#it feels weird to use the my fics tag for this

[djarins-cyare]

WIP Wednesday

Well, the Roll-A-Trope Writing Challenge deadline is fast approaching, and I’m 6 chapters and 18k words into what has turned into something waaay lengthier than it started out! So sorry, teacher, I think I’m gonna need an extension on my homework deadline.

Meanwhile, throughout September, I’ve been tagged in various WIP posts by @the-mandawhor1an, @burntheedges, @nerdieforpedro, and @for-a-longlongtime (thank you all 💚), so under the cut, you’ll find a little midweek offering of my now somewhat out-of-control Secret Relationship trope fic...

***If you haven’t already, you may wish to read my first WIP post before the one below, as this one references the earlier one.***

“He raised you?” Mando sounds incredulous. “Why is that weird?” He sighs. “It’s not. Well… it might be. Sleeping with the guy’s niece was one thing, but you’re like his kid—” “Stop there,” you demand with steely ferocity. “First, I am not a kid in any sense. I don’t need to see your face to guess you’re not that much older than me. And, like you, I’m an adult and can make my own decisions, so no kid references, please. Second, whatever his reasons are for keeping us apart, they don’t matter because once I leave here, none of this ever happened. Right?” Your mini tirade is met first with silence, then a chuckle. “Has anyone ever told you you’re bossy?” His amusement diffuses your mock indignation, and you smirk. “You kind of have to be when you grow up here. You don’t think you can handle me?” You shift a little closer to him on the couch. “Oh, mesh’la,” he drawls, his voice casual but with a fiendish edge. “I’m a bounty hunter by trade. You think I haven’t dealt with people far wilder than you?” Kriff, yeah. There’s that confidence you saw last night when he indirectly requested an orgasm before you went to bed. Sure, it’s nice to know that there’s a sweet and awkward guy beneath the warrior exterior, but this is what you find attractive in him. The confident, intimidating hunter. You visibly shiver and press your thighs together at the thought, and he chuckles darkly. Yeah, you just gave away your desires. Still, he doesn’t move yet. You feel like he’s waiting to pounce… emphasis on the waiting. “Okay then, Mandalorian,” you goad with your head held high, almost daring him. “Show me what you’ve got.” There’s a pause as he tilts his helmet slightly, and it lingers for long enough that you start to wonder whether you said the wrong thing. You were just keeping up the banter. Why has he suddenly gone silent? A few more moments pass, and your second-guessing becomes mildly frantic. But as you bite your lip and furrow your brow, Mando releases a deep hum and rumbles, “Mm… better.” Suddenly, you realise. This is not a contest of wits, and he’s not in the mood for sexual banter. He wants to be in charge this time. Well, you were in control last night, and he did say he would pay you back. Plus, he’s spent a whole cycle being unable to control anything due to his injuries. It’s becoming clearer how he sees this going. And you’re very much on board. Now that you understand, you try again. Tucking your chin down, you look up at him through your lashes and soften your tone. “Please, Mando…” “Mm, good girl,” he praises, and heat sparks to life in both your chest and your cunt. “Please, what? What do you want?” You think back to the dialogue that led to the blow job. “Please, will you make me come?” At last, he moves, reaching for your lower thigh and running his palm slowly upward, leaving flames in its wake. “My helmet stays on at all times, non-negotiable. If you touch it, this stops, understand?” “I understand.” Apparently, lifting it to help him drink last night was a one-time deal. “Good. Then, yes, cyar’ika, I’ll make you come.”

Tagging the folks who showed interest in my first snippet as well as those on my permanent tag list. Those of you who write/create and would like to share something with the class, please feel free to do any type of WIP post (Wednesday, weekend, weekday, whatever) if the mood takes you, no pressure 💚

@5oh5 @604to647 @almostfoxglove @ashleyfilm @burntheedges

@captainredspade @cheekychaos28 @chiyo13 @cw80831 @dindjarins-big-tiddy-goth-gf

@djarin-desires @djarinmuse @drewharrisonwriter @ella-whyte @evolnoomym

@fhatbhabiee @fromthedeskoftheraven @grogusmum @here-briefly @hillarymurray4

@itsjuststardust @jessthebaker @joelalorian @j-p3g @lahooozaherr

@lark-of-mirkwood @latenightswithmiller @lilac-boo @magpiepills @mandoloriancookie

@mosssbawls @nebulanibbles @nerdieforpedro @newpathwrites @none-of-this-makes-any-sense

@prolix-yuy @roughdaysandart @secretelephanttattoo @sidoniyablackwood @sixhours

@syd-djarin @the-blind-assassin-12 @theetherealbloom @the-mandawhor1an @thundermartini

@toomanytookas @vikingqueen28 @whiskeyneat-coffeeblack @whocaresstillthelouvre @whxtedreams

@wrathkitty @yopossum @you-give-aspirin-headaches

[tallyica]

Uh Dave x reader. Dave wants reader but unfortunately reader is already dating (any member from Metallica) so when reader broke up with (Metallica member) for some reason, he started talking to reader and eventually ended up together. reader is way happier with Dave.

(Kinda basic but I know you’ll make it great 😍)

hihi!!

omg I'm actually posting a very long fic after threatening to quit writing..

also ily Kay this is a good req I LOVE James and Dave dynamic stuff (anything having to do with revenge or jealousy, if youre a writer PLS write some and tag me..) so i loved this req

anywayssss

word count: 4,515 (I think my longest one to date)

warnings: angst, break up, cheating, drinking, fluff, mention of drugs (once), kinda corny, rushed but slow at the same time, way too similar to that one mustainegf fic

A CHANGE, FOR THE BETTER. (1987-1990)

Once again the apartment was cold and empty. It wasn't actually empty; it was filled by James and me. We were on opposite sides of the couch, avoiding each other. IT had been like this for months. We hadn't hugged, kissed, held hands, gone out, anything that normal couples do. He was quiet, which differed from how he was with his friends, including me. Though, this hadn't been different for a while. I've almost gotten used to it, but not emotionally. No matter how hard I try, he seems like he isn't there. The more I thought about it, the more it settled in, the more it hurt. The more I felt I needed to talk about it.

I finally broke the painful and dead silence between us, “What up with you, You've been weird with me for months?” I asked, finally turning my head to face him. He wasn't looking at me, or anything. He was hunched over, his blonde locks blocking the view of his face as he stared at the floor.

James let out a huff in response, shrugging.

This was going to be a long, and very difficult conversation.

James would get like this when there was something on his mind. Something big, but normally it would spill over before this point, he normally would just be like this for a week or two before confessing whatever was hurting him, and I would hold him and comfort him as he cried.

I sighed, moving closer to him, and placing my hand on his back, but he retracted from my touch, something I had gotten used to.

“James, talk to me, please..?” I asked softly, though I was willing to beg to have what we had back.

He just shook his head, adjusting slightly and sitting back, letting me see his stressed and confused expression. “What's bothering you? Tell me, I know that something is wrong..” I tried again, my eyes on his, but his were on the black TV screen.

I tried to move closer to him, my hand on his knee as I tried to get him to even look in my general direction, “James, look at me,” I asked more than commanded.

His eyes wandered in my direction, but landing on the couch cushions under me. It was a start at least. “Can you just say something, please?” I asked again, keeping my tone gentle.

He took a deep, long sigh, mumbling something I couldn't hear, couldn't understand.

Or maybe I did, but I didn't want to.

“What?” I asked, refusing to believe any of this was real as tears stung my eyes.

James just repeated himself, the words falling from his lips like shards of glass.

I shook my head, standing from the couch as the tears began to fall down my face. Knowing of the other woman, I was broken. I was pacing, and he didn't even look at me.

“Are you serious?! Why?! Was I not good enough for you?! We could've talked, we could've worked things out!” I cried, my stomach twisting in a tight and sorrowful knot.

He didn't look like he had any emotions on his face, but I could sense and feel the guilt and pain that clouded him. Every word he spoke only brought more tears to my eyes, each one punctuated with a sharp and sad pain I felt in my heart, eyes, mind, everywhere.

I was trembling as I shook my head, for some reason I refused to believe any of this, or that this was real. I began to waddle towards the kitchen counter, filled with hurt and rage, grabbing my car keys and purse.

“Where are you going?” James asked, his own voice shaky with guilt and regret.

“Away.” I answered harshly, beginning to walk back to the door.

“Please, we can fix this, just.. Just stay with me, ok?” James begged almost, though he wouldnt even stand up to face me, eyeing muy figure from the comfort of the couch. One that held many memories of us.

I shook my head, “No, no, I.. I need to go..” I mumbled, reaching for the door handle and leaving hearing James call out for me as I shut the door, stumbling to my car, getting in and beginning to drive fast and far, no clue where I was headed. It was late at night, probably past ten pm. Tears strung down my face, puddling on the shirt I was wearing, which I realized was James’ shirt. That didn't help, making me sob harder as the faint and musty smell of beer and smoke fumed from his shirt, reminding me of him too much.

After twenty minutes or so of driving, I came past a run down hotel, hearing the soft pitter patter of rain hit the roof of my car, the clouds matching my eyes. I parked, scurrying into the lobby, an older and tired woman at the front desk, noticing the clear sadness that radiated off me.

We had a brief interaction, paying for my room before wandering up to the beat door, the well cleaned room before me.

I stepped in, shutting the door behind me before falling onto the bed, everything hitting me as I began to break down and cry. The man I had once cherished, loved, my everything and world was gone, no longer who I knew. No matter how guilty he felt or regretted it, or how drunk he was, he still did it. It hurt, and it hurt horribly. Someone I poured every ounce of my love and my being into threw me out for some shitty drunken fling with some random slut.

