#like there are wonderful people i like here but damn

[youngtacoes]

Strangers, no more

Cooper Howard aka The Ghoul x f!reader

Author's note: this is a long one !! i've had this scenario in my head for a long ass time and i just had to get it out on paper. cooper isn't as cruel in this one, sorry if that's not your thing, but he can be soft sometimes too! fyi: reader is 18+ and everything is consensual! If you're only here for the smut you can skip toward the end.

Word count: 6,8k

Summary: Cooper is a bounty hunter struggling for caps and you need to be transported safely across the wasteland in "good condition", luckily it pays well. What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: 18+ Mentions of r*pe, impregnation & torture, religious cult, angst, virgin!reader, losing virginity, graphic smut

~

It was getting bad, really damn bad. Days of good-for-nothing bounty jobs, vial after vial, cough attack after cough attack. He needed the caps desperately if he was to keep himself from turning feral anytime soon. He’d been taking small jobs here and there, just enough to keep himself at bay for a few days, but he knew he couldn’t keep going at this rate for much longer. He needed a bigger job, a bigger cash prize, a bigger bounty, but every time he stopped by the wall of people with prizes attached to them, he found himself disappointed in how low the numbers were. That is until he notices a fresh face staring back at him, hidden behind newer posters, large letters displayed across. "BIG JOB", and this one has an even larger number attached.

He steps forward, pushing the other posts away and rips the new face off the wall to study the number closer. Yup, he read it right.

Five thousand caps.

"Well, I’ll be damned," he muttered.

A young girl, maybe in her 20s. She looks well put together, innocent, and has a sincere smile on her face. For the first time in a very, very long time, he found himself wondering what her story was and why she was worth so damn much, but he didn’t like to dwell on it for too long. A job is a job, and this was going to be worth every damn cap.

On the poster, it states that she was to get picked up at the coordinates provided and to keep her in "good condition". Well, shit, that might just be the hardest part. The ghoul had never been one to take care of his captives, and most often he preferred if the poster stated "good dead or alive". This was definitely going to be different, and if it wasn’t for the "good condition" detail, he’d almost think it was too good to be true. Perhaps even think it was a trap.

~

It’s midnight, and you’re seated by your desk with a pen in hand, drawing carefully and concentrated on making art on this dirty sheet of old newspaper, but it was good enough for you. You drew flowers and insects from an old pre-war book about nature and their hidden treasures. You were always fascinated by the pre-war times, and though you will never know what it was truly like, you liked to imagine who you would’ve been back in those times.

It’s your way of forgetting about the current state of your life and the predicament you found yourself in. You were born in the wasteland, to a mother who did her best to protect you, but in the end, she had been brutally murdered by a group of raiders who attacked your farm, and you were taken captive by them at the age of 9. You spent a few horrid days with them before your current group found you and bought your freedom from them.

To be fair, you’ve been treated quite well by this group, and you thought you had a family in them at one point. That was until a few months ago when they decided you needed to be isolated from the rest for reasons you still didn’t quite understand. The leader of the group, Margot, had carefully selected you for a special assignment, and made sure to tell you the isolation was for your own good. Apparently you needed special treatment before a long journey to a sacred place called Halfway that was waiting for your arrival.

Your fellow peers would come and visit you to show their excitement, though you didn’t quite understand it, it must be something good with all the positive buzz that’s surrounding you. So your head got filled with all sorts of scenarios and dreams of where you were going and what luxuries you were to experience on this assignment. Though you had your doubts that it was all just a coverup for something else, you didn’t have any reason not to trust your group. They had been nothing but kind to you as long as you’d been there.

You’re startled out of your thoughts by heavy knocks on your locked door and a command shouted from behind.

"Lights out!"

You sigh at the command. "Yes madam!"

You don't bother packing up your drawing supplies, you'll be continuing with it tomorrow anyway, and the day after, probably. You find your bed and blow out the nearby candles.

Every night you can't help but wonder when your assignment and journey would begin. You had all sorts of feelings and questions about it, but every time you tried talking to Margot, she would give you answers that didn’t really answer anything at all, so you gave up on trying to figure it out a long time ago.

~

The next morning you’re awaken rudely by the guards coming into your room and practically dragging you out of bed in your dazed state.

"Wha- HEY-" you try to muster what’s going on, but before even getting a word out, you’re on your feet and Margot stands before you with her hands on her back.

"Morning lucky one. It’s time, the day we have waited long for is finally here," She's so serious in her delivery, it almost frightens you.

It’s happening.

"We’ve hired someone to transport you safely across the wasteland for your assigment, they’re here and won’t be kept waiting. Get ready in 5 and say your goodbyes, quickly."

Suddenly it feels like it’s all happening too fast, and a slight panic rise inside you. Margot must've notices your panicked stare, cause her features soften, and she steps closer to you.

"You’ve come so far, and I’m so proud of you,» She smiles at you with encouragement, "This is your moment, and I know you will succeed and make us all proud."

Her words give you enough to calm down before the panic escalated. And you give her a nod that you indeed got this. You can do this. You’ve done hard things before, this shouldn’t be any different.

"Yes madam," you say smiling back at her. She flashes you one last smile and a wink before turning and walking back out.

Outside you find everyone from your group waiting in the corridors. They smile at you, some coming to greet you, give you kisses on the cheek as you’re led out of the main building by the guards. It’s all a bit much, but this must be pretty big deal. Margot waits for you by the gate to your commune, but she's not alone. A dark figure stands just outside, looking impatient.

You’re filled with scepticism as you walk up them, but you have to put your trust in her. She notices you and takes a hold of your hands with a smile.

"You will do great," And the wave of panic that had a hold of you before, washes off of you completely. You nod confidently now, and you start believing that this is actually gonna be totally fine.

You feel the dark figure moving closer to you, his hat covering his face just enough to keep him anonymous for the time being. He still looks terrifying, but you have to trust this man is here only to protect you on your journey to Halfway, and that he will do his best to do so.

Margot shoots the man one last look, "Good condition," the man still doesn’t show his face, but he nods.

"Yes ma’am. Let’s go princess," You realize he’s talking to you, and you’re startled by the nickname at first, but you decide not to fuzz, at least not yet. He’s already started walking away, so you find yourself running up behind him, waving back to your leader for the last time, only she doesn’t wave back, she doesn’t even flash a smile. She stares back at you with a stern look as the gates to the commune come to a close.

It doesn’t give you the best feeling, but perhaps she was feelings sad you were leaving and didn’t want to show any emotions. Either way, you try to push the sight out of your mind, doing your best to follow the stranger. He doesn’t say a word for a long time, and you find that maybe it’s best we keep to ourselves for the time being, but as an hour or so go by, you find yourself a little curious.

You clear your throat, "Excuse me, sir?"

He doesn’t reply, but shoots a quick look over his shoulder to indicate that he’s listening.

"How long do you think we’ll be walking for?"

Given that Margot had given you absolutely no information about this journey, you figured it was worth a shot to ask your new strange companion.

"Couple’a days, if we don’t get sidetracked," His voice ragged, western, serious.

"Oh," not really sure if you dared asking for further details. You’d prefer to keep it peaceful for as long as possible, but you find the courage to ask anyway.

"Sidetracked by what?"

You hear him sigh, "Unnecessary bullshit."

‘Whatever that means’ you think to yourself. He doesn’t seem like the talkative type, but after months of isolation you find yourself rather desperate for someone to talk to, and if you are to spend days with this man, you figure it’s worth a shot trying to get to know him for whatever time you have to spend together.

"I see.. I’ll be on the lookout for that I suppose."

You can barely believe your ears when you hear a chuckle coming from the stranger in front of you.

After that positive feedback, you find yourself braver.

"I didn’t catch your name?"

His posture changes after the question left your mouth.

"I didn’t give to ya,"

"Well, I’m Y/N, but everyone calls me Lucky. It’s a bit of a recent nickname though. You see, I just spend 6 months in completely isolation-"

You get cut off abruptly when you find yourself crashing into the strangers back, realizing he's come to an complete halt. He turns around, his figure towering slightly over you. His hat is no longer doing it’s job to cover his face, and utter horror washes over you as it's fully visable in the golden hour light.

"Listen sweetheart, I’m here to do this goddamn job. I don’t wanna hear your whole life story, and you sure as hell won’t be hearing mine. How about we keep our histories to ourselves and try to get this over with as quickly as fucking possible. That sound good to you?"

Your eyes aren’t able to leave his face. His sunken eyes, skin looking like it's been melted by the sun, an obvious nose missing. A ghoul, a ghoul is transporting you. You’ve not met a ghoul before, and those you’ve heard stories of have been grotesque. Fair enough they had been feral, but who’s to say this one won’t turn?

You get the gist of what he’s saying, and simply nod in agreement, not wanting to make this trip any more uncomfortable than it already is.

His eyes bore into your own, and he’s a lot closer than you’d prefer. For a second you think his eyes dart down to your lips before he turns around to keep walking, but that would be crazy, and very disturbing.

~

Nightfall comes fast, and you’re finding yourself worried for where you’ll be sleeping for the night. You really don’t wanna ask the ghoul, but your steps are getting shorter and slower, and you think the Ghoul have noticed cause he starts walking off track and leads you to a broken down abandoned house off the road.

"Stay here," he says before entering the house, gun up, ready to shoot. You do as he says and wait patiently for him to clear the coast. It doesn’t take long before you hear squealing and two shots being fired. You’re not sure whether to go in or run, but it doesn't matter anyway cause you freeze up completely in these situations. All you can do is hope that the ghoul knows what he's doing.

He comes back to the door a few minutes later, gesturing for you to come in, you’re hesitant, but you do. It's not like you have much of a choice anyway, "What was the shooting about?"

In his left hand he holds a dead radroach, and you find yourself wondering why he’s holding it. That's so fucking gross.

"You should be grateful. I got us some lunch the road," he says, flashing you a smirk. It's almost like he knew you’d be repulsed by it.

"Uhm, y’know what? I think I’m good, for the time being." You try to be nice, but you feel like you might not have a say in the matter. This might be the only food you get for a while.

"Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll make a fire and we’ll put it on the grill."

You want to roll your eyes and complain, but you force yourself to give him a smile and if anything, show some appreciation. He did in fact just catch you a meal.

You’re able to swallow some of the grilled radroach, but after the fresh foods you had grown accustomed to from your commune, you found this hard to stomach.

Nightfall has fallen completely now, and you’ve done your best to make a comfortable sleeping spot by the fire. The ghoul sits nearby keeping watch, and you find yourself very curious of his past and who he is, or who he used to be. Thinking back to his speech earlier about keeping your histories to yourselves reminds you not to ask, but he didn’t say anyting about asking about where you were going.

"What do you know about Halfway?" You watch him closely for any hints he migth give away, "Is it as grand as everyone makes it out to be?" You lay on your side, arm resting under your head.

He doesn’t look at you, eyes fixated on the fire. "How about you get some rest, alright?" he avoids your question. How annoying.

You turn to lay on your back with a puff of annoyance. «Nobody wants to tell me anything,"

"Maybe there's a reason for that."

You turn to look at him, his eyes still not meeting yours. "What is that supposed to mean?" By the sound of it, nothing good.

"Look it's not my job to inform you of shit, and if your leader wanted you to know, trust me darling, she would've told ya."

His eyes flicker up to look directly at yours this time, and it catches you off guard. Not knowing what else to say, you decide to turn to your side, away from him. This whole thing is giving you a really bad feeling.

You’re back on track the next day. Your legs sore from the day before. Having been in isolation for 6 months will do that to you, you guessed, but you'll manage.

The ghoul hasn't said a word yet today, and though you didn't exactly get the answers you were looking for last night, you refused to give up completely.

"What did Margot mean when she said good condition?"

He doesn’t answer, of course he doesn’t. You sigh,

"Look, I don’t mean to be annoying. Truly, I’d just like to know what is waiting for me. That’s all, and I really don't see the harm in that." Still nothing.

