#who will take over? who is going to suffer for it? how is that going to affect the fragile peace with the qing?

[determinate-negation]

if i could take a second of your time to look at mohammeds campaign @save-mohamed-family

this is #192 on el-shab-hussein's Vetted Gaza Fundraiser List

as ive said in other posts, i'm managing mohammeds GFM now because he was having issues with the previous host. he had to start over again so i really want to thank everyone who donated so far for helping restart this campaign

however, its been going really slow the past few days and mohammed really can not afford that. he needs funds to prepare as the weather gets colder and continue buying medicine for his kids, who are suffering from skin diseases. being displaced during the winter with very little shelter is already a nightmare and prices for everything that people might need are extremely high.

i just got paid yesterday, and i know a lot of other employed people probably got paid too. when a portion of our taxes (and this applies to a lot of different countries) and governments efforts are going towards supporting israel's genocide in palestine, i think we have an obligation to direct what we can towards helping families survive this. i will be donating to this campaign and i really implore you to donate, or if you can't, share this with someone who can.

he's lost so many of his family and friends in this genocide already, and this could save him and his family. every donation really adds up and the success of these campaigns depends on collective participation, no matter how small.

$14,471 raised of $50,000

[lucysarah-c]

Levi's horrible flirting skills part 11. Final

Masterlist link to all the previous parts.

"That’s how I wanted to catch you.” 

"Tch." Levi walked down the cobblestone streets, his jacket slung over his shoulder, the night air warm and filled with the fading echoes of festivities. The stars glittered above, their brilliance almost drowned out by the city's dimming lights. He avoided eye contact, rolling his eyes at the pointed comment, feeling the call-out was entirely unnecessary. 

“Shame, shame on you,” Erwin’s deep voice reverberated in the empty street. The commander and Hange stood by a nearby gate, both awaiting a cart to take them home. Erwin's icy blue gaze was fixed on Levi’s head, as if trying to will him into submission through sheer scrutiny. 

But Levi, ever unbothered, leaned back against the wrought-iron gates of the manor where the party had been held, content to wait in silence. 

Hange, unable to contain themselves, giggled beside Erwin. “What’s with the long face, Levi?” they teased, reaching out to poke at Levi’s sides in an attempt to draw a reaction. 

Levi shot them a withering glance, raising a single eyebrow but maintaining his stoic facade. “And you? I didn’t see you all night. What hole did you crawl into, four eyes?” 

Hange’s smile faltered, their usual cheer dimming as they leaned back against the gate. “None of your business,” they muttered, crossing their arms defensively. 

“That’s what I thought,” Levi murmured, a slight smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “There’s honour among thieves, right?” 

The cart finally rolled up, the sound of its wheels breaking the silence. Erwin let out a long-suffering sigh, clicking his tongue in disapproval. “You two are incorrigible,” he muttered, sounding like a weary parent at the end of their rope. “I swear, I’m not taking you two anywhere ever again.” 

Hange broke into laughter again, but Levi nudged them, their voice laced with mock seriousness. “And who else are you going to bring? We’re the only ones left,” they quipped, before Hange’s chuckles burst into full-blown laughter at the absurdity of their own joke. 

Levi had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing, his hand covering his eyes as he struggled to maintain his composure in front of his superior. 

— 

Levi finished saddling his horse, meticulously preparing his equipment for the upcoming expedition. He moved with precision, checking the horse’s hooves to ensure everything was in perfect condition; the animal was his trusted companion into battle, and no detail could be overlooked. He was nearly done when Hange rushed over, their steps hurried and chaotic, papers and blueprints haphazardly clutched under one arm. They were clearly late, scrambling to finish preparations. 

“Erwin got mad for real this time,” Hange blurted out, still catching their breath from running around with the last-minute tasks that had piled up on them. 

Levi glanced up, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “I told you not to press your luck that night,” he said, tightening the straps on his saddle without missing a beat. 

Hange huffed, shuffling through their papers. “Oh, please. Like you’re one to talk,” 

The two fell into step beside their horses, the steady clatter of hooves on the cobblestones mingling with the sounds of soldiers readying for the march. They moved purposefully through the city, navigating the controlled chaos as soldiers took their positions. The massive gates loomed ahead, towering and imposing, the final barrier between the city’s safety and the uncertainty beyond. 

Levi walked alongside his horse; his gaze fixed ahead.  As they approached the gates, he was just about to mount when a familiar tug on his jacket stopped him.  Usually, citizens knew better than to get that close. Perhaps kids could get a bit excited, but everyone generally respected the formation.  He turned, finding Y/N slipping through the crowd to reach him. 

Pushing through the crowd with a sense of urgency, Y/N finally reached Levi. “Hey,” she said, a bit breathless, as she stepped into his personal space. 

Levi, momentarily stunned, managed to echo her greeting with a dazed, “Hey.” His hand still gripped the reins of his horse, which shifted slightly, sensing the tension. 

“I…” she began, searching for the right words. “I thought I should come by and wish you luck.” 

The moment hung awkwardly between them, both unsure of how to proceed. They were like two people trying to navigate a conversation where the rules were unclear, both wary of overstepping boundaries. 

Levi’s attention shifted as he glanced at the formation of his squad, the urgency of their departure pressing on him. “Thanks,” he said, his voice softening slightly, though his focus remained on the task at hand. “I don’t have much time.” 

‘How is this done? Do I... like, kiss her here or...?’ 

‘No, the last thing I need is my cadets seeing me kiss her. I’ll never hear the end of it. Too much PDA for me, no thanks.’ 

Y/N, sensing the awkwardness, fumbled with the package she had brought. “I—I didn’t know what to get you, but I thought this might be nice.” She pushed the makeshift bundle into his hands, her fingers brushing his. 

Levi looked down at the bundle, then back at her. His usually guarded expression softened ever so slightly. He accepted the package, his grip lingering for a brief moment of silent gratitude. The weight of the gift felt both tangible and symbolic. 

Around them, the few remaining citizens cast curious glances, especially other women who watched with interest. Levi, uncomfortable with the display of affection, tried to smooth over the awkwardness. 

“Thanks,” he said, his voice sincere and low. He tucked the bundle into his saddlebag with meticulous care, as if securing it was as important as his weapons. “I’ll see you when I get back.” 

Y/N nodded, her gaze following him as he prepared to mount his horse. She could feel the eyes on her, the whispers and murmurs, and exchanged a few sharp glances with the group of girls nearby. Then, with a determined tug on his cloak, she forced him to turn around. 

Gripping his forearm, she leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. “I’ll be here, so don’t keep me waiting.” 

Levi stiffened at the unexpected gesture, unsure how to react. After a moment’s pause, he gave a curt nod. “I’ll come back.” 

He turned his attention back to the slowly opening gates, nudging his horse forward with a firm resolve. As the city’s lights faded behind him, the cool night air enveloped him. 

Later, around the campfire, Levi sat on an improvised seat, the tired soldiers gathered around as the night grew darker. With the titan movements lessening without the daylight, Levi pulled out the container from his saddlebag. The package rested between his parted legs and stained white trousers from all the heavy work as the formation tried to reach forward on titan’s territory. The sight of the sandwiches, reminiscent of those from their second date, brought a rare smile to his face. 

‘I sold my dignity to land a girlfriend and crawled back to her like an idiot with no self-respect... for this,’ he mused, reaching for a sandwich and savouring the taste. ‘... worth it.’ 

Just as he was about to take another bite, a hand snaked out, trying to grab a piece from the untouched portions. With his sharp reflexes, Levi snatched the hand away before lifting the container out of reach. 

“Ow!” Hange pouted, nursing their now-sore hand. “Come on, you’re not going to eat all that. Give me a piece.” 

With his mouth full, Levi mumbled, “Get your own wifey.” 

Levi had always been dedicated to his cause, to their cause as Scouts. He had always given his best in every expedition, no exceptions. But as he sliced through the nape of a Titan and landed effortlessly on a tree branch, he couldn’t deny that the memory of her starry eyes looking into his, promising to wait, was replaying in his mind. 

‘There’s no way I’m not returning.’ 

Though he tried to be understanding—she has a job... and three fat little furballs to look after—there was an underlying hope that when he returned, she would be there. Despite their frustratingly interrupted encounter, her coming to see him off had stirred a sense of vulnerability in him that he didn’t fully understand. He didn’t particularly enjoy it, but he didn’t hate it either. 

‘That was so fucking awkward.’ 

‘...hope she does it more often.’ 

It was rewarding, for once, that she was the one taking active steps. ‘Did I really nail it? Are we... together, together?’ While a small part of him was celebrating—Yes, it’s happening—that euphoric feeling was overshadowed by the thought, ‘Now I’ve got to make it last.’ 

Levi sighed deeply as his name was called from another part of the formation. Scratching his undercut, he scoffed to himself, amused by the thought, ‘If that stupid moron Nile, whose brain is as thin as his mustache, managed to get a wife and three kids, keeping a girl can’t be that hard. Just don’t be an asshole, I suppose.’ 

The expedition had been grueling, and by the time they returned, the soldiers were battered, exhausted, and heavy with the losses they had endured. The city gates opened to receive them, but there was no fanfare—only the quiet murmur of the public disapproval.   

Levi dismounted his horse with a weary grace, his movements stiff from days in the saddle. He noticed the makeshift infirmary set up just beyond the gates, a stark reminder of the cost of their mission. Wounded soldiers lay on cots, some groaning in pain while others remained eerily silent. The scene was all too familiar, yet no less sobering. 

Levi paused, his heart skipping a beat when he caught sight of her. She had volunteered before but somehow it felt different this time. There was something about seeing her in this role—so capable. 

He cleared his throat and approached, but the words he had planned to say vanished as soon as she looked up and met his gaze. Her eyes widened, relief and worry mingling in their depths. 

“Levi,” she breathed, standing up. “You’re back.” 

He nodded, struggling to find his voice. “I’m back.”  His body tensed as her arms enveloped him. His hands instinctively moved to her forearms, almost ready to push her off. 

‘Don’t—’ 

He warned himself internally, but he avoided making eye contact with the other medical staff who were watching them. ‘I’ll have to get used to this, or I’ll keep looking like a possum that froze in place to avoid death.’ 

As she parted, her eyes traced over his figure, searching for any sign of injury. 

Levi shrugged off her scrutiny with a sharp “I’m fine. Just tired.” 

She did a quick check on her coworkers that with a single glance reassure her that they could take care of the situation on their own. 

Levi shifted his weight, unsure of what to say but feeling the need to bridge the awkwardness. “Those sandwiches came in handy,” he admitted, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.  

 “I’m glad they were useful,” she said, “I can make more next time.” 

‘Next time,’ 

“I volunteered to help at the surgery tent since I figured I might stay behind,” she commented casually, without rush or fear. 

“Stay behind?” 

A little giggle escaped her lips before she pressed them together, blushing slightly. “I mean, if you want me to stay.” 

“Ah, yes. Sure,” he replied almost immediately. 

‘For that, you’re rather quick, aren’t you? Asshole.’ 

It came so naturally from her. ‘Four-Eyes was right; if we have kids and they turn out charismatic, they definitely didn’t get it from me.’ 

“Did you bring anything?” His eyes scanned the area. “I’ll take it to the office for safekeeping. There are a lot of unfamiliar people walking around the camp.” 

“Oh, sure! It’s in the main tent, a burgundy bag.” 

Levi froze, hoping his usual stoic expression would hide the confusion he felt. “...Right.” 

‘What the hell is burgundy?’ 

“It’s a purplish dark red bag,” she clarified, and Levi nodded, accepting the hint but also realizing she probably noticed he had no idea what she was talking about. 

Before he could say more, one of the medics called her over, and Y/N was needed again. She gave him a quick, apologetic look, her duty calling her back. “I have to—” 

“I know,” Levi cut in, nodding. “Do your thing.” 

— 

“I should have tidied up.” 

The thought would probably sound ridiculous to anyone who could hear him muttering and grumbling to himself; his chambers were spotless. They were always spotless.  But as he walked around, making slight adjustments that only he would notice, there was an anxious energy buzzing under his calm demeanor. He had already showered and changed into a fresh uniform, his hair still slightly damp, and the scent of soap lingered faintly in the air. 

If his place was dirty, what hope was there for Hange’s? 

‘Should I have done more? Lit a candle or something?’ 

It was a ridiculous thought, one he quickly dismissed with a shake of his head. ‘No, that’s stupid,’ 

But as he organized his quarters and took care of the soldiers who had survived, Levi spotted Jean and Eren arguing near a stack of crates. Their voices were low, but the tension between them was evident. Before either of them could react, Levi was upon them, grabbing them both by the collars of their jackets and yanking them close, forcing both teens to bend as he kept their heads under his arms. 

“You two idiots,” Levi hissed, his voice a dangerous whisper. “I don’t care what petty nonsense you’re bickering about. You or the rest of the team. I’m going to say this once, so clean out your filthy ears.” 

Jean and Eren, both startled and slightly terrified, nodded in unison. 

“After dinner, my chambers are off-limits, understood?” 

“Y-yes, sir,” Eren replied, terrified. But Jean whispered, “Why? What happens tonight?” 

Levi’s death glare was enough to shut the other teen up quickly and kill any further questions. “Whatever happens after that time, I don’t care if one of you contracts the Black Plague, the Colossal Titan breaks through the wall again, or you lose a limb. If you interrupt me, I’ll kick your asses so badly you’ll forget sitting was an option. Now pass the message to the rest.” 

Levi released them with a sharp push, causing them to stumble back. “Oi, best behaviour during dinner,” he ordered, and both nodded enthusiastically. 

“What happens at dinner?” Levi could hear Jean whispering to Eren as he walked away. 

— 

“May I take a shower?” She asked as her heels echoed against the office’s wood planks. 

 “A part of me was hoping you’d keep the uniform on,” Levi teased, his voice dropping to a low murmur. As he closed the door behind him and the scrutiny of other’s finished, Levi didn’t anything holding him back. 

She stopped, a grin spreading across her face as she turned to face him. “Is that a kink of yours?” she asked, her tone smooth and teasing. 

Levi felt a rare warmth spread through his chest. “It wasn’t,” he admitted, taking a step closer to her, “until I saw you in it.” 

Her chuckle was soft, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, brushing her fingers lightly over his arm as she walked past him towards the bathroom. 

“Oh, I almost forgot,” she said, turning towards her bag. “I actually have a surprise for you.” 

Levi’s eyebrows raised slightly in curiosity as she rummaged through the bag. 

‘A gift? For me? … Pink lingerie. She knows me so well,’ 

A moment later, she pulled out a small, beautifully wrapped package. She held it out to him, her eyes watching his reaction carefully. 

He took the package, his fingers brushing against the smooth wrapping. “What’s this?” he asked, already feeling the slight weight of it in his hand. 

“Open it,” she urged, her voice tinged with excitement. 

Levi carefully unwrapped the package, revealing a metal box with an intricately designed label. He recognized the brand—it was a high-quality tea, the kind he seldom allowed himself to indulge in. The metallic glint of the box caught the light, and for a moment, he simply stared at it. 

‘Well... she does know me well but in other departments’ 

“My friends brought it back as a ‘we’re sorry’ gift,” she explained. “I thought you might like it—they asked me what they should get you.” 

He opened the box, the faint, earthy scent of the tea leaves rising up to meet him. “This shit is expensive,” Levi said, looking back at her, dubious. 

“Well, let's just say you’re not the only one who finds the uniforms pretty,” she joked. “The employee at the shop also thinks it looks great on my friend.” 

Seizing his opportunity as she turned to head to the bathroom, Levi's hands found their way to her hips, guiding her back toward him with a firm grip. The sudden movement pressed him against the edge of his desk, but he didn’t care. His lips captured hers in a swift, fervent kiss, driven by the impulse of the moment. If he couldn’t find the words to tell her how he’d been counting the days and the miles just to have her close again, he’d show her instead. 

Levi's hands roamed freely, exploring the curve of her waist and tracing the outline of her back with a possessiveness that surprised even him. His lips were insistent against hers, and she could feel the soft brush of his hair against her face. She chuckled and turned her head to the side, but as the kiss broke, he began to trail kisses down her jaw, his hands continuing their exploration over the curves of her body. 

“Ah—Lev, wait,” she said, her hands gripping his shoulders to slow the onslaught. “The shower.” 

“Yeah, we can do it there later too,” he joked, completely ignoring the real reason behind her words. 

His curious right hand traveled downward, slipping beneath the skirt of her uniform and testing the limits of the tights she wore underneath. His fingers—index and middle—slid along the side of her leg, finding their way under the fabric, which stretched slightly as his hand gripped her thigh. 

She moaned into their shared, sloppy kisses, his other hand moving to the back of her head, pulling her closer as they tilted to deepen the contact. Her half-lidded eyes fixed on his reddened lips, their breaths mingling in the scant space between them. 

Levi’s hands reached forward, eager to capture her lips again, but she leaned back. “My uniform is dirty,” she insisted, her voice a breathy protest. “I’ve been working all day.” 

His hands roamed over her, gripping every inch he could reach. “I don’t mind getting filthy if it’s for a good reason,” he replied, pulling back just enough to lock eyes with her. “Besides, what’s the point of having a nurse girlfriend if I can’t enjoy taking the damn uniform off you, huh?” 

Levi leaned forward, sucking along the edge of her jawline. “Ah-” a soft gasp escaped her as she instinctively tilted her head, granting him more space to explore. Her eyes fluttered shut, losing herself in the sensation of his rough, calloused hands moving over her clothes. 

He turned her around swiftly, pressing her body firmly against the edge of the desk, trapping her between the solid wood and his weight. The office had dimmed, the setting sun casting long shadows as it disappeared over the horizon. No one was left on the training grounds; they were utterly alone. The absence of prying eyes gave her a sense of freedom as he pushed her further onto the desk, his hands deftly working the tiny white buttons of her uniform. He stopped midway, the gap just wide enough for him to slip his hand beneath the fabric, savouring the warmth of her waist as he squeezed possessively. 

His grip shifted to her ass, pulling her closer and lifting her slightly onto the desk. “HMP!” a soft yelp was quickly swallowed by his kiss. The cool surface of the desk beneath her was a stark contrast. Persistent lips sucked her collarbones, bite marks slowly turning into shades of purple as he descended. 

He trailed kisses down her body, the sensation of his teeth grazing her skin sending shivers down her spine. 

As he pushed her bra up, her nipples peaked, hardening under the cool air of the room. Levi's hands roamed, one gripping her ass. Then he leaned in, taking one bud into his mouth, suckling it gently. Her breath hitched; hands moved to undo the upper part of her dress but Levi stopped it. 

Levi stopped her, his voice rough as he muttered against her skin, "I want to fuck you in it." 

She smirked, her hair sticking to her forehead as she glanced down at him. His dark hair was a striking contrast against her uniform. Moving her leg up, still clad in her heels, the sole of it landed on his chest and pushed him backwards. 

He blinked, momentarily confused, but his hands quickly moved to grasp her ankle, his thumb tracing the edge of her shoe with a teasing touch. Her cheeky smile as she playfully said, "At least take the tights off. I'm boiling in them." 

The view from below was more than pleasing. Levi's eyes darkened with desire as he held her extended leg, his fingers sliding over the smooth velvet fabric. His attention shifted upward, fingers hooking onto the edge of her heel before carefully setting it aside. His eyes traced the shine of the thighs upwards as he finally locked eyes with the subtle switch of colour of her underwear under the tights.  It became more and more exposed as her skirt bunched up around the desk and Levi, with a firm grip on her ankle, pushed her leg apart and rested it over his shoulder.  

 His lips quirked into a small smile, his hands savouring every inch of her as they travelled up her leg. "Are you hot? Are you melting?" he asked, his voice thick with lust. 

His lips quirked into a small smile, his hands savouring every inch of her as they travelled up her leg. "Are you hot? Are you melting?" he asked drunk on it. 

"I am," she breathed, her tone luxurious, each word dripping with satisfaction as his attention remained fully on her. His hands reached the edge of her tights, his fingers hooking into the fabric, and slowly, inch by inch, he rolled them down. It felt as though he was unwrapping a present he’d been waiting forever to receive, even though he already knew what was inside. 

The other heel followed, and he repeated the process as her legs hovered over his shoulders. "Tell me more," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire, as he reached for the waistband of her underwear. 

