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luvf4ngz · 19 days

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HOT LOVE ON THE WING - jason todd.

Descripton: You’re not upset about your most recent breakup; you’re just upset you have no one to fuck anymore. Good thing your Shakespeare loving best friend, Jason, has a solution to that.

Contents: This Bad Boy Is PACKED With Shakespeare References, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cheating (Not By Jason Or Reader), You And Jason Are Absolute Fucking DORKS, Good Friend Jason Todd, Best Friend Jason Todd, Self-Indulgent, Cunnilingus, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Female Reader, HEAVY Banter, Hair-pulling, Vaginal Fingering, Squirting, Overstimulation :), Pet Names, Praise Kink, Dacryphilia, Soft Jason Todd, Dom Jason Todd, Missionary Position, Doggy Style, Cowgirl Position, Nipple Play, Spanking, Rough Sex, Dumbification, Fucked Stupid, Unrealistic Sex, Unprotected Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Spit/Drool, Goofy Giggly Sex, But Also Hard and Fast Sex, Jason Destroys Your Spiderman Panties :(

Word Count: 3131

Author's Note: If it wasn't obvious from the tags this is a repost from my AO3 hehe. This is genuinely my favorite fic I've ever written, I hope you enjoy it as much as I do :) <3

“It’s okay, pretty girl. You can take it, can’t you? You made a big show of defying me earlier, put your money where your mouth is - right?”

You threw open the door to his dorm, instantly honing in on his bed and diving into the soft plush. Jason is sitting at his desk, looking up at you from his book with a roll of his eyes at your dramatic entrance.

“Well, hello to you too.” His tone is dripping with sarcasm, but his smile betrays his facade. “It’s nice to see you again, stranger. How long has it been, hm?” He teases, his words alluding to the fact that you’ve been spending less time with him lately in favor of being with your “new boy toy” - as he put it.

You let out a hum into the comforter before moving to your side to properly look at him. “Well I think you’ll be very happy to hear that I’m all yours again, Todd, so there’s no need to be jealous.” You cheekily reply.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” His eyebrows knit together in confusion. You thought it made him look adorable.

“I broke up with my ‘boy toy’, as you so politely called him.” You giggled out, using your fingers as quotation marks for emphasis.

“What!? What happened?” Jason’s eyes widened at the news you so casually dropped.

“Apparently he’s been cheating on me for some time. My friend showed me some pictures of him shoving his tongue down some girl’s throat at a party so I broke it off with him this morning. Anyways, what’s been going on in Jay-Land?” You grin widely as you gaze at him from the bed.

Your attempt at changing the topic of conversation went unsuccessful.

Jason sat up from his spot, setting his book down before hurriedly making his way over to you, settling down beside you on the bed.

“Are you okay?”

“Don’t I seem okay to you? I’m just fine, dude.” You tried to reassure him, your voice unwavering and relaxed as your eyes followed him.

“I mean, I guess; but I thought you really liked him.”

“It seems like you want me to be sad over this. What do you want me to say? ‘Tears seven times salt burn the sense and virtue from mine eyes!’” You gasp out the line dramatically, bringing a hand to cover your heart and the other to wipe non-existent tears from your face, before bursting out into giggles.

“Don’t you go quoting Shakespeare at me! That’s my role in this friendship!” Jason playfully nudges your shoulder as a wide grin breaks out on his own face.

“The Jason doth protest too much, methinks.” You do your best to put on a snooty tone, but your laughter prevents it.

“Oh, shut up.”

Another round of cackles start up between the two of you, and you both relish in the comfortable silence that falls after.

“You know,” You start, breaking the silence and making Jason’s head turn towards you. “There is one thing I’m sad about.”

“What?”

“His dick game was mad good.” You say with an extravagant sigh. “I’m gonna miss it.” You fake a few sniffles.

“Aw, come on now. There’s other dick out there.”

“Nah, it’s too much work. I’ll just have to survive without it for now. ‘But I have that within which passeth show; these but the trappings and the suits of woe.’”

“I can’t believe he’s got you so cock-drunk that you’re quoting Hamlet.” Jason tsks out in false disapproval. “He’s not good enough to be depressed for.”

“He’s not, but the sex definitely was.”

“It couldn’t have been that good.”

“It was.”

“Not better than what I could do though.”

“Ehhhhhh…” You squinch your face together in overplayed disbelief, causing him to fix you with a sharp glare and a hurt gasp.

“Is that a challenge?” He smirked, his eyes narrowing in competitiveness.

“I know it not ‘seems’.”

“You cheeky motherfucker.” Jason smiles out before grabbing your waist and throwing you further up the bed. It causes you to let out a startled yelp as Jason moved to hover over your body.

“Oh? You gonna prove it to me, Todd? You must be overcompensating for something if you get this riled up over such a small comment. You know, if you wanted to fuck me - you could have just asked.”

“Funny, I was about to say the exact same thing.” He leans in to bite your neck, making your body jolt against his.

“Hey! Play nice, Todd.” You scold, slapping his shoulder before wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I’m ever so sorry, madam.” He fake pouts before attacking your face with kisses.

“Stop!” You squeal out, giggles erupting uncontrollably from the ticklish sensation. You move your hands to his chest, pushing him away from you. “Are you ever gonna get on with it, or are you just gonna keep messing around?”

“That’s a fair thought: to lie between maids’ legs.”

“Ugh, it doesn’t sound as good when you do it.”

“Excuse you? I’m a Shakespeare quoting champ!”

“You’re awfully defensive today, Todd.” You note with a grin.

“Keep talking, princess, see what happens.” He jokingly warns.

He pulls back from you to pull his shirt over his head, before going to tug at his pants. You follow after him, sitting up to discard your own clothing. Once you both are left in your underwear, Jason pushes you flat against the bed again.

“Spiderman panties. Cute.”

“Shut up. It’s not like I planned for this to happen.” You grumbled out at his observation. You forgot about them and your cheeks burned with embarrassment.

“Mhm, sure, sweetheart.”

