#those are bad rules but also the rules aren’t bad???

[sundew199]

Times Two, Pt.2

a/n: yeah the brain rot on this got to me really bad. definitely recommend reading pt.1 if you haven't, this picks up right where it ended. I also just want to make a point that there is more Reijean in this sooo, yeah.

tags: reiner x f!reader x jean, threesome, establishing a potential relationship, oral m! and f! receiving, anal fingering and sex (m!receiving), Bisexual!Reiner, Bisexual!Jean, messy sex, reijean, fluff at the end.

minors dni!!

word count: 7,977

There was no way to tell what time of day it was when you woke up, clouds blocking the sun from shining through the windows. Groggily you tried to gain your bearings, blinking rapidly and feeling around the bed. It all slowly started to come back to you, the night before and the promise of a discussion of how to move forward. The ache between your legs was a dead giveaway of how thoroughly you’d been fucked, groaning when stood after sliding off the bed. A chill ran down your spin, hugging your arms around you and appreciating the overly large sweatshirt you wore. 

Neither Jean or Reiner were in bed when you woke up, needing to find them and some food. Trailing out of the bedroom into the kitchen, fresh coffee hit your nostrils and helped wake you up further. Your feet shuffled on the vinyl wood floors, walking extremely slow to keep the aching pain from worsening. 

“Mornin’ sunshine.” Jean quipped from the barstool he sat in, a shit eating grin on his face as he glanced up from his phone, slouched and shirtless making you wonder how he wasn’t freezing his ass off. All you did was groan back as a response, ignoring him and still making a beeline for the coffee. You bumped into Reiner, who also greeted you and you gave him the same response. 

Now that you had poured your coffee and taken a few tentative sips, you sat in the barstool next to Jean. The sizzle of eggs turned louder from where Reiner stood in front of the stove, the need for food turning impossible to ignore, hoping those weren’t just for him. 

“Hungry?” He asked, turning around with the pan of scrambled eggs held out in front of him. 

“Yea.” Simply responding, taking another sip of your coffee. Reiner graciously plated some for you and Jean and also himself, setting the plates down in front of you and leaning back into the counter to eat his breakfast. It was quiet as everyone ate, giving you time to wake up a bit more and hit them with what you briefly discussed the night before. If they were serious about having some kind of agreement, you wanted to work out the details. At the moment, you didn’t want to take things too far into a possible relationship, still wanting some of your freedoms. 

“So how is this going to work? Do you two have rules? Things you don’t want the other to do or?” Blurting out with a small clap of your hands, perkiness returning slowly in your demeanor. 

“Jesus christ it's 8:30 am.” Jean mutters through the bite of eggs he took, chewing the forkful and swallowing, motioning to Reiner to take it from here. 

“Okay well first, we want to make sure you want to be apart-” 

“Yes.” 

Reiner sighed at your interruption, brushing it off and tossing the now empty plate in the trash, reaching for his own cup of coffee, “There aren’t “rules” per-se for what we have going on, just mutual respect and understanding. So obviously we let the other know if we were hooking up with someone else, and if it ever happened, to let one another know if we were trying to pursue a relationship with someone.” 

Nodding along and stringing together some questions of your own, you pondered the benefits of this little agreement. It was clear Jean and Reiner liked you beyond as a friend per their confession last night, but you also didn’t want to get their hopes up in being in a relationship with you. Plus you’d never been in a polyamorous relationship and wasn’t even sure if you’d like that sort of thing. That was at least another upside to joining in on whatever they had going on, give you a small taste. 

“Okay that’s understandable. I know you said you both have a crush on me and I’m flattered but I don’t want to give you the impression by coming into this agreement or situationship that you guys are in an actual relationship with me, I’m not ready for something like that.” 

Both of them turned to look at each other, shrugging nonchalantly. “That’s fine, like I said last night, we're not dating or exclusive.” Jean responded. 

Seeing it didn’t affect much on their stance, you felt more at ease in going into this. There was only the lingering fear of one of them getting jealous and the entire friendship going down the drain, but you weren’t going to let that fear guide what you wanted. 

“Okay then I guess consider me part of your agreement.” Saying with a shrug, not sure what else was left to be said. The only other thing on your mind now was studying, seeing how you were so rudely pulled away from it last night. Your last two finals were on Tuesday of this upcoming week and already felt like you lost so much time, not that you didn’t enjoy your time spent with Reiner and Jean, you were just stressed. 

“I’m going to study.” Announcing as you got down from the barstool, taking your coffee and heading to your room. Both guys gave you nonverbal responses as you shuffled down the hall to your room, smiling to yourself at them being them. 

For Hours you stared at your laptop screen, taking practice quizzes for different units and rereading sections of your notes for what felt like the thousandth time. Reiner always said you never gave yourself enough credit for how smart you are and probably didn’t need to study as much as you did. But you weren’t taking any chances, so much riding on your finals score and not needing anything to set you back. You could tell you were burning out of your focus when you started to think about how things would be with Reiner and Jean, wondering how they went about it before they told you and what they’d be comfortable with. Would they care if you randomly kissed their cheek or in general? I mean sure that’s what couples did but you’ve kissed plenty of guys and couldn’t even tell you all their names. Did they care if one day you wanted to just fuck one of them and not the other? Did it have to be both of them? 

Questions, questions, questions you should’ve asked this morning but deciding against it when you felt it wasn’t important, clearly proving yourself wrong. Putting on some decent clothes, realizing you were still just in the sweatshirt and panties from this morning, you took a moment to freshen up as well. Hopefully they were both still home and you could get some quick answers. 

Entering the living room to Jean lying across the couch scrolling on his phone with one of his legs slung over the back of the couch, Reiner sitting on the other end, feet of the coffee table and watching the football game on T.V. Both of them looked up when you came around the couch to sit between them, Reiner muting the T.V and Jean laying his phone down. 

“I forgot to ask earlier but are you guys okay with affection? Like around here, not in public or anything.” Hating how nervous you sounded, partially regretting asking them in the first place when you realized it kinda sounded dumb. 

“I don’t mind,” Jean answered first, looking at Reiner who had the same response as well. Giving a nod and picking at your nails, you inhaled deeply. 

“So when we want to…fuck, does it have to be all three of us everytime?” 

They both got quieter than you wanted them to, talking to each other through looks while thinking it over individually themselves. Obviously they hadn’t been faced with that before, given it was just them two before so you were hoping this wouldn’t cause an issue. 

“I guess not, if it does happen maybe put a sock on the door? Or mentioned it after the fact. Jean?” Reiner said, looking to the other man to see if he thought the same or felt uncomfortable with it. 

“I don’t see the issue, unless it starts to come between us. And if it does, we’ll cross that road when it happens.” Nudging your thigh with his leg that was bent at the knee on the couch, giving a little reassurance seeing the nervousness written across your face. “I don’t see it happening, so don’t let it get in your head alright?” 

“Okay.” Muttering out with a small smile, rising from the couch to grab a snack before going back to studying now that your burning questions have been answered. You knew deep down there wouldn’t be anything to worry about, seemingly excited to get to have you at the same time last night. 