"I’ve been thinking of you," she whispered, her voice barely audible, yet filled with need. "Of the other day,” 

Her eyes locked onto his, her chest rising and falling rapidly as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her underwear. "I've been imagining your hands on me, your mouth... everywhere." 

“Is that so? Did you think of me after you left me with a hard on?” Levi said but there was an underneath lurking anger on it.  

He began to playfully bite the inside of her thighs, “Ah-” her head fell backwards, moaning softly. Her redden lips parted, her eyes fluttering closed as he began to peel her underwear down, "Mmm, I did,” she confessed, her hips rocking against the hard wood desk, "I imagined it was your fingers inside me— Mhm!  ah-, fucking me." 

"You enjoyed it, didn't you?" He continued to nibble on her sensitive skin. 

“Yeah,” it came out higher pitched than she anticipated, “Bitting my lower lip so my friends wouldn’t hear me as I felt all soft and ready, wet enough for you to slip right in,” 

Levi's grip tightened on her thighs as he growled, "Fuck, Y/N." His hands moved to her hips, pulling her closer to the edge of the desk. "I want to taste you," he murmured, his breath hot against her inner thigh. 

He leaned in, his tongue flicking against her clit, making her gasp and buck her hips. His hands gripped her ass, holding her in place as he began to tease her with his tongue, licking and sucking in a maddening rhythm. 

"Levi," she moaned, her hands fisting his hair. "More."  

Her hand moved to grip his hair, fingers tangling in his dark locks as she tugged for support. It felt like floating, yet she needed something to ground her. The way her head hung back, and her body rocked against his face made her fear she might fall. 

His cock throbbing in his trousers. He obliged, his tongue delving deeper, tasting every inch of her. He could feel her getting close, her body tensing, her breath coming in short gasps. He wanted to make her come, to feel her clench around his tongue. 

Y/N’s grip on his hair tightened, her knuckles turning white as she pulled him closer. "Levi... please," she begged, her voice barely a whisper. "I'm close..." 

Her body tensed, her hips rocking against his face as he continued to tease her with his tongue. He could feel her getting wetter, her arousal coating his face. “Hmh,” he groaned against her. 

He looked up at her, his eyes locking onto hers as he slid two fingers inside her, curling them upward to hit that spot that would send her over the edge. Her moans echoed in the empty office, her legs tightening around his head, pulling him closer. "Ah, ah!" The moans and the twitching of her body became more rapid, escaping her lips more frequently until she tensed. Both of her knuckles turned white—one gripping his hair, the other pressing against the edge of the desk. Her mouth hung open, silently drinking in the noise as she came against his face. 

Levi didn't let up, continuing to lap at her clit as she rode out her orgasm. He felt her body shudder, her legs quivering around his head. He loved the taste of her. He could do this all night. He had been waiting for so long, that he simply couldn’t get enough.  

He slowly pulled his fingers out of her, his tongue giving one last lick and wiping the dropping from his chin with the back of his hand. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice hoarse with desire. 

She bit her bottom lip in excitement as he said that. He stood up and she quickly moved to grip his shirt to capture his lips in a bruising kiss. There was something in her reaction to his words that tingled in his mind. 

‘She likes this... she like it like this,’ 

His hands moved with urgency, his cock was straining against his trousers, painfully. His fingers found her clit, rubbing it in slow, teasing circles. He watched her squirm, her hips bucking against his hand. He smirked, his eyes never leaving hers. 

"You're so fucking wet," he growled, his voice thick with desire. "You're so ready for me, aren't you?" 

Though his initial plan had been to take it slower, to make it more romantic since it was their first time, he gave in to his instincts, trusting they knew better than his conscious mind what she truly wanted. He unbuckled his belt, the metallic clink breaking the silence. Bending over his desk, he reached into the drawer, blindly searching for a condom. "Turn around," he commanded, his voice firm. "I want to fuck you from behind." 

“And you?” she whispered against his lips, “Did you think of me?” 

"Every fucking night, Y/N," he admitted, his voice a low growl. "I've jerked off to the thought of you more times than I can count." 

He spun her around, pushing her against the desk. "Now, bend over the desk," he commanded, his voice firm. "I want to see your ass in the air, begging for my cock." 

“Ah-” As she obeyed, her body flush against the hard surface, he tore off the condom, rolling it onto his throbbing cock. As she bent over, he took a moment to admire her ass, the curve of it inviting him in. His fingers trailed down her spine, stopping just above her ass. He wanted to savour this moment, to make sure she knew just how much he desired her. 

As one hand hold her hips in position and gave her a little push forward to make her fully spread on the desk, his other hand gripping the base of his cock. The anticipation was killing him. He rubbed the head of his cock against her entrance, teasing her. 

Peeking over her shoulder, she let out a soft, humming moan of both need and pleased surprise at his size. When her gaze met his, her expression was intoxicated with lust. “Fuck me, Levi... fuck me already.”  

He was so close to losing control, to just slamming into her and taking what he wanted. But he held back, wanting to make this last.  

He pushed in, slowly at first, savouring the tightness of her pussy. He groaned, his eyes rolling back as he slowly pushed himself inside her, taking his time to savour the feeling of her tightness around him. Her forehead rested on the rough surface, her breath fogging the area as she felt him bottom out. The pleasure was overwhelming, too intense even to moan. His cock stretched her in all the right places, hitting every spot just right.  

"You feel so fucking good, Y/N," he grunted, his voice a low growl. "You're everything I dreamed of." He could feel her trembling, her walls gripping him. He began to thrust, slowly at first, each movement deeper and harder. "Fuck, you're so tight,"  

“Mh-AH,” his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, “Fuck me harder, Captain,” 

His thrusts picked up speed, his hips slamming into her with a force that made the desk creak beneath them. He gripped her hips tighter, his fingers digging into her flesh as he pounded into her, the sound of their skin slapping together filling the room. 

"You like that, don't you?" he growled, his voice thick with lust. His hand moved up to tangle in her hair, tugging it to force her to arch her back and meet his gaze as he bent over her. "You’ve got me being all nice to you, but then you love it when I fuck you hard, treating you like my little slut." 

Her eyes flickered to his, a subtle chuckle slipping through her lips between heavy pants and soft whimpers each time he bottomed out. He could feel her walls tightening around him, her wetness coating his cock. "Ah—Nhm, that’s it, Cap. Give me the princess treatment, but fuck me like you hate me." 

"Fuck—" Levi grunted, his jaw clenched, frowning deeply as her body tightened around him. It felt absurdly good. "You’re gonna be the death of me." 

“So close so close,” she repeated. Pulling out almost completely, he slammed back into her, his hips slapping against her ass. "Fuck, yes," she moaned, her head falling forward as she gripped the edge of the desk, her nails digging into the wood. He could feel her body tensing, her breath coming in short gasps. He wanted to make it last, to draw out her pleasure, but he was already so close to the edge. 

He reached around, his fingers finding her clit and began to rub it in quick, circular motions. "Come for me, Y/N," he demanded, his voice a harsh growl. "I want to feel you come all over my cock." 

"Mhp! Ah—Levi—" Her half-lidded eyes fluttered, struggling to process the overwhelming pleasure as his hot breath fanned against her shoulder. 

He panted heavily; his voice distant in her haze. "Ah—fuck, yes," he groaned, the words barely reaching her ears as she was lost in the shuddering waves her body sent through her. His cock felt absurdly big, her walls twitching and squeezing around him, making it almost impossible for him to give that final thrust before his hips jerked against her. 

With a low groan, his head fell forward, forehead resting on her back as he rode out his orgasm. 

— 

The subtle glow that seeped through the window and the sheen of sweat on his skin pulled him reluctantly into awareness. It was stiflingly hot, even though it was still early, with the summer sun already piercing through the stone walls and heating up everything in its path. The rising temperatures, even at dawn, offered little relief as every inch of the mattress seemed to radiate warmth. Levi stretched his legs, searching in vain for a cool spot to alleviate the discomfort. 

But as his legs tangled with hers, he cracked his eyes open. He wasn’t used to sharing his bed or simply sleeping on it; if he had been, he might have already decided that thicker curtains were a necessary investment. Yet, the sight of her bare back, the nape of her neck, and her hair splayed across his pillow made it impossible to resist drawing closer. He pressed a kiss to the crook of her neck, the tiny bed feeling absurdly small for them both—but he found no issue with it, as they’d likely end up cuddled together anyway. 

“Hmm,” she groaned, her protest muffled as his nibbles on her shoulder blades nudged her toward wakefulness. “Morning…” 

“Morning,” he replied, his voice rough and dry. He shifted slightly, fitting himself snugly against her back, wrapping both arms around her and leaning in for a quiet kiss. “How did you sleep?” 

She closed her eyes again, still too early for them to stay open. With a light scoff of amusement, she murmured, “Very nicely… but going to bed with my hair wet wasn’t the best idea. It’s going to look a mess now... and I think I need another shower.” 

His fingers combed through her hair, still damp in some places. The smile that tugged at his lips was palpable as he left a final kiss on her head, inhaling the lingering scent of her shampoo. 

“It looks fine,” he reassured. 

“No, it doesn’t,” she countered, stubborn in her opinion. 

“Well, why don’t you try to fix it while I go make us something for breakfast?” he suggested. 

Eyes still closed, she smiled at the prospect. “…Or I could just sleep a little longer while you do that,” she teased, earning a quiet chuckle from him. 

Without further debate, Levi slipped out of bed, watching as she quickly drifted back to sleep, her soft, almost inaudible snores filling the room. 

‘Maybe she’s not a morning person,’ he mused. ‘Maybe it’s best if I just let her sleep.’ 

Levi made his way to the superiors' kitchen. The halls were rather empty at this hour, especially after an expedition when there was no training or responsibilities the following day. The bare minimum after risking their lives. Levi, in particular, hadn’t even bothered to put his uniform on; somehow, walking down the corridors in civilian clothes always felt a bit odd. The familiar weight and playful tug on his shoulder told him it was Hange before they even spoke. 

“Well, look who’s up and about,” Hange grinned, leaning in closer with that mischievous glint in their eyes. “So, how did it go? I want details—give me all the dirty, wet ones too.” 

Levi rolled his eyes but couldn’t fully hide the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “None of your business, Four-Eyes,” he muttered, brushing them off lightly. “Fulfill your voyeur fantasies with someone else.” 

“Oh, come on,” Hange laughed, poking him in the side. “When’s the due date? March? A spring baby! Oh, I’m going to be such a cool aunt!” 

They slung an arm around his shoulders again, eyebrows waggling with playful complicity. Levi’s face darkened into a frown, one eyebrow raising in silent confusion. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Levi kept walking, not even bothering to shrug off Hange’s arm. “There aren’t any kids. I wrapped.” 

For once, Hange was speechless, staring at him with wide eyes. “…But we did all this for that—so you could have those kids you’ve been wanting so badly!” 

Levi’s expression stayed flat, deadpan as ever. “We’ve got the same salary.” 

“And?!” Hange threw their arms up in the air, exasperated. 

Levi, completely unbothered, took his time with each word, like he was explaining something painfully obvious. “Could you afford a kid?” 

Silence settled over the hallway. Hange’s arms dropped slightly as the weight of Levi’s words sank in. “...You’ve got a point, shorty.” 

“Besides,” Levi continued, still calm as ever, “I’d like to enjoy being in a relationship before changing diapers.” 

Hange rested their arm back on his shoulders, falling in step with him again. “That’s if she doesn’t leave you first. You’ll be back to being single before you know it.” 

Levi groaned, sounding genuinely weary. “Ugh, I’m never going back to the dating game. This was my first and last shot at flirting. If she leaves, I’m dying alone.” 

Hange snorted, amused by his serious tone. “Wow, you sound so romantic. But seriously, do you realise from now on you’ll have to go to events, plan anniversary celebrations, make sure she doesn’t think you’re cheating when you two are apart? It’s a lot of work.” 

Levi sighed, the weight of the upcoming responsibilities already pressing on him. “Oh, I know. When you’ve got a girlfriend, you’ve got to be loyal… and attentive,” he said, thinking back over everything that had happened in the past year. “And in my case… thankful.” 

The end.  

Sorry for the delay, but I’ve had some health issues to deal with. Thankfully, I’m doing much better now, though the antihistamines I’m taking make me really sleepy. Unfortunately, that’s caused me to fall behind on my work, which I had to prioritize—haha, as much as I wish I could make a living writing Levi smut, that’s not quite the case yet.  Thank you so much to everyone who sent well wishes and for supporting this story from day one! From the bottom of my heart, I’m so grateful for all the love you've shown this story—it’s truly been the reason I’ve kept smiling. My only hopes are that you enjoyed the ending (or at least didn’t hate it) and that I can write another story that’s as cherished as this one has been.  Lots of love,  Lucy <3 

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @l3visthighs @hannieslovebot @flxrartsstuff @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @katharinasdiaryy @ackermanswifee @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @searriously @blackdxggr @storiesofsung @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-12345 @galactict3a @lemonsupernova @hyuckwon-my-husbands @heyitsd1yaa @sydneyyuu @love-for-faeries-go-burrrr @mandaax @sugacor3 @r0ckst4rjk @vegetasgirl2799 @catiwinky @pinksaiyans @sparklykeylime Wanna join my tag list? Here!

[punkshort]

Can You Remember Who You Were?

Pairing: Dave York x f!reader

Summary: When you struggle to stop obsessing about the handsome stranger you met at a coffee shop who ghosted you after one date, fate eventually forces you back together.

Warnings: language, possessive behavior, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, oral sex (f!receiving), omegaverse dynamics, alcohol consumption, minor physical altercation

WC: 9.1K

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

A/N: For @burntheedges's Roll a Trope challenge I got reincarnation. I also mixed in some a/b/o stuff because I've always wanted to give it a try. Go easy on me, I'm nervous about this one - hope you enjoy. And thank you to @txtattoostark for holding my hand.

When you first met, it was happenstance. An awkward run-in at your favorite coffee shop where he thought your coffee was his until he read your name written on the cup aloud and had the grace to look bashful when he handed it over. A moment later, his own order was ready and you caught the name Dave scrawled on the side. He smiled and raised his cup to you before taking a sip and wishing you a good day before disappearing out onto the busy street.

It was a simple interaction. Nothing terribly special. But you couldn't stop thinking about him the rest of the day.

Dave, Dave, Dave.

Dave, with the soft, gentle brown eyes. Dave, with the chiseled, clean shaven jaw and strong, angular nose. Dave, with the broad shoulders that strained underneath his blue button-down shirt. Dave, with the bare ring finger that still had a visible, yet faded, tan line.

Something about him stuck with you. You felt drawn to him. Connected, somehow, yet you didn't even know him.

After the weekend passed, you managed to clear him from your mind, if only because you stayed as busy as possible. You cleaned your apartment top to bottom. You went to a concert for a band you didn't even like with your friends. You even called your parents and suffered through another phone call where you heard about your brother and sister's lives, how their respective children were, how your brother got a promotion and your sister was thinking of having a third baby. The unspoken question hung heavy in the air, your parents already knowing the answer and predicting your negative reaction by now, so it remained unsaid. But it still stung to be compared to your siblings in that way. Your parents had a skewed notion that maybe it would encourage you to try a little harder if they kept pointing out your brother's success and your sister's natural instinct for motherhood, but it only made you draw into yourself tighter.

Once it was Monday again, you dragged yourself to work. You were so tired from your overly busy weekend that you didn't even think about Dave when you entered the coffee shop. You stood in line, zoning out and in desperate need of caffeine when the door swung open and shut behind you and the sound of dress shoes tapping on the hardwood floors neared.

"Promise not to steal your coffee again."

You swiveled around, eyes wide and heart rattling in your chest when you fixed your gaze on none other than Dave. And much to your dismay, he looked even better than you remembered.

"Oh," you squeaked, subconsciously fixing your hair and glancing around to buy yourself a moment to recover. "Hi again. Two days in a row, what are the odds?" you chuckled dryly, hoping you didn't sound as stupid as you felt. Dave shoved his hands in his pockets and smiled down at you.

"Could've been four but I guess you don't come here on the weekends."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and you struggled to respond. Dave took that to mean he caused you offense and quickly rectified it, not wanting to sound like a stalker.

"I'm just kidding."

You laughed and rubbed the scar on the back of your neck, your head spinning. Was he just kidding? Did he come here over the weekend? And if he did, was he hoping to run into you?

"I work around the corner," you explained, telling him the company you worked for. Your mother would have scolded you for telling a stranger where you worked, especially one who might have just admitted to coming to the coffee shop in the hopes of running into you, but you knew it was safe. You didn't know how you knew, you just knew.

Dave nodded and was about to speak when the barista ushered you forward so you could place your order. Before you had a chance to pull out your wallet, Dave leaned over you to tell the barista you were together and added his order before handing over his card.

You couldn't stop the shudder that went down your spine when you heard him speak so close to you, the vibrations of his voice sending a current of electricity through you. At this distance, you could practically smell him, too, and it wasn't just his cologne. It was something else that you couldn't identify but had you weak in the knees.

To be polite, you turned to deny his offer, but he spoke first. And when he did, telling you not to argue and he was happy to do it, his voice deepened and the timber alone caused your body to weaken and your eyes cast down obediently.

"Do you work around here, too?" you asked once you got your coffees and you thanked him for the third time.

"No, I don't."

He walked towards the door and held it open for you, a fourth thank you slipping from your lips. You got the feeling he liked hearing you so thankful and sweet. He smiled every time you said it.

"What brings you out this way, then? Do you live nearby? I don't think I've seen you here before."

Dave walked you to the corner where a shiny, black BMW sat parked.

"Let's just say there's something about the atmosphere I like at this place."

Your face flushed and you took a sip from your coffee, burning your tongue in the process, while you tried to think of something to say. Then you heard the bells from a nearby church and you were stricken with panic.

"Oh, shit! It's already eight?" you asked, yanking your phone out to check the time. You were already late and you still had a ten minute walk ahead of you.

"Come on, get in," Dave said, holding open the passenger side door. "I'll drop you off. You said it's just down the street?"

You contemplated his offer for about three seconds before nodding and jumping into his car. In only took him about two minutes to drop you off in front of your building but you couldn't stop thanking him the entire way, something that continued to delight him.

The rest of the week followed the same pattern. You showed up at your usual time and mysteriously, Dave would appear within a few minutes. He would insist on buying your coffee and on nice days, he would walk you to work. If it was rainy or windy, he would drive you.

By Friday he finally asked for your number and by Saturday you were getting ready for your first date.

Shannon was your age but she always seemed to be so much wiser and grounded. She had a very different view on life, but she was sweet and fun and you got along the moment you met. While you were used to going out to bars on a Friday night, Shannon preferred to stay in and read about horoscopes, take stock of her essential oils, do some light yoga, or scour eBay for rare crystals. You thought she was a hippie, she preferred spiritually inclined.

Regardless of your differences, she still was a wonderful person and was always there for you. Whether you were going through a bad breakup or upset about something your mom said, she would always be there to listen, rub your back, and kindly suggest a way to unblock your chakra.

You had a handful of other friends who would gladly come over and drink wine while you tried on outfits and help with your makeup, but that wasn't what you needed. You had something else entirely on your mind and you couldn't think of anyone else who might be able to help besides Shannon.

"I've been having dreams."

Shannon raised an eyebrow so far up, it got lost under her curly blonde bangs and thick rimmed glasses.

"What sort of dreams?"

You sighed and sat down on the edge of your bed, your dress partially zipped. "About Dave. And me. And it's just... strange."

Shannon shifted a bit on your mattress, her clunky jade bracelets knocking together in the process. "Go on."

"It feels like a reoccurring dream, but it's not exactly the same. The feeling is the same, though."

"I see," she said thoughtfully. "And what are you doing in these dreams?"

Your face warmed up and you stared at the floor when you said, "Well, we're having sex. But it's not just sex. It's different. Like," you waved your hands in the air as you struggled to come up with an explanation. "I know this will sound crazy, but it feels like in my dreams, we have more of a connection. Like, a purpose or something? And in my dreams it feels so much more intense compared to other guys I've slept with."

"How so?"

You had to give her credit. Shannon was too kind to ever tease you.

"Intense like... if we don't fuck, I'll go certifiably insane."