Jason starts planting sloppy kisses on your skin, trailing his way down your body until he’s reached your waistband. He shuffles down the bed and lies down between your legs, leaning in to snatch the fabric of your underwear between his teeth and ripping it off your legs.

“Jay! I liked that pair!”

“My bad, princess, I’ll be sure to buy you some new ones.”

“Better still be spiderman.”

“I’m more Team Cap.” He disserts before gripping your thighs and dragging your core closer to his face; the back of your calves rest on his shoulders.

His eyes drag down your glistening pussy before he lets out a loud wolf whistle at the sight.

“Ew, Todd!” You laugh, trying to kick him for the action but the hold he has on you is too tight to allow movement.

“What? I’m just appreciating the view.”

He dips his head down, tongue flicking at your hooded clit before he wraps his lips and around the bud and sucks. He feels your thighs tighten around his head as your own tilts up to let out a loud moan. He replaces his tongue with his fingers, expertly working the nub in circles as he peers up at you.

Your head is turned to the side, eyes clenched and lips spilling shaky whines.

‘A damn nice sight’, if he did say so himself.

He continues to stimulate your clit with his thumb, pressing his tongue to your dripping hole to lap up your arousal.

“Fuck, Jason! You really know how to put the money where your mouth is,” You mumble into the sheets, hips bucking up every once in a while from the pleasure.

Jason grips you tighter, preventing you from moving. He briefly looks up to note “I think you’ll find I know how to use my mouth quite well”, before moving to continue eating you out.

His actions are faster, more feverous. His tongue runs up and down your sex, your slick coating his taste buds. He savors it - lets out a deep hum that reverberates through your pussy and up your spine, sending shivers through your body. He sucks and slurps at you, so passionate that you swear you can feel your soul escaping through your cunt. The wet smacks do nothing but turn you on more, your thighs pressing closer to his head and acting as earmuffs.

Your hands move from their place bunched in his sheets to his hair, tanging the dark locks between your fingers and instinctively tugging. It causes a low groan to tear from his throat, the bass and depth of it fueling the uncontrollable hot ache in your stomach. That only makes you want to do it again. The second tug makes a sound that’s akin to a growl, before Jason pauses his movements to stare up at you.

“Careful, princess. Don’t bite off more than you can chew.”

It’s a sight to behold. Jason: heaving, eyes blown, his face shiny from your smeared slick. His mouth is open, panting - his gaze refusing to leave contact with yours. There’s mischief glimmering in the depth of his eyes.

You don’t reply - only smirk, and yank his head closer to your sex again.

“Oh, you’ve done it now.”

His hand moves from your clit to your dripping hole, two fingers pushing their way inside you. His lips reattach to your clit as he starts to move his fingers - fast and rough and leaving you no time to adjust to his intrusion.

“J-Jesus fuck!” He can feel your thighs twitching, can feel your fingers gripping onto his hair hard in response, and it only spurs him on more.

His palm smacks against your cunt with each hit, splattering your slick. His fingers move at an unfathomable speed, pads searching for that one spot inside you that will make you see white.

You’re whimpering and whining above him, senses overwhelmed at Jason’s rough ministrations. It’s too much: the pressure building inside you. It feels like you’re on the edge, senses ready to fall into a never-ending pit of endorphins and fear and exhilaration. There are fireworks inside you, lit and ready to burst and fry all of your sensibilities.

Finally, it happens - what Jason’s been waiting for. With a slightly tilted angle of his hand and a curl of his fingers, he finds it. He knows because you suddenly tense up; because you let out the most angelic, strung-out moan he’s ever heard; because your walls clamp down on his fingers and a jet of tangy, sweet liquid hits his awaiting tongue.

God he wishes he could watch you cum over and over and over. He’s gonna think back to this moment when he’s fucking his fist in the future - that’s for sure. The view of you - back arched, eyes teary. The sensation of you - warm and wet and tight against his digits. The sound of you - desperate and high pitched and wailing out his name. He wants it all burned into his brain.

“Jason, Jason!” Yeah, that’s the sound of heaven alright. “Jay! Stop! I came- I can’t!”

Hm?

Oh. He hasn’t stopped pumping his fingers inside you. Oh, well.

“It’s okay, pretty girl. You can take it, can’t you? You made a big show of defying me earlier, put your money where your mouth is - right?”

God, you’re shaking. You look like a leaf shivering in the wind, or a cat left out in the rain. Your eyes are glossy and teary and fuck. You look so beautiful falling apart for him.

Your brain is in shambles, screaming and begging for a reprieve. It’s dizzying, the assault of your sensations. All you can hear, think, feel is Jason.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, please!”

“Come on, princess. Just let go. Just one more for me, yeah?”

You can’t tell if the second orgasm hits you like a train or slowly drowns you in its weight. Maybe a mix of both - a crashing of a tsunami that simultaneously relieves your ache and steals your breath.

You’re sobbing, trembling, gasping for breath and trying to regain feeling from the clouds that seem to have replaced your nerves.

“You did so well.” Jason cooes. He’s sitting up, suckling your juices from his fingers like you were a decadent 5-star meal.

He moves to lay down beside you, pulling your body to curl into his, back to peppering your cheeks with chaste, affectionate kisses.

“Fuck, Jason.” You heave out, still slightly out of it.

“Was that okay? Did I get carried away?” He questions softly, concern lacing the green in his eyes.

“Yeah, no, that was great.” You quickly reassure him. “I just- wow. I need a moment.”

He chuckles quietly before holding you close to his body again. “So? Did I exceed your expectations?”

“Don’t get cocky. Hubris was the downfall of Macbeth.” You shuffle closer to him. “Speaking of cocky, is that a dagger - or are you just happy to see me?”

“I’m always happy to see you princess,” Jason croons. “but I am extremely rock hard right now, too.”

Your hands drift down his body, sensually tracing every muscle from his chest to his pelvis, before tugging off his boxers.

You swing your body on top of his, straddling his waist as you begin pumping his cock.

“Well then” You start, positioning yourself on top of his awaiting member, “O’ happy dagger, this is thy sheath…”

You start to sink down on him as you finish the quote, your words trailing off into a wanton moan.