Chills ran up your spine at the memories, biting your bottom lip to keep the breathy moan in as you felt the phantom hands cascading over your body. God fucking dammit you needed finals to be over so you could have all the fun you wanted with the agreement. Just a couple more days.

~~~~

Praise the universe!! You were finally done with the semester, exiting out of your last class with childlike joy. All that studying and endless all-nighters paid off, making fucking above nineties on both of your tests. It was so much more satisfying getting that high of a grade when you were only shooting for passing. A celebration was in order and you had the perfect idea on what you wanted to do. 

After a quick drive to the shared condo, you burst through the front door victoriously, shouting you passed those god damn tests and was free to start enjoying winter break like everyone else. Reiner and Jean took all their finals a week before you did, and they weren’t going to say it, but they were waiting for you to be done so all three of you could whatever the fuck you wanted. God you were so happy, finally free of the stress of academics for a short while. 

“So what do you want to do? Get wasted?” Jean asked, moving out from behind the kitchen counter, popping the last cracker into his mouth from his palm. 

“No, better. Give me a few minutes and I’ll meet you in Reiner’s bedroom, or yours doesn’t matter!” Shouting as you ran down the hall, giving them no time to respond or question just what exactly you had in mind. After that night you asked them to hold off on anything sexual, just until finals were over. They didn’t have a problem with it and only bothered you when they felt like being annoying. Even though it’d only been a couple of days, you were glad nothing had changed in the dynamic the three of you shared, it being something you cherished more than they probably knew. 

Digging through your dresser for that lingerie you bought after the guy you’d been crushing on asked you out to dinner, which ended up being a complete waste, not even finishing dinner before you realized he was just unbearable to be around. That was the last time you ever spent money too please a guy, seeing no point as most of your hook-ups were one time things. But now, oh you were itching to flaunt your body in this risque lingerie for Reiner and Jean, accepting the fact it may be torn off of you. 

A black lace full body lingerie hugged your curves in the way you wanted it too, accentuating your breasts and leaving little to the imagination. You felt good in this, confident and sure of what you wanted. To keep it a surprise, you grabbed one of your sweatshirts that was big enough to come down to your mid-thigh, you giggled jogging down the hallway, passed the living room to the other hallway where Jean and Reiner’s rooms were. Reiner’s door was closed and Jean’s was slightly open, deciding to try there first. 

They were laid back on the bed, scrolling through their phones, not suspecting a thing for what you had planned. Jean looked up first as you entered, closing the door and dimming the lights in his room, a feature so perfect for a plan like yours. Reiner’s attention was gained when you climbed onto the bed between them, forcing a spot for you between their bulking bodies. 

“So…? What are we doing, taking a nap before we go to the bar?” Jean inquired, a hint of annoyance in his tone at the lack of clarification for what both of them were doing here. 

“No, maybe later but not right now.” Sitting up and crossing your legs. “I haven’t gotten a chance to learn what you like.” Pausing further for dramatic effect, running a finger up Reiner’s thigh and placing the other high on Jean’s inner thigh. “What you like in bed that is.” 

Jean’s leg twitches under your hand, internally laughing at the effect you already had on both of them. Reiner sat up, gripping your wrist and letting a smile curl into his lips, moving to be in front of you rather than beside you. 

He started by kissing the outer shell of your ear, releasing a breath that unexpectedly had you bending to his effect. Jean caught on, running a hand along your outer thigh and teasing you by venturing to your inner thigh, a lot closer than you had been when you did it to him. 

“Then find out, we’d be more than happy to tell you but I doubt that would be any fun.” Running his scruffy cheek against yours, Reiner slides his hand to the back of your neck and places a wet kiss to your jawline. Dammit they were quick, already wanting to just lie back and let them have your way with you again, but you wanted to tease now so there was no room to falter. 

Scooting away from both of their lingering touches, standing on your knees, you lift the hem of your sweatshirt, slowly revealing the lace that decorated your body, tossing it to the floor and sitting back on your hunches. They both gaped, stared shamelessly at the sultry movements of your hands running up your torso to cup your tits. 

“I’m going to rip that thing off of you.” Jean rasped, palming the forming tent in his shorts and letting out a sigh. 

“Would you buy me a new one?” Circling your nipples with your index fingers through the lace, the heat sinks into your stomach at a fast pace, already beginning to grow wet between your legs. 

“Yeah, might not last long, but I will.” Confidently responding, now rubbing the tent to ease the ache in his dick, Jean looked to Reiner with another one of their looks. Crawling towards them, you wordlessly instruct them to take off their shirts and sweatshirts, sighing at your new favorite sight of their toned bare chests. 

A lightbulb seemed to go off in Reiner’s head suddenly, wagging a finger for you to ‘c’mere’ and whisper something in your ear. He suggested both of you turn your attention to Jean, implying you both tease and play with him, promising at some point you and him could do the same back. The idea was so sweet to pass up on, agreeing with a silent nod as to not give away anything to Jean. He looked skeptical when you faced him again, trying to figure out what just happened. 

Swinging your legs over his body, grasping the sides of his face, you met him in a deep kiss. His arms wrapped around your mid section, urging you to sit down on his lap all the way and alleviate his erection. Obliging, you moaned into his mouth as your barely clothed cunt grinded down on his dick through his athletic shorts. Reiner was off grabbing what he needed, briefly stepping out of the room into his, returning almost silently if it weren’t for the closing of the bedroom door behind him. He set something down on the nightstand on the side you and Jean were making out, glancing to see a bottle of lube. Jean was too busy devouring your mouth and pawing at your ass to notice, impatiently pulling and snapping the lace against your body. 

Hands from behind pulled you off, sitting firm on Jean’s lap and giving one slow grind with your hips as you strained to meet Reiner holding your face to him for a kiss. Though intense and hungry, his lips moved softly with yours, moving one hand to slip the thin strap of your lingerie off your shoulder until your tit fell free. His large rough hand cupped and massaged it, pulling whiny moans from your lips as he now bit and sucked the side of your neck. Jean looked like he was in a trance, watching Reiner manhandle you, but in an oddly gentle way. He was throbbing inside his shorts, the grinding of your hips not offering everything he craved. 

Your head fell back when Reiner rolled and pinched your nipple between his fingers, chuckling into your neck and giving you one last kiss before releasing his hold on you. Jean sat up, keeping one arm around your waist and latching onto your nipple, furiously flicking and swirling his tongue. 

“Jean-” Breathing out, running a hand through his hair and grinding down harder with your hips. He bit the nipple as a response, smiling when you yelped. 

Reiner moved all the pillows from the bed as Jean busied himself with your chest, trying not to let his throbbing dick take over his actions just yet, wanting to ensure there was optimal room on the bed. Jean finally pulled away, gasping a breath and pulling the rest of your lingerie down to your waist moving you off his lap to take the rest of it off. Reiner seized this as his opportunity to smash Jean into a kiss, catching him so off guard you had to take the rest of your lingerie off yourself. 

“What do you want? My dick down your throat while she sucks you off, or your face buried in that pussy while I’m down between your legs?” Reiner asked between the heated kisses, hearing Jean groan wantonly grasping the back of the blonde's hair. The question and the scene set your body aflame, watching Reiner effortlessly take control and Jean submitting to it like it was the only thing keeping him going. 

“I want’re to ride my face, need to taste her.” Answering finally between gasps of breath, tugging on Reiner’s hair to pull him away from the kiss, watching Reiner smile with a pleased groan. His attention turns to you, sitting back on your elbows just observing just how fucking hot that was. 

“Come sit on my face doll.” Gleaming at you with a smirk and grabbing one of the pillows tossed to the floor to elevate his head a bit. Without looking too excited, you shuffled over to Jean, swinging your legs over each side of his head, looking down at him. The poor man looked gone already, eyes glazed over in lust with a content expression. His hands came to settle in the junction of your hips, beginning to pull you down with the hunger to taste you, quench his sudden thirst and desire to suffocate in your folds. Behind you, Reiner was watching as he popped the lid to the lube open, transfixed on your slow descent and muttering curses once he saw Jean’s mouth make contact between your legs. 

Jean delightfully hummed into your folds the second he could crane his head up to meet you, still urging you to sit all the way down on his face. Your breath carried a whine, soft and salacious as you felt a tongue flatten to swiped back and forth. All thoughts of concern for cutting off Jean's airway went out the window when his lips closed around your clit, sucking tentatively and keeping those hazy eyes on yours, making it next to impossible to not crumble under his wanting look. He looked so enthralled with how your head was tilted back just a bit, the silent moans leaving your tongue and the contortion of pleasure twisted in your face, having you sit on his face was for his pleasure just as much as it was yours. Hands roamed from your hips to below your ribs, caressing your soft skin, back down to your ass cheeks as he passionately made out with your pussy. Who would’ve thought sitting on a man’s face could be so intimate? 

Reiner had to forcefully break away from watching before he came untouched and to begin working Jean open, per his response. With the cap to the lube finally open and ready for when he would need it, Reiner leaned over the foot of the bed, moving a long muscular leg over his shoulder and peppering soft kisses and quick nips to the flesh. He smirked when Jean’s shaky groan muffled into your pussy reached his ears, seeing you tense on top of him at the undoubtable vibrations. Before you were added into the equation, Reiner and Jean took turns deciding who would do who in the beginning but it slowly turned into Jean taking Reiner’s dick, more often than not, letting the blonde toss him around how he liked. Reiner enjoyed it, but he savored the times when Jean would wordlessly slam him into the wall or bend him over the bed and fuck him until he was out of his mind. 

Swiping a flat tongue over the man’s heavy balls, Reiner groaned seeing his flushed and angry cock twitch against his abs, catching the way his hands dug into the flesh of your ass, urging you to ride his face. You were a mess, panting and twisting your hand into the ashy hair, grinding faster onto Jean’s tongue and watching his eyes roll back into his head. A thick finger circled the puckering hole between Jean’s legs as Reiner kissed up his dick flicking his tongue teasingly over the leaking slit. 

“Fuck.” Jean gasped below you, mouth and chin shining with your arousal as he lifted you off his face. His bottom lip quivered when a now slick finger began pushing into his hole, the same teasing tongue swirling around the head of his cock. 

“Turn around for me.” Rasping hoarsely, pleading almost with the request. You complied with a small nod, turning around till your ass was in his face and you were faced with the sight of Reiner affectionately lavishing Jean’s cock. He smiled when he saw the switch in positions, tested his luck by pushing his finger past the first knuckle into Jean, smiling wider at the debauched moan he let out. You knew Reiner was a tease but oh my god it was like borderline torture the way he calculated his movements and teased the man squeezing and pulling your ass cheeks apart. You could tell Jean needed the distraction of your pussy on his mouth with the immediate dive back into your folds, slipping his tongue into your entrance and inhaling deeply. It was expected of you to fall forward for the suddenness, grasping onto Jean’s thighs and whining with need. Reiner’s pumping single finger picked up a rhythm comfortable for Jean to ease his grip on your ass, assuming he relaxed further when Reiner knitted his brows together and moved a little faster. 

“God you’re tight, ease up babe.” Reiner called out to Jean, giving you another devious smug look and leaning his head over to suck just the head of his cock. You were drowning in the furious movements of Jean’s tongue that you could barely make out what Reiner was doing in front of you. Reiner moaned, releasing his cock and dropping a glob of spit, using his free hand to spread it down his shaft. Now you were at attention, pushing yourself up and kitten licking the continuously leaking slit as Reiner pumped up and down. 

“There ya go, suck his dick for me baby.” Reiner encouraged kissing down the side of the shaft, you focusing on sucking and swirling your tongue around the tip. 

Jean could barely handle it, taking a breather and whining at the unexpected amount of attention he was receiving. You didn’t mind, you’d have his cock shoved inside you here soon enough to not be demanding, following Reiner’s lead and teasing the absolute fuck out of Jean. The man in front of you pushed down one of Jean’s legs to the mattress, easing a second slicked coated finger into the complicit hole, sighing at acceptance and how it sucked him in further. 

As you made a mess on Jean’s cock and watched Reiner open him up at the same time, Jean was whining and muttering incoherently, completely abandoning your pussy and focusing on trying not to cum. Fingers pumped rapidly in and out of him, Reiner returning to sucking and kissing up and down the appendage with you. Your tongues met unexpectedly when you both reached the tip, Reiner occupying you in a kiss centimeters over Jean’s dick, sloppily making out and smearing saliva and precum on each other’s mouths.  

“I’m going to cum if you two don’t stop making out on my dick, for fucks sake.” Jean growled, a little frustrated and losing the will to stave off his orgasm. 

“You gonna ride’em?” Reiner asked, ignoring Jean and slipping in a third finger as an extra precaution to make sure he didn’t hurt the man when sinking into him. 

“Mhm, wanna know if it's as good as he says it is.” Smirking and shuttering to Reiner’s deep chuckle, following him as he stood up from kneeling between Jean’s legs, pouring a generous amount of lube onto his cock, waiting for you to turn back around to sink down on Jean. 

Once you were facing him again, you cupped a hand around his jaw and tipped his head back, guiding him inside of you. Reiner waited until you were fully seated to pull his fingers out and test the waters with his thick cockhead, Jean was prepped enough but he wasn’t a brute to just shove himself all the way in. The moment he pushed the tip of his dick past the tight ring of muscle, he hissed and dug crescents into Jean’s outer thighs. You were adjusting around the length of Jean, not as thick as Reiner but thick and long enough to need a moment until you started moving. 

“Feel so good Jean.” Whispering into his lips and lazily kissing the side of his mouth as he tried to keep what composure he had left from the thick cock pushing its way inside of him. With ease, your hips rose up and down on his cock, dragging your walls along the faint ridges and veins. You were relaxed enough to keep Jean from losing his mind, holding the side of his face and gently kissing his lips while riding him, it seemed to work until Reiner pushed himself all the way in, hearing that throaty whine that made you clench around the man below you. 

“Shit.” He cursed, inhaling sharply through his nose and bringing his hips back to where he almost pulled out all the way and slamming them back in. 

“Fuck Reiner-” Jean mumbled between your lips, gripping you tightly around the waist and speeding up your languid bouncing hips to move faster. You moaned, licking into Jean’s mouth and releasing his face to sit upright to rock your hips in time with Reiner’s behind you. His large hands slipped under your arms pulling you back into his chest, cupping your tits and resting his chin over your shoulder, both of you now looking down at Jean. He was ruined, digging the heel of his palms into his eyes and shaking with each breath, getting fucked simultaneously. 

“Enjoying yourself?” Reiner asked, breath kissing the outer shell of your ear, raising the hair on your neck. You pressed your knees to Jean’s hips, pushed your hips forward so the dick inside you could be seen bulging in your lower stomach. You nodded as a response to Reiner, tipping your head back so he could see your face and the doe eyed look you were giving him, taking one of his hands from your breast and guiding it down to where the bulge in your stomach was. He hissed, craned his head further over your shoulder to stare at it, giving Jean a good sharp thrust to gain his attention. 

“Look how deep you are baby,” Calling out to Jean, seeing his hands move away from his eyes and watching as a new wave of lust washed over him. He sat up on his elbows, brushing over where Reiner’s hand was and moaning softly. You squirmed on his dick, mewling to try and get stimulation while the two of them admired the bulging dick, wondering what it was that made it so hot for the two of them. 

With renewed vigor, Jean gripped one of your hips and moved you up and down on his cock, concentration screwed into his guise feeling Reiner resume his pace as well. You whined, meeting Jean’s movements and continuously fucking yourself on him. Reiner pushed you forward so he wouldn’t be smacking his chest into your back too much as he fucked Jean, holding the long legs apart and watching his dick disappear with each thrust, enamoured with how greedy Jean’s hole was. Your hands tangled into the long ashy locks, moaning directly into Jean’s ear as he did the same. You were both gone, energy close to depleting altogether but knowing Reiner was nowhere close to being finished with his ungodly stamina. 

“You feel so fucking good, wanna cum deep inside you princess.” He groaned, smacking your ass cheek sharply, kneading those lith fingers into the flesh and biting the lobe of your ear. You nodded furiously to that, clenching around him and slamming onto him harder and deeper. 

Reiner’s thrust faltered suddenly, violently gripping Jean’s thigh and throwing his head back, sputtering out a groan. Jean hissed, a pathetic whimper leaving his lips as one of his legs hooked around Reiner’s waist. You were so lost in how deep Jean’s dick was fucking into you that you couldn’t tell Reiner had just finished, quicker than you were expecting and possibly on purpose.  

Meeting the lips below you in a sloppy kiss, your body turned limp, unable to keep up with your desire to cum and to make Jean cum as well. Reiner must’ve caught on, hoisting you away from Jean’s chest and back into his own, one arm wrapped around your chest as his other hand ventured down to play with your clit. Now that Jean had more freedom to move as he pleased, he gripped your hips to hold you steady, fully fucking up into you, determined to watch his cum leak out of your pussy and down his cock. 

Barely able to hold on, you silently whined, resting your head on Reiner’s shoulder as he swirled your neglected clit with his finger, laughing devilishly and kissing the side of your neck. Jean grunted below, catching the smug curl of his lips and the look exchanged with Reiner. 

“Cum for us baby, wanna see you milk this pretty cock inside you.” Jean growled, smugness leaving his face suddenly as he drew closer and closer to his long awaited release. Reiner sucks in a large breath, keeping you pressed to him and increasing the speed of his fingers. You were so close, their combined efforts once again ruining your ability to do it yourself or for anyone else to. 

With a clench and a flutter of your walls, you came with a pitiful moan, somehow falling even more limp into Reiner’s hands, wincing at the final sharp thrust from Jean. Warmth filled quickly inside of you, ropes of cum painting your walls so much it indeed started to leak out and down the spent cock still inside you. Both of them sighed, releasing their hold and giving you a second to regain some energy before helping you off. Reiner was the only one not as fucked out as you and Jean, leaving the aftermath of a good fuck all to him. 

He lifted you off Jean, kissing your cheek and gently laying you back onto the bed next to the other. Jean’s chest was heaving, shining in sweat giving him an ethereal glow in the lowlights of his room. He brought his arm to wrap around you, pulling you into his chest and kissing the top of your head. You curled into him, ignoring the sweat sticking to your body and his and basking in the post-coital bliss between the two of you. Reiner could be heard in the bathroom, cleaning himself off and coming back to do the same for you and Jean.

Despite liking the idea of going out and celebrating for passing your last final, all three of you were sprawled across Jean’s bed, half naked and sound asleep. Thankfully Reiner had managed to clean you and Jean off before plopping down himself, making it less gross when you finally woke up. Of course it was dark, probably closer to eight or nine from what you could recall the time being when you waltz in here in your scandalous lingerie. Looking over to spot either Jean or Reiner, you smiled seeing them pressed together, chest to chest with their arms tangled between their bodies. A swelling of affection in your chest occurred seeing how comfortable they looked and abandoning all thoughts of leaving the room to squeeze between them. 

“The fuck are you doing?” Jean mumbled in his sleep, pinching his brows but making room for you nonetheless. Reiner huffed, groaning disapprovingly as you “carefully” pushed their bodies apart to make yourself a spot. They both huffed, still asleep when you finally settled between them, giggling to yourself and pulling the comforter over everyone. There was a time, when all of you were much younger and puberty hadn’t ruined your perception of them, did the three of you sleep altogether like this, pressed together so tight it was a wonder any of you could breath. Experiencing this again under different circumstances did you feel warm and fuzzy, safe between both of their arms.

~~~

All you heard was distorted mumbling when you woke again, voices hushed but loud enough to know a conversation was taking place between you. Everything in your body ached, creaked with one slight movement, similar to how you had been the first time. Vision blurry and refusing to focus, you sat up and rubbed your eyes, jolting to the warm palm on the center of your back. 

“Oh good you’re up.” Jean began, removing his hand from your back and reaching for his phone on the bedside table. “There’s this sushi place that opened up about ten minutes from here and I think we should go try it later.” 

“Isn’t it like three or four in the morning? And why would I want sushi for breakfast?” Groaning as you reached for the comforter to pull to your chest, very much still naked and cold. 

“More like nine in the morning, and we could go for dinner and celebrate finishing the semester.” 

The words were taking their time to process in your groggy brain, not realizing you’d slept till the next day. When they did process, you clutched the comforter tight to your chest and whirled around to look at Jean. 

“Jesus it's the next day?!” Exclaiming and hearing Reiner laughed on the other side of you, along with Jean. 

“Yeah? I mean we’ve only been up for an hour so you didn’t miss much.” 

Not that there was a lot you had to do or anything you missed, but you hated being so tired and out of the loop that time was distorted, it messed with your internal schedule to be productive and get things done around the place. Nothing much could be done now but it was still slightly irritating that it had happened. 

“We can go for lunch, I had plans to meet with Pieck and maybe Annie later.” Climbing over Jean and rolling your eyes at the slap to your bare ass and something like a growl from him. Fucking annoying ass. “But I’m going to take a shower first.” 

“Oh yeah, you need it, after the mess we made.” Reiner snickered, looking at Jean, who of course was laughing right along with the blonde. They were bad enough before when all three of you were strictly friends, and it didn’t come as a surprise to see them finding new ways to make your eyes roll back into your head. 

Snatching a zip-up jacket from the hook on the wall in Jean’s room, you left them alone to go get cleaned up and ready to go out. Now that they were no longer annoying you were able to appreciate the gesture from them. It was kind of odd how things were exactly the same between all three of you but completely different at the same time, making you rethink your choice in not pursuing a form of romantic relationship outside of sex with them. Both of them dated a few girls here and there, nothing serious but you got to see how they treated someone they dated and in a way yearned for it. You, in all honesty, wanted to be on the receiving end of the romantic affection, and it didn’t worry you or set doubts inside you about wanting one or the other, because you wanted both. But something about the idea of dating both of them at the same time made you nervous and reluctant still. What would your friends say? People around school? Three people dating each other all at once, wasn’t common and you hated the possible judgment from others got to you. 

Taking a quick shower and dressing accordingly for the chilly weather, you met Jean and Reiner out in the living room by the front door. Reiner offered to drive, piling into his truck and snatching the aux cord before Jean could from the back seat. 

“Please play something other than your girly pop playlist.” He groaned from the passenger seat. 

“I like her playlist, and added a few songs to my own to listen to when I work out.” Reiner defended you with honor, making you giggle while scrolling through your phone to find a song you knew would annoy the protester the most. 

“Of course you would, you zesty ass fucker.” 

Reiner abruptly slammed on the brakes, sending Jean lurching forward to the dash, only stopped by the seatbelt across his body. 

“I’m not the only ‘zesty ass fucker’ here, last i checked you were moaning my name and squirming on the bed last night.” 

Jean scoffed, scowled at Reiner who resumed peacefully driving to the destination with a smug smile on his face. You were laughing quietly at the two of them from the back seat, choosing to keep your laughs to yourself, lest you face the annoyed wrath of Jean Kirschtein. Surprisingly, Jean didn’t have any sort of rebuttal to send back to the blonde, but the tips of his ears were red and you didn’t even have to see his face to know he was pouting. 

Arriving at the sushi place, you walked in between the two of them, annoyingly dwarfed by their height and size. You weren’t “tiny”, like some girls around campus love to say for some reason, but you definitely weren’t above six feet tall and weighed two hundred pounds. Jean opened the door for you, Reiner following in behind and approaching the lady at the host stand. Said sushi place had a conveyor belt that rotated various sushi’s and you paid based on how many plates you ate. No wonder the two of them suggested this place, knowing they would be able to eat the entire restaurant if they wanted too, racking up the final bill. 

Seated in a booth across from both of them, wondering why they wanted to squeeze into together when it would’ve been easier for one of them to sit with you. Oh whatever, they’ve always been weird like that. Another restaurant worker stopped by the table to explain how the conveyor belt works and how to grab the plates of sushi, also mentioned there were separate items that weren’t sushi that you could order as well. 

Reiner orders a miso soup and Jean orders pot sticker dumplings, the worker writing it down and telling both of them to watch the belt above where the sushi was for their order as it would come down there. 

“This is actually a lot cooler than I was expecting.” Jean spoke once the worker left, beginning to eye some of the sushi rotating at a moderate speed around the restaurant on the belt. The restaurant was cool and unique, better than a ‘normal’ sushi restaurant. 

“Oh look, you can win a prize for eating twenty plates.” Reiner pointed out with a new look of determination of a presented goal. 

“Oh my god.” Muttering under your breath watching the two of them plot and scheme just how many plates they were going to do no matter that the requirement for a prize was. If this was their plan, they were definitely paying the undoubtable hefty tab, but you wouldn’t spoil that for them, seeing as they didn’t see the price of each plate. 

Once their two appetizers arrived on the conveyor belt above the sushi one, Jean started grabbing plates left and right, sliding them to you and Reiner. There were so many on the table now, giving you a wide variety of options to try. You started moving the ones you were eating to keep them from grabbing off of yours, they were animals when it came to food, some things never changing no matter how much time had passed. 

“Oh FUCK! That’s hot, oh my fucking god.” Jean exclaimed, snatching the complimentary water and chugging it. 

“No way you ate that much wasabi on that piece of sushi, dumbass.” Reiner laughed, nudging his shoulder and rolling his eyes in your direction. 

“I swear he never learns.” Snickering through a bite of sushi and watching the man sitting across from you gasping for air and snarling at Reiner openly laughing. Those two were always pushing each other’s buttons when they weren’t pushing yours, wondering how the testosterone didn’t knock out a passerby. Years ago, Conny, one of Jean’s closest friends after you and Reiner convinced him to eat a teaspoon of wasabi, easily convinced the brunette it was a mint paste and wouldn’t taste bad. Jean nearly killed Conny that night while everyone was over at his house, having a burnt and numb tongue for a week senior year of high school. 

“My tolerance has grown, but they put more than I thought.” Banging a fist on his chest, coughing in between each word. Both you and Reiner shared a look letting out a long sarcastic “ahh” and nodding your heads. Jean clicked his tongue and told you both to fuck off. 

