs was beautiful red and gold carpet and above it was a dark and spider web-covered, crystal chandelier. It shimmered as the fired torches flickered around the hall. You start to make your way upstairs, and as you walked down yet another hallway, you are stopped by a growl behind you and a searing pain in your leg. 

You instantly scream in agony, struggling against the iron jaws of the werwolf. He didn’t let up, even after hitting his head as he dragged you down the hall and to a bed room. Wandas bed room. Your eyes widen and you dig your nails into the carpet, only resulting in bleeding fingers. As you entered her room, you look up in fear as the woman towers over you. 

“Well, what do we have here?” Wanda tuts, looking down at you. 

You sob loudly as the wolf digs his teeth into your freshly healed leg. You yelp and you look up at her, “I- I wasn’t going t-to es-escape! I wa-wa- AHHH!” The wolf bites down even harder and you try your best to hit him, but it doesn’t phase him. 

“Buck, stand down…” She says, calling off the dog. She grabs you harshly by your shirt and drags you to her bed, throwing you on the mattress. “Don’t lie to me!” She growls, glaring at you as you push yourself away from her, scooting to the top of the bed. 

At this point you weigh out your options: One, you try to escape and get killed by Wanda, “Buck” the dog, or your village when you get back with no vampire. Or two, you stay here and get food, possibly a lover, and a pet dog. The latter sounded more than enjoyable and you break saying, “I- I promise! Th- the chains we-were off me wh-wh-when I woke up! P-please! I- I don't want t-to leave!” 

“Are you sure?” She asks with a growl, crawling towards you with a scowl on her face. “If you’re lying, I’ll feed you to him…” She says, pointing to Bucky who falsely lunges at you just to scare you. As you jump back from him, Wanda only chuckles.

“I-I’m not lying! Y-you’re so kind, a-and fed m-me!” You try, and Wanda sits down across from you on the bed. She grabs your ankle and pulls you to her. Her hands glow a bright red and the pain subsides from your leg again. You sigh in relief, hoping that she will forgive you. 

As she looks at you, she shakes her head and sighs softly. “I believe you, but there will be consequences.” 

Letting out a breath, you nod in understanding. “Y-yes I understand, please forgive me, i-it won’t ever happen again.” You sob, following her gentle movements as she pulls you to her arms. Your head falls onto her chest and she comforts you as you calm down. 

“I forgive you, little one,” She whispers, kissing your head softly and tickling the skin of your arm. “Now let’s go, I need to punish you.” She says, sitting up. Suddenly cold as ice again. Her bipolar emotions confuse you, just like the village said, she keeps you on your toes. 

She hardly grabs your wrist and pulls you down the flights of stairs to the dungeon again. You swiftly follow her, trying to keep up with her fast walking pace. Once in the dungeon, she pulls you to a different portion of the room, one full of many torture devices now considered controversial to use. You freeze as you take in the new surroundings and you jump as the bars slam closed and lock behind you. 

Wanda steps into the far wall of the room and grabs her tools she desires: Rope and a wooden paddle. You stared in horror at the tools as she lays them down on the table next to a long chain connected to the ceiling. From a hidden sheath on the side of her thigh, she pulls out a sharp dagger, pointing it at you. 

She stalks towards you, holding the knife at the height of your neck. Backing up, you whimper as your back hits the cold, metal bars, Wanda then putting the tip of the blade against your neck. “Strip.” She says, pulling away from you. Frozen in fear, you don’t account for her command and you stare at her. To make you cooperate, she sends a glowing ball of energy towards you making you duck in response. 

“Im going to repeat myself, and you better listen this time…” She says in a dark voice, only warning you once. “Now, Take off your clothes. Slowly. I want to watch you.” 

Swallowing your pride, you obey her. Untying the twine holding your vest over your torso, untucking your tunic from your skirt, pulling the string from around the back, and finally the removing of it all. Wanda was in fact a very patient women, and she made that clear. She growls at your speed and makes her hand light up with energy again. “Slower…” She says. Once again, you obey.

One piece of clothing after another, no less than four (4) seconds between each. Finally, you were down to your brazier and pantyhose. Wanda watches at you, a sadistic smile on her face as she saunters towards you with the dagger in hand. She grabs your wrist and pulls you to the middle of the floor. Of course you struggled. Wanda was angry, and you had only seen a sliver of it. 

“Good girl… hold your wrists together.” She says, holding the dagger to your neck again. You felt immense fear as you held them together, and sucked in a breath as a tendril of red energy wraps its way around the dagger keeping it against your neck. Wanda moves around you, grabbing the rope from the wooden cart settled near by. She comes to your front again and begins to wrap a few rings of rope around your wrists. Circle by circle of rope, you were rendered unable to move your hands anywhere, only your arms could move up and down. 

You whimpered as Wanda wrapped a heavy padlock around the middle of the rope and easily pulled your arms up to the hook hanging above you. She steps away, taking the dagger with her and moves to the far wall. Using her strength, she pulls the chains connected to the ceiling up higher than it was before, pulling you up with them. You arms pulled against your body and when she finished locking the chains in place, you could barely graze the floor with your toes. 

Whimpers left your mouth and you could’t hide the fear anymore. Salty tears fell down your cheeks and landed on your chest and the floor. With false pity, Wanda pouted her lip. “Aw, don’t cry little one… It will only hurt a little.” Her voice was full of lies, and you knew this pain would be excruciating. 

Tears fell down your cheeks, but Wanda paid no attention to your emotions, only your reactions to the sensations she was going to give you. In an instant, she had cut through the thin material of your brazier leaving your breasts exposed to her. She smiles and leans down, kissing the ample skin of your right breast. Your nipples harden in the cold atmosphere of the room, Wandas mouth and hand going straight to them. She rubs, licks, sucks, rolls, and pleasures your buds, pushing a burning desire in your lower belly. She could sense this and smirks as she runs the knife down your torso. 

She turns the knife against your stomach, tilting it and smirking at the small bit of blood pooling at the surface of the small cut. “Mm, I can smell you… my god you smell so fucking good, little one.” She smiles against your breast and kisses along your belly all the way to the small cut just above your belly button. As her lips encase the wound, she moans in delight at the taste of your blood. Her sharp fangs graze against your skin and she nips as she moves lower. 

Her dagger is now in the waist band of your underwear, teasing the fabric, slowly tearing it. As she makes it through the elastic, she puts the knife down and rips your underwear in two, tossing the fabric at your feet. As you stand bare in front of her, she stands back, a smirk adorning her face. “So beautiful…” She whispers, starting to circle your hanging body. You cross your legs, trying to cover your most intimate parts, but are quickly stopped as Wandas hand slaps your thigh. “No, keep them open. I want to see what’s mine!” She growls, smoothing her hand over the skin of your legs. 

As she stands behind you, she grabs the paddle, spinning it in her hands. “Alright, how many should we do?” She asks to no one in particular. She hums and chuckles, “How about until you bleed?” She whispers in your ear, biting your earlobe. She takes a step back and raises the paddle, swinging it against your ass, hard. You scream in agony, attempting to walk forward, only moving right back to where you were. Wanda admires the red mark on your ass, smiling as she rubs her hand against your burning skin. 

Another swat, another scream. More tears fall down your face with each and every hit from the wooden paddle, yet the fiery feeling in your gut gets stronger. It was a confusing feeling, getting aroused from being beaten. 

It felt like ages when Wanda finally stopped. Your ass was sore, bloody, and bruised. A dark black and purple spot forming on each cheek. She puts the paddle down and reaches for more rope. You silently groan at the thought of there being anymore to come. Gently, Wanda grabs your knee, wrapping the rope around it and pulling the excess rope to the hook above you. The raises your leg, slowly starting to expose your slick folds to her. She follows by securing your other leg in the same fashion. 

Now fulling spread out for her, she hums at her work. “Are you ready for the good part?” She asks.

You shake your head and look at her, “N-nothing g-g-good is going to co-come.” You stutter, your voice scratchy from the previous screaming. She sighs and shakes her head. 

“You poor, little thing. There are so many things I can make good, if only you would obey, and submit to me.” She steps closer, her hands holding your hips. 

You look down at her, whimpering in response. Your silence is enough of an answer to her, indicating you were not falling for her games just yet. She removes one hand off of your hip and looks down at your pussy. “Look how wet you are,” she says, rubbing her hand over your soaked lips. You struggle to close your legs, the rope rendering you completely un able to move. Her fingers spread your pussy open, your clit revealing its throbbing self. 

Your slick covers Wandas fingers as she dips her fingers close to your hole, smirking at your reaction. “You must be so sensitive, huh? Your ass all bruised. Is that what made you so wet?” She tilts her head up, looking for an answer. You shake your head quickly, not wanting to admit that it was the exact reason you were wet. 

To your horror, Wanda approaches the chain holding you up again. She raises it until you are much higher than before, your body swaying with her movement. Wrapping the chain around the hook to keep you where you are, she returns to you, your pussy right in front of her face. “I’ve been waiting to taste your delicious nectar all day…” She says, kissing your inner thighs softly. 

You hold your breath as she takes her first taste of you, her tongue licking a stripe right between your petals. Her tongue swirled around your clit, the bud inching to be touched. You can’t deny it, the pleasure that she is bestowing upon you is mind-shattering. The moans from your mouth make Wanda smile, her fingers coming to join her mouth. 

She sucks on your clit, her lips closing around it, and her fingers poking at your hole. You try to avoid her but it doesn’t work. As she continues to suck on your sensitive clit, two fingers slide into your pussy. You let out a soft sob, an unintended moan slipping out right after. Something inside of Wanda loves the sounds you make, her pussy feeling the same tension as yours. 

As she works her fingers in and out of your cunt, you are already close to your first orgasm and Wanda can’t wait to see it. She witnessed one while you were asleep, but she knew it was nothing like when you would be awake. Faster her fingers became, and your moans became louder as they curl inside of you, rubbing against that one good spot. 

One soft graze of her teeth against your clit was what sent you over the edge. Your legs shake, your orgasm passing through your whole body. Your mind was empty and seeing white, your chest was heaving, your pussy was throbbing, and your toes curled in pleasure. But Wanda didn’t stop. 

An hour went by. She devoured your cunt, not letting you take a break. Five orgasms later, she finally pulled away from your pussy, letting you rest. You were exhausted, your eyes barely able to stay open and your mind unable to comprehend how long you had been tied up. Wanda looked up at you, kissing and rubbing your legs to soothe you. “It’s ok, little one, its all over now.” She says with a soft smile, your head hanging in front of your arms and looking down at her. 

She walks to the wall and gently lowers you to the ground. She unties your legs, but keeps the rope around your wrists. Picking you up, she brings you to your cell again, laying down with you. She pulls your tied arms over her head, forcing you to hold her and she hums as she nuzzles into your neck. 

You lay silently, sleep taking over your system. Wanda hums a quiet lullaby, knowing deep down you loved every minute you were in that dungeon. Maybe someday she will move you out of the dungeon and into a room of your own. Or even her room. But at this moment in time, she wanted to hold you and tell you everything is going to be ok, because it will be. She will protect you and never let you go despite your desperate attempts to escape. Some days she purposely lets you escape, get halfway into the forest, and have Bucky drag you right back into your cell. 

It is laughable what effort you put into it, even though you know she will catch you Every. Single. Time.

And you accepted that. She won no matter what. You even learned that Bucky really likes his chin scratched in his wolf form, but you both have a love-hate relationship. Always calling him a dog, or a mutt, and him calling you a blood bag. 

Wanda kept her word and protected you from anything that was thrown your way. In return, you kept her full of nutrients and energy. She used you for dessert, blood and body both. You learned to love it. Everything Wanda did to you, for you, with you, was out of love. Love and of course, lust. Your blood kept her alive, and she looked forward to it after a long night of hunting. 

She deserved it. After all, she saved you from your horrible town, right?

[braxlrose]

Hi!!! A new fan of tokio hotel here and I was wondering if you could write some dating headcannons for gustav for a gem reader whose also in a band? Much love btw <3

I've been looking through the requests and finding georg and gustav stuff so yall can get some more so here we go!!

dating gustav

cw: mentions of sex, cockwarming, kissing, oral (f and m recieving), etc.

✮ he's the type of guy who holds the side of your waist while walking down the street. not for possessiveness or any of that shit, just because he likes it and it makes you feel safe. He also knows the sidewalk rule. keep that in mind ladies.

✮ even though gustav is a fantastic cook now, he mostly just made stuff from boxes in the 2000s. but yall would always make stuff together.

✮ when you're on your period, he always makes you stuff. especially milkshakes. he's got a signature one, which is just vanilla ice cream, peanut butter and bananas. but it tastes amazing, and gustav always puts so much love into it.

✮ he gives you backrubs, and footrubs, brushes your hair and brings a heating pad for you. im telling you guys, he's literally the perfect bf.

✮ when yall finish a song on stage he comes up behind you and gives you hugs and kisses. and the fans eat. it. up.

✮ but if he's not wearing a shirt and he comes up behind you, he's gets you all sweaty. I just love you so much I can't help it. he says. but let's be fr. he's just a little shit. we still love him though.

✮ he tries to teach you how to play the drums, he sits you on his lap and holds your hands and wrists to show you what to do. and he rests his chin on your shoulder which he ends up breathing in your ear. totally doesn't make you clench your thighs and get wetter and wetter every single. but mans also gets soooo annoyed when you're doing something wrong 😭

✮ cockwarming while teaching you how to play drums is a must. i don't remember who wrote it, but I swear I remember reading it somewhere. @bored0writer edit: THIS IS WHO WROTE IT AND ITS AMAZING OMG

✮ like I had said in my last post, gustav is a soft dom. disagree w/ me all you want, but it's true.

✮ after concert cock sucking is so good. you both love it so much. you have adrenaline running through your veins and it feels so good.

✮ he has the softest lips in the entire world, it's insane. so kissing him is so nice.

✮ he takes you on the cutest dates. whether you two are going out to dinner, to a movie, or just staying at the hotel rooms, they're always amazing.

✮ he's also got super soft hair which is amazing to run your hands through when making out or fucking.

✮ he'll lay between your thighs for hours after teasing and leaving hickies on your thighs.

