#it's just funny to me because i read some fics describing apartments as like
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Au fics that i think are neat and that i want to compile into a list because im trying to figure out how to comment on a chapter of a fic but i need time to sort out my thoughts (usually for fic recs i try to rec fics with less kudos/engagement because reasons but im just gonna throw everything in this list. probably multiple fics by the same author in the same universe because thats the one im trying to sort out my thoughts on.)
the strawberries are dying by eggowlss - historical fiction and very interesting character relationships and also character exploration within the time period. I really like this one because the pacing and tone are very gentle. There’s a srt of ebb and flow to the story that makes both the time period and the characters really fit into it. idk how to describe it i just like it a lot.
in the quiet of the night (acswy ao3 series) - they’re putting those characters in situations. It’s a very good time. 10/10 do recommend. If you haven't heard of this one though, it’s basically a modern au where everyone works at a summer camp and Mike and Will cause problems for themselves, each other, and usually everyone else around them.
si vis amari, ama by perexcri - demons and angels and heaven and hell and its honestly just one hell of a story. like ive got vivid images in my head of scenes i imagined when reading this.
you start to kiss (and the record skips) by eclipseadventure - this is a band au with a side of a secret relationship and im a sucker for secret relationships. a bit of drama/high stakes in here too which is always pretty fun.
End Racism on the OTW! - you and me and the horrible teenaged ghost who keeps eviscerating himself in our apartment makes three by TheWrongKindOfPC - i am also a sucker for buzzfeed unsolved aus. buzzfeed unsolved, hauntings, ghosts, yknow the fun stuff.
into the daylight by andiwriteordie - THIS IS NOT THE FIRST ONE, it’s just the first one that came up in my bookmarks. anyways, this is the second fic in a fantasy au series. The worldbuilding is really cool and there’s magic and history and politics and i like it a lot. the most recent chapter is spinning around in my mind.
the heartbreak prince by andiwriteordie - THIS IS THE FIRST ONE.
beneath these boughs, my devotion blooms by perexcri - this is the fic that nearly killed me. i literally cant summarize it because im still recovering from what happened to me when i read it. Did i read it in april? Maybe. Listen, it had me asking questions about things i had never considered before. its 11k but im pretty sure it took me a good few hours to read because it made me think about it so much. again, ive got a bunch of visuals running through my head. its just... so much.
sweetheart, you're so cruel by perexcri - Mike’s in a band, Will’s a music snob, they’re both contemplating their life choices. very fun, very interesting, also made me think about some things.
keep it hush by wiseatom - theres an amusement park and the horrors of customer service. and some other stuff but basically its pretty bright (the visuals of the fic in my head are bright- like sun glinting off metal- and idk how else to describe it)
the start of an age by delusionaltogether (Whyyyyy) - this ones funny and serious at times and its got Max in it. fantasy au with prince will and knight mike and a secret relationship and a small scheme between three parties that involves a fake (ish) marriage.
superhero therapy by silverluminoqity - spiderman au with a side of trauma and healing? it’s complicated theres stuff happening, i had a good time reading it.
you've got this spell on me by andiwriteordie - this one was really fun. basically its a fantasy au theres magic and mike gets himself hit with a spell that makes him fall in love with will and will freaks out about it for a while.
Daydream by disaster_energy - i really really liked this fic. its a fantasy au and its got gods and stuff and will gets chosen by the moon goddess because hes Will and everyone is like... woah.
takes one to know one by andiwriteordie - i also liked this one a lot, its a superhero au and its got ironic (like... dramatic irony- i think is what im talking about? maybe? but like fun irony) secret identities.
Love goes 'round by evil_ontheinside - conversations in a laundry mat. mikes flopping (as in, flopping around like a fish) around a bit and this was pretty cute.
my promise could be your fiend (could be the smallest of signs) by s0ld_it - spider man au, theres a bookstore involved and a lot of stuff. ive read this fic twice and greatly enjoyed it both times.
Tip-toeing on Lily-pads by cherryisgone - very very fun, fantasy au and... mike gets cursed to be a frog. can only be un-cursed with a kiss.
filling in the blanks as we go by delusionaltogether (Whyyyyy) - bookstore meetcute
there’s more but i spent all day painting my room and i am tired. Ive also got way too many bookmarks to go through and i have decided to stop here. still haven't figured out how to write that comment (but i am working on it because i love the fi(s) and ive been thinking about one specific thing that came up in a new chapter for so long). anyways, i hope someone enjoys this list of au fics from my bookmarks.
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Floyd, Jade And Azul's Backstory - Monster AU
Monster: simply Sea Monsters, I do not have the patience to describe them perfectly, and I do not have the artistic ability to Create them sdlkjhdslfj To be perfectly honest this could just be read as canon as well sdfksdjfhljdf
Word Count: ~ 0.58 K
Relationships Mentioned: Just the little Guys being Dudes
TW: Tweels bully baby Azul, Azul looses his cool, implied ripping Azul apart, the Tweels find violence funny, etc.
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"Ehheeee he's squishy!! I could squeeze him til his eyes POP out!" Floyd emphasized his point by giving Azul another, harder squeeze around his midsection, causing Azul to protest, only for Jade to hold his mouth open and examine it.
"Do you eat with this mouth or do you have a beak? Floyd turn him upside down!"
"WHAT?? N-no, you guys, leave me alone, you're gonna make me ink again!" Azul's protests fell on deaf ears as Floyd, giggling, spun him upside down, readjusting his long barbed tail to wrap around four of Azul's tentacles. Jade following suite on the other side, giggling in delight at Azul's distress.
"You're so tiny and squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeshy!!!! Except for this part! We should take it out so you're allll squishy!!" Floyd's clawed finger tapped at his beak, making Azul cry out at the idea.
"Leave me alone! You know if I w-wanted I could ma-"
"If you W-waNtEd you'd what?" Floyd mocked him as Jade peered curiously down at the other boys beak, before tapping it gently, not unlike his brother.
"We'll let you go if you let us watch you eat-" Floyd shot Jade a look that immediately read as that's boooooring, but Jade just rolled his eyes in response "Otherwise Floyd's gonna pry it open anyways." He gave his brother a small smile, and Floyd gave him his happy wiggles in response and started knocking on his beak.
Azul had had enough of the ridicule and threats, expanding himself as a storm brewed over the water.
'I'M DONE PLAYING THIS GAME!"
He grew multiple times his size, sniffling a bit, before grabbing each of the tweels around their waists, not unlike they had done to him. He had a huge pout on his face, only further emphasized by his chubby cheeks as he started moving the Tweels like dolls, making sure not to prick himself on their spines.
He bounced Floyd around mockingly "I have no brains and disappoint my family."
Then he bounced Jade in response, "I'm scary and will never have any real friends because I'm a freak!"
A tense, shocked silence fell across the three of them, before the Tweels burst into laughter.
"We don't need anyone else! We got each other!"
"You know, you hold your own better than we expected. Maybe if we do have a friend, it could be you?" Jade gave Azul what was supposed to be a shy smile.
It was enough to work on him.
Azul relaxed, the storm above dissipating as he came back down into his regular size, letting the twins go and fidgeting with his hands, looking down at them.
"You'd wanna be friends after all that?"
Floyd squealed with joy, coming behind Azul and poking his cheek.
"That was so cool!! You gotta do it again! We can't see that again if we're not friends!!"
Jade floated a bit in front of him, nodding slightly.
"Friends look out for each other. Do we have a deal?" He held his clawed hand out to Azul expectantly.
Azul gently shoved Floyd away from him, hesitantly reaching out to shake Jade's hand. Jade moved forward and took Azul's hand in his, before pulling him closer.
"If you break our deal, the option to rip out your beak is very much a viable option still. We know what you can do. You don't know about us."
Jade laughed softly before letting Azul go.
"Come on, let's find some food. You can even have first dibs."
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A/N: I had to combine them bc I.....I had no original ideas for them, and don't really want any. I can see them in my head but I don't have the energy for a full blown fic, and this puts me back on schedule as I head into Midterm season
if you made it here, you might want to check out my other Twstober works here, or if you're looking for some fluff after that fic, you can check out my main masterlist here.
Ask box is open if you have any questions! Thanks for reading!
#v talks#twisted wonderland#twst#monster au#twsttober#twst hcs#twst headcanons#twstober#twst monster au#azul ashengrotto#jade leech#floyd leech#monster au azul#monster au jade#monster au floyd
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The Queen of the Quills - Jily Edition (part 2)
Posting on Tumblr too because this fic's sister is already there.
Reading The Queen of the Quills - Blackinnon Edition will not be mandatory to understand the developments of James and Lily's story, but some details could be shared, therefore, for anyone wishing to fully enjoy the experience, I will leave a small index.
Blackinnon Edition - Chapter 1
Blackinnon Edition - Chapter 2
Jily Edition - Chapter 1
Blackinnon Edition - Chapter 3
This was @athenasparrow's gift for @jilymicrofics ' Exchange 2024, but if you like it and are willingly to reblog, it would be super appreciated since stories like this require quite some time and effort🥰
Plot: James Potter, London's most evasive bachelor, an impertinent libertine, has decided to get married. He has also already chosen his wife, the debutante Lily Evans, a self-confident young woman who has not the slightest intention of being seduced by such a man. A Bridgerton inspired Regency AU.
Words: 1842
Warnings: angst because of Fleamont Potter's death. If you feel uncomfortable with the topic I suggest to skip the whole fic since it's kind of central to the story. If you want a more lighthearted Jily Recency AU, or any other kind of Marauders Era content, DM me or drop and ask with a prompt from this list or a brand new idea.
The topic of rakes had, of course, been previously and extensively discussed, but this author has come to the conclusion that there are rakes (lower-case) and Rakes (upper-case). James Potter is part of the latter, a danger for women of every age and upbringing. He doesn’t flaunt his exploits because he doesn’t need to – women and men alike will whisper about them in his stead – and he knows who he is and what he has done, further recounting only a redundant afterthought. He doesn’t behave like an idiot for the simple reason he isn’t one and he has little patience for the foibles of society. If that doesn’t describe Mr. Potter, surely this season’s most eligible bachelor, to perfection, this author shall retire her quill immediately.
The Queen of the Quills, May 3, 1813
“Please don’t tell me she’s writing about him again,” Lily Evans said to the room at large.
Her sister Petunia, older by almost four years, looked up from behind the single-sheet newspaper to ask her how she could tell. The answer was quite easy: she was giggling like a madwoman, shaking the blue damask sofa on which they both sat. It happened often, just as the Queen of the Quills often wrote about reprehensible rogues.
“Mom, Lily is in a snit because the columnist is talking about that rakish wizard again,” Petunia lamented, and Elizabeth Evans glanced up from her embroidery, pushing her spectacles farther up the bridge of her nose, a sign she was ready to take part in the conversation.
“Mr. Potter?” she asked, and Petunia nodded, but the question itself was merely rhetorical, for she always had something to say about him. Lily remembered how he was at Hogwarts, although he was several years older. Her peers all found him handsome, funny, charming, and talented, but to her he was just a well disguised bully, although no one knew of her opinion apart from Severus.
“He sure is an interesting character,” conceded their mother, without adding her usual as is Lily. Before finding Petunia crying desperately in her room at the lack of compliments on her appearance, she would’ve done it.
With her red hair and startlingly green eyes, Lily had already been named the Incomparable of 1813, sparkling the blood supremacists’ rage. Petunia, on the other hand, with her plain brown hair and pale eyes, was usually referred to as the Incomparable’s Muggle sister. Lily supposed there were worse monikers, like Muggle spinster, which was a great deal closer to the truth than any of them cared to admit.
At nearly twenty-three, Petunia was a bit long on the tooth to be enjoying her first season in London, but there hadn’t really been any other choice: the Evans hadn’t been wealthy even when Lily’s father had been alive, and since he’d passed on five years earlier, they’d been forced to economize even further, minding every penny and watching every Knut. With their straitened finances, the Evans could manage the funds for only one trip: renting a house and hiring the bare minimum of servants for the season was expensive, so the girls were forced to make their debuts in the same year, after Lily graduated from Hogwarts, only in different marriage marts. To be honest, Lily hadn’t even wanted a season. She’d never learned to simper and mince and walk delicately, all things other girls seemed to know how to do even in the cradle. Surprisingly, Petunia was a part of the lot, while Lily always stood with her shoulders straight and tall, couldn’t sit still if her life depended upon it, and walked as if she were in a race – and why not? She always wondered. If one was going somewhere, what could possibly be the point in not getting there quickly? As for her current season in London, she didn’t even like the city very much. She was having a good enough time, and she’d met quite a few nice people, but a London season seemed a horrible waste of money to a girl who would’ve been perfectly content to remain in the country and find some sensible man to marry there. Sadly, her mother had been adamant, so there she was, sitting in a somewhat faded drawing room in a rented house in a section of London that was almost fashionable, ready to snatch a newspaper from her sister’s grip.