"Oh," she said, nodding her head, completely unphased. "Interesting. It kind of sounds like something I've read about once before. Have you ever heard of -"

Your doorbell buzzed and you leapt off the bed. "Oh, my god! Zip me up! He's here!"

When you flung your front door open, Dave spun around with a smile, one which widened when his eyes drifted appreciatively up and down your frame.

"Hey," you said breathlessly, feeling that magnetic pull low in your belly again just at the mere sight of him.

"You look beautiful," he told you, and just as he was about to lean in and kiss your cheek, he spotted Shannon emerge from your bedroom behind you with a little wave.

"Oh, this is my friend, she was helping me get ready," you said, turning to introduce them while you grabbed a leather jacket and your purse.

"Have a great time, I'll lock up when I leave."

You both thanked her before heading outside towards Dave's car. His arm naturally found its place protectively around your waist and you practically glowed from his touch.

Dave picked a restaurant that you'd never heard of and when you walked inside, you quickly figured out why. It was easily the fanciest place you had ever eaten and if it wasn't for his reassuring touch or warm smile, you would have felt out of place. But once you sat down, the rest of the room melted away and it was just the two of you in your own little world. The entire time you both were leaning across the table, bodies pulling closer and closer on their own accord as you absorbed every little detail about each other. You learned Dave used to be in the military and now works as an operative in the CIA, something that should have intimidated you but it just made him more attractive. He was a protector, he knew how to handle himself and he was smart, qualities which turned you on and had you yearning for more.

When he admitted to being recently divorced, the hairs on your arm stood up and jealousy bloomed hot in your chest. The sudden idea of him with another partner unlocked something inside you that screamed mine, mine, mine.

By all accounts, your first date was perfect. There was never any lack of topics for conversation, you always felt perfectly at ease and safe, and it went by way too fast even though you were the last table to leave the restaurant.

But when he dropped you off and walked you to your door, something changed from that point forward. He kissed you, gently and sweetly at first, but when your lips brushed together for the very first time it set something on fire inside you that you couldn't ignore. You had no idea how it happened, but the next thing you knew he was pinning you up against your door, your wrists captured in each of his massive hands and held next to your head while his tongue licked aggressively into your mouth.

Then you released a little whimper, a little cry against his mouth and it nearly brought him to his knees. The needy sound reverberated through his entire being and had him forgetting who he was, where he was, what planet he was on because that little sound had his body and mind responding in a way he couldn't explain.

And it frightened him.

He pulled away and put some distance between you, palm dragging over his wet mouth, eyes hungrily devouring your wrecked state. Still leaning against the door, you panted heavily and stared at him through heavy lidded eyes.

He scratched at something invisible behind his ear and took a deep, steadying breath.

"I should go."

You frowned, still trying to catch your breath. "W-what? Was it something -"

Dave quickly shook his head and stepped further away.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow," he promised, then turned on his heel, practically running back to his car while you stood there, completely dumbfounded.

As it turned out, you did not hear from him the following day. Nor did you see him at your coffee spot the entire fucking week. By Tuesday, after sending a few pathetic texts that went unanswered, you forced yourself to accept reality.

Dave ghosted you and you would never see him again.

It was just one date. You only knew him for a week but it felt like so much more and you couldn't help but be torn up about it.

On Tuesday night, you called Shannon to tell her. You did your best not to cry but she could hear it in your voice.

"It felt like such a strong connection, you know?" you said sadly, plucking at a loose thread on your sweater.

"Well, what do you think happened?"

You shrugged and tossed yourself backwards onto your bed. "I don't know. The date went great, he dropped me off at the front door, we were kissing and things were getting heated and then all of the sudden, just -" you snapped your fingers. "He had to leave. Said he would talk to me the next day and I never heard from him again."

You heard her hum on the other end and clink a spoon in her mug. "Suppose my silly theory was wrong, then."

"What theory?"

"The dreams you were having and the feelings you were describing sounded like something I've read in one of my books, I wondered if it were real."

One of her books. You rolled your eyes, knowing she had a very strange collection of reference material spanning from meditation and Hinduism to books about Karma and the Kama Sutra.

Even so, you humored her and let her continue.

"Do you believe in past lives?" she asked. You hid your scoff behind your hand and cleared your throat.

"Uh, can't say that I do."

"That's okay, I know it's a bit out there, but it sounds very much like you might have a connection with this man that supersedes this earthly plane. And what I mean is, you may be destined to be together."

"Like, soulmates?" you asked dubiously.

"Mmm, not exactly. What I'm thinking is a little more physical. I have a book that talks about reincarnation and the ability to imprint on another person to the degree where the link follows you throughout all your lives. If it's at all possible, you will always find each other. Although it's usually pretty rare..."

"What do you mean, if it's possible?"

Shannon flipped through some pages of a book, humming under her breath before she said, "Well, if one of you comes back as a bear and the other a human, odds are it won't be a happy reunion."

You couldn't help it, you had to laugh. Shannon wasn't offended. She knew you didn't mean any disrespect and her beliefs were a little more difficult for others to understand.

"Okay, thank you. I needed a reality check," you said with a smile. "I hear what you're saying: we just met and there's zero reason for me to be acting this way."

"No, that's not at all what I mean," Shannon replied. "I haven't actually known anyone personally who went through something like this, but I've read about this phenomenon online."

"Alright, this is getting a little too weird, even for me," you said, sitting up in bed.

"Just Google it!" Shannon told you before you finished your call. "Read what others have said and see if you can relate."

You promised her you would give it a try the next day but you never got around to it. Instead, you went back to moping and staring at your ignored texts to Dave for the rest of the week.

By the time Friday came, you were ready to blow off some steam, refusing to spend another night wasting away over some man who just happened to be an insanely good kisser and whose scent you couldn't erase from your memory.

You agreed to go out with a small group of girls after work. The alcohol buzzing in your veins and the loud music in the bar helped you forget about Dave, but when other men approached you to dance, you just couldn't do it. You politely turned them down and stayed with your co-workers, Dave's rejection still leaving its mark on you. You listened to them complain about a team lead they couldn't stand who got a promotion she didn't deserve and then, as they began to drink a little more, discussed the finer qualities of the cute guy in the mail room.

In retrospect, leaving by yourself when you became too tired wasn't the best choice. You had a longer walk back to your bus stop than usual and it was eerily quiet out, but you wrapped your arms around yourself and kept your head down. And it almost worked, too, until you heard a familiar voice behind you.

"Need a ride, pretty girl?"

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up and you kept pushing forward after tossing a no, thanks over your shoulder.

"Don't need to be rude," the voice replied, now much closer. You glanced around nervously and didn't see another soul on the street. Only parked cars.

You moved faster but it wasn't good enough. A hand clasped onto your shoulder, grip firm and frightening, and fear shot through you. You broke out into a cold sweat when he pushed you against a building, caging you in and leering down at you, his sour breath poisoned by alcohol. You recognized him as someone from the bar but before you had a chance to process anything else, two massive hands dug into his shoulders and yanked him away in the blink of an eye.

You shirked away when you heard a fist meeting soft tissue, then the clattering of teeth and a pained groan. Your savior's voice growled threateningly, warning the man to get the fuck out of here before I put you in the goddamn hospital, then you heard the squeaking of shoes against concrete and hurried, retreating footsteps down the street.

You were scared. He could sense it. He could fucking smell it. It made his skin crawl and his stomach turn.

Dave's voice was so deep and gravelly, you didn't even recognize him. Not until he crouched in front of you on the street, his dark eyes filled with worry as they scanned your face for any injury did you realize it was even him. Tears welled up in your eyes and he cupped your face. He looked like he was in extreme pain as he watched your tears begin to fall. He then stood, scooping you up so he could carry you to a nearby parked car.

"I'm going to take you home," he said when he placed you gently in the front seat. You had about fifteen seconds to gather your thoughts while he hurried around to the other side of his car.

"Why are you here, Dave?" you asked when he turned his key in the ignition. He paused momentarily before putting his seatbelt on and merging onto the empty street.

"Right place, right time," he muttered. He was gripping the steering wheel so tight, his knuckles turned white. You watched him closely from the passenger seat, not believing him for one second but for some inexplicable reason, it didn't frighten you. In fact, you liked it. The idea of Dave being nearby, possibly watching you, made you feel safe and protected, although you hardly knew him.

You took a deep breath, about to muster up the courage to ask him why he had ignored you all week when you were suddenly overwhelmed with his scent. You couldn't describe it but it was a smell uniquely tied to him. You made a little noise in the back of your throat and squirmed in your seat, desperately trying to stay focused and present, but your body had other plans.

Dave's eyes shifted to you, his nostrils flaring at the way your legs rubbed together and your breath picked up and then he smelled it: the first scent of your arousal in the air. That was all it took for him to forget who he was and succumb to his baser instincts.

His cock throbbed painfully hard in his jeans and his molars were practically ground to dust by the time he arrived at your apartment. You fumbled with the seatbelt, desperate to disappear inside and pretend this embarrassing interaction never happened, but you weren't fast enough. Dave had gotten out of the car so quickly that he was already yanking your door open and violently pulling the seatbelt away from your waist. You blinked up at him as if you were trying to clear your vision and jumped out of the car.

Something felt wrong.

You had an ache between your legs that was growing impossible to ignore and your brain was a hazy, swirly mess being so close to his scent. Did someone spike your drink at the bar?

"Thanks," you whispered, chest rising and falling faster as you tried to drag in more air. Your skin was far too sensitive. All you could think about was getting inside before you tore your clothes off in the middle of the parking lot. "I'll, um, see you around, I guess."

He nodded, his neck and cheeks tinted pink as he stared down at you hungrily. "Wait," he croaked when you made a move to leave, eyes burning red hot into you. "Can we - can I explain - fuck," he winced, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to block your scent from his nostrils so he could take a second to fucking think. He felt like he was going insane and he had no idea why.

"You wanna come inside and explain why you haven't talked to me in a week?" you asked bitterly, your arousal temporarily forgotten. "Why you've been ignoring me? Why you made me feel terrible? I was out tonight trying to forget you, Dave. I was hoping it would be the first night all week I didn't cry, but it's too late for that."

He swallowed thickly, eyes all wide and filled with despair as he gazed down at you. "I made you cry?" he asked softly. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him that he failed, that he did the one fucking thing he shouldn't have done.

You huffed and crossed your arms before looking away. "You hurt my feelings, Dave," you mumbled.

His heart lurched in his chest and he took a step forward to gently cup your face. Despite your anger, you gazed up at him with glassy eyes and almost immediately melted into his touch.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I'm so, so sorry. Will you let me explain?"

Reluctantly, you nodded and allowed him to trail after you to your front door.

You flicked the lights on in your kitchen and living room before turning around. Dave stood there looking too big in your average sized apartment, gaze drifting over your walls, your pictures, your plants, your life.

With a little distance, he could feel the clouds clearing and his senses returning, so he took a steadying breath before speaking.

"About last week," he began. You were in the middle of closing your curtains when you turned around to listen. "I didn't want to scare you, but something happened to me that night." You frowned, pulling the curtains closed the rest of the way and took a few steps towards him. Almost instantly he could smell you again, the wetness between your legs practically calling to him, and he quickly held up both hands so you would stop.

"You gotta stay over there," he warned. Hurt flickered over your face but you obeyed and stepped back until you were by the window again. After a moment, the air cleared enough so he could focus and he slowly dropped his hands back to his sides. He was so hard, it almost made him sick.

"I'm sorry," he said once again. "That's part of what I'm talking about. When you're close to me," he pursed his lips and dropped his chin to his chest while you patiently waited for him to continue. "When you're close to me, I can't fucking think straight. And I know it sounds dramatic," he chuckled, looking back up at you across the room. "I know it sounds like I'm making it up but I promise you, I'm not."

"I think I know what you mean," you said softly after a quiet moment. His eyebrows raised a bit, curious for you to elaborate. "It's like... your scent."

"Yes!" Dave exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "I don't understand it but you're giving off a scent and it's doing something to me. Something that frightens me."

You swallowed nervously and took a small step forward.

"Would you... hurt me?"

Dave's eyes went wide and he vigorously shook his head.

"No," he whispered, "never."

You took another step forward and his eyes flickered down to your feet.

"Then what would you do to me?"

His eyes slid shut and he crossed his arms over his chest. What wouldn't he do to you? He would bury his face between your legs until you screamed his name. He would stuff you full of his cock over and over, as many times as you could take it. He wanted to leave love bites all over your body so anyone looking at you would know you're his.

But that would be absurd. You just met and only had one date.

Without even needing to open his eyes, he knew you were closer. The thick smell of your slick filled the air, swirling around him, driving him to the brink of insanity until he was convinced the only cure would be to fuck you senseless.

"I feel it, too, Dave," you whispered, your hands coming up to pull lightly on his arms, unknotting them from their protective place over his chest. You nipped hesitantly at his neck, your lips puckering over his tanned skin, and he felt his resolve crumble.

"Fuck, what is this?" he breathed, his body pulling him forward. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. His mouth pressed into your hair, deeply breathing in your scent, then he dragged his mouth lower. His tongue flicked out to taste your skin, the burst of flavor - you - making his head swim the closer he got to the back of your neck. Before he reached the scar you kept hidden by your hair, he pulled back, gasping for air.

"Come with me," you said with heavy lidded eyes and wet, parted lips. He nodded and followed you, logic and reason fading with each step. He had never felt like this before. It felt like he was being driven by pure instinct, like some kind of animal.

Dave swallowed when you pulled your shirt over your head as you walked, your bare back teasing him with what he could not yet see. Then you worked on your pants, unbuttoning and shimmying out of them as you approached your bed. His cock strained against the metal zipper of his jeans, begging to be touched, begging to be buried deep inside your soaked cunt. And it was soaked. He could see your dampness darkening the fabric of your underwear when you bent forward.

Finally, you turned to face him wearing nothing but your panties and a nervous smile. A low groan escaped from the back of his throat while his gaze drifted slowly down your body, taking in every soft curve and slope while he began to unbutton his shirt.

"You're perfect," he said lowly, shrugging off his shirt before his hands found his belt. "I want you so fucking bad, sweetheart, it hurts. I want to make you mine, make you scream my name til it's the only word you ever remember. I want to fill you up so you're feeling me for days. Want to give you everything you could ever need. Then I want to do it all over again."

Your knees felt weak as you felt another wave of arousal spread through your stomach and between your legs. Shakily, you crawled onto the bed as Dave approached like a predator from the doorway, shedding his clothes and pinning you with an intense stare that, if it were anyone else, would make you nervous.

"You want all that?" he asked you. You were nodding but you couldn't tear your eyes away from the bulge straining in his boxers now that he stepped out of his pants. "Say it," he commanded, and something about his tone made your eyes snap up to his and your spine immediately straighten.

"Yes. I want it. I want you," you replied, then reached your arms out for him to join you. A pleased look passed across his face at your invitation as he kneeled on the bed with you, towering over you with his broad frame, making you feel so small.

He leaned forward with his hands brushing lightly over your shoulders and his lips parted as he admired you openly. Then he murmured, "Lay down and spread your legs," and you felt your stomach flip as you did what you were told.

Dave palmed himself through his boxers when his eyes locked onto the wet spot spreading in your underwear. His long fingers hooked around the fabric and pulled them down, slowly exposing yourself to him. You watched, squirming impatiently, as his eyes turned from brown to almost black when he took a deep breath and spread your legs wide into the bedding.

"I need you," you whimpered. Your skin felt like it was on fire and you were so aroused it almost fucking hurt but you were certain Dave would be able to fix it. You didn't know why or how, but you just knew.

"I know, baby," he said, shifting down so he laid between your legs, his angular nose nudging against your folds and his hot breath fanning over your leaking cunt. You shivered and whined but his big hands held you in place.

"I'm gonna take good care of you, don't worry," was the last thing he said before he placed a sweet kiss on your mound. Then he kissed you again except that time, his tongue flicked out, catching your clit, and the noise that came from your mouth was borderline embarrassing.

"God, you're so wet," he whispered in awe inbetween plunging his tongue in and out of your opening, reveling in the taste of your pussy. The way your scent had engulfed him made him feel insane and the only thing he wanted to do was pull more sweet noises from your lips.

There was no explaining that night. At least, not rationally. The two of you fell into something neither of you experienced before but somehow was all too familiar. You found yourself being far more submissive than you ever were with anybody else, like your body had taken over and knew just what to do. Anything Dave asked of you, you did it, trusting him implicitly.

It was a combination of your sobs and whimpers that drove him forward like an animal, unable to stop eating at your cunt until you came twice from his tongue. You finally had to tug on his hair to pull him away, your skin coated in a thin layer of sweat and chest heaving beneath him.

"Could smell you all fucking night," he admitted hoarsely, wiping his palm over his slick covered mouth. "Drove me crazy, couldn't stop thinking about it. Christ, I- I've never needed someone this badly, baby," he told you as he pushed his boxers off and gripped the base of his cock in his fist. "'M sorry, can't explain it-"

"I know," you croaked before hauling yourself up from the mattress. You moved towards him on your knees, legs still wobbly but you managed to hold yourself up. "I feel it, too. I don't want to leave this bed for a week," you murmured before pressing your lips against his and groaning at the taste of you on his mouth. Again, all you could think was mine, mine, mine. You were consumed by the thought, overwhelmed by the idea of Dave smelling like you so everybody would know he was yours.

Your tongue dove into his mouth greedily, a sentiment he easily returned. You dragged your fingers through his hair, down his neck, over his broad shoulders and down his soft stomach until you found his cock standing at attention between you.

"I- shit," Dave moaned when your lips nipped and sucked down his jaw until you found a tender spot behind his ear you seemed to like while your fist slowly pumped him up and down. "I don't have a condom, I didn't think... do you have any?"

You did, but you paused and thought about it. Even though you were on birth control, you still always used a condom, just to be extra safe. But the idea of having a barrier between you and Dave just felt wrong. You wanted to feel him bare, you needed it. So, you decided on a non-answer.

"I'm on birth control," you whispered, and Dave seemed just as relieved as you at the prospect of taking you raw. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes, enjoying the way you continued to suck and bite at the spot behind his ear while stroking his cock. He wanted to tell you there was a scar there, one he couldn't remember getting, but he was struggling to form a coherent thought.

When your teeth grazed his skin too harshly, he growled and bared his teeth like a goddamn animal, but not because it hurt. Because it felt good.

"Think you can take it, baby?" he rasped, fingers pressing into the softness of your hips.

"Mhmm," you hummed, finally tearing yourself away from his neck, proudly leaving a little red mark of your own before letting go of his cock and twisting around to fall onto all fours.

Dave moaned at the sight of you presenting yourself to him on a silver fucking platter before crawling forward.

He took hold of himself, all heavy and leaking, so he could notch at your entrance. He hummed a little, enjoying the way your warmth spread over his engorged tip, using it to spread your slick around to make it easier to first enter you.

Impatiently, you wiggled a little and tried to spear yourself on him, but he chuckled and grabbed your waist, making you still.

"Want it that bad?" he taunted, voice dropping low, the lust in his veins pumping hard and fast through every inch of his body.

"Yes," you whined, tilting your head back as if you were in pain. "Yes. Please, Dave, don't tease me."

And how could he deny you? He simply wasn't strong enough, his need for you so hot that it burned through his resolve in a matter of seconds.

His eyelids fluttered when his tip slipped past your folds, jaw dropped when he first pressed a few inches inside, face twisting and breath growing ragged when his hips finally came flush with your ass.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned, blinking away the tears that suddenly burned his eyes. Shaky hands found your hips and he braced himself, taking a few deep breaths while he waited for your walls to relax and your whimpering to quiet down.

Dave swallowed and looked down, nearly coming apart right then and there at the sight.

"God, baby, you oughta see the way you stretch for me," he breathed, still staring down where you were connected. "That feel good? Hm? Talk to me," he pleaded before drawing back an inch just to watch more of your arousal get pushed out when he slid back inside.

"Yes," you hissed, "I'm so hot, Dave, it feels like I'm on fucking fire, please fucking move."

"Are you sure?" he asked, but his hips had already begun to rock into you without his permission. You nodded and let your eyes fall closed so you could focus on the way each one of his thrusts and grunts soothed the flames roaring inside you.