The counter on the screen where you sat at the booth was at thirty five plates now, the two guys across from you slowing down, leaving you, who wasn’t quite full to eat the last remaining five. When you slid the last plate into the little slot, they annoyingly clapped for you, making a small scene and flooding you with mild embarrassment. Reiner reached over Jean to press on the touch screen to get the two prizes since forty plates were eaten, which was kind of ridiculous the more you thought about it. They each took one of the two prizes and handed them to you. 

“Awe for meeee? How sweeeet” Raising your pitch to sound like a child and elongating your words, rapidly fluttering your lashes. They both turned red, glancing at each other and smiling. Seeing them nod wordlessly sent your stomach into a flurry of butterflies, which was such an unfamiliar feeling when it came to them. You still weren’t sure how you felt about dating the both of them if that’s what they wanted, but something inside you was screaming at you to give it a try, despite your inner reluctance reasoning. Reiner and Jean were your best friends and more than that now, but a romantic relationship sounded daunting with them even though you wanted in deep, deep down. It’d be better to take things slow, for the sake of your friendship and sanity. 

The prizes were little rubber squish animals, little desk buddies you liked to call them, tucking them back in the plastic ball they came in and stuffing them into your jacket pocket.

“So what are you doing with Pieck later?” Reiner asked, looking up from texting on his phone. 

“Just hanging out, Annie said she also wanted to hang out with me since finals were over, so we’ll all probably be at Pieck’s place.” 

Jean hummed and Reiner nodded, slouched in their seats and waiting for the check. You briefly smiled thinking about what their reactions might be, dramatic forsure. A restaurant worker handed Reiner the check and you swore his eyes almost popped out of their sockets, slowly bringing it closer to Jean so he could have a look as well. His jaw dropped and a hand clamped over his mouth. 

“How much is it?” Asking with your wallet out to pay a portion of the bill as you did eat as well, maybe not as much, but you weren’t expecting them to pay the entirety. 

“Don’t worry about it.” Reiner grunted, digging his wallet out of his back jeans pocket, letting out a long breath and placing his card down. Jean grumbled and muttered under his breath as he passed Reiner his card as well. 

Just as you were about to place yours down as well, Jean swatted your hand away. You scoffed, trying again, only for Reiner to take it and hold onto it instead of putting it down. A worker came by to grab the cards asking how they would like to split it, Reiner telling him down the middle. 

“I could’ve paid.” Crossing your arms over your chest and acting like Jean, pouting with knitted brows. 

“Yea but this is on us, for passing your finals.” 

Your eyes rolled at the response Jean gave you, somehow still finding a way to look out for you even when you insisted against it. Not that you didn’t appreciate the gesture, but it had to have been expensive and you hated it being all on them. When they received their cards, they each signed and tipped, getting the hell out of there afraid that just being in here any long would drain their bank accounts. Back in the truck, Jean beat you to the aux, playing something that wasn’t normally what he would play just to annoy you. You couldn’t be mad, even if you wanted to, doing the same thing to him on the way here. 

Back home, stuffed from all the sushi, you plopped down on the couch, not having to leave for Pieck’s until after she got off of work, which was a couple hours from now. Expectedly, they joined you on the couch, sandwiching you in on either side, Jean slouching in the couch and then eventually laying his head on your lap with a blanket thrown over. Reiner draped his arm across your shoulders and pulled you closer just a tad to not disturb Jean who had drifted off to sleep. You were suddenly so tired, listening to Jean’s soft snores and steady breathing of Reiner, your heart racing at the fact you felt so at home like this? As if the three of you hadn’t fallen asleep on each other on a couch before, but you swore you felt something you didn’t want to name for the sake of taking things slow. Maybe, if everything played in your favor you could be confident to say this new feeling, but who knows where this will go.

[timemachineyeah]

I know I bring this upon myself by venting publicly and then allowing reblogs on my vents, and I’m not including this person’s username because they were super respectful as soon as I made it clear I was not in a place to have this conversation. But.

What.

[here-comes-the-moose]

Plot twist: Rex let Echo go with the Bad Batch because he took one look at Tech and Crosshair and their Twin Shenanigans™️ and was like “I have the perfect opportunity for karma right here”.

[its-raining-cats]

Goodbye ninja you son of a bitch. See you next summer when the level cap is increased.

[scientia-rex]

A lot of younger people have no idea what aging actually looks and feels like, and the reasons behind it. That ignorance is so dangerous. If you don’t want to “be old,” you aren’t talking about a number of years. I have patients in their late 80s who could still handily beat me in a race—one couple still runs marathons together, in their late 80s—and I lost someone who was in her early 60s to COPD last year. What you want is not youth, it is health.

If you want to still be able to enjoy doing things in your 60s and 70s and 80s and even 90s, what you want to do, right now, is quit smoking, get some activity on a regular basis (a couple of walks a week is WAY better for you than nothing; increasing from 1 hour a day of cardio to 1.5 will buy you very little), and eat some plants. That’s it. No magic to it. No secret weird tricks. Don’t poison yourself, move around so your body doesn’t forget how, and eat plants.

If you have trouble moving around now because of mobility limitations, bad news: you still need to move around, not because it’s immoral not to, but because that’s still the best advice we have. I highly recommend looking up the Sit and Be Fit series; it is freely available and has exercises that can be done in a chair, which are suitable for people with limited mobility or poor balance. POTS sufferers, I’m looking at you.

If you have trouble eating plants because of dietary issues (they cause gas, etc.) or just because they’re bitter (super taster with texture issues here!), bad news. You still want to find a way to get some plants into your body on a regular basis. I know. It sucks. The only way I can do it is restaurants—they can make salads taste like food. I can also tolerate some bagged salads. On bad weeks, the OCD with contamination focus gets so bad I just can’t. However, canned beans always seem “safe,” and they taste a bit like candy, so they’re a good fallback.

If you smoke and you have tried quitting a million times and you’re just not ready to, bad news. You still need to quit. Your body needs you to try and keep trying. Your brain needs it, too. Damaging small blood vessels racks up cumulative damage over time that your body can start trying to reverse as soon as you quit. I know it’s insanely, absurdly addictive. You still need to.

You cannot rules lawyer your way past your body’s basic needs. It needs food, sleep, activity, and the absence of poison. Those are both small things and big asks. You cannot sustain a routine based on punishment, so don’t punish your body. Find ways to include these things that are enjoyable and rewarding instead. Experiment. There is no reason not to experiment—you don’t have to know instantly what’s going to work for you and what won’t, you just need to be willing to try things and make changes when things aren’t working for you.

You will still age. Your body will stop making collagen and elastin. Tissues you can see and tissues you can’t see will both sag. Cushioning tissues under your skin will get thinner. You’ll bruise more easily. Skin will tear more easily. Accumulated sun damage will start to show more and more. Joints will begin to show arthritis. Tendons and ligaments will get weaker and get injured more easily, as will muscles. Bones will lose mass and get easier to break. You’ll get tired more easily.

But you know what makes the difference between being dead, or as good as, in your 60s vs your 90s? Activity, plants, and quitting smoking. And don’t do meth. Saw a 58-year-old guy this week who is going to have a heart attack if he doesn’t quit whatever stimulant he’s on. I pretended to believe it was just the cigarettes, and maybe it is, but meth and cocaine will kill you quicker. Stop poisoning yourself.

Baby steps; take it one step at a time; you don’t need to have everything figured out right now. But you do need to be working on figuring things out.

[theamazingannie]

Really confused on how Israel attacking Palestine and Lebanon is just fighting a war or self defense but Palestine and Lebanon attacking Israel is terrorism. Is this a war that both sides are fighting or are both sides committing acts of terrorism? Cuz you can’t pick and choose

[kizzer55555]

DP x DC: The Most Dangerous Card Game

Ok so Danny has essentially claimed earth as his. And he is fully aware that there are constant threats to the planet. Now he can’t stop a threat that originates on earth (that’s something he’ll leave to the Justice league) but he can do something about outside threats. Doing some research on ancient spells, rituals, and artifacts, he cast a world wide barrier on the planet to protect it from hostile threats so they cannot enter. This will prevent another Pariah Dark incident. However, barriers like this come at a price. You see, there are two ways to make a barrier. Either make one powered up by your own energy and power (which would be constantly draining) or set up a barrier with rules. The way magic works is that nothing can be absolutely indestructible. It must have a weakness. The most powerful barriers weren’t the ones reinforced with layer after layer of protective charms and buffed up with power. Those could eventually be destroyed either by being overpowered, wearing them down, or by cutting off the original power source. No, the most powerful barriers were the ones with a deliberate weakness. A barrier indestructible except for one spot. A cage that can only be opened from the outside. Or that can only be passed with a key or by solving a riddle. So Danny chooses this type of barrier and does the necessary ritual and pours in enough power to make it. And he adds his condition for anyone to enter. 

Now the Justice league? Find out about the barrier when Trigon attempts to attack, they were preparing after he threatened what he would do once he got to earth. How he would destroy them. The Justice league tried to take the fight to him first but were utterly destroyed, so they retreated home to tend to their injuries, and fortify earth for one. Last. Stand. Only when Trigon makes his big entrance…he’s stopped.

The Justice league watch in awe as this thin see-through barrier with beautiful green swirls and speckled white lights like stars apears blocking Trigon and his army’s advance. The barrier looks so thin and fragile yet no matter how hard the warlord hits, none of his attacks can get through and neither can he damage said barrier. That’s when Constantine and Zatanna recognizes what this barrier is. Something only a powerful entity could create. For a moment, the league is filled with hope that Trigon can’t get through yet Constantine also explains that it’s not impenetrable. And clearly Trigon knows this too for he calls out a challenge. 

And that’s when, in a flash of light, a tiny glowing teenager appears. He looked absolutly minuscule compared to Trigon and yet practically glowed with power (this isn’t a King Danny AU though).

And that is when the conditions for passing the barrier are revealed. And the Justice realize that the only thing stopping Trigon and his army from decimating earth. The only way he can get through….is by beating this glowing teenager in a card game. 

Not just any card game though. The most convoluted game Sam, Danny, and Tucker invented themselves. It’s like the infinite realms version of magic the gathering, combined with Pokémon, and chess. And Danny is the master. So sit down Trigon and let’s play.

(The most intense card game of the Justice league’s life).

After Danny wins, this happens a few more times with outer word beings and possibly even demons attempting to invade earth, yet none have been able to beat the mysterious teenager in a card game. Constantine might even take a crack at it and try to figure out how to play. He’s really bad though. Every time this happens, the Justice league worry that this might be the time the teenager looses. Yet every time, he wins (even if only barely). 

Meanwhile, Danny, Sam, and Tucker have gotten addicted to the game and play it almost daily. Some teachers might seem them playing the game are are like ‘awww how cute’ not realizing this game is literally saving the world. Jazz is just happy they aren’t spending as much time on their screens playing Doomed.

[murdrdocs]

plsss do fem!reader getting a call from ethan!ghostface 😩 could be smutty or maybe 16+!! also ur writing is so good wtf

ahhh thank you so so much i'm glad u enjoy it! i rlly liked this request :)) this is SUGGESTIVE 16+ but not smut

Sometimes, truly, if you sit in silence for long enough, you start to consider that maybe you aren’t the best person, morals wise. 

You have your good qualities: helping old ladies cross the street, dog sitting for your friends, helping out sick relatives, doing good deeds without having to be told so. 

But the one bad trait, the one you were currently indulging in, seemed to outweigh everything that was good about you. 

Allowing some sick joke between you and your boyfriend to continue. 

As soon as Ethan switched from his usual, saccharine sweet voice, to the raspy, demanding tone of Ghostface, you should’ve told him to knock it off. Seriously. Not with that light, airy tone in your voice that showed how easily persuaded you are. 

But you couldn’t help but let him convince you to continue. Plus, you could’ve pretended that you hated it. Instead…

“Isn’t your line supposed to be: ‘What’s your favorite scary movie’?” 

Ethan, or Ghostface, chuckled. 

“See, you know the rules, sweetheart. Now, what’s your favorite scary movie?” 

You took a second to think, fiddling with the half completed puzzle that you and your roommates have been working on at the coffee table for two weeks now. 

“Probably Get Out. Does that count?” 

“Is that the one by that comedian, Jordan Peele?” 

“Yeah. It’s not really that scary, which is why I like it, but the plot and storyline is horrifying enough.” 

Ghostface hums and you decide to take a leap. 

“My boyfriend likes those traditionally scary movies, with the jumpscares and excessive gore.” 

He takes the bait. “Boyfriend? You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend.” 

“You didn’t ask.”

You take a seat on the couch, your eyes glancing over the window. Briefly, you considered drawing the curtains, but then Ghostface continued to speak. 

“Hm, maybe I should’ve. Does he treat a pretty girl like you right?” 

“Yeah, yeah, he does.” A beat. “How do you know I’m pretty?” 

“Because I’m looking at you, sweetheart.” 

Your breath hitched. You should have known as much, but just considering the possibility is one thing, having it confirmed is another. 

Attempting to play it cool, you stand to your feet and approach the window. “Really? Because I’m calling bullshit.” 

You pressed your face to the glass and used the hand that didn’t hold your phone to your ear to shield your view from the light inside of your apartment. You scanned the streets below, the windows across from yours, and anything else your eyes could reach, but you couldn’t see anything. It was late, there wasn’t much activity in your complex, and the streetlight that previously illuminated your section of the complex was still out. 

Ghostface chuckled condescendingly. “There’s no point in looking. You won’t find me.” 

Stepping away from the window, you surveyed the apartment. Nothing there, save for the organized mess left by yourself and your roommates. 

“But you can trust my word. I see how delicious you look in that little number. That tight shirt, those tiny shorts. Looking like a whore, begging to be fucked,” he spat the last bit as if the words were venomous. "maybe gutted," he toyed with the idea, “your boyfriend know you walk around like that?” 

Your eyes met the cameras in your apartment, the ones that your roommates decided were needed in this big city. You’d never been more thankful to have them. 

“He does,” you took a seat on the couch again, propping your feet up onto the coffee table and positioning yourself to where you could be seen by the camera. Your legs crossed, and you ran a hand along your thigh. “And he loves it. If he could see me right now I bet he would be cumming in his pants.” 

There was a hitch in his voice, barely noticeable, but there. 

You took his hesitation to spread your legs and trail a hand down to the waistband of your shorts. Your eyes flitted up to the camera, you smiled softly, lifted your hand in a wave, then stuck it into your shorts. 

“You said you’re watching me, right, Ghostface?”

[yuveenti-blog]

Astrology Observations 08/06/2024

🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿

🌞The Light & Dark Side To You Based On Your Sun & Moon Sign ( The Sun is what we are consciously aware of can see clearly, it represents the most positive traits in us as well. The moon rules our subconscious and what we can’t see clearly, it represents our dark traits).🌕

Aries Sun: Aries looks straight into fear and still decides to go in. These individuals feel accomplished when they conquer what they fear. They are driven to feel life in all its intensity, they do not and will not settle for a mediocre life. They want nothing more than to be surrounded by confident, successful, and fully-lived people. They want to inspire others by their actions but they are the one to continually motivate those around them, their positivity creating momentum for others in their life. They truly do believe everyone is capable. They have been through a lot of rough experiences and have built so much internal strength that they can shrug off many things. They have a distinct laugh and are certainly funny themselves. They utilize their experiences as lessons so they have a lot of wisdom to share. These are people who feel uncomfortable lying and prefer honesty as it helps them feel authentic. They grew up feeling different in many ways so they had to build a lot of confidence around their difference and learned that standing out and being different is bad, so they can actually be a lot more comfortable with theirselves than others who may feel the need to conform. An Aries is proud of their uniqueness and thrive off of utilizing it when no one is on the same boat as them.

Taurus Sun: Taurus people make you feel like you can cuddle in your bed and be alright. They do not bring an overwhelming and intense energy to rooms. They are the chill people who can remain chill even when chaos begins. They exude “ Queen and King” energy. They are truly meant to be an example of how you can manifest what you want. Inspirational and responsible. They are incredibly methodical when dealing with their goals. They don’t have time for questions without answers. When they go after what they want they know what they are doing and the end results. They are the kind of people who enjoy slow living, but they aren’t cheap. They require quality in their lives so they will continue on until they get it. It can be difficult to find Taurus who aren’t ultimate manifestors. Most Taurus get what they want or close to it in this lifetime. They are very classy and well-mannered people who take care of others very well.