“Lily!” Petunia squealed, her eyes bugging out at the tiny triangle of newsprint that remained between her right thumb and forefinger. “I wasn’t done yet!”
“You’ve been reading it forever,” Lily said with a cheeky grin. “Besides, I want to see what she has to say about Mr. Potter today.”
Petunia’s eyes, which were usually compared to peaceful Scottish lochs, glinted devilishly.
“You seem awfully interested in this wizard,” she mocked. “Is there something you’re not telling us?”
Lily sighed, resigned to the idea that this would be their topic of conversation for the entire morning, unaware that the same thing was happening at a gentlemen’s club in Diagon Alley.
James Potter leaned back in his leather chair, regarded his first scotch of the day with a thoughtful expression as he swirled it about, and then announced he was thinking about getting married. Sirius Black, who had recently returned to London and was indulging in a habit his strict family always detested – tipping his chair drunkenly on the back two legs – fell over. Remus Lupin started to choke, but luckily for him, Sirius regained his seat with enough time to smack him soundly on the back, sending a green olive sailing across the table. It narrowly missed James’s ear, but he let the indignity pass without a comment. He was all too aware that his sudden declaration had come as a bit of a surprise. Well, perhaps more than a bit.
James didn’t fit the image of a man who had settling down on his mind. He’d spent the last decade as the worst sort of rake, taking pleasure where he may, for he was painfully conscious that life was short and meant to be enjoyed. Oh, he had a certain code of honour. He never dallied with well-bred young women, anyone who might have a right to demand marriage strictly off-limits, but as for the others – the widows and actresses who knew what they wanted and what they were getting into – he’d enjoyed their company and enjoyed it well. Since the day he left Hogwarts and headed to London, he’d not been without a mistress or two, but it was now a thing of the past. As he grew closer to twenty-five, he’d realized that he was spending more and more time tending to his heritage and family and less and less in his old pursuit of decadence and pleasure, a thing he surprisingly liked. He still kept a mistress, but never more than one at a time, and he discovered he no longer felt the need to enter every broom race society had to offer or stay late at parties just to win that last hand of cards. His reputation, of course, stayed with him, but he didn’t mind that. There were certain benefits to being England’s most reprehensible rake, first of all being universally feared, but now it was time for marriage and an heir to pass his name to. He did feel a rather sharp twinge of regret – and perhaps a touch of guilt as well – over the fact it was unlikely he’d live to see his progeny well into adulthood, but what could he do? He was the only Potter alive; he had a dynastic responsibility to be fruitful and multiply. Besides, he took some comfort in knowing he’d leave some able and caring friends behind, gentlemen who’d see to it that his son was brought up with the love and honour every Potter deserved. Furthermore, Marlene would coddle the boy, and his mother might spoil him… James actually smiled a bit as he thought of his large and often boisterous found family. His heir wouldn’t need a father to be well loved.
James downed another sip of scotch and straightened his shoulders, pushing such unpleasant ruminations from his mind. He needed to focus on the matter at hand, namely the pursuit of a wife. Being a discerning and somewhat organized man, he’d made a mental list of requirements for the position.
First, she ought to be reasonably attractive. She needn’t be a raving beauty, although that would be nice, but if he was going to have to bed her, he figured a bit of attraction ought to make the job more pleasant.
Second, she couldn’t be stupid. This, James mused, might be the most difficult of his requirements to fill, for he wasn’t universally impressed by the mental prowess of London debutantes. The last time he’d made the mistake of engaging a young chit fresh out of Hogwarts in conversation, she’d been unable to discuss anything other than food (she had a plate of strawberries in her hand at the time) and the weather, and she hadn’t even gotten that right.
Third – and this was the most important – she couldn’t be anyone with whom he might actually fall in love, under no circumstances would this rule be broken. He wasn’t a complete cynic; he knew that true love existed, anyone who’d ever been in the same room as his parents knew it, but love was a complication he wished to avoid. He had no desire for his life to be visited by that particular miracle, and since James was used to getting what he wanted he had no doubt he would find an attractive, intelligent woman to trap in an affectionate but loveless marriage.
“For Merlin’s beard, James, what has you frowning so? Not that olive. I saw it clearly and it didn’t even touch you,” Sirius said to break him out of his reverie, and James blinked a few times before responding with a vague nothing.
He hadn’t of course, shared his thoughts with anyone else, even his best friend. It wasn’t the sort of thing one wanted to advertise, and furthermore, no one else could understand the depth of the bond he’d felt with his father. Fleamont had been everything to him; he’d always aspired to be as great a man as he was, but to think he might be more seemed conceited in the extreme.
“Spit it out,” Sirius insisted. “I won’t offer a Knut for your thoughts since I know they can’t possibly be worth that much, but what are you thinking about’”
“Who is considered the Incomparable of this season?” he asked, suddenly sitting up, determined to force his attention on the serious business of choosing a bride.
“Lily Evans,” replied Remus, who was much more informed since he already had a wife. “Red hair, green eyes, she’s a Muggleborn but she’s been way above the average in Potions and Transfiguration at Hogwarts.”
“Good,” James said, letting his glass of scotch hit the table with a thunk. “Then I’ll marry her.”
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for the fanfic ask meme: B, F, H, I, M, Q, R, S, T, U & V!!! c:
OH BOY <3
B: Any of your stories inspired by personal experience?
welllll the everyday miscellaneous was um 99% projecting. i was working thru some mental stuff n i really needed an outlet and bill tench was right there!
F: Care to share a favorite hurt/comfort fic?
does this mean one of my own or one i like. either way ill drop some reccs from both pools.
while im still reading @swearingcactus 's pick me up and memory downs, the hurt/comfort is so so tasty and i love love how the twist is sprinkled into the earlier chapters and its all starting to unfold.
apart from that, @civilization-illstayrighthere 's funny you should ask makes me want to BAWL. if u like the hurt/comfort of past inputs and a love thats a few shades from poisonous, this is the one for u.
as for my own, the your heart is on my sleeve series is just h/c after h/c with some major character death sprinkled in :P
H: How would you describe your style?
i write like im writing for an audiobook. i focus on how sentences would sound rolling off someones tongue, how theyd hit physically once said out loud, etc, because its one of the best ways to figure out how awkward a sentence might sound otherwise.
I: Do you have a guilty pleasure in fic (reading or writing)?
sexual tension and homoerotic teasing but not full blown smut. love it when a character touches another person in some way that gets them flustered and red and then the author leaves it at that :3 so fucking delicious.
M: Got any premises on the back burner that you’d care to share?
one im working on rn has vance infected with a virus that slowly starts raising his internal body temperature degree by degree before he overheats and the virus resets to repeat the cycle :] he has to get it out before it reaches his brain
Q: Do you have any discarded scenes/storylines/projects?
blinks wetly. i dont wanna talk about it theres a whole sideblog dedicated to one of them. but also i had this fic idea where vance gets caught by militech and its this whole thing...theres also a handful of scenes i wrote where kerry goes to vance's apartment in the glen n discovers (to his horror) how many jackets his boyfriend actually has
R: Are there any writers (fanfic or otherwise) you consider an influence?
samantha downing, suzanne collins, austin chant, helena fox, and tj klune are my biggest influences :3 fanfic wise, it would be the two i mentioned above and @glitchinginthegarden and you!! you august you!!!
S: Any fandom tropes you can’t resist?
when two characters r bitter divorced exes but theyre still madly in love with each other and HATEEE the fact that they are. i want them to hatefuck and be pissed off about it
T: Any fandom tropes you can’t stand?
please. lord god. stop woobifying villains. i would like them to retain the nuance they have in canon thank u
U: A pairing you might like to write for, but haven’t tried yet.
SILVERDYNE. i want 2 write for them so bad but i dont know what premise would be interesting to me. im rotating them certainly but nothing's come of it so far
V: A secondary (or underrated) character you want to see more of in fic?
where is rogue my friend the love of my life rogue amendiares
#asks#thank u for the deluge!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1#i hope yall dont mind the tags U_U...#edit i forgot to fucking answer the first one help me.
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A romione fic set in the 6th year. Please excuse if it's cringe. It's my first fic. Ever.
2.5k words.
Hope.
The end of February had arrived, for all the students at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The vast hallways of the enormous castle, which many students called home, possessed a serene silence. The cause of this silence which was quite rare, you may say, was because it was a weekend. The busy hallways were quiet this weekend as the end of the year had dawned upon. Which meant that examinations were around the corner, due to which many pupils could be seen studying, some enjoying themselves on a pleasant winter’s morning on the brightly lit grounds, or some just twittering here and there.
One of these many students was Ron Weasley. While most of the students were quite pleased with the tranquil weather, a dark cloud of despair hung over the young man’s head. He was feeling many different emotions at once as he had just broken up with his girlfriend – Lavender Brown. He didn’t know what to feel. In some ways he felt relieved like hell for cutting ties of with her. In some ways he felt bad for her too, even if he didn’t like her too much, Lavender must’ve fallen hard for him. He also was in a state of confusion with his relationship with Hermione Granger, his best friend and the girl he was in love with.
He tried to deny himself a million times and to convince himself that these feelings of jealousy, disappointment and bliss were completely brotherly feelings towards Hermione, but came on a conclusion with solid proof that he couldn’t choose who he fell in love with. But he didn’t want to be in love with her, it would screw their friendship. So, in order to fall out of love with her, he began dating Lavender Brown. To honestly say, in the beginning Ron did feel quite nice that someone liked him, wanted him for who he was. But no matter how hard he tried; he couldn’t fall out of love with her. How could he? Ron thought with a smile. He now reached the portrait hole, the entrance to the Gryffindor common room, where the fat lady was waiting for him to speak out the password.
“Tapeworm” Ron replied gloomily entering the common room, which was occupied by a few students. He saw his best friend Hermione sitting on the couch in front of the blazing fire. The light from the fire reflected onto her hair at the perfect angle, making her looking more beautiful than ever. He could stare at her for an eternity, Ron thought. He wanted to join her but was too star struck to do so. As if reading his thoughts, Hermione looked up from the book she was currently reading and said, “Hi Ron. Would you like to join me?”, she said in a voice Ron could only describe as angelic. “H-hello ‘Mione” he replied stuttering, breaking out of his daze. He mentally kicked himself. “I’ll join you as long as we’re not talking about homework” he replied taking a seat beside her. She chuckled replying “No Ron this is just some research I’m doing for the horcruxes.” “Oh, ok.” “Ron, I heard about your break-up with Lavender. I-are you okay? I thought, you know, you could use someone to just talk to or something?” she said. “Oh, no actually. It has been coming now for quite some time now I reckon. We were sort of breaking apart or something, dunno. “He replied to her earlier asked question. “Mmm-hhh. Would you like a chocolate frog? I have quite a few from our last Hogsmeade trip, thought you could use all the cheering you can get.” “Chocolate frogs? Are you that random all the time?”
“Ha-ha very funny Ron. But if you would not rather, have it, I always have room for another frog too….”
“No, I wouldn’t.” Ron said snatching it from her, fairly remembering being asked the same question, under different circumstances of course, the previous year. He wanted to desperately confess to her that he loved her and that Lavender was, is and never will be anything to him. He wanted to tell her that he wanted to tear Vicky’s limbs for even thinking about her that way. He wanted to admit her that he wanted to snog her senseless as she was looking beautiful as the light from the flames touched her face lightly. Her proposing eyes were as dark as the darkest bark of any tree present. They were hypnotizing him. Her white skin looked like the fresh winter’s snow, which Ron ached to touch. His eyes then moved to her lips. He might have kissed her right then and there, if it wasn’t for Harry, who know entered through the portrait hole.
He silently cursed Harry for breaking his self-confidence which had just formed under not-so lucky conditions. He could have kissed her for Merlin’s sake! Now he even forgot how to talk to her. Oh, thank you very much Harry for breaking the moment between me and my possible future wife. Thank you, Harry…
A week had passed since that fateful evening in the common room. Now that he and Hermione were friends again, he wanted to spend most of his time with her. He even made homework excuses, if that meant he could spend a few more hours with her. It was now a day before his birthday. He was clearly quite exited, been the whole week, except the times Lavender had cornered him and sort of, threatened him but now these thoughts had completely exited his mind.