✮ he likes to hold down your thighs when he's eating you out and fucking you with his tongue because it gives him better control and he likes that. a lot.

✮ whenever you try and rut against his face while he's going down on you, he'll slap your cunt as many times as he wants until you learn your lesson (if you're into that).

✮ and on the other side, he's a big sub too. always moaning and groaning and whining and wriggling underneath you as you pump and suck on his cock. ironic huh. he's so sweet and whiny. and he's totally got a mommy kink. big time mommy kink.

✮ loves it when you ride his thigh. thinks you look so sexy.

✮ if you play the guitar, you'll try and teach him how to play too but he'll end up complaining how his fingers hurt. poor baby :(

✮ you two always share hotel rooms and stay up watching movies together

✮ I STAND BY THIS. he is the best cuddler to exist. he's so soft and squishy, and since he's got some chub on his stomach, he's so nice to cuddle with.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed!! TY for all the requests

tag list:

@burntb4bydoll

@hearts4kaulitz

@saumspam

@spelaelamela

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Stonemilker [Joel x f!reader]

Read on Ao3

Fandom: The Last of Us (HBO)

Ship: Joel Miller x you (cishet f reader)

Tags/warnings: Heartache, breakup stuff, Ellie lives and Joel is lying to her, sad sex, you know this is ending sex, Couple fighting, idk what this is folks, it's a sad story with a hopeful ending.

Summary: When Joel returns to Jackson with Ellie, something has changed. Can your relationship survive it? Takes place after episode 9 of season 1.

Words: 3,967

A/N: The title Stonemilker is the title of the first track of Björk's Vulnicura (2015), an album solely about the end of a relationship. Cheers to @rambling-in-purple for reading it before posting <3!

Joel returned a changed man. A younger man. A less hurting man.

Ellie was with him, of course, hugging you tightly in the kitchen of the small house you had been given. You had been setting the dinner table for one when she had burst in and called your name, Joel striding in behind her. You dropped the plate, and the porcelain pieces spread around your feet.

Little did you know that your life was about to shatter in the same way.

Joel gave you a warm hug, nothing more. You wanted to hear everything about their journey, but they were both tired and hungry, so you gave them time to shower and change into clean clothes while you adapted dinner to feed three.

Later that night, when you went to bed with Joel, you saw the hideous wound on the right side of his stomach. He told you what had happened since he and Ellie left Jackson.

He told you everything: the abandoned college, the stab wound, and how close he was to dying. Ellie saving him. The resort. All the dead bodies. The hospital.

His decision. Hallways of dead people left behind. His lie to Ellie.

"Joel..."

He looked at you with shrouded eyes. Where there used to be an iron curtain, there was now a thin veil that showed depths of horrors, but also hope. It scared you more than the hard metallic gaze that you were used to.

You knew why he did it. You understood him. You would probably have done the same.

"You have to tell her."

"One day, I will."

"Sooner rather than later. She deserves to know the truth."

There it was, the unyielding steel in his eyes. He never appreciated being told the obvious. But when Ellie did that, slapped him in the face with inconvenient truths and poignant teases, he grimaced to keep from smiling. When you did it, you received a glare.

You had always thought that that glare was yours because Joel didn't have any other way of expressing his reluctant amusement. And it was, but there was a smile-hiding grimace as well, just not for you.

Something had changed. You didn't realize just how much until a few weeks later, when you were out with the hunting party, and a cougar popped up so suddenly that not even the horses had smelled it. It was a young animal, probably a male looking for a territory of its own, and you were the closest to it. Your horse reared, you fell off, hit your elbow on a rock that just had to be precisely there. As if by some miracle, your head missed it, though. The wind got knocked out of you while your brain was screaming frantically at you to get up and get your gun, but before you could move, a shot rang out over the plain, and the horses neighed in fear.

Deion was by your side a moment later, brows knitted together in worry.

"You okay?"

Breath returning, you began to feel the impact of your fall. Left elbow was smarting, your ass was probably bruised, and your heart was beating a mile a minute from the scare.

"I'm fine," you managed to wheeze. He helped you up, carefully pulling you on your feet. He held your hand as he inspected your face for discomfort. You let him. It's comforting, that big, warm hand holding yours.

"You sure?" He wanted to be certain before he let you go. You nodded and forced a smile.

"I'll have a bruise, but I'm good." You've had worse, so much worse.

The warmth of Deion's hand lingers on your skin long after he releases your hand. As you get on the horse and ride back to Jackson, you find yourself thinking about how Joel never showed such concern for your well-being. And he doesn't do it now, either, when you return sooner than expected, moving like you're in pain - which you are.

"You need to be more careful," he tells you gruffly. You know it's his thing, he doesn't do softness, and yet... he does to Ellie. He speaks kindly to her, laughs with her, talks to her about things beyond mere survival. Tells her about his daughter. That's a new one, he never even mentioned his daughter to you.

It's heartwarming to see him thawed. The glimpses of who he used to be melt together with who he is now. You always suspected he was a great kind of guy before the world went to shit and he was forced to become a version of himself that he himself hated. And it hurts you more than the bruising that he cannot be this new person with you, only with Ellie. She deserves the best Joel, you know that, but don't you? After all you've been through with him?

You argue with him later that night. That's also new. While you may have disagreed with him occasionally before, you have never fought about it. Maybe it's the comfort of Jackson, the fact that a disagreement no longer means the risk of death. Maybe you have just had your fill.

"You could at least say something that doesn't make it sound like it's my fault!" you yell, unconcerned with your voice carrying over to the next room where Ellie is asleep. "You could ask me if I'm okay!"

"I can see that you're okay," Joel replies irritably. "I've seen you take worse hits."

"I am not okay, Joel!" The words are spat into the half-lit bedroom and the silence that follows is heavy from the impact. Joel crosses his arms in front of his chest and looks at you with unreadable eyes. It's not his usual glare, the one he gives you no matter the reason, because it's all he's capable of. It's just... closed. Like he has nothing more to give you.

You sleep in separate rooms that night. Ellie is unusually demure in the morning, looking from you to Joel and back to you, clearly bothered by your fight the night before. You make a mental note to talk to her after breakfast but before you can suggest an activity, Joel asks her if she wants to go out shooting.

Okay, let Joel deal with Ellie.

You go to your chores, which consist of animal care for most of the day. Deion joins you. He wants to know how you're feeling.

How are you feeling? Bruised and annoyed. Sad and confused. Touched and frustrated. Abandoned. Lonely.

"I'm good," you assure him with a light smile. "A little sore, but I've had worse."

All day he sees to it that you rest. He takes care of the tasks that will aggravate the aches of your beaten-up body. He reminds you to take a break when it's nearing lunch time.

He cares so clearly. Is this what it's like, to be with someone who cares?

Ellie is bubbly that night. She and Joel have had fun, she tells you, and you're happy for her. Ellie is a child who was never allowed to be one. She deserves carefree days. She deserves a father figure, a dad. A mom, too, but you have no idea how to be that. Especially when things are so askew with Joel. Whatever things are, were, should be. You and Joel used to be about teamwork, survival, partnership. But life in Jackson is different. What you two had, were, is not needed here. What else can you be?

Joel watches you take your clothes off when you get ready for bed. You turn your back to him, maybe out of misguided, sudden shyness, maybe to show him the bruise that has painted half your back. It was dark red yesterday, now it's turning purple.

His feet are heavy on the floorboards when he walks up to you. His rough fingers are surprisingly soft when tracing the outlines of the bruise. You close your eyes, lean into his touch, sigh softly when he kisses you neck. You lie down on the bed and let Joel take you. He's gentle, more so than usual, but every thrust pushes you against the bumpy mattress, hurting you. Neither one of you speak but when Joel has finished, he cradles your face in his hands and kisses your forehead so softly that it's barely a kiss at all. You turn your back to him when you go to sleep. Your muscles are sore from the coupling, and you quietly love that tenderness like one would a bittersweet heartache. The bruise on your lower back throbs like a young heart in love, and when you turn onto your side, away from Joel, you wish he would kiss the miscolored blossoms.

But he doesn't. He simply turns away from you, just as you turned away from him. With a canyon between your warm, spent bodies, you both go to sleep.

Ellie accompanies you to your chores the next day. After a quiet hour of cleaning the stable, she eventually asks you if you're mad at her.

"No, Ellie, why would you think that?" you ask, immediately regretting your poor choice of words. She shrugs, leaning against a stall door, both hands gripping the handle of the pitchfork, the prongs scraping loudly against the floor.

"You've been weird since we got back. You and Joel have been fighting."

"That has nothing to do with you," you lie, hopefully convincingly. Ellie looks up at you, a hard glint in her eyes.

"I'm not stupid. You never fought before, not for as long as I've known you."

You stop your sweeping but don't know what to say.

"You barely talk to each other," she insists.

"It's complicated," you tell her feebly. "But it has nothing to do with you, Ellie, I promise."

"Then what is it?"

You shake your head. "I'm not going to talk about our relationship with you, Ellie. It's not your problem."

"It is my problem if my - " she stops herself, the word parents hanging in the air for a second, before she continues: " - if you two are going to, I don't know, get a divorce or some shit."

An amused scoff escapes you before you can stop yourself. "We're not married, Ellie."

"I know. But you're, like, together, right?"

"I don't know what we are," you blurt out, averting your eyes so you don't have to see her reaction at your confession. You hear the scraping of her shoe at the floor.

"Did you count on me not being here anymore?"

Her voice is small and sounds so different from its normal curious and teasing tone. A clump forms in your throat.

"Ellie..."

"I'm in the way."

You let go of the broom and focus instead on Ellie, standing in front of her and taking the pitchfork from her so that you can grasp her hands.

"You're not in the way," you tell her firmly. Ellie looks away, and you shake your head to stress your words. "Ellie, look at me."

She meets your steady gaze, and you see how conflicted she is. Poor girl. She is a child. You can barely remember what it was like to be that age and besides, it was another world ago, but you do remember that it was difficult and confusing for so many reasons.

"You are not in the way," you emphasize softly. "But this situation is new, for all of us. This place. This dynamic. We're not just surviving anymore, Ellie, we have a chance to live. And I... I've never had that chance with Joel before. So I'm struggling a little right now. But it has nothing to do with you, okay? You just... be you. You're so good for him, Ellie, you have saved him in more ways than one."

She purses her lips, and you see her throat muscles work as she swallows.

"Okay," she finally nods, quietly. You press a smile, try to look like this problem was resolved.

"Okay." You give her a quick hug before going back to your work. Ellie seems relieved but you can't stop thinking about how you pinned it all on your own back. You are struggling, you are having a hard time of this new way of life. As if Joel has nothing to do with it. As if his broad, once so safe, and reassuring back isn't now turned to you in cool detachment.

You try to bring the topic to him later that night, tell him that Ellie is noticing and worrying. It ends in a fight and this time it's Joel who sleeps on the uncomfortable couch. You lie awake, wondering what went wrong. Is it really you who changed? Are you being a selfish bitch, jealous of a 14-year-old girl? Do you really want life to go on as it did before, in the Boston QZ, fighting for your life with Joel by your side?

Why is settling down so hard?

Nothing changes in the coming weeks. Talking to Joel is like milking a stone. Every now and then the two of you fight, as quietly as you can when Ellie has gone to bed. You still think he should tell her. He refuses to, and you can see the fear in his eyes. Ellie will be furious with him; you both know it. The longer he keeps her in the dark, the worse it's going to be. You find yourself wishing that you'll be far away when the day comes.

One early spring day you ride out with Deion to check on the traps. You've spent most of your days with him these past few weeks. He appreciates you, sees you, wants to hear your opinion. He takes you to the movies. He asks you about your past. He shows interest where Joel barely even wants you at night anymore.

The snow has started to melt in the sunshine, and you find a sun-kissed clearing where the ground is yellow with glacier lilies. The air is warm, and you can smell the changing of the season. You dismount and crouch among the delicate yellow flowers, hover your hands over them, smile in childlike delight when you see bees buzzing from flower to flower. You can't remember the last time you saw bees.

In that clearing, you ask Deion to kiss you, and he does, almost immediately. Not until the kiss is over does he express regret.

"You're with Joel."

"No, I'm not."

He smiles, and kisses you again, and you remember those first pre-teen infatuations: the warmth, the excitement, the heart-stopping angst about whether or not the subject of your passions felt the same. You remember all that but only feel it radiate from Deion. The feelings are unrequited.

That night you collect your few belongings into your backpack and leave the house. You hug Ellie and ask her to forgive you. You say nothing to Joel, and he says nothing to you.

You do not go to Deion, but instead to the boarding house where new arrivals are placed while awaiting homes of their own. Deion is kind, and he showed you what it would be like to be with a person who genuinely cares for you, but you don't want to rebuild your shattered life around a man.

A week later you mount a horse and leave Jackson. You have no plan, no light to look for, but you can finally breathe freely. Heading west, you ride at a slow pace all day, enjoying yourself more than maybe is appropriate. Your saddle-sore backside in the evening doesn't put a damper on your joy when you sit by your small fire with a cup of herbal tea. This is the start of something new, maybe disastrous, but definitely different.

The dark woods around you don't scare you, neither does being alone. You realize now just how alone - lonely - you've been these past couple of months, smack in the middle of the warm and well-organized community that Jackson is. Its friendly inhabitants weren't enough: you only wanted kindness from one single person. To be alone out here, by choice, feels a lot better than the time spent in Jackson.

When you prepare to leave the campsite the next morning, a horse emerges between the trees. Instinctively, you reach for your gun before your brain has processed the face of the rider.

It's Joel. Your mouth falls open and your legs feel weak.

"What are you doing here?" you manage when he dismounts. His hunched shoulders tell you clearly that he's uncomfortable and also stalling as he, very meticulously, ties the reins to a nearby tree. You wait impatiently for him to acknowledge you. When he finally does, his nut-brown eyes are clear in the first rays of the sun.

"I'm here to ask you if you would consider returning."

You have to bite your tongue in order not to laugh out loud. Your hard stare tells him everything, and he shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

"I'm going to tell Ellie about what happened at the hospital."

You raise an eyebrow. "Why are you here telling me that?"