Gemini Sun: Gemini’s have a charm about them that draws you to them without speaking. They seem interesting from a distance. They at times exude energy similar to Leo. They walk with confidence as if others are watching and they stand in a way to invite others in. When they do speak they garner a lot of attention. A lot of people gather to laugh, listen, and debate. Gemini’s are the master networkers. They can upgrade their lifestyle with their ability to be amongst different crowds and capture their attention. Geminis are also great at persuading others, so they do great in jobs where sales is important. Gemini’s are the kind of people who can move to a different state and seem like they’re from there. They don’t struggle to pick-up and move on, they always can upgrade and they know this internally. That is why they seem scatterbrained because they are searching for what is going to improve their life the most. And with this skill they can always offer you an idea to improve yours. They are fast learners and bring great energy to wherever they go.

Cancer Sun: A Cancer’s intelligence lies in how they perceive. They have environmental intuition and absorb information from wherever they are. Their wisdom lies in what they feel and what they know through their intuition. They can be insightful. They have a lot of drive towards their goals and often have such a lovely aura that they get the support needed to succeed. Cancers are nurturers because their instinct is to support, love, and care. They take action when someone needs or wants their support. These people are kind and enduring, they can go through a lot and still give.

Leo Sun: Leo’s like the Sun need to shine. Whatever they start with in life they want to maximize. Leo’s don’t operate small-minded, like Aquarius their goals are on a wide-scale which is why a lot of celebrities are Leo. They want to reach the masses. They strive to reach the top and will not allow themselves to be devalued. Leo’s have the self-respect other signs desire. This is innate to them. They preserve their selves and are careful who they let in to their life. These are very affectionate individuals and they radiate warmth. They have a confidence that isn’t based on circumstances, it’s a deep well of knowing whoever they are, they are great or will be great one day. Very loyal people that take friendship serious as well. They have a personality that people are drawn to. They can brighten other people’s days.

Virgo Sun: A Virgo is one of the greatest assets in any environment. They are solution oriented, nurturing, orderly, and modest. They know how to help because they can see issues easier than others and they have a pragmatic mind to create solutions. You can count them on a Virgo to extend their grace to others in times of need. They are realistic and it helps to guide them in their life because they don’t have grand ideals. Their ideals are very real and tangible so they know what steps to take to get what they want. A Virgo lives a life that allows them to not be distracted or influenced in negative directions. They can catch themselves faster than others and their minds will have them improving without putting in the effort others have to. They are intelligent people whose intelligence is deep and analytical. They convey their knowledge in digestible form so they often are relied on.

Libra Sun: Libra’s want the best for everyone. They think everyone deserves to live a beautiful life and they feel sensitive towards the downtrodden or the unfortunate. They get happy for others happiness and they want to show support to others all the time. They can be very charming and alluring because they always want to make others feel seen and heard. They can take your side just so that you feel understood. They like to go out, enjoy themselves and are into the aesthetics and vibes of places so they know where to bring their friends. These are peaceful people with hippie souls. They have an eye for beauty in everything from clothes, shoes, furniture, homes, and cars.

Scorpio Sun: Scorpio’s always fascinate other people. This is due to their complex nature. They have very chill demeanor’s, they can exude confidence without doing anything. A lot of times a Scorpio is a great person inside and out. They are chill because they do not want to overwhelm anyone with their internal worlds. At heart they are very sensitive, passionate, loyal, and loving. They do not give up on much of anything because they do not change their minds once they set out on something. They have a lot of drive and take action when needed. They see into other people’s soul, yet they do not want to hurt others. They respect others need for privacy just as they want theirs respected. They do not jump to conclusions. They aim to be clear and accurate which means that when a conclusion is made it has proper assessment.

Sagittarius Sun: A Sagittarius is concerned with joy. They aim to enjoy their lives and the path that allows them that they will follow. They are honest because they seek truth above all else. They connect to others from a very human disposition which makes others drawn to them for their authenticity. They have a sense of freedom most do not have. They understand freely speaking, freely thinking, and freely doing. While others feel restrained, a Sagittarius feels courageous and ready to explore. A Sagittarius is in a constant state of expansion and will always aim to improve theirselves and lives. People are drawn to them because their energy pulls others in and their smile makes others feel comfortable in their presence.

Capricorn Sun: Capricorns are the true definition of move in silence. These are the quiet millionaires. These are the people who have what others want, but no one understands how. It is not for others to know because they know to get what they want they have to put in hard work. They take life seriously in the sense that they don’t give themselves the space to feel comfortable without having the things they truly desire. That means these are responsible people who do not prioritize play over what needs to be done. These are excellent workers as they know that a job must and has to be done in a certain way to keep things running smoothly. They are realistic which grants them the ability to see things clearer than others as there is no fog to sift through. When they walk around they exude a confidence that makes you feel that they are powerful. When they open their mouths to talk, people can’t help but to pay attention. They don’t move on whim, they are intentional when they decide to move and have assessed all the avenues before deciding on the one ahead of them. They embrace the taboo, odd and unconventional ways of life and that gives them access to an entire different caliber than most which can make them even more understanding of how humans functions in this world. Incredibly smart and very calm people.

Pisces Sun: Pisces are not fully human because apart of who they are was and is left in the spiritual realm. Which is why oftentimes they do better living amongst people who understand and prioritize spirituality and the creative side of life. They are true unconditional lovers who bare their flesh to connect with others intimately and transcend to different realms. They are wise souls who have experienced much and continue to have access to insights intuitively. They are very open and receptive and can see the world in ways other people can’t. They have a healing energy that when coming into other lives often brings happiness and luck. They are highly compassionate and bring sensitivity to the brashness of the world.

Dark Side Based on Moon Sign:

Aries Moon: These people are very dark when they become dark. Their passion turns into pure anger, bitterness, and hatred. Their courage turns into destructive recklessness. Their honesty turns into manipulation and their positivity turns into complete negativity. They have a switch and when it is flipped it can bring out the worst in everyone around them. Their playful nature turns into violence and they can easily snap and physically harm someone just as quickly as they can do with their mouth. Their desire to be strong and powerful turns into a very jealous disposition and when they can’t take it anymore they seek to dominate those they feel are more powerful than them. Just as fast as they can motivate you, they can cut you so deep with their words that you’ll lose so much of your confidence in that one moment.

Taurus Moon: These people can abhor hard-work and fall into complete laziness. They can get so comfortable they don’t want to move and can convince themselves that they are fine when they aren’t. They will pin all the work they do not want to do on others around them and become increasingly demanding by the day. They will treat people like they are their assistant. They will put so much effort into their desires and give others desires the bare minimum. They do not take advice but they enjoy letting people think they care. Sometimes this is just their way of striking up a conversation with others ( pretending to care). They can play cordial and genuinely do not like you. They will talk behind your back and smile and shake hands in your face. When they begin to think they are succeeding they will easily fall into jealousy which can make them bitter. They are incredibly superficial especially about looks. They may act like they care about your heart, but they get absorbed in the physical attractiveness of others. They try to buy/spend their way out of depression and when it doesn’t work, falls harder into depression.

Gemini Moon: Lost souls who often times project a lot. They put high expectations on others that they cannot live up to themselves. They seek to cover up their confusion with knowledge. They have a restlessness that can make them anxious individuals and they need constant stimulation like a child. They struggle to deal with their own minds especially without other people around them. This is also the reason they become moody and irritated easily which can lead to harsh and hurtful words. They can hurt others and not understand the repercussions to their actions. When you need these people emotionally they are cold and puzzled. They can talk too much just for the sake of hearing their own selves.

Cancer Moon: These people are perpetual victims who will justify their worst behavior by talking about someone else. They may have so many emotions bursting out of them at once and then when someone else is emotional they become cold and dry. They save all their compassion for theirselves and don’t leave any for other people. The constant mood changes can make you feel like you’re walking on eggshells. They can demand a lot from others and turn resentful when they don’t get what they want. They can fall into laziness easily just seeking and wanting comfort to the point they begin to hurt theirselves. They eat away their pain, go through many emotional breakdowns, and pity themselves hoping someone pulls them out of their own demise.

Leo Moon: These people are like children who need attention and validation all the time. Their closeness to you is contingent upon how great you are at making them feel special, loved, and adorned. You must make them feel good or they will not want you around. They don’t crave the truth because lies are comforting to their ego’s. They can be pointless to give advice to as they are fixed and set in their ways and won’t budge for others. They feel like they are better than other people when they have more, do more, or are successful. They will lie and manipulate like no other leaving you confused and gaslit. They will care more about how they appear than who they are on the inside so often times they are completely chaotic internally. Extremely dramatic people who want to be the boss, on top, or above you and if they cannot be that they will run away. They can use people and discard them when they feel good again.

Virgo Moon: These people don’t realize how annoying they become which is what makes them worst, they stick around even once people are annoyed with them. They complain to complain. Which leaves you feeling increasingly negative after your interactions with them. They have a distorted perception of what is real and isn’t, oftentimes they equate everything negative and boring to real. They don’t know how to mind their business. They are too concerned with what others think and that makes them worry others with their worries. They act like robots when other people are emotional. They lose their minds over small details. They have weird habits and they don’t know how they feel so they make-up and lie about their feelings.

Libra Moon: These people drag others down because they don’t know what they want. They fluctuate frequently and expect others to deal with this inconsistency. They cannot cope with their emotions without looking to a drug, alcohol, and s*x. They want to be seen as angels, while playing like the devil. They’re chronic gossipers who don’t have the balls to be real to people. They fall for anyone who gives them validation and are easily manipulated. When not feeling well they become whiny babies. Their main interest is self-interest they just need others for the validation.

Scorpio Moon: These people are insane but pretend they’re chill. Their nature is obsessive so they do not truly know what chill is. When they’re quiet they are collecting information and making assessments of others. These are the kind of people who scheme on others. They do not admit to being wrong. They will put them selves around people just so they can put the blame on others. It is always them being done wrong even if they’re the one scheming behind others backs. They become bitter easily. They are very moody and their light and beauty disappears when they become depressed. They wallow in their sadness. They are controlling, power hungry, jealous, and manipulative. They have great liars and want to know everyone else’s secrets while hiding theirs.

Sagittarius Moon: These people are very forceful bullies who need weaker people around them to feel strong and capable. They don’t have any filter so they go about their lives in chaos. They are impatient with others but want others to wait so long for them. They get annoyed with others quickly. Constantly moving makes them feel productive even if they need to go to sleep and take care of theirselves. They’re self-absorbed into their own lives and can forget about people quickly. They have very bad mouths but are sensitive to what other people say. They have grandiose ideas with no follow through. They are very contradicting people who pick fights.

Capricorn Moon: These people are impossible to please. They act more humble than they actually are. They judge every little thing that doesn’t live up to their standards. They don’t even want to deal with their emotions so when they feel upset with others they don’t talk about it and form grudges. You are either good or bad to them and it’s very easy for you to become bad. They do not mind hurting other people’s feelings since they don’t deal with their emotions enough to care. They think they are better than others and are selective in who they get close to. They need to either use you, benefit from you, or look better having you in their lives. They look down on people with less than them. They want to have a lot of authority so they do not care for others opinions or others telling them what to do. They can take theirselves too serious and be slow to do things for others.

Aquarius Moon: These people think they are superior to others even when they simply are strange. They are fixated on their grandiose ideas and become delusional. When you try to open their mind they become stubborn and condescending. They want others to blindly agree with them. They act like emotions do not exist for them because they don’t know how to feel their emotions without intellectualizing them. They can be assholes towards other people. They are unpredictable and will do and say things that will bring shock and surprise or complete chaos. They don’t know what’s truly good for them, they just pretend to. These people without space can be exhausting and annoying.

Pisces Moon: These people think they are smarter than they truly are. They believe in good things happening for them so they follow things blindly until it turns bad for them. When they’re around shitty and terrible people they become them. These individuals easily end up on drugs, in jail, homeless, and in the streets. They do not know how to take accountability or responsibility. Once they become emotional they can throw tantrums, wallow in pity, and brood for weeks, months, and years. They’re not dependable since their heads are in the clouds. They can be incredibly lazy, just floating by in life. They’re followers and at times they can completely neglect reality.

Who You Attract/What You Are Attracted To Based On Rising Sign ( Ascendant)

Aries Rising: Gemini, Leo, Libra, Scorpio, Pisces

Taurus Rising: Cancer, Virgo, Scorpio, Sagittarius, Aries

Cancer Rising: Virgo, Scorpio, Capricorn, Aquarius, Gemini

Leo Rising: Libra, Sagittarius, Aquarius, Pisces, Cancer

Virgo Rising: Scorpio, Capricorn, Pisces, Aries, Leo

Libra Rising: Sagittarius, Aquarius, Aries, Taurus, Virgo

Scorpio Rising: Capricorn, Taurus, Gemini, Libra

Sagittarius Rising: Aquarius, Aries, Gemini, Cancer, Scorpio

Capricorn Rising: Pisces, Taurus, Cancer, Leo, Sagittarius

Aquarius Rising: Aries, Gemini, Leo, Virgo, Capricorn

Pisces Rising: Taurus, Cancer, Virgo, Libra, Aquarius

🧚🏽‍♀️🧚🏽‍♀️🧚🏽‍♀️🧚🏽‍♀️🧚🏽‍♀️🧚🏽‍♀️🧚🏽‍♀️🧚🏽‍♀️🧚🏽‍♀️🧚🏽‍♀️🧚🏽‍♀️🧚🏽‍♀️🧚🏽‍♀️🧚🏽‍♀️🧚🏽‍♀️🧚🏽‍♀️🧚🏽‍♀️

[laundrybiscuits]

(ETA: now edited and up on AO3)

Look. Eddie knows he can be a little uptight about these things, but. There are rules. If you become a vampire, you don’t need to go full gothic Count Von Dickhead or whatever, but you absolutely cannot just wander around in a puffy vest and light-wash jeans. 

“Why not?” says Steve. He’s leaning back in an armchair, sipping on a bloodbag like it’s a goddamn juicebox. “What, are the vampire police going to arrest me?” 

He pauses. “Wait. There aren’t vampire police, are there?”

“No,” says Eddie. “Probably not. I don’t know. But there are standards which you are refusing to uphold, Steven.”

“Thought you were all about hating conformity, Edward,” Steve says. He’s got an obnoxiously cocky little smirk, the smug undead fucker. 

Eddie grimaces. “Don’t call me that, asswipe. Don’t you feel, like—the call of the night? The siren song of life coursing through fragile human veins? A hunger for destruction that those paltry plastic bags of blood can never truly slake?”

“The bloodbags aren’t so bad,” says Steve, around the straw. “Better than protein shakes.”

“I actually hate you,” Eddie tells him. “Vampirism is wasted on you.”

Steve noisily slurps the last of the blood out of the bottom of the bag. “Come on, you can’t really picture me in some Dracula getup, can you?”

The problem, of course, is that Eddie really, really can. When Robin had read him in on the whole situation, obviously he’d been horrified and concerned—but also, a whole wing of his brain had immediately been cordoned off to work overtime imagining Steve in elaborate Dark Prince regalia, maybe leaning elegantly out of a castle window on the moors, gazing into the foggy dusk. Velvet might’ve been involved.

“...guess not,” says Eddie. It doesn’t sound incredibly convincing to his own ears, but Steve just shrugs and gets up to throw the bloodbag away. 

“There you go, man,” he says, clapping Eddie on the shoulder as he passes. “It’s the 80s. Vampires can be whatever we wanna be.”

———

It gets way too easy to forget about Steve’s condition, until Eddie ends up having to haul him out of a bar in Indy before they get banned for life.  

“Simmer down, buddy,” Eddie says, pulling him into the shadow of the van. “Let’s get those fangs packed away before any of the nice villagers wander by with torches and pitchforks.”

“I’m good,” pants Steve. “It’s all good. Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.”

Eddie lifts an unimpressed eyebrow. “Sure, that’s why your eyes are glowing red and you’re, like, fully vamped out. Which, by the way, looks extremely dumb with the whole clean-cut vibe you decided to rock tonight.”

“Fuck you, I look great,” says Steve, pushing a hand through his hair. He’s not wrong, it’s just not relevant to how he also looks extremely dumb like this, wearing a pristine henley with fangs hanging out in the parking lot for anyone to see.

“So what the hell happened in there, man? I was finally starting to get somewhere with Todd, and…” Eddie trails off in dawning realization.

“Holy shit, am I—I’m like your territory, aren’t I? Your stupid vampire brain got all screwy and decided to loop me in with Robin and the kids as part of your freaky human coven.”

“Uh,” says Steve. He looks unhappy in a shifty kind of way. “Something like that, maybe.”

“Wait, so, are Nancy and Jonathan—are you okay with them because they’re both already in the vamp pack? Is Vickie gonna have to be inaugurated before she and Robin can bone down?” Eddie perks up. “Shit, is there a ceremony? We could totally do a ceremony.” He bets he can get the kids to liberate some velour curtains from the drama club. With a few candles, they could get some serious atmosphere going.