"Hey! It’s not kind to ignore someone when they're talking to y-" The ghoul quickly turns, a rope firm in his hands. Where did that come from? He grabs your hands, tying them together before you’re able to protest.

"Hey- what’re you doing!?" You look at him in disbelief, anger and panic all in one.

"Trust me, it’s for your own good," You laugh at that, yeah right. Before you’re able to mock him, he takes out a piece of cloth and wraps it around your head, specially over your mouth, and it's keeping you from saying what's on your mind. For a second you’re actually fearing for your life.

"Listen, gorgeous. We’re about to pass through some dangerous territory, and the people in these parts would do a lot to get their hands on a pretty litte thing like yourself. You follow my lead and keep your mouth shut, can you do that for me?"

You look for any lies in his eyes, but you genuinely believe him. It’s not like you can argue against him anyway, but you put your trust in him and give a nod in response.

You walk for a short while longer before you actually start seeing other people on your path. They seem rough around the edges. Hostile, but not aggressive, yet anyway. You walk past a few who seem to be intrigued, but not interested enough to take their chance at battle with the ghoul. That is until a few of them start gathering in front of you. Four men stand before your path, making it impossible to keep walking without confrontation.

"Gentlemen, how do you do?" The ghoul seems to do his best to keep it friendly, not wanting to create an unnecessary conflict with precious cargo at risk.

"What’ve you got for us ghoul?" As you observe, you can tell some of them are clearly on heavy combat inhancing chems, might be a harder fight if it comes down to it.

"Delivery, to Halfway. Can’t lose this one I’m afraid." He says it so confidently, completely standing his ground, but still keeping it non threatening. The men seem intrigued, and even exchange laughs between themselves. You wonder what they find so funny.

"That religious sacrifice place? What a lucky girl,"

"Seems like she’s up for a hell of a good time,"

"Fellas, if you don’t mind, we’re on a bit of a tight schedule," The ghoul tries to interrupt their 'friendly' chatter, but to no avail.

"They only take virgins up there don’t they? That’s like their whole point?" One of the guys ask the other three.

"Yeah, it’s some crazy religious cult. They torture them and impragnate them for like 10 years or something, or at least that’s what I’ve heard."

You freeze at their words. That can’t be it. That’s not what’s been told to you. They’re joking, making it up to scare you. It’s not true.

"Crazy rich though, you must be getting a lot of caps for this huh?" Suddenly their tone is not so friendly anymore, but the ghoul doesn’t budge. He keeps his hand on his holstered gun, the other holding the rope that binds your hands.

"Lucky for you, we’re not looking to take her off your hands. This time anyway," They laugh once more, patting the ghoul on his shoulder before walking off, letting you pass. He pulls on the rope to shake you out of your frozen state, and you jolst forward, trying to keep up with him. But you're disassociating, not paying a single mind to anything around you. You're too much in your head about what was just said, and you'd like to say you didn't believe a single word, but for some reason you do.

You keep walking in silence, time becomes irrelevant when you're all up in your head. You don’t notice the radstorm closing in, nor the rain that has already started pouring. If anything is in your favor, it's that you pass by a town with an abandoned pre-war hotel that offer a room for 100 caps a night. For whatever reason, the ghoul decides to do that for you. You don’t ask questions, you don't care to.

Soaked, shivering and your legs just barely keeping you up anymore, the ghoul places you down on the couch in the room given to you. You let him guide you, and for once, you're glad he doesn't have much to say. He lowers himself down in front of you and starts taking off the disgusting saliva soaked cloth from your mouth.

You wipe your mouth your hand, "Thank you."

He keeps his mouth shut and starts working on untying the rope from your hands. You watch him crouched before you, he's being gentle when removing the knots. A horrifying reminder of what you won't be experiencing at Halfway, if the men from earlier was telling the truth that is. This thought is what breaks you, and the tears start trickling down your tired face. There's no point holding it back anymore.

He's looking at you, so clearly trying to hide the concern on his face as he stands up and walks to the door.

"I’ll head down to the square to look for some food,"

Whatever.

Your silence is making him uncomfortable, so he leaves. You stay seated, replaying the words spoken between the men from earlier, over and over in your head.

Everyone you knew had made Halfway seem like such an amazing place. That you were lucky to be going, you were chosen. The thought makes you want to throw up.

You don’t register that the ghoul is back, fresh mutfruits placed in front of you on the coffee table, and though you are starving, you can’t bring yourself to even eat one.

"Eat," he says sternly. You just shake your head.

"M’not hungry," you sniffle, drying your tears with the palm of your hand.

"It’s not nice to lie, sweetheart. You haven’t had anything to eat since the damn radroach. Eat," He's trying to act concerned, but you don't believe it for a second. You scoff and look up to meet his eyes, and he’s looking right back at you, an annoyed expression on his face. You can’t believe this guy.

"Why do you care if I eat or not? Let me be," You're so tired, and all you want is to sleep. Gradually rising from the couch, you head towards the bed.

"Please," his plead makes you stop in your tracks.

"Please eat, you're really gonna need the strength," he seems desperate, almost.

You turn around to see him standing motionless by the coffee table, clearly attempting to compose himself.

"No," you're stern in your reply.

He's growing increasingly annoyed, angry even, because he knows he can't force you or harm you in any way.

"Whatever good condition means, I’m sure they'll be pleased as long as I’m alive, right?" Your voice gradually getting louder. "Being that their plan is to torture me for 10 years and all, they must have lots of stimpacks around to keep me alive enough to birth their whole next generation of psychos, don't you think?" Tears start falling.

"Don’t make me beg again," His eyes are shut, as if he's trying to block out your words, as if they affect him somehow. what a fucking joke.

"You’re so afraid you won’t get your paycheck. Well fuck you, and fuck the caps they’re paying you for this," you say it with so much pain and hatred, and you’re sure you’ll regret it later but you don’t have an inch of fuck to give at the moment.

Suddenly you see his angry features fall, and he catches himself in a cough. It's grotesque, and it seems to be getting worse with each one. He looks at you with disrepair, and you can tell he's struggling to catch his breath. You don't know what to do, but you're getting scared for him now. It looks horrifying, but before you're able to come to his aid, he scurries out the room.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. What just happened? A part of you wanted to run after him to make sure he was okay, but at the same time you wouldn't mind too much if he left and never came back. Shaking, you decide to tuck yourself into the left side of the bed. Trying not to think about how dirty it is, you curl yourself into a ball and cry out every last drop.

You’re never able to fall asleep, the tears just keep coming. You thought about running away, but knowing that the ghoul was getting paid a lot for this job, he would likely find you again in no time. What would be the point?

Your sobs are suddenly interrupted by the door opening, and you quiet yourself down to listen closely to every sound. The sound of the ghouls boots scraping the floor as he makes his way to the couch, his coat and gear getting thrown down on it. You decide to pretend that you’re already asleep as you hear him make his way to the bed. Feeling it dip slightly as he lay down in it.

But your cover is blown when you sniffle from the snot in your nose. You damn yourself as a sigh from the stranger fills the room, and you start feeling embarrassed about the way you treated him earlier. It’s not him you should be angry at, if anything it’s Margot and your group. The ghoul is just doing his job, to collect a price which he must need desperately, you can’t really blame him. He owes you nothing.

"Cooper," his raspy voice turned soft for a second.

"What?"

"My name is Cooper, some call me Coop. Whichever rolls of your tongue the best."

You feel awful now, "I’m sorry," Wiping away the tears and the snot to the best of your ability.

"For what sweetheart?" He sounds like he already knows what you’re apologising for, but decides to ask anyway for his own amusement.

"For cursing you out, it’s not your fault, and I shouldn’t blame you," You say, already feeling better for apologizing.

You both stay silent for a while, only sniffles from your nose filling the room. It’s embarrassing, you feel like such a child.

"C’mere darling," He says it in such a soft way. You can barely believe your ears. Looking over your shoulders you see him looking at you, only the dim light of a burning candle nearby to light your surroundings. He’s on his back, gesturing with his hand for you to lay in the crook of his arm. You contemplate it for a second, but it doesn’t take much convincing if you’re being honest. You’d take any form of comfort to make you forget this whole thing, even for just a night.

You turn around, inching closer under the sheets, finding a comfortble spot in the crook of his neck, your head resting on his arm. You’ve never been this close to someone except your mom when you were younger. It’s scary in a way, being this vulnerable and intimate with someone you barely know.

Your breaths are shallow, thoughts racing through your mind and it’s making your heart is beat so fast. You can’t tell what he’s thinking, his body doesn’t give anything away.

You lay like this for a while, just a few dry sniffles and breaths heard between you. You recognize the closeness of him.

But you want to get even closer. You want him wrapped around you and have him absorb your whole being. It may come from having learned that you have extreme trauma waiting for you, and you can’t help but want to experience something good and genuine before that.

Your breaths become heavier, deeper, and you feel yourself wanting something; wanting him. This could go terribly wrong, but what exactly do you have to lose? Fuck it. You push away the what if's and inch your face closer to Cooper’s neck, your hands find themselves carefully making their way to his chest. He doesn’t react, and from what you can tell, he doesn't seem to mind.

You see his breathing stop, and you’re feeling brave. So you test the waters, gently sliding your hand up to his chest, letting them glide across his shirt. While your lips carefully grace the rough skin on his neck. You hear him puff out the air he’s been holding in while curiously letting letting you wander, but he doesn’t seem to resist.

When he doesn’t stop you, it’s easy to find the courage to keep going. Your hand wanders further down his chest, stomach, but he catches your hand right before it reaches the hem of his pants.

"What do you think you’re doin'?" He doesn't sound disappointed, more so curious. You feel a bit embarrassed, but you stand your ground, like you've already stated, you’ve got nothing to lose.

"Please Coop," just a whisper in his ear, "Please show me what it’s meant to feel like", a plea, practically begging.

He can’t help but let out a low growl, obviously turned on by the thought. "I’m meant to deliver you as a virgin, sweetheart."

You want to cry again, a sob brewing deep in your throat. "Please, they won’t know- They won’t find out," Your lips find his neck again, leaving trails of kisses up to his jawline, tongue swirling along the rough surface. You never thought you would find yourself in this position 2 days ago, but here you were, begging for a bounty hunter, a ghoul, to take your virginity.

Lucky for you, he seems to be out of fucks to give and lets go of your hand after only a few seconds of thinking it over. You don’t hesitate to let your free hand go under his shirt to feel his skin. It’s so textured, but you don’t mind. You’ve never touched anyone this way before, there wasn't much to compare it to.

Your hand travel lower until it finds a buldge. Being that this is your first time being intimate with somone, you’re startled by the unfamiliarity of it at first. But it doesn't take you long to realize that you were the reason for his cock hardening, and that turned you on more than anything.

Cooper, who's been laying still for some time now, has clearly been contemplating if he should stop this whole ordeal or not. He wants to touch you so bad, show you how good he can make you feel. Have you shaking with pleasure because of him, but he seems to let you be in control for the time being. You didn't mind, and it gave you some reassurance that this wouldn't be rushed, nor that he would force you to do something you didn't want to.

Your hands are shaking at this point as you try to unbotton his pants, and Cooper can't help but to give you a hand in your already broken state. You’re eager, and waste no time removing your own.

"Get over here darlin'," he says with that gentle voice again, gesturing for you to straddle his hips. His length is exposed now, and you feel yourself getting nervous with anticipation. You find it hard to believe that he's gonna fit inside you, it seems impossible.

Yet, you gain the confidence to sit up and make your way across his lap. You're not sure where to sit specifically, but you want to study him further and therefore straddle his thighs. His cock in view in front of you, laid across his stomach, stiff and drooling. Cooper doesn't say anything, but he watches you carefully, wondering what your next move will be. You don't pay attention to him for now.

You do however find yourself curious, and grab the length in front of you. It's warm, and you circle a thumb across the top where it's drooling a clear liquid. You hear him hum under you, an approval of the gesture you just performed. Butterflies take over your stomach, and you feel throbbing in your lower area. You want his cock so desperately inside you now, just to hear those sounds from him again.