It wasn't long before I cried myself asleep, awaking with a harsh headache, trying to put back together everything that had happened. The words rang in my ears, twisting in me like a punch to the stomach. Instead of sadness, it was just anger and hurt. Tears couldn't come to my eyes, just a cruel, upset feeling I couldn't name.

I laid on that bed for a few hours, the soft hum of electricity filling my ears as I got lost in thought. I had woken up at three pm, and it was now six. I had to get out, do something, talk with someone. Why not go to a bar, get a drink, take the edge off and maybe talk to someone to distract myself.

I went into the bathroom, wiping the black streaks of mascara and other smudged makeup off my face, fixing my hair as much as I could without a brush or any products before checking out and walking back down to my car.

I just drove around, going a bit further out of town on the off chance I may run into James.

Then I saw it, the dark building with a pink neon sign on the outside, not looking too busy on the inside but still a good amount of people. 

I felt I had been here before. Maybe a few years back, maybe a few nights ago.. I wasn't sure, but there was a comforting familiarity as I walked in.

I ordered a drink, sitting at the bar as I picked at my nails, watching the football game on the TV. Not that I cared much for sports, but it was a start for a distraction.

I sat in there for maybe several minutes before my drink was ready, the bartender handing it to me as I began to sip on the bitter liquid, sighing softly as I tried to relax.

I felt a tap on my back, confused and surprised, I turned around.

Then I saw him.

Dave Mustaine, a man I hadn't seen in person for about four years. He was on the rise of the metal world, finally earning his own independent name. Our eyes met, and we instantly recognized each other.

Dave smiled, chuckling to himself, “Where the hell have you been?!” He asked happily, and I forced a smile back.

“I haven't gone anywhere, still been here. Where the hell have you been?” I asked back, hoping this conversation could take me away from this ruin I have been placed in.

He shrugged, “About, just becoming the next big face in the metal scene..” He answered back in a cocky way, as usual.

Seeing him in this bar, made all those old memories flood back. This is where I first met Dave, finally realizing why this place seemed so familiar. James and I had been friends about a year before he formed Metallica, and I remember him asking me to come to this bar with him to go meet his bandmates. I met Lars, Ron, and of course, Dave. 

Dave was still fiery as ever, never changing from his previous self. 

We began to talk, catching up on the years of missed time together, the once strong bond we had slowly reforming.

I remembered the first time I came to one of the band's practices. It was at James’ garage, and Ron and Lars had already left. It was just the three of us, but James was in the house. Dave and I chatted for what felt like hours, and quickly became close and good friends. We had a lot in common, so we got along well.

Then, Dave asked me a question, snapping me out of my thoughts of the past.

“So, how’s things with James? You guys still a couple?” Dave asked, clearly not meaning anything negative, but I felt it.

The question made my stomach twist in a knot, reminding me of the bitter end I had with James last night. I glanced to the floor, my expression shifting from positive to anxious in a way.

Dave quickly took notice of my change in demeanor, his expression softening, “Did.. did something happen? What’s up?” He asked, clearly worried.

I sighed, shrugging. Should I tell him this? Ruin our night together? Force him to feel guilty?

But I didn't want to lie to him either, it would be easier to just rip off the bandaid and move on.

“Uhm, we kinda broke up last night..” I mumbled, staring down at our shoes.

Dave's face was struck with realization, nodding slowly with a solemn expression, “Oh shit, sorry to hear. What happened?” Of course he had to dig deeper. And again, who am I to deny him the truth? He wasn't really one to judge.

“Well.. things had just been rough the last few months.. And then he told me that.. He cheated on me..” I answered with a sigh, feeling a slight weight taken off my shoulders as I acknowledged it, but a fifty pound boulder crashing down on my heart.

Dave looked upset, frustrated even. “I told you that fucker was never any good,” Dave reminded me, which brought me back to the night when James had asked me out.

It was the night of the first Metallica show I got to go to, not having work or anything, and I had to be a supportive best friend. After the show, I went backstage, waiting for the band, when James had ran towards me, grabbing my hands and pulling me into his dressing room, very rushedly confessing to me, which had me smiling wide, as I had felt the same from when we first met, but he had as girlfriend at the time.

It was just us, sharing another happy moment together. No one had known that we were official, but I'm sure someone caught onto his crushing, or mine.

It wasn't just that someone caught on, Dave knew. I told him after a few too many drinks, but of course he remembered that one thing.

After we had come out of that dressing room, I went to go talk with Dave, to tell him that everything seemed to be going perfectly for me at that moment, but then he spoke before I could.

“I don't think you should be around James too much man, he enjoys the life on the road a bit too much, if you get what I mean,”.

It was one of the last things he said to me before he got kicked from the band. After I told him we were dating, we drifted apart, and then he was kicked out.

I hadn't thought of those words until tonight. And it only proved that Dave was right. James did enjoy the drinking, groupies, drugs, all of it. It was only a while until I found out, which I did.

I was snapped back to the present hearing the loud whoops and clapping of other patrons of the bar, who were watching the football game on the TV. I nodded in response to Dave's statement, “I know, you warned me the minute after I started dating him.. Guess you were right..” I admitted, and Dave nodded back.

“It pisses me off, y’know?” He began, “You're too good for that shit, especially from a jerk like him.” Dave added.

I just nodded again, and he kept talking. “I guess he just can never see what he had, always wants ‘better’ but he already has what's best. I mean, he threw me out for that Kirk guy, he's no nowhere as good as me! And I’m sure whoever he slept with is just some whore,” He concluded, and I just nodded again.

“You're right… as always, it seems,” I answered back to him, before my thoughts drowned out the world around me once more.

Dave probably understood this better than anyone, at1 least when it comes to being mistreated and betrayed by James. Someone who he considered a brother, a close friend, kicked him to the curb for someone else. And in similar was me. Someone I considered a lover, and closest friend I had, traded me in for another.

“Do you have a place to stay?” Dave asked, calming after his rant.

“No, not really.. I'm staying at a motel a few miles away,” I answered back, and he thought for a moment before speaking again.

“If you want, you could come stay at my place, I wouldn't mind the extra company, it gets pretty lonely there anyways,” He offered, and my eyes lit up, a small hope in my heart.

“Yeah, that'd be great, thanks,” I said with a small smile, a weight lifted off my shoulders.

“We could leave the bar now and get you set up, it's a one bedroom, I don't mind taking the couch until you've figured something out,” Dave suggested.

I quickly shook my head, “No, don't take the couch, it's your place, I'm the guest! I'll take the couch,” I rebutted.

Dave just nodded, “Exactly, you're the guest, you get the best treatment. Plus, it won't be forever, I'll be fine for a few nights.” Dave still noticed hesitation in my eyes, “I insist.” He added.

I sighed, “Fine, if you insist. But don't hesitate asking me to take the couch once in a while, alright?”

Dave just smiled, “Sure.”

After that, we got in our cars and I followed him to his place, a decent apartment complex in the outskirts of town. We parked and he led me to his door, unlocking it and allowing us in.

“Make yourself at home,” He said, setting down his keys and walking towards the bedroom, and I followed him.

“Hope you don't mind the mess, but it'll do.” My nose was overwhelmed with the strong smell of cigarette smoke and liquor, something he had never been able to get rid of even after not seeing him for four years.

It reminded me of James, which made me feel solemn once more. “Thanks, it's fine, I don't mind, you're already offering me all of this,” I added, sitting down on his unmade bed, which he joined me on.

“You alright? You still seem upset,” He questioned, and I could feel tears pricking at my eyes once more.

“Yeah, I'm fine..” I forced out, my voice choked as I wiped the stray tear from my cheek, avoiding eye contact with him.

Dave noticed, tilting his head slightly as his concern grew, “Hey, look at me, you can talk to me, y’know?”

And just like that, I crumbled. Tears filled my eyes, and they spilled right over as I broke out into sobs, and he just wrapped his arms around me, holding me as iI leaned closer to him, soaking his worn and faded shirt with my tears as he gently comforted me and shushed my cries, wiping my tears with his thumbs when he could.

We stayed like that for what felt like hours, just him holding me and caring for me, but in a way James never could, never did. James was sweet when he wanted to be, but he never held me like this and heard my cries and answered them with comfort.

After a while, I had cried myself to sleep, my cries lessening and silencing as my breathing began to even out, and Dave laid me down gently and got me into bed, wrapping the blankets around me before he headed out for the couch.

That was the night where it began, the rekindling of our once close friendship. Even though we had agreed that this wouldn't be permanent, we had now been living together for a few months, and it felt like we had never been separated, as if we had been friends for the last seven years.

Today, we were planning to go back to that bar, the first time since that night we bumped into each other. We both needed to get out, and Dave was beat and stressed over all the touring with Megadeth, and we could both use a drink.

Dave had been out for a bit today, and I was busy getting ready for tonight since he would be home within the hour. It wasn't a fancy occasion, and I was definitely over-dressing, but I hadn't had any reason to look pretty in forever, getting to wear my favorite black dress, once that complimented my figure and hugged my curves, flowing down to a bit above my knees.

I did my makeup, nothing too glam but noticeable, and for the first time in a long time, I felt beautiful. Even when I thought I had previously when I was with James, he never showed an appreciation or complimented me often.

I shook the thoughts of James out of my head, knowing I had to move on, even though much of myself was still left in that past of what we once were.

I was snapped out of my thoughts as I heard Dave open the door, entering the apartment with a sigh. “Im back,” He called out as I finished clipping on my earrings, walking out to Dave.