“I’d yell at you for saying something so stupid if you weren’t fucking squeezing my cock right now.” Jason manages to huff out. His teeth are gritted, eyes shut as he tries not to cum at the sensation of you wrapped warm and tight around him.

His large hands settle on your waist as yours plant themselves on his chest for support.

“You have to admit, it’s clever wordplay.” You mewl, mind fuzzy from the sensation of his dick stretching you out.

Tingles shoot up your body as the pain dissolves into a delicious fullness. You crave friction, your very core feels like it's aching for it. In fact, you think you’ll go insane if you don’t start moving right now.

You carefully lift your hips up, before dropping back down again, repeating the motion over and over until you’ve built up a somewhat regular rhythm.

Moans ceaselessly flow from your lips, interspersed with mumbled swears and curses.

Your head is tipped forward, your hair falling into your face. Jason’s hand comes up to brush it back behind your ear, before gently cupping your cheek.

“You feel so good baby, fuck.” He grunts.

His other hand comes up to undo your bra, releasing your tits to him. Both palms move to cup them, kneading at the soft flesh before working your perked nipples with his fingers.

You still your movements with a whine, too confounded by the assault of stimulations you were feeling. That doesn’t mean that you’re not still desperate and yearning, though. Your thighs do their best to rub against each other, trying to chase friction despite your inaction.

It’s only as you rest that you feel how sore your legs have become, enough that you let out a pitiful mewl.

“Is my pretty baby tired?” Jason muses, while he’s still pinching and rolling your sensitive buds.

“Mhm,” You moan out in reply.

He quickly rolls the both of you over, laying you down onto your back again before flipping you onto your stomach.

You quickly shuffle onto your knees, arching back against him in wait.

“Good girl,” He laughs out. His palms rub against your cheeks, squeezing the flesh there before pulling back and giving it a slap.

It earns him a broken moan from your throat, and the view of your ass shaking in desperation.

It only makes him laugh again. “Have some patience, naughty girl.”

He spanks you again, and you keen so high-pitched and pretty that he can only relent to your demands.

Jason grips his cock and guides it to your wet folds, sliding it up and down before finally pushing in. You welcome him easily, pussy molding perfectly to his thick cock.

A hand settles on your waist while the other tangles into your hair. He yanks your head back as he starts fucking you hard and fast.

His hips smack hard against your ass with each thrust, slowly turning the skin there sore and heated. His cock is bullying its way in and out of you, the tip knocking against your sweet spot with a force that repeatedly knocks the breath and thoughts out of you.

Your eyes are rolled back, brain melted, as drool drips from your lips.

Chants of “fuck” and “Jay” are the only sounds your mouth remembers how to make now.

“Just keep saying my name like that, sweetheart.” Jason pants out.

He can’t believe how good you feel around him. You’re so warm and wet that his cock glides in and out so easy, making it effortless for him to abuse your poor cunt.

The hand in your hair guides you up to him, back pressed against his sweaty chest as he tilts your head and leans in for a kiss.

It’s messy with your spit and drool, both your movements uncoordinated and sloppy.

He fucks up into you all the while, gravity allowing him to hit harder and deeper inside you.

He can feel that you’re close again - your body is twitching against him, your cunt beginning to spasm.

The hand on your waist reaches to rub quick and hard circles against your clit, and you’re gone.

Your whole body shudders as you soak his cock, before going limp is his hold. It’s an intense buzzing sensation that overtakes you, settling deep in your veins until you’re trapped in a pleasing static. Your head is submerged in sticky syrup that makes it hard to think, so you just indulge in the calming weight of it.

Jason pulls out and gently maneuvers your dazed body back to the bed, hand working himself to completion before finishing on your stomach - his warm cum splattering on the skin as he lets out a husky grunt.

He stays there, catching his breath for a few moments before he disappears to the bathroom while you come down from your high, washing his hands and grabbing a damp towel to bring back to you.

He wipes you clean before poking your cheek until your gaze refocuses on him.

“How was it?” He cheekily smirks.

“I certainly died a lovely death in thy lap,” You chuckle.

“If you can still quote Shakespeare I didn’t fuck you dumb enough.” Jason frowns.

“Awh, cheer up, you big baby.” You reach out to pat his head endearingly, “I change my mind; your dick game is definitely better.”

“YES!” Jason fist-pumps like he just scored a touch-down and you smile at how stupid he looks. “Okay, now you go pee.” He shoos you away. “I’ll change the sheets and we can watch reruns of Gossip Girl again.”

“I would not wish any companion in the world but you.” You fake tear-up, wiping your eyes before giggling the whole way to the bathroom.

Thank you so much for reading! A comment or reblog is much appreciated. Have a great day <3

- sumi ☆ミ

ミ☆ masterlist

#sumi — works.#sumi — dc.#red hood smut #red hood x reader #jason todd smut #jason todd x reader #dc smut #dc x reader #mdni #sumi — my love.

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dalliancekay · 1 month

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Aziraphale does NOT need to suffer MORE

Can't believe I have to say this. TW: grief, mourning, death (sorry) I have, since falling into the fandom 6 months ago to escape real life, seen many takes on how Aziraphale needs to suffer in S3 to match Crowley's suffering. Mainly as the counterpart to the moment Crowley thinks he lost Aziraphale as he's looking for him desperately in the burning bookshop.

Then drinks, we suppose, to dull his pain, waiting for the Armageddon. Also, the way Crowley suffers at the bandstand argument, the 'I Forgive You' moments, which many people find utterly devastating and incredibly heartless from Aziraphale. Not to mention when he doesn't react in the 'right way' to Crowley's confession in the Final 15. And then on top of that, 'abandons' Crowley. Oh and also for, and I quote: "The smug and entitled way Aziraphale went around in S2 assuming Crowley would love and follow him everywhere." And for all this pain that Crowley endured for him, Aziraphale should suffer in S3, to I assume, even out the scores. Some people want to see him lose it, show his emotions, to cry or beg or otherwise show how much he misses Crowley and how very sorry he is for what he's done.