"Because when I do, she's going to hate me, and I can't stand losing both of you."

"It's a little too late for that, Joel."

He nods, wets his lips. Looks away and draws a wet breath. Rests his hands on his hips, purses his lips. You realize he's fighting against unwanted yet inevitable tears.

Joel crying. That's a new one.

Moments pass, minutes, maybe hours, days, you have no idea, but you keep staring at Joel as he stubbornly looks to the forest, as if there was an answer or saving grace to be had between the trees. You are relentless in the midst of the rising sun, the singing birds, the soft shush of the wind through the budding treetops. He has to make the first move, show something, say something. Offer an explanation to why he stopped listening. Where did the apathy in his eyes come from? Why did he suddenly decide to show no concern for you?

He brings his hand to his eyes, rubs them quickly with forefinger and thumb. He then turns back to you.

"Ellie misses you."

You stand your ground, implacable as you wait for him to continue. Finally, he confesses:

"I miss you. The minute you left I started missing you."

"Then why did you let me leave?" you ask flatly.

"I wasn't going to stop you if that's what you wanted."

You refuse to engage, even though you want to scream at him: Do you think I wanted to leave?

"Was it Deion?"

"What?" Your eyebrows meet in a surprised frown. "What about Deion?"

"You spent so much time with him. Did you... was there anything between you?"

Unable to play it cool anymore, you take a step closer.

"How fucking dare you? You have no right!" Your horse and Joel's shift their weight, ears twitching nervously.

He's a little taken back with your raised voice, but he doesn't match it.

"Sorry," he mutters instead, and now it's your turn to drop your jaw. For a moment, both of you just stand there, looking at each other, trying to find some common ground to share so that things can be resolved.

It's Joel who finally finds that little patch of soil to sow the seeds of reconciliation.

"You remember how I tried to make Tommy take Ellie to the Fireflies?" he asks, and you nod mutely. Of course you remember. The tension in the house had been so thick you could have cut it with a knife.

"But I took her. And everything that happened after that... happened. I have to live with the consequences. I just had to keep her."

He shakes his head, something desperate filling his features. "If I get to keep her, I can't keep you."

"What do you mean?" you ask quietly, not following. The long look he gives you is anguished, but he stays quiet, as if he has said too much. Your brain is working at full capacity until it has connected the dots.

"Is this some kind of 'can't have too much good shit in my life' bullshit?" you ask hoarsely, almost afraid of the answer. "Because that is just... Joel, you are an idiot."

You're shaking by now, and Joel bristles a little.

"Look, Ellie has nobody else. She's stuck with me, for better or for worse. She's a kid. But you are not. You can have someone better."

"What if I don't want anyone better, what if I happen to love a complete fucking idiot who doesn't deserve me but is stuck with me because I chose it myself!?" you scream, tears filling your eyes and escaping down your cheeks. Joel winces, as if you just slapped him, but when he sees your tears, he closes the gap between the two of you with a few long strides. The next thing you know, you're crushed against his broad chest, smelling his sweat and slightly woodsy scent with leather and horse and melting snow. He holds you so tightly it's almost constricting your breathing, but you don't fight back. You've fought back for long enough.

"Darlin'," he murmurs throatily. "Darlin'. You love me?"

"I did," you sob. "But I don't know if I still do."

He's quiet, his hand moving in slow, comforting caresses over your back. Something is broken in you and the splinters are pressing against your internal organs, making breathing near impossible. Your face against Joel's chest, you think you can sense something break in him as well.

"You're right," he finally whispers. "I am an idiot and an asshole."

Your only response is more tears because now he gets it, now the milk is flowing from that goddamn stone, and it just might be too late. You don't know if you can trust him to handle your broken pieces right, or if there is a second chance for him in you.

There is no telling how long you stand like that, entwined in a sad, desperate embrace. The sun's rays start to feel warm even when you're cold inside. When your tears finally dry up, you shift in Joel's arms, and he releases you. You can't look at him, can't let him see you like this, but he gently places his finger under your chin, and raises your face to his.

"Am I too late?" he asks. His eyes are red and there are wet trails on his cheeks. You swallow hard, try to navigate between your desires and needs.

"What would change?" you finally ask. He places his warm, slightly sweaty palm against your cheek and brushes his thumb just under your eye, catching a lingering tear.

"I would love you."

He has never said that word to you before, and you want to ask for a detailed description of what it entails. How will he love you? Will he listen, help, support, share?

If Ellie decides to hate him, will he hate you in return? Will Ellie?

On the other side is a vast wilderness of no coordinates, the unknown with all its dangers. What are your chances of survival, of finding decent people? Jackson is full of decent people, and now also Joel and Ellie. Joel, who hurt you. Ellie, who is torn between the two of you.

He waits for your answer, and you find that you don't have a definite one to give him. But you know what direction to take.

"We'll talk about it on the ride back."

If that direction is a way forward or a way back, you don't know. You just feel that it would be wrong not to try.

[mochalate]

[3] precipice ; porco galliard (1/2)

pairing: porco galliard/f!reader  chapter word count: 24.6 k  chapter content/warnings: secret meetings in the dark, crushing on your bf/gf, porco's scandalous sexual history, some angsting about marcel, girls' night out  chapter summary: The most precious secrets are the ones that are the hardest to keep. a/n: this is overdue, isn't it? 🤭🤭posting as two parts because I learned tumblr has a post length limit!! As always, please let me know what you think, I love hearing from my fellow galliard girlies. <3 Read on AO3? || See Series Masterlist? [<-Chapter 2][Chapter 3 (2/2)->]

chapter 3: Wine and Moonshine

The walls in the basement are whitewashed and plain.

Above, in this part of Liberio that comes alive at night, the cobblestone shines dully in lamplight that spills through the windows of the establishments lining the streets. Men whose faces are flushed from the drinks they’ve spent the last of the week’s wages on stumble along; past the ones who pull their hats low over their face as they alight from horse-drawn carriages.

They’re all going to the same places— in character, if not in extravagance.

People who haven’t ever set foot in this dimly lit neighbourhood often think these men are looking for a fairytale with the women they visit. And perhaps they are; but they still know what happens when the clock strikes midnight. They’re counting on it, in fact. Not one of them is willing to take the grime back to the lives they live under the sun.

(Never mind the ones who can’t leave.)

But that’s above.

Below, in the basement, is a woman who prefers the moon (like most people who are doing things they shouldn’t be); and a man who doesn’t really care either way.

Someone has made an attempt to make it look like an office; but the single folding chair, uneven table, bare floor, and the shelf that’s empty save for a single newspaper give the impression of a stage set— an approximation, rather than a real space. The only item of any character is the heavy, locked iron cabinet that’s pushed against the back wall.

The room’s two occupants have nothing interesting to look at, except each other.

Evie makes a mental note to have some books put on the shelves.

Theo Bauer shuffles nervously in the light of the single, bare bulb. The concrete under his shoes is scuffed and unfinished. “Do you think Thomas will be here soon?”

“Like you have somewhere to be.” Evie scoffs. “Shut up.”

She agitatedly picks at the flaking paint on her folding chair, peeling back small strips of grey. They fall from her red-tipped fingers; and Evie watches them fluttering to the ground, somewhere between ashes and snow. With the chill metal beneath pressing against the sides of her palms, she's reminded of another life; of an ornate-handled fire iron, and of coaxing flames out of glowing embers.

In that life, Evie had been Evelyn.

In that life, she'd scrubbed floors and washed clothes until her nails cracked and her fingers bled. Dust banished from furniture, only to turn into a cough in her own lungs. Bannisters polished to a shine that rivalled the mirrors; and mirrors polished to the point she found herself indulging a little more each time, in her fantasy of walking through them. She wished for a world where everything was the opposite of what it was.

Evie remembers Evelyn crying herself to sleep every night. Covers pulled up over her head, forcing herself to stay silent, not able to breathe because her nose was blocked up; and clearing it meant breathing in or breathing out, meant noise, meant the other maids hearing. And then everything would be even more complicated. In those moments, Evelyn had wished for a friend. Someone who was stronger than her, who could tell her it would be alright in a way that she could believe it. Someone like Evie.

And that was the problem, all that wishing. Nothing ever came from just wishing, because fairytales aren’t real.

Theo looks hurt. “You’re in a bad mood.”

“Do you think we’re friends, Bauer? Is that where you find the courage to speak to me like that?”

He grins impishly. “No, I just have nothing to lose.”

Evie glares at him. Theo Bauer was dangerous. Perhaps not in the way Thomas was— prone to bouts of unpredictable violence— but dangerous all the same. He had a way of rolling with the punches, and a mischievous air that invited you to try it with him. You wanted to trust him, and you wouldn’t realise until it was far too late that you never could come up with a reason why.

Evie coolly flicks out a piece of rolled-up paint from under her crimson nail. “Perhaps. But you’re not getting out of working for me. I know you don’t have the courage to end your own life, and I won’t do it for you.”

Theo was dangerous, but he didn’t know it. And Evie wouldn’t be the one to tell him. Every action of his was a reaction, innocent— almost childlike— in his lack of thought. Who else would dare shoot at Thomas, Eldian or otherwise?

It’s a shame, she thinks, that Theo couldn’t have put that charm of his to better use. The castles he could have built.

Theo gapes. “Now why would I want to do that?” There’s no mockery in his voice. He’s genuinely shocked.

Evie doesn’t answer. She only thinks that Evelyn was wrong to wish for a friend like her. No, that wasn’t quite right. Evelyn wasn’t wrong for wanting Evie, but she could never have convinced her that it would be alright, not in the way Theo could have. It would have been a lie.

Evie prefers truths.

There were three truths that separated Evie from Evelyn, and this was one of them— there was a way things would be for you, and no amount of wishing would change that or make it ‘alright’.

(So she’d changed who she was.)

The second was that everyone and everything had a price.

(The price for becoming Evie had been a few nights with the master, a handful of coins for rat poison, and ten kilograms of gold for the coroner.)

And the third, that people are selfish, without exception. They’re selfish in different ways, and sometimes it would complement your own selfishness in a way that fools you into thinking neither of you are.

(But that was a wish and nothing more.)

Theo, for instance, was the most selfish man Evie had ever seen.

Thomas may have been a piece of shit, but at least he knew it. Theo Bauer, on the other hand, was selfish like a child. Pure, and untempered.

There’s a high pitched, echoing creak as the flimsy metal door at the top of the concrete stairs swings open. A man steps onto the small landing. Evie watches him as comes down, confident and sure-footed despite the narrow steps and lack of railing.

“Where’s the money?” he asks, as soon as he’s downstairs. His voice echoes in he sparse space.

Evie draws out a stack of notes from inside her coat. “Not even going to tell me hello, Thomas?” She tosses it at him.

Thomas catches it with a single hand. “I’m not really in the mood for pleasantries. On account of the agony from the hole in my shoulder.” He sends a murderous look at Theo, as he begins to count the money.

Theo laughs nervously.

Thomas is a large man, broad-shouldered and tall. He’s dressed in a suit that he fills out well, and has his dark hair neatly combed back. Theo looks lankier and scruffier than usual, standing next to him. His sleeves fall slightly back as he thumbs through the notes, and the glint of an expensive-looking watch peeks out. The sliver of metal is dazzlingy golden even under the drab light.

He looks satisfied, and nods to himself as he tucks the money away. “I’ve got three more names for you,” he says as he takes a brown envelope out of his breast pocket.

Evie nods at Theo. His muscles are tense— he’s ready to bolt at a moment's notice, as he cautiously accepts the envelope from Thomas and hands it to Evie.

She doesn’t open it immediately. “Are these worth my time?”

“You’re running an extortion racket,” Thomas scoffs. “Anything is worth your time. Take what you get.”

“Watch your tone when you’re in my building,” Evie snaps.

“Or what?” Thomas asks, eyes darkening. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Evelyn.”

“It’s Evie,” she growls, the heat of anger blossoming in her chest.

Theo is watching the exchange like it’s a tennis match. “Come on, you two. We’re all friends here,” he ventures, with a nervous smile.

There’s silence as Thomas coolly regards him. “No, we’re not.” He turns on his heel, and makes his way back up the stairs, hand raised in a nonchalant wave. “I’ll be back next week.”

Evie’s eyes follow him as he leaves. Her pulse is still quick, her breaths fast and shallow. Evelyn. Would the girl ever die? Sometimes, Evie feels like it had all been a dream to begin with; a dream Evelyn is having with the covers pulled over her head, closed eyelids bathed in filtered moonlight.

The jam tastes sweeter than usual. It’s chill on your tongue, against the comforting warmth of fresh toast. You lean against the kitchenette and chew slowly; savouring the strawberry flavour.

You’ve got time.

A cool, early morning breeze blows through the open window next to you. It tickles the skin near your temples, where your hair is still damp from washing your face.

You don’t think anyone else on this floor has gotten up yet. The common room is deserted— no one’s jostling for the coffee pot, or frantically hopping themselves into their stockings. The misty morning sky is almost white, a blanket over the still-sleeping world. Traces of last night’s card games lie scattered across the table.

You weren’t there, of course. You were with him.

Galliard.

You cup your hands around your coffee mug, and inhale the aroma, feeling the steam wash over your face as you smile softly.

Galliard, with his kisses that were somehow blunt and careful at the same time; just like he was. With his golden-brown eyes; so gentle and sincere, the rest of the world had stopped mattering. You believed in that moment, that one day you would sit under the elm with him too— in a place where the shadows dancing across his face weren’t cast through the gaps in the blinds.

You press your fingers to your lips, and shiver as you remember every inch of his body pressed up against yours. How he covered your lips with his, again and again, increasingly desperate each time. It had been all you could do to breathe in the seconds between; but you would have let him do it for as long as he liked.

There wasn’t anything you would have denied him. Not then.

The thought makes your face warm to the tips of your ears.

You take a hasty sip of your drink, brows furrowed.

What is he doing right now? Is he thinking about you too?

The thought of having to wait for the sun to go down, when it’s hardly made its way up into the sky, makes your chest ache. But the idea of looking the other way if you saw him before, when your heart is this close to bursting, leaves you nauseous.