“Hey, are you ready to go?” I asked him, seeing his face slightly surprised as he took in my figure.

“Yeah, totally.. You, you look great, by the way..” He answered, still taking in my appearance.

I smiled widely, “Thanks! Let's go then, yeah?”

Dave nodded and we headed out to his car, driving back to that bar, per his choice. The drive was filled with conversation and laughter, as we found that there was rarely a moment of silence between us. His hand rested lightly on my knee, and I didn't think much of it, just a sweet and friendly gesture.

When we arrived at the bar, he offered me a hand and helped me out of the car, walking me in the dim lighted and busy establishment as we searched for somewhere to sit, finding an empty table in the corner, quickly scurrying over there before someone else could snag the spot. 

It was a large table, one meant to seat probably around six people as it was a booth. The leather of the seats were well worn, torn in some places. The table matched, scratched up and old, though it held many memories. 

Dave got up to go order us some drinks, returning soon after and sitting down in front of me. We began to talk, but there was something different, and what I hated most about it is that I couldn't put my finger on it. It wasn't anything negative, but everything felt heavier, like I could feel my heart pounding in my chest for a reason I didn't know.

Dave acted off too, like something was bothering him. He was fidgety, his eyes avoiding mine but at the same holding long term eye contact. What was going on with him?

I tried to not think about it as I was probably over analyzing the whole situation. I took a sip of my drink, and for once, there was a lasting silence between us.

I didn't know what to say. The bar wasn't my idea, it was something Dave had planned on a few days ago, and he seemed excited at the time. “Everything ok? You just seem all.. Jittery.” I commented, snapping Dave out of whatever haze of thoughts he was in.

“Yeah, totally,” He muttered, which only grew my curiosity, and sparked a new worry.

Was he on drugs? Well, I knew he was, but was he on too much?

“You're not… on anything right now?” I mumbled out in a question and he shook his head.

“No no, it's not that, I swear.” Dave reassured me, and I had to take his word for it.

Dave tapped his fingers on the table a few times as he thought before speaking up.

“You uh, you remember anything in specific about this place?” Dave asked me out of the blue.

“Uhm,” I paused to think, “Yeah, isn't this where you picked me up a few months ago?”

“Well, yeah, but anything else? Think as far back as you can,” Dave instructed me, and I tried to think.

Until it hit me.

“Oh! Yeah! Isn't this where James took me to meet the rest of the band? We even sat at this booth, right?” I finally remembered, and the memories flooded back as clear as day.

Dave hasn't changed much since then, but I do remember how he was when we very first interacted. He was crazy and animalistic, yeah, but he seemed shy around me, until he had a few beers, and then he was way less tense and boxed up. That was the beginning of our friendship.

“Yeah, I think about that a lot,” Dave informed me, and I nodded.

Dave still seemed off, like he was hiding something from me.

“Dave, what's on your mind? Like actually, something is clearly bothering you,” I was growing impatient with his vague answers, I wanted to know the truth.

Dave sighed, thinking for a moment before speaking, “Well, you remember that night, tha=e first Metallica concert you attended, when I warned you about James, even though you two were already together,” and I nodded.

“Well, when he told you in that dressing room, I overheard it all. I was uhm.. Looking for you too. I got pissed that James had got to say something before I did, and uhm.. I had like.. The fattest crush on you when we first met.. And now that we've grown close again, I think I feel the same wa-” Dave was cut off as I kissed him on the lips, all of our unspoken feelings coming out for each other.

After I pulled away I moved some of his long ginger hair out of his face, gently caressing his cheek as I smiled softly at him.

“I've felt the same since we met too.”

Another influential night, all in this bar. The three times I've come here, three big things happen, always having to do with Dave.

That night was about three years ago now, and Dave and I have been together happily for those three years, now engaged and happier than ever. With the success of MEgadeth's latest album, ‘Rust in peace’, things have been going great for us. He showed me what real love felt like, to be cared for and cherished, all without getting judged.

I had gone to multiple shows with Dave at this point, and this was just another one. They were one of the headliners for a weekend-long festival, and I was more than thrilled to support my fiance.

I listened to loud chords of ‘Holy wars’ as the band began to finish their set, with me sitting backstage. I was at a table, my left hand that wore my gorgeous engagement ring was digging in my purse, until I heard familiar steps behind me.

And then a voice.

“Are you..” I cut them off.

“James? What are you-” I was now in turn cut off by him.

“I'm playing a show. What are you doing here?” The frontman asked me. I was so shocked to have seen him, personally, that is. I knew Metallica would be having a show here, but it wasn't until the next night.

As if the timing was perfect, after James questioned me, Megadeth had come off stage, Dave rushing towards me. “Hey baby, did you like the show?” He asked, leaning down to kiss the top of my head.

“Yeah, it was great..” I answered, still dumbfounded. James looked even more dumbfounded than I did.

Dave looked up, curious at the silence, “What's wro-” He cut himself off, his eyes meeting James.

Daves lips curled into a smirk, knowing now he has the best form of revenge for kicking him out all those years ago. That revenge was me.

“Nice seeing you, James. What's going on with you and my fiance?” Dave bit back a cruel snicker, watching as James just grew more and more confused.

“Oh.. I was just, uhm, saying hi,” James answered, trying to process everything.

I was avoiding James' eyes. How would I explain that after I broke up with him, I met up with his ex bandmate, moved in with him after remeeting, dated after a few months, and engaged after three years.

“Uh-huh… You guys know each other, yeah?” Dave teased, knowing the answer, just wanting to get a rise out of James.

James didn't want to give Dave anymore attention, just nodding.

“Gotta thank you a bit man, I doubt we would have ran into each other again if it wasn't for you being a prick like always,” Dave said bitterly, enjoying this game of shame on James.

James looked slightly guilty, just trying to ignore him.

Dave looked back to me, “Well, I need to go clean up a bit, you can find me if someones bothering ya, sweetheart,” he said to me sweetly, my eyes meeting his before he kissed my cheek and walked away.

James just stared at me for a moment before walking off in another direction, the rest of Metallica showing up finally, Lars leading the three of them, his eyes landing on me.

This was  going to be a long, long weekend.

[nowoyas]

Consummation Training (NSFW) (Original Work) (F/M/M)

Masterlist - Read on Ao3

A/N: welcoming in my poly OC trio from the novel I'm writing! some days you wake up and you spend literally like 12 hours straight hyperfocusing on your keyboard and it turns out pretty well I think. this is technically an AU of the novel that I wrote instead of working on the actual novel but I think it counts for something!

I could do sooooo much background worldbuilding here and I'm tempted to ramble about it separately but I will abstain from now. please enjoy!

Summary: The Prince's Familiar hated the Knight. She hated him for having all the skills she lacked, for convincing her that it would be better for the two of them to teach the Prince before his wedding, and of course, for being right.

There would be no courtesans in the Prince's bedchambers. Just the three of them, the student and the teachers, to ensure that the Prince would be ready to please his wife come wedding night.

Warnings: exhibitionism/voyeurism, threesome, technically sex magic, implications of pregnancy (non-explicit), there's at least one vampire present, biting/blood, multiple orgasms, double penetration, technically dubcon if you approach it from the wrong angle, porn with feelings, porn with left plot, fuckin uhhhh some dom/sub shit going on, honestly there's a lot going on here lmao

Word Count: ~6100

The Prince's familiar hated the Knight.

It was a matter of fairness: he hated her from the first day, after all, and though she'd tried to bridge the gap between them, the fact remained that she was a vampire and he was sworn to protect their prince.

So she hated him.

She hated his duty-sworn personality. She hated the glares he leveled only at her. She hated the deferential way he looked at the Prince, and the sweet-soft tone he used with him. She hated the way he took immediately to the gorgeous noblewoman the Prince courted and agreed to wed, and she hated it more for the fact that she was the only soul who knew the Prince would never be happy with her at his side. Right now, before any of that, she hated the Knight's deft fingers, torturously unlacing her corset after having undressed most of the rest of her.

The sweet-soft tone reserved for the Prince was muttering in her ear from behind as he worked. "I would appreciate it if you bared with me and relaxed a bit for this demonstration," he said. "We are honor-bound to this, for our Prince's sake."

The Prince in question sat across from her, eyes marked with interest at the show they put on. The Knight had her spread out between him, carefully detailing each step of the process until she was presented, naked, for her Prince to see.

His face was a churning red at the sight of her; as far as she was aware, it was his first time seeing any more of a woman than the modest daily-wear they were held to, which was why they were doing this at all. But they were not there just so it would not be the Prince's first time seeing a naked woman when his wedding night came, and so the Knight did not stop at undressing her.

"The first thing you should know is that every woman is going to be different. Our little familiar here is not going to respond the same as your fiancée might. You can ask her, outright, what she desires from you, but she is a Lady and may not answer you truthfully, if she gives you an answer at all."

"So what do I do?" The Prince's voice cracked with a dry throat. He cringed, then swallowed, apparently doing his best not to appear too interested in his Familiar's naked form. “If—if they won’t tell me what they, um, like.”

“There are ways that they’ll tell you without words. You’ll see by the time we’re done with her.”

Her walls clenched involuntarily at the thought. She knew better than to voice any trepidation here—the moment she did, the Prince would back out for her comfort, and unfortunately, the Knight was right when he’d told her the Prince would need this and it would be better coming from them than from some untrustworthy courtesan hired to do the work for them.

She shuddered at the thought of anyone else being put on display like this for her Prince, then again at the thought of how the rest of the night would go.

The Knight chuckled at her back, a low rumbling sound that infuriated her. “There’s one of them. You probably can’t see from over there, but she’s shivering.”

“Should we warm her up?”