Now for the TW grief content I motioned above. You can skip to the next sentence in bold.

WE ALL SUFFER DIFFERENTLY I was on holiday late September last year, visiting my mum, stepfather and my two younger brothers. We went to a cousin's wedding. It was great. The day after, as I was hanging out reading a book my mum got a call. The kind of call every mother fears. My youngest brother (he was 27) died in an accident. We needed to speak to police and the coroner. She cried and cried. She's still crying. She asks questions. She gets no answers. I did not cry. I talked to the police. I googled a funeral home. I bought my brother his last set of clothes. He lived in a hoodie and torn black jeans. Mum wanted a suit. But he died in the one he bought for the wedding. I texted a lot of people. I bought snacks for the many friends who came to the funeral and wanted to speak to us after. My grief feels like a vice. I am not sad. I do not appear sad. Contrary to what people expect. But I am ANGRY. I am furious. But nobody can see this. I am not fine and I wish no one would ever* ask how I was again. TW/Personal content over. Since I was small (because I am weird like that) I genuinely wondered if, finding myself in danger, I could scream like people in films do. I don't think I could. I cope with hard situations, fear and stress and anxiety by shutting down, sometimes by retreating too, by furiously trying to find a way out. And I think Aziraphale does the same. And that's why I love him so much. And why I feel get him and understand that people sometimes can't tell how much he's actually feeling. I also express love the way Aziraphale does - by organising things for people I love, inviting them places, making plans. When Crowley said you call me for three things (and it's basically any old reason) I felt SO SEEN. This is what I would do with a friend who I know is feeling unmoored, sad, stuck. I'd text them with any old thing. I'd never actually say I love you, how can I help though, I would try to get them to talk, meet me, go somewhere. Aziraphale does not express emotions the same way as Crowley.

But his emotions are valid nonetheless. He is worried for Crowley from around 3 minutes into their acquaintanceship. And he NEVER stops worrying.

And are we quite sure he has never lost Crowley?

How many times did Aziraphale's heart freeze in horror when he realised Hell has taken Crowley and he had no idea if he'll ever come back and what is happening to him?

Why else would he be so worried about working on the Arrangement? Was he worried just for himself? Do we really think that?

Crowley thinks he lost Aziraphale, yes, we saw that, but do they ever talk about what happened to the angel then? Do we?

That he got blown into atoms which I bet wasn't pleasant and when he arrives in Heaven he limps? Why is he hurt? Why is he quickly pretending he isn't? Why is he always hiding how he feels? Also, he immediately deserts, wants no part in the Holy War and quickly finds an extremely unconventional way to get back. It's not a grand gesture, there's no pomp around it, he thinks this and then does it. No hesitation.

Is this coming from an angel who just can't leave Heaven behind and longs to be a part of it? Who loves to follow rules? And let's not forget in those moments Aziraphale thought Crowley was gone. That he very likely left for Alpha Centauri. Last he heard from him he was told he was talking to an old friend and had no time for him. Why we NEVER talk about how that might have felt for Aziraphale?

Things are not as simple as Aziraphale has been supressing his emotions and lying to himself about how he feels and he should get over it and become free. That's not how this works. His trauma and his personality are deeply intertwined and he'd never be the kind of person who is open in showing their grief or stress. He will learn to be more open, with his love especially, we see him reaching for and touching his demon in S2. Openly being with him, looking at him without guarding himself. That's HUGE. He's trying. So. Just because Aziraphale is not crying and screaming and I dunno, tearing his hair out or whatever some people would have him do, does not mean he isn't overflowing with pain, fear, uncertainty, doubts, worries, and so much anxiety that if he let it all out, half of the solar system would turn to ashes.

Aziraphale does not need to suffer in S3 to level out Crowley's suffering. They are, unfortunately, equal in their pain as they are in love. If there is one thing Crowley would never abide, it'd be this take from the fandom. * A note on grief (obviously from my personal experience) As initiated by @anthony-crowleys-left-nut in a comment

It's not that I mind to know people care and worry etc, but asking how I am can only end in me lying (fine, thank you) and both of us knowing it's not really true and feeling awkward or not lying (I feel like shit, mostly cos I can't sleep and think the world is a stupid unfair place) and both of us feeling awkward anyway. Does that make sense? I wish I could tell friends/colleagues to ask what I've been up to or something similar instead. What I've been reading (um, AO3, but I'll make something up), watching, do I want to go see some spring flowers bloom (I do).

#aziraphale #good omens #crowley #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #neil gaiman #ineffable divorce #aziraphale my beloved #good omens thoughts #aziraphale defense squad #suffering in silence #grief #tw grief #dealing with grief #loss #tw death #kaypost

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nastyaromatherapy · 6 months

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can we get dark ethan where he takes reader’s virginity through non con? sorry if this request is too dark only if you’re comfortable with it 💜

Unwanted encounter (18+)

Ethan your econ partner, loves the idea of taking your virginity.

pairing - ghostface!ethan landry x cheerleader!fem!reader

one shot length, 2.2k+ word fic

warnings: non con, first time, minimal knife play, hair pulling, creampie, reader is smart w an airhead personality, pervy ethan

read more cut isn't working so sorry for that 🌚

Your professor partnered up you and Ethan for an Econ project. Ethan at first, was not at all thrilled. You were popular, didn't care much about grades, and had the douchiest boyfriend.

He on the other hand, actually wanted that A, and didn't have many friends outside of the core four. He wasn't that close with them either. You wanted that A too, he just wasn't aware of that. He already created a version of you that was untrue in his mind.

But when the day finally came, and he was over at your house, he realized how wrong he was about you. He realized that you were actually really smart, nice, and funny. You actually had a personality.

He asked to see all of the research you've conducted, and you showed him pages of notes. "You're smarter than you look y/n," he teased. You rolled your eyes at him. "What's that supposed to mean?" You asked, taking offense. "I mean you look like the average cheerleader that's fucked more then half of the football team."