"Harder," you whispered, not even sure he heard it, but then a moment later his grip around you tightened and his hips snapped faster, the sounds of his skin slapping against your ass filling the room and making you dizzy.

You heard him whispering something to himself but you couldn't make it out. You craned your neck back, bleary eyes trying to find his but every forceful thrust of his hips jolted your entire body and sent you halfway up the bed just to have his massive hands drag you back down.

"Fuck it," he murmured before grabbing you by the shoulders and yanking you up so your back was pressed to his chest. You gasped in surprise and cried out at his relentless pace, never once missing a beat. One of your hands reached around to grab the hair on the back of his head, pulling him close so his mouth was directly next to your ear.

"So - fucking - tight. Want you so - fucking - bad," he whispered through clenched teeth. Both his arms circled around your middle in order to keep you steady, sweaty skin sticking to sweaty skin. You twisted your neck, seeking out his mouth so you could swallow down those words and have them echo like the beat of a drum inside you.

Your lips crashed together, messily licking and biting at one another while he grunted and growled, hammering into you with everything he had. The tip of his cock reached a spot deep within you that forced all the air from your lungs just to be followed by a sharp gasp. It was making you lightheaded, the persistent pattern - grunt, thrust, gasp, grunt, thrust, gasp - and then his hand traveled lower.

"Oh!" you cried out, your fingers slipping through the thick hair on the back of his head and body slumping a bit but he kept a firm hold around your ribs, still pressing you against his front while his fingers rubbed fast, precise circles over your clit.

Your thighs began to shake and your hips sunk lower, unable to keep yourself from giving into the pleasure mounting low in your belly. Your muscles fucking burned from the effort to stay upright, even with his help it was becoming impossible to do.

"Dave," you whimpered, eyes squeezed shut as your head came to rest on his shoulder. It was all you could remember to say, Dave, Dave, Dave. Just like he said. And it was perfect because that was all he wanted to hear.

"You're close," he murmured, lips pressed against the shell of your ear, fingers working expertly over your clit and hips still snapping tirelessly against your ass. You just nodded, slack jawed, as you focused on your release. So close. So fucking close, you wanted to say, but no words came out.

"Give it to me," he growled, voice sounding like a command. Your eyes flew open and a moment later, you came. You bore down on him, pussy clenching around his thick shaft still slamming inside you, in and out, in and out, while you wailed his name over and over until you grew weak and your muscles threatened to give out.

Dave made a pleased sound before pushing you forward onto the bed. You fell onto your forearms with a huff, still in a rosy haze from your orgasm. One hand gripped your hip, the other your shoulder, and he used you. He fucking used you to get himself off, slamming into you as hard as he liked, chasing his release, puffing and growling above you until he finally stilled and you felt his spend slowly fill you up.

"Fuck!" Dave groaned, gaze pinned to the way he spilled out of you when he pulled out. "Fucking beautiful, baby," he whispered hoarsely, still panting for breath as he continued to watch. You whined and your hips began to drop, so he collapsed next to you and tugged you against him, spooning you with his face pressed into your shoulder and his hands soothingly stroking any part of you he could reach.

"I'll... I'll get you something in a minute," he muttered, chest still heaving as he held you close. You just shook your head and closed your eyes.

"It's okay," you whispered softly.

There was so much you wanted to say, but fear held you back. You wanted to tell him how incredible it was, how you never came that hard before in your life, how amazing you felt now that he finally gave you what you needed.

Once his breathing evened out, he began to nose gently at your back. He trailed up through your hair, pushing it aside until his tongue found the skin on the back of your neck. It felt so good, melting in his arms and sharing in a warm glow while he bit and licked at the back of your neck. It didn't even strike you as an odd thing to do, the pair of you were too deep to recognize it.

With a sigh, you lifted his left hand from your stomach and examined his long fingers, your own slowly tracing his as he continued to mindlessly suck at your neck.

"What's the story here?" you asked bravely, tapping twice on the tan line of his ring finger. "You never really said much."

He grunted into your skin and forced himself to unlatch from your neck.

"Was married," he said simply. "Didn't work out."

You hummed and laced your fingers with his while he watched from over your shoulder. His cock twitched alive against your thigh when you wiggled in his grasp.

"Why?"

He shrugged, lips dragging over your shoulder. If someone had asked him that six months ago, he would have had a much more emotional reaction. Anger mixed with pain, most likely. But you had somehow managed to dwindle it down to a light shrug.

"Don't think it was just one thing," he admitted.

You nodded solemnly, thumb brushing lightly over his knuckles.

"Does it still hurt to talk about?" you asked him. You wished you knew more but you feared you might burst the perfect little bubble you had found yourselves in.

Dave smiled and, with his free hand, lifted your leg so your ankle rested on the outside of his knee.

"Not anymore," he said right before sinking back inside you.

It was the dreams that finally made you both snap out of the lust filled stupor you were lost in.

Dave had spent the night and entire next day with you, only giving yourselves enough time to eat and rest in between the countless times you found yourself impaled on his cock. It was sometime in the mid afternoon when you had fallen asleep on his chest that you awoke with a start, unable to shaky an eerie feeling.

"Dave?"

His eyes snapped open and found yours, looking slightly rattled, himself.

You breathed a sigh of relief and nuzzled into his bare chest. "I had such a weird dream."

"Me, too," he said, voice thick with sleep. He swiped a palm over his face before stretching both arms above his head. "What was yours about?"

You went on to tell him about the very vivid dream you had about him, although the man in your dreams didn't look like Dave nor did he have the same name, you just somehow knew it was him. With your face heating up, you glazed over the part where you fucked like animals in heat for a week straight and all together left out the end where you had a full blown family together, figuring it would be a bit too much and it would most definitely scare him off. But much to your surprise, he detailed a dream of his own that was so similar, it gave you goosebumps.

"Maybe we need to get out of this apartment for five fucking minutes," you joked, yet still couldn't shake the lingering feeling of familiarity.

After a few moments where you both remained quiet and lost in thought, Dave spoke again.

"There was something else."

You tilted your chin up to meet his gaze.

"I think we had... a family."

Dave closed his eyes as if he too felt like saying it would be too much too fast, but you shot up excitedly in bed.

"We had kids in my dream, too," you confessed, and the both of you stared at one another in shock. "And this isn't the first time, either," you added. Embarrassment was the furthest thing from your mind now as the words came tumbling from your lips. "I had them before we even had our first date."

Dave's eyes went wide and he sat up, as well.

"Shit," he muttered, "me, too. Thought I was crazy."

"Maybe we are," you huffed, still in complete disbelief. Then you remembered what Shannon had said when you poured your heart out to her and your brow furrowed before digging in the sheets for your phone.

"What is it?" he asked as he watched you.

"My friend, the one you met the night we had our date," you said as you busily focused on your phone. "She knows a little about this stuff. She's a little strange but -"

"Let's go talk to her," he said before you even had to ask. You sent your text and looked around your room.

Could you really have known one another in a past life?

You weren't sure how you got there, but in just a few short days you found yourselves standing outside the old Victorian house of Talia Carter, a friend of Shannon's whom she recommended the minute she read your text about your shared dreams.

Talia, or 'Duchess' as she preferred to be called, claimed to be clairvoyant and promised she would be able to do readings on you both to find out if your hunch was right or if you were both just certifiably insane.

Despite all the evidence, you still had your doubts as you climbed the old wooden steps of her porch. Talia swung the door open, her bright red lipstick laid on thick and stretched into a wide smile framed by her very long, straight dark hair. But her smile faded almost instantly once she saw you and she gripped the doorframe for support, alarming you both. She quickly shook her head and refocused her gaze on you both before apologizing and ushering you inside.

You hesitated for a moment and glanced up at Dave.

"My friend Shannon called, I'm -"

"I know, sweetheart," she said as if it were clear as day. "I know exactly who you are."

Dave's hand fell to your lower back and he peered inside her house before determining she wasn't some kind of obvious psycho before nodding to you and taking your hand. Talia bit back a smile and she stepped aside, holding the door open wide for you both.

"If you would like to follow me, I have a study where I do my readings just off the kitchen. Can I get you anything to drink?" she asked over her shoulder, leading you past a dark cherry wooden dining room table and matching China cabinet, as well as countless green plants stuck on every flat surface.

"No, thank you," you said, gaze roaming around the room, temporarily stunned by the very unique Elizabethan style she chose. It seemed as though she liked her wallpaper dark and oriental rugs mismatched. The woodwork appeared to be all original, or at least it was made to look that way, and it was all meticulously cared for.

"I prefer to model my home after my own past life," she said when she caught you gawking at the beautiful wainscotting and then the glittery chandelier above her desk.

The two of you sunk down into a soft velvet sofa across from her.

"You remember your past life?" Dave asked, his hand falling to your knee, body curling protectively around you when he crossed a leg and leaned forward. Talia noticed but she didn't say a word. Not yet.

"Yes. I believe Shannon mentioned I preferred to go by Duchess," she explained as she pulled out some tarot cards as well as a few books from the built in bookshelf behind her. "I was the Duchess of Argyll and I still very much connect with that lifestyle, so I have tried to recreate it in my home."

"Well, you've done a beautiful job," you told her honestly. She paused and gave you a sweet smile before opening one of her books and flipping through the pages.

"You are very kind, thank you," she said, "but we are not here to talk about my past life. We are here to talk about yours."

You bit your lip and leaned closer to Dave. Without even looking up, she asked, "Hundreds of years ago, the human race was suffering and on the brink of going extinct. It's believed Mother Nature took over and created ranks among human beings in order to boost the population. Have you ever heard of Alphas and Omegas?"

You both frowned and shook your heads. When she found the page she wanted, she lit up and turned it around, pushing it across the desk so you could see.

"I could do a reading on you both, but it's simply not necessary," she said. You were about to lean forward to look at the page when you froze.

"Why?"

She grinned and sat back in her chair, looking at the two of you like she couldn't believe her eyes.

"I sensed it the moment I saw you. You were mates in a prior life," she replied. She pointed to Dave's hand on your knee. "You're very protective of her, yes?"

Dave shrugged and scooted closer to the edge of the sofa. "That isn't unusual."

"No, you're right," she said, then leaned forward to rest her elbows on her desk, lacing her fingers together. "But tell me, do you have any noticeable scars? Maybe ones you have trouble remembering how they came to be?"

Your hand immediately came up to rub the back of your neck and Dave noticed. Visions of him licking and biting in that very same spot swam in your memories and you glanced up at him once again, watching as he came to the same realization.

"How did you get that?" he asked you softly. Your eyes darted wildly back and forth between his before answering.

"My mom and dad always told me different stories, I'm not - I was never really sure."

Then you recalled how fixated you were on the spot behind his ear the first time you had sex and you lunged forward, brushing his hair out of the way with a gasp.

"Where did -"

"I don't know," he said immediately, the energy in the room shifting as you both stumbled into something inexplicable. "I grew up in an orphanage. No one was ever able to tell me."

Your eyes watered for a moment at the thought of a young Dave growing up scared and all alone, but you forced yourself to put it out of your mind for now. You turned back to Talia, who was watching you both with an unreadable expression.

You told her everything. You told her about your dreams, the extraordinary pull between you, the intensity and passion when you had sex, the hopelessness you felt when you thought he rejected you. And most importantly, the calm and secure feeling whenever he was near.

She gave the book a little nudge and you took it on your lap so the two of you could read, but you were hardly absorbing any of it. The words knot, glands, scent marking, heat, imprinting floated across the page while she spoke, explaining everything she knew. And as crazy as it all sounded, neither of you could deny the signs.

You stayed for over an hour, asking question after question. She explained how your scars were most likely remnants of the scent glands that each of you pierced, which bonded you forever as mates. How the dreams that you both had were memories of your past life and the unbreakable bond you shared was what drew you together. When you mentioned the way your body felt like it was on fire, skin hot to the touch, she explained in more detail about heats and ruts and how it was your body's response to finding one another.

When you finally stood to leave, exhausted and unable to think of another question, she refused to take Dave's money. When he tried to insist, she held up her hands and shook her head firmly.

"You have no idea how rare this is for someone like me. Meeting the two of you is an experience I will never forget."

She even let you take home the book you had still open on your lap, your minds racing as you tried to keep up with the whirlwind of information thrown at you.

When she walked you to the door, the sun dipping low in the sky already, she placed a hand on each one of your shoulders and looked at you both intently.

"Promise me you will not squander this gift," she said. "You have no idea how unusual it is for mates to find one another again. The odds are astronomical and yet here you are, reunited by a twist of fate."

You had no idea what to say. You looked up at Dave sheepishly and he smiled warmly at you before saying, "We promise."

Once back in his car, silence surrounding you even though your minds were buzzing with activity, he reached for your hand.

"Do you believe her?" he asked. You bit the inside of your cheek and stared straight ahead down her long driveway before slowly nodding and turning to face him.

"I think I do."

A big grin stretched across his face and he brought the back of your hand up to his lips. "I think I do, too."

You giggled and ran your fingers through your hair, a rush of adrenaline burning through your veins.

"Now what?" you asked him, letting him drop your hand so he could shift his car into drive.

But before he pressed on the gas, he gave you one final look and said, "I don't know, but whatever it is, we'll do it together."

[the-one-and-only-elita]

One thing that I absolutely love about TFOne's writing is that it manages to avoid a lot of the heavier criticism I've seen regarding MegOp's hero/villain dynamic over the years (trust me, the mid-2010s TF discourse was crazy)

*Spoilers Below*

First of all, the narrative benefits so much from the main 4 cast members all being a part of the same exploited mining class. So many takes on MegOp have Orion being of a higher status (an archivist, a cop, etc) while Megatron is much lower down on the social latter (a miner, a gladiator, often in the context of being a slave).

I've seen many people be put off by this, because it feels as if Megs is being villianized for being rightfully angry at the system that deeply harmed and exploited him, while Orion/Optimus is praised for taking a more pacifistic stance despite him not suffering as much from or in some ways even benefiting from the system he claims to oppose. I don't find their dynamic to be as simple as that, and I do find these takes to be a bit reductive, but I do very much see where they are coming from.

I am definitely one of those people who's very frustrated with the way pacifism is hailed as the one true path of morality, and the inherent implication that taking any sort of revenge on the people who abused/exploited you makes you just as bad as them. Also, Marvel's particular brand of demonizing any form of radical political action, despite the system clearly being broken and corrupt, but being completely unwilling to offer any other alternatives to meaningfully change things for the better.

When looking at what I described above its pretty easy to see how a lot of versions of MegOp's hero/villain dynamic unfortunately fits into that trope. Bringing it back to TFOne, you can see how Op and Meg coming from the same political/social status subverts this. The existence of Elita and Bee only further illustrates that out of the 4 people of the mining class who were all deceived, exploited, and literally mutilated in the same way it is only D-16 that completely loses himself to his rage, even to the point where he loses compassion for his own companions and disregarding the safety of the other miners (when he decides to "tears everything down" and Elita exclaims he's going to "kill everyone").

What I think I love most about the characterization in TFOne is that Orion is the radical one. Not only that, but he is praised by Elita and by extension the narrative for it. He is constantly challenging authority, and is the first to have the suspicion that their society is structured in an unjust way.

Meanwhile D-16, to be frank, is kind of a bootlicker. He fully believed in the system and that Sentinal Prime, as someone with power, had the right to decided "what was best" for those who are weaker/lesser (I wish I had the specific quote from D-16 to support this, but the movie's still in theaters). It illustrate that D-16 already held certain fascistic ideals, and that he and Orion already have fundamentally opposing moral/political values, it simply hasn't been of any consequence yet. It shows that their eventual falling out was inevitable, even if they had decided to rebuild Cybertron together.

It should also be noted that D-16's feelings of anger and betrayal do not necessarily have anything to do with the unjust system itself, but that said unjust system was predicated on a lie. Hence his fixation on deception in the post-credits scene and him naming his faction the Decepticons. Meanwhile, when Orion learns the truth he's just sort of like "yeah, I always kinda knew something was up" because again, he understood on some level that their system was predicated on injustice.

Even D-16's obsession with Megatronus Prime, while initially an endearing aspect of his character, is also an indicator of the questionably large amount of value he puts on one's strength. It foreshadows the "might makes right" ideology that the decepticons follow, and is a key part of their ideological characterization across continuities.

Instead of the narrative we often see in Transformers media were Optimus is idolized by the narrative for being more moderate and Megatron is villiainized for being radical (or so people often claim), it is instead Optimus who is rewarded and praised by the narrative for being radical, and Megatron who is villainized and punished by the narrative for holding potentially fascistic values.

I do agree with some criticism I've seen that the whole thing with killing Sentinel and D-16's final turn into villainy felt a bit rushed and more than a little cliche, but I also understand it both had a limited runtime and that it is ultimately a family film meant to be accessible to children. More importantly though, I think the movie set the groundwork early on that, no matter how this final act played out, D-16 was always going to turn to darkness, and Orion would not have been able to stop him.

Its perfectly tragic, the way all MegOp should be, while also feeling really well thought out from a thematic standpoint. I love it.

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

Some Bunny Loves You!

Pairing: Legend x Reader

Warning(s): Completely shameless smut. You're welcome.

Notes: Written for the amazing @h4wari, I SEE YOU BESTIE!!

Masterlist

If there was one thing you loved about traveling with a bunch of heroes on a quest to save Hyrule, it was that you were never alone. Having lived quietly for most of your life, their rambunctious presence was nothing short of a godsend, even if it meant you had to walk over ten miles daily and occasionally suffer at the hands of Hyrule's "delicious" cooking.

The forest was unusually alive–the chirping birds and rustling leaves creating a symphony that weaved through the trees with unusual grace–as you trudged down the worn path, heading for the river Sky had offhandedly mentioned over last night's salmon risotto. It had been a bit since you'd treated yourself to a proper bath, and you were determined to make the most of the rare time off.

You followed the path as it veered left, adjusting your heavy pack over your shoulders, already imagine how good the water would feel–once you got over the chill, of course. A glance over your shoulder confirmed that you were indeed alone, not that you expected anyone to follow you when you announced your intention to bathe. Legend had even walked in the opposite direction of the river in a supposed quest to gather berries for Wild's next cooking creation, which was honestly amazing of him.

Rustle.

You stilled as a quiet rustling noise came from a large shrub on the outskirts of the path, instinctively reaching for the dagger Legend had gifted you a few months ago. "Who's there?" you called out, giving whatever was out there a chance to come out before shit got nasty. "If you don't come out, I'm going to–"

Rustle.

You advanced on the bush, the gleaming blade clenched tightly in your fist... until the bush shook thickly and a pink blur shot from the bottom of it. You yelped, gingerly sidestepping the blur as it shot straight for your feet, revealing a... was that a rabbit?

You immediately dropped to a squat, sheathing your dagger as you studied the creature. It was on the larger size, fur pinker than the horizon at dawn, wearing what appeared to be a little red vest.

"Oh my Hylia," you breathed, unable to comprehend the cuteness before you. You took a deep breath, plopped down on the ground, and squealed: "You are so cute!!"

The rabbit's ears twitched adorably as it turned to face you fully. You reached a hand out, moving torturously slow until your fingers brushed the sinfully soft fur at the top of its head. It was a full-on battle to keep your squee!!! of joy to a reasonable level for the sake of not scaring away the creature, but you somehow managed, lip trembling from the sheer amount of effort you were employing to contain yourself. "Where did you come from, handsome?" you cooed, because that vest was nothing short of dapper, fingers trailing to rub tenderly at the rabbit's soft ears. "It's a good thing I found you, Hylia forbid you run into Wolfie."

The rabbit hopped closer when you added the very tips of your nails to the scratching process, and your heart damn near melted at the sight. "I could just hug you right now," you scratched harder, earning yourself a small thump from one of the rabbit's hind legs. Your hand swept down to caress the bunny's back, and it was then that you noticed the brownish tone of the fur around his rump and legs.

"You're all dirty," you mumbled slowly, running your finger through the slightly clumped fur. It was a shame, really, because you couldn't recall ever seeing such an astounding creature.

Wait...

"That's it!" You cried, hands cupping under the rabbit's chest and butt before you hoisted it up against your chest. The creature squirmed, legs kicking gently against your ribcage, and you rubbed its back softly. "It's okay, sweetie, we're just going to take a bath together and get all clean, alright?"