As quickly as the day started, it ended in a blur. The first of March had now arrived, bringing Ron a lot of happiness as he remembered it was his birthday today. He received a good haul this year, he reckoned. A watch from his mum and dad, which was customary for every wizard when they would turn seventeen, keeper gloves from Harry, a book named ‘Twelve Fail – Safe ways to Charm Witches’ from Fred and George, a broom polishing kit from Ginny and a jinx detector from Hermione. He ate some chocolate cauldrons, not completely sure if they for him or not. Suddenly he felt a weird feeling in his stomach, which was only accustomed when Hermione was near him. Wait, who was Hermione again? Oh yeah, his friend. Instantaneously he felt a huge surge of affection for – Romilda Vane? The next thing he remembered was a bezoar being shoved into his mouth.
He woke up after a long time, his surroundings unfamiliar to him. In front of him was a beautiful face he registered to be Hermione’s. “Er – my – nee “he croaked out. Her eyes suddenly looked tense and she screamed “Madam Pomphrey! Ron’s gained consciousness’, come fast! “
He saw vaguely Madam Pomphrey hurrying towards him and asking “How are you feeling? Are you fine or is there still any of that bezoar left? Knew should’ve not used that slicky little potion.”
Ron replied “M’ feeling fine. A little pain in the stomach but.” He made an attempt to sit up straight, but Hermione restrained him by saying – “No not now. you need rest.”
Madam Pomphrey came back with a small bottle in her hands filled with a bluish- green liquid and commanded Ron to drink it. He gurgled it down, a horrible taste bittering his mouth.
“Well call me if you need anything.” She said leaving the two alone.
“I know I hold a record of visiting the hospital wing now and then and I usually remember the incident. Enlighten me how did I just happen to end up in the hospital wing on my birthday?” asked Ron once Madam Pomphrey was out of sight. Hermione looked at him with uncertainty and after finally sighing, told him how he had ended up in the hospital wing because of Romilda Vane’s love potion. Slughorn’s poisoned mead and Harry saving him at the last minute with the help of a bezoar. “Wow, why did so much had to happen on my birthday, the least of all days.” He sighed.
“You two can’t ever stay out of trouble and lead a peaceful life ever, can you?” said Hermione with humor present in her tone.
“Peaceful? What are we, saints? And we may be going down because of trouble but you are too coming down with us.” He replied, simultaneously as a yawn broke out of him.
“I should go. It’s quite late and you need rest and I have classes tomorrow. Also, I have to complete Sprout’s essay due next week. Should I bring you all the homework while you are in the hospital wing?” she asked.
“Err no thanks for the homework part.” Hermione scowled at him lightly for this. “Please stay “he said almost pleading. He heard her talking but drowsed sleepily. He was on the brink of sleep when he heard her vaguely whisper “Good night, Ron. “And then her lips were softly placed on his for a moment and this was the exact moment he chose to fall asleep.
The next day Harry and Hermione came to visit him before they went to class. “Well, we have Herbology now, Hermione. Don’t be late or Sprout will pester me with questions. Bye Ron.” Said Harry hurrying towards the door and leaving them on their own. “Well, how are you holding up with the quidditch thing? “Asked a very concerned looking Hermione. She asked this as Madam Pomphrey had banned him from playing quidditch, Merlin even from going down to the stands to watch and support his team in the Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff game! This bitter thought had invaded his mind this morning. Except for the fact that Hermione was so close to him.
“Do you remember anything from our conversation last night, Ron? “She asked looking a bit broken. He wondered why as he replied “Yes I do remember everything except after that part where you were just leaving.”
“So, you don’t remember anything, anything at all after that?”
Ron scrunched his eyes and thought for a moment. Of course, he remembered a huge thing happened last night, but he thought he was hallucinating, or maybe even just dreaming, after all, he was on the brink of sleep. But why was she so intrigued with yesterday’s conversation? Maybe, just maybe there was a chance that whatever happened, happened for real. No, he firmly thought, to stop his hopes from rising up.
“Err no. There is one thing but I don’t know if it was a dream or reality. Don’t want to get my hopes up just to get them crushed I reckon.”
“Sometimes you just have to believe whatever happens Ron it happens for a reason.” she said. Ron chocked not sure what to reply. He felt so confused. On one hand, he was elated, to be finally kissed by her. On the other he was sad that why did she have to kiss him when he was asleep. Did she do it because she pitied him.
Not sure what to say, he replies stuttering “Y-You did i-it for r-real?” he stuttered out, with all the energy his body could supply at that time.
“Yes.” She whispered softly, turning away from him. Her cheeks filled with color and it accented them beautifully.
He couldn’t understand. Why would she, the greatest witch of her age chooses him? There were so many worthies of her, but she chooses him – A jealous prat who broke her heart and made her cry on many occasions. He hurt her and she chose him and why? He wanted to know, he wanted to know now.
“But why me Hermione,” He asked her pleading to answer. “I’m a nobody. I’m not good in studies nor in quidditch. I have nothing special about me, I hurt you Hermione, you cried because of me. Why me Hermione, why me?” he asked with dread, guilt and pain in his voice.
She looked almost angry now “you say you’re a nobody Ron but don’t you realize you’re everything to me? I was in pain because you were with her and not me!” She was almost shouting at this point. Her voice sounded painful. “I thought something was going to happen at Slughorn’s Christmas party but it didn’t because you were snogging another girl, Ron. And I tried to ignore you because I couldn’t bear to be around you knowing you liked someone else. I tried to forget those feelings but nothing, no nothing I did were powerful enough to ignore them now. She was now rambling. “And this whole year has been so stressful on me and also we were letting Harry choose between us Ron. “
“Hermione,” Ron croaked out. “I’m so s-sorry.”
“It’s Fine. Just forget last night Ron I hope we can still be friends.”
Ron almost shouted a No! Hermione spun around and asked, “What now Ron, I’m getting late for Herbology.”
Ron went up to her and circled his arms around her waist. She looked shocked. He whispered softly to her, “I’m in love with you Hermione. I have always loved you, since we were fourteen. “
And then he kissed her. He kissed her with all the passion he could find in his body. And she kissed him back. It was a grand synthesis of so many feelings built up on the course of years. Feelings of jealousy, happiness, disappointment and most importantly; love. They both had gone through so much since these past years which had sort of bonded them in a different way from others. Her lips were soft and tender. He had had a girlfriend for some time but never in all their time they shared such a tender kiss, a delicate kiss, almost fragile. Lavender was nothing, nothing compared to Hermione. After several moments or maybe more, they broke apart as the need for oxygen became highly needed. They broke apart almost reluctantly, sadly departing from their daydreaming happy place.
They did not speak for a moment and looked into each other’s eyes, as if staring into the nights sky filled with thousands of stars. And then they laughed, breaking the moment. They could have done this all this time but they instead fought! They laughed at their previous selves.
Hermione then finally had the courage to open her mouth first and said,” Well if you didn’t know already, I love you too.”
Ron smiled slightly and asked, “So, where does that keep us?”
“Oh, I don’t know. “She replied with a flirteaseous tone. “I usually don’t go kissing every boy I find around, do I?”
Ron shivered and replied “Hermione, you’re honestly the most wonderful person I’ve ever met. I have loved you since my fourth year and I would love it if you would be my-my”
“Girlfriend?” Hermione said finishing for him.
“Yes,” Ron replied, “Yes I would like it very much.”
And then they kissed and talked and kissed and talked, until Harry came in and said-
“Finally! Took you long enough!”
And then all three of them laughed.
Even if there was a war going on, and even if people were dying every day, he would always have the people he loved beside him. They would fight for each other, to give the future hope, that everything they ever needed was right beside them. And even if we die in the war, we do not do it in vain, we do it for the people we love to have a better future, he thought taking a last glance at Hermione before she was carried away by Harry for their potions lesson. There were many things to die for and for him, she was the one for whom he was willing to die for. He learned that there are many things to be happy for. These thoughts filled him with hope, which was everlasting.
#harry potter#half -blood prince#ron weasley#hermione granger#romantic#romione#jk rowling#bookverse#canon divergence#au#fanfiction
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Blythe I have many questions istg because I love this fic, it’s one of my favourites and we’re only two chapters in 😭
1. Is El a Mage?
2. Do the rest of the party members (I mean Mike, Lucas, Dustin and Max) have the attributes of their DnD positions; for example, Lucas is a ranger which I believe has a skill for archery, and the house Sinclair are full of great archers!
3. Now this is one I don’t see often, but is there gonna be Will and Holly meetings because whenever I read a fic where Will looks after Holly with Mike or something, it’s always so funny and sweet!
4. What are the actual ages of the characters? I might have missed it but I don’t remember Mike having an age before he said “ten years later” when he went back within his memories
5. How do you PLAN your stories? Because they are all so good and I just wonder how it works behind the screens!
6. Will we see Max in the next few chapters?
7. Is being a scholar something Mike still wants to accomplish? Will that be apart of his internal conflict?
8. THIS IS THE LAST ONE (I think, I’m sorry I’m just so invested 😭) with the visions you describe in the story, how are they, like, done? Is it like, glazed eyes or is it a little seizure (hope that isn’t an offensive term to call it 😅) and do they only come across certain people such as Clerics, kings, heirs etc?
i had to pull out my laptop to answer this one, and believe me, i am SO excited to do so.
1.el is a mage!! getting a bit deep into lore bits here, el wound up on hopper's doorstep when she was around five, and was already showing signs of magic posession (in this world, magic is an inherited trait; some are born with it, some aren't, some families have higher potential of magic passing on while others almost never see it). hopper, interestingly enough, comes from a noble family sworn to house henderson. his family has a strong history of becoming learned healers and dabbling in that sort of magic, and growing up in this environment allowed him to pass on his knowledge to el, and, as we will see in will chapters to come, will as well. so yeah, the wonder twins have cool powers!!
2. yeah, they do! while lucas is a knight and can swing a sword pretty well, he always carries around a bow with him, too. the sinclairs are a house known for their wisdom in battle strategy and they often end up training the best soldiers in the kingdom, so lucas is a great example of these house sinclair traits. he can handle pretty much anything that comes his way with a clear head, unlike dustin, as we will see in chapter two when they encounter the cursecaster. dustin definitely has bard like traits; he would be the one to tell stories and sing songs on a long expedition like the one they are on now. max, on the other hand, may have some traits of her dnd character (i don't even know if zoomer is a real class but whatever). max is the commander of the king's guard, basically the big boss of all of the knights of hawks nest, and she is known as 'the sun's knight.' i guess she is pretty fast on horseback, so... i suppose she can be considered similar to her dnd counterpart!
3. will and holly will certainly have a meeting when he is still disguised. mike eventually grows smitten with the cleric, and introduces him formally to his family, so there will be a will and holly meeting at one point!
4. in the current timeline, the characters are all 20. when mike was in his flashback sequence, they were was 10; will has been missing for 10 years. nancy is 13 in the flashbacks, and 23 now, same with jonathan. mike became a knight when he was 15, and has been a knight for 5 years when the story picks up!
5. when it comes to planning, i'm not the best actually?? i kind of just think up the ideas in my head and ... remember them. like, this is my first time truly writing any of this down, because honestly it mostly just exists in my brain lol. that's all there is to it.
6. yes!! max makes an appearance at the very end of the upcoming chapter 2 when our cast finally returns to king's crest. she has a very important and vital role in the story.
7. YES!!! mike's dream since he was little was to be a scholar, and we saw that get tragically ripped away from him in chapter one, and in chapter two, we see an event happen that truly seals the deal. he had no desire to be a lord, and he certainly had no desire to be a knight; however, being from house wheeler, when he has become loyal to someone, it is difficult for him to turn away from those oaths/vows, a main issue for his character coming up in the future chapters.
8. visions are a tricky thing to describe when you are outside of the pov of the character experiencing them. in the prologue, with wilmot the wise, we see him get visited by ienta herself to provide him with the prophecy we see later on. i'd imagine that to the outside viewer, wilmot would simply be staring off into space with glazed eyes, and any sort of interruption or shaking would not be enough to wake him. will experiences visions the same way.
this was SOOOOO much fun. as you know, i love answering questions, so this really made my day. sorry if i wrote to much lol. thank you for taking the time to do this. :3
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Monster Ball (Indruck)
Prompt for the 25th was: Drag Ball. This fic is NSFW. It’s set in my Rockstar AU but can be read as a standalone
Every Halloween since he hit high school, Duck has spent the night at home giving out candy. It’s dorky, but it always makes him feel like a part of his neighborhood. He’s glad his apartment–his former apartment, since Indrid is already talking about moving him into his Atlanta house–was in a complex with lots of families so there was a steady stream of trick or treaters. He’d put on a scary movie marathon, light his jack o lantern, and spend the night doling out candy. All in all, very chill.
That’s not the word he’d use to describe his morning so far.
They were supposed to get to the venu for the Halloween Drag Ball yesterday for a set up and dress rehearsal. Instead, there was a four car pile-up on I-5 and they didn’t make it to L.A until midnight. They slept in the tour bus in front of the hall, the glow of Indrid’s name in huge letters peeking through the blinds.