Another laugh. “In a manner of speaking, your Highness. Now, as a rule of thumb, there’s a few spots that are nice to pay attention to, depending on your partner. Obviously, there’s the main act, but if you want to produce magical heirs, you want to make sure you’re not the only one cumming.” He brushed her hair out of the way, and then soft lips were brushing a spot behind her ear. Unprepared, she gasped, eyes fluttering closed.

She’d never laid with a man before, and now she was perched between one’s legs while another studied her.

“Tell him more about the magic involved here. You’re our resident expert,” the Knight mumbled against her flesh. When she didn’t respond, he continued: “Or else I’ll get a lot meaner with you.”

Teeth grazed a soft spot near her throat in warning, and she couldn’t stop the whine in her throat. “He’s—he’s right. There’s magic released during an orgasm. Some of our—our researchers have found links tying release with the magical potential of the child, and your best shot at an heir is—" Her words caught in her throat when the Knight found a particular spot on her throat that made her legs weak. "—sorry, it's to ensure that both of you release as much as possible during a session."

"Are you certain you're okay with this?" The Prince asked her as she screwed her eyes shut. She could not give the Knight the satisfaction of knowing he was doing a good job, not even for her Prince's sake. "You seem almost like you're in pain."

"Depending on you and your partner, pain isn't always a bad thing." The Knight's mouth left her neck to speak. "But she's completely fine. Isn't that right?" A hand slid up her bare stomach. The cold of his rings followed the warmth of his fingertips, and she firmly stopped herself from shivering this time.

"I'm alright, your Highness, just—perhaps a little bit embarrassed at the situation."

He was always quick to reassure her. "Oh, no! There's no need to be embarrassed, this is all purely educational, after all!" 

"If you're embarrassed now, wait until we move past the barest forms of foreplay," the Knight hissed in her ear. Then, louder, in that soft-sweet voice again: "Would you like first-hand experience with this, your Highness?"

She opened one eye to see her Mage's expression. His eyes were wide, cheeks more flushed than before at the suggestion. "Are you asking if I'd like to—"

"We exist for your benefit, your Highness, and I expected to have you directly involved at some point. Watching can only take you so far, after all."

The Prince's eyes met hers, and she nodded slightly, though she hated that she did. Anything for His Highness. Anything for her Prince. She could see him swallow, and then he was standing and coming to the pair of them. "Okay. If everyone's certain they're okay with this..."

"She's all yours, your Highness. Behind the ear, down the jawline, across the throat... they're all generally sensitive, although your Familiar here seems to be particularly so."

The Prince was close. He was leaning in, staring at her throat, and she shuddered in a way that nearly sickened her. Who was the vampire here? Who was the prey, and who was the predator? Not her, not anymore. 

"If it helps, you can kiss her. Typically, that eases one into it, your Highness."

"Is that okay...?" he whispered, and the Familiar nodded.

He slotted himself between her naked thighs, cupping her chin gently and capturing her lips in a soft, sweet kiss. She returned it, careful not to appear too eager even as her thighs twitched to close around his waist. 

It was true, he needed the practice: he was not a practiced kisser. She did her best to guide him in technique with her lips, to show him how to kiss her back. She knew by now that her Prince was a fast learner, and he exemplified it here: once he had a rhythm, his lips molded against hers, she felt teeth graze her lip, and damn it all, she moaned into his mouth.

He pulled back almost immediately, searching her face in a near-panic. “Was that alright?”

Her eyes drifted open a moment later. Shit. This was bad. “Perfect, your Highness. You’re doing wonderfully.”

“And you’re not simply telling me as much to appease me?”

“I exist for your benefit, your Highness. You would not benefit from me lying to you in this instance.”

The Knight’s hand squeezed at her side gently. She took it as an approval of her words.

“Okay. And if I—if I wanted to continue?”

“You have my full consent, your Highness.”

He exhaled a shaky breath, and then his mouth was on hers again. She was dimly aware of the Knight speaking behind her, delivering instructions to her Prince: how to move his lips, how to bite hers, how to slip his tongue in her mouth if he wanted to. She didn’t give him access, not at first, but another pair of lips attached themselves to her throat and bit, and in the shock of her moan, her Prince’s tongue entered her mouth to explore.

“Good girl,” the Knight hissed in her ear. The whine caught in her throat.

She nearly lost herself in it, but the Knight did something good for once: when she brought her hands up to pull the Prince in closer, firm hands slid down her arms and pulled her wrists to be held behind her back. 

“Hands to yourself,” he whispered, and despite herself, she moaned around the Prince’s tongue.

“Those noises she’s making are a good sign,” the Knight explained as the Prince pulled away for air. Her breasts heaved with her breath—she cursed herself for getting lost in the moment. If she wasn’t careful, she’d even begin to enjoy this, and she would not admit to enjoying it right now. “You want her to make noise. Not every partner will, and you’ll learn your wife’s signals well if you spend enough time with one another, but not only is this one sensitive, she’s noisy, too. Really, she’s perfect for teaching with.”

Oh no. He was not making her feel like this with his words alone. She struggled surreptitiously against his hold, but he merely laughed.

“Are you feeling better to move on to the next step, your Highness?”

“Yes.” 

The Knight nodded in approval, and the Prince left her with one last kiss before slowly, uncertainly moving towards her jawline.

This was torture. Where the Knight had been suspiciously skilled with his mouth, the Prince was slow and careful, lacking confidence in where he dragged his lips.

“Here,” the Knight said after a moment, “let me mark a good spot for you, your Highness.”

The Prince pulled away, and lightning-quick, a hand left her wrists to tug at her hair and crane her neck for him. She keened, and the Knight paused, chuckling. “Aw, apparently this one also likes having her hair pulled. It’s almost cute.”

“It is,” the Prince agreed. 

She was boneless as the Knight found a soft spot and sucked hard on it, writhing in his hold. He cursed as he popped away, satisfied with the mark he left. “Earth below, you are sensitive,” he growled as he released her wrists to wind an arm around her waist and hold her down. “See that mark I’ve left on her, your Highness? That’s a good spot.”

The Prince nodded, drinking in her expression, the subtle bounce of her breasts as she tried failingly to catch her breath. Her pride surged a bit at the tent in his pants, and when he slotted himself between her legs again to attack her neck, she jolted as that tent brushed against her dripping core.

This time, he did not stop at her whine, even as the Knight was admonishing her for being so squirmy. Instead, the Prince attached himself to the darkening spot on her throat, kissing, sucking, licking, even once biting her, until her head had gone fuzzy and a coil was tightening in her core.

She couldn’t help it—she squirmed against the Knight’s hold and the Prince’s ministrations. Her prince’s hands were on her hips, rubbing soothing circles there, and the Knight shifted to hold her thighs open before she wrapped them around her Prince’s waist. The immobility killed her—being held open for him, two pairs of strong hands holding her down, a low voice giving calm instructions in her ear, the delicious feeling of a mouth on her neck, it was all so much, and then she managed to buck her hips just a little against the Prince’s growing hardness, and he moaned against her throat, and the Knight bit down on her shoulder, and she needed, more than anything, to warn her Prince before he took it too far.

He beat her to it. His voice filtered into her mind, a feature of their little soul bond. ‘Still okay?’

‘More than okay, my Prince. If you keep this up, I’m going to—‘ Even in her mind, the words caught. This should not feel this good. She’d scarcely been touched, and here she was, moments from careening over the edge.

‘Isn’t that the goal?’ her Prince asked, and then he was biting down in a new place, and she was thrashing against the men’s holds, the coil in her stomach snapping, and she needed to grab onto something, anything for purchase. Her hands found the Knight's thighs behind her, and he cursed as her nails dug in. Her head dropped backward, onto his shoulder, and when she was back in her mind, she glanced up to see that her Prince was watching her with hungry eyes.

She shuddered.

"Back with us?" the Knight asked, and crooned her name. "I wasn't expecting you to cum just from having your neck kissed. Is it that you're truly that sensitive, or are you enjoying being watched?"

She wouldn't dignify him with a response. Not, at least, until he nipped at the shell of her ear.

"Both, I think," she managed between gasps.

Shit. She wasn't supposed to say that.

His eyebrows shot up in amusement. "Well, look at you. Nice and honest. Big change from how you normally treat me. We're not done yet, though, so catch your breath."

A low keen left her throat. This was shaping up to be an eternal sort of night.

"Was that good?" 

It was. It was extremely good. But she was nearly wordless, and she'd honestly hoped he was asking the Knight, but the Knight didn't answer him, either, merely clicked his tongue and shook his head. "Answer him." In the time it took her to search the soup of her mind for a response, all she came up with was a nod. That earned her a light slap to her inner thigh, and she jolted and whined. "Use your words."

"S-so good, my Prince."

When she looked, he had relaxed into a smile, but it wasn't the usual sort he afforded her: in the lighting as she finally caught her breath, he looked wicked. 

"Why whine over him hitting you?" he asked, innocent. "Are you that sensitive between the legs?"

"Mm," she managed as a reply. "Everywhere."

That earned her cruel laughter from the Knight, and his hands left her thighs. She was sure, if she looked, she'd see outlines of his hands on the pale skin there, but he merely nodded to the Prince to step back. "So, so honest. But we've got a lot of information to cover. Are you ready to move on, your Highness?"

"Please," he said.

"Good." Already she was tensing in anticipation. Hands slid up her sides, causing her to squirm as he cupped her breasts. "Now, this is yet another case where your partner may like this more or less than our little familiar here. Honestly, usually this is more for you than the sensation it gives your partner, but judging on how this one has been reacting—" He tweaked one of her nipples between two fingers, and her back arched into it. "—ah, there it is. She'll be good to play with and learn from, it seems."