"Sit up for me'," the gruffness of his voice draws your attention to him. You obliged without hesitation, "Scoot closer," and you do, of course you do.

He stretches a hand down between your thigs and you're on your knees straddling his hips. Rough fingers run between your folds and they run smoothly.

"Well fuck me, you really want this huh?" He's teasing you now. You nod frantically.

"Use your words sweetheart," He inserts a finger in your untouched hole. You gulp at the sensation, "Yes- yes I do-".

He hums again, moving the finger inside you, bending and stroking. It feels strange, but not painful. "I know you do honey, but I need to make sure you can handle me first, alright?"

You nod frantically, you knew already that you were prepared to do anything he wanted. "Yes, sir,"

Without warning he adds another finger, and it's starting to sting a little. You try to control your breathing as he starts moving them in and out of you, "I know it hurts baby, but it's only for a lil while. You trust me, don't you?"

You nod again, "Yes- Fuck!" He was getting agressive with it now, but he's hitting a spot you didn't know existed and it's sending you to other dimensions in your mind. Your eyes are rolling back while his fingers work hard between your thighs. It's unlike anything you've felt before.

"There we go.. You're gonna be so good for me aren't you, princess?" His words barely register as you find yourself gripping his arm and holding on for dare life to not lose your balance.

"Mhm- y- yes," and before you knew it, his hand is removed from between your folds and you're left heaving for your breath and trying to focus your vision again.

"I think you know what to do, darlin'," You need him badly now, even more now that you know what pleasures are waiting.

You place yourself over his cock, and Cooper watches in patiently as he puts his hands on your thighs, stroking them gently.

You grab his length and place it under your opening, ready to lower yourself on him. "Slow now," he warns as you as his tip meets your entrance, before letting it slip in just an inch. You both hiss, him with pleasure, you with pain.

"That’s it, doll," He keeps his eyes on you as you wince in pain. Taking deep breaths as your hole adjusts itself to his full size, but you’re feeling impatient and start pushing yourself even further despite the burning sensation. You figure it’s better to get it over with as fast as possible so you can actually start enjoying this.

Cooper hums, "Patience sweetheart," you lock eyes with him, and he genuinely seems to care. He lets you have complete control over this, not pushing any limits, and it makes you feel even more aroused, being in charge; seeing his eyes roll back with edged pleasure, yet doing nothing to force his way in.

You feel comfortable enough to start moving now, and you do your best not to squeal when you feel it burn and sting. Finally your skin touch, your ass gracing his thighs, and though it’s still stinging a bit, you can feel his whole length inside you, and it drives you mad.

"Just like that, princess," You hear his soft grunts below, and it reminds you to start moving. Slowly easing yourself off him, just to lower back down again, trying to find the right pace and angle for it to hit the right spot. It doesn't take long before you feel Cooper bucking his hips just ever so slightly to help you out, and he does. He knew exactly how to thurst his cock to give you the extreme pleasure you were searching for.

"More- please," you moan, your hands find his chest to lean on. Nails digging into his already ragged skin.

"God, you feel so fuckin' good around me, darling," His hips buck into you again, pulling himself almost all the way out before slamming himself back inside you. It's rough, and his hands have found your ass to grab to help move you to his rhythm. You're dazed, eyes barely open from sheer pleasure radiating deep inside you. It's making your breath hitched, and your moans spurt out in cries.

"My- fuckn'- god-" you struggle to draw a proper breath, your vision is blurred and rolled back, barely open.

He’s grunting with pleasure beneath you, seeing you completely lost to the way his cock fills your tight cunt, the next time rougher than last. You both sense that you're getting closer to an edge, and that’s when you realize how lightheaded you are, probably from the lack of food you’ve had today, and Coop notices how your figure slowly droops with exhaustion.

"Woah easy darling-" You feel him sit up under you, and without much effort he sits up and holds you tight to his chest, flipping you over on your back in a swift motion.

You would act surprised, but you’re too lightheaded and close to a climax that you don’t react at all. You feel his head in the crook of your neck, breathing heavy and groaning into your ear as he pushes himself deep and steady inside you. Your moans are soft, almost silent, barely there, not enough energy to show him how good he’s making you feel. But you think he gets it, if anything he can see it in how your eyes roll back, how flushed your cheeks are, and feel how your walls are squeezing tightly around him.

"You gonna be a good girl and finish all over my cock, princess?" You feel a hand reach under your chin, placed firmy on your throat, a tight squeeze is applied as you feel his hot breath on your cheek. Sloppy kisses, and a traveling tongue, licking off all your sweat and tears. Having him so near and in control of your breathing makes you feel unbelievably hot. He could kill you right now, right at your high, and you wouldn't mind at all.

"I think I'm- Coop I'm gonna-," you’re whisper in his ear, and it only fuels him more.

He lifts your leg higher, hooking it over his free arm as he goes even deeper. "Show me how fuckin' good I make you feel, sweetheart,"

And with that you think you’re about to pass out, but instead you’re hit with the intense feeling of something combursting inside you. Your head slams back, and your hands reach up to grab the headboard of the bed, your knuckles turning white from the grip. You're dazed, exhausted, feeling the lingering pleasure from your orgasm still present inside your throbbing cunt. Cooper helps you ride out the orgasm in a slower pace while coming up close to his own.

"There you go doll, it's all right," His hand leaves your throat and he unhooks your leg to find your waist, placing them on each side. He's leaning back on his knees as he pumps himself into you, softly, slowly. Soft groans leaves his lips in heavy and hitched breaths as he gets closer.

Seeing you so beautifully dishevelled and limp beneath him, he starts guiding your exhausted body with his hands, pulling you onto his cock, using it to finish himself off. You allow him, cause you enjoy watching him his chest rise with every breath he takes. His eyes rolling back with pleasure from feeling your walls pulsate with each thrust, and with one last squeeze from you, he reaches his own climax.

His hands are grabbing your waist so tightly you can feel the bruises forming already, but all you can focus on is his heaving chest, and his exposed throat as his head is thrown back. Soft grunts and curses filling the room, and you imagine his eyes closed with painfully pleasurable bliss, all caused by you.

He rides out his own orgasm and tries to settle his breathing before he lifts himself off you. He doesn't look at you, but climbs tiredly out of the bed to readjust his clothing. You’re so sleepy, greasy, smelly, but you don't care. You're high, and happy.

You watch him at the edge of the bed, and you utter a soft 'Thank you', just to let him know you're grateful for risking the success of the job. You were meant to be delivered as a virgin after all.

You hear him chuckle from the foot of the bed, you guessed he’d never gotten a ‘thank you for fucking me’ from anybody before, but you just couldn’t help yourself.

"Close your eyes and get some sleep, alright?" Hell, he doesn’t need to tell you twice.

"I think that’s a good idea," You’re not really sure if the words ever left your mouth, being that you’re practically half asleep already. But you do notice the bed dipping slightly next to you, and how you’re gently being pushed on your side. Followed by something warm pressed up against your back, and gentle kisses being placed along your exposed neck.

What tomorrow brings doesn't matter in this moment.

Part 2?

[yunxinshan]

Recently I wondered if Xie Lian could be just as crazy and obsessed with love as Hua Cheng, just not as obvious? What if, throughout all 800 years of wanderings, at each new place where Xie Lian stopped, he built a small memorial altar for Wuming and offered flowers there?

Just imagine the scene: Mu Qing and Feng Xin take Xie Lian away from the Cave of Ten Thousand Statues in horror, saying that Hua Cheng is a sick madman. And later they find out that Xie Lian also built about ten thousand altars throughout Jianghu for the same damn Hua Cheng, and they are like: it looks like we are the only adequate people here :'D

Now this is my little headcanon that I really like. Because Moxiang didn't specifically say what Xie Lian has been doing all these centuries, so it may very well be true >:)

🚶‍♂️...🕯🪦🌸...🕯🪦🌸...🕯🪦🌸..... . .

(⬆️this is Xie Lian who travels and leaves behind memorials to Wuming)

[charlies-diary-entries]

Hello love! I absolutely adore your writing, I was wondering if maybe you could do a poly!mauraders x reader where maybe the reader got injured somehow (maybe quditch?) and the mauraders are like all worried and stuff? Totally fine if you don’t want to do it, I just got injured at my competition and I’m feeling sorry for myself 😂

baby i feel your self-pity, i hate getting benched from injuries!! it's the total worst and i hope you heal quickly, but in the mean time here's something special! it turned more into an independent reader struggling with being worried over, but i hope you enjoy darling. <3

CW: injuries, but thats about it <3

The sound of the students in the stands could only be described as a frightening roar during the match. Through some drizzling rain, Gryffindors and Slytherins had poured out of their common rooms by the dozens to witness the match, which had become increasingly intense.

Foul plays from Slytherins, attempts at similar plays from Gryffindor (which James shut down immediately with a reprimanding and a few threats of what practice would become should such poor sportsmanship continue). You had dodged more ill-aimed bludgers than you could count, and as the wind picked up and the rain got heavier, it was all you could do to stay on your broom.

And at some point, even that became unmanageable.

You could have sworn you'd just blinked and suddenly the noise in your ears increased ten-fold, deafening you, and there were these horrible stars in your eyes.

Then you were on the ground, and there were lots and lots of people around you, and you couldn't really see right, and-

"Shit, shit, shit, love! Shit!"

Was that James?

"What happened? What the fuck happened? Was this one of the snakes, because I swear to fuck-"

Sirius?

They kept shouting, until someone else (a professor?) was shouting at them to quiet down. A lot of movement, fuzzy, dizzying movement, then someone was picking you up and suddenly falling asleep felt like a very, very nice idea.

"No, no, no dove, stay up for us, yeah? I don't- Maybe falling asleep isn't a good idea okay?"

Ah, so Remus was carrying you. You tried to lift a hand to your eyes, to hide from the light, or hide from Remus, or something, but you could barely feel your hand. Scratch that, your entire arm felt like it'd been pulled clean off.

Tears began to slip down your cheeks because fuck, now that you thought about it, your head really, really hurt. Your whole body was burning in pain.

"Oh, don't cry dovey, please, don't cry, Madame Pomfrey'll fix you up so quick, you won't even know..."

You lost the rest of his sentence as you began to drift away. Not that you really wanted to, it just felt much, much easier than staying awake...

All that was what had landed you here, benched at Quidditch with a pair of sunglasses on, a nasty cast around your left arm, and what your boys had deemed a permanent frown that worsened by the minute.

You had woken from the concussion very early the next morning to find an extremely frantic Sirius at the foot of your bed. He kissed you and talked while Remus and James were both still asleep, holding hands as they sat by your bed. Apparently, Sirius couldn't sleep he was so worried about you.

(The conversation didn't get much further than that as Pomfrey entered and began to shoo off the boys. Poor Remus and James only got to give you quick "I Love You's" before being firmly ushered out.)

You had been on bed rest the entire day, Pomfrey also dealing with a freak accident from a first-year potions class. Several children with boils and fevers and a need for so much attention that Pomfrey could not spend time brewing fresh Skele-Gro for you, hence, the traditionally muggle healing methods on your arm. Her potion for your concussion was helping you heal faster, but damn did it make every light blinding.

James had determined you banned from Quidditch practice until you were fully healed. While you understood his reasoning, it did not mean you had to be happy about being benched.

"Lighten up please, darling, glaring at them isn't going to make your head better."

You turned to glower at Remus instead, who sat to your right and handed you a cauldron cake. He smiled brightly and bumped your shoulder before kissing your forehead. Your frown deepened immensely.

"Maybe so, but it's certainly making me feel better knowing they know how much I hate this."

"Am I really such horrid company?" Remus said, a cheeky grin on his face. You rolled your eyes (which definitely did not hurt your head) and turned back to watch James and Sirius fly about in the air. You leaned your head on his shoulder and shut your eyes.

"No," You began, "I just wish I could be up there."

Remus's grin dropped and he placed a kiss to your temple before leaning his head against yours.

"I know dove."

You watched them continue their drills in silence and you had begun to eat your treat when Remus spoke up again.