Fondness surges in your chest, and sours with nowhere to go. The hours to the evening stretch out endlessly before you. There’s a painful tightness in your throat as you drink, and you rub at your suddenly damp eyes.

(Is this what it meant to be lovesick?)

Despite what people seem to think about him, Porco doesn’t really break the rules.

He listens to his CO. He never stays out past curfew. His uniform is always spotless, his hair well within regulations. He doesn’t punch Marleyan soldiers in the face, no matter how much he wants to; not even when they start up with their ridiculously one-sided sparring matches.

And, despite what people think, it isn't something that’s ever been particularly hard for him. Yes, his life is mired in unfairness, a ridiculous amount of it, but he isn’t consumed by righteous anger. He— like every Eldian child— has been raised on the idea of consequences, and the bountiful amount of them that would be his reward for any momentary thrill or satisfaction. It only made sense to follow the rules.

Nothing about leaving you in that clinic had made any sense.

He’d stood at the threshold of the outside door, willing himself to step across the line, to follow the rules into a world where he wasn’t supposed to be by your side. Trying to tell himself that it would make sense in time; that he would be able to forget the way you looked at him with those pleading, hopeful eyes. That he could be happy with just the memory of your voice calling his name.

He’d stood there, and realised he couldn’t walk away a second time.

And then, he had brazenly broken the rules.

Tonight, he’s going to break them again.

But right now, it’s mid-afternoon. This far into the year, the days aren’t quite as warm; and the breeze that gently billows the curtains in Zeke’s room is pleasantly cool. There’s a map rolled out across the table, its corners weighed down with plates and teacups. Zeke leans back comfortably in his chair as he speaks. It could have been a chat among friends, if it weren’t for the confidential intelligence reports strewn in front of them.

Pieck points at the southern coast. “Tell the brass to increase naval patrols near Karifa. And not just around the port. The whole peninsula is vulnerable.”

“They’re more interested in watching Fort Helena,” Zeke replies. He takes a sip of his tea. “They still have their feathers ruffled from the last conflict.”

Pieck thoughtfully taps her chin. “Right. It could turn into a two-front situation.”

Porco’s not quite sure why Zeke invites anyone other than her to these briefings. It’s always her who has the smart things to say. As far as he’s concerned, he just wants someone to point him at the thing that needed destroying.

He’s finding it particularly difficult to sit in his seat today.

His thoughts keep turning to you, waiting for him; and it feels wrong to not be doing everything he can to go to you. It feels even worse to consider not thinking of you— to pretend he doesn’t care about you feels shameful.

So all he can do is sit there, resenting the way the sunlight reflects off the honeyed brown of his tea, and wishing he could share it with you.

“They still aren’t paying any attention to Paradis?” Reiner’s brows are knit. “It’s been over two years since—”

“It’s not a priority,” Zeke says curtly, not looking up from what he’s reading.

Porco holds back a snort. For all his bravado, Zeke was perpetually touchy about the island devils. Being cut to ribbons could do that to you, he supposed. He glances at Pieck, who doesn’t offer comment, and only gives Reiner a pointed look before examining another report. Reiner looks nervous. He always is, when Paradis comes up.

The tiny island on the map in front of Porco looks innocuous. It’s so small, it’s dwarfed by even a single one of Marley’s provinces.

He should loathe it, have the same dark look on his face as the other three, even if he’s the only shifter who’s never stepped foot on it. It’s why people hate Eldians. It’s where Marcel died.

But he has memories of it too. They’re not his, they belong to that woman— Ymir— but they’re so vivid, they feel like his own. Sometimes he even catches a faint thought at the back of his mind, a longing to go home.

It makes him worry about how many of his thoughts are really his.

Fucking Reiner, he thinks. Turning Marcel’s titan into a traitor.

He glares at Reiner, who blinks in surprise at the sudden aggression, and raises an eyebrow at him.

Porco ignores this, and waves one of the typewritten pages he's holding. “This says they’re expecting a hot conflict in the South within seven months. We’re supposed to be back in the Mid-East by then.”

“No need to worry about that,” Zeke says.

Everyone waits for him to elaborate.

Zeke smiles pleasantly. As if they really are just having a chat, and not discussing bloody warfare. “Ah, sorry. That really is a secret, but trust me, there won’t be too much going on at the same time.”

“You mean we’ll attack them first?” Porco says. “But then the Southern Alliance—”

“No,” Zeke says, still smiling. “Don’t worry about it.” The curtains behind him sway gently.

Porco feels uneasy. He’s not sure why. He’s long since had every survival instinct beaten out of him, with bombs and gunfire. He’s died and come back to life a dozen times over on the battlefield. War doesn’t scare him. Not anymore, not since he was twelve years old.

So why does he feel this dread in his stomach?

He doesn’t figure it out until much later, when he’s counting the minutes until he can see you again, and listening to Colt talking about Falco over dinner.

“He’s trying to hide it,” Colt says mournfully as he spoons potatoes into his mouth. They’re always on the menu. “But he was excited. Excited. About being sent to war.”

Outside, the sun is starting to set.

It’s a Saturday evening, and the energy in the hall is cheerful; excited for the coming day off, even if subdued from the exhaustion of the week. The long rows of wooden tables are almost completely occupied, but Colt gives off enough of a melancholy air that people to avoid the seats next to him and Porco.

“We were excited too, the first time,” Porco says, nonchalantly. “Don’t you remember? I didn’t even have a fucking titan, and I thought I was about to go blow enemy soldiers’ heads off left and right. Let him have this. He’ll understand soon.”

Colt chuckles half-heartedly. “Right, you thought you had such good aim. Pieck had to come save us after you gave away our position.”

Porco’s face warms in embarrassment. “No need to go down memory lane, Grice.”

Nevermind the dent to his adolescent ego from being saved by a girl (even if said girl was a hulking, four metre tall monster); the reminder that he was nothing on the battlefield without a titan had been far worse.

It had been less than a month after Marcel and the others left for Paradis, and Porco had desperately wanted to have something to show when they came back. He’d wanted to prove to them all that he wasn’t useless— that he was better than Reiner Braun. The best he did was surviving the shelling, and remembering to rub fresh dirt on his face to hide the tear tracks tattooed in the grime.

Even then, Porco recalls, Colt had had nothing but his baby brother on his mind.

There had been a photograph folded into his breast pocket, severely faded in the creases. It was of Colt, holding a fluffy haired little boy in his lap. He’d looked at it whenever he could; one hand pressing his helmet to his head, one clutching the picture, lips pursed so they wouldn’t quiver at every explosion. This is what he was here for, he told everyone who would listen. So this little boy didn’t ever have to be.

“I don't care what happens to me,” Colt says, aimlessly pushing his food around on his plate. “I mean, within reason. But if anything happened to Falco out there, I couldn't bear it.”

And that’s when he figures it out. Porco isn’t scared of war— he’s not capable of that anymore— he’s scared of losing you to it.

He thinks of the delicate shape of your body under his touch; of your soft voice, and how gently you speak, even when you’re trying to be firm. It seems absurd to picture you in the midst of violence. And yet you’d been there, impossibly kind and sweet, knee deep in his blood.

Porco knows you saved him that night. You told him it was Claire who stopped him from bleeding out; but Porco knows you were the one who held his hand through the night, the only one who shed tears for him.

You’d made him feel human, and it had made him want to live.

He knows now, that from the moment he'd opened his eyes in that tent and found you in a fitful sleep at his bedside, he was always going to spend the rest of his ten years paying you back.

“I understand,” Porco tells Colt, honestly.

Colt smiles gratefully at him. “I should get going. I have kitchen clean-up duty today.”

An idea strikes him. “Really? Could you do something for me then?”

When you tell Claire you can take care of the locking up by yourself from now on, she’s only a little conflicted.

“Are you really sure?” she asks again, pausing in the middle of touching up her makeup in the little mirror above the sink.

“It’s not a problem,” you assure her as you tidy up your desk. “You’ve got a longer commute now, after all.”

The clinic is lit up in the muted gold of dusk. The last rays of sun are shining in through the open windows. Claire’s face glows in a rectangle of light, cast through the half-closed blinds. Her lipstick is bright and red.

(It’s her usual colour, but everything has felt more today. Sugar is sweeter, and the reds are almost scarlet.)

“Too long,” she says, frowning. “We’re looking at new apartments. Something halfway between here and the Public Security office.” She sighs and looks at you in the mirror. “I miss walking back to the women’s quarters with you. The train is so boring.”

There’s something about the wistful way she says it, with that familiar scrunch in her eyebrows and pout on her lips, that makes you want to tell her; tell her about Galliard the way she tells you about Eric— because now you understand why she’s always looking for a reason to.

“I miss it too,” you say. “Did you find anything nice yet?”

Claire worries at some flyaway hairs on the crown of her head, illuminated in the direct light. “We’re actually going to see this one place near Gardenia Square today.”

“Gardenia Square!” you exclaim.

It’s one of the more expensive neighbourhoods in Liberio, built around a trendy shopping and business district near the port. You didn’t think it was somewhere that would be affordable on government salaries.

“It sounds too good to be true!” Claire closes her eyes, and holds up her hands, fingers crossed in an odd sort of prayer. “They did say near, not in. I just hope it’s not too close to the red light district.” Then she opens her eyes with a frown. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, it would just hurt the resale value.”

“How do you go up from a nice apartment in Gardenia Square?” you ask, amused. “Sorry, near.”

She doesn’t miss a beat. “A seafront villa in Odiha.”

Claire begins to powder her face. Even in the plain blue dress she has on, it’s so easy to imagine her walking along a sunny promenade; maybe stopping at a fashionable café to get a cupcake in a pastel wrapper. Perhaps some tea in a dainty cup.

You watch as she gathers her things into her purse. Galliard’s name stays on the tip of your tongue all the while.

“Good luck with the apartment, Claire,” you tell her, as she heads out the door. “I hope you’ll like it.”

“Thanks, honey. Get home safe.”

You hear the click of her heels going down the wooden floor outside, and the sound of the door opening and closing.

And then, you only have the ticking of the clock and the rustling elm outside for company.

You sit yourself on the edge of one of the beds for only a handful of seconds, watching the long, thin shadows cast by its legs, fidgeting all the while; before the silence becomes unbearable and the anticipation you’ve been pushing down all day swells up to fill it.

The sink needs cleaning, you decide, getting back on your feet.

You hum to yourself as you wipe down the steel basin, noticing the pleasant hints of lemon in the cleaning spray more than the sting of alcohol. It’s not nearly dirty enough to occupy you for long, so you’re soon rinsing it off.

You regard yourself in the mirror as you dry your hands. The day is evident in your slightly wrinkled blouse with its creases accentuated by shadows; and in your lipstick, slightly faded in the middle.

(Really, you looked far worse yesterday, after spending hours confused and worrying; and Galliard certainly hadn’t seemed to mind.)

There’s not much you can do about the blouse. You settle for touching up your makeup as best as you can. You’re fully aware of the rapidly setting sun behind you— already half-hidden behind the high compound walls— and how your efforts will soon be unnoticeable.

(But you still do it; because when you imagine him thinking you’re pretty, your heart flutters and you want to giggle like a schoolgirl.)

Claire closed the blinds for you before she left; and now you walk over and adjust them slightly, letting a little more light shine through. Bands patterned with the silhouettes of elm leaves print themselves across the plain walls; adorning them like wallpaper.

You hook a finger over one of the slats and pull it down to peek outside. There’s no one there, of course; but you still feel a prick of nervousness.

(You hope he comes soon. It’s lonely.)

The silence is getting to you, you think. You’re not quite sure what you could possibly clean next, so you try to distract yourself by counting the sounds.

The clock ticks steadily, echoing faintly. A drop of water falls from the faucet, and hits the steel below with a plink. Wind blows through the elm.

The hinges on the front door creak.

You hold your breath, listening closely as footsteps come up the hallway— they’re blunt and heavy, not the sharp, quick clicks of Claire’s heels.

(He came.)

The knob turns, and the door swings open slowly.

(Just like he promised.)

Galliard pokes his head in cautiously. He runs his eyes across the room to confirm that you’re alone. And then, he greets you with a grin, face softly shadowed in the fading light. He couldn’t have looked better in a painting.

You close the distance to the door with rapid steps, almost running. Just before you crash into him, you’re worried— for a split second— that you’re about to knock him off his feet; but he easily catches you, and lifts you off your feet to spin you around as you squeal.

(He came back to me.)

You kiss his lips, not breaking away even when he lets you down, staying risen on your toes.

“Woah,” he says, when you finally part. He pulls you in a little closer, rubbing circles into your hip with his thumb. “Did you miss me that much?”

You’re suddenly embarrassed, and very aware of his touch. You have to hide your face in his jacket. “I did,” you say, voice muffled. He smells like soap.

Galliard laughs again. The sound vibrates in his chest. “You really don’t believe in playing hard to get.”

“I don’t.”

Sometimes, it feels like you’ve spent half your life being timid and unsure; wishing there was a book you could check the back of for the right answers, to make those elusive good choices. Maybe that book would tell you that it’s unbecoming to be so forward. Maybe it’s true. You don’t know.

(You’re scared to admit it, but you don’t care either.)

What you do know is that kissing him makes your toes curl in your socks, and has your heart feeling far too big for your chest. How could anyone think it’s not right, when he kisses you back like that, so unhesitant?

He gives you a squeeze. “I brought you something,” he says.

You take a step back, so you can look at him. “You did?”

The adoration on his face makes your heart skip a beat. Oh, how could anyone be this handsome, this perfect?

“Close your eyes,” he says.

You don’t hesitate to do what he asks, and hold out your hands expectantly. There’s a pause, and then you feel him shift, taking something out of his pocket. There’s a small weight in your palms.

You crack open your eyes. In the dim light, it’s hard to read the wrapper on the thing in your hands, even though the letters are in a thick block-print. “Chocolate? You brought me chocolate!”

It’s just a plain old bar of it, the kind you could buy at any store; but it feels like the best gift anyone’s ever gotten you. He’d thought of you. He’d thought about seeing you again, and he’d wanted to make you happy when he did. It’s just a plain old bar of chocolate, but it feels enormous, carrying the weight of this thing, this precious secret between you.

You wordlessly begin to unwrap it, not trusting yourself to speak.