The bunny wiggled more, but you held it steady, continuing down the path to the river.

Legend knew he was in deep shit.

He hadn't even meant to follow you, having stayed true to his goal of gathering berries for Wild... until he caught sight of your swaying form walking along the trees, and something deep inside his chest demanded he follow you. The woods could be dangerous, so it couldn't hurt to have an extra layer of protection, especially when you were in such a... vulnerable position, he convinced himself, allowing the transformation into a rabbit to wash over him like water.

With swift hops, he followed you through the undergrowth, carefully avoiding anything that would alert you of his presence. You didn't know about his ability, but the others did, and he'd rather not have to explain anything to anyone. Legend wasn't embarrassed to admit that his gaze lingered on the subtle curve of your ass through those leggings of yours for far longer than appropriate, mostly because he knew no one was around to hear it.

Rustle.

Legend cringed as his hind leg brushed the shrub he was hiding under, and full-blown terror engulfed him when your head snapped in the direction, hand already reaching for the dagger he gifted you a while back under the guise of protecting you. In truth, he really liked seeing you in the fruits of his labor, but since nothing between you was even remotely past friendly, he had to be sneakier than piling protection rings on your fingers like he wanted.

The ground crunched beneath your boots as you took a cautious step further, expression grin. Legend tried to scurry deeper into the thick leaves, praying that you hadn't seen him, and brushed the shrub again in his haste, sending a resonating rustle through his temporary residence.

"Who's there?" your voice, typically filled with mirth, called dangerously, and he knew he had to act fast. There was no way he could transform like this--then he would really be done for. "If you don't come out, I'm going to–"

As the bush rustled one final time, Legend made his choice. His hind legs, tucked under him like two loaded springs, pushed him forward faster than the wind. Your yelp resonated in his ears and you jumped to the side to avoid the undoubtedly pink blur shooting out from the shrub. He landed on the ground a few feet from your form, turning his head just in time to catch the moment your expression changed from shocked to disbelieving to absolutely awestruck.

"Oh my Hylia," you said, and he wanted nothing more than shoot away, but that was far too incriminating, especially since he was positive you would tell the others about your encounter with a fucking pink rabbit. "You are so cute!"

Cute...? You thought he was cute? Legend had to remind himself that you thought you were speaking to just an animal, because the notion that you were speaking those words to him was far too poignant to consider if he wanted to remain sane. Legend had always liked you, perhaps a bit more than he should have, which is why he remained still when your hand reached out slowly, obviously not wanting to scare him, and allowed the tips of your fingers to graze his head.

You cooed some more, and, this time, he was embarrassed to admit the very noticeable swell of heat in his chest. "Where did you come from, handsome?" Legend just knew you were looking at the vest, unable to find a rebuttal to that particular statement; it was pretty neat, he had to admit. "It's a good thing I found you, Hylia forbid you run into Wolfie."

Right. Twilight. Legend cringed at the mention of the hero who had gotten him into this mess in the first place, but his annoyance was quickly rectified when your fingers stroked down the length of his ears, sending tremors of... well, pleasure, sliding down his spine. Hylia, was he even supposed to be feeling this good? "I could just hug you right now," you stated, hand sweeping down to caress his back, and Legend was the first to notice when the adorable look in your eyes morphed into concern. Every nerve in his body bristled at the mere notion of upsetting you, you, and the urge to shift right then and there nearly consumed him. "You're all dirty..."

He was? Legend shot a glance at his backside, cringing when he noticed the massive splotch of mud right above his rump. It must have happened while he was under than bramble bush earlier, having been too preoccupied with watching over you to mind his own appearance.

Legend nearly yelped when your hands cupped his body, lifting him in the air before he could curse Hylia for putting him in such a predicament, all the while you crowed "That's it!" while moving him to rest directly on your chest. Directly. "It's okay, sweetie, we're just going to take a bath together and get all clean, alright?"

You... you were going to what? Legend could hardly think as his hind legs kicked gently against your ribcage in a last-ditch effort to free himself, but your grip held true, keeping him exactly where you wanted him. His paws rested on your collarbone, dully registering the warmth flowing from your skin, but he had far more pressing matters to worry about. For one, you were heading to take a bath, and he was positive one didn't bathe with their clothes on, which meant...

"Hey, it's okay," your hand smoothed down his back as he began to struggle anew. This wasn't what he had in mind when he decided to watch over you, and the wrongness of the situation twisted his soul like a wet rag. For Hylia's sake, he wasn't a pervert!

Yet you walked on, blissfully unaware of the complete and total turmoil raging within him. He was going to hell for this, Legend was sure, if the others' teasing didn't send him there first.

After a few minutes, you made a noise of satisfaction, stepping into the clearing, where a medium-sized river resided. The water looked gentle enough, but he was more preoccupied when you abruptly dropped your pack, kneeling down to set him on the soft grass. "You stay here, okay?" Your smile was softer than silk and brighter than the master sword... and Legend found himself unable to move; as if his small body had simply stopped working, even when your hands pulled your tunic from your body, revealing miles and miles of smooth skin for his perusal. If rabbits could blush, his face would have been redder than a strawberry.

Legend's heart nearly stopped beating as your hands deftly untied the cloth binding your breasts, sighing softly when they were released. Everything felt hot, too hot, when you slid your leggings and undergarments down in one fell swoop, kicking them to the side as you advanced on him with a grin sweeter than honey.

"Hey, bunny, ready to get clean?"

Fuck, was Legend's only thought as he was hauled against your chest once more, breathing deepening when the hard nub of your nipple poked his fluffy stomach. Your hands pulled off his vest, tossing it atop your pack.

You carried him to the shallows, where you sat down cross-legged in the sun-warmed water, gently placing him in the space between your glorious thighs. Legend's paws scrambled against the smooth skin of your thighs as he attempted to climb away, but your hand grabbed the scruff of his neck with an iron grip, tenderly pulling him back down, and he realized escape was no longer an option. "You're too pretty to get dirty," you mused softly, dousing his back with a cupped handful of water, working those nimble fingers into the tangled fur. It felt good–really good, if he was being honest–but that wasn't the point.

You were naked. He was naked. In a river. Alone.

It was a recipe for trouble, and Legend was afraid of what he would do if he turned, of what he would do to your prone, willing form. His hands ached to smooth over your skin, drawing countless whimpers from those pretty lips of yours, until you couldn't take it any longer, eventually dipping down to the treasure between your legs. He imagined bringing you to climax over and over again on his fingers alone, then, while you were most sensitive, bending down to sample that delectable cunt, only giving you his cock when you begged him with pleasured tears gathering in your fluttering lashline–

No! Legend surged forward and bumped his head on your calf. You made a noise of concern, hands immediately reaching to comfort him. "Oh, baby, did I scare you?"

Fuck yeah, you scared him, not with how big or strong you were (though you were unadulteratingly both), but of the sheer amount of power you held over him. You could ask him to jump, and after sneering at you for a few minutes (he had a reputation to protect, after all), all he could ask was 'how high'? You could take anything you wanted from his collection, and he would let you–though not without some grumbles to save face–and your smile could literally bring him to his knees.

Legend was completely head-over-heels for you... and it scared him, the man who thought he would never love again after Koholint. He had fallen for your smile, your kindness, even the way you hummed to yourself when you thought no one was listening. He wanted to wake up to your sleepy kisses in the morning and fall asleep to your gentle breaths in the evening.

There was so much he wanted to do with you... and it felt as though this one moment was bringing everything he had ever planned crashing down. He had it all planned out: a sunset picnic of his and your favorite foods, nestled far away from the prying eyes of the others, so he could finally kiss you if you allowed him to.

But now... now it was ruined. He had ruined it by being so goddamn nosey, and the mere thought of you discovering his secret sent uncomfortable shivers down his spine. At least he could enjoy the feeling of your nails scraping all the grime from his fur, Legend thought glumly, resigning himself to his fate--

"Fuck!"

The word slipped from him like a knife through butter when your nail graced his lower rump, and Legend could have died right there, having completely forgotten he was still capable of speech in this form. Your motions immediately halted, and he could feel your eyes burning into his back... until you lifted him by the scruff and they burned into his enflamed face instead.

Your voice was low, with an undercurrent of complete disbelief, as you brought him closer.

"Did you just speak?"

Legend's soul withered.

You were completely and utter lost for words when a sudden expletive cut through the still air, coming directly from the pink rabbit in your very bare, very naked lap. You felt as though you had finally gone mad when you lifted the creature by its scruff, eyes practically staring holes through its poor chest.

Not that you were particularly concerned with fictional harm, because you knew you had good hearing and were positive that the muffled "fuck" you heard wasn't a figment of your imagination. The voice was too deep, too... unfamiliar to be your own, yet there was something about the tone that had you wondering if you had heard it before.

"Did you just speak?" You whispered, expression completely serious, and the rabbit seemed to shrink under your gaze... as if it understood you in a fundamentally different way. For an animal, at least.

Silence.

"I said," your hand began to tremble from holding the bunny up for so long, so you set him in your lap, never once breaking eye contact. To your surprise, the creature seemed to shrink even more, practically cowering against the inside of your crossed legs. "Did you just speak?"

Still nothing, so you let out a heavy sigh and stood up, casting a shadow over the trembling rabbit. Okay, now you felt a bit bad; you were confused--and frankly a bit terrified--but that didn't give you any right to be a jerk about it. Forcing your expression to shift into something vaguely neutral, you turned on your heel, walking towards your discarded clothes. You hadn't gotten that wet, so it would be easier to dress, but the thought of your ruined bath was a painful one. Hylia, what did you have to do around here to get five minutes of normality?

There was a splashing sound, followed by a soft grunt, and a very Hylian-shaped hand wrapped around your wrist. You shrieked, spinning around to face none other than a buck-naked Legend.

"Legend?" Was the first word to leave your slack-jawed mouth, followed by a very appropriate: "what the fuck?!" when you noticed his nakedness.

Legend's face was flushed beyond belief--fuck, he was red down to the shoulders--and he held his hands out defensively, tone weak and stuttering, all traces of his usual sarcasm gone. "I'm so sorry, I just wanted to make sure you were safe, but you started undressing and I–"

"Slow down," you commanded, surprising even yourself. "Why were you spying on me?"

"I wasn't spying–!" You glared at him and he immediately backed off. "I mean– it's dangerous in the forest and..."

"...And?" You prompted, beginning to blush yourself as you became more aware of your lack of clothes. Dear Hylia, he had seen everything!

"I wanted to protect you!" Legend blurted, his sincerity palpable, but it did nothing to quell your annoyance.

"Then why didn't you, I don't know–" you pinched your temples. "–tell me first?!"

"You would have told me no!" Legend said, expression falling when the wrongness of that particular sentence caught up to him. "Hylia, kill me now," he groaned.

You folded your arms under your chest; he had seen everything already, so why bother hiding it? "Then who would protect me?" you asked in a snarky tone of voice. "Make up your mind, Legend."

"I–... what?"

"Do you want to protect me or not?" You could hardly believe you were saying this, but the words just kept coming. You took a step forward, and he stiffened. "Or are you really just a peeping tom?"

It was almost satisfying how quickly he bristled. Almost. "I'm no such thing–"

"Then prove it," you said as you brushed past him, heading for the water. You'd be damned if you let him ruin your bath time, no matter how annoyingly hot he was.

You didn't bother waiting for a response, entering the water with a soft sigh. It was blissfully cool against your blazing skin, and the first thing you did was submerge your entire body with a loud splash, stretching your arms out to let the water wash over every part of you–

Until there was another splash and you were manhandled out of the water by your shoulders. You yelped in outrage as Legend hoisted you up, muscles flexing deliciously as he held you firmly. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" you screeched at him, annoyed beyond belief.

"Protecting you," his expression was a mix of stony determination and, well, you didn't want to even think about the other emotion you saw shining in his violet eyes. "Or does that make me a peeping tom too?"

That little shit!

"Let me go," you ordered lowly, and he did so, making sure you were balanced before releasing you fully, the water reaching just under your breasts. "Hylia, you are a piece of work."

Legend blinked, the remnants of his earlier blush still clinging to his sharp cheeks, and you refused to acknowledge how you knew they were sharp in the first place. "I am?"

You crossed your arms beneath your chest once more, pushing your boobs up, and his gaze fucking snapped down to ogle you for a split second before returning to your face.

"Did you just check me out?" you gasped, mouth hanging open in disbelief.

Legend's cheeks pinked some more, but he made no move to affirm or deny your accusation, choosing to wade back to the shallows, staring guard with his back to you, revealing a delicious ass for your perusal. You had no qualms staring after the stunt he had just pulled, and, Hylia, was it a fine ass. You doubted you had ever seen anyone with that much cake, no matter how lewd it was to acknowledge such an observation.

'You're staring," Legend's voice broke through the fog, and you snorted.

"Says the peeping tom."

Abruptly, Legend turned. Apprehension filled you as he stalked through the water, but you held firm, going so far as to meet him in the middle, the water pooling just above your belly button. "I'm trying to bathe, hero."

"And I'm trying to protect you, citizen."

...Well, he had you there. Unfortunately for him, you refused to acknowledge it after the madness he had just pulled. "With what weapons? Or are you going to use bunny kicks to fight off the fish?"

Legend's eye twitched, expression darkening, but you didn't care. "Maybe I'd be able to do my job better if you weren't so intent on distracting me," he ground out, and it had you feeling all sorts of ways.

"Oh yeah?" you reached over to poke him in the chest. "I thought you'd be over it after, I don't know, peeping on me."

"That's not true and you know it," his tone sounded exactly how you felt; irritated out of your mind. Good.

He was getting closer... and you found yourself too annoyed to care. "Fuck you, Legend; I don't need your protection more than you need a reality check."

For a moment, he was silent, simply studying you with those mesmerizing eyes of his, and you felt fully prepared for anything he could throw your way.

"You're right."

...Except for that, apparently.

"Excuse me?" You blurted.

"You heard me," Legend mirrored your pose, crossing his arms across his... incredibly toned chest. "It's already hard enough protecting you from monsters, so adding myself to mix definitely complicates things."

Your brain dam-near short-circuited. Did he just...?

"You look surprised," Legend observed with what you could only describe as the most self-satisfied smirk that surpassed anything you'd seen in your life. "What, remlit got your tongue?"

Hylia, when had he gotten so close? You could practically feel his breath fanning over your chilled skin. "You're..." you trailed off, taking a step backward in an attempt to put some space between the two of you, but Legend's smirk only grew as he followed you. "You're insane."

"Maybe," he said, and you were finally forced to acknowledge the second emotion in his eye: lust. You couldn't say you were surprised, considering the current situation, but it was still jarring to see him so... arrogantly confident instead of his usual snarkily confident. "But you don't seem to have any complaints."

Was... was this really happening? Steeling your nerves, you reached to poke his chest again, snarling "you're delusional", but he caught your wrist in a surprisingly firm grip.

"So are you," he was even closer now, practically pressed against your chest. You could feel something hard nudge the inner edge of your thigh, and it took everything in you not to reach down and find out what it was for yourself.

"The fuck are you on about?" you said, internally cringing at the shakiness of your tone.

The twinkling in his eyes was nothing short of evil. "You really don't think I'm the only one enjoying this, do you?"

Your eye twitched, and you harshly yanked your wrist free, replanting it on his chest as a sort of barrier. "What are you on about now, asshole–"

You were cut off when Legend leaned forward, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. Your head jerked back, just as his arms began to slide around your back, lightly pinning you in place. "What in Hylia's gotten into you–"

"You," Legend cut you off, staring deep into your eyes with that dumb smirk on his face. "You've gotten into me."

It was official; he had finally gone nuts. "Have you gone crazy!?"

"Only for you," he responded, glancing down with a chuckle. You became distinctly aware the heady press of your boobs against his chest and used your free hand to smack him upside the head.

"You pervert!"

He raised a perfect eyebrow and you nearly combusted. "What does that make you, then?"

Fuck this, you had enough of his bullshit. Planting your hands on his chest, you gave a hearty shove, successfully dislodging his arms from you. "That's fucking it," you snarled, moving to the shore. "I hope you're happy, you little shit."

"(Y/n)," the use of your name stopped you in your tracks. With an annoyed expression, you spun around.

"What?"

"I'm sorry."

...Huh?

In all the months you'd known Legend, never before had you heard a sincere apology fall from his lips. It was enough to make your irritation ebb like the water you stood in, especially at the regretful look on his face.

"It's... it's fine," you ran a hand down your face with a sigh. "I just... we're always traveling and there's no time to relax. Ever. I get being alert and all, but it's been so crazy and I–"

"I understand," Legend cut you off, wading into the water until he was all but two feet from you. "It's hard to remember you're not on the same level as us... you hide it well."

Was... that a compliment? From Legend?

"I..." he seemed to hesitate, averting his eyes, and you waited patiently for whatever revelation he was about to bestow upon you. "I like you. A lot."

"Oh," you were helpless to stop the small smile forming on your face. "I like you, too, Legend."

"Don't play coy with me," he growled, stalking closer until only an inch of air separated your bare skin. Violet eyes burned holes in your own. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?"

"Not a clue, so how about you tell me," you shot back.

There was a beat of silence. Legend's brows furrowed for a split second before his expression turned to nothing short of devious.

"I could show you."

You gulped at the look in his eyes; it was dangerous, so very dangerous, but you found yourself not giving a single fuck as you closed the gap between you, snarling three simple words right into his smug little face. "I dare you."

Legend was on you in a flash, arms wrapping around your body to pull you flush against his soaked form as he kissed you with such fervor that you nearly saw stars. His tongue prodded gently at your bottom lip, and you opened your mouth to allow him access with a shaky sigh. You shivered when his tongue slid into your mouth, running over every surface you had to offer, and you moaned lowly at the taste of him; warm and somewhat spicy, like cinnamon with the tiniest twinge of Goron Spice.

It was intoxicating, and you were determined to return the favor. Legend groaned when you wrapped your arms around your neck, arching your back so your chest pressed firmly against his own, all the while slipping your own tongue into his mouth, mimicking his previous actions with rare gusto.

Legend's hands slid down to your hips, though he didn't dare go further, gripping your flesh with purpose when you separated, panting for breath.

"Well?" his voice was far breathier than before, and you resisted the urge to chuckle.

"I think I need a... longer demonstration," you responded slowly, making sure to bat your eyelashes at him. Legend's cheeks flushed a deeper read than a health potion, and you knew you had him hook, line, and sinker. "Unless...?"

"Oh no," he dipped forward to plant a kiss on the side of your neck, and you shivered, thighs clenching together. "No takebacks, (Y/n)."

"G-Good," you said as he peppered the skin of your neck with more open-mouthed kisses, sucking lightly enough to be felt, but not enough to leave marks, no matter how desperately he wanted to brand you as his.

You barely held back a whimper when Legend's tongue slowly glided over your pulse point, eyes trained on your face to watch your reactions. You bit your lip when he lightly grazed the spot with his teeth, a small whine escaping your pursed lips, and he perked up, repeating the action until you relented; a broken moan filling the air between you.

Something hard prodded your thigh, and you just knew it was his cock. Your hand drifted down to wrap gently around his length, slowly stroking him from base to tip beneath the water, and Legend's motions faltered as a groan tore itself from his throat. "(Y/n)..."

You smirked, tightening your hand ever-so-slightly. "Feels good, hero?"

"Keep going," he mumbled into your neck, and you obliged, unoccupied hand tangling in his hair as you pumped his cock faster. "Please, (Y/n)–"

That was new. You hadn't expected him to beg, and you certainly hadn't expected yourself to like it, but here you were. His hands dug harder into the flesh of your hips, likely enough to bruise, but you couldn't care less; it wasn't like anyone but you and him were going to see them.

"Look at me," the words surprised even you, but he snapped his gaze to you and it all became worth it. The sigh alone was enough to make the building anticipation in your gut roll desperately, core clenching around nothing. In true you fashion, you rewarded him with a swift squeeze of your fist, drawing a loud groan from his lips. "That's it, hero."

"Nngh..." Legend's eyes fluttered closed and he buried his face in your neck, breaths turning ragged as you increased the pace. His hips began to rock against your hand, and you let it happen, holding him as best you could. It was a sight to behold--the typically sassy veteran practically reduced to putty beneath your fingers.