You gawk at him and his incel driven ignorance. "I haven't even fucked my boyfriend on that team," you corrected, annoyed. "I'm a fucking virgin- you know nothing about me." He went silent not knowing what to say, but the thought of you never being taken like that before made him throb in his jeans.

"Fuck I'm sorry, it was just a joke." He apologized, voice getting quieter the more he spoke. "Joke," you repeated, clicking your tongue. "Just get the fuck out of my house, my boyfriend 'll be back soon. He's not going to be too happy with you here. He doesn't like dogs on the bed," you snark, pointing to the door.

He looks at the ground and apologizes under his breath again before leaving the room.

Your boyfriend didn't come home. He texted you, "Gonna be out a little later than usual, emergency with the guys." You believed him, Ethan knew he was out fucking some girl. Guys like him can't live with abstinence.

Ethan sat at home, jerking off to videos of you on the sidelines in football highlights. He groaned whenever your skirt lifted up when you jumped, exposing some of your dark navy panties.

He had to know how it felt to be inside you. How tight you would be, never been stretched before. He imagined your moans, begging to be slow your first time, loving the way he impaled your cunt.

He pumped himself faster, getting closer to the edge, imagining his hands were your soft, delicate ones. Then his mind wandered to other places, how would your lips feel, wrapped around his tip? He came just at the thought, shooting ropes onto his grey sweats.

He just had to feel you, he had too. So, he put on his black robe and mask, the one he planned to use to execute Sam, Tara, and the rest of their friend group with. But today, he had other plans.

He creeped to your rich boyfriend's house, seeing you in bed reading a book in the window. You were listening to god knows what with your airpods, bopping your head to the music while highlighting pages of the book. He gave your phone a ring, and he watched you doubled tap the earbud to answer. "Hello?" You asked with that sweet voice of yours he relished in. "Hello y/n," he asked using the voice changer. "Hi!" You respond bubbly and obliviously.

"Watcha listening to?" He asked huskily. "Ariana Grande," you giggled out. "Who's this?" You ask the mystery caller. "Oh only your biggest fan," he replied, voice smooth. "I look forward to seeing you every game, you're my favorite." You blush at his creepy compliment, continuing to annotate the quotes in the book. "Thank you, I work hard. But seriously.. who are you?" You repeat.

He chuckles to himself, "What? You want to see me? Want me to show myself?" You shake your head giggling, unaware of the danger coming your way. "No, I just need your name." You said.

"Need," he repeated. "Y'know what I need at a time like this? A warm cunt I can stretch out," he groaned. Bewildered, you check your phone to see who called, no caller ID. "Uh, what?" You awkwardly chuckled, growing uncomfortable.

"You're a virgin, right y/n?" He asked. You nodded, unaware you were being watched, but you did it subconsciously anyways. "You ever thought about it? Getting fucked by a cock?" He asked through the phone. "Of course I have. But it's never been the right time, y'know? I want my first time to be special."

As you spoke Ethan snuck his way into the house, making his way towards the room where you basked. "Trust me," he spoke, breath heavy. "It will be," he finished, stepping his way into your doorframe.

You screamed out, scared, shaking uncontrollably. "Oh my god! Get the fuck out I swear to god, my boyfriend will be back soon, and he will not be happy with you." He tilted his head, knife in hand. "And you think he's happy with you?" He asked, plunging onto the bed, mounting the top of you, struggling to hold you down. He started to graze the blade of the knife against your jaw. "Every weekend," he drags out, still using a voice changer through the mask. "He goes missing. He goes to the sorority house and knocks up a couple of sisters."

You tear at the news, not wanting to believe it. "You're lying!" You spit, trying to escape his grasp to no use. "No, doll. I am telling nothing but the truth." You reach up to try to pull the mask off to no use, he pinned your arms down onto the bed. He sighs and gets up off of you, pointing the knife at you so you stay put.

He places a camera on the dresser, facing the bed. "What'd you say we get back at him, hm? We make him a little movie, and he see's how good I fuck you?" He said, climbing back onto the bed. You cry, "Please no." You shake your head with tears streaming down your red cheeks. "Please fucking yes," he mocks, reaching up your nightie.

You gasp when his gloved hands grasp your body, making their way up to your breasts making you whimper. "Your boyfriend ever touch you like this?" He asks. You shake your head a no in response, sniffling a little.

His hands moved down to your delicate lacy panties, slipping them off swiftly. You gasp as the cold hair hits your pussy. He takes the gloves off of his hands and tossed them onto the floor before toying with your folds. You weren't soaking but you were getting there, wetness dripping out of your pussy.

He attempted to slip a finger inside but you were so goddamn tight. You whined having nothing ever been in there before, not even a tampon. He finally got one in and you moaned out, kicking your foot a little. "Easy," he whispered, trying to make room for another finger. You were much wetter on the inside then out. "Please, if you want to live just s-stop. My boyfriend will actually kill y-" You were cut off by your own moan when he slips in his second finger.

You moaned at his big fingers, extremely sensitive. "No, stop- Ethan," you moaned out. His face shot up when you said his name. You noticed his reaction. "You don't even have to hide it," you said breathily, chest heaving. "I've never told anyone I'm a virgin." With that he slips the mask off, revealing his cute but devilish face and sweaty curls. He bit his lip and curled his fingers deeper inside you making you screech.

You shook your head a no as you felt yourself grow close, but your body was going against your protests, molding itself against his touch. "Ethan please s-stop," you pleaded as your thighs started to clench. Your hips completely contradicted your words, bucking into his fingers before letting out a final scream and secreting fluids onto his fingers and your sheets. He inhales before leaning down and sucking your clit, extending your high.

You huff and puff, chest rising and falling. Ethan pops off of your clit and goes for your lips, kissing you. You don't kiss back, trying to retract your lips as much as possible. You couldn't deny he was a good kisser, but he broke into your house and fingered you against your will, and made you orgasm.

"Come on, baby," he grunts into the kiss. "You can't deny I'm the best you've ever had." You shake your head when he finally pulls away. "You're the only I've ever had! Please Ethan, I love my boyfriend, I don't want this." You cry, but he keeps groping you through your dress anyways, making you throb again. "Well maybe I don't care what you want. I care what your cunt does." He says, kissing at your neck as he continues to toy with your heavy, cloth covered tits.