Now he’s the one who looks embarrassed. “I know it isn’t all that special.” He self consciously rubs the back of his head. “I swear I’ll get you better things, I just need a little time—”

You cut him off by pressing a piece of chocolate to his mouth. “I love it, thank you. Do you want to share with me?”

He stops mid-sentence, eyes wide. Your fingers brush his lips as you place it on his tongue. When you try to move your hand back, he grips your wrist for a moment— just long enough to kiss your fingertips. You giggle at the mischievous glint in his eyes, even though the action sends a shiver down your spine.

You hold his gaze— warm, soft— as you break off a piece for yourself. It’s only when you bite down that you notice what’s wrong.

“Bitter!”

Galliard looks distressed, and scrapes his own tongue across his teeth, trying to get the taste out.

You hold the wrapper up into the light. “Galliard, this is cooking chocolate. There's no sugar in it!”

You look at him.

He looks at you.

Then you burst out laughing.

“I— I'm sorry.” He sounds flustered. “I should have read the label closer—”

You reach up to cup his cheek. “I'll make something with it. We can eat it together.”

“I'd… like that.” His voice is a little raspy. Then he looks up at the ceiling, eyebrows furrowed and eyes closed, like he’s collecting himself. “Hey, could you… use my name?”

Before you can open your mouth, a gust of wind blows outside, making the branches on the tree rustle. You’re struck with the irrational thought that it sounds like they’re whispering. Gossiping amongst themselves about you and him.

You instinctively glance over your shoulder to check the window, even though you know no one can see in.

He sees how nervous you are. “Here, come with me.”

It’s scary, being led to the window. But he has your hand in his, and that reassuring warmth makes you a little braver. He sits right below the sill, on the bare wooden floor. He pats the space beside him.

When you join him, he puts an arm around your shoulder and pulls you against his chest. “Is this okay?”

It’s more than okay. Even though the window is right above you, you feel shielded. Safe. The elm leaves aren’t whispering about you anymore. They’re friends there to tell you if anyone dares intrude; warning you with the shadows they cast on the floor, where your legs are stretched out next to his.

“Yes. Thank you—” You take a breath. “— Porco.”

You hear him exhale, but you’re too shy to look at him, keeping your eyes trained on your hands in your lap. Your fingertips tingle. All you can focus on is his arm across your shoulder, so firm and strong.

Porco softly says your name. Then he takes your chin, tilting your face up to his. There’s a pause. Both of you hold your breath.

And then, he kisses you.

Your eyes flutter closed. It isn’t intense like last night— it’s gentle, and soft; as if he’s asking you for permission every time. His thumb brushes over your cheekbone. Your hands find the back of his head, fingers combing through his hair.

You lose track of the minutes going by. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is him, finally next to you. Tears prick at the back of your eyelids as you smile against his lips. You’ve been waiting for so long.

Porco pulls away first. His eyes are still closed, head leaned against the wall. Your breath comes in soft pants, and you can’t help but think that it suits him to have his hair like that, all dishevelled; instead of in its usual severe, neat style.

(The wind blows again, but this time, you’re not afraid. No one can see. There’s no one else in this world below the window, except you and him.)

“Sort of feels like we’re in the trenches, doesn’t it?” you say playfully, resting your shoulder on the wall.

Porco’s eyes snap open. “Don’t say that.”

Your heartbeat quickens, worried you said something wrong. “I— I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to trivialise—”

“No,” he cuts you off. “Don’t apologise. It’s not that. I just— I don’t want to think about you being anywhere near there.” He looks down, and puts his hand over yours. “I want you to be safe.”

I want you to be safe too, you want to tell him.

But you know he can’t do that for you, and you won’t cause him the pain of having to say no, so you don’t say anything at all; and only curl closer into his side. You feel him kiss the top of your head.

“We didn’t get to talk last night,” he says, after a brief silence. “About how we’re going to see each other. Are you here every evening?”

You nod a yes. “Except Thursday and Sunday. I have an evening shift at the hospital on Sundays.”

“You won’t be here tomorrow?” He sounds disappointed.

“I usually leave after lunch.”

You think he hears the sadness in your voice. “That’s okay,” he says soothingly, “I’ll figure out a way to see you tomorrow, I promise. How was your day?”

“Good. It wasn’t very busy.” You play with the hem of his jacket. “It was a little boring, actually. I wish I had something interesting to tell you.”

“I’d listen to you reading out the protocol handbook,” he says. He sounds like he means it. “Do you stay here all day?”

“Mostly. It’s not so bad when the kids are around, I can see them training from the window. And sometimes they sit under the tree during their breaks. They’re in the mountains with their sergeant, you know.”

You don’t have to look at his face to picture his sneer. “That ass who didn’t care when Grice’s brother fainted in the heat?”

“Him. But I’ve been making sure they know how to take care of themselves. They’ll be fine.”

“Thanks. For looking out for them.”

You want to tell him you see Julie’s eyes in each of theirs. But you hesitate— her memory feels far too important to be mentioned in passing. “How was your day?”

“Zeke had us come to him for a briefing. There’s trouble everywhere, apparently.”

You swallow. “Are we going back out there soon?”

The memory of him choking on his own blood still haunts you. It feels like a lifetime ago. He may be whole and healthy now; but it’s barely been a week. You don’t want to see him like that ever again. You couldn’t bear it. Even if you know he could survive it, and worse— you couldn’t bear it.

“You can’t worry about that, babe,” he sighs. “You won’t ever have any peace. You don’t ever have to be scared out there, okay? I won’t let anyone get through to hurt you.” He runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “Let’s not talk about this.”

“Okay,” you say quietly. You don’t tell him it’s not you you’re worried about.

There’s another comfortable silence, broken when the building settles. You’re used to it, and barely notice, but Porco shifts his weight onto his free hand to look up at the ceiling.

“What’s upstairs?” he asks, eyes wary. “I’ve never been up there.”

The small distance he’s inadvertently put between your bodies bothers you immensely; and you don’t feel at peace until you move closer. “Nothing except some old medical files no one cares about.”

“You’ve been there?”

“Someone from admin came by and needed me to unlock the door for him, a few months ago. I think I have the only key. It looks like it used to be another floor of the clinic,” you say, recalling the dismantled bed-frames pushed against the walls. “We could go there, but it’s just really dusty now.”

Porco hums thoughtfully. “Some other time. I don’t want to get up yet.” He takes your hand, giving it a squeeze. “I’ve been wanting to hold you like this all day.”

You giggle. “I told my roommate I had to organise some files, and that I’d be later than usual. How long can you stay?”

He scoffs. “Reiner wouldn’t notice even if I went missing. He’s an idiot. When we were with Zeke today—”

You stifle a laugh, and lay your head on his chest. You listen to his heartbeat while he tells you about the rest of his day, and exactly why Reiner Braun is an irredeemable idiot.

He feels so solid; so real. The rest of the day feels like a dream, vague and fading at the edges. Maybe that’s why you haven’t been worried about right answers and good choices with him, you think as you play with the zipper on his jacket.

Dreams don’t have to make sense like that. They just need to make you happy.

(All your life, you’ve been told that there are right answers, right choices. Especially when it came to the boundary between Eldians and Marleyans. What are the rules when you’re both on the same side of that line?)

By the next afternoon, Porco decides it would be better if he didn’t take a shotgun to his head.

There’s only two things stopping him.

One— that there were only so many times he could do that before someone either got suspicious, or deemed him unfit for duty; and then asked him to go ahead and put that other foot into his grave.

And, more importantly, two— the sight of it would probably make you cry.

He’s lying in his bed, arms crossed under his head and staring at the ceiling, where the paint is peeling at the corners; trying to think of another way to see you at the hospital— one that didn’t involve blowing his own skull off, but he’s a shifter and simple cuts and bruises just won’t do— when Colt knocks on his door and asks him if he has any plans.

(Sort of did, but they’re cancelled, he thinks. Cleaning up would have been a bitch.)

“You want to take me on a date or something?”

“Very funny,” Colt says, frowning at him. “Where’s Reiner?”

Porco sits up on his elbows. “Hell if I know. Why?”

“The kids are back from their final assessment. I thought he’d want to see Gabi. Are you coming?”

“You want me to?”

“Sure I do,” Colt says, as if it’s obvious. “You’re good with them. They’ll like it if you’re there.”

Porco remembers his final assessment. Two days of crawling through mud, and running uphill; rain soaking through his shoes and threatening to meld his socks into his skin. The food had been cold and tasteless, spooned out straight from the can— there was no lighting a fire in that deluge. He can still remember the slimy beans going down his throat. It had been years before he could eat them again.

He’d developed the worst fever of his life, and damn near fainted when he’d dragged himself over that last finish line.

(He’s fairly certain his sergeant would have just left him there if he had— for the bears to find.)

He also remembers everyone being taken to the nurse after coming back. The woman at the time had been close to retirement, and had really needed a refresher course on finding veins. Or maybe better glasses.

Porco thinks of the half-dozen bruises he’d had blooming across his upper arm; and then of you, towelling off Falco’s face on that summer day.

These kids didn’t know how good they had it.

Colt— good old, reliable Colt— looks expectantly at him. Porco can’t believe his luck.

“Yeah,” he says. “I'll come.”

Colt has a way of showing up exactly where he’s needed, even if it isn’t necessarily the best place for him to be. Porco figures out this pattern when they’re both fourteen years old, and hidden behind a mountain of sandbags destined for the trenches.

A few years later, when he's taller, Porco will see Gabi and Falco sitting in the same spot— yes, the same, it's always the same, nothing changes no matter how much he fights— and he'll be struck with the thought that the stacked up sandbags don't look quite as high as a mountain anymore.

(And then he'll remember he never grew quite as tall as Colt, and be annoyed about it.)

But that's later, in a time where he understands what Colt was clumsily trying to tell him.

Right now, he's kneeling on the sandy soil, dabbing at the fresh gash on Colt's forehead— Porco thinks he might just be the only soldier he knows who can get himself injured before even a single bullet has been fired.

The coppery scent of his blood cuts through the dry eastern air. Porco swears he can taste the salt of it on his tongue— or maybe that's from the sweat beading across his upper lip, evaporating as fast as it forms.

It’s hot. And getting hotter, as the sun inches upwards. He was irritated enough, with the way his uniform is sticking to his back and how each breath feels like he’s baking his lungs, before Colt decided to play at being a hero.

“Hell, Grice. Did you want to die before the enemy even finished lacing their boots? There’s easier ways to do that.”

Colt winces. “It was three on one. I couldn’t just leave.”

“It’s not like they would have killed him. They were all Marleyan. You, on the other hand—”

“It was three on one,” Colt repeats, a little more subdued. “It wasn’t fair.”

“Fair,” Porco snorts. “Listen to you.”

Colt snatches the handkerchief away, and presses it against the wound himself. Red blooms through the white. “Don't you have anywhere to be?” he asks, exasperated. “You’d think they’d find something for you to do.”

Marley is stretched thin. The Cart has been in the South, near Karifa, for months now; and the Beast has been sent overseas to the colonised territories. With the War Hammer set on being a drain on public finances, and the rest on the Paradis mission, there are no titans left to guard the border in the East.

Porco doesn’t know why anyone bothers fighting over this piece of land, barren and burnt from decades of warfare. In the distance, he can see the silhouettes of the tree stumps on the pitted and scarred terrain. They look like they’ve been speared into the landscape, charred so black it’s as if they didn’t once grow lush and green— as if they had always been born from an act of violence.

“Not until the trucks get here.” Porco settles down next to Colt, shoulders bumping. “You still dizzy?”

He shakes his head. “Sorry I bled on your handkerchief.”

Porco raises an eyebrow. “Why’re you sorry about that? It’s just a rag.”

Colt looks shocked. “But it’s all lacey. I thought it was…” He blushes and looks away. “... your girlfriend’s or something.”

Porco doesn’t know why he’s acting all embarrassed, but the suddenly awkward air has his face warming too. “I don’t have… one of those,” he mumbles.

“This is yours?”

“No!” Porco frustratedly runs a hand down his face. “A girl gave it to me, but she isn’t my girlfriend. Helos, she’s trying though.”

Colt unfolds the fine cotton and holds it up, arms outstretched. It’s good quality, and the (now bloodied) lace around the edges is delicately handwoven. “I think you’re the only guy I know who would sound irritated about a girl liking you.”

“Emma doesn’t like me,” Porco says, rolling his eyes. “She didn’t give a shit about me until Marcel got the Jaw last year. What she likes is the idea of marrying me in two years and getting benefits when I die.”

There was no way out of the internment zone. Everyone knew that. There weren’t even any pipe dreams to indulge in. No, becoming an honorary Marleyan, or a part of their families, and being able to look over the wire fences instead of through them— that was as good as it got. It made sense for Emma to plan ahead a little.

Porco knows he’s receiving Marcel’s share of attention too. Despite his best efforts, he’s the consolation prize, and it makes him bitter enough to see Emma’s true intentions. Her and the other half dozen girls vying for his attention.

(It’s the reason he wears his yellow candidate armband rather than the red one being Marcel’s brother grants him.)

He draws aimless patterns in the dirt with his index finger. “I told her I wasn’t interested, but she gave that to me anyway at the station.”

“And you kept it.”

“Fucking good thing I did too, isn’t it?” Porco grumbles. “Or you would have bled all over your uniform. Being reprimanded for that is the last thing you need. What is with you being in the wrong place all the time?”

“All the time?” Colt repeats, offended.

“All the fucking time. Like when that PSA officer thought you were one of those kids he was chasing down for stealing. They got away because he stopped to question you. You almost got arrested.”

“That was months ago!” Colt protests.

“How about last week when you took that lieutenant’s wife down to his office while he was in the middle of cheating on her?” Porco snaps his fingers. “Hang on, I heard some of the Marleyan soldiers talking about her getting this real big divorce settlement. So it’s the wrong place for you, but it’s the right place for everyone else. You’re a walking good luck charm, Grice!” He laughs hard at his own joke.

Colt does not look impressed. “Shut up, Galliard.”

Porco wipes away a tear. “You were good luck for that kid they were beating up too. Let him escape. Man, he looked like a snitch. They’re so fucked.”