"Are you close?" you whispered in his ear, gently taking the outer edge in your teeth.

"Y-Yeah," he said, as if you didn't already know.

"Good," you pumped harder, and he made a noise of surprise.

"W-Wait–... you haven't–"

You cut him off with a single heavy swipe over the head of his cock. Legend shuddered, grasping at you tightly, and you nipped the earlobe in your mouth. "It's fine, you can pay me back later."

"But–"

"Just let go, hero," you tilted his head up by his hair and kissed him like you would die if you didn't, only separating to whisper: "I've got you."

Legend came with a shout, cock throbbing harshly as you stroked him through his orgasm. The water felt sticky as his cum joined the flowing stream, but you didn't mind, especially not when he all but collapsed against you, just barely catching himself as to not topple the two of you.

"Hylia, I love you," he breathed, and you giggled, planting a kiss on his temple.

"I love you too."

Two glimmering violet eyes snapped to you, wide as saucers. "You.."

"–love you, too," you finished, wrapping an arm around his waist to guide him to shore. Legend collapsed on the grassy bank as soon as he reached it, and you settled beside him with a sigh. "How do you feel?"

"Like I just had the best orgasm of my life," he snarked, and you chuckled, turning on your side to sling an arm over his heaving chest, breasts pressed firmly to his left arm. "You do know it's your turn, right?"

You faked a yawn, nuzzling your boobs against his arm. "I dunno, there's no shame in being tired, hero."

There was silence, long enough that you truly thought he had tapped out, which was fine by you. You could have your fun later, hidden in a grove of trees like you usually did when those urges arose.

"...Is that a challenge?"

Or not.

You turned your head to find him staring at you with a mix of mischief and desire, twinkling darkly in those eyes of his. You shifted slightly as your pussy throbbed with need.

"Do you want it to be?"

Legend rolled atop you, drawing a surprised gasp from your throat. His cock, already half hard, rested against your thigh, a thick bead of pre sliding down the flushed tip. "Anything you say is a challenge," he leaned down to capture your lips once more, Your mouth had long since opened, allowing him to have his way with you, until his hips jerked suddenly, forcing the head of his cock to settle at the apex of your thighs.

"Nghh...."

"What was that?" Legend asked teasingly, grabbing your chin when you refused to respond. "Tell me what you want, (Y/n)."

"I want--" the words caught in your throat when he slid his cock up to bump your clit, spreading his pre over the aching bundle of nerves. "I want you, Legend!"

"Mhm," you could see his grin without having to open your eyes, another languid thrust of his hips parting the soaked lips of your cunt. "And what about me do you want?"

You gritted your teeth and glared up at him. "I want your cock, so shut up and give it to me."

A startled laugh left Legend at your admission, clearly having expected you to put up more of a fight. You growled, pushing at his chest, but he deftly captured your wrists, pinning them above your head. "No need to get violent, I'll give you what you want."

"Oh, I'll show you violent–" you were cut off when he slammed into you with a grunt, bottoming out in one fluid motion. Your back arched off the ground as you cried out, cunt fluttering around his length. Legend, however, gave you no time to adjust, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming into you again, starting a pace that had you seeing stars after only a few world-shattering thrusts.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, ankles crossing, as you struggled to meet him thrust for thrust, but Legend was having none of it, leaning down to lave his tongue up the quivering column of your neck, rendering you helpless to do anything but take what he gave you.

"L-Legend!"

"That's it," he groaned, releasing your hands to grab your hips. Your arms immediately flew up to wrap around his neck, pulling you chest-to-chest as every slam of his hips against your own had you screaming: "F-Faster, please–!"

"Don't have to tell me twice," he huffed into your neck, and your back nearly broke from the force of his next thrust. The coil in your abdomen grew tighter and tighter as he fucked you like a man starved, releasing your hips to fondle your breast. You moaned when Legend took a bouncing nipple in his mouth, carefully grazing his teeth against the pebbled nub, and screamed when he moved his free hand between you to rub enticing circles on your clit. "Are you close?"

"YeAH," you cried out at the onslaught of pleasure, writhing like a fish caught in a net. The hand on your breasts moved to press against your hips, holding them still while he pistoned inside you. "P-Please, Legend!"

"It's okay," he murmured, leaning up to press a sweet kiss to the corners of your mouth. "Cum for me, (Y/n)."

And, as if his words weren't enough, his clever fingers pressed down on the center of your clit, sending bolts of electricity shocking through you as your orgasm hit you like a tsunami. Your body spasmed under him, head thrown back while chased his own high, pounding desperately into your cunt like he would never get the chance again, only for him to absolutely slam home as scalding cum filled you.

With a heavy sigh of exertion, Legend slumped over you, head resting between your breasts as he panted for breath, arms wrapping tightly around your spent form.

"That was amazing," you breathed, allowing yourself to relax against the soft grass. One of your hands came up to card gently through his hair. "I love you."

"Love ya too," Legend mumbled into your boobs, and you laughed as his breath fanned over the sensitive flesh.

"You know," you grinned when he squinted suspiciously up at you. "You're a pretty good protector."

"...Are you trying to get me hard again?"

You snorted. "Hell no, but you know what there is time for?"

Legend raised an eyebrow. "I'm listening."

"A bath."

You both laughed.

Hot damn, this was fun to write, hope y'all enjoyed!

[sepublic]

Hunter is NOT Luz’s brother, he’s not a Noceda, he’s not even that important to her compared to many other relationships Luz has and vice-versa. Like genuinely, go rewatch the show with this consideration in mind, cleanse the fanon for a fresh slate.

People just latched onto them as siblings because they found their Hunting Palismen dynamic funny, but also because they wanted to ward off Lunter. And they couldn’t articulate their dislike for Lunter as stemming from Luz’s longstanding dynamic with another female character being immediately replaced by fans for some white boy who just showed up, so they said they’re actually more siblings. It wasn’t an issue of biphobia it’s just people being tired of fandom thinking everything would be better if a woman was replaced by a guy. It’s the same reason Huntric also sucks because people replace a female character with some dude, it has nothing to do with bi/homophobia.

And FTR I hate Lunter, for the same reason I now hate the Luz & Hunter as Siblings take; It’s the fandom’s obsession with making Hunter more important than he actually is, to the point of replacing Luz’s actual important relationships with him. And hell even replacing Luz herself in her dynamics with her loved ones, because people portray Hunter as more Camila’s child than Luz when Darius is right there.

This fandom has a massive White Favoritism problem with Hunter, and he’s not even a female character he’s another White Boy, the most bland and milquetoast choice to raise as the fandom darling. He’s not THAT interesting and while him and Luz have their parallels and shared trauma and are still friends, what about Hunter and Gus? Or Luz and King, the latter explicitly calls Luz his sister but Hunter sure as hell didn’t! What about explicit on-screen dynamics huh???

ISTFG this fandom is overrun by Hunter content everywhere, he drowns out everyone except the literal main character and even she struggles sometimes! It’s because he’s a White Boy, that’s it. It’s not illegal to like Hunter, but you need to actually appreciate and engage with other characters accordingly instead of acting like that’s illegal. Hunter does the bare minimum and is lauded meanwhile everyone else goes above and beyond and is still overlooked for him.

Stop inserting him into everything we do not need Luz and Hunter angst we can just settle for Luz angst. She has other relationships and priorities you know and there’s so much more to this show than Hunter suffering. Sometimes you’ll even take Luz’s canon angst and give it to Hunter even! And try to make him more of a main character by inserting him into everything but he’s a side character.

So yes, your AU where Hunter is the main protagonist is racist. Especially if it doesn’t even explore Darius as his mentor, and has Eda take his place despite her barely interacting with him. And constantly praising Hunter for being a weird passionate nerd gets aggravating when Luz does the exact same thing but with greater emphasis, but gets ignored in favor of Hunter as she’s relegated to just Lumity.

And all of her additional depth and angst is just ignored for Hunter’s instead, sometimes they’ll even make up angst for him when other characters actually have it; I’ve seen popular fanart of a Luz moment where Hunter is in her place. Because fandom will sooner micro-analyze Hunter’s hands for nothing, than Luz going on a suicidal rant.

They’ll cradle Hunter’s trauma and suffering in their hands as a sacred and delicate subject, gnash at Darius for not being nice; But then sweep over Luz’s trauma and not realize how much certain things affected her, and why it’s fucked up to just ignore that in favor of bad AUs where Luz is a friend to Belos, who prompted a lot of her suicidal depression and scarred her face too.

They’ll insist Hunter should’ve been a bigger part of the finale and that Luz’s nightmare should’ve been her guilt for hurting him, as if it wasn’t already about Flapjack’s death and just her guilt towards ALL of her friends. So you know what, in addition to Hunter not even needing to kill Belos, I’m glad he wasn’t in that final battle and that the show reminded fandom who the actual main characters are (Luz, Eda, and King), which obviously pissed off a lotta people. Because it’s not like Hunter didn’t have major focus in the last two specials and S2B!!!!!!

[paulyenvol6]

Byka Atroksia (Chapter 7)

Contains: toxic dynamic between sisters

Wordcount: ~2.91k

Masterlist of this story

The sun was tickling your skin and you yawned with an open mouth. It was late, you could sense that by feeling how warm the sun was already shining down on you but it was no surprise that you had woken up so late after your activities last night. You had been exhausted after Daemon had brought you to your room and as soon as your head had hit the pillow your mind had been far away.

You turned to your other side and sighed at the comfortable feeling of your blanket cozily wrapped around your body. Just when you felt your mind drifting away again, the door was opened and you jumped surprised. Rhaenyra confidently walked in your room and stared at you with glistening eyes.

"Good morrow, little sister.", she spoke loudly and you frowned.

"Rhaenyra. What – " Your sister smiled self – determined and grabbed your blanket to pull it back. You cried out and buried your head in the pillow.

"No. Please, Rhae.", you whined but your sister didn’t have mercy with you.

"It is almost noon, sister. Is it your plan to stay in bed all day?" You shook your head and Rhaenyra could only see a nest of unkempt hair moving slightly from left to right.

"Get up now. Because WE have plans." You slowly turned your head and looked at her from the corner of your eye.

"What plans?", you mumbled and Rhaenyra smirked. "We’re going for a ride on Syrax." You frowned and bit on your lower lip.

"Are we?", you asked uncertainly and Rhaenyra laughed loudly. "Yes."

The reason you were so confused was because your sister used to not let you near her dragon. Not because she was scared Syrax would hurt you, no, it was a little more complicated.

Syrax' egg had been put in Rhaenyra’s cradle when she was a babe and in Targaryen tradition the same had happened to you. Sunwave had accompaigned you since you were born and you had loved your dragon ever since. She had been black with beautiful orange eyes and from the moment you had been allowed to, you had loved to spend your time on her back.

But as destiny wanted it, your dragon had gotten sick when you had been only 11 years old. Your family guarded and protected your dragons as if they were sacred so it rarely happened that a dragon got sick but in Sunwave’s case the dragon fever had caught her. You cried many tears for her, stayed by her side and enjoyed every moment you had with her, but after a year nothing could help your beloved dragon anymore and she died in a stormy night.

Of course you had been devasted and griefed for you dragon a long time. Your father, who had deeply felt for you had ordered Rhaenyra to stay by your side and even though she partly did so, she hated to let you near Syrax. The King had suggested to your sister to take you on her dragon some time so you were distracted and could at least be around a dragon now and then to help you with your grief but Rhaenyra hadn’t liked that. She now had something you didn’t and wasn’t going to let that go so quickly. She had a dragon and you didn’t. And even though she felt sorry for your loss, she simply didn’t want to let you take part in her possessions.

So when the two of you were standing in front of Syrax, Rhaenyra had climbed on her and had flown away without taking you with her. She had just glared at you and forbid you to ever approach her dragon without her. Rhaenyra had felt powerful, superior, better and she enjoyed the feeling too much to help you with your suffering. It was also something that she had used in your fight for Daemon’s attention. Daemon had Caraxes, she had Syrax and you… had nothing. Rhaenyra sometimes used to go fly on Syrax with your uncle on his dragon while you stood on the ground watching them sadly. Rhaenyra and Daemon had been able to bond over their dragons while you still had to process your dragon’s death.

But you definitely couldn’t accuse your uncle of not having been there for you. He was with your father the person that had helped you the most through this horrible time. A few days after Sunwave had died you had stood on the balcony outside the red keep, staring at the sky with tears streaming down your face as if you had been trying to find her in the sky. You hadn’t heard Daemon approach you but then had been pulled into a hug. He had just hold you, stroke your back and listened to you crying and then had taken you on a stroll through the garden.

At first you had been silent, thinking the second you’d open your mouth you would start sobbing again but then you had felt the need to speak. "It is not fair.", you had said, your lips pressed together and Daemon had taken your hand. "It’s not fair.", he had spoken and the words had gushed out of you.

You had told him about all the times you had sat on Sunwave’s back, dug out every memory you had of her and Daemon had simply listened while holding your hand. And he would sit with you by the sea, just staring at the waves crashing against the rocks without saying anything. He would read you from the old books in the library in the keep about Sunwave’s ancestors. He would go to the altar you had built for her on Dragonstone with you. He had known what you might want and need during that time and had said just the right things. It had seemed like, having a dragon himself he genuinly had felt for you and had been sad about Sunwave’s death.

The two of you had gone to Caraxes together and different to Rhaenyra, Daemon had let you touch him, had taken you with him on his dragon's back so you could find a little comfort in it. But that again had made Rhaenyra mad and she had been even more unwilling to let you near her dragon so she could make you feel excluded from her and Daemon. It had been exhausting and difficult but you couldn’t be angry at Rhaenyra about it. She had been a little girl, 14 years of age and you knew how irrational and angry one could be at that age. And she seemed to be more good-willed now so you smiled widely at her.