When the alarm went off at 5:30, Indrid rolled over in bed, eyes still muddy with sleep, and smiled at him.
“Ah, the luxurious life of a rockstar”
That was the last thing he said to him all day. His boyfriend has been running cues, going through the set lists, and doing sound checks, while Duck has been helping the rest of the crew with equipment set-up and safety checks. The ball starts at eight pm, with Indrid going on at ten. At five, he blows Duck a kiss and heads back to begin getting his make-up on.
As Duck is chatting with the venue staff about their costumes (all variations on “terrifying ghosts”) when his pocket buzzes.
Sugar: My dressing room, 6.
Duck: I’ll be there.
“Duck, could you help me out a sec?” Aubrey pokes her head out from her dressing room.
“Sure thing, Lady Flame.” He steps in through the door and clamps a hand over his mouth.
“Yes, ha ha, I know it’s funny.” Aubrey waves her free arm at the sleeve of her white jacket, which has snagged on her up-do and trapped her other arm above her head, “I’m so used to dealing with my usual look, not this thing.”
“This thing” is her Bride of Frankenstein hair, combed and teased to mimic Elsa Lancaster’s iconic style. Duck discovers one the studs of her jack caught in a curl and carefully detaches it. Aubrey thanks him, slipping into the other side of the jacket just as little claws click across the floor.
“Holy fuck, when did you dye Dr. Harris Bonkers orange?”
“This morning.” Aubrey scoops her giant rabbit into her arms, “don’t worry, I found some animal safe hare dye.”
Duck snickers and Aubrey shoots finger guns his way.
“What are you going as tonight?”
“Aw fuck, I was gonna run out and get somethin’ this morning but because of the whole delay there wasn’t time.”
“Jake could do your make-up. I’m pretty sure he’s painting whiskers on Leo just so he won’t look out of place.”
“Nah, I’m good. He’s gotta get everyone else ready to go, so I’ll think of something. You all good on set up and sound?”
“Yep! Assuming no one eats my mic cable right before I go on.” She gives the rabbit a pointed look. He gives a blank one in return.
“Okay, just holler if you need any more help.” Duck shows himself out, triple checks some equipment while he counts down the minutes until six.
When he uses their secret knock, Indrid purrs, “Come in.”
His boyfriend is in his pink and yellow robe, not a trace of costume in sight.
“If you’re runnin behind I can come back-”
“I’m not behind in the slightest.” Indrid slips past him, locking the door, “I set aside more time to get ready than it technically takes. Partially because I knew I’d need a bit of quiet before the excitement. And” he picks up a large, black garment box, “because I wanted to give you this without being rushed.”
He removes the lid and holds out the box. Carefully arranged on the red tissue paper is black, leather chest harness with matching fingerless gloves, cut off jean shorts with a wolf head at the buckle and-
“Are these ears?” Duck lifts the triangles of grey fluff from the box.
“Indeed. I, ah, I made those to go with the rest. You see, we’ll have most of the classic monsters on stage with us. But we’re missing a wolfman. The instant I thought of you as him, I couldn’t get the image out of my head.”
Duck smiles, running his finger over the ears and wondering if this means there will be a werewolf song on Indrid’s next album.
“It’s a bit self-serving, as it gives me a lovely view all evening. But I also want everyone to see you for the gorgeous man you are. Of course, if you already have a costume you don’t have to wear it. I mean, you don’t have to wear it at all for any reason.”
“It’s perfect sugar.” Duck takes the box and teases, “kinda surprised there ain’t collar.”
As he leans forward to grab the lid, Indrids arm braces across his chest and he whispers in his ear, “That comes after the show.” Teeth scrape on his throat, “it’s a sight reserved for me and me alone, pet.”
Duck turns his face and kisses him. For a moment, there’s no dressing room, no show, no rockstar. There’s just his boyfriend melting against him like they’re teenagers at prom.
“You need me before then, you know where I’ll be.”
“Tempting as that is, if I am late for any part of this Joseph may never speak to me again.” Indrid smiles and walks him the few steps to the door, “I’ll see you in the wings, my love.”
—-----------------------------------------------------------
The theme for the ball is “Universal Monsters.” As Duck weaves through the crowd, he passes a half-dozen other wolfmen, a mummy in platform boots and winged eyeliner that could kill a man, and what he can only describe as a post-modern bride of frankenstein in a three foot high wig. But there are also costumes of nothing but googly-eyes and glitter, a bear dressed as a trampy Cthulhu, and someone with a sign reading “black hole” pointing at his crotch.
He can’t remember the last time he felt so at home.
Aubrey is just finishing up her act, and as Duck wrangles Dr. Harris Bonkers into his enclosure. As the applause peters out, one of the hosts returns to the stage, her long nails casting shadows across the crowd.
“And now, my uglies, the moment you’ve all been waiting for. Presenting the god of the gruesome, the king of Halloween, our very special guest: Indrid Cold!”
Fog spills across the stage, Dani appearing as a punk-rock Frankenstein, blonde hair slicked back and abs painted on her chest-piece. Jake slinks behind the drumset in the tightest clothing Duck’s ever seen him wear; a black vampire dress with a slit down the front and a black wig spilling down his shoulders. The guest guitarist is in a white wrap dress and strappy gold heels, fake asp clipped to his shoulders.
Another puff of smoke and the stage goes black so abruptly he hears the audience worrying that it was a blown fuse. Then a purple spotlight hits the dissipating mist, highlighting green, knee-high snakeskin boots, a black leather jacket, and silver hair.
You better ask my mama how to make a monster.
The bass booms in and Indrid whirls around, revealing a chest painted in green scales and silver shorts that leave nothing to the imagination. It takes until the last repeat of the chorus for the crowd to stop screaming.
“Good evening, my fellow monsters!” Indrid sets the mic into the stand at the front of the stage as a projector screen blares to life behind him, giant insects and swamp things silently stomping across it, “I’m so glad you all could join me on my favorite night of the year. With that in mind,” he grins, “let’s prowl.”
He leads with this song nearly every show. Duck will never be tired of it, of the way he purrs out the first few lines like he’s scratching at the window before smashing it open.
Going to the drive-in
Catch a double feature
Gonna do some sinnin’
While you scream for your creature
Indrid is dripping sweat and glitter by the end of the first half, voice still strong as he promises the crowd they’ll be back.
As Duck is moving the fog machines to their second position, a horned shape in a long jacket strides up the stairs.
“Uh, excuse me sir, but this is for performers only.”
The goatman smiles at him, “Do former ones count?”
“Holy fuck, you’re-”
“Vincent! I see you found Duck” Indrid appears beside him as Vincent shakes his hand, “I’d hug you but this will all smear right off. I’m so happy you made it!.”
“I couldn’t pass up the chance to see you. I was out scouting the last time you came through L.A. Thank you, by the way, for recommending the Hornets; they’ve really got something.”
“Vincent has a head for spotting the next big thing. Hence his being a Cryptid.”
“That was more about having the good luck to know you and have parents who paid for years of guitar lessons.” Vincent blinks, “agh, these contacts, I swear I don’t know how my twenty-year old self managed them night after night.”
“There were several near misses with the edge of the stage.” Joseph appears, his sole concession to a costume an FBI badge clipped to his jacket, “Indrid, you’re at thirty seconds.”
“We do have a stage manager, you know.” Indrid teases.
“And I didn’t get you this far by leaving timing to other people.”
Indrid pecks Duck on the cheek–and sneakily squeezes his ass- before moving towards the wings.
“It really is good to see you again.” Joseph rests a hand on Vincent’s arm.
“And just when are you and Barclay coming for a visit? I finally goat-proofed the guest house on the ranch.”
“After this tour. I think. You know how Indrid usually is after being on the road.”
“A hermit?”
“Exactly. That usually leaves me with some free time to travel. Although” Joseph glances at Duck with a fond expression, “I’ll worry about him less this go-around. At the very least he’ll take more breaks.”
“His texts do suggest you’re a good influence, Duck.”
“I, uh, I try to be. I’m just glad he’s happy bein’ with me.”
“I think that’s an understatement.” Joseph settles to his left while Vincent leans against the wall on his right, the final notes of “Urban Legend” ring through the room.
When the band plucks out a mid-tempo waltz, Joseph frowns, perplexed.
Slow dance with you
I want to slow dance with you
In the radioactive air,
in the rubble without care
There’s nothing I’d rather do
Than slow dance with you
Duck’s blushing so hard he swears he’s glowing pink in the dark. Indrid turns his body slightly, as if singing to the right most corner of the room. But he’s looking right at Duck, velvet-soft smile on his green-gold lips.
Joseph and Vincent look at him at the same instant with a shared smile of understanding.
“You didn’t tell me you’d finished.”
“Just this one song. I was playin around with a western waltz and ‘Drid got real into it. He said he was gonna test it out soon, but I wasn’t expecting this soon.”
“Neither was Joseph.” Vincent smirks, his yellow eyes making the expression devilish, “Sneaking a song into a set without running it by his manager? He likes you even more than he’s let on. Which, to be clear, was already a tremendous amount.”
“I’d like the record to show I’m letting this slide because I trust Duck and I trust Indrid’s creative judgment. Not because I’m getting sloppy.” The self-deprecating smile is clear in Joseph’s tone.
Vincent pats his back with fraternal affection, “Noted. What’s this song called, Duck?”
“Slow Dance at the End of the World.”
“It suits him.”
Duck studies the way Indrid sways, the look of blissful daydreaming on his face. It’s the way Duck looked in his bedroom all those years ago, singing along with Indrid on the stereo.
“Yeah, it really does.”
—-------------------------------------------------------
Energy drinks were not a big part of his diet until he started dating Indrid. When your boyfriend plays shows that routinely end past midnight and tends to be wired after a good set, you do what you can to keep up.
When he finally makes it to the hotel room, he’s glad he had that final RedBull–gross as it was–before they left the venue. Rather than changing, Indrid is still in his stage outfit, sitting on the bed and watching Duck pull off his work boots with a widening grin.
“How was the costume? It didn’t interfere with your duties, I hope.”
“It was real fun to wear and, if I’m bein’ honest, this is the least I’ve ever sweat working a gig. But that mighta just been the shorts.”
Indrid crooks his finger and Duck moves to the bed. His boyfriend pets along his belly, kissing the swell of it as he unbuttons the shorts. He pulls the denim down little by little, kissing each inch as it appears.
“Mmmmm” Indrid nips above his hipbone, “you make such a wonderful werewolf. It’s only due to my boundless professionalism that you didn’t lay waste to the entire show by distracting me.”
“Uh huh, and wanting to avoid another public indecency charge ain’t part of it?”
Indrid lifts his glasses, “Who told you about that?”
“Vincent.”
“Well, he’s not wrong. If I was carted off for performing lewd acts in front of an unsuspecting audience, there’d be no one left to deal with a certain werewolf.”
“No? Oh, ohfuck.” He grips Indrid’s shoulders as the singer teases his dick with his tongue.
“No. Because only I know how to keep such a rampaging, lustful beast under control.”
The click is all the warning he gets before a vibrator buzzes to life against his folds.
“A silver bullet.” Indrid shoves the toy inside him with a satisfied grin.
“Fuck, yeah, yeah that’ll do it.”
Indrid moves Duck’s hands from his shoulders, stands, and yanks Duck’s shorts back into place. Buttons them as he kisses him and whispers, “Don’t worry pet, I’ll be merciful before the night is through.”
The singer moves across the room, pulling things from his make-up bag, “Now, come help me get the rest of this off.”
“S-sure, be right there sugar.” The vibe is rotating between speeds, patterns, and strengths, rendering his attempts to ignore it useless. A particularly strong one catches him as he tries to move, and he leans against a nearby chair to steady himself.
Indrid sighs dramatically, “It seems you need some extra help. Thank goodness I came prepared.”
Duck closes his eyes, moaning as the toy picks up speed. His next moan is cut off by soft leather encircling his neck. He knows without even looking that it’s the collar with COLD spelled out in silver letters. What he’s not expecting is an unfamiliar, quiet click of metal. Opening his eyes, he looks down to find a black leather leash clipped to the O-ring.
Indrid tugs the leash, turning Duck to face him. His red glasses are on the dresser, so there’s nothing to disguise the affection in his eyes as he runs his fingers over Duck’s face and throat.
“I was going to scold you for being so needy that you couldn’t make it across the room without needing to get off. But how can I, when you look at me like that?”
“‘Drid, please.”
“Hush, pet, I know. I’ve wanted this all evening too. Just wait a little longer and I’ll give you what you need.” He brushes their lips together, “In fact, how about you help me expedite things?”
“Do I really gotta say I’d do anything for you right now?”