With the army being spread out, even the Marleyan troops who usually sat back and let the Eldians eat bullets for them had started needing to pull their weight. Somewhere in between getting off the train at the end of the line, and being told they’d have to spend the night digging trenches, they’d started having uncomfortable thoughts about their mortality.

And then, like good little Marleyan boys, they’d decided to deal with that discomfort through casual violence— even if it was against one of their own.

Colt should have just ignored it, when he found those three older soldiers kicking one of the newer recruits around behind the warehouses. But Porco has known him for four years now, and they’ve been something approaching friends for the last one, so it doesn’t surprise him that he didn’t.

“Won’t you get in trouble too?” Colt asks worriedly. “I think you broke that tall one’s glasses when you punched him.”

Porco curls and uncurls his fist. His knuckles are cut up, from where they hit the thin wire frames. “Bastard had it coming after kicking you in the head.”

“My knight in shining armour,” Colt says sarcastically. He blushes again when Porco gives him an odd look. “Forget it. I just remembered it from one of Falco’s storybooks.”

“He still likes fairytales?” Porco is amused. “Good for him.”

Colt’s eyes narrow. “What do you mean?”

Porco holds his hands up defensively. “It’s not an insult, Grice. Good for him, still being able to enjoy that idealistic crap.”

“You’re one to talk,” Colt scoffs. “You still want to be a Warrior.” His eyes widen immediately after he says it. “Fuck. Galliard—”

“The fuck does that mean?” Porco asks furiously. “You want to be a Warrior too.”

Colt licks his lips, choosing his words carefully. “It’s different.”

“How’s it different? Are you saying you don’t think I’m good enough—”

Colt looks at the sky and mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like a ‘not this again’, but he holds up a hand before Porco can tell him to say it to his face. “No, I don’t think you’re not good enough. We passed the same tests. It’s different, because Marcel is already a Warrior. You’re not getting anything out of it.”

“I’m going to prove myself, and get the honour of—”

“There you go again, honour,” He looks frustrated. “What’s so honourable about trading your life in and getting thirteen years back like it’s spare change?”

“That’s—”

“There’s no honour in any of this.” Colt leans closer with every word. “Haven’t you ever thought about how they don’t let orphans join the program? Isn’t that weird? Why do they bother asking for applications and having parents sign waivers, when they could just pluck some kids nobody cares about out of a state orphanage?”

“Colt—”

He barrels on. “It’s because they need a family to threaten, to control whoever has the titan. Because they don’t trust you to not turn on them.”

Porco only watches as the other boy leans back against the sandbags, throwing his forearm over his eyes to shield them from the sun.

“I bet your brother was happy you didn’t get a titan.”

It's always been like that with him, now that Porco thinks about it.

Whenever Falco is involved, Colt Grice (trained soldier) dissolves— as immediately and as softly as powdered sugar in warm milk— into Colt Grice (big brother). Sometimes this manifests in a flash of anger across his face; like that day at the eastern border. Mostly it’s in dopey smiles, like when he’s telling Porco how Falco aced all his tests that term.

Today, it’s in the nervous energy in his hands. It’s almost imperceptible— the soldier is still fighting to maintain discipline— but Porco knows it when he sees it.

They're in the clinic. Colt is in the chair next to him; sitting ramrod-straight. He's always sitting like that. Porco has often joked that it's like he thinks Magath will turn up at his dinner table and reprimand him for slouching.

(Porco used to sit on chairs the wrong way around, just to make a point, but he's grown out of that.)

The smell of antiseptic stings his nose as you open the bottle again, and tip a few drops onto a cotton ball. He watches you help Falco roll his sleeve up his forearm.

It feels strange to see you in the day; where there's no shadows to shroud the both of you, no darkness to hide behind. The sunlight threatens to lay the secret bare, each time he shares a fleeting glance with you across the room.

(Somehow, those moments feel far more illicit than the kisses in the dark.)

You instruct Falco to make a fist, and wipe the skin near the crook of his elbow. He and the other three are sporting their new armbands. The yellow fabric is bright and distractingly clean compared to their dirt stained uniforms.

Porco can see the family resemblance— he’s seen Colt cautiously eyeing Marleyans with knives the same way Falco’s looking at the needles laid out on the table. It’s there in that nervous smile, and that faint— yet distinct— rise in pitch on the last syllable when he insists he’s alright.

He glances to his side, and sees Colt half raise his hand at the wrist— as if he wants to reach out to Falco— but he settles for drumming his fingers across his thighs. He doesn’t need to worry, Porco thinks. You’ll take care of Falco.

The younger Grice tears his eyes away from the needles when you pick one up, but Porco keeps looking at your hands as you assemble the syringe. There’s something elegant in the way your fingers move; and all he can think about is how they looked when you were fiddling with the hem of his jacket last night, and how nice it felt to hold your hand.

“Woah, Zofia!” Gabi suddenly exclaims, from near the glass slides on the counter. “Your blood’s weird!”

Zofia is panicked. “W-what?”

“Yeah, look. Three of your spots did the lumpy thing.”

She elbows Gabi aside to frantically inspect them herself. “Well, none of Udo’s did anything. That's weirder!”

Udo peeks over their heads. “You guys are so dumb. That's just how the test works. Zofia is AB-positive and I'm O-negative. And it’s called coagulation.”

Gabi simultaneously looks impressed with him, and like she wants to shove him. Colt abruptly stands up to cross the room and get between them, before she can decide which to go with.

(Porco has a vivid vision of her picking the latter, and accidentally getting Colt instead. It seemed like something that could happen to him. He’ll tell you all about Colt’s stupendously bad luck later, he decides.)

You glance over your shoulder at them with an amused smile as you straighten up. “That’s right, Udo.”

“It’s done?” Falco asks, shocked, looking at the now crimson tube in your hands. “I didn’t feel anything!”

“I’m very good at this,” you tell him with a wink.

(Porco can't argue with that.)

The comment makes Falco blush and drop his eyes down to his lap, and the others are distracted by Udo explaining how blood typing worked; so no one notices when your eyes meet Porco's across the room once again. His breath hitches. You give him that shy smile of yours— the one that's just for him— and all he wants is to take your hand and run away where no one else can see.

The spell is broken when Gabi calls out to you, and asks when you think their dog tags will be issued.

“Oh— I don't know, actually.” You look startled, just for a second, before composing yourself. “They don't take very long to make, though. I suppose it depends on your sergeant handing these records in.”

Porco scowls at the mention of Laurent, who had left not thirty minutes ago, after repeatedly warning you to be ‘careful, with all these devils in one place’.

“I'd stay,” he’d said, lip curled in disgust, “but I've been exposed to nothing but Eldian stench for two days, I don't need any more.”

That’s the best you can come up with? Porco remembers thinking. That I smell? At least insult my mother, you bastard.

“Mine took about a week,” Colt offers helpfully. “What about you, Galliard?”

“A week sounds right,” he replies nonchalantly.

Porco doesn't wear his dog tags anymore— if he died, people would know. But when Marley had extended him the honour of becoming a Warrior, they'd done the equivalent of hanging a dog collar around his neck anyway. There had been a lot of pretty, poetic words about the Jaw being returned and his dedication to the country; but what they’d done was drape a eulogy around his neck, and call it a privilege.

And if someone were to flip over that death sentence resting on his throat, they would probably see the words no commitments scratched into the back.

(At least, that’s what people thought.)

Porco’s not a bad looking guy; and there’s enough people looking to have a fun time with one of the admired, coveted Warriors that he’s never had trouble finding someone to warm his bed.

Well, it’s never his bed.

It’s usually theirs. Occasionally, it’s one in the rooms above the bar he frequents. One time, it had been in the men’s bathroom.

(That one was unexpectedly fun.)

It’s just sex.

No one expects anything more from him. There aren't any more Emmas chasing after him, not after almost a decade of turning them all down.

Porco doesn’t have complaints about these arrangements— it feels damn good, and it’s great for his ego when someone tells him that they like what he’s doing to them. When it’s over, maybe they lie next to him for a bit, and then they get up and leave, or ask him to leave. It never bothers him. Why would it?

No commitments, as advertised.

(What was there to commit to, with a man who already had a date of death stamped across his file?)

It’s not what he wants with you.

Porco isn’t scared of you leaving. He knows you won’t. But he needs to do this right— take it slow, and make sure you want it too. You deserve better than he can ever give you, but he can at least make sure your first time with him is something special; and isn’t just him fucking you on the floor where you work.

It’s difficult, because you seem to trust him so much; and close your eyes if he asks you to, without hesitation.

It’s difficult, because when you say his name or smile at him all shy, it goes straight to his heart; and when you look at him from under your lashes, breathless after a kiss, it goes straight to his dick.

It’s difficult, because he isn’t sure what special looks like.

It’s difficult, because every moment with you feels special anyway.

He’s greedy, he thinks. He wants to have as many of those moments as he can.

So when Gabi starts bragging about coming first in all the foot races save for one (Porco idly wonders which one of them managed to beat her), and the clinic visit is drawing to a close, the words are coming out of his mouth before he's even finished thinking them through.

“Hey,” he says, slinging an arm over Colt’s shoulder. “It sounds like you guys all did great. That deserves a treat.”

“A treat?” all of them— including Colt— chorus.

Behind them, he sees you pause filling out paperwork at your desk, and look up curiously.

“How does ice cream sound?”

Their eyes light up, but Porco's not done yet.

“Ice cream at the park downtown. Let's take those new armbands out for a spin.”

There's a few seconds where the children make an admirable effort to stay calm, be the newly minted soldiers they are; but then Gabi lets out a squeal like a tea kettle— in both tone and character— and then the rest of them, already practically vibrating in place, can't hold back either.

“Don't make a ruckus!” Colt casts a disapproving look at them. “You're bothering the nurse.”

“Oh, I like it when it's lively,” you say good-naturedly. “I hope you all have fun.”

(Now or never.)

“Do you want to come with us?”

In the corner of his vision, he can see Colt raise an eyebrow at him. But he can’t think about that right now. Not when you’re looking straight at him like that, with your eyes wide in shock.

He can feel his heart hammering in his chest, his brain finally catching up with his tongue. Porco thinks the world should have fallen silent for this. It should have left space for the question to echo, because what he'd just asked you is, will you take a risk for me?

(As it was, the world did not fall silent; and in fact offered him Udo blowing a raspberry at Gabi in the background.)

It feels like minutes before you answer; even though he can see the seconds ticking away on the clock behind you.

“The park… near the hospital?” you ask slowly, carefully; mouth oddly flat.

It's a stretch. The hospital is three blocks away. “Yes,” he says, anyway. “I never thanked you for— for everything.” He forces his voice to stay steady.

You look back down at your papers, and start adding your signature to the bottom of the sheets. “I do have a shift there this afternoon. Alright. Give me ten minutes.”

(Yes, I will, you answer him.)

Porco’s glad he’s still got his arm slung over Colt’s shoulder, because it’s the only thing reminding him he’s not alone with you in here; even if you’re all he can look at.

please like/reblog/reply on this part too if you enjoyed!! you can find the second half of the chapter here 💖

[your-sweet-cookies]

How to date Niragi guide for dummies - 15 easy steps to tame your local neighborhood sexy sniper masochist! (meme post)

(A/N: Please note that this post is meant only for satire and ironic parody comedic purposes, so take it as is. No hate intended towards anyone. <3)

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Are you perhaps one of those very sad, depressed and unlucky Niragi stans who, for some odd reason, can't seem to make this man bathe an eye at you or even spit in your direction, no matter how hard you try? If yes, then you've come to the right place that can help solve all your life's problems!

Hello and welcome to the one and only "How to Date Niragi" guide for idiots dummies, your number #1 starter pack essential for those who want to catch their own Niragi, but are still unsure about how to do it! Our researchers say that if you follow this guide, your chances at getting laid and secure a (somewhat) healthy relationship with the sexy beast of the Borderlands, the one and only Niragi Suguru, will increase by 75%, since the method has proven very effective with a 100% success rate in 3 out of 4 cases!

So now that we've got that out of the way, before we get to the "bread and butter" of our 'scientific' paper, let's start with what you'll need to have in your resources pack, in order for you to make sure that your success rate will grow to 100%:

unresolved childhood traumas (preferably a very traumatic experience with bullying) - Nothing says 'true love' better than two people who'd been through the same amount of shit and can understand each other better than anyone, so the more you'll have in common with Niragi, the higher your chances at making him yours! since you'll know what the f*ck not to ever bring up in your conversations and have the best knowledge for showing him the moral support he so desperately needs, but refuses to admit he wants! So yeah, the more unresolved traumas you have, the better, especially if they revolve around bullying and parental neglect! Also, if these traumas left you slightly unhinged, props to you!👍

a very morbid and unhealthy curiosity - Being curious to scoop about everything and anything about your obsession crush will come in handy when pursuing Niragi, because the more things you'll know or want to know about him, the more Niragi will know how important his person is in your life, which will flatter his narcissistic and possessive ego.

lack of self-awareness and a low as f*ck self-esteem- Niragi looooves his girls all vulnerable and obedient, so the more you are willing to accept and take from him in your relationship, the better! He's a very controlling man, so you also should be prepared to give up on your independence and prsonal life! And don't forget that romancing Niragi also implies pledging complete devotion and loyalty to Niragi and Niragi only to the point you'd give up your life for him!

God tier level flattery skills - As mentioned before, Niragi is a very egocentric and narcissistic man, so if you want to get his attention, you better start working on those complimenting skills, sistah! If you already are a writer or poet, then you are on the right path! Shower this man in compliments, treat him as a God, impress him with the way you word yourself! It also helps if you have your way with words when it comes to manipulating persuading your Niragi into loving you.

a good intelligence - Niragi is a very smart man, just as much as he's handsome, so it's gonna come in handy if you are a clever little cookie too! Show him that he can find a good ally in you, someone he can trust and lean on as a partner too, not only to use you as his personal sex toy. It might seem a bit contradictory to the point about having a lack of self-awareness, since smart people would normally stay away from a clearly toxic and abusive relationship like the one you are about to enter, but being a helpless case of lovestruck idiot doesn't mean you can't also be a book smart one!

obsessive and manic tendencies - While Niragi is a possessive and controlling man himself, he'll find it attractive if you are the very jealous and possessive type yourself. He likes his 'kittens clawed', if you know what I mean. Don't ever dare accuse him of jealousy/cheating, but if he'll see you going on killing sprees to take down the b*tches threatening to steal your man, it'll get him hard.

good cooking skills - A man's heart goes always through his stomach, so bonus points if you know how to cook.

good manipulation skills - We'll talk about these later, but trust me, the more deceiving you are, the better!