“No, shut up, nobody’s doing a damn ceremony,” Steve groans. “Vickie’s fine.” 

“Okay,” says Eddie. “So…you gonna tell me what all that was about, then? Do I have to start running guys past you first so your vamp instincts don’t wig out? Or…hm, maybe Argyle’d be down to mess around sometime.”

Steve lets out an actual snarl with weird animal echoes, then claps a hand over his mouth.

“Sorry,” he says, muffled. The shadows around them seem darker somehow. 

“So I’m just not allowed to get laid ever again,” says Eddie slowly. “For vampire reasons.”

“Do whatever you want, man.” Steve’s still got his hand pressed tight over his mouth. 

“And it’s…just me?” Eddie peers at the tightness around Steve’s eyes; the way he’s scowling stubbornly at his feet. “Huh. Kind of…possessive, Harrington.”

“It’s—weird,” says Steve miserably, dropping his hand at last. “I know it’s fucking weird.”

“Maybe.” Eddie shrugs, biting down on the grin he can feel tugging at his mouth. “Lucky for you, I’m into that shit.”

“What?” Steve frowns. “You’re…”

“Always wanted a vampire boyfriend,” says Eddie. “Like, are you kidding? I would’ve sold my fucking soul at 15 for something like that.”

“I’m starting to feel a little objectified here,” says Steve, but he’s smiling, and he reaches out to snag Eddie’s belt loop and tug him stumbling closer. “Just in it for the fangs, huh?”

“Well, you’re kind of a shitty vampire, actually.” Eddie drapes his arms over Steve’s shoulders. “So I guess I must just be in it for you.”

Steve hesitates, searching Eddie’s face. Stray red lights are still sparking like embers in Steve’s irises. “Okay, but—you’re in it? Right?”

“Couldn’t get rid of me if you tried, Bunnicula. I’ll send the vampire police after you, just watch me,” says Eddie, and kisses him.

[shadowtriovibes]

it's a sign of the times

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Rating: PG

Word Count: 3.2K

Summary: request [paraphrased]: "Rivals-to-lovers Sebastian and MC use a Time-Turner to travel to the future with Ominis in search for a cure for Anne. Instead they find a girl who's the spitting image of MC trying to sneak into the Restricted Section in the 1910s, only she has freckles like Sebastian..."

the 'verse continues in "the train ain't even left the station" [AO3]

“Anne-Marie Sallow!” she calls out. “Just where do you think you’re going?” At once, the three of you freeze. “Did she say ‘Sallow?’” hisses Ominis. “Did I hear that right?” “I – no. No,” Sebastian stammers. “There’s no way that’s what she said.”

“Can you please remind me again why I’m even a part of this harebrained scheme?” you ask for at least the third time.

You’re crouched around a small table in one of the far corners of the upper section of the Library. It’s well past curfew, but since you aren’t technically breaking any rules by avoiding the Restricted Section, you’re currently getting away with your loitering, as do most students who are caught studying after hours this close to final exams.

Only, you’re not studying. You’ve been summoned there by Ominis, who despite being your closest friend at Hogwarts is also a conniving, duplicitous liar who neglected to tell you that this whole thing is Sebastian’s idea.

You watch warily as he turns over a contraband Time-Turner in his hands, inspecting its impossibly small dials and knobs. The golden sands inside the hourglass hypnotically shift back and forth while he reads over its inscriptions and consults the guidebook he’d smuggled out of the Restricted Section earlier that same day.

You have no idea where he managed to get the device – perhaps in one of those vaults along the coast in Cragcroftshire that he’d been exploring during the summer term. However, now he’s got it in his head that perhaps the reason you haven’t been able to heal Anne is that the cure to her curse simply hasn’t been invented yet. Therefore, a quick jaunt several years into the future ought to reveal a way to rid Anne of her illness (and maybe even earn his way back into her good graces).

It’s not the first ludicrous and impractical idea he’s had in the past year, nor will it be the last, but it’s certainly one of the more radical ones.

“Merlin’s beard, I’ve already told you,” Sebastian sighs. “Since we’re going forward in time rather than back, this is an unauthorized use, and in case we get stuck in the future, we might need your ancient magic.”

“So I’m an insurance policy?!” you demand.

“Not so much for Sebastian as for me,” Ominis answers plainly. “He thinks he’s got it all sorted out, but I’m not as sure.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Sebastian interjects.

You huff and roll your eyes. “Need I remind you that using a Time-Turner to go forward is expressly forbidden by the Ministry? It’s only to go back.”

“Loads of people have done it, though,” he argues. “I’ve been reading all about it, it’s well-documented.”

“And they’ve all come back to the present?” you demand.

“Yes,” he snaps. “...For the most part.”

You scoff. Unbelievable.

“Do you two honestly think my magic is just an unlimited get-out-of-Azkaban-free pass?” you hiss. “I have no idea how to manipulate time and space. If we get stuck there, we’re stuck there.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out like you always do,” Sebastian mutters distractedly as he fiddles with the Time-Turner.

You glance at Ominis pleadingly and he just shrugs.

“You know we can’t let him go alone, we’ll never get him back,” Ominis reasons.

“Is that such a bad thing?” you grumble.

Sebastian shoots you a warning look before he holds up the Time-Turner for the both of you to inspect.

“I have it set to jump forward twenty years,” he explains. “We’ll have to get cozy before we go, as we’ve all got to be wearing it. Physically, we’ll land precisely where we are now, at the same time of day.”

“What if the layout of the Library changes?” you ask skeptically.

“The castle hasn’t changed in centuries,” Ominis points out. “Compared to its history, two decades is indeed quite short.”

“...Fine,” you finally mumble. “Go on, then. Let’s get this over with.”

The three of you stand in a tight circle in a spot tucked away behind some shelves, hoping to remain hidden there after you make the jump forward in time. Sebastian drapes the thin gold chain connected to the Time-Turner around the three of you; it even seems to stretch and extend in length to fit. Then he murmurs a brief incantation to the enchanted timepiece and spins the innermost piece a whopping twenty times.

Your stomach lurches while it turns over and the world around you seems to spin out of control, almost like one of those Muggle carousel rides you saw once as a child. You can barely make out years and years of students and professors walking around you – through you, even – and countless books sliding on and off the shelves until everything comes to a sudden halt and you fall straight to the floor.

Ominis and Sebastian tumble with you, winded.

“That felt bizarre,” Ominis wheezes. “Where are we? Did we travel anywhere?”

“N-no,” Sebastian breathes. “Everything else just… traveled around us.”

You glance around the Library and see that as Ominis had suggested, it looks largely the same. There are some newer books among those you recognize on the shelves, their spines less creased and dyed with more vibrant colors than those of your time.

One title jumps out at you: Advances in Practical Conjuring, 1900-1910

We’re in the 1910s, you think bewilderedly. We’re in a new century.

Mercifully, the layout of the library seems to be largely unchanged. Rows and rows of dimly lit stacks stretch along the length of the grand room with two winding spiral staircases leading down to the lower level.

Once you catch your breath, the three of you cast Disillusionment on yourselves and huddle together to make your way downstairs to the Restricted Section. Ominis leads the way with his wand extended to search for any lingering students or restless ghosts, having long since proven that his spatial awareness bests both yours and Sebastian’s even without his sight.

Your trio makes it downstairs and past the first row of shelves before Ominis stops in his tracks. Sebastian collides with him and then you knock into Sebastian, causing you both to hiss some choice words at each other.

“What’s going on?” you demand in a whisper.

“Someone just came in,” Ominis explains. “The librarian is at the desk and she hasn’t noticed, but a student is coming down the stairs.”

Sure enough, across the room you see a faint flicker of light and can just barely make out the outline of a small student sneaking down the main stairs – must be a young one, you think, no more than thirteen.

“I think it’s a girl,” you offer. “I can see her just over there.”

“What’s she doing?” Sebastian whispers.

“I’m not sure yet,” Ominis says carefully. “She’s past the desk, the librarian didn’t see – oh, for Merlin’s sake.”

“What is it?” you breathe.

“She’s going straight for the Restricted Section,” Ominis mutters. “Just our luck, I suppose.”

The three of you remain crouched behind the shelf while you watch the girl creep ever closer to your hiding spot. You’re panicking inside your head, wondering what possible seams of the universe might immediately be torn to shreds if she were to spot the three of you, but thankfully she seems single-minded in her mission to gain access to the locked collection of books across the room from you.

“She’s tiny,” Sebastian snorts. “I suppose the young ones are even more bold in the future.”

“Weren’t you about her age when you first started to sneak into the Restricted Section?” Ominis reminds him.

Sebastian insists, “No, I was fourteen. I didn’t go in until Anne was attacked. She’s got to be twelve at most, maybe even a first year.”

“Will you two be quiet?” you hiss. “She’s going to hear you!”

Across the room, the Disillusioned girl pulls a key out of the pocket of her robes and starts to insert it into the lock. A girl her age wouldn’t have mastered Alohomora yet, you think, nor would it be effective on this kind of lock. You have no idea how she managed to get a copy of the key, however.

“Do you suppose we could just go in after her?” Sebastian proposes. “She’s nearly got it open, we should take advantage of that.”

“Are you mad?” you scoff. “We can’t be in there at the same time, we’ll get caught!”

“So what if some little girl from the future sees us?” Sebastian argues. “Why wouldn’t she believe we’re just students from her time doing our own research?”

But before you can further explain to Sebastian how astonishingly stupid that idea is, the girl across the room gasps softly and drops her key to the floor. In front of her, the lock is glowing red as if it’s searing hot.

That’s a new security development from your time, you think. It’s rather lucky the three of you didn’t discover that the hard way.

Immediately, the young librarian leaps from her seat and hustles across the room to the Restricted Section’s gated entrance much faster than Madam Scribner ever would have.

“Hang on…” you say under your breath. “Is that – that’s Sophronia!”

“Who?” Ominis asks.

“Sophronia Franklin, she’s a fourth-year in our time,” you explain distractedly. “She’s always lingering in the library, of course she takes over for Scribner once we finish school.”

“I know her,” Sebastian chimes in. “Tried to get me to play a game of trivia in exchange for returning a book on curse breaking I’d been waiting for. Rather precocious, I thought.”

You glare at Sebastian and he merely rolls his eyes.

“I didn’t mean it in a flirtatious way, I was referring to her choice in books,” he grumbles. “Merlin, you’re protective of her.”

“She’s a sweet girl,” you murmur, appreciative of the fact that Sebastian can’t see you blushing. Truthfully, you don’t think much about Sophronia these days, other than that she absolutely cannot catch the three of you in her Library as she’ll easily understand what you’re up to.

Before you can try to convince the boys to call it quits and return to the present, Sophronia rounds the corner and the girl’s Disillusionment charm melts away in surprise.

“Anne-Marie Sallow!” she calls out. “Just where do you think you’re going?”

At once, the three of you freeze.

“Did she say ‘Sallow?’” hisses Ominis. “Did I hear that right?”

“I – no. No,” Sebastian stammers. “There’s no way that’s what she said.”

“Apologies, Madam,” you hear the girl say with a cheeky lilt to her voice. “I was just looking for a book for my aunt, that’s all.”

Just then, Sophronia leans down to pick up the dropped key and all three of you catch a glimpse of the young girl’s face. She’s probably around twelve, like Sebastian had guessed, but her face… Merlin, she could be your younger sister.

Her slightly-upturned nose is nearly identical to yours, only she’s got a small smattering of freckles across hers. Then there’s her chin, which juts out just a bit like yours does, and you’re too far away to make out the color of her eyes but you’re positive that they’re almond-shaped just like your own.

Now that you think about it, her hair is tied back like you always did with yours when you were younger – braided with a green bow at the end, only her hair is a rich, warm brown color.

“...Is that you?” Sebastian asks softly. “How. How are you doing this?”

“That’s not me, I’m right here,” you remind him.

“Hold on, what am I missing?” Ominis whispers.

“That girl looks exactly like this one,” Sebastian insists. “She’s got her nose, her eyes, her face shape. It’s like there’s a second-year version of her, standing right across from us.”

“We’re twenty years into the future,” Ominis reminds you both. “...What if she’s your daughter?”

You feel like the room is starting to spin around you again, and you find yourself pitching to the side before Sebastian quickly tugs on your arm and pulls you back behind the shelf.

“Do not go daft on us now,” he mutters. “I don’t care if that is your daughter–”

“She’s your daughter too, you know,” Ominis chimes in. “In case you were wondering.”

“Wh… What?” Sebastian stutters, and Ominis gestures for the two of you to listen in.

“Goodness, Miss Sallow,” Sophronia sighs. “You really are so much like your father, always sneaking into the Restricted Section.”

You watch as the girl puffs up her chest proudly, a mischievous smirk on her face that doesn’t strike you as particularly like you at all – but rather Sebastian.

“I’ll gladly take that as a compliment, Madam Franklin,” Anne-Marie says.

“While I respect that you are both voracious consumers of knowledge, he, like you, had little respect for the rules of the Restricted Section,” Sophronia continues. “I’ll have to ask you to leave until you get permission from a professor for relevant research or turn fifteen.”

Anne-Marie is still arguing with the librarian as she’s being escorted out. “Perhaps if you would just let me borrow the book for a while–”

“I’m afraid I’ll also have to give you detention this time,” Sophronia interjects. “I can’t keep looking the other way simply because I owe your mother a favor. This is the third time this term!”

Anne-Marie huffs and folds her arms. “But my godfather–”

“Your godfather is a very busy man who would undoubtedly appreciate it if you spent more time staying out of trouble,” Sophronia finishes, “than trying to emulate your father. In fact, I think Ominis would agree with me that one Sebastian Sallow in this world is quite enough!”

Well, that certainly clears things up.

Sophoronia marches Anne-Marie up the stairs and out of the library. The three of you, having already forgotten your original mission, put your heads together without a word so Sebastian can drape the Time-Turner around your necks and return you to the present.

You collapse in a heap on the library floor, but this time it’s fully empty – even the librarian’s desk light is extinguished. You sit in silence for a few moments, and you and Sebastian don’t dare look at each other. Eventually you force yourself to stand and offer Ominis a hand up, steadfastly ignoring the other boy.

“So,” Ominis finally says, barely concealing his smile. “When exactly is it, do you suppose, that the two of you fall hopelessly in love with each other?”

You both curse at him at the same time, and Ominis throws back his head and laughs.

“Shout at me all you want, but that little girl is proof that the two of you are destined for each other,” he crows. “Oh, how brilliant!”

“Come now, Ominis,” Sebastian says with a nervous laugh. “You don’t seriously think that girl is, what… our child or something?”

“That’s precisely what I think,” Ominous answers, smirking. “You said it yourself, she looks exactly like her mother.”

“Stop!” you interject. “I’m not anyone’s mother, in case you forgot.”

“Perhaps not yet,” Ominis agrees primly. “I imagine it will be several more years before Sebastian makes you one.”

Sebastian goes deeply red while you sputter indignantly.

“Thats – that’s foul, Ominis,” you insist. “It’s untoward to even be talking about this!”

Sebastian folds his arms and raises an eyebrow. “Really? You’re that offended by the very idea of us having a child together? I’m hurt.”

“W-well, I just meant that we shouldn’t talk about things that haven’t yet come to pass,” you explain nervously. “Besides, all that is years away. Decades, even.”

Sebastian glances sidelong at you, and you wonder if you’re imagining the way he looks you up and down.

“Right,” he says slowly. “It’s not like we know anything for sure, obviously.”

“Of course,” you agree. “...I don’t suppose you have any other family members named Sebastian? Distant relatives, perhaps?”

“Why?” he drawls. “Looking to snag a cousin of mine so I won’t be the one to father your children?”

You shove him right into one of the bookshelves, but he laughs like he doesn’t regret it one bit.

“Now now,” Ominis murmurs. “You ought to be kind to your future husband, you don’t want to damage his virility.”

“I have half a mind to put a dent in Sebastian’s virility right here and now to save me some trouble later,” you reply, casually aiming your wand at his groin.

“Have you gone mad?!” he stammers as he takes several steps backward. “Put that thing away!”

“Oh, will you please relax?” you sigh. “We just saw one of your descendants, your ability to procreate is in no danger.”

“You could still put me in the Hospital Wing,” he sulks. “Besides, it’s not just procreation that I use it for.”

Ominis snorts. “Unfortunately, I am intimately aware of that.”

You make a face while Sebastian grins cheekily, offering no apology.

The three of you start to make your way toward the exit into Central Hall, ignoring the weak protests of the prefects stationed outside. As you make your way back toward the Slytherin common room, you all fall silent again, lost in your thoughts.