He began massaging her breasts, and amid the sensation, she was a little proud that, as large as his hands were, her breasts were bigger. Already heat was pooling in her stomach as her Prince watched the Knight toy with her.

"Now, it's unusual that you end up with someone this sensitive. By now, you probably won't have come close to drawing an orgasm out of your partner. I'd encourage you to take your time and learn how best to pull them out. Combine your techniques. Let her feel your mouth, feel you worship her body. It's a wonderful body to get to worship."

At a sharp tug to her nipples, she whimpered and arched into it once more. She could feel the Knight's cock through his pants, heavy and hard against her ass, and fuck her, she was growing more and more desperate for any of it.

"She's so needy," he tutted. "But see how I cup her from below and pull? Come give it a try."

The Prince was fast as he returned to nest himself in front of her, and only one of the Knight's hands pulled away. The intent was clear: both men groped her, shame having left the room ages ago. The Knight's free hand again came to rest between her legs, achingly close to what she needed. Close enough, at least, that he lingered on the edge of where her wetness had soaked her thighs.

"As much as she's enjoying this, your Highness, I feel comfortable setting a goal for you to achieve tonight, if it pleases you."

Dread pooled in her stomach as her Prince's eyes dragged up from her chest. His lip was caught between his teeth. He was enjoying seeing her this debauched.

"Tell me."

"Since the goal is for you to learn how to please your partner, I'd suggest that we not move on from one stage to the next until she's come. Normally, this would be extraordinarily difficult, but she's easy. I think you'll have no trouble at all working her to completion until you've truly mastered something."

Oh, fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

His fingers, which had been rolling her right nipple between them, tightened their hold, and he pulled perhaps a bit tighter than he'd been intending. She gasped out a weak 'your Highness' in reply, and he glanced down at her.

"You're right. She is really easy. I think I can manage that."

He was actually going to do it. They were going to pull countless orgasms out of her—how many 'sections' had the Knight designated? Was he about to add more to the lesson plan just to torture her? Was she even going to survive the night, at this rate?

So caught in her thoughts, she didn't notice her Prince leaning down and capturing her nipple in his mouth until he was already there, until she was already moaning. 

"How—how much did you have planned, Sir—" She gasped before she got to his name, but he seemed pleased with the effort.

"You can just leave it at Sir tonight. The deference suits you."

That sent another pang of heat straight to her core. This was unbearable. Her Prince was groping her, playing with her nipples, sucking on her breast like a man who'd die otherwise, and the Knight was simply massaging her inner thighs, driving her insane with his words and how close he came each time to actually touching her. 

"To answer your question, we'll be going until he can make you come from these tits alone, then we'll be adding magic into the equation, which I expect you to teach him—"

"Me?" she interrupted. "You want me to—Moon above—" The Knight nipped harshly at her throat. Another bite mark to add to the collection. "While I'm getting my third orgasm of the night drawn out of me? Do you have any idea how—ah—"

The Prince was lost in his ministrations. Too lost, she thought, to notice the heated conversation she was having with the Knight. 

"Just as difficult, I'd imagine, as having to watch you fall apart again and again and not do anything about it," he growled in her ear. "Be good, and if you make it to the end of these lessons without passing out, you'll be rewarded by both of us."

A low whine.

"And after you've taught him how to incorporate his own magic into making you feel good, we'll teach him how to bring you to orgasm with his fingers, then with his mouth, and you'll teach him exactly how to work your clit, and then we'll see how you fare getting passed between us for educational purposes. And yes, I will be teaching him how to tease you."

Another whine. Her hips bucked a little—her Prince had pulled her tits out by the nipple, as far as they could tolerate, and let them fall weightily back to her chest. He did it again, enthralled with the way they bounced. He would be the death of her, she thought, if the Knight didn’t run her through first. “That’s… that’s a lot, Sir.”

“You’ll take it.”

“That’s six orgasms in a single night!”

“It’s seven, actually. You’re starting to let them cloud your mind already.”

Shit. It was seven. “That’s worse!”

“Like I said, you’ll take it, and you’ll be rewarded for your compliance at the end. You’ll do it because we are honor-bound to serve him, and you, especially, are going to serve him. Perhaps, by the time this is done, we’ll consider training him to have better stamina when it comes to his wife. Would you like that, little one?”

Another thing that infuriated her about him: he was taller than her. No one was taller than her. She was a vampire, and here he was, making her feel tiny.

Lips attached to an unmarked stretch of flesh on her throat. The Prince did not stop kneading her chest as she leaned into it. 

“Well? Would you?”

She thought about it, truly and honestly. Her Prince, kissing her neck, licking her neck, biting her neck, torturing her nipples with his soft hands. Such a stark contrast to the Knight’s calluses catching the skin of her thighs. 

She felt the cock pressing into the apex of her thighs, the fabric she was certainly dampening, and the cock pressed into her back, and her mouth watered. What would training his stamina entail? Fucking her over and over, until he couldn’t take anymore? Allowing her to get on her knees before him and take his cock into her mouth? Would the Knight train her on his cock, first, to ensure she knew how to suck him properly? Would he watch the entire time? Continue to instruct them on how to please one another?

A harsh twist to her nipple had her crying out and jerking. ‘Answer him. I want to hear you tell him what you want.’

And oh, was that delicious. Momentarily, she forgot she was serving her Prince, simply Serving, and she nodded. “I would. I want it. I want it. I—“

‘Good girl,’ her Prince echoed in her mind, and she snapped again, somehow cumming harder than before. He was a fast learner, for sure, and for once, she feared that more than she took pride in it.

“You really are perfect,” the Knight cooed as she came down from her second high. “Not many who cum just from having their breasts played with or their neck kissed. Now go on. Teach him how to use magic to make you feel good.”

Her mind was entirely blank. He was her student, where magic was concerned. This was not a strange request, to teach him how to use magic. But its application to sex? She’d never had normal sex before this. Never even considered the application of magic to fucking her. She stammered something out, did her best, but it only earned a sympathetic coo from the Knight.

“You don’t know, do you? Have the orgasms made you dumb, or have you never brought it into play before?”

She merely shook her head.

“Aw. Well, I’ll just have to teach him, once we’ve shown him how to punish a disobedient partner.”

Her whole body shivered at that. Punish?

“Oh, she likes that idea. How about you, your Highness? Would you like to learn how to punish her properly?”

He nodded. “Signing on to help teach me, then not even teaching me when asked. I think she’s earned it.”

Oh no. He was becoming cruel, too. 

Before she knew it, she was being expertly bent over the Knight’s lap, ass perked up for easy access.

“This is one way I like to punish them, your Highness,” he said, and then she was keening as a sharp smack landed on her flesh. Several more followed in quick succession, her body jerking with each one. When he was done, he rubbed soothing circles into the raw red, cooing sweetly over her. “You want to make sure to cup your hands like this, see? There’s good ways to hurt her and bad ways to. This is one of the good ways. Isn’t that right?”

Tears slipped down her cheeks, and she nodded. “Mhm.”

Another smack. “How did I tell you to address me?”

She sobbed, and she moaned. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good. Your Highness, let’s see how you hit her.”

Several more smacks against her ass, these less certain, less practiced. He kept going until tears streamed down her cheeks, and then a bit more as he perfected his technique. She’d lost count from the moment her Knight had landed several.

“How is that, darling? Feel good?”

It did. It was humiliating, her cheeks burned, but it was good.

“I think so. Look at her; she’s making a mess of the floor.”

Callused fingertips collected juices running down her thighs. “Oh, yeah. She’s enjoying this. How many was that, little one?”

“Seven… seven… teen?” She honestly wasn’t sure. Seventeen seemed like a good number.

When he let out a dark laugh, her heart stopped. “Your Highness, since she got it wrong, may I show you another good way to punish her?”

“By all means.”

She was maneuvered into sitting up. The fat of her ass was raw from all the hitting. Her Prince soothed her with kind words and a wandering hand, a gesture which helped only until she realized her Knight had undone his belt and taken out his cock.

It was bigger than it had felt. Her mouth watered at the sight, and when he beckoned her over with a pat on his lap, she moved automatically. He positioned her over him, pressed himself inside, and she keened as she sunk down on his length.

“Make her wait for it,” he explained, and suddenly, she understood.

He did not move. In fact, he was busily explaining to her Prince how to heat and cool his fingers to add an extra layer of play to her nipples. It was good, and she moaned and panted and arched, but still the Knight did not move.

“See how desperate she’s getting, just from sitting on my cock, your Highness? Let her sit there a while, and soon, she’ll be apologizing for what she did and begging for you to fuck her.”

She would do no such thing. Not for him. She felt him twitch inside her, and she ached for friction, but received none. Simply his hand, pressing healing magic into her ass until the raw fire turned into a dull, pleasant sting.

One day, she’d get him back for this. Find some way to punish him for treating her like a toy to be played with. He was hot and big and filled her deliciously and he wouldn’t move and someday she’d get down on her knees in front of him and take him into her mouth and leave him groaning until she came off him and didn’t finish him.

…fuck. She was thinking about sucking his cock. She’s already lost.

“Now, you can’t tell, but you can actually feel her walls moving around you like this. That’s how, even when she’s being a brat, you can tell that she’s enjoying this.”

Oh, fuck you.

“Have you got a handle on the temperature play?”

“I think so. How’s she holding up?”

“You’re doing a good job. Every time you pull her nipple like that, she flutters around me. I think she likes having her tits played with. You could probably lay her down and fuck yourself between her tits and she’d come from that alone.”