You done taking notes on what you have and what you're still to acquire in order to complete your perfect resources pack? Perfect! Let's move on now to what you came here for in the first place: the important things to remember and follow if you want the taming process to go as planned!

1. DON'T seem too impatient! - One of the biggest turn offs for a Niragi is when he's being approached by a d*ck starved groupie that makes it obvious she/he/they want(s) him to f*ck her/his/their brains out! So be subtle, approach your Niragi the same way a cat stalks its prey: observe from afar, make your way slowly towards your target and then... Strike! Try making it seem as if you approaching him was a mere coincidence, a simple curiosity of the moment due to the fact that his interesting and alluring presence and vibe of mystery caught your eye. You are the mastermind in this game of 'cat and mouse', so keep your gosh darn composure and lay your pieces carefully!

If you already have deep feelings for him, don't let it show, try to make it seem as if this is the first time you've ever met him and you've just felt like striking a conversation with a random stranger to ease your night out. You can also point out the fact that you've heard various rumors about him, to spike his curiosity, and then note that you don't really believe them and would like to find out for yourself if they're true. This will also give you the daring air of a challenge in Niragi's eyes since he's used to people fearing him, so a little innocent 'lamb' like yourself being unafraid of the 'big bad wolf' will sure seem amusing and worth exploring. And always, but always, have that gentle sweet air of innocence! Let him think he has the upper hand in this game and that he is the one manipulating you forward.

Tips of ways in which to start a conversation with your Niragi: if you are a newcomer to the Beach, ask him to be the one to introduce you to the place, bring up the fact that you've heard how important of a member of The Beach he is and that you admire his imposing and confident demeanor and that's why you want HIM specifically to be your guide; another method would be inviting him for a drink to start up a conversation, since incentives work most of the time; partner up with him for the night's game and show him how valuable you are in order to spike his interest in you so maybe he'll come seek you afterwards OR play the dumb little kitten route and rely on him to feed his ego that he's the best and strongest out there; lastly, if you approach him in the real world, try again to be subtle, go for a mundane subject, that might interest him even if just a little, ask him if a rumor about him is true to make him want to talk to you to clear it up and find out where it started from (this kind of leaves a mark in his memory to help him remember who the f*ck you are the next time you come seek him) or apply again the first strategy of inviting him out for something (but you might need to have done some previous small talk on random crap that kept him somewhat interested to make him want to continue conversing with you, in a more enjoyable way).

2. Talk about yourself as much as you ask him to share about himself - Since now you secured Niragi's attention enough so that he's willing to exchange a word or two with you, it's time to slowly show interest in him and that he's captivating enough to you to actually want to know him, but don't make it look as if you're literally interrogating him, share stuff about yourself too in relation to the conversation topic. This will help form a feeling of mutual trust between you two and won't make him question your true motives for coming to him. As always keep it subtle, make him want to continue talking to you, show a little bit of vulnerability (but not too much either), and if you feel bold/confident enough, you can also throw in a lil bit of flirting too (but again, DON'T throw yourself at him).

3. Build up that sexual tension baby! - Niragi LOVES a good sexual tension moment! Plus, we want him to be future boyfriend material, so it's important that you don't let him have his way with you from the very first 'date'. Make some flirty comments here and there after a while, because we all know Niragi is the type who's gonna show interest in 'that' too. Make him start to want you, crave you, but show him that you won't be that easy of a prey. One of the reasons he has a r*pe kink after all is because he loves when his victim prey tries to oppose him, showing resistance to some capacity, making the hunt more interesting and more worth engaging. So apply a similar principle here too (we don't want you to get in the position of an assault tho! so take it slow and easy), spike his interest by showing him that you might want to bed him, but at the same time play hard to get, be that 'forbidden fruit' he's going to crave getting a taste of, keep him in suspense and build up the sexual tension little by little with each and every interaction. Stir him up just enough so that he'll continue wanting to hunt you down, but not to the point in which he'll want to cut the chase short and get what he wants then and there!

4. DON'T EVER mention therapy - We've already established that Niragi is a prideful man, so he won't ever admit he needs to see a therapist, so take your mind off of even trying to attempt to 'fix' him. Repeat after me babes: PEOPLE ARE NOT YOUR PERSONAL DIY PROJECTS TO FIX! You choose someone to puruse romantically because you love them the way they are and for who they are, not because you are a dumb b*tch who believes all these crappy webtoon tropes.

So throw to the bin that bs cliche trope of 'I CaN FiX hIm!". You knew what you were signing up for the moment you decided to pursue this chase. If you truly love and want this man for yourself and yourself only for the rest of your life, you have to accept the fact that you ain't gonna change him and chances he's going to willingly want to change on his own are extremly low to 0 (this ain't fu*king Mr. Darcy babe) and especially NOT for you (unless maybe, just maybe, he actually falls down bad for you, in which case the most you'll get will be him trying to be just a little less violent and a tad bit more romantic towards you, but don't expect much). Niragi will appreciate if he'll see that you accept his decisions and who he wants to be, so show that you are there for him and support him no matter what the heck might happen (you are after all his loyal devotee, remember?). So yeah, one thing you should never tell Niragi (besides the obvious "NO" and "STOP") is to go to therapy. And DON'T even f*cking try therapying him yourself if you value your life! Triggering his past traumas ain't never a good idea.

5. The 'Friendzone' strategy - Ah, this is a personal favorite of mine to be honest, cause it goes well hand in hand with 2 and 3 and will help you secure that good starting point from 1. Thing is that most often than not, a Niragi might grow tired and even bored of the swarm of people wanting to romance him. So give him something different, be the 'exception' from the rule, that 'special' one that doesn't want to f*ck him (as stated at 1, be subtle and don't seem d*ck starved), be that odd one out who spikes his interest by simply wanting to be... FRIENDS!

We all love the enemies to lovers trope, but in real life, the one that works best for romancing someone is the friends to lovers approach, and so will it work in our quest too. Love is built on things two people have in common, things they share with each other, the nice things the two partners build together and the quality time they spend together. So, by becoming his friend first, you assure 3 of these stuff: you build memories with him through the crap you two do together, you share stuff and hopefully spend quality time together. Add to that the things he has (or thinks he has) in common with you, and BAM, he'll slowly start falling for you.

6. Devote yourself to him heart, body and soul - After a while, if things go smoothly between you two and he starts to show signs of possession over you and sexual/romantic interest (tho let's be real, in 99% of cases he's only going to show sexual interest in someone cause 'who the f*ck is love? We don't know her in this household!'), you can go on and finally confess your feelings to Niragi and maybe even start upping up your flirting game by showing him that you want him physically too. Start showering him with your undying love and adoration, make him feel full of himself seeing how helpless you are for him, what a lost cause you are in terms of being blinded with love, how much you freaking adore him and that you'd do ANYTHING for him (yeah, in 1 case out of 4 he might ask you to kill someone for him... But we don't really talk about that...). After having played very hard to get in the beginning, now you can finally loosen up and switch gears, becoming a needy mess for him, so that you'll manipulate convince him into to think that he has absolute control over you. In some cases, if you played your cards right, your love confession might yield you the very satisfying reward of Niragi confessing to you too in return.

Show him that you are loyal and devoted to him and that'll make him to also show a similar level of loyalty and devotion to you, as your trustworthy lover and partner in crime.

7. Be the Yang to his Yin, that innocent little sweet lamb that the bad wolf will devour - As mentioned in previous points, it's important to use that deceiving sweet innocent persona that emanates purity and innocence, this will stir him up a bit inside to want to have you, to corrupt you. Niragi is a man who loves to own things, so the more he can own of you, the better! Plus, being all innocent and vulnerable might trigger that primal instinct in him of wanting to protect you, especially now that he owns you.

If you already are a genuinely sweet person and even better, still a virgin too, you don't have to do anything special here, just be yourself and enjoy the effects you have on Niragi whenever you give him one of those adorable sweet looks or say something (especially his name) in that cute voice of yours... Trust me, it's worth it playing sweet and innocent for this one! Sure, a slutty dirty approach my work too, but remember, our strategy has proven effective in 3/4 cases! And doing the "little lamb" approach while also adding in the next point on the list... Oh boy, you'll see what we mean! ;)

7.5 Rile him up with some sexy dirty talk or 'naughty' behavior - Going really well together with our previous point is this one: adding some spice to the 'cat and mouse' chase by doing little lewd things and saying sexy stuff that go in contrast with your innocent vibe. This will make Niragi want you even more and is fun to see him salivating for you and you alone. This is more like a bonus 'tip' for your own enjoyment, as it's pretty much the same idea of building up the sexual tension as stated at 3, but it's still worth taking into consideration to amp up the fun.

Oh, and here's a bonus bonus tip: ask him about his wet dreams about you and also tell him about yours. You'll like the results. 😉 (It's better to do this after you've gone past the first stages of your relationship for max results).

8. Show your love and affection to him by cooking stuff for him or by doing small sweet things for him - Good, by now let's say you two are in that almost perfect scenario in which you confessed, he owns you, the sexual tension is thick enough to be cut with a knife and he seems fixated on you. It's time to assert your role as his significant other and partner by showing him how much you love him through caring actions such as making him something good to eat, giving him a massage, crafting something for him, you know, stuff like that. So far, cooking seems to hold a special place in our case, since it moves the Niragi, care being something new to him as so far no one had ever shown him that kind of affection. Plus, eating together is an act of platonic intimacy that strengthens a couple's bond. Also, pet names! If you feel confident enough, start sprinkling in that additional bit of 'umph' by starting to call him various cutesy pet names, or pet names that assert ownerships and devotion such as "my beloved", "my dear", "dearest", "my love". Again, make him feel loved and adored by you and show him how helplessly in love you are with him!

9. Allow him to see your most vulnerable states and build the trust - This helps with triggering his primal desire to keep you safe, as well as forming a stronger bond of trust between you two. Due to his past traumas, a Niragi will be reluctant to trust others, so if you allow him to see you in your must vulnerable of states, that implies a very high level of trust you've invested him with (we recommend you do this only in a latter stage of your relationship, since it might be risky to invest him with too much trust from the very start). Tell him that you feel safe with him, allow him to see your tears (unless he'll get angry because of that), if you don't do well with alcohol, allow him to see you drunk and to take care of your hangover, etc.

10. Be into his kinks - Well, this is self explanatory: he won't want you that much if you don't really allow him to do much in terms of fun. Sure, playing into he CNC kink will entertain him, but only doing that forever will make him get bored. Show him your kinky side, tell him in little detail about the things you want to do to him so that he'll get riled up just by imagining what your fantasies imply. Just be over all fun, experimental and involved. Again, you signed up for this willingly knowing fully well what he's into, so once started, there's no going back. If you'll keep turning down all of his kinks, that surely won't land you a stable ship. Also, bonus points if you have a breeding kink too, cause he's definitely into that and it'll turn him on even more if you tell him you want his babies.

11. Be possessive, but not very possessive - Being possessive sometimes can seem sexy to Niragi, so it's not that bad of an idea to mark your territory once in a while (he might even find it hot and fun if you leave marks on him and express out loud to others that he's yours alone). Tho, be careful, don't go overboard because remember, control is HIS thing and we want to keep him thinking that he's the one pulling the strings in your relationship.

12. Be invested in your relationship - There's nothing more turn offish for a Niragi than to see how little to no involvement you show in your relationship with him. So once committed to him, then girl, you have to be committed! Don't ignore him too long, but also don't annoy him; come up with fun new things for you two to do together; keep showering him with love and reminding him of how much you love him, etc. And don't use him for sex only!

12.5. Niragi is NOT your personal walking-talking sex toy! - Yes, man is hot. Yes, we all want to f*ck him. Yes, the sexy times are the best part of a Niragi ship, but don't make this the only subject matter of your interactions (unless you are going for the horndog Niragi species, then that might work, but you'll have to be gosh darn creative to keep things always fresh and fun even when going for the same activity again and again). It's also somewhat degrading for Niragi to feel used as an object by you. Sure, he might want to use you as his toy, but he loathes when someone else does that to him. So make him feel important and loved as a human too, not only for his d*ck.

13. Die for him - This might be extreme, but if you are going for a tragic kind of story, sacrificing yourself for Niragi is the ultimate symbol of your love and devotion to him. If you did everything well so far and got Niragi to love you to some extent, such an extreme measure will secure for sure your position as his biggest, truest and only love, since he won't ever replace you and will probably end up living his life mourning you in his own weird ways or seeking to get revenge for your death from those responsible of it.

Well, there you have it! The complete guide for dating Niragi! We wish you all the best and good luck in your quest of taming a Niragi and pursuing your very own ship with him! 👍

(Disclaimers!) Please note that we do not take responsibility or can be held accountable in case any of these steps goes wrong and results in the injury of your own well being, since you voluntarily accepted to pursue a Niragi at your own risk, knowing very well about each and every implication.

Have fun and remember: First step to be able to do any of this is to TRY TO ACTUALLY TALK TO a Niragi! :D

[aurorawest]

The Scottish Boy by Alex de Campi - 5/5 stars

This book managed to rip my heart out at least 3 times. I loved it. Medieval enemies-to-lovers slow burn; very romantic. Kinda read like fanfiction at times but in a good way. 10/10 would read a follow-up love story about Arundel and Captain Wekena. If you like Captive Prince, give this one a try.

Reforged by Seth Haddon - 4/5 stars

Pretty good bodyguard romantasy. Ironically CS Pacat blurbed this one (another am-I-in-the-matrix moment). The world was interesting and I enjoyed the politics, though they're definitely not as complicated as other SFF politics I've gone feral over (see: Captive Prince, Winter's Orbit, A Memory Called Empire). I ordered the sequel after I finished this.