You aren’t sure how you’re supposed to forget what you saw, you think. In the future, you have a daughter. Her father is Sebastian Sallow, and… and she’s brilliant. Beautiful, courageous, more than a bit headstrong, and as determined as you both are if not more so.

You catch yourself actually grinning, and when you glance over at Sebastian, you see the same expression on his face.

“Anything you care to share?” you ask him.

“I know we probably shouldn’t talk about it,” he starts, “but there is one thing that girl said that I won’t soon forget.”

“What’s that?” you ask.

He’s quiet for a moment, and then he admits, “I heard her say she’s looking for a book for her aunt, and you haven’t got any sisters.”

You smile softly and reach for Sebastian’s hand. “No, I don’t.”

He lets you take his hand in his to give a reassuring squeeze.

“She’s still alive,” Sebastian says quietly. “She… she’s still sick, probably. But she’s still alive in the future. She meets my daughter, and she knows her.”

“She does,” you say. “And – and maybe we don’t quite know how that happens yet, but you can have a little faith, Sebastian. Things will work out the way they’re supposed to, and Anne will be with us for a long, long time. There’s still plenty of time to make things right again.”

He nods wordlessly but doesn’t drop your hand.

Just before you arrive at your common room, Ominis stops in his tracks.

“Hang on… Her name, Anne-Marie?” he asks you. “That sounds like something Sebastian would have picked. How generous of you.”

“Aww,” Sebastian laughs. “You must be so in love with me by then to let me pick the name.”

You grit your teeth and ignore them as you murmur the password to the giant stone snake guarding the door, hoping to get some well-earned rest and be rid of these boys for the night.

“Don’t worry, darling,” Sebastian says as he ducks around you and slips inside the door. “I’ll let you pick the name for the second one, and we can duel for rights to the third.”

You go running off after Sebastian and holler, “You bastard Sebastian Sallow, how many damn children are you expecting?!”

Ominis quickly pulls the door shut behind him and shakes his head.

“Godfather,” he mutters to himself. “I’ll never know peace, will I?”

---

[Get to know more of the Sallow kiddos in "the train ain't even left the station" ❤️]

[physalian]

10 More Character Types the World Needs More of

Part 1 was specifically character dynamics, but I’m considering this a sequel anyway.

1. Fiercely independent character’s lesson isn’t to “trust people”

I’m not projecting. You’re projecting. There is a divide wide enough to fit the Grand Canyon between “trusting that someone isn’t lying” and “trusting someone to follow through on a promise”. Most dumpster fire attempts at these characters (almost exclusively women) rely solely on mocking them for the former because “not all men” or something.

Being consistently let down in life makes you hesitant to a) gain friends, b) pursue romantic interests, c) maintain familial relationships, d) get excited about any event that demands participation from someone who isn’t you. None of this is simply a bad attitude—it’s a trauma response. There is no lesson to be learned, and not even exposure therapy can help because it’s a real, legitimate, and common stunt people pull, whether they mean it or not.

So write one of these characters and legitimize their fears, give them someone who proves the exception to the rule, but do not let the lesson be “well they just haven’t found the right person yet”. Even the “right person” can let them down. It's about not becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy by sabotaging a good thing to prove it will inevitably go bad.

2. Conventionally attractive men who aren’t horndogs

I’m going to find every way I can to tell you to write more aces. This is to fight the stigma that attractive people must be attracted to people. Give me gorgeous aces and demi’s, men, women, enbys and everyone in between, who put a crap ton of effort into looking their best, and yet happen to not have a very loud libido. They look good for themselves, and not to impress anyone else.

Give me someone who could have anyone they wanted, gender regardless, and just simply has no interest. Or, they do actually have a significant other, but sex, how hot their partner is, or how horny they are, isn’t their internal monologue. I don’t even care if it’s unrealistic, it’s annoying to read.

And, you know, giving men male characters who aren’t thinking about sex all the time can be good, right? Right?

3. Manly warrior men who also write poetry

A.K.A Aragorn, Son of Arathorn. Just give me more Aragorns, period. This dude is either covered in filth, blood, guts, and the last 30 miles of rugged terrain, or singing in Elvish at his own coronation while pink flower petals fall. A man can be both, and still be straight.

A man can also drink Respect Women juice, you know? He ticks off all the boxes—he’s gentle when he needs to be, not afraid to hide his emotions, kind to those who are vulnerable and afraid and need a strong figure to look up to, resolute in his beliefs, skilled and knowledgeable in his abilities without being arrogant or smug, and the first boots on the battlefield, leading from the front.

4. Characters who are characters when no one is watching

This is less a specific type and more a scene that doesn’t get written enough. This whole point comes from Pixar’s Cars. I. Love. This. Movie. It’s not Pixar’s best, for sure, but this is my comfort movie. The best scene, one that’s so unique, is when Doc (aged living legend) thinks he’s alone when he rolls out onto the dirt race track and comes alive tearing around the oval.

This character’s unbridled, unabashed glee and euphoria at proving to himself that he’s still got it, when he’s completely unaware of his audience, is perfection. Not enough credence is given to characters to just… enjoy being themselves. He’s not doing it to prepare for the climactic race, he’s not doing it for the plot, he’s doing it just to do it, not even to prove Lightning wrong—just for himself.

Give your characters a “Doc Racing” scene. Whatever their skill is. Maybe they’re a dancer, a skater, a swimmer, a painter, sprinter. Just let your character love being alive.

5. Characters whose neurodivergence isn't “cute”

A.K.A. Lilo Pelekai from Lilo and Stitch. Really, her relationship with Nani is peak sibling writing. But Lilo herself is just so realistic with how she interacts with the world, how she interprets her relationships with her so-called friends, how she organizes her thoughts and rationalizes what she can’t quite understand, and how friggen smart she is for an… 11-year-old?

But she’s not “cute”. As in, she wasn’t written by generic Suits who were trying to cash in on the ND crowd by writing what they think will sell, but also making her juuust neurotypical enough to still be palatable by the rest of the audience. Lilo’s earnestness is what endears her to everybody. But also, she doesn’t get a free pass for her behavior, either. Her “friends” aren’t forced to accommodate her and Nani isn’t written as the cold-hearted villain for trying to discipline her.

6. Straight male characters with female friends

Am I double-dipping a bit here? Yes. While I completely understand how tempting it can be, this type of character is in dire need of exposure and representation to prove it’s possible. No weird tense moments, no double-glances when she isn’t looking, no contemplations about cheating on his girlfriend (and no insecure jealous girlfriend either). Just two characters who enjoy each other’s company and are able to coexist in a space and be in each other’s spaces without hormones getting in the way. Peak example? Po and Tigress from Kung Fu Panda.

Let these two rely on each other for emotional strength in times of need, let them share inside jokes, let them have a night alone together at a bar, at home, cooking dinner, getting takeout, talking on the patio in a porch swing… with zero “will they/won’t they.”

7. The likable bigot

I’m actually on the fence with this one but it’s something I also don’t see done often enough and I’m adding it for one reason: Bigots aren’t always obvious mustache-twirling villains and the little things they do might seem inconsequential to them, but are still hurtful. So showing these characters is like plopping a mirror down in front of these people and, I don’t know, maybe something will click. They don’t have to be MAGAs to be dangerous, and only writing the extremes convinces the moderates that they aren’t also the problem.

Example: I have a “friend” who recently said something along the lines of “I have lots of gay friends” followed up shortly by “I don’t think this country should keep gay marriage because it’s a slippery slope to legalizing pedophilia.” You know. The quiet part being that she *actually* thinks being gay is as morally abhorrent as being a pedo. But she totally has lots of gay friends. Including one who was driving her during that conversation. (It’s me. Hi. I’m apparently the problem, it’s me.)

She’s absolutely homophobic, but the second she stops announcing it, she’s a very bubbly person. She’s a ~likable~ bigot and thus thinks she can distance herself from the more violent ones.

8. The motherly single father

I say “motherly” merely as shorthand for the vibe I’m going for here. “Motherly” as in dads who aren’t scandalized by the growing pains of their daughters, and who don’t just parent their sons by saying “man up boys don’t cry”. Dads who play Barbie with their kids of either gender. Dads who go to the PTA meetings with all the other Karens and know as much if not more than they do about the school and their kids’ education.

Dads who comfort their crying kids, especially their sons. Dads that take interest in “feminine” activities like learning how to braid their daughter’s hair, learning different makeup brands, going on nail salon trips together. Dads who do not pull out the rifle on their daughter’s new boyfriend and treat her like property. Dads who have guy friends that don’t mock him and call him gay. Dad who does all this stuff anyway and is *actually* gay, too, but the emphasis is on overly sensitive straight men’s masculinity here.

Wholesome dads: a shocking amount of single-parents to female anime protagonists.

9. The parent isn’t dead, they’re just gone

Treasure Planet is an awesome movie in its own right, but what’s even better? This is a Disney movie where the parent isn’t dead, he’s just a deadbeat who abandoned his son and isn’t at all relevant to the plot beyond the hole he left behind for Jim to fill. The only deadbeat dads Disney allows are villains and those guys are very vigorously chasing an aspiration, that aspiration just doesn’t include quality fatherhood. Or motherhood. Disney has yet to write a deadbeat mom, I’m almost certain.

I just wrote a post about the necessity of the “dead parent” cliche, but what is perhaps more relatable because it’s more common, and what earns even more sympathy and underdog points for the protagonist? The hero with the parent who left. Then there’s a whole extra layer of angst and trauma available when your hero can now plague themselves with the question of if the parent leaving is their fault. Death is usually an accident. Choosing to abandon your kid is on purpose.

10. Victim who isn’t victim-blamed or told by their friends (and the narrative) to forgive their abuser

Izuku Midoriya lost so much support from me the moment he told his friend, bearing the consequences of domestic violence across half his face, that Midoriya thinks he’ll be ready soon to forgive his abomination of a father. I am firmly in the “Endeavor is a despicable human and hero” camp and no I’m not taking criticism. I audibly gasped when I heard this line and realized Deku was serious. Todoroki needs friends like the Gaang to remind him that he's allowed to hate the man who's actions caused the burn scar across his f*cking face.

I understand that the mangaka apparently didn’t anticipate the vitriolic backlash toward Endeavor during his debut and reveal of his parenting tactics but the tone-deafness of telling a fifteen year old with crippling emotional management issues and a horrible home life that his abusive dad in any way deserves and is entitled to forgiveness on the grounds of being related is disgusting.

Take it back further to a more famous Tumblr dad: John Winchester. Another despicable human who got retroactively forgiven by his sons after his death in a “he wasn’t so bad, he really did try” campaign. It’s one thing if the character believes it, it’s a whole different matter if the narrative is also pushing this message.

Katara is a perfect example: She lets go of her grudge for her own peace of mind and stops blaming Zuko for something he had no hand in, stops blaming him simply because he’s a firebender and he’s around to be her punching bag. She doesn’t forgive the man who killed her mother, because that man doesn’t deserve her forgiveness. Katara heals in spite of him, not because of him, and had she let him off the hook, she would have gotten an apology for getting caught, not for what he did (which is exactly what happened).

[behidethetrees]

Mike schmidt as your boyfriend hcs ꩜

Pairing: mike schmidt x fem! Reader

Contents: slight angst if u squint, Fnaf mention, Reader and mike are sooo cute hehe

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 .❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

-You and Mike met in 1983 when you were 15. Mike was smart in the things you werent, So you two made a deal that you could copy off of him . One day when you were walking down the halls you saw the meanest boy in school Trying to bully mike and it pissed you off.

-You pulled the boy off of mike and punched him with no hesitation, Mike was so sure there were hearts in his vision. You were brave and fearless, But you were also gentle and caring when you offered help if he was hurt, He wasnt but He had never wished he was more than on that day.

-Thats when you two started becoming close. At first it was small talk or friendly banter but it slowly turned into never being seen anywhere without each other.

- One lucky day in december of senior year he decided to tell you how he felt in the garden you had showed him. Mike was never romantic, He didnt know what to do or say, So he did whatever guys did in the movies he’d seen. He handpicked you some beautiful pink flowers and wrote you a cute but short letter and handed it to you.

-You accepted his feelings and looked at those puppy dog eyes that crinkled as he smiled.

-Mike is very loyal. He has your initial around his neck and he talks about you almost all the time. (Abby tells you all about it) He has even gotten into a few fights for you, He always defends you even if you aren’t there.

-As mike got older, He starting learning the old way of love. He opens all doors for you, The occasional flowers and cute poems he writes for you, the sidewalk rule, He really knows how to treat his lady.

-Mikes Love Language is definitely quality time. Youre the love of his life and he wants to be with you always! There are alot of times where mike doesnt know what to say or show you how much he loves you. But you know he does by the way he follows and takes you everywhere. How he offers to spend time with you when he gets off of that strange nighshift where he works, Even if it means he gets no sleep.

-Mike is a family man. He loves his little sister and you love her too. You and Abby have a bond that was fun and ‘girly’, in mikes words. (Mike wears bracelets you and abby make for him) When Mike opened up to you about his brother and his parents one day, You just put your head on his shoulder, letting him talk and not mentioning how his voice would wobble and crack every once an awhile.

-Mike struggles with his emotions and mental health. When he feels like its getting bad, He tends to distance himself but you reassure him you are there for him no matter what. You hold mike whether hes crying or not and whisper sweet words into his short curly hair.

-Mike is very jealous and protective. He tries to not to show it but its obvious. His arm slinged over your shoulder everywhere, Making sure everyone knew you were his. Even when you talked to people, He subconsciously glared at the people taking your attention away from him. Mike eyes, that could be so welcoming, were cold.

-Mike loves the date nights you plan for the two of you. Whether it was going out or staying in, He loves being in your presence.

-Mikes favorite part of everyday is at night when you two would cuddle while talking about your future together. He wants to spend the rest of his life with you and hes thrilled someone like you wants that with him too.

A/N!!!: happy halloween!! What are u guys going as? Me and my bf are going as mavis and johnny :3

Hope you enjoyed!

Requests

Taglist: @nowitsmissing

[confused-wanderer]

So- uh.. Batman started journaling days when he adopted Robin because he had no idea how to handle a kid-let alone a murderous one- and was trying to note down important information like what the child likes and doesn’t, what triggers them etc etc.

He also maintains a separate series detailing their interactions with villains and notes on if the child should be allowed near the villain and vice versa along with rules to implement with children and procedures to follow in case of their meeting.

Damian has five volumes written after him, which still continue to this day. Tim’s had fifty, Stephanie’s had twenty, Jason’s had eighty nine. But Dick? Dick has a hundred and twenty, atleast fourth of those written within his first month as robin. Why?

Exhibit 1

Batman: Ivy, listen to me-

Ivy: NO Batman! They’re destroying ecosystems, hunting endangered species, poisoning the rivers and-

Robin!dick *eyes in shock* : Is this true Batman?

Batman: .. yes

Robin!dick: oh..so why aren’t we helping Miss Evie?

Ivy:

Batman:

Batman: uh..because she’s breaking the law

Robin!dick *crossing his arms* : But didn’t you say the system is flawed? And how sometimes matters need to be taken into your own hands?

Batman: Hold on-

Robin!dick: Come to think of it, is what we’re doing legal? You steal police information and beat up thugs. If you’re doing it to save lives, so is she!

Ivy *enjoying watching this stubborn child making batman sweat as he tries to argue and eventually agrees to help Ivy in a better way, giving Dick a flower when he leaves*

Bruce knows that Dick would absolutely not mind sabotaging factories or blowing up shit with a supervillain. All he needs is a good reason.

Exhibit 2

Riddler: Aha! Now.. riddle me this-

Robin!dick: .. Why are you so ugly?

Riddler: ..wha-

Robin!dick: And are you lonely because there are better ways to find friends.

Hours of insulting later

Robin!dick; If you’re so smart, tell me this: What animal roars when threatened, laughs when hungry and burrows underneath for the entire year, very dangerous to humans but a herbivore and tiny?

Riddler:

Riddler: * a few hours later, on his knees after complying with every one of batman’s demands, going hysterical and pulling out his hair while rocking back and forth*

Batman *getting increasingly concerned* Robin tell him

Robin!dick: Nope! *walks away*

Riddler spent fifty days in Arkham. The riddle still haunts him to this day. Dick doesn’t know the answer either.

Exhibit 3

Penguin *appears*

Gremlin Dick who’s been waiting to kick the shit out of someone: GOLLY BATMAN LOOK A PIÑATA!