Your nipples grew perky and you moaned as he sucked on that sweet spot on your neck. He left a mark on your neck and pulled away, then he started to pull down his pants. After that he took off the whole costume, leaving him naked on your bed. "You look so sexy in that dress, but you're going to have to take it off." You shook your head a no. "No?" He mocks. He picked up his knife from the side. "Guess I'll have to cut it off." Your eyes grow wide, not wanting to ruin the expensive gift from your boyfriend. "No!" You yell, stopping his actions. "I'll take it off," you say weakly, pulling it over your head.

"Good girl," he cooed. "God you're beautiful." He groans, pumping himself in his hand, eyeing your pretty, dainty tits. "Come on, try it," he urged, guiding your hand to his length. You wrapped around him perfectly, hand more gentle than his own. He groaned as you jerked him, feeling disgusted with yourself. On your boyfriends bed, giving your econ partner a handjob.

He groaned and grew more desperate, needing to be inside of you more than anything. He removed your hand from him. "Turn around," he spoke, motioning you to face the headboard. You choked on tears, complying worriedly. He pushes your face into your pillow and guides your ass up. He grabs the knife and grazes it along your back, making your spine shiver.

"Ethan please, we can forget about this, I swear." You beg, but it doesn't stop him. Ethan teases your opening with his tip making your mouth agape. You involuntarily start to push back against him, scooting your ass back to meet his cock. "Slut," he remarks, slapping your ass cheek leaving it a bright red.

He grips your ass with his hands, making you suck in air a little, before he pushes in a little more than the tip. You groan at the stretch, face contorting uncomfortably. He let you adjust a little, only using the tip for a solid minute. "Ethan please stop, it hurts s'much," you whined. "Hurts? I'm not even halfway," he chuckled out, continuing to fuck you with his thick, pink tip. You cried, stomach bubbling up from the stimulation.

Your wetness seeped onto his cock, making it easier for him to ease his way all the way in, slamming his hips against your ass making you bite your pillow, screaming into it. "That's it," he whispered, slowly thrusting in and out of you. You moaned into the pillow, arching your back.

He grunted and started to get rougher, slamming his hips against yours, every thrust making the bed frame hit the wall. He gripped your hair and pulled your head out of the pillow, your face covered with tears. You moaned, gripping the sheets behind you while taking him from the back. You felt yourself getting close again, stomach tightening as you felt the sensation of having to piss. He felt you clench around his length and whispered in your ear, "Cum on my fucking cock, slut."

In response to his words you screamed out as you came around his cock, leaving a creamy ring around his base. He let go of your hair, letting you collapse back onto the bed. He continued to hold your ass up, continuing to hit it roughly, groaning at every one of your throbs. You started to salivate a little against the pillow due to your excessive whines.

He wiped the sweat off of his forehead while panting, getting close. His thrusts through sloppy and less uniformed. "Gonna breed this pussy, and you're gonna wish I was in you every second of every fucking day," he spat out, huffing and not being able to hold back any longer. With a final thrust, he came deep in your cunt, shooting spurt after spurt inside you. After he pulled out, his cum dripped out of you followed by the sound of flatulence.

You laid there and didn't even realize how much time has passed. Ethan disappeared through your window that was now open with his camera with everything documented. Through the window, you saw lights of a car, and soon your boyfriend stumbled in, eyeing your cum dripping cunt.

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leidensygdom · 1 month

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AI bros from hell

Hello! Do you have a bit of your time for a story on AI bros and clients from hell? I bring a really fun one!

I met this guy at a con I was tabling at over a year ago, before AI was a thing. He said he enjoyed my art, and inquired me about whether I did book illustrations. I said yes- He was specifically interested in my bigger pieces, the fully rendered and detailed ones. He agreed to send me later a DM to discuss specifics.

For two weeks, he kept DMing me on details about his book, what he wanted, etc. He wanted full illustrations for inside the book as well as a cover, all of them fully colored, painted and rendered. He also wanted illustrations in this style to post on social media to promote the book. I had warned him that something like that would be costly, but he insisted that he needed this to be the best of the best.

Now, I was getting bad vibes from the guy. I shit y'all not, his instagram handle was "The next tolkien". I wasn't however gonna refuse a job opportunity. Now, he finally asked for prices: He had reassured me he was willing to pay fairly for this. Since he's a starting author, I gave him my non-commercial quotes, which are much, much, much lower than the standard for book illustrations. I mean "if you search for how much this costs on google, the lower prices are x5 times more expensive than what I offered".

The guy, upon receiving that, just ghosted me. Immediately unfollowed, didn't reply me with a "sorry, I can't afford it" or "sorry, i was expecting to pay $10 for a full rendered full background several-characters-picture". Nothing.

The other day I decided to search what he was up to. He's now released... THREE books for this series. There's a single review in the first one. Not even written, just a stars one. Also, notably, he had a webpage put together promoting the book, and. Yeah.

All the art is AI crap.

Which makes sense. My guy was very on his high horse about how fantastic of a writer he is, but I guess art isn't really to be compensated fairly. When he saw the "art stealing machine you just pay a subscription for", I'm guessing he was very excited.

So, uh, here's some of the marvelous pictures he generated of the characters, which surely tell you about how great the book is. AI is theft, so I don't give a f*** about reposting it.

I have a lot of opinions about creators who write, draw or make music, who are more than happy to use AI for other stuff- Album covers made with AI, writers using AI crap for book illustrations, artists using AI-made music. It feels like you're sh*tting in any other artistic field and showing how little you respect anyone but yourself. Like, I'll be honest, I don't have interest reading a book from someone who considers that other forms of art aren't real or worth any money. It just tells me you're devoid of any interest for art or humanity.

As an ending note, his instagram description is "More closer to god than to human", which does add to the clownery.