She couldn’t help the flutter in her stomach at the thought, nor at his low rumble. “Oh, she really likes the idea of that.”

“Might I feel?”

The Knight pulled out of her, and she nearly sobbed, a broken wait leaving her mouth as she was suddenly emptied.

“First, let’s look at how to get her off with your hands…”

Fucking hell. Okay. They were both good with their fingers. The Knight showed him how to curl them to drag another orgasm out of her, then laid her down and showed her Prince how to work his tongue around her clit and move it inside of her. Each time, she was quicker to cum, quicker to cry out and clench around them. 

When at last, the Knight pinned her down on the bed so the Prince could watch him fuck her, she nearly sobbed all over again.

“I can’t—I can’t take anymore,” she gasped out. “It’s too much.”

“You’ll take it just fine,” he said simply, and that was the end of that before he shoved himself inside. 

He set a slow pace at first, explaining patiently between grunts how to move his hips, how different speeds were good for different things. 

“Like this, it’s slow. Intimate. It’s a good way to show your love.” He looked away from the night to glance back down at her, fuck-drunk, eyes almost fully-lidded as she stared up at him. 

She pulled him down into a slow kiss.

What was she doing? This was not in the plan. This was the exact opposite of the plan.

And yet, the Knight kissed her back, slow and sweet, one hand cupping her cheek. When he pulled away, his gaze lingered on hers for a moment before he remembered what he was doing. “See? Like this, you don’t even have to say it. Would you like to try, your Highness?”

The Prince must have nodded, because the Knight gave her one last kiss as he pulled out. She lay there, staring at the two of them. Watching as the Knight kissed the Prince slowly. 

“That,” he said, “was meant for you, my Highness.”

He didn’t miss a beat. He kissed him right back, just as slow, just as sweet. “Keep it. I’ll get my own.” 

Then, he was climbing over her, carefully guiding himself to insert his cock into her. He was pretty, his cock deliciously long and on the thinner side. She thought she caught a glimpse of a vein before he entered, and then he was setting a slow, torturous pace. 

And gods above and below, she was thrilled at it all. She was sore, whimpering, overstimulated, but when he slid himself inside and kissed her, it felt right. She kissed him back, eager and slow, letting him take his time and figure himself out.

She didn’t even notice the tears sliding down her cheeks.

‘I don’t want you to marry her,’ she whispered in the back of his mind, and his hips stuttered. ‘I love you.’

He paused inside her, pulling away to stare at her with wide eyes. “I never thought you’d admit that,” he said, and it was now that she realized: she fucked up.

There was a weight next to them on the bed. The Knight, sitting beside them, lacing his fingers with hers. “Did she tell you?”

“She did.” He nodded.

“That’s a good girl,” he whispered, and planted a kiss on her crown. “You should know, there is nothing forbidding a Prince from wedding his familiar.”

It was her turn now to freeze, as her Prince began to work his hips inside her again. “What?”

“What he said. I will be the King. I can marry whomever I want.”

She couldn’t process it. She didn’t know how many orgasms she’d had that night, but clearly she wasn’t thinking clearly, because that could not be what they were implying.

“If I decided that, say, I wanted to take my Familiar and my Knight into my bed, not as partners in sex, but partners in marriage, there is nothing which would prevent me from doing so except the desires of those partners.”

His hips were picking up the pace, and still, she was staring at him, dumbfounded. He paused suddenly, pulled out.

“Marry us,” the Knight said and lifted her. She was being maneuvered, contorted until she faced the Knight, not the Prince, and two cockheads lined up at her entrance.

“Why—why you?” she managed, eyes wide at the Knight’s face. “Why both of you—why any of this?”

“Because we love you,” the Prince whispered in her ear from behind. “Because we’re going to be together the rest of our lives, him sworn to me and you bound to me, and because I want that to be in a capacity not just as my servants, but as lovers and partners in ruling.”

One of the cocks slid into her, and she moaned quietly. “Even—even Sir—“

The second joined in, stretching her beyond what she thought was capable. Again her head dropped back, mouth hanging open.

“Yes, I love you. You’re brilliant, and kind, and as much as I hate you, I cannot imagine a life without you. Either of you. I would not choose it if I could.”

She was speared with two dicks at once. Before tonight, she had been a virgin, and now, she was unable to think, unable to process anything except the feeling of being so full and the kisses being pressed against the back of her neck.

“Say yes,” her Prince mumbled against her skin. “Tell me I don’t have to marry her. Tell me not to, and we’ll stuff you senseless, and then I’ll go straight to my desk and draft a letter calling off the engagement.” He began to move inside her, achingly slow, until he was nearly entirely out. As he pushed back in, the Knight, too, began to move, and she let out a long moan. 

“Say yes,” her Knight gasped out. “Fuck, you’re tight. Tell him to call off the engagement, love. Please.”

A lifetime with them. Every night in their shared bed.

“I love you,” one man whispered.

“I love you,” the other man groaned.

It was all too much. They were moving, faster and faster they were moving, and her teeth gleamed in the moonlight. She needed to bite to think. She needed blood on her lips to make sense of anything.

She lurched forward and bit down on the Knight’s shoulder as they fucked her, and he groaned and fucked her harder. They’d established a rhythm, and the feeling of flesh beneath her teeth was all that kept her sane in light of that rhythm. When she had her fill and was sure she hadn’t killed him, she lathed her tongue over the marks, and she sighed.

“Yes,” she mumbled into him. “Fuck me harder, fuck me senseless, and I’ll marry you both. Please, please, please—“

One of them came.

She couldn’t tell you which one, but it didn’t quite matter, because the other followed not long after, and she was flooded with their hot seed, and then she was cumming around them, and both men groaned. The Knight had to hold her up, the Prince holding her back as she thrashed something violent, and when they both pulled out and all three laid alongside one another on the bed, she cried with overwhelm.

“It’s so much,” she managed as one stroked her hair and the other danced magic-laden fingertips over her to soothe her. “It’s so much.”

“We’ll bathe, and we’ll rest in the few short hours before morning, and then we’ll work out the plan,” her Prince promised. “First to call off the engagement, then to make this one official. You’ll make a wonderful Queen, my love.”

She let out a little guttural noise. There were hardly any words left in her, except one important question: “There is no possible way that was your first time.”

“It wasn’t.”

“It was hers, though,” the Knight said, amusement playing in his voice. “I think we’ve ruined her for anyone else. What do you think, my Prince?”

“Good. She’ll never be with anyone else.” The Prince trailed fingers over her bare shoulder with a loving sigh. “And, ideally, neither will we.”

Tags: @deeplightgarden @idonthaveanameideayet @dusstory

If you'd like to be tagged, shoot me a message or an ask, or ask here in the replies, tags, or reblogs and let me know what you'd like to be tagged in (all works, all works specific to a character, all smut works, etc.).

As always, thank you for reading! <3

[fiona-fififi]

...

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

choosing violence 10 + 16 + 22 !!!! >:333

ok u didnt specify a fandom but im just gonna do this for pd because its front and center in my mind !!!!!! oh boy i cant wait to be crucified for my opinions

10. worst part of fanon

this is a problem with every jrwi campaign and also like. most . other fandoms to be real. but it seems like my favorite characters are always the ones that get the worst of the mischaracterization beam -_- i cant tell you HOW MANY fics ive opened bc the premise sounds cool only to IMMEDIATELY close it due to "he would not fucking say that" this isnt pd but if i have to read one more fic that infantilizes gillion for not understanding Land Things im going to blow up. hes stupid sometimes yeah! but hes not ignorant and hes not a baby hes like. literally the oldest one on the crew even if its only by a year or two. head in hands

16. you can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc)

ok im gonna get burnt at the stake for this one but i personally dont really see the appeal of tfem ashe... like i see the appeal yeah of course i do i just dont get why people are so like... weirdly forceful and passive aggressive about it? also this is totally a personal thing no hate to anyone that does this but its kind of a peeve of mine when ppl write analysis posts ans use their headcanon pronouns like.... if u are going to talk about and analyze canon then talk about canon !!!! i cant tell u how many good ashe posts ive skipped over bc im like. we are talking about different characters here .. respect to ashe tfemers and everything but its not for me

22. your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores

THERE IS A DISTURBING LACK OF CLARENCE ALBERT FAN CONTENT. WHY ARE PEOPLE NOT MORE INSNAE ABOUT CLARENCE ALBERT. HELLO???? am i the only person that feels this way . can anyone hear me its so fucking dark in here. every day i just want to read a fic about clarence albert and i am met with this

and neither of them are . interesting to me. hell on earth. bizly PLEASE give me more clarence lore in season 3 im fucking starving.

[ssreeder]

I'm so looking forward to iroh and zuko properly talking and seeing irohs reaction to zuko being gay.

Like we all know he doesn't agree with the fire nation rn but how will he react?

Will he not support him cause sokkas a guy? Will he not support him because it's SOKKA? Will he accept him? Will he reveal he's known for years zuko was gay?

Especially with everything that happened with zhao, regarding to what jee said to bato on their date. (Which is a very understandable perspective, zuko just got out of this very sexually traumatising situation and almost immediately starts a relationship (his first relationship) with sokka, but then again it is a very unique situation)

One thing I love about some atla fics is how they portray the FNs thoughts on queerness, cause on one hand they were one of the only country's (I think) that treated men and women the same but then again it's also the fucking fire nation.

And I also think zukos whole canon arc can be very comparative to queerness,

His dads an asshole and after speaking out against him he throws him out, and zuko try's for 3 years to regain his father's love and acceptance, and then faced with the opportunity of regaining it takes it immediately regardless of who or what he may hurt (iroh, his own morals etc) but once he makes it back home realises how fucked up everything is and eventually confronts his dad and openly tells him he doesn't agree with him then runs aways.