"Though, it is nice to have you for company. I finally have someone else to ogle the boys with."

At this you snorted, looking up again to follow James and Sirius in the air.

"Yeah, they are pretty hot when they do their thing, huh?"

"Very. Very hot."

"Please, Sirius, my arm's fine now, I can carry my own bags-"

"Not if I have anything to say about it."

Sirius held your books out of your reach with a grin and you huffed, crossing your arms as you both walked to potions. None of the boys had let you carry anything the past week, which was sweet and very gentlemanly of them, but quickly beginning to bother you. Especially as Pomfrey had had you up in the Medical Wing very quickly, choking down Skele-Gro so your arm could heal. Was your arm a tad weaker than normal? Yes! Did it make you a helpless doll? Absolutely not!

"I'm completely serious-"

"No, I am!"

"Siri!" You tried to glare at him, snatching at your bag which he expertly kept to himself. "I can carry my own books, really, I'm fine."

"Hmm..." Sirius stopped cold and began to study you, inspecting you from head to toe. He stepped closer, grabbing your chin, which in turn made you gasp a little bit and lose some of your bravado. He tilted your head each way before grabbing your freshly healed arm and staring it down. You went to interrupt when he slipped your hand into his own and began pulling you along.

"Since you want to hold something so bad, you get me until we say you're alright."

You scoffed as an awful grin grew on his face.

"This is ridiculous. It's almost been a week and still."

"Still what, dove?" A new voice popped up, and James sidled up beside the two of you, taking your other hand.

Your face warmed a little bit as he leaned over to place a kiss on your cheek, but you rolled your eyes and powered on.

"Still you're all coddling me. I mean, you have to let me back on my broom someday, James. Can't keep me benched forever."

At this he frowned, growing a little more serious. "Darling, you need rest to heal. You still need those glasses outside and I'd rather play it safe with you. Don't want you mucking up a solid week of getting better just cause you couldn't wait to be back on a broom. It'd make me a bad captain to let you do that, and an even worse boyfriend."

Again, you grumbled, trying to accept their caring as simply that; caring. He placed another kiss on your cheek and swung your hands back and forth as Sirius spoke up again.

"We don't get many chances to worry over you like this darling, let us baby you just this once? Pretty please?"

He flashed you horrid puppy-eyes as James squeezed your hand again. You rolled your eyes, feeling warmth spread throughout your cheeks and neck.

"Just- let's get to potions. Please."

Both boys grinned and began chattering away as you walked. Would it be so horrible to let them treat you for a while?

Yes. Yes, it would.

Because it would seem, after nearly two weeks of resting and healing spent half in your bed and entirely in the arms of your boyfriends, they still were unwilling to let you return to practice fully.

This thought irked you horribly as you sat, hovering on your broom like a first-year, doing slow laps around the quidditch field no more than a meter off the ground. You picked up your pace a little bit, beginning to feel a bit of wind on your face as you thought of how badly you wanted to be doing more.

"Oi, quit it."

The glare you sent James's way was burning with simmering frustration. You proceeded to stick your tongue out at him and cross your arms, as childish as it felt.

He merely frowned in response, turning to watch the rest of the team drilling catching and dodging with some quaffles. Even if he wanted to place all his attention on you, it would've been entirely unfair to the rest of the team. Sirius was also distracted, i.e., finding a little too much fun in their game of dodgeball. (He'd nearly given a keeper a black eye.) Remus was not there to watch today, instead spending his time studying for an upcoming exam.

With all eyes turned away from you, and this endless itch to actually, finally do something, slipping away was a very easy thing to do.

As you began to fly around the grounds of Hogwarts, shooting up into the sky and diving back down to pick up even more speed, you could've sworn the wind wasn't just whistling in your ears. It was whispering to you that slipping away was the right thing.

You whooped and hollered and laughed as you chased your way around the towers and over the Black Lake. You dared to let your hand fall and scrape the inky dark surface of the water, and the resulting splash endlessly delighted you. Eventually, you decided to settle your little escape under a tree by the shore.

A few pants escaped you as your lungs caught up with all you had just done. After, you'd relaxed for maybe another twenty minutes and it felt like nothing could wipe the smile off your face.

"Jesus, dove, there you are."

Alright, maybe nothing.

You turned to find Sirius landing his broom and jogging over to you, and your face slowly began to drop. He dropped to his knees next to you and gave you a cursory glance, and when he was happy with the state of you, relaxed against the tree as well.

The two of you sat in silence for a minute before you managed to speak up.

"I'm not sorry or anything. By the way. And I-" You glanced over to Sirius, before staring forward and plowing on, "I've appreciated you all caring and coddling me but I'm better and I'm sick of being sidelined and babied and- and-"

You looked at Sirius again to find him smiling at you, completely in love. There was so much care in his eyes that it caused you to stumble over your words and past your point completely.

"And... yeah."

Sirius only continued to smile at you. He then sighed a little and wrapped an arm around your waist to tug you into him.

"Sorry we've been babying you, gorgeous." He paired this with a kiss pressed to your temple. "We're just nervous about making sure you're okay."

"I'm okay. Believe me, I am okay now."

"I believe you, love."

"Good."

You relaxed against him and soaked up the day together. There were birds singing in the distance and a light breeze dancing across the grass. It felt peaceful. You turned your gaze to Sirius and pressed a loving kiss to his cheek.

"I do mean it, I appreciate you all worrying about me. Even if you don't need to so much anymore."

"Not a problem dovey," He grinned, still looking out across the lake before he turned to return your kiss. "It's our job as boyfriends. And now, our job is to convince James you're well enough to do more than float an inch off the ground."

A snort escaped you as you laughed at that, sighing and hiding your face against his shoulder.

"He's gonna give me so much shit for skipping out on practice, floating or not."

"I'm sure it won't be all that bad."

Sirius now smirked down at you, unable to resist pressing yet another kiss to your cheek.

"He's completely smitten with you after all. We all are."

oh my god this is a million years late babes, i'm so sorry. between finals and dorm moveout i've been completely swamped. i'm planning on getting back into the fanfiction grind though, so you have plenty to look forward to coming up darling!! all the best!!!! <3

[opal-owl-flight]

I absolutely adore your agent lore SO MUCH it feels really canon to me, just in a darker and realistic way!!

I am kind of wondering what your thoughts are on octavio, especially in this verse- if you have any of course LMAO 👍 so fair if you don't he just lives in my braincells rent free.

"You. Were not so different, you and I."

"|Shut. Up. Dont compare yourself to me. I did everything for this fragile world. A world you yourself almost destroyed twice.|"

"Aah, so did I, young squid. So did I."

3 rounds on the imprisoned geezer. Some thanks he got, after saving the world. The Captain was almost as bad as their old superior.

He only crosses his arms tighter as they clacked their beak.

"|The destruction of my world does not justify yours' survival.|"

Theres a dry chuckle from within the glass globe.

"Which world has the zapfishes. Which world is close to the sky? Which world allows everyone to...act the way you do. That annoyingly fresh attitude that just rubs in our face how much better you have it."

3s looking more unsure now, their hands clasping tight on their arms whenever theyre not signing. Thats a surprise.

"Mm. Do you understand, agent?"

The hesitance disappears, and their eyes and spots glint threateningly. "|Im the Captain now, and I will prefer to be referred to as such.|"

The king rolls his eyes. Mocks a salute.

"Stuffy kid. Damn. Alright, Captain.

Let me illuminate it a little more clearly for you.

You train your agents to keep my people underground. Sometimes, to the point of breaking their spirit. Because you want to keep them safe -- from me, from my troops, from anything the rough seas can throw at em. Right?"

"|I dont do it like you do. Hypnosis? Mind control? Eight ran away because of that!|"

"Who told you I used that on my entire nation? Damn old fool, that Craig.

As for your "Agent Eight"...

that one...

...had her reasons.

I hold no ill will towards her, or the others, for running.

In fact, I dont blame them one bit."

3 squints.

"They wanted a life that I cannot provide.

Its hard, underground. Constant energy crisis. Constant food shortage. Constant resource depletion. Who would stay? Except those who want to make it a better world to live in?

And you, Captain. What would you do in my place?"

And they stay quiet...

Before their voice rasps through a low hiss.

"Act...in a way... you wont."

"Hoh! So you can speak! Impressive.

But you know youd do similar. Ive heard how much Agent 4 hates your guts. Its not as easy being a leader, isnt it."

3 hisses louder, balling their fists.

"I...am not...you."*

"Yes. You. Are." The king presses his tentacles on the glass. "I did all I did for my fragile world. I continue to run my nation the way I do so everyone stays safe from the danger YOU bring. You and the REST of your nation. My troops are family. My troops are all Ive got."

He casts a glance at 4 (pre-Captain my Captain), who was approaching for her training.

"Even if they end up hating me."*

3 catches 4s gaze.

"Even if they end up deserting."

4 turns her gaze away, to look directly at Octavio.

"Do you understand?"

Now its 3 who looks, understanding dawning in their eyes.

Hes right.

"I must do what I need to, even if it hurts me. Id risk my life, my honor, my everything, for my people.

If I dont, who else will?"

3 thinks of the times theyd swooped in to save the newly returned 4 from hazards in the newer missions. The verbal and physical abuse from her beak and fists. The way they had to give her easier missions despite saying that it was tougher, just so shed have a more gradual growth. Have higher chances of surviving. Even if...underhanded.

4 herself breaks the silence, and their train of thought.

"Talking to the damn geezer again, Captain?"

"|He spoke first.

...but he makes good points.|"

"You cant seriously- hey. HEY! CAPTAIN! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!!"

theres a loud crash.

"|I dont think it fair to keep him here after he helped us save the world.|"

"Hohohoh! You are not so bad, Captain."

"GRAMPS IS GOING TO KILL YOU."

"Hah! No he wont. I know your old man. And for once in his life, he actually made a good call.

Captain.

Agent Three."

The mention of their old number, to refer to them, almost made tears spring to their eyes.

Almost.

After all, this was the reason they were dragged into this mess. But can they really keep blaming him for all this, after all this time?

Octavio shows...a hint of a smile.

"You make a fine protege for the man I used to know.

Keep it up."

3 holds 4 back from rushing the Octarian leader. "Go...back. Take care...of your people."

"Aye aye. Heheh. So long, suckers!!!"

And he was gone.

[meanbossart]

Did Astarion kill DU Drow or did DU Drow pass the checks? (Or did that interaction not happen?)

Cause you’ve basically described DU Drow’s type as THAT Bitch™️ which I respect. But if THAT Bitch™️ killed him too?

Of course this could be me projecting, cause my Durge failed the checks and he came before he went 🫡.

Pretty face, legs for days, a mean streak, AND held a knife to his throat within five minutes of meeting, Astarion had already grabbed his attention, top that off with the fact Astarion actually killed him? My murder man was munted, the Bhaal boy was barking, slaughter son was salivating…

You get the idea

God damn it you're right, his type is just the conceptual archetype of That Bitch isn't it LOL

THAT BEING SAID you are actually mistaken! He may not like suck-ups, but he likes strangers putting knives to his throat even less.

Not to mention: Astarion's immediate order of business after that is to try and desperately get on your good side. In other words, doing the very thing that puts DU drow off. He didn't care for Astarion or his attempts at seduction at all, held him at arms' length, and was just a dismissive asshole to him throughout the majority of Act 1 (he was an asshole to everyone at that stage though, to be fair.)

It was only at the tiefling party when Astarion, completely unprompted, implied that the very idea of having sex with him disgusted him that DU drow became interested and started pursuing him. In the narrative I made up for this course of events, I like to think Astarion realized that his usual strategy wouldn't work here and that he was dealing with a man who only wants what he can't have. DU drow is a contrarian at heart, and for as long as Astarion was throwing himself at him he was going to be turned down.

Astarion only bit him after they started having sex, and at that point he had already told DU drow about his vampirism through normal dialogue ("Well, Obviously."). This is sincerely the only way he got away without being staked when that scene triggers (and it was honestly really cool to experience it in that order because it felt a lot more strategic from my POV as the player).