Indrid laughs and kisses him once with possessive tenderness, “A fair point. Come along.”
He leads Duck back to the bed, make-up bag in hand, and reclines against the headboard. He tugs Duck to straddle his lap, then passes him a make-up remover pad.
“Start with my face.”
Duck carefully runs the cotton over Indrid’s cheek. His hands pat and rub the skin reverently; Indrid never asks for help with his make-up, be that applying it or taking it off. Yet here he is, eyes closed and hands in his lap as Duck wipes away the monster on top of the man.
Indrid’s sprung for the good stuff, so it only takes a few minutes before his face is clean and faintly peach scented. His chest is a different matter; the green is refusing to budge. Duck’s ability to remove it is further hamstrung by the fact he’s feeling Indrid up in the process, the singer gasping whenever he grazes his nipple piercings. And all the while the bullet vibe buzzes inside him, making him shift and squirm in search of relief.
Hands grab his hips, “Careful, pet, or I may worry you’re not as tame as I thought.”
Duck growls playfully and Indrid tugs the leash.
“Oh, does my sweet werewolf think I’m joking? You’re in my lap, let me lead you about on a tether, and come when I call.”
“Yeah, but if, if you don’t fuck me soon I’m gonna go fuckin’ feral.”
“Are you now? Well, we can’t have that.” Indrid rips his shorts open and shoves them to his knees. His own, silver shorts prove harder to escape, and after several moments of fumbling he snarls and rips them down the seam.
The vibe slips free of him, only to press against his dick the instant Indrid pushes into him.
“Fucking finally.” He gasps, working the toy in swift circles.
“No fuckin kiddin’” Duck grabs his face, kissing him hungrily as his body twists and bucks in search of orgasm.
“God, I love how wet you get for me, sweet one. I love knowing you want me.”
“Always, fuck, Indrid please-”
“Don’t worry pet, I keep my promises. And I happen to know this tempo has a delicious effect.”
“Fuckfuck, yeah, fuckyes, sugar, yes, fucking fuck.” He gasps, digging his nails into Indrid’s arms. The singer kisses his neck, then lunges forward, knocking Duck onto his back.
“Let’s see if I can make you howl.” He gasps as Duck wraps himself around him, kisses him messily as he uses the leash to pull him into whatever position he pleases. Duck holds on tight, tangles his fingers in silver hair and moans at the obscene sound of Indrid driving into him
“Mine” Indrid tugs the leash and the chest harness at once, so hard Duck’s amazed they don’t snap, “mineminemine, all mine, always mine.”
“Yes, fuck yes.”
Indrid ceases his kisses long enough to raise up on his shoulders and purr, “Good.”
Duck doesn’t howl, but he comes pretty fucking close as Indrid bites just below the collar, snapping his hips until he cums with a moan.
They lay entangled for an eternity, neither interested in letting go until Duck’s eyes begin drifting closed.
“We should get to bed, sweetheart.”
“Uh huh.” He yawns as Indrid sits up; his wolf ears are on the other side of the bed, the top cover is strewn with fake fur and glitter, and the make-up from Indrid’s chest is now smeared across them both.
“Ah, perhaps a bath is in order first.”
“Yep.” Duck takes the offered hand, sighs happily as Indrid gently undoes the collar, “‘Drid? Thanks for playin’ our song tonight.”
Indrid cups his face, humming a slow dance as he does, “It was my pleasure.”
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DIRECTOR’S CUT AND COMMENTARY
OPENING NOTES:
hello hello!!! i’ve always wanted to do a commentary and for my first to be for this fic, i couldn’t even begin to say how pleased i am. over the last few months, this fic has been my baby: i don’t write plot, i don’t like fluff, but this prompt just called out to me and i knew i could finally write the comedy of my dreams.
the reason i called it supercut is explained later in the fic, so i hope you manage to catch that line! as far as characterisation goes, i think it’s a kind of dynamic you can expect from two people who have only been around each other all their lives. there’s nothing else there until you see them apart. they just gravitate towards each other. the reason i mainly shed light on san’s character through flashbacks was because i needed there to be the perfect level of “you are my past, present and future” for me. this was just what worked.
what you have received is exactly what my humour is, unfortunately, so i only pray you find this fic funny as well. written with no purpose but to make readers laugh, i hope supercut was enjoyable to read, and i can’t wait to see if anyone managed to pick out all the real scenarios from this fic considering there are so MANY, some of which i mention in this commentary.
but i have to say before i start that i do not remember writing any of this for most part, so i’ll only be talking about little easter eggs i’ve thrown in here that i only noticed during this reread. with that out of the way, let’s begin!
COMMENTARY:
And then he’s out like a light. As San slumbers next to him, Wooyoung can’t help but wonder if the human heart was meant to beat this loudly.
ok. so. what a way to start. i don’t actually have much to say about the scene generally, apart from that i only wrote this to set the tone and shed some light on what wooyoung and san’s relationship used to be and what it eventually evolves into.
Wooyoung had snorted, and the visual of Mingi walking into a glass wall right then had immediately changed the subject, and that was the end of that.
inspired by the time i ran full speed into a wall of glass and cried about it bc i got made fun of by my cousins
Wooyoung calls it objective admiration and Yeosang calls it bullshit. Jongho usually likes to stay out of their business.
very much inspired by my group of friends
“House,” Wooyoung says. “He says to bring bitches.”
“I’m already bringing you, though,” San immediately answers, and then ducks when Wooyoung throws a pillow at him. “Who’s going?”
this is. so funny to me personally. this fic became a very weird amalgamation of american and english humour and you can really tell when you start to read: there are some specific english vocabularies used later to mark the difference, but the reason i mixed things up (as far as i remember), is because as an international student abroad, your humour tends to match up in a lot of funky ways. i think it is inevitable to kind of. end up with layers. to You as a person esp with forced proximity and a change in environment but i love it because it describes my friends and i very accurately! (can u tell i wrote supercut with my loved ones in mind)
“Proudly,” San sneers, and then he chugs half the carton in one go. “Now scram. I can feel you staring. I know I’m the sexy husband but I’m not just a hot piece of ass, you know.”
this is directly taken from conversations i’ve had with friends where we roleplay as a really messy friend group. married to. each other
Wooyoung is deep into Yeosang’s bottle of Captain Morgan’s
all we did first year was drink rum <3
Yeosang has been trying to roll a joint for the better half of the last hour while his boyfriend watches helplessly and the others are playing the world’s most intense round of Monopoly Deal when the doorbell rings.
the amt of times i have been yeosang here. and also the amt of times i’ve had game nights with friends and family and it always ends with violence
“So,” Yeosang starts, “Monthly BDSM test?”
Wooyoung turns his phone back on.
idk what to tell u. my friends and i did this monthly just to mess with each other
“Your mum,” Yeosang says.
Jongho just whistles and reaches for a high five. “Nice.”
San glares. “What are you, twelve?”
“Yeah,” Yeosang nods casually, blowing a blueberry-flavoured stream of vapour at San’s face. “Twelve inches in your mum.”
very real conversation i heard my cousin say to another player when we were 12 years old and fucking with them online over a game of cod (minus the vape)
It’s so loose, kief falling from the tip, that even San just stares at him. “Yes, I know it sucks. Jongho—”
#throwback to the time my horrid rolling skills let me down at what felt like rock bottom
Wooyoung tiredly wipes a bead of sweat from his temple before bringing his hand to wipe away the juice all over his mouth. He’s made a mess, he thinks, eyeing the green stickiness all over his palm. His brother’s going to tease him all over again.
this is nothing more than what used to be routine for me: my uncle had a car and he would usually take all of us to the park and then to the harbour where we’d get slushies and popsicles while we watched the sunset…!
San babbling next to him about the newest Digimon game his sister has gifted
this was actually a very common occurrence in my household growing up, though i do have to confess it was mostly about pokémon! we were little nerds on picnics with our gameboys out <3
“I bet you liked it.”
The silence is deafening.
“What’s wrong with you?” Jongho asks gently. “I genuinely want to know.”
i was jongho in this scene
“Don’t you make playlists all the time?”
part of the reason why this prompt called out to me is that the main arc is making playlists — something i do constantly all the time because it’s a big love language of mine. it just felt a little funny, picking apart my whole life, only to end up with this fic. but i think that’s why this one will always mean so much!
Glimmering smiles over the edges of wine. Hushed commentaries about the relevance of Gossip Girl in today’s climate and frozen pizza.
Things inevitably go back to normal as things always do.
there’s nothing for me to comment on i just really like this bit
They’ve known each other for years—months weeks days hours minutes seconds—and Wooyoung doesn’t know how to feel about the fact that San has conveniently wiped their history away, leaving nothing but a blank slate.
the reason i highlighted this was because i needed it to be emphasised just How long they have known each other like how many seconds in those years have they spent together and with each other. a little crazy
San is humming along to the opening notes of Mr. Brightside
have u lived in england if u haven’t sung this on every night out actually
“I’ve always wanted to kiss someone to this song,” he blurts.
my best friend and i had a very serious discussion about him wanting to do this and i’m glad to update everyone with news that he has succeeded thumbs up emoji
“This is going to sound awful,” Jongho finally says, laughing under his breath as he leans back in his seat, a distant look on his face. “But probably when I realised I’d let him roll shitty joints for me forever.”
this is 100% real one of my friends said this to my face
“Put that camera away!” Wooyoung yells, “What are you waiting for?”
this seems much. bigger than it actually is. but this is taken from the time i went on a trip around uk and did a lot of hiking with my friends. we were setting off fireworks to celebrate the new year, and one of my friends who’s a photographer wouldn’t come set them off because he was too busy taking pictures of us!
“On God, man.”
“Just stop talking.”
“Anyway, when is our train tonight?”
“Oh, it’s—”
this entire phone call. i was asleep, hungover and also sick to boot, and my cousin who’s about 8 hours ahead had called me without realising i was majorly unwell. it went exactly like this, only for him to ask me where his girlfriend was. of course, i hung up on him without further response.
Tonight, every single one of them was in Leeds for the weekend—they got an Airbnb, they stole their host’s rolling paper while arguing that there shouldn’t have been rolling paper in the first place, and then they cracked the bottles out once they started getting ready, long-winded compilations of Max Verstappen and Charles LeClerc playing in the background, courtesy of Jung Yunho’s current Formula 1 phase.
those who have my twitter will know what this is about. but basically. me and moot were in london bc she was visiting me and we literally ran out of rolling paper on the second day in the middle of her getting me into f1. we checked all over the place and what do u know. the paper is right there. it should not have been there but thank u olga. if u are seeing this that is why u have a new set of rolling papers in ur drawer i felt really bad and wanted to get a new one for u
Wooyoung just lets out a breathless laugh before he promptly turns around, letting San settle behind him. Dizzee Rascal blares from the speakers, the familiar beat thundering through his veins.
the song is dance wiv me btw this is one of the three songs my friends and i Must play during pres before we go out
“Go piss, girl,” comes Yeosang’s voice.
no comment i just think this is so funny
Wooyoung knows one thing: he can’t make this shit up anymore.
also no comment but <3 this is tian’s line <3 thank u for the feedback and support i luv u so much
jongho: fuck mondays…… i mean its just another day to me but for the school students out there, fuck mondays……
ANOTHER REAL CONVO nier. never change. i love you
When Wooyoung is sixteen, pants around his ankles while he takes the biggest shit of his life to Eminem’s Ass Like That, his girlfriend dumps him.
umm. also real. i was literally mid shit when the guy i was seeing ended things over text and all i said was “ok cool be well king 🙏”
San is already watching him, hand raised to bring his beer to his mouth. There’s a soft smile playing on his lips, gaze terribly warm and tender. Slow and unbothered. Somehow, they always find each other. The music disappears until it’s just the two of them. You’re my best friend. I’m living. Young-ah. San is looking at him like he knows something Wooyoung doesn’t again. Does that taste good? You’re my forever. What are you waiting for? San takes a step, then two, and then he’s walking over. Young-ah, Young-ah, Young-ah. You’re my forever, San’s voice echoes.
this entire paragraph. it means so much to me. i think my style has changed so much since the first fic i had ever written for ateez, and i would like to think that all the experiences i’ve had here, with everyone around me, i have grown. as a writer and as a person. to be honest, i think i spoiled myself with this fic and i can never go back to writing dirty things like i used to. i think this is the kind of writing i am meant to produce.
“I think I’m in love with you.”
“Oh,” Wooyoung breathes. He nods once, twice. “Okay. I love you too.”
okay. so. this. i couldn’t make them get together in a flashy, manic way. it needed to feel natural, and what i felt was that these two knew it was the right time, that it is finally time to take the next step. because it makes sense and because it is as natural as breathing. and so it is. like that.