I also wonder if iroh secretly knows jee is queer it doesn't seem that likely to me but it also is iroh so who knows.

<3

I do think Iroh’s reaction will be a big moment for not only the story but for Zuko’s character development. Right now, Zuko’s technically still a prisoner, holding himself there by assuming Iroh will not understand or judge him when in reality he’ll never know what his uncle is thinking until they TALK ABOUT IT. (Which the FN royal family is just sooo good at healthy communication I don’t understand why this is so hard for them lol?!)

I do agree that the suddenness of the relationship combined with the intensity from both zuko and Sokka is very alarming for people looking at it from the outside (I mean we all totally get it cause we were there but others are like uhhhh hmmmm ok this might be concerning) so I get them gossiping and wondering if this is truly real or what the fucks going on with those boys.

I love Zukos canon arc because there’s just so much about zukos story that can be relatable no matter who you are and I think that’s why he is a fan favorite (it doesn’t explain why we torture him the way we do but ehhhh it’s fine haha)

Hmmmmmm does iroh know Jees gay? Depends on how saucy those music nights got ;)

[moonscape]

i don't really like confessions blogs because i feel like they just fuel the fire for fandom discourse but ngl i agree with pretty much everything that's been posted on the is*t one so far so i'm okay with it for now lol 👍

[omarwolaeth]

So there's a fic, right,

Fan art for Dramaturgy: Standard by @team-frightfur of Chapter 33

[kiekiecarrera]

She’s not even sure what that conversation means in the first place. They’ve talked about the future before, in grand declarations of wealth and wild hyperboles of a life where they’re kook rich and living their most obnoxious dreams. But they’d never talked about a shared future, before the Coastal Venture. One that only involved the two of them. It’s too big, too scary, too important to really think about.

JJ knocks his knee with hers on the bed.

She tells them she’s not ready to go home and face her parents yet. That they’re making their way to Kildare, but might take a little longer than expected. None of them argue.

JJ keeps his gaze fixed on their knees.

all my friends are bad kids (link in source)

[ticklishlasquadra]

Sooooo, guess who wrote a self-indulged fluffy little tk fic involving their Baldur’s Gate OC, Atticus?

Me. It was me.

Featuring Halsin, because I love him sm. Sooo, hope you like it! Picture of my OC is under the cut 💛

Pairing: Halsin x OC

Word count: 1000

Atticus let out another sigh as he stared up at the sky from his place on the ground, lying on top of a blanket. His arms were folded under his head in lieu of a pillow. The others had left the camp to go explore, and Atticus was all alone.

Or so he thought.

“Something troubling you?”

Atticus lifted his head to see who that smooth, deep voice belonged to, even though he already knew.

“Ah, Halsin, hello,” he greeted the big wood elf politely. Atticus was quite fond of his fellow druid, as was Halsin of him, even more than fond. Of course, everyone knew this except for Atticus himself. Call him obtuse, but every attempt at flirting from Halsin was taken as mere friendly compliments.

“You were sighing rather loud. Is everything alright?” Halsin’s voice was warm, sprinkled with concern.

Heat warmed Atticus’ cheeks, a light pink mixing in with his freckles. “Yes, I’m alright, nothing to worry about. I’m just bored. Staring at the sky can only entertain someone for so long.”

Halsin chuckled at that. “Fair enough. Though I myself find it rather relaxing.”

Atticus knew Halsin loved to meditate and could sit in complete silence for the whole day if he was allowed.

Atticus gave him a wry smile. “I guess we aren’t so similar after all, huh?”

Halsin hummed in response. “You look comfortable there, is it alright if I joined you?” With Atticus’ approving nod, he laid down next to him. It was humorous, as the blanket was barely big enough to accommodate one of them, much less both of them.

They laid in silence for a few moments before Halsin spoke. “Ah, if you’d like, I don’t mind if you come a little closer. You’re practically half off the blanket.”

Atticus glanced down, seeing that Halsin was right. “You have a good point, thank you.” He scooted closer to Halsin until his arm was touching his.

Silence fell over them once again. Atticus could feel himself zoning out, so when he felt a gentle brush against his bicep, he was taken by surprise.

“Sorry, sorry, I did not mean to startle you. I just find the the freckles on your arms very…charming,” Halsin said. “If it is alright, I’d like to touch them more.”

Atticus felt the blush returning as he gave another affirmative nod. “Sure, go ahead,” he replied, his mouth feeling a bit dry.

Halsin gently wrapped his hand around Atticus’ wrist to keep his arm extended. His fingers then started to explore, tracing a nonsensical pattern over his many freckles. Atticus couldn’t help but snort.

“Everything okay?” Halsin looked over, smiling.

Atticus masked another snort with a cough. “Yes, your touch just feels a little sensitive.”

“Sensitive? Are you ticklish, Atticus?” Halsin’s fingers moved down his forearm and back up again.

Atticus tried to muffle himself, but his mouth betrayed him, a small giggle leaving his lips. “Ticklish? I’m not sure, I haven’t been tickled since I was a small child.”

Halsin’s hand stopped, resting warmly on Atticus’ arm. “Would you like me to test that for you?” The hand wrapped around Atticus’ wrist lifted his arm, pinning it above his head.

“Okay, but I’m not sure you’ll prove much,” Atticus said nervously, as if he wasn’t just giggling.

Halsin’s fingers glided up Atticus’ arm, making him squeak. They moved up and up until they rested just under his arm. “What do you think would happen if I…” He tapped his fingers.

A laugh caught in Atticus’ throat and he started squirming.

“Why don’t we find out?” Without warning, Halsin dug his fingers into the other Druid’s armpit.

Atticus immediately started laughing, his body rolling from side to side. “Hehehehey!!” he squealed, his legs kicking out as if that would stop the sensation.

Halsin kept his arm pinned, though Atticus didn’t seem to be trying all that hard to tug his arm back. “Oh, I think this shows that you are QUITE ticklish,” he teased, fingers spidering just underneath Atticus’ armpit before going back up.

Atticus squeaked and yelped and cackled until Halsin finally had mercy on him. He guided Atticus’ arm back down, but still kept a gentle hold on his wrist. Leftover giggles filled the silence, Atticus still feeling the ticklish aftermath.

“I hope I was not too harsh in my little test,” Halsin said.

Atticus shook his head, aware that his hair was now a bit of a mess from moving around so much. “No, not harsh at all. That was just different than what I’m used to. It was…nice.”

Although Atticus had not shared much about his past, Halsin knew enough to know it was not all that pleasant, and physical affection was not common. For a moment, neither of them said anything. Then Halsin lifted Atticus’ wrist, pressing his lips to the soft skin.

“Then I shall do it however much you’d like.”

Butterflies fluttered in Atticus’ stomach. When Halsin saw that the action did not bring any sort of rejection, he let go and leaned forward, gently covering Atticus’ lips with his own. Halsin’s lips muffled Atticus’ gasp, but he didn’t pull away. In fact, he kissed back, the kiss being as light as a soft caress.

It was Halsin that broke the kiss first, giving the other a sheepish smile. “If it was not obvious already, I like you, Atticus. Very much. And we could go at your pace if you were alright with the idea of us being together.”

Atticus felt like he was in a dream. A wonderful, fantastic dream.

“If you need time to think it over, I understand-“

Halsin was silenced with another kiss, this one longer and less chaste than the first.

“Yes, one thousand times yes!” Atticus’ heart thrummed with excitement.

Halsin wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close until Atticus’ head rested on his chest.

After a while, the two started to doze, only being woken by a loud “Finally!” as their companions returned.

[mystery-moose]

[FIC] The Rehearsal [1,600 words]

Link: AO3 Rating: T Characters/Pairings: Karlach/Tav (Tarlach? Kav?) Word Count: 1,600 Summary: Everyone knew Karlach's time was limited, Karlach most of all. They tried not to think about it, most of the time, but a stray curse from a mummy-lord gives them a look forward. Astarion makes a suggestion. Shadowheart does her best. And Karlach says goodbye to her love -- if only for a moment.

///

The final ghoul lurched forward, its pale eyes staring blindly ahead. Its mouth lolled open, revealing a rotten tongue swarming with maggots as it reached out, grasping.

Sevistur shifted his weight and brought the full force of his strength down with his glaive. A brief flash of golden light parted the unholy creature in two, and a spatter of greyish-green gore struck his armor and the side of his face. He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw as he stood. Not for the first time, he reflected that every story of courage and heroism he’d ever read had failed to capture its… texture.

“Right,” he sighed, grimacing and wiping off his face — oh, gods, he could taste it. “That’s the last of them. Everyone alright?”

He glanced around the room. Astarion was currently wiping his soiled daggers on any available surface. Shadowheart was prising the head of her spear from a fallen zombie’s throat. And Karlach—

“Babe?”

She staggered, leaning heavily on her halberd. Her knuckles were pale, and her whole body trembled.

“I… I think I’m—”

She seized suddenly, and choked as she bent over and vomited up a mixture of blood and necrotic bile.

Sev was at her side in two long strides, catching her as she fell to her knees. A flash of terror seized his heart in a vise, but only for a moment — this wasn’t their first near-death experience. Light seeped through the joints of his gauntlet as he laid a hand upon her chest…

…and Karlach seized harder, rippling muscles in her arms and shoulders spasming, her eyes shut tight as she bit down a scream.