The bite was definitely a turning point in the relationship (DU drow enjoys being hurt by people he values under a controlled environment, but isn't fully aware of it due to his missing memory -> now his object of carnal desire puts that very concept on the table on a habitual basis, making it pretty much a pillar of the relationship -> DU drow begins to see Astarion as someone who actually has something to offer him, instead of just being a pretty conquest that he can show off.) However he still attempted and passed the first check to break free from it. They weren't close enough for DU drow to completely let go of his sense of self-preservation, nor did he come to trust Astarion entirely for a long time even after that. At that stage, if Astarion had sucked him dry (and then revived him, I guess) DU would have most definitely killed him.

(And If you're wondering how this translates to my actual gameplay - I wasn't taking the game seriously because I don't usually like fantasy as a genre, so I made a guy, named him Drow, and proceeded to be a huge dick to everyone until they all ultimately wormed their way into my heart while I kicked and screamed.)

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Ok bestie ik you literally just posted the request for asks like 30sec ago but im here

So yk the Fontaine archive quest. How about that combined with sagau. Specifically the scene w the whale where FL and Neuvillette fight the whale and then FL like faints and falls back into the portal.

but what if creator reader has been like surreptitiously watching the proceedings to make sure everything goes as planned and intervenes when foul legacy falls back into the portal. They do it sneakily so no one sees them and looks after FL and nurses him back to health.

Meanwhile FL/Chile are like ahhhhhhh why is the creator healing me??????

Idk I think it would be both funny and fluffy

ohhh you're right. you're so right, this would be so wonderful

you've taken a more subtle approach to watching this world than you thought you would've, preferring to simply observe from the background rather than make yourself the center of attention- it's not worth having people hound you all day, every day. honestly, it's rather easy to disguise yourself, just having to wear a facial mask as you traverse the streets of Fontaine, and as long as you're quiet you can watch any play or performance you desire. but despite your no-interfering policy, your heart squeezes painfully when you see Foul Legacy's exhausted state, gasping as he falls back through the tear in reality. without a second thought you twitch your fingers, pulling both you and Legacy away from the Opera Epiclese, away from Fontaine, to somewhere safe and warm and filled with waving grass and flowers

the Abyssal monster whines faintly, his armor cracked and smoldering, and you hastily set to work healing and wiping away the starry blood. Legacy stirs, crystalline eye cracking open before widening almost comically at the sight of you tending to his wounds, letting out a strangled trill of embarrassment. he almost melts when you gently shush him, tending carefully to his wounds and helping him sit up with delicate hands. Legacy stares at you in awe, practically falling into your arms when you offer him a hug, purring and chirping and nuzzling against you, the Creator, the one true god. Fontaine be damned- he's right where he belongs, at your side; and by the way you happily pet his hair, you seem to think the same

[theladyofbloodshed]

Who We Could Have Been - A Mor & Nesta friendship

A little one-shot set during the first week when Nesta is in Velaris after entering the Cauldron. It shows the Mor that I wished we saw, the care that I wished Nesta received, and a friendship that was never allowed to grow <3

It scratched at the windowsill, a never ending scrape-scrape. Nesta pulled the pillow over her head, wishing the bird would make the dive from its nest and splatter below rather than having to endure another moment of it thrashing and cheeping from the nest. Even the feathers in the pillow were too loud to her ears, the scrunch of the sheets too much. She took a respite in the bathroom, glad for the cool water that she splashed on her face and neck.

Velaris was a hell. Being fae was a nightmare. Her body was alien to her, the movements foreign and lumbering like a newborn lamb. Nesta moved quicker now as evidenced by the number of times she’d overbalanced with her steps. It was not only speed. Her body was stronger. The soaked nightgown that she’d been brought here in had ripped in two when she tried to pull it off her body, so she’d been left naked and crying in the bedroom whilst searching for the promised robes that were within.

Maybe another might be glad for the speed and strength, but Nesta hated it. Her senses were amplified; the colours brighter, her hearing tuning in to every slight sound, she could smell when one of them was cooking at the other end of the house – and that always had a far richer taste than she was used to. For the first couple of days, all Nesta could stomach was dry toast. It was all too rich, too heavy for her new-found palette.

A soft knock at the door came as it did every morning around this time. The others left them alone, which Nesta was glad for. Hopefully, the blonde one would get the hint soon enough.

Morrigan never did.

The key in the door was useless because she used her magic to turn it back around, so Nesta had to wonder why they even bothered with locks in Prythian if people came and went as they pleased.

‘Good morning. How do you feel today?’

Nesta pressed her hands to her temples, the noise shooting through her.

‘Do you have a headache again?’ Mor took a step forwards. She tilted her head so blonde hair cascaded across her face. ‘Shall I send for Madja?’

‘I do not want that woman anywhere near me,’ declared Nesta.

That rotten healer had smiled at her and said everything was perfect. It was not perfect. It was far from perfect. It was long limbs and pointed ears and everything too damn loud.

She clutched her head, voice rising, ‘Will that bird leap to its death or leave me the hell alone?’

Morrigan’s eyes widened then she held up a finger. ‘One moment.’

While she departed, Nesta perched on a sliver of the mattress. Buried beneath layers of blankets, despite the warm spring morning, Elain slept soundly. She reminded Nesta of a girl from a story who pricked her finger and slept for a thousand years. To the fae, that was probably nothing. A blink of an eye and they welcomed a new millennium. She ran a hand against Elain’s face then shivered at the sound of her hair sliding over itself.

‘Ta-da!’

Mor held out a mass of fluffy, white fur.

‘What am I meant to do with that?’

The woman had no bearings on propriety. She crowded Nesta’s space as she placed the two balls of fur against her ears. Her fingers were warm on the points of Nesta’s ears, but she still felt revulsed by somebody touching them. They were a reminder of what she was.

When Morrigan stepped away, it was… better. The sound was muffled. Less intense.

‘Ear muffs! I forgot to give them back to Viviane last time I visited her, but if they work then they work.’

Nesta could finally breathe. The brightness and taste, she could manage. The bombardment of sound had been a constant battle that had been wearing her down.

‘Does that feel better, Nesta?’

She didn’t know why but she felt heat building in her face as tears prickled her eyes. ‘Yes.’

Mor touched her hand. ‘This is new ground for us too. We don’t know the ways in which you’re struggling so I’ll need you to be vocal.’ Her fingers slipped into Nesta’s. ‘You're not a burden for telling us what you need. I know it’s scary. I can’t imagine how you feel. But I’m here. We are all here for you – and Elain – for as long as it takes.’

The final portion of the dam collapsed and a flood of tears broke through. She was not one for weeping or embraces. Tears were to be briefly shed alone then forgotten about. Servants were forbidden from coddling them – and her mother was not the sort to do it either. Yet, when Mor instinctively moved forwards and wrapped her arms around Nesta, she was so grateful for that touch. To not be the one having to hold it all together. To have a moment where she didn’t need to worry about Elain.

‘Let’s go for a chat,’ the woman said against her cheek.

‘Elain,’ began Nesta.

‘Elain is asleep. We won’t be far.’

It was against her better judgement, but Nesta followed. In the week since they had been taken from their beds, Nesta had barely seen beyond the four walls of the bedroom. She’d cloistered herself in there, unable to take any more change.  It was a prison. A prison to fester.

‘We’re quite high up in the house, so we won’t winnow yet if the noise is too much. Velaris can be… loud,’ she said, smiling brightly. ‘Do you paint like Feyre?’

‘No.’

‘A shame,’ said Mor as they walked through a red-walled corridor with brightly coloured rugs strewn about haphazardly as if they had too many that they didn’t know what to do with them. ‘Velaris is known for its artists’ quarter. We’ve got lots of markets too if you’re a food lover.’

Disappointment grew in her. ‘Not particularly.’

‘No matter. What do you like to do, Nesta?’

Upset my sisters. Ruin my future.

‘Read.’

Could nothing dim Morrigan’s cheery disposition? Her eyes had blown wide with delight. ‘Oh, do I have the perfect place. Wait. Maybe not today,’ she pondered aloud. ‘Lots of priestesses. Lots of noise. But,’ Mor took her by the hand like she was a child’s plaything. ‘Yes! Let’s go.’

Nesta tried not to frown as she was tugged along the corridor then down a set of steps. Something sweet was baking in the oven, the smell wafting towards them. But it was not the kitchen that Mor towed her towards. They reached a set of double doors where Mor gave her a knowing look.

‘Behold,’ she whispered, pushing open a door.

Rows and rows of books filled her vision. It was a library. A personal library stacked with shelves, each one begging Nesta to run her eyes along it and choose a title.

She moved to take a step then held herself back.

‘It’s okay,’ Mor reassured her, touching her arm. ‘Go in. Have a look. Take as much time as you need. I need to get something – unless you want me to stay?’

‘I can be alone,’ Nesta replied.

The library was warm with wedges of sunlight pouring in through the tall windows. The books in its path had spines damaged by sunlight so the leather was fading. Nesta stood in the light, letting it soak into her bones. Her finger trailed along one shelf, tracking each book and wondering which to read. There were sections on the arts, history, geography, poetry, foreign books – and even a whole section dedicated to fiction. Father always said it was a waste of time. Nothing could be learnt from a story. Mother despised reading entirely.

Why must your head be filled with words? A husband will not take to being outwitted by his wife.  

Their scoldings could never staunch her desire. Nesta had read in secret, had stolen books from father’s collection at night and returned them in the morning. She’d begged the housekeeper to buy her them and she’d find the money from somewhere.

When Nesta was already a chapter deep into a heavy, ancient book about the history of the Night Court, Morrigan returned.

‘I bring snacks,’ she announced.

A handful of cakes had been artfully arranged on a plate, their icing colourful and appetising.

Mor caught her gazing at them. ‘Take one. I brought them for you.’

‘I can’t.’

‘Yes, you can.’

Why did it feel like a weakness to admit the ways in which she was struggling? It wasn’t Nesta’s fault that she was in this life. Not her fault that it was new and scary.

‘Everything tastes so strong.’

Morrigan gave a murmur of understanding. ‘Feyre suffered with that. She just had to push through and get used to it, I think. I wish she was here. She’d be a better help.’ Mor just shrugged, letting the words roll away. ‘What about tea? Can you manage that?’

One of the strange women appeared from the shadows, as if she had always been there.  Nesta was sure that sometimes she blurred at the edges as though not quite real.

‘Is that alright, Cerridwen?’

The woman nodded then vanished again.

Mor leaned forwards and rested her chin on a closed fist. ‘What are you reading?’

‘A history of this court.’ Nesta swallowed. This woman was trying to make conversation, trying to help. Being prickly would only push away the help. ‘All I’ve ever been told is that faeries cannot lie and they will enjoy hurting us. I don’t know anything. I don’t know how long you live, who are your enemies – if you can lie.’

‘We can lie. We can touch iron. We can step across a circle.’

‘What a list of talents you have,’ came a drawling man’s voice.

Oh. It was him.

As Cassian approached, carrying a tray of tea, Nesta’s body coiled tight like a snake ready to strike if he came too close.

Mor gave a sarcastic laugh. ‘I’m helping Nesta to understand how fantastic we are.’

‘Oh, you’re a historian? When did I miss that?’ Cassian came around the back of Nesta’s chair, taking a deliberately longer route to get to the space on the table, before putting down the tray.

‘And you’re a waiter now?’

Cassian threw Mor a wink as he poured the tea for the two of them. ‘A male of many talents.’

His eyes slid to Nesta, cataloguing all of the changes in her. She’d not seen him since he was bleeding out on the floor in Hybern’s castle. She remembered the twitch of his fingers, the jerk of his bloody wings.

‘Your wings have healed,’ she stated.

Cassian slowly – ever so slowly – dipped his chin like he was in disbelief that she’d noticed they were not ruined ribbons hanging behind him. ‘They’re not as they were. I need to practise flying. I’ll, uh, be flying here often to strengthen them.’