"I would actually love to.", you answered her shyly, scared that she would change her mind if you appeared too excited but Rhaenyra just held out her hand. "Come on."

~~~~~~~~~~

An hour later your hands tightly held on to Rhaenyra as the two of you flew through the air. You had your hands wrapped around her waist and your chin on her shoulder. It had been a while since you had sat on a dragon and felt a little shaky but nethertheless, you loved it.

"Wuhuu.", you screamed against the heavy wind and your sister laughed out loud. "Hold tightly on to me, Vhaela. Be careful, alright? Father is going to kill me if I don’t bring you back down safely.", Rhaenyra said loudly and you tightened your grip. "Yes, I’m safe."

You closed your eyes and felt the wind in your hair. You hadn’t known how much you missed being on a dragon’s back. Daemon had taken you with him on Caraxes quite a few times but it had been some time since he last did. How a dragon moved so elegantly and smoothly through the sky… It was truly magical and you wished you could experience it more frequently.

"It’s amazing, Rhae.", you shouted against the loud wind and excitedly squeezed your sisters waist. Rhaenyra slightly turned to you and grinned. "I know."

Her hair was blown into your face and you couldn’t see so well but you didn’t care. You just wanted to save this moment and relive it over and over again. The keep looked so small from so far above the ground and you could see all the little houses that you usually only saw from inside.

A little later, Rhaenyra and you landed with Syrax on Dragonstone. You also hadn’t been to your ancestral’s seat for a while and smiled when you saw the high walls. But the two of you weren’t there to go inside, no, you laid down in the soft grass by the sea next to each other and stared at the sky.

"Hach…", Rhaenyra sighed and closed her eyes. She looked so pretty with the sun shining down on her face. A few freckles were slightly visible on her nose and her lips were drawn into a smile. No wonder every lord in the Seven Kingdoms wanted to take her as wife. Not only was she the heir to the Iron Throne, no her enchanting beauty was visible to everyone with eyes and she would bear some lord’s beautiful children one day.

Rhaenyra opened her left eye and suspiciously looked at you. "What?"

"Nothing.", you quickly said and looked away from your big sister. Rhaenyra closed her eye again and inhaled the fresh air.

"It’s a beautiful day, sister. I only hope it won’t get too windy here, Syrax doesn’t like that." Then she opened her eyes again and turned her head to you.

"But by the way, do you what happened today? At the small council meeting?" You shook your head and caught her gaze.

"The hand…", Rhaenyra giggled and held her hand in front of her mouth. "You know that father wanted to betroth Vaegon to the Tyrell girl. In order to strenghten our houses‘ bonds or whatever.", she rolled her eyes. "But now they seemed to have changed their minds. At least Niclas Tully has. They want to marry Jaehaerys to her."

Rhaenyra snorted with laughter and you joined in. Your sister was the King’s cup bearer so she often told you about the latest discussions and scandals that she heard about during the small council meetings.

"I don’t know who to feel more sorry for. Probably the Tyrell girl. I only hope Jaehaerys will get a new haircut before bedding the poor girl." You laughed again.

Jaehaerys was their cousin and your sister and you both couldn’t stand him. He was… odd and you didn’t know how to talk to him. He wanted to wear his hair short different to a lot of the family members but it always looked as if he neglected his appearence as it was not long enough to be called a long haircut but not short enough to look good either. And Rhaenyra was convinced that Jaehaerys always had bad breath and she thought that his high Valyrian sounded terrible and someone should teach him properly.

Your sister now crossed her arms in front of her chest and stared at the sea again with a frown. "I don’t ever want to get married.", she spoke and you looked at her.

"But you will have to." "I know that I have to. I need to have an heir and… a King consort but I don’t know. The thought of having a child in my belly?" She looked down to her stomach and you laughed and poked her.

"I’d be happy to have little nieces and nephews.", you giggled and Rhaenyra sulked and poked you back.

"You’ll be with child soon after me, so do not make fun of me."

"I think I’m scared of the pain. When you give birth.", you then said. Rhaenyra looked like she was thinking and tore a blade of grass from the ground.

"But they all did it. Mother, aunt Bhaena, grandmother… It can’t be too horrible if Bhaena has had six children." You lifted your eyebrows.

"Well, she had to. It is her duty." Rhaenyra played with the grass stalk in her hand.

"Do you think being bedded hurts a lot?" Your heart sank into your belly and you felt your heart beat faster.

"Ehm I don’t know.", you spoke and hoped your voice wasn’t shivering. Rhaenyra didn’t seem to notice it and continued to stare at the grass in her hands.

"I simply heard things like this from other women. My handmaiden told me that she has lost her maidenhood on a boat. Not a ship, sister, a boat. Can you believe that?"

You grinned. "But why?"

"She told me that she had a lover once who she wanted to marry. She was deeply in love and wanted to spend every second with him but he was a fisher. He had to sail out in the ocean every morning and only return late at night. Well, Eranah, that’s her name, wasn’t content to only see him so late so… She started to get up early in the morning and go with him. Her lover told her that it was a mad idea and that she shouldn’t do it but she did it nevertheless. At 4 in the morning she stood by the dock, she told me. The other fishers couldn’t believe their eyes but she simply walked past them and got on the ship. They spent their days together even though he obviously still had to work. But Eranah was happy to see him more and then one day they coupled on a little jolly boat. They made love under the light of the moon."

You smiled and closed your eyes. "That sounds beautiful."

"I know. That’s true love, you know. And that’s what I’m never gonna get. Father is gonna find a match for me, probably some old ugly lord. Not someone I truly want to be with." Rhaenyra nibbled at her thumb and you watched the side of her face.

"You don’t know that."

Your sister turned to you and frowned. "Oh of course I know that. He’s never gonna let me find a match myself. And even if I was allowed to, how high are the chances that I’m gonna find someone who I love and who turns out to be a lord of a great house who father is gonna approve of? This marriage is set to strengthen the realm, not set to make me happy."

"But you should try at least. I think if you spoke to father he might agree to letting you search for a good match yourself. And who knows, maybe there is someone waiting for you out there.", you giggled and Rhaenyra pushed you away, chuckling herself. But then she got serious again.

"You can find your own match." You smiled and shook your head. "I can’t just marry anyone, Rhae. I wouldn’t be allowed to marry a lowborn either."

"But you can marry anyone else. As long as he is highborn." You grinned. "Do you think father would allow me to marry Jason Lannister?" Your sister grinned widely and you both started laughing.

"Fine, not anyone. But… you don’t have the responsibility to unite the realm with your match." You didn’t know what to answer to that and grabbed your sister’s hand.

"I’m sorry.", you eventually whispered. "I know that it is a burden, sister."

She smiled at you but it didn’t reach her eyes. "But perhaps you’re right. Maybe I will find myself a kind husband." She squeezed your hand and looked at you.

Then her gaze wandered down and she frowned.

"Is that a new necklace?", Rhaenyra asked and you looked down to the pendant glistening on your skin. Your sister reached out and grabbed the piece of jewellery that Daemon had gifted you and examined it closely.

"It’s pretty. Since when do you have it?" You didn’t look your sister in her eyes while saying your next words and instead looked at the pendant.

"Uncle gave it to me. When he came back from the Stepstones.", you mumbled trying to sound as indifferent as possible. You couldn’t see the look on Rhaenyra’s face.

"Ah.", she then said and let go of the pendant. "But when did he give it to you? You didn’t come with us to the dock."

"He came to see me shortly after.", you said quietly and stared at your fingers. Your sister nodded and you finally carefully lifted your gaze.

Her mouth looked a little tense and the smile had vanished and you felt like there was a weight on your heart. You just had had a peaceful and beautiful time with your sister and didn’t want to destroy it.

"Well, it looks a little like the one he has bought me for my last name day. Only that mine was of pure Valyrian steel.", Rhaenyra spoke and you felt this bad feeling spreading inside of you again. It was as if there was this spot inside your veins and whenever your sister and you had these kind of conversations and fights something poke that spot and this dark and viscious liquid leaked out of it and dispersed in your veins. It made your body feel heavy with negative thoughts and it instantly tired and hurt you. You gulped loudly. You didn’t want this, you didn’t want to start fighting like this again and so you swallowed the pain.

"I remember it. It had a sapphire on it, didn’t it?", you breathed.

"Yes.", your sister smiled wrongly and proudly looked at the waves crashing against the walls of Dragonstone.

[sugar-crash]

🏎️Turbo (Wreck-It Ralph) x (gn) Reader🏁

(Beginning Relationship Pt. I Edition!)

(It took me fucking forever to find a picture from the movie of Turbo [far too cowardly to use fanart]. Which, as we all know, is fitting.)

- To go into deeper detail on this, your time dating Turbo when he was all high and mighty was… Eventful to say the very least.

- We don’t know much about how Turbo pre-RoadBlasters disaster besides the most obvious points: passionate, sore winner, an even sorer loser, hot-headed, and finally the cherry on this red-white cake; Spite.

- His passion for various things bleeds into the other things in his life, giving a drive that goes beyond the racing track, with the relationship he gains with you being one of those things with a lot of time and patience.

- Victory kisses at the end of the day are a must, even when listening to his frustrated woes from certain players playing game wrong, saying things like “I’M FATTEST RAT IN THE RACE! WHY SHOULD I SUFFER WHEN THESE MOTION DEAF TERMITES DECIDE TO PUT A COUPLE OF COINS IN MY GAME???” ….Yeah <3

- I think in many ways that if you get his trust so much to the point where you guys start dating, he just kinda expects you to listen to his aggravated rants and not do the same for you— Which takes a lot of time to rectify, in his mind he doesn’t think you “have it as bad” as him, as ignorant as that is.

- Yeah he doesn’t exactly get a trophy for “best lover”, that’s for sure.

- And his stubborn behavior doesn’t make that any better, takes him a while to get certain things drilled into his brain when he finally realizes what you’re saying isn’t “nagging”.

- Don’t get him wrong, I genuinely think he has the capability to care for someone else over himself, it just takes a whole lot of work for him to consciously realize that.

- PDA isn’t really much of a thing for Turbo (except for his “well earned” victory kisses) , he has a reputation to uphold as one of the most popular game characters in the arcade, though behind closed doors he basically demands the attention you give him at first.

- If you don’t like being ordered around and tell him as such, it takes a series of fights to realize being bossy in a romantic relationship (or any in general) isn’t exactly the best thing. The obvious in these situations isn’t to him, he has a very one track mind (pun intended) and doesn’t like change when it effects him.

- Which is very understandable, human even, I think that many of us, if we had a choice, would keep things just the way we like it. But— Life itself is all about change, conflict, differing opinions, etc. And while it is aggravating to no end, it’s something a person has to come to terms with.

- Someone like Turbo struggles with that concept, why can’t he act the way he finds more natural?? This stone set mindset drives many way, even the people from his game— Even you at times.

- He loves you to death, with the way he sticks close to you after hours, the way he gets a momentary soft look at you when he thinks you aren’t looking is perceptible to people who pay attention.

- Much like his latter self, King Candy, he has the tendency to hide things from you— Not in a way that maintains a noble or joyous persona, but in a way that tries to hide his softness for you, the desire to clutch you close and never let go.

- The feelings your mere existence gives him scares him, not that he would ever admit that, not even to himself.

- He hates that at times his feelings depend on how you feel, and trying to understand it only stirs the pot, touches of comfort are met with a scoff and some variation of “I’m not some fragile lamb you can comfort.” Though at that point his reactions aren’t nearly as explosive as they used to be.

- Over time I believe that with your help he is able to maintain more composure— Thinking before acting, which is something he is desperate need for.

- Your relationship is very hit and miss at times, but what is love without conflict? BORING, that’s what I say at least.

- Who he is as a whole is both a blessing and a curse, really makes a person think in a “What goes on in that asshole’s head? And how the fuck did he get with someone?”

- The time you have with him before RoadBlasters was installed was special, not perfect in the slightest, but you guy had your moments that one can look at later on with a sense of melancholy.

(Abyiv-ahzapj! *SVBK MHYA UVPZL*)

[yermes]

Advice for setting clear boundaries at work and how to say no in a work setting 🌙

In a world that is so hard the biggest act of rebellion is to be violently gentle

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Pick a meme

123

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Disclaimer: please take what I say with a grain of salt and not as the gospel. I just want to share some ideas of practicing and giving advice using the medium as often as I can with school, work, and my own personal studies and practice. But I am working on sharing my notes soon so that will be exciting! Liking and sharing does a lot 🥰

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Socials: TipJar | Follow me!

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The cards

Full moon in virgo 🌈

Don’t worry about work. Worrying only means you suffer twice and as a very open person you are very sensitive to the shitty vibes of the work place. Do not second guess but also do not strong arm. You work for minimum wage, you are allowed to act like it. People may pressure you into going above and beyond but do not go above your pay grade. Do not burn yourself out. Do not be a dick to yourself or others.

New moon in cancer 🦀

You don’t have to be so un-relatable. You put up walls to protect yourself you isolated yourself. There are people who want to make work more livable and more enjoyable with you and as long as you have clear boundaries you should maybe keep a few people close. Put your family first, most of all. And go over your goals and understand why you work in the first place and set up little fun goals to make work more enjoyable, but be emotionally aware of how your coworkers affect you emotionally.

New moon in Aquarius 🏺

Talk to your coworkers, are you mad about how much you get paid? Talk to coworkers. Feel unsupported by upper staff. Talk to coworkers. More often than not they feel a similar way to you and gaining connections and getting a conversation going to understand the failings of the work place will be huge. Good team bonding too. However, whatever is bringing you stress at work. Detach from the situation, think outside the box and think about the work community as a whole

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Extras:

Story/vent:

New decks monday, rituals Tuesday, school Wednesday

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[physalian]

Character Types: The “Fixer”

Oh look it’s another chance to bring exposure to casual traumas in real people thinly disguised as writing advice heyyyyy

The “Fixer” is the character who puts everyone else before themselves, but isn’t quite so self-destructive as the jaded loner—this person’s whole schtick is that everyone else’s needs and emotions come first, which will usually end up with them behaving and appearing very extroverted, fun, and kind.

They have no idea they’re doing it, either, and see nothing wrong with their behavior or what logic there is in saving a little slice of the pie for themselves. They’re not self-loathers or angsty abusers and if there are parts of themselves that they don’t like, they probably think of these aspects as “what can you do? Oh well” with zero motivation to exercise their demons, because they don't see them as demons but something they deserve to suffer with.

Or, they know exactly what they’re doing and cannot see the merit at all in themselves deserving a piece of the pie, as if they’re inherently lesser than everyone around them for Reasons they cannot articulate, Reasons that, if their friends or loved ones share the exact same traits, they’d bend over backwards and make excuses for. They have normalized their existence that there’s nothing left to angst over. “I am lesser” is just. A statement of fact.

These characters come in several flavors:

The parental figure (possibly single) or “mature” one in the family who’s always prepared, always has the big backpack with bandaids and wet-naps, probably the first to say “we’re family, all’s forgiven” in effort to keep the peace.  They’re the person who literally eats last or not at all, even when conserving food isn’t necessary, usually with the smallest, now-cold serving. Also can be the parentified sibling.

The person in a romantic relationship doing a whole lot more giving than receiving, whether it’s physically or emotionally, insisting that they’re fine, that their partner need not go out of their way to do XYZ for them, but is incredibly in tune with anything and everything that their partner might need. They’re likely to be in an abusive relationship, either emotionally or physically, or both, because a sensible partner who loves Fixer as much as the Fixer loves them wouldn’t let Fixer get away with an unfair share of back-breaking emotional labor. The abuser takes full advantage of it and laughs when they’re not looking.

The “mom” of the hero team/friend group, similar to the actual parental figure, but in this dynamic, everyone’s about the same age. The Fixer probably isn’t the leader, but second or third in command, as they don’t think themselves capable of making the Big Decisions and prefer running support. They take the most cramped bedroom, the most undesirable odd jobs, and do far more than their share of the chores and other tasks, probably without the rest of the group realizing it until something happens to them. No one asks this of them, they automatically assume this is their burden and don’t even think to suggest equal shares.

Alternate case:

They’re the “leader” because no one else wants to do the job, pretending to be way less stressed than they are and habitually protecting their team from the worst of it with little white lies, to the point where no one has any idea how much they’re suffering in silence until they eventually break. As opposed to a properly communicative leader who regularly delegates important tasks and is very transparent in all their decisions. They might also be the leader because they don’t think anyone else in their team could perform as well under pressure, pressure they’ve been under their whole life.

I actually wrote two of these, the Original, and then the Original Who Went to Therapy, between two different WIPs.

Original was the second in command of a plucky space crew in the sci-fi WIP I always mention, who was very versatile and OP and thus took it upon himself to take the lion’s share of the work around the ship because he could do it quickly and delegating the tasks to the rest of the crew was, to him, objectively pointless. He was also an empath with an ability he couldn’t turn off, literally stuck doing the emotional labor far and above normal human conditions.

He was a firm believer in “if I can, I must” and repeatedly put himself in dangerous situations because he’s the only one who could escape them alive, and to not act would be selfish, and above all else, he feared looking selfish. This all came to a head when Magical Shenanigans ensued and his own powers turned against him, stressing him to the point of his body going “we are taking a Break” and he got bedridden until he learned how to talk about his feelings and let people in.

While he was sick, him Not Being There for when the rest of the plot carried on without him meant that  his team very badly felt his absence because he did so much without them realizing it, and they did not handle it well, picking a different character to shovel all the labor onto, until they too overstrained themselves, and an intervention was necessary.

He was the friendliest character of the team to their newest member, their only cheerleader when the whole rest of his team was skeptical. He was also quite desperate for validation and approval, to the point where he made a bunch of little white lies that quickly caught up with him, pretending to be something he’s not so people would like him.

—

When I ripped the above character out of that WIP and tossed him and another character into Eternal Night, he got an upgrade and a whole bunch of therapy.

Enter Dorian. The main difference between these two is that Dorian can actually stand up for himself and establish boundaries, and got a friend/girlfriend who went “I can fix him” and actually did. He’s still very much a Fixer with a Martyr complex, a vampire who only turned to make sure the people he was stuck with held up their end of a deal and did not expect to keep living after the deal was done…for about three hundred and fifty more years.

This is a character who was a parentified Fixer, sixteen years older than his oopsie little sibling, and did not handle it well when they were separated. He’s very obvious to everyone who knows him, especially when those people have known him for centuries, and know “yeah give that one a little kid to protect and he will predictably fall on his own stake”.

One of his love interests (he’s poly), the “I can fix him” girlfriend, is not at all afraid to call him out on his martyr bullshit, or when he’s bending over backwards trying to save people who don’t want to be saved, or risking his own sanity, health, and reputation for people who insist they don’t want his help.

I specifically designed and introduced Kymiria to look and act like a stereotypically jealous mean girl who doesn’t want to share her man with the protagonist. Except. She’s right. About everything. She knows Dorian extremely well and got him through some awful shit and isn’t about to stand by and watch him break himself again for someone who she thinks doesn’t deserve him (and she’s also right on that point). How she goes about protecting him is totally different.

But for the mortals who live with his coven, he’s the most popular vampire around and the favorite by all the children for a country mile. No one who hasn’t been living with him for decades has any idea that there’s anything traumatic behind his smiles.

—

I like writing Fixer characters because I don’t get to see enough of them. They’re not as popular as the Angsty Sad Boy and certainly not as popular as My Trauma Excuses My Aggression Boy. People who have suffered tend to fall on either end of two extremes: Either they continue the cycle of hate and abuse or they make absolutely certain no one in their life will ever suffer what they did. I like writing and reading the latter, particularly when they're men as most “fixers” we think of emphasize “womanly” traits of kindness and nurturing.

These characters are also their own worst enemies. Their inability to treat themselves as deserving of respect and forgive themselves continuously gets them into sticky situations that they wouldn’t be in if they were just a little bit more willing to put their own needs first.

—

If you're interested in reading my take on Fixers in a bona fide novel, check out Eternal Night of the Northern Sky!

[beecauseevan]

I would love some romantic buddie! As much as you can give me! Imo buck comes across as the more outwardly romantic/wears his heart on his sleeve kinda guy. I think eddie always wanted to be romantic but never allowed himself to be, because maybe he never felt safe enough or thought it wasn't the "manly" thing to do. So maybe he does like lots of little things to show buck how much he loves him, and something super super romantic like home cooked dinner, candles, bath etc. I mean like the cringest, most sappy romantic shit you can think of...give it all to me

Eddie steps back and surveys his work, a nervous breath escaping him. He can't afford a single mistake. This has to be flawless—it has to become one of those nights they'll always look back on with fondness. Fifty years from now, when Hildy and her AI overlords have taken over the world and even Eddie's extensive core workouts can't keep the back pain at bay anymore, the memory of tonight has to be one of those things that keep them going, along with walking chairs and arthritis meds. There's no room for anything but perfection here, because tonight has been years in the making.

As he stands there, casting a critical eye over the scene in front of him, all of those years come back to him. Six years of painful longing, crashing into Eddie like a high caliber bullet, tearing his body to pieces.

He's 31 and standing in a hospital waiting room, tired and guilty while Isabel suffers because Eddie can't get his shit together. He's 31 and Buck nods at him from across the station because he made sure Chris could come. He's 31 and Buck introduces him to Carla and a weight lifts from his shoulders and he thinks, maybe—and he's 31 and Shannon comes back and nothing else matters.

‎He's 32 and his life is in shambles and Buck saves his son from drowning, saves Eddie from himself, wanna go for the title, and Eddie wants, and maybe—but Chris is there. He's 32 and the well collapses on top of him and when he makes it out it's Buck who holds him up, and he goes to his attorney the very next day and shackles Buck to him legally, because if he can't have him physically that will have to do.

He's 33 and the world has descended into chaos and he sleeps on Buck's couch every day and he lies awake and listens to Buck's steady breathing, up on the loft, and he closes his eyes and he wonders, and he wants—but then he's 33 and Bobby tells him to take a chance on Ana and he does, because that's what a man does.

He's 33 and he's bleeding and Buck is covered in blood, might be hurt, and then the world fades to black and when he wakes up, Buck is with Taylor. He's 33 and he tells Buck he's not expendable, and Buck looks at him like maybe—he's 33 and nothing changes.

He's 34 and he can't love Ana the way he should. He's 34 and Buck tells him to break up with her, and Eddie does, and he wonders if that means, if—but then he's 34 and he's single and Buck isn't. 

He's 34 and his life falls to pieces. He's 34 and he's moved on but he hasn't, the 118 has moved on but Buck hasn't. He's 34 and he hasn't saved anyone but Buck is there, hand warm on Eddie's shoulder, steady in the face of Eddie's grief. He's 34 and Buck breaks up with Taylor and everything could change and nothing does.

He's 35 and Buck is dead and Eddie feels his ribs crack under his palms. He's 35 and 3 minutes and 17 seconds are an eternity spent in hell. He's 35 and Natalia sees Buck. He's 35 and he might as well date. He's 35 and nothing will ever, ever change between them. ‎He's 35 and he wants Buck so bad he might die from it.

He's 36 and his son is gone and he hurt another woman and Buck is dating a man. He's 36 and Buck breaks up with Tommy. He's 36 and he grabs Buck by the shoulders and kisses him until neither of them can breathe.

He's 36, and everything changes.

He's 37, now, and he's standing in his kitchen (their kitchen), and in front of him, the dining table looks like something straight from a pinterest board. The tablecloth is a dark crimson red and he used his good plates and his good silverware. In the middle of the table, a cluster of white candles illuminates the space. Next to the candles, leaving just enough distance to avoid a housefire, there's a vase filled with a dozen red roses.