He stripped off the gauntlet from his hand and tossed it away, pressing his bare hand to her skin. The light poured off his hand, bright and searing, the power of his devotion made manifest—but all she did was cough up more blood, turning her head so she didn’t drown in it as she threw it up on the floor.

“Shadowheart!” Sevistur called, unable to keep the panic from his voice.

She was by their side in moments, her helmet off and her hands hovering above Karlach’s body. She closed her eyes, murmured a prayer. Then she looked up at him, somewhat stricken.

“I can’t,” she said simply. “It’s a curse. A powerful one. But…”

“What?!”

She broke eye contact, looking towards Karlach instead. “It’ll break when she dies.”

Sev’s lips lifted in a snarl, baring his teeth, until he saw her hands begin to weave another spell. Realization struck, set him reeling, and suddenly, bewilderingly, he wanted to laugh.

He took Karlach’s hand in his and squeezed. Her skin should have been hot on his, even through his leathery skin, but instead it was cool, and growing cooler. The engine in her chest was creaking to a halt as the life in the rest of her was being sucked dry.

“You hear that?” he asked.

She squeezed his hand back hard enough to bruise. She sucked in a gasp, her breathing shallow and short. Her yellow eyes opened and found his, and through what must have been unimaginable pain, she smiled.

“I’m dying,” she said, and laughed.

“Yeah,” Sev said, and couldn’t help but smile back. It was reflexive, instinctual. She could drag it out of him in the sourest moods.

“What else is new,” she mumbled, tensing up again with a hiss.

“It’ll be alright,” he said gently. “Shadowheart’s right here. She’ll bring you back.”

“Right. Won’t be a moment.”

She clenched her teeth through another wave of pain, and her grip on Sev’s hand trembled. As it subsided, she laughed again.

“How fucked up is this?” she asked.

“Which part?” he asked.

“The part where — where you get to do this twice?”

A muscle in his jaw jumped. “I don’t intend to.”

“Babe—”

Sev leaned down and kissed her, smothering whatever objection she might have been about to raise. He tasted blood and sweat and bile on her lips, and he didn’t care. She reached up and pulled him deeper into the kiss, her practiced fingers weaving deftly around the crown of horns at the back of his head.

When they broke apart, Sev forced another smile. “Let’s not fight, dear. It would ruin the moment.”

Karlach stifled a sob. “Fuck you,” she said, her voice wet and her eyes twinkling with endless affection.

Astarion hovered in the periphery. He’d pulled his hood back and sheathed one of his daggers, the other dangling casually from his hand. He caught Sevistur’s eye, his expression neutral. He glanced down at the blade, then at Karlach, then back to Sev, questioning.

The suggestion was logical. Practical. Even merciful. He still had to stifle another wave of fury and revulsion as he glared at Astarion. For his part, Astarion sneered, but sheathed the weapon and stepped away.

Karlach shook in his arms again, her shoulders quaking. Her grip on his hand grew noticeably weaker. “Babe…”

“I’m here,” he said, quickly turning his attention back to her. “I’m right here.” She relaxed somewhat, blood dripping from the corner of her mouth. “This sucks.”

Sev nodded. “Yeah.”

Something in him — his oath, his arcana — felt her body start to give out. “Could be worse,” he said.

She gave him a dazed look. “Yeah?”

“At least you go out looking good.”

She laughed a laugh he’d never heard from her before — pained and weak, without much enthusiasm. “Right. I look great, I’m sure.”

Sev regarded her. She was stained with blood, her own and her enemy’s. Her one good horn curled out of a mass of sweat-matted hair. Her red skin was growing ashen. Her yellow eyes, normally alight with passion and good humor, were starting to glaze over.

“Gorgeous,” he said, and meant it as much as he’d ever meant anything.

Karlach’s eyes drifted, searching, until they found his gaze. She reached up and touched his face, drawing her fingers across his golden-brass scales.

“I’ll miss you, soldier,” she whispered.

“Won’t be a moment, remember?” he murmured.

“Miss you anyway.”

He bit back a laugh, feeling hysterical. “Me too.”

Sev squeezed her hand. Karlach squeezed back, and he barely felt the pressure.

“Love you,” she said, her voice barely audible.

Her hand dropped from his. Her pupils contracted to pinpricks, then dilated wide as they lost focus. He felt her engine sputter and stop.

She was cold. Heavy. Dead weight across his knees. He felt his legs start to fall asleep, prickling numbness in his thighs.

Then Shadowheart murmured a prayer, drew her hands together, and slammed them against Karlach’s chest. There was a burst of pale blue light, and Karlach’s eyes shot open as she surged forward, gasping.

“Fuck me!” she said, folding at the waist and clutching at her chest. “Holy shit , that hurt!”

“Did it?” Shadowheart asked, halfway between concerned and curious. “Sorry, I’ve never done that before.”

“Hopefully you’ll never have to get good at it,” Sevistur said, laying a hand on Karlach. This time, as light poured from his palm, he could feel her body respond, wounds within and without knitting back together.

She pressed her hand against his and turned to look at him. Something in her eyes struck him so hard he nearly flinched, but she banished it with a smile.

“Hey, you,” she said.

“Hey,” he replied, and smiled back.

“Well that was needlessly dramatic,” Astarion said dryly from off to the side.

“Pots and kettles meet,” Shadowheart said pointedly, levering herself to her feet with her spear.

Astarion gasped, feigning tremendous offense, and Karlach laughed. The vise in Sev’s chest finally loosened its grip. He took Karlach’s hand as he rose, and levered her to her feet.

“Thank you,” she said, quietly, just for him.

“Always,” he replied.

They moved on. They looted the bodies, as was routine. When Thrumbo and the other undead poked their heads into the house, Sevistur assured them of their safety and freedom. Shadowheart checked in with Karlach several times to make sure all traces of the curse had dissipated. Astarion was plucking rings and jewelry from the fallen mummy-lord with a discerning eye, discarding those he deemed “gauche” into a bag of loose wares to sell at the market later. And Karlach was all smiles once again, with nothing but some stiffness in her shoulders and back and a bad taste in her mouth to show for the experience. She joked about it later, that she’d had worse bouts of food poisoning after a night at the Singing Lute, and far less pleasant hangovers.

But Sevistur noticed how she kept closer to the others the rest of the day. Touched them more, in small ways — a brush of the hand, a bump of the shoulder, or a ruffle of Astarion’s hair (to which he always objected vigorously). And with Sev in particular, a peck of her lips when the mood struck. Not since a close call in the Grymforge had she been quite so desperate for the touch of others.

He knew why, of course. A potent reminder of how little time she had to enjoy herself had her wanting to fit as much life as she could into what she had. He watched her fight all day to fit as much joy as possible into her life, to live in the present rather than the past or future.

And somewhere deep in his soul, his oath, his devotion, sculpted itself around her even more.

They had their rehearsal. He vowed, down to the marrow, that he would delay the final performance as long as he could.

[no1ryomafan]

I do not bother to check if Getter and Big O ever interacted in SRW because I’m so use to the other mechas I like being in the same game as getter but being so different that they never have any story reasons to have interactions since Getter is only ever allowed to interact with mazinger, OG gundam and any other combiners + it’s all in untranslated hell so I won’t even know wtf was said if there WERE interactions but god damn it I keep rotating a scenario where Roger negotiates to get Ryoma out of jail even though I know for a fact that DIDNT happen despite how many times they used arma and how Z2 actually adapted it fucking correctly for once but it’s just so funny to imagine.

[jacksprostate]

this will be unpopular probably but idk i've been called slurs a time or two and it's personally uncomfortable to see... obviously do as you please in general but when interacting with me or my posts i'd really prefer if yall didn't casually use fag, etc in place of gay and stuff 👍

[olymphianblood]

ok guys its not funny anymore when is d&p hard lauching im starting to getting anxious /hj

[whoblewboobear]

It’s strange, I’m used to hyperfixating hard on things like HARD (beats my 2yr long beetlejuice musical obsession back with a stick) but Starbreaker- not even fantasy high itself took me over to the point of feeling like a teen about. Like I haven’t had this much fun in fandom in years. I haven’t like- interacted with people this much in fandom in years (which is still not enough but if I beat myself up about social interaction again I’ll jump off a cliff)

But there’s never been a concern of like “this obsession won’t fade for a while but it’ll lose popularity” and that’s fine and surprisingly it hasn’t. But it is different. It’s like adapting to it constantly as the thing itself changes even when there are aspects that you’d like to stay the same. Like that ‘I don’t go to this school of thought, but I’ll still take the class bc it’s interesting’ sorta thing.

And then there’s that feeling of WANTING to contribute but the thing has become such a beast that it’s like oooh I’m so out of my depths here.

Also like constantly having to look myself in the eye and be like ‘bitch you don’t have to talk or contribute to EVERYTHING’ and the sooner I accept that and accept that it is what it is, ill miss things, I won’t get enjoyment out of every aspect and every aspect isn’t for me and that that isn’t a bad thing, I’ll stop having moments of feeling weird and out of place. I have my lil corner and that’s okay

[the-judicial-assistants-notebook]

y'know, I've been seeing a lot more posts talking about how fanfic, specifically, puts characters into boxes and takes away the nuance of them, and while I think that's an important discussion to have, I also find it quite perplexing? Like, these posts seem to come from people who don't even, or maybe very rarely, consume fics in the first place, and I say that because, if you do consume fics semi-regularly, you kind of learn? how to gage what the stories and characterisation are going to be like based on the tags and summary? Sometimes, you do have to step into the fic to figure it out, but it hardly takes very long to realise if it gels with you or not. Idk, it's not anything serious or important, but it does give me... "girl, what were you doing at the devil's sacrament" vibes, you know?