His eyes dipped to her lips as she brought the scalding cup to her lips only to have something to do with her hands.

Those words hung there. An offer if she wanted to take it. He’d come here again if she wanted to see him?

‘Shoo,’ said Mor. ‘I have an in-depth history of the Hewn City to tell Nesta and I won't have you spoiling it with stories of how amazing you are.’

Cassian held up his hands. ‘Nes, if you want to know about brave warriors, I’m waiting.’

Long after Cassian departed, Nesta was still on a cloud somewhere. Mor’s words hardly registered although at any other time, Nesta would have been riveted with the history of Morrigan’s family. Her mind was caught on a pair of hazel eyes and a teasing grin. Cassian hadn’t commented on the ear muffs she wore or that she was even out of the bedroom.

For hours they talked, conversation swirling from serious discussions about the political alignment of the Night Court to the best boutiques for clothing and embarrassing stories about Cassian – of which Morrigan had plenty. When Nesta finally gave in to the squirming guilt that encouraged her to check in on Elain and be with her, Mor insisted she take a few library books with her and also insisted that Nuala and Cerridwen would be happy to make her whatever food she wanted as long as she asked them.

‘I’m really glad you came out of the room,’ said Mor, linking her arm with Nesta’s on the walk back. ‘Same again tomorrow?’

Tomorrow. Tomorrow meant a future. It meant no longer hiding. It meant accepting that this was her life.

Nesta offered a short smile. ‘I can do tomorrow.’

[befuddledcinnamonroll]

I actually have time for a more leisurely watch this morning, woohoo!

Anyone else think that Satang could play a hell of a villain? Like one that uses his cuteness for evil instead of good.

Peem still not understanding the magnetic pull he has for Phum, lol. Man doesn't hesitate for a second to get as close as possible.

Apparently Mick gets the brain cell this episode.

Wait, do we have two brain cells this episode?

OMG MATT THAT'S WHAT I JUST SAID!!!

Phuwin's beauty can be so distracting sometimes.

We know why you don't have a choice Chain.

I love that pretty much everyone else complains, but Chain is like "this is the life I have chosen".

Sirs, these drinks are all still completely full, why even get them? Like seriously production, I know they add color, but just fill them up halfway to begin with.

Lol, Toey, this man wants you, that's why he's holding back.

Peem, you have a puppy now, accept it.

He's so cuuuuuute.

I like the little moments where you can tell Fang is like "how is this my type?", but he can't help himself.

Sir, no. Whatever you are thinking, no. Just no.

I really respect how Phum is just fully invested in showing Peem how utterly whipped for him he is. No games, no tricks, just full "please step on me" energy.

Damn, these two and their chemistry. No wonder Peem is so close to snapping.

But also if they don't make out soon I'm gonna break something.

I am living for Phum's "the audacity of this bitch" face in the background.

Lol, when your best friends are shocked to find you have actual competencies.

I know the main purpose of this scene is for Phum to confirm he has real feelings for Peem, but I'm so glad they're addressing Fang & Tan's relationship here.

It's clear that Fang does like Tan, but next to someone with Tan's exuberance, it helps to hear him say the words.

I am so here for these friend shenanigans.

THEME OF THE SHOW ALERT!!!

*Be with the people who let you be yourself, my bebes.*

Also I love the little detail that Tan hits Toey more gently than they've been doing with each other. He's their baby.

Oh god, first Phum confesses and now he's eye-fucking Peem, I am going to implode.

Yay, Peem, finally!!

Now for the love of god go stick your tongue in that man's mouth.

[memento-rory]

➞ 𝑪𝑨𝑺𝑼𝑨𝑳.

✭ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and ted have been “casual” for months now, and you’re over it. when you tell him you want to be more, ted rejects the idea, and you decide to try to get over him. (requested by anon.)

✭ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: erm it’s a little angsty because i love drama 🧍🏻‍♀️ afab!reader.

✭ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: ~2.5k

✭ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: splitting this bad boy in two. expect the next, sexier part soon! 😗 no beta, we die like men here. if you see a mistake, no you didn’t.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore.” You say, and the hand that is lazily rubbing your back stops.

“What do you mean?” Ted asks, raising his eyebrows at you as you sit up, reaching for your bra and shirt that rest at the end of his bed.

Ted sits up as soon as he sees you getting dressed, reaching out to touch your arm in hopes of stopping you.

“I don’t want to do this casual bullshit anymore.” You tell him with a lazy shrug as you clasp your bra. This is something you’ve been ruminating on endlessly, a mighty need to be something more than casual ever-present in your heart.

“Okay…” Ted’s eyebrows furrow, and he turns his body to face you, sitting up straighter. “Okay, then we’ll stop. No harm done.”

You stare at him incredulously, momentarily dropping your shirt into your lap. “Ted, I don’t want to stop,” You huff, wondering how he can be so dense, “I want to be more. I want to be official.”

Ted stays silent for a moment, clearly trying to gather his thoughts. “I thought you said you were okay with being casual.”

“I was!” You reach for your shirt again, hurriedly pulling it over your head. “Casual I can do, but Ted, whatever we’re doing doesn’t feel casual at all. You can’t treat me like a girlfriend in private and then treat me like an acquaintance in public. It fucks with me.”

“(Y/N), I’m sorry, but…” Ted ran a hand down his face, clearly a little frustrated at you reneging on your previous agreement. “I’m not looking for anything serious, I was upfront with you about that from the beginning. I just… I can’t do it. I’m sorry.”

You stare at him again, your mouth hanging open just slightly as you try to wrap your mind around what he just said. It was such a, frankly, silly thing to say given how he’s been treating you lately. You two have been spending nearly every free second you have together for months, you both have a key to each other’s places, you make dinner together, and you’ve shared a lot of things that neither of you have ever shared with other people. Any time you’re not together, you’re texting each other all of the random thoughts you have, like neither of you can stand to not be in contact with each other.

Not to mention, the sex is anything but casual. Ted takes his time with you, touching and caressing you like he can’t believe you’re real, like you might dissolve under his hands at any moment. He puts you first every time, his own pleasure be damned. Sex with Ted feels like heaven, like worship, like love.

“…Okay,” You nod slowly, getting up from his bed to put your pants on, grabbing your things from his nightstand. “No harm done.” You repeat his words back to him, avoiding his gaze as you leave his bedroom, and then his apartment — maybe for the last time.

God, you think as you stand in front of the mirror, checking your outfit, I do not want to go to this party.

You know Ted will be there, because of course he will. You both share mutual friends, and it’s not like you can ask anyone to pick sides. You would never dream of doing that anyway, but it’s not like anyone even knows you and Ted were hooking up in the first place.

You stare at yourself for a minute, before deciding to change into something a little sexier. Just because Ted isn’t looking for something serious, it doesn’t mean you aren’t. Maybe you could find someone else at this party, someone who would appreciate you in public as much as they do in private.

Really, it’s not like you’re asking for much. You’re not asking for Ted to make some big announcement, to plaster your photo all over his social media, to bring you up in videos or anything.

You sigh, trying to soothe yourself. No use getting worked up over something like this.

You’re a catch and everyone knows it.

That statement proves to be true the minute you walk through the door. Heads turn, and you have several people’s attention as you dive headfirst into the party, making yourself a drink and allowing yourself to let loose for the evening.

You spot Ted in a sea of people — of course you do, he stands a head taller than a good portion of the crowd — but you pay him no mind. (Well, you try to at least, but you’re only human. You sneak a few glances here and there, but only when you know he isn’t looking.)

You mingle and laugh with some of your friends, sit down to play a drinking game, and even do a little tipsy dancing with some of the people grooving in the living room. You catch Ted watching you from the other room, slowly sipping from a red plastic cup as someone else tries to get his attention.

You don’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

As the night starts to wind down and the music changes from upbeat songs to chill jams, you find yourself standing beside the door frame of the kitchen, where things have slowed down and people have funneled out, cradling your half-empty plastic cup in your hands.

“Hey, look who it is.” Schlatt’s voice reaches your ears before you see him. You turn your head just slightly to watch him walk up to you, stopping a little closer than you’re used to.

“Look who it is.” You repeat, smiling up at him. “How’s it going, Big Guy?”

“Just fuckin’ wonderful, now that I know you’re here, sweetheart.” He grins down at you, leaning up against the doorframe with his hand on the space above your head, “You’re lookin’ good tonight. You havin’ fun?”

You turn your body to face him more, resting your back against the door frame, staring up at him. “For the most part, yeah,” You answer honestly. Sure, there is a part of you that’s capital B Bummed about your situation with Ted, but you have had a good time, and — if the rumors surrounding Schlatt were correct — you could probably have an even better time with him.

“‘For the most part’?” He repeats disappointedly, raising his eyebrows. “Listen,” He says, leaning down closer to you, his face inches away from yours. “Why don’t you tell me how I can make your night better, beautiful.” His voice is lower than you’ve heard it before, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

You open your mouth to answer him, ready to tell him that he can take you away from this party and back to his place to show you a good time, but as soon as you start to speak, someone interrupts you.

“Schlatt!” Ted’s voice is chipper, but he claps Schlatt on the back a little too hard to be friendly. “And (Y/N)! What’s up, what’s going on?”

Schlatt doesn’t move from his position, his hand still resting on the doorframe above you, and why would he? It’s not like Ted ever told him about the two of you. As far as Schlatt knows, this is just a friendly interaction.

But you know it’s not. Ted’s smile is far too wide for someone trying to have a normal interaction, and maybe Schlatt will chalk it up to Ted being tipsy, but you can see in Ted’s eyes that he’s pissed.

What does he have to be pissed about? He’s the one that said he isn’t looking for anything. Who does he think he is?

You smile up at Ted, before looking back at Schlatt, “We’re just chattin’. I think we were getting ready to bounce, actually?” You hint at Schlatt, who grins deviously.

“Yeah, sick,” Ted nods slowly, his smile wavering just slightly. If you’d blinked you would have missed it. “Mind if I come too? It’d save me from having to get a Lyft home.”

Oh, my God. He’s cockblocking you. He’s actually cockblocking you.

“I don’t think we’re headed in your direction.” You say, with your own sickly sweet smile on your face.

“Oh, really?” Ted asks, raising his eyebrows, “Where are you guys going?”

“My place.” You tell him through gritted teeth. “Is that okay with you?” You don’t mean to say it, but nevertheless it comes out.

Schlatt can tell something is up, and he quirks an eyebrow curiously. “What the fuck is going on right now? I feel like I’m in the middle of a fuckin’ lover’s quarrel or somethin’.”

Schlatt’s keen observation is met with silence.

“Oh, shit,” He laughs, “I actually am, holy shit.”

“Schlatt—“ You start, but he pushes off of the doorframe, before patting Ted on the shoulder.

“Figure this shit out, man,” He tells Ted, before walking away, still laughing and shaking his head.

“What the fuck, Ted?” You say as soon as Schlatt is out of earshot.

“Don’t ‘what the fuck’ me,” Ted frowns down at you, “What are you doing? Trying to hook up with Schlatt, really?”

You scowl at him. “Yes, really.” You roll your eyes at him, “What’s it to you, anyway? You don’t want me, why do you care if someone else does?”

“I never said that I don’t want—“ Ted sighs a heavy sigh, looking around at the still-crowded party. “Look, can we talk about this somewhere else?”

“We don’t need to talk about this anywhere else. You made yourself pretty fucking clear this morning.”

“Would you just hear me out, please?”

You look at him, and he stares back down at you, a pleading expression on his face. He looks so sincere that you can’t help but give in, no matter how badly you don’t want to.

“Fine.” You spit out, crossing your arms over your chest. “But you’re paying for the Lyft — and we’re going to my place. I’m not about to have to leave your place upset for a second time today.”

The ride to your place is absolutely silent, save for the soft music playing from the radio of your Lyft driver’s car. Neither of you really want to hash this out for a complete stranger to hear, so you both stare out your windows in the backseat until the car pulls up to your place.

You don’t wait for Ted as you walk up to your door and unlock it, stepping inside and immediately kicking your shoes off.