Batman *running after Dick before he murders Penguin*

This is why none of the villains bat an eye at the bat kids antics anymore. And whatever they do, they thank their lucky stars they’re not as bad as the first one was.

[the-daily-dreamer]

The targaryen ruled 130 years without dragons. And the most capable kings were all targaryen. After them it was a decline for the throne. Robert, joffrey, tommen, cercei were all sith ruler .

I see targ stans are investing in high quality air to fill their heads lol

But anyways. “The most capable kings were all targaryens”. You know who else were targaryens? The worst rulers of Westeros. Robert, Cersei, Joffrey, and Tommen aren’t even close to the worst kings and queen to rule. And bringing them up as evidence to show that the targaryens are good is so disingenuous.

Maegor the Cruel, Aegon the Unworthy, The Mad King Aerys, Rhaenyra (yes, I know that’s controversial), and Daenerys (yes, I know that’s even more controversial) are all far FAR worse than anyone you mentioned.

Maegor killed his wife and her entire family. He was a usurper (apparently it’s good when the targs you like do it lol), a kinslayer (also a thing only good when it’s targs you like doing it), raped and tortured many people, wiped out entire houses, killed any and everyone that he saw in any way as deserving, and created a huge war with the faith of the seven.

Aegon the unworthy was corrupt and lazy and legitimized his bastards leading to the blackfyre rebellions that led to endless bloodshed for 5 generations.

Aerys was so bad he had a rebellion staged against him that ended his family dynasty. He burned fathers and sons together. He tortured people and burned them alive. He abused and raped his wife when he would burn people alive. He wanted to kill the entire city of kings landing.

Rhaenyra (who like it or not went down in history as one of the worst rulers) known as maegor with teats taxed her people to starvation. She had daily executions. She had knights inquisitors hunt down and punish people.

Daenerys burnt down kings landing, was complicit in the rape and enslavement of hundreds, ruined city economies so badly slavery was a better option, then profited from said slavery, abandoned the people she conquered (no doubt ensuring they will be enslaved much more harshly after supporting her), raped a “free” slave that she admits still acted like a slave because that’s all she knew, oh yeah and again, SHE BURNT DOWN KINGS LANDING. And this is after the people you listed.

And this isn’t including non Targaryen rulers that ruined lives like the blackfyres. Or rulers that are bad but weirdly beloved like Aegon I who basically conquered people by threatening to kill them and everyone they loved, subjugating a country for hundreds of years.

The best rulers I admit were Targaryens. But that’s because they were the only rulers save for 4 people. Of those four, two were bad and two were incompetent. Not nearly the sadistic “mad” people I described above. And funnily enough, as soon as a Targaryen came back to power…things got worse again. Funny how that is.

Oh and by the way. Going with the histories of Westeros. Guess who is among the best rulers according to small folk Aegon II and Alicent. Seethe :)

[edgeray]

“LATE NIGHT DEVIL, PUT YOUR HANDS ON ME

and never never never ever let go”- Teeth, 5 Seconds of Summer

Mafia AU! Arlecchino x Reader Oneshot

Author's Note: It's been a while since I've actually published anything on here. Well, my gay ass is back with another oneshot. This one has been in the works for at least a month. I'm considering making a Part 2, but that will definitely take at least a couple weeks for me to publish (if not months). I wish I was kidding. School literally hates me and my teachers are incessant on killing my GPA. This is also a gift for @megistusdiary because it'll be her birthday when I post this. Please go check out her blog for amazing genshin wlw content (especially Arlecchino content!) Would you guys like this on AO3 as well?

Content Warning/Info: This is a long af oneshot (6.3k words), long af descriptions and kinda long intro, Arlecchino is referred to with they/them pronouns, implied female but no usage of feminine pronouns for Reader, general dark-ish content, pet names, Arlecchino is a lil scary, I've never been to a club so I apologize for the very inaccurate information, nor have I ever been apart of the mafia so also inaccurate, a bit suggestive but otherwise sfw, if I'm missing anything feel free to tell me!

---

Monsters are said to have lied underneath beds–waiting to ensnare an unknowing victim–or stalk hidden among the depths of a closet–awaiting an opportune moment to strike its next prey. Monsters are fabled entities that are used to scare off children from bad behavior and are quickly eased from the mind by coddling parents. The mere notion of a monster shooed away like a pesky fly, swept underneath the subconscious like forgotten specks of dirt. 

You know otherwise. Real monsters don’t lurk on the undersides of mattresses; no, they lurk both in the skies above and the depths below. They do not stalk dark closets because they instead stalk alleys in daylit streets. Monsters are very real, that you know is true since you’ve seen your fair share of them. You’ve met monsters in person–they’ve come to you before. Terrifying is an understatement for them, and each time one has appeared as a client, you’re no less scared shitless.

You’ve learned that even inhumane demons find themselves in need of entertainment; like the sinful creatures they are, they seek self-pleasure. And that is how you found yourself in this particular circle of hell, meant to serve and please demons, devils, and monsters alike. Perhaps it was a revolting job, working at a strip club run by a criminal organization but it paid decent money for being danced on the fingertips of whoever you were unfortunate enough to be assigned to.

If it was a regular strip club, being an exotic dancer would have been fine. It wouldn't be so bad. Lustful and prying eyes can be accustomed to quickly, and so are the flattering compliments and the awkward flirting by middle-aged married men. However, there was a difference between lecherous and predatory gazes. Here, you aren’t even viewed as a person, no, the clients here, those that come in reeking of smoke or blood (though sometimes both), armed with knives and guns on their person, see you as nothing more than a toy or prey for them. Even in the eyes of your employer, you're less than human in their eyes. 

‘You harm our merchandise, you’ll pay for it,’ is the warning given to every guest when they first enter. Merchandise. That's what you are. And that single line of words is the only thing that assures you of your safety among mafia members, gangsters, crooks, and whatnot. You've heard that the organization behind this strip club does well in enforcing that rule according to other dancers, but you personally don't want to see if the statement is true. You've been here for a little over a year, and besides bruising grips and pulled hair you’ve surprisingly yet to be seriously injured in any way. So maybe monsters do have a little humanity in them. 

You're quickly growing to be a fan favorite as of recently, which means more money goes your way, but you're not sure how you feel about all the attention on you. It's most likely because of how often you offer private dances and private rooms to clients. Whatever gets you the most money; the faster you make money the faster you can pay off your debt and be out of here. 

Tonight is supposed to be no different from other nights. You perform on stage, you rile up the crowd, you get showered in tips, and if there is a customer that looks mentally sane enough not to murder you in private, you take them to the back. Except, tonight, you're approached by your boss, who informs you that the entirety of the club was reserved by the Fatui, a well-known mafia more powerful and larger than the one that backs you up, for some celebration. These kinds of occurrences in the club rarely crop up, but when they do, they're often the most opportune time to bag in an abundant amount of money. Big shots like the Fatui pay and tip well, but there's one unsaid risk that comes with this: as a mere dancer like yourself, your life quite literally dangles in the Fatuis’ hands tonight. The organization that owns this establishment can't retaliate against the Fatuis if they so choose to dismiss the warning. They can't even compare to the might of the Fatui.

Simply put, if a Fatui kills you tonight, no one could do more besides bat their eyelashes. You're not at all pleased with this predicament of practically bordering on death, especially when you know one wrong move with one too hot-tempered Fatui could land you at the pearly gates. Keep pleasing the crowd, keep entertaining them, keep racking in the money, you remind yourself as you continue your dance, twirling around the pole sensually, and the customers devour every movement with their eyes. The only comfort you're given is that you've heard the Fatui are quite reasonable and diplomatic most of the time. This is especially true for the Harbingers, you've heard, the twelve most elite members that serve under the Tsaritsa, and the ones that are the most exclusive customers this night. That doesn't mean the Harbingers are any more humane than the average crook. Having worked in a strip club run by the mafia and surrounded by criminal organizations, the more rumored something is, the more dangerous it is. They can be considered devils amongst demons even. That's simply how vile they're supposed to be. 

The most concerning problem about the Harbingers is that you don’t know what they look like, only the occasional whisper has alluded to how to distinguish between the twelve. Perhaps, you can survive through the night if you try not to draw too much attention; let the other dancers shine instead and hope you don’t get requested for a private room or dance. That way, you can ensure you don’t end up dead. 

Your time to go upstage comes sooner than you’re prepared for. Your hands are clammy, and your form trembles in a way that only happened during your first month. Both reactions don’t make for a very good combination when your survival relies on you not fucking up and disappointing criminal customers. As you approach the pole, just like every time you’ve done, you make sure that the crowd’s gazes are in the backdrop of your mind, and instead, fixate on repeating the movements you’ve been taught and have mastered with your experience. Bet your survival on the provocative sway of your hips, the practiced showcase of your legs, and the allure of your dancing form. Beguile the crowd, but not too much, just enough to wow them. From what you can tell by the volume of the crowd, you’re doing a good job pleasing the Fatui enough. Your body stops tremoring after a few minutes on stage, and with one last final push of courage, you focus your eyes on the crowd before you.

Unsurprisingly, the makeup of the Fatui are men, though there are notably quite a few women. Either way, all of their attention is on you. As your eyes scan across a crowd, for one reason or another, you stop at a particular set of eyes near the back of the crowd. Intent, pitch-black abysses stare back, like they were trying to bore into your soul and devour every single motion of yours. They don’t quite hold the same ravenous desire as many of those before you right now, you mentally note with curiosity. It feels like your form is being calculated, in the way a predator would cautiously observe their next prey, a sensation you’ve experienced a few times, but each is no less chilling. The weight of their engrossed gaze causes you to shiver momentarily, and you snap away from their disturbing gaze to prevent any fumbling or faltering while you’re on stage. 

Tonight marks the first time you actively seek out the same viewer while on stage, or even, during your entire time here. For some reason, you feel awfully bold, or curious, whichever two comforts you more, and unlike the meek little rabbit you usually are, you instead search for the viewer’s gaze. You find the pair of eyes with relative ease, as you remember that above their eyes are distinctive snow-white strands with streaks as black as their orbs. You take a moment to study them, and they remind you of a lion–or lioness–among hyenas. The aura they exude varied quite a bit compared to the other Fatui in front of you: not rambunctious, or arrogant; it's apparent they held an aura of indomitable authority just from the way they held themselves. Perfect posture with their clasped hands nested in their lap, with one leg raised over the other. They’re an embodiment of perfected elegance, however, much like a porcelain doll, they’re also expressionless, their appearance unmarred. You don’t examine the Fatui’s form for much longer because their scrutiny on you pricks at your skin irritatedly. 

You don’t look for them again throughout your performance. In fact, you hope you never meet those charcoal pits again. You’re afraid that if you do, you’ll be ensnared by whatever beastly claws or fangs you know that Fatui hides underneath that impenetrable mask. The moment your time on stage ends, you rush back to the changing room to shake off your nerves. You sit down at a nearby chair, taking in deep sighs as you attempt to forget how you were stared down like a you were cornered, defenseless animal. And that is what you are, as much as you hate it. There’s nothing that can protect you from the Fatui. Maybe if you hide, never show your face for the rest of the night, they’ll forget they ever saw you and they’ll target another dancer. Surely, that will work, won’t it? 

You’re able to steady your breathing before you can delve into a panic attack. Tonight, you decide, you’re not going to take any customers to any private rooms or take any private dances. You’d be missing out on a lot of money, but your life is more of a priority as of currently; not after the ‘encounter’ with that individual, you don’t want to think about how many more are just like them, hiding in the crowd like they were awaiting an opportunity to pounce on your vulnerable form. 

Unfortunately, it seems like someone else has other plans for you because your manager storms into the room asking for your whereabouts before his eyes narrow on you. You immediately sit up, stiff as a board when he practically marches his way towards you. 

"Someone wants you." 

You sigh and shake your head. You should have known. "Not tonight." 

He clicks his tongue. "You know I can't allow that tonight." 

You bite your lip. "Just pass them to someone else." 

"They're not someone you or I can refuse." 

"Who?" You question with a shuddering breath, your nails digging into your thigh. 

"The fourth one. The Knave. Lord Arlecchino."

Fuck your life. You might as well pull the trigger now. You’ve heard faint whispers of each Harbinger from the customers audacious enough to speak of them. The youngest, the eleventh, charming and boyish. The ninth, money-obsessed but a pretty looker. The eighth, elegant and cold, yet no less alluring. The seventh, as human-like as their robotic creations, which to say isn’t very. The sixth, is hotheaded and mysterious. The fifth, unknown. And the fourth?

Insane. Ruthless. Bloodthirsty. That’s how the fourth is described. You shiver at the horrors that appear on the forefront of your mind when imagining what may come for you. If you're lucky, you'll be alive at the end of the night, more than likely clinging to the edge of living. 

“Well? What are you waiting for? Get ready as soon as you can.” 

And you do. It’s not long until you stand in front of the private room’s door, your guest is already inside more than likely. The Fourth Harbinger is waiting, you remind yourself, fruitlessly trying to swallow down your stress. You can be dead the minute you step inside, this room could be marked as your grave. Whatever he tells you to do, you’ll obey wordlessly to survive. Just nod along, smile, and do whatever it is that he tells you regardless of the demand. You inhale deeply, regaining some ease of mind, before you bring your knuckles to the door, knocking. 

“Come in,” comes a deep, flat voice, slightly muffled by its distance but what surprises you is how feminine the Harbinger sounds. Maybe you got the wrong room. You glance back at the room number plate on the door, and it’s the room you remember your manager mentioning. It’s the right room. Maybe someone else? You don’t have time to wonder, however, as you enter the room, knowing that if it is the Fourth, it wouldn’t be wise to keep him (Her? Them? You’ll just stick with ‘them’ now.) waiting. 

“Lord Arlecchino?” You inquire as you enter the room, closing the door behind you. Sucking in a harsh inhale, you instantly recognize their distinct hair. It’s them. Your sight is immediately greeted by the figure sitting on the couch before you, sitting in exactly the same way you discovered them–crossed-legged and lounging back with unfaltering confidence. The Knave wears a scarlet blazer over a black compressed turtleneck, with a matching set of crimson leggings. Upon closer inspection, you’re able to make out red irises in their jet-black eyes. Despite the blatant and literal red flag, something about their appearance draws you in even when they scream danger. They’re… you’re not quite sure how to describe them. You admire the unblemished and pale skin, their elegant and rugged demeanor is like the perfect balance between femininity and masculinity. Are they beautiful, or are they handsome? You think both. 

Arlecchino stares back at you like they’re considering devouring you then and there. You can’t suppress the shudder that runs down your spine. You’re a sheep before a wolf. There’s something so chilling about them that even with your experience with other clients, none has ever made you feel this way with just their mere gaze alone. This is what separates the average crook from one of the most powerful mafia members you've ever heard of.

You wait for a response but they only continue to observe you. You take the silence as confirmation to your question and that they’re anticipating something from you. Biting back a sigh of resignation, your hands hook underneath the band of your bra top and you lift it just the slightest amount before a cutting voice makes you freeze.

“What are you doing?” the Harbinger demands, their tone chilling and apathetic, making you want to shrink in yourself immediately. Your blood pumps loudly in your ears and your hands tremble a bit. Something about how designing their gaze makes you suddenly self-aware in a way you’ve never felt before another client–you’re practically half-naked in front of them with your skimpy bra top, undergarments, and fishnets and now is the only moment that you've actually considered how little covering is on you. 

Why are they stopping you? Isn’t this what they wanted you to do? Or maybe they just want to do it themselves. Those types of customers always have the most bruising of grips and suffocating of holds. You stiffen at the notion. How are you going to survive this night with a Fatui Harbinger of all things? How many of your limbs are going to be fractured and how many of your bones are going to end up broken? 

“I…I’m undressing,” your meek voice sounds out and you hate the crack in your speech. The Harbinger continues to scrutinize you. You don’t dare continue disrobing yourself. 

There are several beats of wordless response before they then stand up from the couch. 

Oh shit. You’ve fucked up. Are they going to kill you now? Is this your end? 

Every thought is telling you to run in the opposite direction as they stalk up to you, but you're petrified as you realize with a chill that they’re taller than you. You’re not short by any means, a bit above average height, but they tower over you, looking down at you from above and casting judgment on you like a god. Once they stride toward you, you avoid eye contact by looking straight, observing their neck and clavicle that protrudes from underneath the fabric. You tense when they raise a hand, their manicured fingers placing themselves underneath your chin and long, carmine nails dig into the underside of your jaw, making you wince. They forcefully tilt your head, raising your focus onto their face. 