#anti ai #clients from hell #long story #long post #ai bros

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hollowed-theory-hall · 2 months

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Harry Potter is Really Magically Powerful

So, in continuation to this post, and my desire to show some love to Harry James Potter, this post is dedicated to showing how magically powerful Harry actually is in the books — which is insanely powerful. Harry doesn't think of himself as a great wizard, but he is — definitely powerful enough to be Voldemort's equal (and Dumbledore's for that matter).

Under the cut are some quotes from the books that prove this.

Accidental Magic

Let's start with Harry's childhood accidental magic. Tom was considered prodigious for being able to steal things with magic and make animals obey him intentionally. Neville, as a late bloomer, bounced when thrown, which is the bare minimum of childhood accidental magic young witches and wizards should be doing.

Now he came to think about it…every odd thing that had ever made his aunt and uncle furious with him had happened when he, Harry, had been upset or angry…chased by Dudley’s gang, he had somehow found himself out of their reach…dreading going to school with that ridiculous haircut, he’d managed to make it grow back…and the very last time Dudley had hit him, hadn’t he got his revenge, without even realizing he was doing it? Hadn’t he set a boa constrictor on him?

(Philosopher's Stone, page 44)

Harry has:

Apparated out of Dudley's reach when in danger to get away - advanced magic only allowed to practice from the age of 16!

Growing back all his hair from not liking the bad haircut.

Disappearing the glass of the Boa Constrictor case and leashing it

not even when he’d had to take a school report home to the Dursleys saying that he’d somehow turned his teacher’s wig blue.

(Philosopher's Stone, page 84)

4. Turning his teacher's hair blue.

We see Harry is capable of aparation, transfiguration, and various charms at a level that is considered prodigious. Harry was incredibly advanced as a child according to his feats of magic before even knowing magic was real. And while he wasn't as intentional as Tom, he was aware enough to know odd things happened when he was "furious or upset" that the odd things responded to him.

Intuitive Casting

I wrote later in this post about this, but I do want to write a whole essay about how magic works in the Wizarding world, but like, really in short, emotion and intention matter in magic. A lot.

And we see Harry make use of this fact to great effect. Using spells with intention to change the way they behave and they work for him because of how magically prodigious he is.

Harry raised his own wand. “Protego!” Snape staggered; his wand flew upward, away from Harry — and suddenly Harry’s mind was teeming with memories that were not his — a hook-nosed man was shouting at a cowering woman, while a small dark-haired boy cried in a corner. . . . A greasy-haired teenager sat alone in a dark bedroom, pointing his wand at the ceiling, shooting down flies. . . . A girl was laughing as a scrawny boy tried to mount a bucking broomstick — “ENOUGH!” Harry felt as though he had been pushed hard in the chest; he took several staggering steps backward, hit some of the shelves covering Snape’s walls and heard something crack. Snape was shaking slightly, very white in the face.

(Order of the Phoenix, page 591)

This is from the last of Harry's and Snape's Occlumancy lessons. What's interesting here is that from Snape's words, it seems the protego spell isn't supposed to work like that. Harry is magically powerful enough to make protego (shield charm) to defend him from Legilamancy, turn the Legilamancy onto Snape and disarm Snape.

No wonder Snape is shocked, it really isn't supposed to work. Unless you're Harry Potter, that is.

He did say in their first lesson the rules of magic don't seem to apply to Harry.

“Reparo!” hissed Snape, and the jar sealed itself once more. “Well, Potter . . . that was certainly an improvement. . . .” Panting slightly, Snape straightened the Pensieve in which he had again stored some of his thoughts before starting the lesson, almost as though checking that they were still there. “I don’t remember telling you to use a Shield Charm . . . but there is no doubt that it was effective. . . .”

(Order of the Phoenix, page 591)

What I marked here is the fact in all their occlumancy lessons, even the first, Snape always placed a few memories in the pensive. He chose memories he didn't want Harry to see and place them there.

Okay... so why is that a big deal?

Snape repeatedly belittles Harry's magical skills, and yet, he fears Harry would turn the Legilemancy connection back on him. Legilemancy as Snape explained is no easy skill:

“Only Muggles talk of ‘mind reading.’ The mind is not a book, to be opened at will and examined at leisure. Thoughts are not etched on the inside of skulls, to be perused by any invader. The mind is a complex and many-layered thing, Potter . . . or at least, most minds are. . . .” He smirked. “It is true, however, that those who have mastered Legilimency are able, under certain conditions, to delve into the minds of their victims and to interpret their findings correctly...”

(Order of the Phoenix, pages 350-351)

As such, he doesn't expect Harry to be capable of it. But that’s a lie. He clearly thinks Harry is skilled enough to be a threat in this situation. That Harry just might be able to turn this around and glimpse his own memories, which is no easy feat.

And Snape is many things, but stupid isn't one of them. If he thinks Harry is uniquely magically prodigious to be capable of this, then Harry probably is. Especially considering how much Snape hates Harry and how much he'd rather think he's stupid, useless, and unskilled.

“SHE KILLED SIRIUS!” bellowed Harry. “SHE KILLED HIM — I’LL KILL HER!” And he was off, scrambling up the stone benches. People were shouting behind him but he did not care. The hem of Bellatrix’s robes whipped out of sight ahead and they were back in the room where the brains were swimming. . . . She aimed a curse over her shoulder. The tank rose into the air and tipped. Harry was deluged in the foul-smelling potion within. The brains slipped and slid over him and began spinning their long, colored tentacles, but he shouted, “Wingardium Leviosa!” and they flew into the air away from him. Slipping and sliding he ran on toward the door.

(Order of the Phoenix, page 809)

Okay, so can we talk about this Levitation Charm? Please?

Like, get this, he uses Wingardium Leviosa, like a shield charm that sends multiple magical projectiles away from him. This isn't how this charm works, but it is if you're Harry Potter. (again, this is that intention use I mentioned)

The point is, that Harry is magically powerful enough to bend the way spells are meant to work to fit his will and situation.