Ted enters shortly after, taking his own shoes off, making himself at home like he always does. He follows you over to the couch and you both sit, an almost uncomfortable distance between the two of you.

“Well?” You say expectantly, looking over at him.

“Okay, look, you have every right to be pissed right now—“

“Yeah I do—“

“(Y/N),” Ted sighs, turning his body to face you, “Can you just let me talk?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, nodding, permitting him to continue.

“I don’t want to be casual either.” Ted starts, and your eyebrows furrow before you can register making a face.

“Then why did you tell me no? What’s changed since this morning?” You cross your arms over your chest, your eyebrows furrowing even deeper as you think about what had gone down this morning.

“I don’t like how it felt to see you with someone else — and with Schlatt, of all people.”

You release a frustrated sigh, standing up from the couch. “At least he seemed genuinely interested in me.” You snark, making your way to your kitchen. You could use a drink right about now if you’re going to rehash this argument.

Ted’s up in a flash, following after you. “(Y/N), I’m interested in you.”

You open your fridge and pull out a drink, rolling your eyes where Ted can’t see. “Really, Ted? Because it seems you’re only interested in me when someone else is.” You pop the top off your drink and toss it in the trash can.

“That’s not fair.”

You nearly slam the fridge shut, whipping around to face him. “Who are you to talk about fair?” You laugh, mirthless. “I’ve been playing by your rules for months but I want to make my own rules and suddenly it’s not fair.”

Ted opens his mouth to speak, but you interrupt him, stepping closer to him, until you’re right in his face. “What’s not fair is stringing me along and treating me like you… like you fucking love me or something in private and then acting like you barely know me in public, like we’re fucking coworkers, despite the fact that you know me more intimately than anyone else in this world.”

“Okay! Okay, you’re right, fuck.” Ted huffs out, rubbing at his temples. “I’ve been a real asshole. I know that.”

He leans back against the countertop, staring over at you with a soft expression. “What I said earlier was fuckin’ stupid. I don’t just want you because I don’t want you to be with someone else.” He bites his lip, pausing to search for the right words. “Look, it’s not… easy, being in the public eye, okay? I said I wasn’t looking for anything serious because I don’t want you to have to deal with assholes on the internet just for existing near me.”

Your own expression softens at his explanation, but you still scowl just a little. “Ted, that should be my decision then, not yours. I’m a big girl, I can handle that shit.”

“I know that.” Ted nods, “I know. I should have just said that in the first place, but (Y/N), I really care about you. Like, a lot, and it would fuckin’ kill me if somebody were to say something mean about you.”

“Like I care,” You can’t help but roll your eyes. You have never and will never care about what any stranger behind a screen has to say about you. “Ted, all that matters is you and me. I don’t give a fuck about what anyone else has to say about it.”

Ted reaches his hand out for you, and as you take it, he pulls you close to him. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He says, leaning down to press a kiss on top of your head. “I want to be with you for real. I’m sorry I was a fucking idiot about it.”

You set your drink down on the counter beside him before wrapping your arms around him, resting your head on his chest. “It’s okay. I get it. You were worried about me, even if you went about it in a real roundabout way.” You tease. “I’m sure you’ll figure out a way to make it up to me.”

You pull back a bit to look up at him and find him smiling down at you mischievously.

“I can think of a few ways.” He murmurs, before switching positions with you to hoist you up onto the counter.

You can’t help the giggle that slips out as his lips find yours, and everything feels normal again.

[saintjosie]

hi!! fanfic writing person here again :D

i've been looking at a ton of stuff and first like. damn i didn't expect me headcanoning a character as transfem to lead me down a rabbit hole where i now 1. have loads of random knowledge on transfem issues and 2. have a massive amount of respect for transfem people and understanding of the differences in experience of different trans people. wonderful actually. your stuff has been super helpful tysm

actual question! how do i go about using femininity as a marker of transition without falling into gender roles? do you think that's disrespectful? because like. wearing makeup, 'feminine' clothes, that kind of thing-- functionally no bearing on someone's womanhood. but those are, to my understanding, big hallmarks of transfem experiences. i don't want to say that wearing makeup or a dress makes her suddenly feel wonderful and pretty and solves all her woes, but i also don't want to downplay the significance of that experience. ideally, how do you think those should be balanced? basically how do i make her feminine without it seeming like a certain level of femininity is required to be trans.

generally, are there any experiences you think would be helpful to know? i'm writing a lot about her (currently two fics on different effects of HRT as an adult, and two on her gender being affirmed as a teen when she had taken basically no steps in her transition) so any insight is helpful. ideally what would you want portrayed in a non-transfem author writing a trans girl? idk!

i understand that these are very big asks so once again don't feel pressured to reply-- thank you regardless! generally looking at your content as a trans woman has been super helpful so thank you so much for sharing <3 best wishes!

"how do i go about using femininity as a marker of transition without falling into gender roles?"

you cant! but why do you need to? a core part of the trans experience is experimenting with gender, stereotypical or not. so many trans fems (including myself) start off by leaning very hard into stereotypical femininity because they are things that many of us have not previously explored. and then a core part of that journey is learning that there is no right way to explore gender. i spent years leaning into being femme until i realized i was more comfortable with a little bit of fluidity and androgyny. i think the most authentic experience would be to have her explore femininity, stereotypical or not, and then eventually coming to terms with how she is a woman outside of stereotypical femininity. two experiences that i think might be a good way to introduce this concept is one, the gender affirming experience of being included as one of the girls. there's a lot of nuance to that experience that people dont necessarily consider. there is the self doubt of, oh am i really one of the girls or are they just humoring me? and also for some there is the need to feel like they need to confirm to expectations of femininity, and leaning too hard into it.

second, the experience of experiencing misogny for the first time. i specifically say misogny because a lot of trans women have face homophobia and transphobia before they experience misogyny that validates them as a woman and for many people there can be this sudden awareness of how different the world is when you move through it as a woman. there is your typical run of the mill, this guy is a dick misogny but then there is also that experience of facing internalized misogny from other women. the experience of being told by cis women how to engage with femininity because a lot of cis women haven't deconstructed that for themselves is an experience that can be particularly hurtful because it is infantilization and misogny that is also incredibly invalidating.

third, when youre talking about gender affirming experiences from pre-transition, there's a lot of nuance to those experience because while they are gender affirming, there is confliction too. for some theres the question of why do i like this? and you also have to consider that many times those experiences that happen to a person who sees themselves as a boy. there is a level of separation from the experience because they havent necessarily embraced transness yet, and if they have, theres tentativeness because being in your teens is all about forming identity.

if you can capture these experiences in your writing, then fantastic! but also these are hard to capture because often times it takes lived experience to write it with nuance. love these questions and happy to answer! good luck with your writing!

[malii-the-bonehead]

The Other Woman pt1

its here ladies and gents its here.

Slow burn

Summary: Chris, a popular hockey player at school where Y/n went, found himself falling for the beautiful, shy girl. As time went on he found out who Y/n truly was as a person and ultimately, he had to make the choice, his girlfriend, or the other woman.

She was beautiful and he knew it. He knew because every chance he got, he would look in her direction. She sat so perfectly in 3rd hour history class, her back facing him. But he could imagine exactly what her face did. The way she focused so hard. So hard that she’d lick her lips too many times. The way her eyebrows furrowed when she didn't understand the lesson. Her long hair perched in a messy bun on top of her head. How her cheeks were always dusted with a light pink color. She was so, so beautiful. Not everyone would think that, but one adored her. Chris adored everything about her. She was so sweet and soft spoken and she was a little bit shy. He would listen to her talk when the teacher would ask a question and wonder how she got so wise and smart. He was proud of someone he never knew.

He thought about her a lot. And ofcourse, he was beautiful as well, but he didn’t think so. He thought he could never, ever be good enough for her. Chris thought he lacked the smarts and personality that she had. He thought he wasn’t worthy of her, and so many people, except himself, knew he was more than capable. Chris wasn’t exactly sure of how popular he was in school. Him on one side of the social status and her on the other.

Despite not many people knowing her, the ones who did were fond of Y/n. They had no reason to despise her. Everyone apart from Chris’ girlfriend. No one understood why, not even Chris. And Chris loved his girlfriend, but she wasn’t Y/n. The love he felt for Y/n was different from Clairisa, Chris’s girlfriend. She was beautiful too, super smart as well and always kind.  But there was something that drew Chris to the other woman. He didn’t have a clue what it was but it kept tugging at him. And it pained Chris to know that if Clairisa knew how he felt about Y/n, it would crush her. But that didn’t stop him. He just wanted to talk to her. To be close to her. He wanted to be her friend. That’s why he’s where he’s at right now, in front of Y/n's desk in their only shared class.

Y/n’s pov

I wrote on my paper, studying the last bit of information I could before the test. I didn't have time to study last night. Work kept me up til around midnight, and when I did finally arrive home, I had to clean the kitchen. It was always a mess when I got home. I regret not doing it after school, seeing how tired and stressed I was this morning. I scribbled down as much as I could. I found that I can memorize things quicker if I write it down a few times. God how I hated history. I was good at everything, math, science, English, and even French class, but history? Hell no. I sighed, closing my eyes and rubbing them with my fingers. I heard a slight tap on my desk in front of me. I moved my hands from my face and looked up slightly. It was a boy with brown hair and very blue eyes. I felt my face form a confused expression. I knew who he was, everyone did. Chris Sturniolo was kind of popular with the girls and he was very friendly with the majority of the guys at school as well. Most knew him because he played hockey, and damn was he good at it. 

Why is he at my desk? Class is about to start and he’s at my desk.

“Um, yes?” I asked, glancing over his face before shifting in my spot. His gaze was making me uncomfortable.

He looked at me for a few seconds, but it felt like so much longer. He looked like he wanted to get something off his mind but couldn’t form the words.

“Do you need something?” I questioned him once more. Then, as he was opening his mouth to say something, he closed it and walked away to his desk. I looked down at my hands on my lap. What was that about?

I glanced back slightly, him already looking at me. I quickly turned around, picking up my pencil and scribbling on my paper again, trying to hide my face from others that were filing into the room. I felt a blush slowly creep up my neck. Well that was embarrassing. The bell rang meaning class was starting. I closed my book as the teacher announced we had a test today and started going over the directions of what to do after we had finished.

The test wasn’t difficult at all. I was actually the second one to finish it. I knew I had gotten an A on it. Majority of it was common sense. After I turned the paper in to the teacher, I walked back to my desk. I glanced around the room, my eyes finding the top of Chris’s head. He had his head down, probably sleeping. Did he finish his test? Why is he sleeping right now? I shook my head slightly and sat back down at my desk. I opened my bag and grabbed my phone and headphones. I opened my music app and played my music, letting out a breath and sighing. I had work again today. From 4 to 11:30. That meant that when I got home I had to clean the house quickly, so I didn’t struggle like I did last night. I placed my head down softly, shutting my eyes and listening to the music playing through my headphones.

–

School was slow. Every class seemed to take forever. I think it was because I was so exhausted. Lunch was nice though. I normally go outside for lunch. I like to look at the sky, listen to my music and enjoy the quiet. Sometimes there would be the occasional person to say hello to me but today it was just my thoughts. I was grateful for that. I appreciated the 45 minutes of peace. I liked talking to people, but most of the time it was too much to deal with. Talking meant focusing, and lunch was the time that I didn’t need to focus, unless I was cramming information in my head because of an exam next hour. 

The last bell of the day rang, excusing students to go home and enjoy the rest of the day for themselves. I walked outside, to my car. A white  2017 Nissan Sentra. Nothing special, but I loved it. It was cozy and gave me good memories. Memories I’ll hold onto for the rest of my life. My dad got it for me on my 16th birthday a year and a half ago. That was probably the best birthday I’ve ever had.

I got in and shut the door, starting the car. I looked around, making sure it was safe to go. Slightly to my left, a little ways across the parking lot, I spotted Chris leaning against his girlfriend's car, his hands in his pockets. She was leaned up against him, talking about something I obviously couldn’t hear. 