Their walk home isn’t rushed as Wooyoung expects. They take the ten minutes and walk around aimlessly in circles until it’s been at least an hour of San telling Wooyoung what his day has been like until they reach their place.
THIS PART!!!!! again, back to it being natural. it is just another day for them, all things considered, so it just makes sense to keep going about life as they always do. they’ll figure it out together.
The bell dings once they’ve reached their floor, and instead of stepping out of the elevator, San keeps on kissing Wooyoung like he knows he will be able to do it again.
you don’t know. how obsessed i am with this line. that san finally knows he can kiss wooyoung. that he can keep doing it forever. or as long as wooyoung wants because he’s been waiting for so long. waiting for wooyoung to catch up.
He shakes when San presses a finger inside him and he laughs when San says I love you against his belly.
they are just so!!!! elated!!!!! and giddy!!!!!!!!!!!
They talk about anything and everything and Wooyoung cries himself laughing when San tells him that after the seduction attempt, San had jacked himself off and cried because he had felt so guilty about defiling the memory of his best friend in his head.
I’M SORRY LIKE. THE VISUAL WAS TOO FUNNY NOT TO WRITE
Watches San moan Wooyoung’s name until Wooyoung’s hips are stuttering on every gasp. Watches as San falls in love with him a million times in a matter of seconds.
just another line that i Especially love <3
as for the sex scene, i actually didn’t want to write it at first. i originally only had two little paragraphs dedicated to the scene because i had wanted to step away from smut and see things without a nsfw lens. but then they started acting up. i had to write Something even if it was miniscule and not at all my style <3
“I was born by C-section so I’m a gold star gay,” Yeosang says smoothly, not even missing a beat. “No vaginas on my record.”
THIS IS REAL I PROMISE we now refer to the guy who said this to my best friend as “c-section gay”
“You absolute bellend,” Wooyoung says, shooting Yeosang a venomous glare.
“You’re already learning!”
only because my two favourite aggressively english words to use are “cunt” and “bellend”
wooyoung: why do my feet always feel so warm when i wake up
yeosang: we don’t want to hear abt ur feet wooyoung
san: @wooyoung sorry ill stop
taken from the time nier admitted to liking my feet
“Wait, did you buy another Polo pack again? I can’t fucking taste anything, mate.”
my polo addiction… 🕊️💔
Just as he predicts, Yeosang and Jongho get back together. Taylor Swift and Joe Alwyn on the other hand, he figures, is not for him to decide.
this entire scene is dedicated to my best friend who cried about them breaking up. update: she is keeping up to date with the matty healy dating rumours, and i have to say, i don’t think she is pleased.
San surprises him with a tub of ice cream and a Spotify playlist, sitting on a bench and talking for what seems like hours until they finally get up and start making their way back.
OK. THIS BIT. i intentionally made it sound like a throwaway line but it is not. it’s overshadowed by the Very dirty sex implied right after, but this is the first time san ever makes a playlist. and he intentionally made it for wooyoung who is his sole audience. it just felt fitting to end with a playlist since it begins with a playlist. full circle, lads.
CLOSING NOTES:
PHEW. what a ride. i didn’t realise i had so much to say in so little, but i’m thankful. i hope everyone who reads this enjoys it as much as i enjoyed writing it. i may not remember much, but the few memories i have are all good.
this fic made me want to Write again after years of staying away from plot. i think i’m one step closer to figuring myself out. additionally, thank you to all of my friends who took the time out of their day to encourage me to write this, i cannot thank you enough. i can’t wait to write another fic for you soon.
see you when the next one comes out, my loves! <3
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6. I remember reading one of your stories from the Squad Six is Jerks collection, something about Renji doodling bunnies Rukia style. I distinctly remember the soulbearing speech he wanted to say to Rukia about trying a romantic relationship- how he wanted to hold her hand and tell her that she's beautiful instead of just thinking it in his head, and if she didn't love him back, that would be okay, but he just wanted to tell her once in his life that he loved her... It was such a simple, sweet, and deeply heartfelt passage, it just floored me. You've written so many masterpieces but I remember reading it countless times because it moved me so much.
12. Honestly, I think I've re-read most if not all of your stories at least once💛 Have I pretty much memorised Call Me Back When The War Is Over? Perhaps?! You have a way of describing feelings so beautifully. My heart has definitely ached reading the Renruki pining and turmoil. I absolutely LOVE the banter and interactions between your characters! While I've definitely shed some tears reading your fics, your stories put huge smiles on my face and sometimes leave me cackling 🤣 thanks for your time and efforts, we are so blessed to have your stories to read!
(Fanfic Asks For the Asker)
6. Something I remember vividly from reading one of your fics
Oh, I love that one, too! It's one of the only things I have ever managed to write under 1k words. From time to time, I have Renji hold back from saying something heartfelt to Rukia or kissing her (too much) because he's afraid of too many feelings falling out of him and that, right there, is what it would look like. That guy. You can't take him anywhere.
12. A fic of yours that i've re-read
Waaaah! 😭 That's so sweet! The thing I really, really like about Renruki in their slow-burn era (where 90% of my fanfic takes place) is that there is this degree of pining and yearning, but they are together again, cracking wise and making entrances and giving Kira migraines, and it's so much better than being apart that it's a good ache. It's a love that'll keep. Anyway, I like writing funny stuff and while I make an occasional foray into angsty territory, I'm more interested in telling happy stories, and I love to hear it when people say my stories make them happy, too. 💕
#thank you so much!!#all of these are so sweet my readers are the best#fanfic asks for the asker#please indulge me if i take my time to answer them i am ~savoring~#my fanfic
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God, it's been a whirlwind of a week. (And a whirlwind of a fic series.) Sorry for getting this so late to you, I've really been taking my time with this, practically soaking in the story. I think that these last two chapters deserve that. (Not that the others didn't deserve it. But I got so swept up in all the emotions. I wanted to and knew I should sit with this and fully go through.)
I can't believe we made it this far. I feel somewhat sad that we're so close to the end (I absolutely have no idea how I'll be when we get to the final chapter), but I'm glad to have been here when this series was coming out by the chapter. I said it in the tags of my reblog, but this series is gonna stay with me forever. I'm glad this is happening. Thanks for writing, as always.
We come back to the aftermath of that day. Marc drank, which isn't great. What isn't great, also (honestly it might as well be worse), is the fact that he thinks he "takes" from the Reader, and that he thinks to things
1. That he "bothers" them
2. That he "doesn't deserve" to do so.
I love how well written this is, but hot damn do I feel stomach acid bubbling in my stomach from the way this is set up. This idea of "I don't deserve *insert person /thing here*, it's only a matter of time before I cause them to leave/it to end" is relatable. For me, it's only in the platonic/friendship sense. No matter what though, it's awful to see from the other side.
I think you knew what you were doing when you started this off with us seeing Marc first. You're still keeping us on the edge of our seats. Do I appreciate it? Yes and no. From a writing standpoint, it's brilliant, I love it. But as a reader, I'm absolutely upset because I don't know how long it'll be until we get to see the Reader's side of things.
Oh my god there are texts also. Why am I surprised? WAIT A MINUTE WHEN DID THAT PICTURE HAPPEN?? HUH?? This whole thing is strange, and I'm confused and also in pain. This is so painful. I'm glad he sent that text. But now it seems to be worse. "There's nothing to fix." is a loaded sentence. Because the Reader knows what they mean. But does Marc? Is the meaning displayed properly?
Now we have the Reader's pov, and their feelings and thoughts. We can't explore them too much before there are texts from Steven ( :,) was me when I saw he texted) I have a feeling, though, that this will get worse before getting better.
Anyway. Now there's a short call with Steven. You wrote that his voice was like a balm, and I can't help but think that's the perfect way to describe his voice at that moment.
When he does come to Tales Untold, it feels almost suspenseful, if that makes sense. Like Steven, I thought there was gonna be some sort of mess in the apartment.
Anyway, what we learn about the Reader's experience is a lot. But their mindset of "waiting until they could get it together" before seeing him again, at least to me, makes sense. I would've done that. (As a side note, I like how much this chapter has. It's good. I enjoy it very much.)
I wasn't expecting the Reader to meet Jake yet (I thought it would happen a little later on but 🤷♀️), but I enjoy how introduced him at this moment. I also loved the lines:
"You swallow, and Jake wonders what you see now.
You see the other two so clearly, but Jake lives in the shadows. You have no idea how hard he’d been rooting for you, how badly he wanted Marc to not fuck up."
I mean, god, isn't that the truth? That we never know what everyone is thinking? Anyway, this first interaction is tense, it feels like a weight pushing down. (And I found it almost funny that you wrote "So what?” Jake asks, his shoulders tense") Honestly, it feels like that after the Reader confides in Jake about how happy they were after the date.
Reading what you wrote for Jake, when the Reader looks at him...that line tore me in half, I felt like a piece of gum that just got spit out. "He's not meant to be known, that's not his role." That line will haunt me after this series ends, and when I read more Moon Knight fics. You always do this, you always write certain lines that mess with me in the best of ways. I'm sure somewhere, I have a little list of them.
Anyway, the way this interaction changes is really good. I don't feel tense anymore. I feel a sort of...I'm not sure what word there is to describe the way I feel. It's almost warm, but not fuzzy. Maybe admiration? But that seems too weak. Anyway, whatever it is, I feel it in the moment where the Reader asks how they can stop Marc from blaming himself for this. Something I actually thought would happen, did happen: the Reader saying how it was nice to meet Jake. Maybe it's because I've been reading your work for a while, or because by this point, I have a grip on who the Reader is as a person. But I'm glad it happened.
This is such a good chapter. I don't think I'll ever come across something like this. And yeah, maybe that's the point of writing, but at the same time....no one could write this like you. If this were someone else's idea....I don't know how it would've worked out.
Steven and the Reader's conversation about tea (and the subsequent background we get about it) is a nice reprieve from the situation. I don't know how strange it'll sound, but I like how you didn't make the Reader realize about the way Marc showing how he loves and cares until now. I think that's my favorite detail for this chapter.
And I love how Steven told the Reader that he and Jake thought the baseball game was a date. Absolutely loved this. And the little exchange about missing each other, even if it was just for a day....man I feel pain at 12:59 at night. I'm glad Steven went over there, and there was some sort of interaction between him and the Reader, as well as Jake and the Reader. It settles and soothes something inside me as I read on.
ALSO THE READER FINDING THE LITTLE AURA OF PEACE AND HAPPINESS MARC WANTED THEM TO FIND. UGHHHH My heart.
Now we have the POV of Steven. And I just. Oh man I like this. You were right, we are having stuff with Elias. It was just put on the back burner a little, you let it stew and now you've peaked my interest once again, making me wonder what you're cooking. (I have no idea why I'm using a cooking metaphor. Maybe because it's late.) Getting Steven to ask why Elias didn't get their mom help is actually what I was hoping for, though I don't know why. Some little voice in my head, way back when this series was starting, had put that idea out in the open and it just stuck.
Anyway back to the plot. The interaction between Steven and Elias is new (I believe.), but I like seeing this. Yet I'm also scrolling line by line out of fear for what's gonna go down. (In the best way possible, I promise.) The anxiety is there, I can practically taste it. This conversation needs to be had, and I'm glad it's happening. It's playing out in my head, like a scene from a show or movie, raw and real. Because there isn't an excuse for letting your partner abuse your kid, but as my mom put for my father, how he was "different before" I was born. But that's the thing. Change isn't always for the better, sometimes it can't be undone. This is one of those cases
Gotta say, this part of the chapter hurts alot more. Maybe it's because it resonates with me more. Nevertheless, I'm glad I get to read it.
Getting to see the aura of the house (from the Reader's pov) is so interesting to me. Because so far, we've seen Marc's perspective on it. But the way you've worded it is so interesting to me. Anyway, I'm worried about this interaction between the Reader and Marc, because I know there's gonna be some tough stuff talked about, and that the Reader said they wouldn't go in that house. But here they are.
And that's exactly what he brings up. Again, I love the communication between them. The Reader isn't forcing him to talk, they quite literally say "You can tell me no [..] I'll leave." This interaction is gentle, it has to be. If it were approached in any other way, I don't think things would go well.
The description of "the shame that sits on Marc's shoulders like a well loved scarf tightening around his throat" is such a vividly upsetting description. Stop being so good at this. (Please don't, I love how unique these descriptions are, and how the little movie that's in my head as I read gets to be detailed and well-written thanks to you.)
Like the Reader, I didn't expect Marc to realize this quickly what they're trying to say. But at least they're prepared. (Again with the description of how "Something jagged lodges itself between your ribs. It scrapes at your sternum, digs into your lungs." Good gravy, that is so gut-wrenching and real.) This conversation has turned to an upsetting swirl of emotions. But the Reader gets to explain. I was not, however, ready to learn that what the Reader saw was when his brother died. Holy shit.