The Doctor's Date by Heidi Cullinan - 4/5 stars

A Power Unbound by Freya Marske - 5/5 stars

Where do I start? I love, love, LOVE A Marvellous Light. It's one of my favorite books ever. None of the rest of the books in the trilogy could live up to it, really, because it's so good. You'll notice I rated this one 5 stars though, because quite honestly I fell prey to a bit of The Academy Paying The Lord of the Rings Trilogy Its Due syndrome. I did love this book and thought it was better than A Restless Truth (which I still loved!) but part of that is, quite frankly, just due to the fact that I prefer m/m romance to f/f romance.

Anyway. This was such a good finale to the trilogy. I loved that the romance was a giant middle finger to purity cultists. I loved that one of the mains was Italian. I loved finally getting the story of what happened to the Alston twins. One thing I thought was really cool was how, viewed from the outside, you totally get why Edwin is such a loner. I really admire from a writing perspective how Marske pulled that off.

I feel like there's a lot to be said about what Marske was trying to SAY with this book, but I definitely need to reread it first before I can articulate any of it. The purity culture stuff is obvious, but the magic system too. I feel like Jack when he's almost able to connect everything in his mind into a bigger idea, but he can't quite get there.

I've got a special edition from Illumicrate coming, so I'll be rereading it when I have that.

Oh also, this book was the embodiment of all that one tumblr post -

The Guncle by Steven Rowley - 5/5 stars

I saw this in bookstores for years before I finally gave in and bought it. The blurb makes it sound insufferable and twee. Ignore the blurb. This was such a good book about grief and learning how to live again after terrible loss.

I Like Me Better by Robby Weber - 4/5 stars

At last I can stop getting the Lauv song stuck in my head whenever I set eyes on this book (it's stuck in my head as I type this). Pretty standard-issue YA, but it was cute and had a good message.

The Stagsblood King by Gideon E Wood - 4/5 stars

Another book about moving on from grief! This is the second book in a trilogy. When I was trying to determine if I wanted to read on beyond book 1, I scoured the internet for information about what happens in books 2 and 3. Eventually I decided, hell, I enjoyed book 1 well enough, even if what I want to happen in the rest of the trilogy doesn't happen, they're worth reading. SO, to that end, I will tell anyone looking for info that Tel gets romantically involved with a new man in this one, which, eh. I still want him to somehow end up with Vared. It was still quite good though.

In the Lives of Puppets by TJ Klune - DNF at pg 82

So funnily, we were at the bookstore the day I was about to start reading this, and my wife pointed out Ravensong (also by Klune) to me and said, "Do you have this one?" I made a face and said, "That's an older one of his books and I'm wary of his early work after that horrible Verania series. I don't think I've ever read an author as hit or miss as TJ Klune."

I wrote the above when I was 60 pages in and now I have officially DNFed this. Listen. You know how in Thor: Love and Thunder, Taika Waititi was clearly given free rein to do whatever he wanted, so all of his worst impulses made it to the final cut unchecked? Yeah. That's what this book is like.

Here's my Storygraph review: I see Klune is officially Too Big To Edit now. This book has exactly the same problem that his awful Verania series had—a joke that's funny at first but quickly grows tiresome when it's repeated five times per page. The emphasis on Victor's asexuality was also weird and read like Klune was just super proud of himself for writing an ace character.

Lion's Legacy by LC Rosen - 4.25/5 stars

Queer, YA Indiana Jones, but less #problematic. This book had some eerie similarities to my own archaeology adventure novel(s), which made me wonder half-seriously if I somehow know Lev Rosen? Anyway, I feared this would be very heavy-handed and not nuanced on archaeology's ethical dilemmas, since it's YA and also the current culture is to view said dilemmas as completely black and white with no nuance, but I was pleasantly surprised. It manages to examine that, queerness, and daddy issues, plus has time to be a genuinely fun and exciting adventure story. Highly recommend.

Too White to be Coloured, Too Coloured to be Black by Ismail Lagardien - 4/5 stars

I picked up this memoir in a bookstore at OR Tambo airport in Johannesburg as research for Six Places to Fall in Love, since Percy is coloured. A pretty brutal read, but good, and definitely good research. The author was a photographer and journalist through the most violent years of apartheid.

The Splendid and the Vile by Erik Larson - 5/5 stars

Two nonfiction books in a row?? This is the second book by Erik Larson I've read, the first being the excellent The Devil in the White City. I'm not, in general, all that interested in WWII when it comes to military history, but this book is about the day to day lives of Churchill and the people surrounding him (with brief stops to visit FDR and high-ranking Nazis sprinkled throughout). This is a very, very good book, and I recommend reading it if only as a reminder of the resilience and bravery of ordinary people under terrifying circumstances.

Some Desperate Glory by Emily Tesh - 5/5 stars

Holy shit. Holy shit is this book good. Imagine the love child of Lost, Person of Interest, and Battlestar Galactica, but queer and with multiverse shenanigans thrown in.

I need everyone to read this book. Now. Yesterday. Get to it.

[elpis-simps]

Okay I just found out something. So we all know Captain Marvel. (BTW this post is for marvel fans) and her movie. I've watched that movie multiple times. Love it, I think it's written fairly well, great CGI, funny script, good lore and story, love how everything ties in, overall its a really good movie; and captain marvel is one of my favourite superheroes, and one of the most badass.

WHY THE F*CK do people think she's a "bad movie and bad superhero" like it's one of the really good B.E movies! (Before Endgame)

**I'm using B.E as Befoee Endgame because A.E (after endgame) is arguably the worse marvel era. Don't get me wrong, it has some great stuff in A.E, but B.E is just better overall.

Anyways, back to what I was saying. I think k Brie Larson was a great actress and did really well portraying the character Captain Marvel. Not to mention captain marvel was one of the overpowered superheroes in the B.E era, before they started making everyone OP to defeat big CGI villains and to make their movies more action packed to get more views and stuff. She had good plotline, good powers, cool backstory, funny, and genuinely one of my favourite female superheroes.

I would love to see her as the new face of the MCU, A.E. considering they killed off what was generally considered the "face" of the MCU, Iron Man and Captain America, they haven't put much focus on one or two specific people to be aforementioned face.

Captain marvel hasn't been killed off, she has amazing potential, and she's personally one of my favourite 'Big Badass Backup To Fight Big Strong Villain" in those "No hope left" moments.

I don't understand the hate on her. May e its because she was, along with Natasha Romanff, one of the first female superheroes on-screen in the MCU. Sexism is a big thing in movies and stuff, but I have some reasons why I think she and another person- who I will mention later- should be the next 'Face of the MCU'.

1: the previous 'face' duo was Iron man and Captain America. So it sta ds to reason, along with what marvel has been doing to be more racially and gender inclusive, that we should have 2 female superheroes.

Yes I know the whole 'really overexaggerated feminist film superhero plotline new budget annoying superhero to earn more money and get higher ratings' thing is annoying; but hear me out.

Point 2: I have a few options, but to continue off of point 1; I feel like a good combo would be The Scarlet Witch and Captain Marvel. (Wanda Maximoff and Carol Danvers)

They are both powerful, badass, good storyline, great actors behind them heroes/characters. They could make for a good duo to contrast from the B.E duo of men.

Point 3: yes u know that Wanda is 'dead' BUT before the rocks fell on her, you could clearly see a flash of RED MAGIC in the rocks. After the entire Dr Strange MoM (multiverse of madness) plotline was 'Scarlet Witch has grown in power she's following us into DUFFERENT DIMENSIONS and was prophesied since the DAWN OF TIME, and has unlocked much more of her powers, I HIGHLY doubt some normal old rocks would kill her.

It's just unlikely considering how obscure some of marvels foreshadowing has been, we know that they foreshadow films that come out like 3 years later.

Point 4: moving away from Captain Marvel and Wanda, how about a new duo.

Bucky Barnes and Yelena Belova. Its similar to the old duo of Captain America (man out of time, from 1940, soldier) and Iron Man (normal human, with special training/ gear that is one of the only things that makes them super.)

This duo would be interesting, especially as we've seen both bucky AND yelena on an official marvel movie poster together.

I personally love both characters;and it pays homage to the golden age of marvel B.E.

Bucky is homage to Captain America (obviously) and Yelena is homage to both Iron Man AND Natasha Romanoff.

And it could allow for more opportunity of the old age to come shining back through the new age, in the form of two humans, who have a rivalry,

(I think it would be interesting to have bucky and yelena to have a mild rivalry at least, considering we chose them due to there similarities with the old duo, cap and stark)

Who are also enhanced in ways that gives them an advantage in fighting, and it could give a lot of opportunity to save marvel. And bucky is a fan favourite character, so considering marvels reputation going down now their movies are getting worse COMPARED TO B.E, I think this could be a great way to bring the nostalgia of the old movies back.

So my original rant was about captain marvel being hated. Sorry for making you read all this, and if you have read everything here, I thank you immensely for giving me the time and chance.

I really miss the B.E era, and hate how they kill off all the OG great characters for new, sh*ttier superheros like Kamala Khan.

So here is just some ideas in my passionate rant which I would love to see. I love Wanda and Captain marvel, but personally I think I would prefer the Winter Soldier and White Widow duo because it would need less fancy magic CGI, and give the film(s) they appear in a more B.E and better quality feel then just a bunch of CGI that takes away from the quality of the movie and storyline, and the lack of CGI ( I mean the bright magic flashy stuff they constantly use in A.E, not the general cgi they more often use in B.E)

Would give the film(s) a better, more enostalgic, more authentic, emotional, just overall better film quality and plotline.

[ao3feed-irondadspiderson]

Stark Genetics (or whatever you want to call it Tony is DONE)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/53289325 by lyraless When Peter Parker calls Tony in the middle of the night, he is surprised. However, any hope for a normal conversation goes away the moment he hears his Kid's laugh, and his problem with saying a sentence straight. Peter may be high, but Tony Stark really feels too old for this. But that would be too good of a situation, wouldn't it? No, no, no, his normal night turns a shitty direction the moment he hears a sassy girl's voice on the other side of the call a few seconds later. And the teen really tests his patience - not only she makes him think about what he has written in his previous researches, she also makes him rethink about his past sitationship that was YEARS ago. Surely, the high teen cannot be his blood prodigy now, can she? Words: 2707, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 3 of The not-so perfect AU of Eden Toni Jarvis - genius, brokenaire, playgirl and philantropist. Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Iron Man (Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/F, F/M Characters: Peter Parker, Spider-Man, Original Female Character(s), Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Edwin Jarvis, Tony Stark, Ana Jarvis, Howard Stark Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Original Female Character(s), Tony Stark & Original Female Character(s), Peter Parker/Original Female Character(s), Tony Stark/Original Female Character(s), Peter Parker & Tony Stark & Original Female Character(s) Additional Tags: alternative universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Needs Sleep, Tony Stark Needs Therapy, Parent Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has Issues, High School Student Peter Parker, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, References to Drugs, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Not Beta Read, we die like Tony stark, Recreational Drug Use, POV Tony Stark read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/53289325

[kandisheek]

FIC REC WEEK 16 – DARK FIC

AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT: Kiyaar

It's incredible just how much suffering Kiyaar can pack into a single fic. Their writing is so raw and visceral that it almost evokes a physical reaction in me, it pulls me in every time. Whenever I need my fix of whump and heartbreak, I head straight to their AO3, because their fics are amazing.

Here's some of their work that I think you should check out:

Take My Body Home

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 11,444 Tags: Rape, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Superior Iron Man

Summary: After the events of Superior Iron Man, Tony sells Extremis to the highest bidder and finds himself living as an expatriate in Russia. Steve's never been good at letting go.

Reasons why I love it: Oh my fucking god, that ending?? My heart is crushed, holy shit. So many lines get crossed, there's so much agony, not just physical but emotional, and it kept my eyes glued to my screen the entire time. This fic HURTS, and if you can handle it, I highly recommend it!

5, 4, 3, 2, 1

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: M Words: 2,410 Tags: Major Character Death, Survivor's Guilt, Body Horror

Summary: In another world, on another Earth, the Superhuman Civil War has a darker, bloodier end.

Reasons why I love it: I've always been fascinated by the Civil Warrior, and this take on his story just breaks my heart. That scene after he first uses the reality gem - chills. I love those last few paragraphs more than I can say. This fic is amazing, and I hope you check it out for yourself!

Rusted Wheel, or How the Civil War Might Have Ended

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 3,183 Tags: Major Character Death, Canon Divergence, Civil War

Summary: Tony was on the steps of the Courthouse and took the bullets for Steve.

Reasons why I love it: Urgh, I cry. As if the Courthouse Steps weren't already angsty enough, this just wrecked me all over again. I always love role reversal what ifs, and this one is really good. Grab some tissues and give this one a go, it's amazing!

Our Love Is a Ghost That the Others Can't See

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: M Words: 11,726 Tags: Extremis, Depression, Hallucinations

Summary: Post-Civil War, canon-divergent from Director of SHIELD. In Tony’s dreams, he is back in the street, in a crater, the city on fire around him. Steve kneels over him and beats him to within an inch of his life. It’s his favorite place to be, these days.

Reasons why I love it: Jesus Christ, this fic is P-A-I-N-F-U-L. If you like to suffer, this is definitely the one for you. I loved every second of it - the Tony whump, his hallucinations, that ending - it's all brilliant. If you can handle some graphic violence and heart-shattering angst, then definitely give this one a shot!

Accretion

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 8,840 Tags: Rape, Torture, Captivity

Summary: No one is coming, he thinks. Tony is busy, and even if he wasn't - Steve has been discarded. He never ranked first, did he. He doesn't know what he was to Tony beyond convenient. Tony is out there dealing with this, somewhere, on the edge of his own mountain, using one of his wondrous and terrible inventions, shaving off another piece of his soul. He wonders how many incursions this is. If Tony lies to himself to get through the day. If he loses sleep at night about it. No, he decides.

Reasons why I love it: Pain. I am in pain. This fic perfectly encapsulates all the complexities of Steve and Tony's relationship, all the betrayal and hurt hanging over their heads. Everything about this fic just breaks my heart in the best possible way. Definitely give this one a read, it's amazing!