It looks good. Whether or not it's perfect remains to be seen—only Buck can be the judge of that.

As if on cue, the front door opens. Eddie turns and waits, and when Buck comes through the kitchen door, Eddie is treated to the wonderful sight of his boyfriend, for once stunned beyond words, frozen in candlelight. He was visiting Maddie, and it seems that Jee-Yun got to him—there are watercolor stains on his blue shirt—but he's still the most beautiful thing Eddie has ever seen.

"What..." He looks away from the table, finally, up at Eddie, eyes wide. "Did I forget our anniversary? No, that's—that's in two months."

He's right. They're not celebrating their anniversary, or a birthday, or any other holiday. Eddie did this because Buck deserves it. There's no other reason—there doesn't need to be.

Buck deserves this, because he's had Eddie's back for seven years. Buck deserves this, because he makes Chris smile and Eddie laugh and he's saved both of their lives, more than once, in more ways than Eddie can count. Buck deserves this because he wakes Eddie up with soft kisses to his shoulder and harder kisses to his jawline and because he holds Eddie tight when they lie awake with sweat cooling on their bodies, and tighter still when they fall asleep too late. Buck deserves this because he's kind and he's smart and he makes Eddie's life better just by being in it.

Buck tells Eddie that he loves him all the time, with words and with gestures. Eddie has a harder time with it, even though he loves Buck just the same. Tonight, he wanted to show him as much.

"You didn't forget anything," Eddie assures him, and pulls out one of the chairs so Buck can sit down.

Buck does. His eyes are bright. His cheeks are rosy. Maybe that's the candlelight. Or maybe this is a first for him too.

"Chris?" he asks, as Eddie moves to the stove to get their food.

"He's with Pepa," Eddie says. "They're catching up on Hotshots. We have the house to ourselves."

Buck meets his eyes. A smirk has made its way into his stunned expression, small but striking. "That so?"

Eddie returns it with a smile of his own and comes back with two plates.

"Full disclosure," he says, "this is Bobby's steak."

There is no room for mistakes tonight. Eddie has not mastered steak yet, so he enlisted outside help. Buck smiles at him like he doesn't care, though.

"And there's tiramisu," Eddie adds. He almost stumbles as he sits down, too distracted by that smile. "For later. I got that from Cap, too."

He half expects Buck to call him a cheater (gently, jokingly, in that warmly mocking way he has, the one that makes Eddie want to kiss him until the world ends), but Buck just stares at him. He's still blushing. His foot brushes Eddie's under the table, and his fingers find Eddie's wrist.

"All of this." He waves his free hand at the candles, the flowers, the food. "Why?"

Eddie laces their fingers together and holds Buck's blue-eyed gaze.

"Because I love you," he says. "Because you deserve it. Because—I wanted to make you feel how you make me feel."

"I must make you feel pretty damn good," Buck says quietly. His hand squeezes Eddie's.

"You do," Eddie says simply, because that's not a truth he's ever struggled with. "You really do. And I wanted to give you something—good."

"It's better than good," Buck says and smiles. "It's perfect."

Eddie is 37. It's a perfect night, and the love of his life smiles at him in a kitchen filled with candlelight. He can't wait to be 38, 40, 60, 100. He can't wait to grow old with this man.

[harpieisthecarpie]

Okay not to be analysis georg over Alien Stage but I adore the ROUND 7 (Till vs Luka) art that dropped recently so much. And thus I will be analysis georg

(cw: I lightly and nonexplicitly reference the abuse Till suffered under captivity, including the heavily implied sa.

This is mostly contemplating Till's psyche, how Ivan's impact on Till contrasts the aliens, and art as rebellion against dehumanization. With that comes the possible triggers of Till's story.)

Till's closeup is what compelled me to post at all, because it's a very deliberate choice that speaks to his emotional state going in, and contrasts him strongly against Luka

This is long btw

The closeup focuses on the lower half of Till's face. It draws attention to his mouth and headset mic by mimicking a camera's depth of field to emphasize the yawning space between them, while using the metallic mic as a lure. The lighting sharpens the mic while softening Till.

The emphasis on Till's mouth (and mic) is indicative of a stark emotional shift from Round 6, where crushing hopelessness left him passive and barely singing.

Metatextually, the story being told by completely diagetic music videos ties strongly to the contrast between the aliens who've made the voices of the enslaved humans a commodity and the humans who are only given a voice through song.

There's a reason why music has been used for both propaganda and rebellion throughout our societal conflicts. You can only scream so loud before bystanders tune you out; music compels them to listen.

And I think that dichotomy between authority and autonomy, between the artist as product and as person, within the universe of Alien Stage is going to be delved a lot deeper into with 7.

Till having a hands-free mic and green strap over his shoulder leads me to believe he's going to be playing guitar again. Which we've seen him use for acts of rebellion before.

I saw someone saying the headset was a sign of his isolation, but I see it as him reviving the angry hope he'd extinguished using Ivan's memory. From what I've seen, Till never seemed happy when he had a standing or handheld mic. He's a creative, hands-on guy whose art and rebellions come from when he is able to use those hands.

Drawing, guitar, fighting... there's a reason he was singularly stripped of autonomy in ways we haven't seen happen much elsewhere (that physicality reminds me of Hyuna, I wonder if Luka will notice that). The caging, bodily restrictions, and physical degradation and assault from the aliens singularly target his personhood.

Even in the closeup art there's that possessive ownership, that clear replacement of Person with Commodity. His tears (or sweat) have been pointed out and remarked upon by the aliens. Yet the shot leaves out his eyes, which are often tied to personhood in literature because of how humanizing they are. Dilation, movement, eyelid position, blinking. It's hard to look into a creature's eyes and not understand there's a mind behind them.

The aliens commodify the emotion through his tears but deny the humanity behind them. They dissociate music as art with an artist behind it, even while intuitively knowing how an artist's lived experiences can create compelling music. The aliens want their product, they don't care that art isn't just entertainment to consume. They don't recognize the power music can have. They don't value it enough to truly understand it.

I wonder if this could be analagous to anything in the real world. Hm. Nahhhhhh. ANYWAYS

Till is creating what the aliens want, but the closeup has the same color palette as when he and Ivan were running away during the meteor shower. That shine on the mouthpiece even looks like a falling star.

The meteor shower was a moment of tension. A held breath before a breaking point: you can escape or you can stay trapped, but whatever decision you make you can't ever take it back.

It doesn't matter whether Till believes his last decision to stay was a mistake, he was a different person when Ivan took his hand. And he was changed again when Ivan kissed him before making that stage his death bed. Their death bed, perhaps, since something in Till had to die in order to be revived.

And Till is the only one in that arena who has the memory of running with Ivan under a cascade of falling stars. He is the only one those colors mean anything to. The aliens may be commodifying his tears, but they have no grasp on the emotions behind them. There is something within Till they cannot take, breathed into him by Ivan.

Ivan may have believed his love for Till was shallow, but he gave it freely. One of the reasons I even ship them is because Till has spent all his life in captivity getting pieces of himself carved out by aliens trying to consume his soul, and while Ivan can certainly be fucked up... he has always lain his insides out on a silver platter for Till. Given even the ugly bits over, despite knowing they'd be disregarded.

Till was strangled more visibly for how his humanity spilled out, but Ivan had been slowly suffocating because he refused to let them free. He accepted the role as pet (entertainment product dress-up doll) to keep his humanity safe. He played into the aliens' desires because he refused to give them any parts of himself that mattered.

But he still wanted to be seen, still needed to be known, so he gave them to Till.

And now Till is on that stage again (that had eaten Sua and Mizi and Ivan), carrying fragments of his loved ones that they had slipped into his palms. Quiet moments of joy and despair and fear and love. Bits of themselves they never allowed the aliens to have, that made a home in Till.

And what is love, surrounded by an entire society that refuses to acknowledge your humanity, other than an act of rebellion?

Which I think will be very interesting to see juxtaposed against how Luka seems to be portrayed. With an earpiece seemingly feeding him information, in the cool tones evoking a memory of Hyuna, whose closeup doesn't even deign to glance at his face.

(Though- not to overanalysis georg- it's interesting we get a glimpse at his seemingly gloved fingers. And that their color palettes are both interrupted by a small bit of green. Till's by what I think is a guitar strap, and Luka's by the center of his earpiece- and its sound.)

[drksanctuary]

STUPID WRATH OF THE TRIPLE GODDESS PREDICTIONS

before the book comes out and ruins my fun.

1. ofc Alabaster is in it

2. The polecat is actually Alabaster and the mastiff is claymore. They were accidentally turned into animals by some curse and they need Percy to do something with the ocean or water or whatever to set them free?

3. Alternatively, Al is the one who puts out that liquid for Grover so that Annabeth and Percy can fail

4. Alternatively again. The whole task is actually Alabaster living through his villain era and everything, even Hecate having them over in the first place, is an illusion made to fuck with Percy by design.

5. Lou Ellen Cameo

6. Using Witch instead of “bitch “ bc children’s book

7. Joke about how Percy wants to just be in college and be an adult already bc he feels like he’s been 17 forever

8. Percabeth bickering like an old married couple and an inevitable comparison of watching after wild animals to them having kids one day

9. Lou Ellen helps them out but gets hurt and Percy has to suffer Al’s wrath for harming yet another one of his siblings.

10. Lou introduces Alabaster to Percy and Annabeth. Al: and I’ll help them…why? Lou: bc I’m in charge of Hecate cabin now and you do what I say Al: I’m sorry, you said cabin right, meaning you are in charge of the Hecate kids at camp correct Lou: oh here we go Al: I’m not a part of camp so it doesn’t apply to me!lou: ugh your impossible

11. Huntresses enlisted to help, they can track animals right? They’re huntresses!

12. Percy saying “what’s gotten his goat?” About Grover

13. Also a revamp of my old predictions:

—-Alabaster encouraging Grover to take up eco-terrorism to help along his duty as Pan’s replacement.

——Percy and Annabeth Save Al’s life and he has to help them because he absolutely does not want to OWE them anything.

Ok that’s it bye.

Chalice predictions here in case you missed them:

[cursedvibes]

comparing geto and maki's massacres as the same is crazy to me. geto slaughtered an entire village of defenseless people and justified it as protecting sorcerers from the suffering of those who create curses. maki killed the clan because they explicitly wanted to kill her, mai and even megumi, the new head by naobito's will. she was there to pick up cursed tools and they pushed her to violence after killing her sister. unserious comparison.

Yeah...I can see where they are coming from because Geto was also pushed to extremes and was defending Mimiko and Nanako from harm, but Maki and Mai were abused by the clan, their family, their whole life. They actively tried to kill them. The only one being shown as defenceless is Maki's mother, but she had made it very clear before that she wants to see her daughters dead (she didn't actually mean it, but it doesn't matter what she secretly felt when it doesn't show in her actions). She was no better than Ogi, except she wasn't the one holding the blade. I really can't blame Maki snapping after everything that happened, especially after Mai specifically asked her to burn it all down. Like yes, Ranta seemed like he was one of the nicer ones, but that doesn't change the fact that he was part of the squad responsible for the years of abuse the twins suffered. They already knew from Toji how badly this could backfire, but they still went ahead with not treating Maki any better because she's a woman and Toji didn't retaliate against the Clan, so I guess it couldn't have been that bad... You can argue over who deserved death more than others, but that was hardly a situation for rational thought. It is very unfair to expect Maki to be the bigger person and just walk away from being nearly killed and seeing Mai murdered by their own family.

I think a big difference to Geto is also that Maki didn't go on to indiscriminately murder outside the Zenin Clan. Geto killed his own parents after the village massacre, who as far as we know never did anything wrong except being born non-sorcerers. And he kept going like that for 10 more years. Maki didn't. Hell, she even learned to somewhat reconciliate with how her mother treated her and she doesn't go on a killing spree like that among regular sorcerers, much less civilians. There's a big difference.

Also, I don't get where so many people are taking from that she just shook off the massacre like it was no big deal. She had a whole arc dedicated to dealing with the aftermath and learning to accept her body, Mai and what has happened! Maybe if people didn't skip through the Culling Game arc they'd actually know this (not that I'm bitter or anything). Like, my problem is that we never get the kind of bonding we see between her and Noritoshi or even Daido with the people who are supposed to be her friends (Yuuta, Inumaki, Panda, Nobara etc.). She is clearly affected by what happened, but nobody even asks her how she's doing. The best we get is "Maki is scary now". I would've loved to get more insight into her current mentality along the lines of the Sakurajima colony, something on how she will move on from this, how she will live now without her family (except Megumi), but we got nothing. That's my issue, not what came before. I think Perfect Preparation and Sakurajima colony were great for her character. She isn't the most expressive, but you can still see how affected she is by everything and it is directly addressed how suppressing everything isn't good for her, but then we get nothing past that.

But yeah, apparently she's less redeemable to some than Geto. Because she's cold and people don't pay attention to the arcs that actually delve into her character.

[stillxnunpxidintern]

Little Mishanks x Reader Dabble

So I had this thought earlier when cleaning and listening to music, the Sunday norm.

You are in a relationship with Mihawk and Shanks, have been for a while. You met them both as you live on an island that is under Shanks protection.

Both men keep their relationship with you on the down low to keep you safe, as they're under no illusions that if someone they don't trust finds out you would be in danger.

The Red Force crew and the local knew about you, while they had never met you, both Croc and Buggy know you and seen you're photo as well spoken a couple time. Buggy still couldn't fathom why you would want Shanks, but him and Mihawk were some what of package deal.

They would both call you twice a week, it was kind of their way of knowing that you and the island was fine and it was because of this they were something wrong as you didn't answer either of them what has not happened, as you always answered one of them.

Both men were in high alert as they headed back to your island to find you mainly and Shanks to find who attack an island under his protection. They hoped that you were fine and something had just happened to your den-den but were proven that wasn't the case they arrived at the island to find it had been attacked.

Shanks had sent his men to go help around the town and find information on who did this attack. After that both of them went your home that just outside of town to find that had been ransacked and with you no where to be seen.

Mihawk said the attack on the town was diversion and the real reason was to take you, so that meant someone had found out about you but who. No one on the Red Force would say anything and Cross Guild members knew not to cross him.

They grabbed some of your clothes so that when they found you, you would some clothes, cause no doubt when they found you, you would be in need of some clothes.

The senior members of the Red Force told them what they had found out it wasn't lot as the attack suddenly and quick but was able to get something to help point in the direction.

A few weeks a had passed and still they couldn't find and their temperament was getting worse, attacking more ships that crossed their path and annoyed them.

It was when Crocodile need to get out before he killed that damn crown, who was getting on his nerves quicker without Mihawk there, so he went out and went after a group of pirates that was causing to much trouble near by and didn't need the marine poking their noses where they weren't need.

After dealing with the pirates with ease, he went searching to find what treause they had as they weren't going to need it now. He found that and would send men to come collect however what he wasn't expecting to find you, tied up and beaten nearly black and blue.

He kind of wished he left some of the crew alive, just to he could watch Mihawk and Shanks destroy them but it was a little to late for that now, so he picked you up went back to the Big Top Blaster and handed you over to the doctor before going to inform Mihawk of you.

When both men learnt you were now at the Big Top Blaster, recovering after having been rescued so they quickly headed to the ship was currently, as they weren't told what condition you were in.

When they arrived they went straight to the infimary where you were and saw just how you bad you were, they both wanted blood and the crew who did, but Crocodile regretted to inform that he had killed them all, a mistake on his part after found you.

Both were unhappy with that they didn't get to make them suffer after what they did to you but they couldn't do anything about now.

While you recover both Mihawk and Shanks were trying to figure out what was best the action, you couldn't so back to your island till they find out who could of possible given the info that you were with them both. They went back and fourth on if you should stay on the Big Top Blaster or the Red Force or maybe an island but they would rather keep have one of them have eyes on you and can protect you themselves.

When you asked if you got a say in this, they told you that no, not till they knew who it was that gave that information out. So you just let them work out what was going to happening, as you knew whatever they chose would be the for you.

[merwgue]

The A Court of Thorns and Roses (ACOTAR) fandom is one of the most divided literary communities today. It’s not just a matter of which characters people ship, but rather a deep schism over how people interpret the characters, themes, and real-life issues embedded in the story. The arguments go far beyond typical fandom disagreements and have morphed into full-fledged debates about morality, trauma, and the human condition. At the heart of these conflicts is the tendency for fans to project their own experiences and values onto the characters, creating new "canon" versions of the story to fit their narrative. What makes this even more significant is that ACOTAR isn’t just fantasy fiction—it touches on real issues like domestic abuse, sexual coercion, trauma, and mental health. These are not fictional concepts; they are lived experiences for many people. By brushing these topics aside or simplifying them, the fandom risks doing a disservice to the people who see their own pain mirrored in the pages of these books.

"It’s Just Fiction" — A Dismissive Take on Real Issues

When people say "it’s just fiction," they’re missing the point. Fiction, especially in fantasy, is often used as a mirror to reflect real-world problems. In ACOTAR, we see characters grappling with trauma, mental illness, abuse, and recovery—things that real people face every day. It’s not simply a story of faeries and magic; it’s a story of survival and the human struggle to overcome deep-seated pain.

Take Rhysand’s actions, for instance. Under the Mountain, he subjects Feyre to what can only be described as sexual coercion, making her dress in revealing clothing and sit on his lap while drugged, all under the guise of "protecting" her. In the real world, this would be considered sexual harassment or even assault. The argument that he was forced into these actions to protect her doesn’t erase the trauma it inflicted on Feyre. Fans who brush this off as a romantic plot device are ignoring the very real dynamics of power, consent, and coercion that exist in abusive relationships.

Similarly, Gwyn’s backstory, though not heavily detailed, strongly implies that she was gang-raped by Hybern’s forces during the war. The fact that this is left as an undertone in the series, not explicitly addressed, doesn’t make it any less important. Sexual violence, like what Gwyn endured, is a topic that has far-reaching emotional and psychological consequences for survivors. Yet, in some corners of the fandom, these moments are glossed over in favor of debating which romantic pairing is better.

Tamlin: Abuser or Victim of Circumstance?

Tamlin is one of the most hotly contested characters in the series, and it’s easy to see why. His actions in A Court of Mist and Fury—where he physically confines Feyre, restricts her movements, and isolates her from the outside world—are textbook examples of domestic abuse. There’s no argument that what he did was wrong. But there’s also context that complicates his character and, in some ways, makes him more sympathetic than he’s often given credit for.

Tamlin was traumatized by the events Under the Mountain, forced to watch helplessly as his people suffered for fifty years. He was powerless, and that sense of impotence likely contributed to his need for control once Feyre returned to the Spring Court. He was terrified of losing her, and that fear manifested in controlling behavior. Does that excuse what he did? Absolutely not. But it provides a context that many readers seem to ignore. Tamlin was also suffering, and he lacked the emotional tools to cope with his trauma in a healthy way.

Feyre, too, was suffering, but neither of them communicated effectively, and their relationship deteriorated as a result. Both were deeply broken, but instead of healing together, their trauma pulled them apart. Some fans take this complexity and reduce Tamlin to a one-dimensional abuser, ignoring the fact that many abusers come from places of deep pain themselves. Others take it too far in the opposite direction, defending every action he took. The truth lies somewhere in between: Tamlin was an abuser, but he was also a victim of his own unresolved trauma.

Rhysand: Savior or Manipulator?

Rhysand, on the other hand, is often seen as Feyre’s savior, the one who rescues her from Tamlin’s abuse and shows her how to be strong. But the fandom’s lionization of Rhysand ignores many of his own toxic behaviors, particularly his emotional manipulation of Feyre.

While Tamlin physically trapped her, Rhysand’s control was far more insidious. He isolated Feyre mentally, ensuring that the only people she trusted were members of his Inner Circle—people whose loyalty ultimately lies with him. Over time, Feyre’s connections to anyone outside of Rhysand’s immediate orbit are severed. Lucien, who had been a close friend, is gradually pushed away, and Feyre is left with no one to question her relationship with Rhysand.

This emotional isolation is a form of manipulation that can be just as damaging as physical confinement. Rhysand controlled the narrative around Feyre, making sure that she only saw the world through his lens. This is most evident in A Court of Silver Flames, when he instructs his Inner Circle not to tell Feyre about the dangers of her pregnancy. He withholds vital information about her own body, taking away her agency and reducing her to a bystander in her own life. The fact that Mor, Cassian, Amren, and Azriel all follow his orders without question only reinforces the power imbalance in their relationship.

Many fans excuse Rhysand’s actions because he’s portrayed as the "good guy" in contrast to Tamlin. But when you strip away the romantic lens, Rhysand’s behavior is just as controlling and manipulative, albeit in a different way. The fact that Feyre wasn’t physically confined doesn’t make his actions any less problematic.

The Creation of a New "Canon"

Given the complexity of these characters and the morally gray areas they inhabit, it’s no wonder that parts of the fandom have taken to creating their own "canon" versions of the story. Fans rework characters’ motivations, rewrite key events, and even create alternate universes to fit their preferred narrative. In some ways, this is a normal part of any fandom; people create headcanons and fan fiction to explore different possibilities within the world. But in the ACOTAR fandom, this rewriting often feels like a necessity rather than a choice.

Pro-Rhysand fans, for instance, downplay or outright ignore his more problematic actions, painting him as the perfect mate for Feyre. On the flip side, anti-Tamlin fans erase any nuance in his character, labeling him irredeemable and unworthy of any sympathy. It’s as if the original narrative can no longer be accepted as it is because it doesn’t fit into a simple good vs. evil framework.

This rewriting of canon can be harmful because it erases the complexities that make these characters human. Tamlin is not just a villain, and Rhysand is not just a hero. Both characters have committed acts of abuse, but they also have their own traumas and struggles that inform their actions. Ignoring these complexities simplifies the narrative in a way that doesn’t do justice to the story’s deeper themes.

The Seriousness of ACOTAR’s Themes

The divisions within the ACOTAR fandom aren’t just about ships or character preferences; they’re about how seriously the themes of the series should be taken. Domestic abuse, sexual coercion, trauma—these are not just plot points to be dismissed as fiction. They are real, painful experiences that people face every day.

Feyre’s experiences with both Tamlin and Rhysand reflect different forms of abuse, and neither should be diminished. Tamlin’s physical control was overt and obvious, while Rhysand’s emotional manipulation was more subtle but no less damaging. Both forms of abuse are real, and both deserve to be addressed with the gravity they warrant.

Similarly, Gwyn’s implied assault is a reflection of the horrors that many survivors of sexual violence face. Her story is not just a subplot; it’s a reflection of the very real trauma that many women endure. Dismissing these moments as mere fiction invalidates the experiences of readers who may have lived through similar pain.

Conclusion

The ACOTAR fandom is divided because the series itself is complex, filled with morally gray characters and real-world issues that demand serious consideration. By rewriting canon to fit personal narratives, parts of the fandom are erasing the very complexities that make the story impactful. Domestic abuse, sexual coercion, trauma—these are not topics that should be brushed aside or simplified. They are reflections of real pain, and they deserve to be treated with respect and understanding. Both Tamlin and Rhysand are flawed characters, and both engage in abusive behaviors, though in different ways. Acknowledging these complexities is essential to understanding the series as a whole, and it’s something the fandom, as divided as it is, must come to terms with.