I wish you could see the way this is playing out in my head. Maybe you saw it as you wrote this chapter. But I wish you could see it right now, as I read, and think alongside the little movie in my head. Words can't properly describe how I feel at the moment.
So I'll talk about when my feelings are describable again. I like that they're having dinner together. We get the scent descriptions back. They're one of my favorite characteristics of your writing. I won't tell you what fic I'm reminded of as I read a little part of this, but know there's a moment once they get back to the Reader's apartment that reminds me of one of your previous fics, that I go back to a bit. I like that, that (to me at least) there are pieces of you and your previous fics that leak through, just enough to be noticed.
The Reader's telling Marc about how they met Jake. I like the conversation they have here, and learning that the Reader likes moon phases and stars. That's ironic. Anyway, I like the reassurance when he says "I'm still sorry." Because reading "It's still not your fault." Just did something to me.
See now the thing is. I'm fucking sweating, and reading how the Reader turned off the air conditioning just makes it worse. I absolutely wish I had the a/c on rn, but also it just snowed here. My parents would think I'm nuts for using the a/c in February (technically March, as I write this part of my ramble).
The tiredness that ghosts around Marc is almost felt through his conversation with the Reader, but I like that. I like that it peaks through, just a teeny bit. And I like this openness between them, I like that it's back.
Reading that Marc wants the Reader to keep the piano...I knew this was coming, but I didn't at the same time.
Oh my god he's thinking about kissing them again. Oh my god and they're kissing ahhhhhdbfbfhfbfhhfhfhf
The line "I'd do anything you need me to. And anything you don't need.", made my heart melt. Furhrhf
You absolutely just.....wow. That's how this chapter was for me. Wow. I know this took much longer to write and send you, but oh my god did I enjoy getting to truly savor every moment of this. I'm so happy I get to read this, and that I get to see this as it continues. You're amazing, that will never change. Wow. Oh man. I'm glad it's 2:37 in the morning because I can't do anything besides sleep now. I wouldn't be able to function throughout my day if I read this when it came out, on Saturday. Oh man. Wow. Thanks for writing. (BTW, love your new theme)
💕💕💕💕
I said it in the tags of my reblog, but this series is gonna stay with me forever. I'm glad this is happening. Thanks for writing, as always.
Crying and screaming over this as always. This means so much to me ❤️
This idea of "I don't deserve *insert person /thing here*, it's only a matter of time before I cause them to leave/it to end" is relatable.
We definitely see the evolution of this in the next chapter.
WAIT A MINUTE WHEN DID THAT PICTURE HAPPEN?? HUH??
A little scene that got cut from the baseball chapter 😂
Reading what you wrote for Jake, when the Reader looks at him...that line tore me in half, I felt like a piece of gum that just got spit out. "He's not meant to be known, that's not his role." That line will haunt me after this series ends, and when I read more Moon Knight fics.
Stop it stop it stop, this is the kind of thing that's got me kicking my feet and giggling I can't stand it.
This is such a good chapter. I don't think I'll ever come across something like this. And yeah, maybe that's the point of writing, but at the same time....no one could write this like you. If this were someone else's idea....I don't know how it would've worked out.
The funny thing about that is, I definitely couldn't have written this even a couple months ago. Without certain things happening to me, this idea would have never come to me.
Gotta say, this part of the chapter hurts alot more. Maybe it's because it resonates with me more. Nevertheless, I'm glad I get to read it.
It gave me a stress headache to write and I had to take a break before coming back to it after I wrote that part.
I won't tell you what fic I'm reminded of as I read a little part of this, but know there's a moment once they get back to the Reader's apartment that reminds me of one of your previous fics, that I go back to a bit.
Nooooo, please I need you to tell me!!!!!!
Once again, thank you for this very detailed review!!! I'm so glad you liked it and you took the time to savor it. It was a really hard chapter to write. 💕
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Writer ask game: J for Moonshadow, I, O?
J: Write or describe an alternative ending to [insert fic].
so i actually DID have a different ending planned for a bit! i was going to have the chimera absorb the others and pearl would have to tear it apart from the inside while it used powers it had gained from them. its wings were supposed to come from false, originally, and honestly her influence would have been fun for him to take on some of her traits upon turning back. i think it would have been cool, but it seemed like it was a betrayal of the stakes set up. the stakes were that You Cannot Escape A Chimera, and pearl being able to reverse grian's transformation was one thing but having her reverse all of them seemed very implausible. maybe when she gets better with her powers, who knows? i also had to distance it from hostile stars a bit LOL
I: Do you have a guilty pleasure in fic (reading or writing)?
watcher fics. listen watcher fics can get really overdone and annoy me sometimes but sometimes i just need to sink my teeth into the tropes of the genre as it were. also ooc angst sometimes it's annoying other times it's exactly what i need. hc x dsmp too!
O: How do you begin a story–with the plot, or the characters?
this is so funny because the answer is neither. concepts burst into my head fully formed and i adapt from there. and that is not an exaggeration i'll just be talking and i'll hit an EPIPHANY and just Know what happens. it's highly inconvenient sometimes
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hey! I found your ao3 by accident a few days ago and after looking for your tumblr I just wanted to stop in to say that your fics are genuinely some of the best writing I’ve ever read in a long time. So much so that I’ve read every single fic apart from one, which I’m saving for a bad day because a) I’m not ready to have finish all of them and b) I know that whatever happens it’ll be enough to cheer me up. This might sound weird for fanfic about a gay war show from 2001 but something about your writing is just so comforting to me, I can’t describe it exactly but your style and prose just works SO well. Your characterisation is just so absolutely perfect that after a while it stops being impressive and becomes slightly scary lmao. I also wanted to say thanks for your contribution to the Shifty/Tab community, my beloved rarepair. I’ve been a fan of them for ages but your fic “Heartbreaker” actually redefined how I see the whole ship, it’s stunning and I’ve read it probably at least 7 times by now. Hopefully this isn’t weird or creepy or anything, I just wanted to let you know that you’re SUCH an incredible author and I wish you nothing but happiness and succes. Have a good day xxx
Oh, Anon.
You have no idea how much I needed to hear something like this. ;--;
Wow, you've truly read a lot! That's a 50+ fics, and they are mostly not exactly drabbles.
I'm so glad you enjoyed my Shifty/Tab fics; writing for rarepairs is such a funny thing. On one hand, I know that the audience is narrower, but on the other, rarepair shippers always deserve more.
Really, I'm very happy you've liked my fics just in general, and that you enjoy my writing style and the work I put in the stories. I love my craft a lot and spend a lot of time with each story, so it's very cool to have them also read by someone.
Thank you so much. I hope you have fun with the fic you saved for last! I'l write more in the future.
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I recently went through some of my ancient drafts and stumbled across my very first attempts at writing steamy romance.
Holy TROPES, Batman!
My gawd, the sex scenes!
The cringe-factor of writing the very first one and not having a clue how to bring what I saw before my mind’s eye to the page (it's always hotter when you imagine it, ya know?). But also enjoying it and just keeping on going. I like to inject humour and make things a bit more human, because apart from hot, sex is also messy, funny and all sorts of weird in my view. Sometimes, humour worked. Sometimes, it was… extremely questionable?
So I just thought I’d share one of these first…erm… marvels and let everyone who’s struggling with writing sex scenes know:
It does get better. It does get easier. You will stop worrying if it sounds right, if it’s “hot enough” or “too hot”. You will stop worrying whether using C-words will catapult you into a different category (I don't do "magic wands" and "joysticks" or anything to do with "meat", but if that floats your boat, all good).
At some point, you just write (I certainly came a long way since then - the one I’m posting here is actually quite tame, but at the time, I thought it wasn't). If you like it yourself, there will be other people out there who will, too. That’s whom you write for - forget about the rest.
This scene is taken from a romance fic I abandoned after 90,000 words (yeah, you read that right) because it wasn't going anywhere. The story is so tropey and cringey that no amount of editing was going to fix it. The bedroom antics got better with time though (this is actually the first), so I guess it was worth it in terms of "copulation practice", bwahaha.
Buckle up for the cringe-fest and meet Julian and Rebecca...
NSFW, 18+ only
Swearing
Cheating/Adultery
M/F safe sex/penetration
~2000 words to describe one fuck
When we arrived at the hotel, Julian led me through the lobby towards the elevator, past the reception. He made sure that we weren’t holding hands or looked in any way too close. My mind began to race. What if anyone had noticed? Nothing, actors probably brought hookers and escorts into their suites all the time, and it wouldn’t have surprised me if the hotel staff had been paid off. For a second, it made me feel cheap, but I banished the thought quickly.
We stepped into the elevator, and he pressed the button to the top floor. He looked at me from the corner of his eye, then turned towards me. We were standing really close, but we didn’t touch. His breathing was shallow, and my heart was racing. Once again, we got lost in each other’s eyes completely.
“Jesus…” His voice was nothing more than a whisper.
“What?”
He didn’t answer. He also still didn’t touch me, although I desperately wanted him to.
The elevator had arrived at the top floor, and the doors pinged open.
He just grabbed my arm and basically dragged me through the hallway. When we arrived in front of his suite, he nervously searched his pockets for his keycard. He pulled it through once, twice — nothing, the light stayed red.
“Fucking hell, seriously?” His hands were shaking, and I thought to myself how sweet it was to see him so nervous and out of his depth.
I gently took the card out of his hand and tried it. The light turned green, and I opened the door with a smile. Julian looked at me for a second, still holding my arm, and then pulled me in. He turned around in an instant and pushed the door shut, both of his hands resting right next to my head, keeping me trapped between his body and the door.
We were standing like this for what seemed like an eternity, just looking at each other, breathing heavily. He moved even closer, and his body was now touching mine. I really felt like I was going to combust any second.
And then he kissed me.
Gently at first. He had moved his hands away from the door, one resting on my shoulder, the other cupping my face. His lips were soft, and he seemed cautious, as if he wasn’t too sure if he really had my permission. To reassure him, I ran my hands up his chest and opened my mouth slightly. The kiss became deeper, and his hands moved lower and pulled me in closer. I arched my back, and our hips touched. Before I knew, he had lifted me up and pushed me against the door. I wrapped my legs around him, and our kiss turned more desperate and breathless.
The street-lamps were the only source of light, and when Julian carried me, he bumped into a chair. We both started to chuckle. It only lasted for a moment though, and he kissed me again, stumbling towards the bed, before we finally fell on top of it.
We were both still wearing our heavy coats and winter jackets, and I made some fumbling attempts to open the zip on his. He stopped kissing me.
“Wait,” he whispered breathlessly, sat up and opened his jacket, only to toss it on the floor carelessly. I unbuttoned my coat, and he helped me to get out of it.
Julian ran his hands down my flanks, quickly lifted my top and pulled it over my head. He paused and just looked at me, running his fingers through my hair, before he kissed me again. I so desperately wanted to feel him and ran my hands underneath his shirt.
He drew in a sharp breath and laughed quietly. “Your hands are freezing!”
“Sorry. I’m very nervous.”
“Me, too.”
I moved back my head and looked at him. “Really?”
He just nodded, and I could feel that he was trembling slightly.
“You’re shaking. Is it my hands?”
“Yes.” He closed his eyes for a second, breathed in deeply, and then opened them to look at me again. “It’s actually all of you.”
I took off his shirt and kissed his chest. When Julian took off my bra, I felt self-conscious all of a sudden, despite the dark room. He gently put his hands on my shoulders.
“Please let me look at you.”
I didn’t know why, but I involuntarily crossed my arms in front of my chest, feeling an embarrassed smile creep up my face.
He took my hands, shook his head and whispered: “Don’t hide from me.” Then he carefully pushed my arms aside.
He moved slightly to the side, and the outside lights hit me softly. His lips parted, releasing a gentle breath. It was all I needed to reassure me. No one had ever looked at me like this, and it completely floored me.
Julian kissed me again, gently but very deeply, and pulled me on top of him. I ran my hands down his body until I could feel the button of his jeans. I unfastened it and let my hand slide inside. He held his breath for a second when I touched him, and then just surrendered to my probing fingers.
After a while, Julian looked at me, breathing heavily. “God, I wanted to do this all day!”
I stared at him, wide-eyed. “You did?”
He chuckled. “You bloody well know I did!”
Within an instant, he turned me on my back and kissed me before he jumped up to kick off his shoes and take off his jeans. He knelt beside me again, ran his fingers down my legs and took my boots off, one after the other. His hands ran up the insides of my thighs, and he touched me between my legs almost casually. I inhaled very audibly. He smiled, let his hands glide higher and started to unbutton my jeans. When he had taken them off, a thought ran through my mind, and I knew I had to ask. I didn’t even have to because the very same moment, he started to swear.