She’s so pretty, I thought to myself. I’ve always admired her, always been jealous of her since the 4th grade. She’s so lucky to have a guy like Chris. She deserved him. He deserved her. I blinked slowly, realizing I was staring at them. She kissed him and walked around to the driver side of her car. He walked to the passenger side and they both got in, pulling out of the parking lot. I leaned back in my seat. I wonder what he needed earlier. I honestly forgot about it, even though the situation made me very uncomfortable. I hope he didn't think anything bad of me. I mean, why was he standing there just looking at me. Why didn’t he talk? What if he wanted something from me? What would he want? I have nothing to offer so why would Chris Sturniolo be at my desk? I put my head down, rubbing my eyes with my fingers, for what felt like the 10th time today. I lifted my head and drove out of the parking lot, going in the direction of my home.

You have more important things to worry about, Y/n. Get home and get ready for work. But, I still thought about those blue eyes looking into mine all the way home. 

[a-d-nox]

web of wyrd: drake v. kendrick

DRAKE'S 5 & 18 THROAT CHAKRA

oof the ghost writer energy is real. moon energy reminds me again of lying. in music the greatest deception is to make it seem like you wrote something even though you just performed it. drake is a performer, not a writer. to me that makes him sorta lesser (compared to kendrick) because it's not even his words that he is singing.

the hierophant energy tells me just how influential drake has been in the industry emotionally that is.

KENDRICK'S 5 & 12 THROAT CHAKRA

he does indeed see dead people lol. no but kendrick sees things that the average person doesn't, so he speaks up about it - hence why we see the hanged man on his throat. he has a gift when it comes to curating and telling a story on an album.

the hierophant energy tells me just how influential kendrick has been in the industry in written sense. he has a natural talent as a lyricist.

DRAKE'S 4 CAREER

red flag moments. i feel like all emperor career people need to be on the look out for people who will try to "de-throne" them. they are the type of people who believe that they are the very top of their game. and it might not be true but it is important for them to feel that way and to feel confident or else their career will go sideways. these people also tend to get too comfortable in their situation - they will feel they are immune to the system and they are above the law in some regards. they tend to abuse their power.

KENDRICK'S 8 CAREER

the more emotional the better - vulnerability is key to him being at the peak of his game. so every time he is blunt with how he is feeling, the better the response is from fans. that's why the damn. album did so well, in my opinion! as eminem says "don't get sad, get angry" worked out perfectly for "like that" and "euphoria".

16 AS THEIR HIGHEST RELATIONSHIP POTENTIAL

i don't think everyone will agree but them having beef with one another has been the best thing for their careers. very much a survival of the fittest moment and 100% necessary for the rap game. kendrick no doubt has proven he is an incredible lyricist despite his sporadic music drops. while we are learning (in my opinion) that drake can't really compete though so many people thought he was king in this game.

14 AS THEIR RELATIONSHIP CORE

am i the only one that noticed the rap beef was the heaviest on star wars weekend - "i hate you" "you were my brother, anakin! i loved you!" that is REALLY what i was thinking the whole time because they used to be friends, and i often think of temperance as the energy of friendship and brotherly love ("philia"). they have been quiet for weeks now, so i am wondering if it was all for publicity to begin with and if this was really just a show for the fans - they are really just friends at the end of the day? but at the same time, silence and waiting periods are typical with this core in a relationship.

3 AND 20 LOW POTENTIALS

i think the rap beef will either sunset into nothingness or we will have another xxxtentacion situation on our hands... I DEFINITELY BELIEVE the rap game has changed - when there is beef, we will see more people just going at each other like they did. the creativity has reactivated in the craziest way with that empress and plutonian judgement energy paired (it screams diss tracks and rap battles).

21 RELATIONSHIP BLOCKER

there can only be one type of energy... we shall see what that means for sure because either drake will for real flee to canada, retire, and/or go to trial/jail OR kendrick might get the xxxtentacion treatment.

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[t0ast-ghost]

S3 EP19 (Requiem For Methuselah) let me guess. Kirk is romancing.

Forthwards:

- beaming down together <3

- uh oh a time limit!

- Spock grabs McCoy’s arm to get him out of the way of the fire

- very drawable right here

- Kirk is not fucking around today

- wow. Just wow.

- A SHAKESPEARE FIRST FOLIO?!? This guy is fucking rich holy shit

- She’s just like me when I watch Star Trek

- I like that she wants to talk to Spock about science :))

- “What is loneliness?” “It is a thirst. It is a flower dying in a desert.” Wow

- “Thank you, Doctor. I will have a brandy.” “Do you think the two of us can handle a drunk Vulcan? Once alcohol hits that green blood—” They’re adorable

- fuck off fuck off fuck off (edit: this is probably about them immediately flirting with Rayna)

- Bottles of colourful liquid. You think one of them is ketchup?

- Does Kirk know how to play pool? Is she showing him for no reason? He seems to know what he’s doing…

- I love that Spock likes playing musical instruments

- His boyfriend is dancing with a woman RIGHT THERE. I wonder what a rewrite of this would be like with canonical queer Kirk in a relationship with Spock and McCoy and why he would choose to dance with her. Cause I think he should be able to just enjoy doing stuff like dancing and holding hands without it being romantic. AND THEN MCCOY WALKS INTO THAT OMG THE DRAMA

- Damn Kirk isn’t interested in Spock’s info dump about Brahms. Tragic.

- and they’re kissing

- The way Kirk just pushed her out of the way-

- YEAH SAVE YOUR BOYFRIEND SPOCK!!!

- Flint kinda wishes that the bot killed Kirk

- Yeah it sucks to be home schooled

- This is becoming like Twilight but without the baseball and vampires

- This is a horrible power imbalance between Flint and Rayna

- And they’re kissing (Nichelle nichols futurama clip where she says "I had to kiss Shatner) (edit: here's the clip at 1:26)

- WHY IS HE SHAKING HER LIKE THAT BRO WHAT THE FUCK

- Kirk’s ass damn why is Flint hiding the Ryetalyn

- “(Spock): Captain, I shall get the Ryetalyn.” “(Kirk): Why you?” “(Spock): There may be dangers within.” “(Kirk): Let’s find out.” “(Spock): Let me go alone captain.” “(McCoy): Why? Get to the point, Spock. If there is one.” “(Kirk): We’ll all go.” Kirk and McCoy ARE NOT about to let they’re boyfriend go into a dangerous area alone

- OMG SHES BALD! (She’s bald and she’s torturing people who have hair)

- “Her only flaw, she is not human.” THATS HER FLAW??? First off Spock is RIGHT THERE. Second I'd say the flaw is that she's being controlled by a awful man

- Wait what? this guy is DA VINCI?!? And still no bitches...

- “She is my handiwork, my property.” EW DISGUSTING KILL HIM

- HE JUST BLOOPED THE ENTERPRISE OUT OF EXISTENCE

- I’m giggling

- “Give me back my ship. Your secret is safe with us.” YOU’RE JUST GONNA LEAVE HER?

- “Because you knew I could bring her emotions alive.” Bleh

- Kirk gets absolutely beat the fuck up

- “No. Do not order me. No one can order me.” YES GET IT! YES

- “She’s human. Down to the last blood cell she’s human. Down to the last thought, hope, aspiration, emotion. She’s human. Her human spirit is free. You have no power of ownership! She’s free to do as she wishes.” Kirk’s so happy for her!

- “No man beats me.” “I don’t want to beat you. This is no test of power. Rayna belongs to herself, and she claims the human right of choice. To be, as she wills. To do as she wills. To think as she wills.”

- Okay but she shouldn’t have to choose between two men. There’s so many more out there in the galaxy

- OH NO DHES SEAD

- “What happened?” “She loved you, captain.” Spock just admitted Kirk’s drop dead gorgeous

- This is giving boyfriend vs. father vibes which I hate. I hate that this is how women are treated. As burdens to be thrown from one man to the next. This is reminding me of A Dolls House by Henrik Ibsen it's a pretty short play and the ending is phenomenal for the time

- Kirk is lonely :(

- “If only I could forget.” Spock spends several seconds staring at Kirk and contemplating until McCoy comes in

“Oh thank heavens, sleeping at last.” McCoy just wants Kirk to get a good nights rest

- yeah

- “You see, I feel sorrier for you I do for him…because you’ll never know the things that love can drive a man to. The ecstasies, the miseries. The broken rules, the desperate chances. The glorious failures, and the glorious victories. All of these things you’ll never know, simply because the word ‘love’ isn’t written into your book. Good night, Spock.” “Good night, Doctor.” WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT AND WHY HAVENT I SEEN AN EDIT TO THAT. Also now I REALLY wanna write a mcspirk fanfic based solely on THAT

- “I do wish he could forget her.” BOTH McCoy and Kirk wished for this and so Spock does something crazy for his loves omg omg I’m gonna throw up wtf

- there’s literally romantic music playing in the background as Spock leans down to mind meld and says “forget”

Well

Masterpost

Episode written by Jerome Bixby

[iintervallum]

im not taking any side in this because i think this that situation is very overblown out and maybe could have been handled in the DMs, but I'm sorry the idea of a Homestuck racism workshop is just so unintentionally very funny lmao

more serious thoughts about this under the cut why actually giving my thoughts on this is beyond me but what the hell it's Easter Sunday

homestuck has obvious racism in it and the shortest statement i can make about it and racism in other media is: it's because the creator had or has racist bias's and they let it show in their work. that's kind of it there's no other secret hidden meaning

if a work has racist implications or tropes typically there's no hidden satire or clever writing behind it, it's just the creator being racist about it. and i don't think that's a death sentence, because we live in a racist society(society_sound_effect_boom.mp3)

but yeah there are many, many works that have racist tropes in it as a result, including works by authors of colour themselves, but i fear that discussion is too nuanced for Tumblr so I'm not going to elaborate on that

if it were me i would make instead a workshop that discussions racism in media in general and uses homestuck as an example, there are kind of more examples in more popular media that would be a better topic? and since its me i would make it about how south asians are not very represented and the few times we do get it it's stuff like never have I ever, or hinduvata bullshit, I'm getting distracted let's get back to the main point lmao

I'm sorry but Homestuck at this point in time is kind of niche because it's rightfully faded into history, one of the reasons i stopped reading the comic despite wanting to know more about it is because it's simply not appealing to me. the main meta narrative is a neat idea and i think the mixed media style it has is extremely underutilized but it's very much a "you had to be there" comic that i as someone who was a toddler at the time of it's release will probably never fully get.

most of it's jokes make it feel like a time capsule(and so does the gratitous use of the r slur i forgot how much the older internet loved that word Jesus )and everything post Homestuck about the discourse as silly as it is to make fun of just feels like beating a dead horse. it's whole "omg Homestuck is sooooo cursed and weird and it's fanbase is so strange lol" reputation feels forced at times and is honestly not that funny.

i don't think organizing a racism workshop is bad, even if a white person is doing it, though i would be giving a massive side eye, but to chose Homestuck for that is an interesting choice lmao

[lucabyte]

I don't know how everyone isn't also always constantly thinking about how burial rites seem to be potentially one of the few things Siffrin instinctively remembers about their culture. But rest assured. I am in fact always thinking about it.

Textless version where they're just hanging out. It's fine!

[expectiations]

I still find it funny that people call eleven a "deadbeat husband" and their marriage "toxic" but twelve is the "perfect husband" and their marriage "wedded bliss" all because of the few moments we'd seen between 11 and River were them being "toxic". yes of course! let's ignore how the minisodes show how that description isn't true and even how little moments in the episodes themselves – "what? that's it?" (why haven't you kissed me goodbye? are you being sly on purpose so I'd kiss you first?) and "they wouldn't bury my wife out here" and the music room is the heart of the home and it's not a ghost story, it's a love story – show 11 cared and put in the work and yes, they're going to have disagreements like the ones in TATM because duh who doesn't but it does not mean it is the entirety of their relationship but people have taken it and made it the entirety of their relationship.