It’s like they plunged their hands down your throat and ripped out the oxygen from your lungs, leaving you unable to breathe. Up close, the first thing you notice is their lips, plump and red from their lipstick. Briefly, you wonder what color their lipstick would look on your skin. Then your eyes travel up, red-crossed eyes gaze back at you and you gape quietly at the distinct shape of their pupils. You swear that their pupils flash red as you finally lock eye contact with them. 

“Did I tell you to?” Their tone is cold compared to the strange softness of their handsome (beautiful?) face. 

Something in your gut coils inwardly and you want to look away, but their firm hold on your chin prevents you. You bite your bottom lip to repress a whimper. You’re delicate glass in their hands, and they can break you so, so easily. 

“No, sir.” Only the numerous times you’ve said this phrase ensures you don’t stumble over your words. They don’t answer promptly, but as they observe your features, their lips quirk up the slightest amount. 

“You know how to address me. Very good,” Arlecchino purrs after several beats of silence, in a low, oh-so-sultry tone, and oh. Oh. 

You’re not sure why, but their last two words make your stomach churn, but not in a discomforting way. In the way that lights a fire underneath your skin and spreads heat to every part of your body. You’ve never quite felt this way with another customer. You couldn’t believe that your body reacts this way just from a single praise but it doesn’t stop the pooling heat in your bowels. The chill down your spine still remains in place, but there’s an off-putting equilibrium of iciness and fervor generated from the client. 

The Fatui’s eyes stay fixated on you wordlessly until the hand on your chin turns your head, finally breaking you free of their intense behold. Their grip slackens so that they can trace their nails gently down your throat, every inch of surface their fingertips brush against ignites a blaze on your skin. A shuddering exhale leaves your lips and it seems like they take notice because from the corner of your eye, the small uptick of their mouth grows. Despite how sensual and probing the Harbinger’s touch feels, there’s nothing lecherous about it–purely just intrigue and fascination. It’s a touch you both have and never experienced before. Cold nails rake against your throat, not enough to mark or scratch, but enough to invoke shivers. 

You’re aware you should be terrified, but for a reason you can’t pin down, you can’t jerk away from their touch. You try to reason with yourself it was only because you’re one upset away from getting yourself killed but that reasoning falls apart when their hand gingerly traces your jawline and you make the softest of groans, a barely audible noise of content. Unfortunately for you, the sound seems to have reached Arlecchino’s ears and their expression softens slightly: their eyes narrow less and their brows aren’t as creased. And that smirk–if you could even call it that from how faint it is–becomes a half-smirk. 

They pull their hand away and your trance is broken, reality returning back to you as you remember that the person before you is still a Fatui Harbinger, no matter how bizarrely melting their touch was. They turn on their heel and walk towards the couch in front of you; the slightest bit of heaviness is placed on your heart. You remain stationary where you are, observing them as they seat themselves gracefully on the couch, and their attention encounters yours again. Their black pits hold expectancy in them. At first, you’re clueless as to what the criminal desires from you, but then their legs spread apart, an inviting gesture that beckons you and every rational thought leaves your easily swayed mind. Your heart skips a beat, and you're sure this time it's not out of trepidation. 

Even if you didn’t command them to, your legs would take you to their seating figure. You stand before them, feeling blatantly disrespectful to look down at Arlecchino, but you await their order. They lean back, lounging laxly against the couch, their posture never lacking their usual self-assurance. It only ties the knot in your gut tighter. You’re aware of what they’re instructing you to do, but the absent confirmation makes you hesitant. It seems like the Knave picks up on this because the room echoes with one definitive spouted word from their lips, authority and dominance ringing through their husky voice. 

“Sit.” 

Your legs buckle underneath you from the one-worded response, the demand only stoking the consuming fire inside you. Eager to please, you perch yourself on their lap, straddling them, your knees pressed into the furniture below you and encasing both of their thighs between your own. 

Oh, you think to yourself as your legs make contact with their thighs. They're firm. And for some reason, that provokes your stomach to churn in itself even more. You're so close to them, enough to feel their breath cascade against your skin. 

As you seat yourself, you nearly clumsily topple over, instinctively grasping onto their shoulders for support. Their shoulders are remarkably broad, you regard, well-muscled as well. Their hands creep up on your hips, steady but gentle hands grasping on each bare side of yours to stabilize you. The heat that radiates from their hands is infectious, regardless of the nails that burrow into your plush waist. For the first time, you flush considerably, a sweltering inferno forming in your cheeks and your head fills with dizziness. Their touch is gentle–something you rarely experience with customers–so, so gentle that you would describe it as heavenly. How can someone so inexplicably vile have heaven on their fingertips?

It's not a position you never found yourself in. In fact, it's far from the first time you've been like this with another client. But here, as you're sat on top of the Fatui Harbinger, and red x-pupils search yours, a foreign feeling passes through you. Placing your finger on it, you dubiously think it's bashfulness, but the heartbeat that sings in your ears and pulses underneath your fingertips tells you otherwise, tells you it's something more. Against that, you remove your grasp on their shoulders and place your palm flat against the couch’s surface behind the Knave. 

You squirm a bit, nervousness in your form as you remain as still as you possibly can, waiting for any more instructions. All you need to do is act like an obedient doll for them in order to survive; compliance is the best way of ensuring survival with people like these. You feel like you're merely eye candy from the way that their attention flits across your body, but you're immobile throughout the entirety of their observance. Being looked at is much better than any physical interaction. Their hands still cup your hips, but slowly, they descend to the side of your thighs, making your skin feel tingly. 

Impulsively, you mumble out a quiet "Sir…" as strange sensations brush against your skin. 

The sound surprises you and you feel on edge as their eyes travel from your lower half to your face. You gulp considerably. From their stare, they expect more of a response, a reason for their addressment, but even you don’t know yourself; it seems like an unconscious calling that just rolled off your tongue. You cow underneath their gaze, even when the two of you are at eye level. When you linger in quietude, their hand releases one of your thighs and lifts to your face, supporting your chin while their thumb rests on your bottom lip, unfurling it just the slightest amount to implore an answer from your now parted lips. Gleaming scarlet pupils grip your regard sternly, piercing into you and instilling you to spew something out. Except, you still can’t, now too entranced and lost in the crimson. 

“Doll.” 

Despite the pet name, it's devoid of any affection or warmth. It's a word that drips of command, a reminder of your place: simply a toy that they can play with however they want, a manipulated and decorated plaything for their amusement. That means you answer to them, and so when they request a response, you're under the obligation to please them. Your survival is in their palms anyway, if they wanted you to dance, you would just so they wouldn’t strangle the life out of you. 

However, its implication doesn’t prevent the tingling shudders that wrack your body nor the involuntary clenching of your thighs around theirs. Was it the gravelly voice that aroused your behavior? Your cheeks flare at the knowledge that Harbinger sensed the physical reaction. It shouldn't be possible. It shouldn't be possible, your thoughts repeat, but then they're interrupted by: 

"Oh?" Arlecchino inquires to themselves, a stark amusement in their speech. Their red glare illuminates slightly, replacing the lost darkening with a faint glow in their pupils, and the corner of their mouth curls up. It is only then that you discover something entirely new: that monsters can be sinfully, cataclysmically, terrifyingly beautiful and the sight before you is the most exquisite example. A devil has you wrapped in its claws and its fangs readied for devouring but it’s disguised as an ethereal angel; blinded by their perilous allure, you mistake their snow-white hair, their lustrous piercing rubies, their flawless porcelain skin, and their burning, fleeting touches as traits of a seraph. From a measly smirk, you forget the atrocities lying underneath their fingertips and dismiss the hazard their presence holds. 

The hand on your thigh rakes its fingers up, red nails trailing across the surface of your fishnet, wrenching out a breathy gasp from you as they travel inwards. Tingling pleasure injects into your veins as you subconsciously lean in, imploring for further sensual contact. A plea sits on your tongue and nests in your eyes as you beg them through your pitiful expression. They drink in your desperation with a slow swipe of their tongue over their lips, and that single action is debauched enough to elicit a soft groan from your throat.

“Well, aren’t you an amusing toy?” They drawl out with a preposing rasp and dark abysses glint with an insatiable hunger. 

They smirk enticingly, their thumb running across your bottom lip and smearing your lipstick on their thumb pad. Their grip on your chin tightens a bit, pulling you even closer to them before a shadow casts over you when their face nears. Before you can even fathom their intentions, they descend upon you, closing the distance between the two of you. Your lips are greeted with something pillowy soft and fervently warm, and you sharply inhale from the sensation. Every one of your nerves sings frenziedly, your muscles tense all over, and your heartbeat drums deafeningly in your ears–all of this as your body is engulfed in a fervid tornado of heat that makes you lightheaded with pleasure. It takes you several beats to realize the reason for this is that Lord Arlecchino, the Fourth Harbinger, the Knave is kissing–no, kissing is far too intimate, devouring–you voraciously like they're trying to rob you of any air, trying to imprint themselves on your mouth. Their mouth dominates yours, pushing against them with a deep fervor and famished urgency, eager to swallow every bit of shocked noise you make. 

You close your eyes and allow yourself to indulge. 

You first taste lipstick with a waxy flavor hitting your tastebuds. It’s cold against your lips, yet warm at the same time. But the physical texture and flavor of their lips are irrelevant; there’s only one true manner you would distinguish their taste: 

They taste like sin. 

The type of sin that’s chocolate coated and sprinkled with colorful toppings; depravity so sweet and charming it makes you reconsider the bounds of right and wrong. Degeneracy is far, far tastier than anything you’ve indulged in before. How can something so evil be so heavenly? Cushiony soft, placidly warm, flatteringly zealous, it’s like having a dance with a devil; so unequivocally immoral but no less gratifying. You question if they really belong to the Fatui because how can something like this come from such? You want to engrave the texture of their mouth onto your memory, feel this faux intimacy even when you’ve long parted. The Fourth Harbinger, you surmise as you surrend your will to them, is decadent–the only word that can be defined as both wicked and delectable at once–the perfect word to describe them. 

The last remaining bit of reasoning comes to the backdrop of your thoughts and begs you to not be swept away in the heavenly embrace. You discount it in favor of accepting this godsent gift by leaning further with a weak imitation of their ravishing lips and pressing back. It’s a feeble attempt to match their insatiate nature, far too domineering and forceful than you can manage but they display a token of appreciation when they squeeze your thigh, indenting your skin shallowly with the burrowing of their nails. The action exposes just how sensitive you’ve gone underneath their touch and you reward them with the sweetest of sounds. 

“Arlecchino,” you mumble with half-lidded dazed eyes in between ravenous exchanges and it evokes a depraved throaty growl from the Fatui, like provoking a call from a starving beast. They lean deeper to indulge in your taste. The gruff sound reaches your ears and it’s like a psalm–you shudder from its musical melody. 

Their clutch on your jaw releases and their fingers outline your jawline before snaking to the back of your head. Well-manicured digits entangle themselves in your hair, and there’s a gentle shove against your skull that forces you deeper into the kiss. Your hands clutch onto the couch underneath you as tight as you physically can for any sense of grounding and your knees attempt to close in even more to feel more of their body against yours. The hand on your leg, in turn, caresses the length of your thigh. 

Every graceful touch, stroke, and brush exudes an unyielding and infectious warmth that only adds to the stoking fire in your gut, and you’re bathed in so much swelter from the ecstasy that you feel dizzy. Yet, you never want it to end, you grow more addicted and drunk with each encounter of their lips. That, paired with your strained breathing, prompts your stamina to falter much sooner than the Harbinger’s. You let out a soft whine to signal your depleting oxygen, and their mouth unlatch with yours, pulling away despite your ache for more. With the separation comes a small string of saliva attached between the two of you, evidence of the shared intimacy that’s snapped when they lick their lips. The hand behind your head detangles from your hair and you silently mourn over the loss of contact. 

You heave for air, your chest rising and falling rapidly. You’re a little perturbed when you notice that they’re not even out of breath, a small but firm reminder that they’re as inhuman as humans can be. That knocks a sense of reality back into you. Customer, mafia, Fatui, Harbinger, it comes back to you like a train. Here you are swapping spit with them while in the lap of potentially the most dangerous criminal you could ever meet, but fuck were they a good kisser–you’ve never experienced anything that came close to this in your lifetime.

Any foolish doubtful contemplation of the morality of this interaction is swept away just like that when you hear:

“Greedy little thing that you are,” they regard with the most cunning and handsome of smiles, discrete amusement dripping from their words. Their dark pits behold you entirely, the same way they have always done when it seems like they were contemplating what part of you to savor the most. Only this time, you’re not so disturbed by the notion. If anything, the swirling heat in between your legs suggests the opposite.  

Greedy wasn't a word often associated with you, yet you couldn't more correctly describe yourself in that moment. Greedy. Greedy for a Fatui Harbinger no less. As ashamed as you should be, there's no use denying that you crave for their touch, for their gaze, for anything and everything they're willing to give you. You want everything and more. The more you contemplate, the more it seems obvious why you wouldn’t. Are they a devil disguised as an angel, or are they an angel that fell from grace? Regardless, they bring nirvana to you. An incessant desire bubbles inside you, your throat swelling up with an urgent request on the tip of your tongue. Would they allow such a thing if you plead? Would they be offended by your impudence? Would they punish you for such? But the necessity outweighs any reconsideration of your insolence and the supplicant beg tumbles out of your loose lips. 

“Can I… touch you please, my Lord?” You croak out, wincing at just how wretched it comes out. The response from them is not immediate as the two of you stew in silence, a building sense of dejection inside of you. The expression on their face noticeably contorts, smile lessening, their brows furrowing, and their red x’s glinting dimly. Their free hand raises to near your neck and you suck in a harsh breath as their fingers enclose around your throat. The mere action sends a stinging reminder to your lust-dazed thoughts about their position, and a chill pierces you. 

Mafia, Fatui, Harbinger, the Fourth Harbinger, the Knave–the labels cycle through your thoughts. Though their grip is lax, not exactly suffocating and giving ample space to breathe, their fingertips does acutely jab into your skin, a display of their impressive grip strength. You have no doubt that they can suffocate you with one hand alone, snap your neck, or, as your mind ventures into more harrowing territories, crush your skull. Those thoughts alone has you breathless with anticipation. A heavy weight suddenly appears in your gut, so heavy that you feel like you can’t move so much as a muscle. 

Did you just go too far? Was that too much to ask? Was this how you were going to die?

The reflex to gag and inhale combat each other in your throat, a discomforting sensation that crawls up your spine while you tremble. You’re almost certain that the nails have penetrated the layer of skin, drawing beads of blood that’ll trail down your mark. You whimper at the prickly pain. Yet, in all your unease, the most masochistic thought arrives briefly at the forefront, and you can’t help but consider: this position is just as intimate as all the other interactions. You’re already so vulnerable in their lap, does the hand around your neck change your peril in any way? No, you’ve been a defenseless lamb to a slaughter the moment you’ve stepped into the domain of a menacing wolf. 

Ah. Even now, you can’t dismiss the warmth of their fingertips. 

“Do you still want to touch me when I do this?” They demand callously, their voice harsh and reverberating through the room. Their grasp closes more around, and you feel your supply of oxygen inhibited. Tears begin to brim your eyes, but you’re undeterred. Unlike Arlecchino’s, your answer is instant and breathless. Your eyes intently lock on theirs, the hardened expression enough to satisfy their question. There’s no need for contemplation. Danger, you determine, is addicting. 

“Yes.”

The previously small smile stretches across their lips considerably. Content, or dare you say it, thrill writes itself over their face and the boulder previously pressed against your shoulders is lifted. Your throat is freed from their hold, but their touch doesn’t halt there. Instead, they rotate your head for you to face to the left, exposing your side profile to them. From the corner of your eyes, you watch as their face draws closer to your skin, hot breath cascading across the small dents her nails created. The one on your thigh finally leaves, moving to one of your hips, tender strokes across your flushed surface. They lean forward, and moist, plush skin meets yours. Lips traverse over the length of your neck, teeth scraping against, making you weakly groan. It takes all of your will to still your body, only allowing for the Harbinger to do whatever they desire to your form. Their touches are burning, burning, burning–so hot that you wonder if you’re experiencing a heat wave. Peppered kisses follow the edge of your jawbone, all the way up to your earlobe. A wet kiss graces your ear and then the most sinful of statements dignifies your eardrums, like a devil whispering hymns directly into your ear. 

“I think I’ll keep you to myself after this.”

A short hum follows afterward. 

“If you want to touch me, you’ll have to work for it. You’re only mine for tonight, aren't you? Entertain me. Give me a private dance, doll. After all, you have me for all night.” 

---

Link to M-Alexa's amazing art and how I imagine Arlecchino to look like in this oneshot.