“Shit, I don’t have condoms!” He just fell over backwards, put one elbow over his face and laughed quietly.
“What’s so funny about that?” I asked.
“I don’t know.” He turned to face me. The whole situation was absurd, and I couldn’t help but burst out laughing.
I turned towards him and propped myself up on my arm. “I’m sort of glad you don’t have any.”
“Why?”
“Well, I would have probably found it more unsettling if a married man had a pack of condoms on him when he’s not with his wife.”
He turned serious in an instant. “Do you think that’s what I’m like?”
I hesitated for a second. “No.” And I really believed it, as stupid as it might have been.
We were lying on our sides, facing each other, and I gently caressed his face. “Are we making a mistake here?”
“I’m beyond caring…”
He pulled me closer and kissed me again. I still wanted him so desperately, and the fire was lit again within an instant.
“Wait…” I gently wrestled myself out of his embrace, started tiptoeing towards the entrance and ran into the chair again. “Shit!”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you want me to switch on the lights?”
“No, just give me a second.”
I tried to find my bag, and once I had spotted it on the floor right next to the door, I started rummaging through it.
“What are you doing?”
I came back, fell on the bed and held the condom up in front of Julian’s face.
“Oh no, you don’t!” He faked being offended.
“Well, I’m single. Better safe than sorry.” I had to suppress a grin. “Disappointed?”
He laughed. “I’ll think about that later.” Then he turned serious again. “No, I’m actually very, very glad…”
We kissed, but the gentleness was gone. We were both desperate and impatient. I ran my fingers inside his boxers and started to pull them down until I had to move aside to take them off. I started to fumble at the condom wrapper and looked at Julian sheepishly.
“Can I help?” he asked, half mockingly, half seriously.
“I think I’m okay.”
He grabbed my briefs and took them off rather unceremoniously, over-stretching the elastic in the process, which turned them into a shapeless mess. I looked at him with fake indignation, mouth open.
“Sorry,” he whispered with a chuckle, but it was obvious he didn’t mean it.
I lay down on my back and smilingly reached out to take his hand, pulling him on top. For a moment, he just looked at me, gently rocking his pelvis against mine. Did he have second thoughts?
I ran my fingers through his hair. “Are you still sure? We can stop, and no one will ever know…”
“If you can stop now, you’ve got superhuman self-control!” He smiled, but it only lasted for a second, and he turned really serious. “You only have to say stop, I hope you know that?”
I knew he’d never understand why, but his saying this was one of the very reasons I wanted him, more than anyone could ever imagine.
“I don’t want you to stop.” I tilted my pelvis slightly and directed him where I needed him to be.
Julian gently slipped inside me, still looking into my eyes. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”
He kissed me again and started to move very slowly. It was so overwhelming, and it didn’t take long until I began to lose control.
“Wait!” I whispered breathlessly.
“What?” He stopped and looked concerned.
I tried to catch my breath. “I’ve been single for some time, and despite my carrying around condoms, I actually haven’t done this for a while.” I laughed, and it made him smile in return. “I’m really struggling to pace myself. We’ll need to take it slow, or…” I could feel myself blushing at the complete and utter embarrassment of admitting that I really couldn’t control myself.
“You’re very sweet,” he started to move again, “but I really don’t want you to hold back.”
“I don’t think I’ll be able to if we go on like this.” I felt myself involuntarily grinding against him, torn between trying to slow myself down and letting go, and I started to breathe heavily again. In a feeble attempt to set the pace, I wrapped my legs around him, but I knew I was fighting a losing battle.
“Just let go. It really turns me on, don’t worry about me.”
He was still moving rather slowly, but the feeling was so intense and deep that I simply couldn't fight it. I started to tremble and everything tightened. Trying to suppress a moan just seemed to make me louder. And then it was over, but it also felt as if it weren’t.
Julian watched me closely, still moving inside me, a small frown appearing between his brows.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“If you only knew how hot it is to see you get off like that, you wouldn't apologise.”
“I’m…”
“Ssh.”
He had found his own rhythm, deep and strong, and we both broke out in a sweat when he picked up pace. I pulled his head towards my face to kiss him. His breathing was hard and fast, and I felt it inside me like I felt him inside me. His body began to tense up, and he came quietly, shaking slightly, his hands buried in my hair.
He kissed me again and again, softer and more gently. His breathing slowed down, and his body began to relax...
#writers#romance#smutty#steamy romance#old writing#one of my first ever sex scenes#I died when I wrote it and laughed so hard at the same time#writing sex scenes#smut#what WAS I thinking?#That’s actually harmless but I thought it was scandalous at the time#nanowrimo#writeblr#writer problems#writerscommunity#women writers
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YOUR MAJESTY! YOUR HIGHNESS! I'm here to tell you about how much i love the riddler fic! It's just... Chefs kisses?? I still don't know the word describe your good writing so let's just say it is perfect.
Oh and i maybe here to request about... How can we say... Reader rides -and not in dominating way. I'm sorry but i'm craving for soft riding where the reader kisses all over his face.- Eddie because he is just pathetic and desperate. If you don't want write it i understand.
Have a good day/afternoon/night. 💚
All My Love
Thank you SO much, my love! You are so kind and every time I've read this message it's made me smile. I hope you enjoy 💖 Comments, reblogs and likes are all appreciated!
Requests are open but I'm slow 😬
Edward Nashton x Femme! Reader
Warnings: NSFW (18+ ONLY), some mild angst at the beginning, PIV sex, partially clothed sex, brief oral (m recieving), spit as lube, cream pie, dom! reader/sub! eddie dynamics if you squint real hard.
Eddie has nightmares.
That's what he told you the first time you asked him to stay over—said it like a dirty secret, with his eyes to the floor. You'd prepared for the worst, tucking yourself tight against his side beneath the covers. If he did have nightmares, though, they never disturbed your sleep. There were a few times where you might feel him shifting at your side in the wide expanse of your bed, or notice his arms wrapping tighter against your ribs while you stayed on the edges of a dream, but there was nothing beyond that. Nothing that would warrant the worry he felt.
Now though, you can feel him shaking beneath you.
The living room in Eddie's apartment is dark and cold, the sparse furniture illuminated by the blue-white light of the TV, playing old Jeopardy reruns with the volume turned off. You're stretched out across his well-loved couch, curled in tight against him, soaking in his warmth.
It almost feels like he's laughing—his silent and erratic breaths vibrating through his chest—and you bury your face tighter against the old t-shirt he wears, taking in the smell of his laundry detergent and skin.
"What's so funny, Ed?"
There's no response, just the shake of his body. Your eyelids are heavy, muscles stiff and warm from sleep and you'd like nothing more than to sink back into unconsciousness, wrapped up in his arms.
"Eddie?"
There's still no answer. His eyes are still closed, glasses askew, mouth twisted in pain. The muscles of his neck are taut and pale, shining with sweat.
Then the conversation comes back to you, from so long ago, and you're worried about it for the first time. Taking him by the shoulders, you cup your hand around his neck and try to shake him from it, but the nightmare lingers, and he fights to be released, features clenched tight. When he opens his eyes, they're wet with tears.
He blinks, staring at you without recognition, staring at you in disbelief.
"Eddie?" He flinches against your fingers as they brush though his hair.
He's breathing hard, speaking the words without pause. "Are you going to leave me?"
"What?" God. It's like he's punched a hole through your chest with the way you crumble, body a gaping wound. "Eddie, I would never."
His brows are pinched with hurt, expression puzzled, hands resting loosely at your waist ready to drop the moment you might shake him off, already preparing for you to run.
His skin is smooth and warm, familiar features flushed as you straighten his glasses and brush the hair from his eyes. You need to tell him in every way imaginable, imprinting the words against his skin with the tips of your fingers.
"I love you, Eddie."
Had you said those words before? You'd thought them plenty, in the most mundane moments. His fingers curling around a freshly washed plate as you handed it to him, wiping the stray droplets off with a towel. Finding a note pinned to the fridge long after he's left in the morning. A cup of coffee rested beside you on the table, made just the way you like without having to ask. I love you. I love you. I love you.
Eddie looks at you like he's witnessing a miracle. He looks at you like he's waiting to wake up from an impossible dream.
He licks his trembling lips before he speaks, and the word comes out jagged. "Really?"
He pulls you against him without waiting for an answer, without even really believing it, his hot, open mouth against yours, tongue slipping between your teeth even though you must taste stale with sleep. You can feel yourself smiling against him, feel his whispered I love you, too, spoken against your lips.
It's cold in Eddie's apartment, but he's so god damn warm when you're like this, pressed chest to chest, your body wrapped in the hoodie he let you borrow and his hot hands slipping beneath the hem, gripping tightly at the skin of your hips.
You let your lips wander from his, tracing down his cheek, tongue darting out to clear the salty remnants of his tears from his skin. His hair tickles against your cheek, and you press closer, your lips just brushing his ear.
"Can I show you how much I love you?"
You're consumed by the sound of his breathing. Consumed by the harsh yes he whispers, by the impatient shift of his hips. He's already hard for you—clothed cock pressed heavily against your thigh—and there are so many things that you love about Eddie but this is definitely one of your favorites.
You slip your legs from the sweats you're wearing, and the cold air bites at your skin as you shift, straddling Eddie's thighs.
He reaches for you, long fingers cupping your bare skin, tracing down between your legs. You take his wrist in your hand.
"Not right now, Eddie. I wanna make you feel good first."
You prop his hand on your waist, sitting forward on your knees, letting the pattern of the upholstery and the places where it's worn away make imprints on your skin. He inhales sharply as you pull the waistband of his pajama pants down around his thighs, his dick bright red, flooded with blood in anticipation of your touch. Your thumb brushes tenderly over the head of his cock, collecting the shining smear of his pre-cum on your skin. He bucks against your hand.
Spit pools against your teeth, mouth aching to be filled, ready to digest him, to swallow him whole. The muscles in his thighs grow tighter as you lean down, pressing a gentle kiss to the head of his dick. When you take him in between your lips, his back arches from the cushions, whimpering an apology.
You coat him with your saliva, stroking one hand gently over the shaft until little bubbles of it pool in the little hairs at the base, circling your tongue around the tip.
You pull back, lips shining, collecting the taste of him on your tongue. "Are you ready for me?"
He nods, face flushed and sweaty. Long fingers bury themselves in the excess material of your hoodie, holding you in place as you move to straddle his hips.
Eddie feels so good inside you. He always feels so good, but there's something different about it now, something crystalline and rare growing in the pit of your stomach as the head of his cock breaches your folds. The ache of that stretch feels holy as you sink lower, shifting down and down until skin meets skin.
His chest rises and falls beneath your hands; he stares up at you with wide eyes, brimming with gratitude and tears, pink lips parting as you begin to shift your hips.
God. Fuck. Your skin grows tight, the space around your cunt tingling with each thrust as he hits your right where you need him, your sharp breaths turning into soft moans.
His hands are caressing your stomach, moving slowly beneath the hoodie—soaked with your sweat—cupping your breasts, almost shy, despite everything. His moistened palms massage over your skin, fingers pinching your nipples into stiff peaks and you throw your head back, grinding down further to chase the spark of pleasure he's created.
"Does that-" he's having a hard time catching his breath, unable to find the air needed to speak the words, "does that feel good?"
The moisture in your breath condenses on his face when you lean closer. "Don't stop."
You kiss him hard between breaths, press kisses against the tip of his nose and the frame of his glasses, kiss his warm, pink lips even though your jaw is tight and the ripples of pleasure are threatening to become a wave, ready to drown you at any moment.
"I'm gonna cum, Eddie," you warn him, and he nods, so willing to please you even though this was supposed to be about him. Your lips are at his cheek, his neck, the time between erased in the bright blur, light pulsing behind your eyes as he cums inside you with a keening whine, and your body finally gives in and goes under.
He rides you through his own orgasm—bucking his hips weakly, cum spilling from your swollen cunt with each shift, coating your already sticky skin—and you let the pleasure of it build again, accepting the raw live-wire spark in the pit of your stomach.
You run your lips over his hairline, down the bones of his cheek, and his body shakes with quiet laughter.
"I love you, Eddie."
He's still shaking when he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in close, his smiling lips finding your temple. This time—you think—he actually believes it.
#the riddler x reader#the riddler x you#edward nashton x reader#edward nashton x you#the riddler/reader#the riddler/you#edward nashton/you#edward nashton/reader#the riddler smut#edward nashton smut#paul dano riddler#the batman fanfiction#the batman fanfic#dano!riddler smut#dano!riddler x reader#dano!riddler x you#dano!riddler#my writing#requests#minors dni
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