And when Voldemort possesses him at the end of the fight in Order of the Phoenix:

He was gone from the hall, he was locked in the coils of a creature with red eyes, so tightly bound that Harry did not know where his body ended and the creature’s began. They were fused together, bound by pain, and there was no escape — And when the creature spoke, it used Harry’s mouth, so that in his agony he felt his jaw move. . . . “Kill me now, Dumbledore. . . .” Blinded and dying, every part of him screaming for release, Harry felt the creature use him again. . . . “If death is nothing, Dumbledore, kill the boy. . . .” Let the pain stop, thought Harry. Let him kill us. . . . End it, Dumbledore. . . . Death is nothing compared to this. . . . And I’ll see Sirius again. . . . And as Harry’s heart filled with emotion, the creature’s coils loosened, the pain was gone, Harry was lying facedown on the floor, his glasses gone, shivering as though he lay upon ice, not wood. . . .

(Order of the Phoenix, page 816)

Harry kicks Voldemort out.

As I mentioned, I have a a whole theory I'm drafting about magical theory and how magic works in the Wizarding World, but emotion as Harry describes in this scene is part of it. Emotion drives childhood accidental magic. Emotion is required to cast the Patronus charm and any of the unforgivable. Because of how emotion is tied to magic in this world, this instance is Harry's magic kicking Voldemort in his full power out of his mind.

Which is an impressive feat of magic.

Advanced Charmwork

“Oh — yeah —” said Harry, quickly forcing his thoughts back to that first broom ride. “Expecto patrono — no, patronum — sorry — expecto patronum, expecto patronum —” Something whooshed suddenly out of the end of his wand; it looked like a wisp of silvery gas. “Did you see that?” said Harry excitedly. “Something happened!”

(Prisoner of Azkaban, page 238)

This is the first time Harry cast a Patronus Charm. On his very first try of this complex charm, most adult wizards fail at — he succeeds. It isn't a perfect casting. His happy memory isn't happy enough, but the problem isn't Harry's skill.

The fact he succeeded in casting it at all with how crap his life has been up to this point is a testament to his magical talent.

Hatred rose in Harry such as he had never known before. He flung himself out from behind the fountain and bellowed “Crucio!” Bellatrix screamed. The spell had knocked her off her feet, but she did not writhe and shriek with pain as Neville had — she was already on her feet again, breathless, no longer laughing.

(Order of the Phoenix, page 810)

Harry, at age fifteen, casts the Cruciatus Curse for the first time. An advanced piece of dark magic that is tricky to cast. Sure, it wasn't the best cast Crucio, but it did work.

It did land.

It worked enough for Bellatrix to stop laughing and start taking Harry seriously.

Harry raised the hawthorn wand beneath the cloak, pointed it at the old goblin, and whispered, for the first time in his life, “Imperio!” A curious sensation shot down Harry’s arm, a feeling of tingling, warmth that seemed to flow from his mind, down the sinews and veins connecting him to the wand and the curse it had just cast.

(Deathly Hollows, page 452)

Like with the Cruciatus Curse, Harry succeeds in the Imperius curse on his first try (and the second try that happens immediately after). In general, Harry learns to cast most spells (even the advanced ones) incredibly quickly — like, on his first try. That's insane!

As Amycus spun around, Harry shouted, “Crucio!” The Death Eater was lifted off his feet. He writhed through the air like a drowning man, thrashing and howling in pain, and then, with a crunch and a shattering of glass, he smashed into the front of a bookcase and crumpled, insensible, to the floor. “I see what Bellatrix meant,” said Harry, the blood thundering through his brain, “you need to really mean it.”

(Deathly Hollows, page 502)

And he gets better over time, both with the Cruciatus Curse, as we see here and his fully corporeal Patronus which is considered an unbelievable feat for a fifteen-year-old:

“Your Patronus had a clearly defined form? I mean to say, it was more than vapor or smoke?” “Yes,” said Harry, feeling both impatient and slightly desperate, “it’s a stag, it’s always a stag.” “Always?” boomed Madam Bones. “You have produced a Patronus before now?” “Yes,” said Harry, “I’ve been doing it for over a year —” “And you are fifteen years old?” “Yes, and —” “You learned this at school?” “Yes, Professor Lupin taught me in my third year, because of the —” “Impressive,” said Madam Bones, staring down at him, “a true Patronus at that age . . . very impressive indeed.”

(Order of the Phoenix, page 141)

I agree Madam Bones, Harry is impressive and is Voldemort's equal magically. Harry isn't just Expelliarmos. he's clever and talented and very magically capable with every spell he tries his hand in.

#harry potter #harry potter thoughts #harry potter theory #hollowedtheory #hp theory #wizarding world #overthinking #harry james potter #harry potter analysis #I just really love harry james potter

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f-t-e · 6 months

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I started watching SUPERNATURAL in November 2020. I know, I know. My partner and I had been isolating alone since March. The timing felt right. I went though a wild amount of upheaval and trauma over the next year and SPN was there for me through it all. It was THE show at THE time and it kept me afloat when I needed it the most. Since November 2021 I've written just about 110,000 words of SPN fanfic, a number that seems unbelievable to me, and that too has been a real blessing to my creative life, no matter what haters say. (why didn't I write my own novels in that time? Because I have a hobby, Karen, and I love it.) And I've read about 500000x that much fanfic, which has been the biggest blessing of all. (ETA: oh right, if you want to read my fic, you can find my stuff here, I wrote a fic where Dean reads books. Lots of books.)

I know I'm a nobody in this fandom but I thought on this, our #DestielDay, I would submit my own humble rec list. I've curated this very deliberately: every fic here has just about 4000 hits or less (most under 3000) and all were published in 2020 or after. So, sort of a rec list for some lesser known and newer fics, something you maybe haven't stumbled on yet. Especially thank you to @jewishcharliebradbury, her rec lists gave me a place to start back in the day and I have tried to model the depth and quality they brought to their lists. I tried to link to everyone's tumblr, but if I missed one, let me know.

Most of all, thank you to everyone who has EVER created something for this fandom, from 2005 to 2023. I am so thankful and, honestly, honored to be among your number. You're not supposed to be cringe and say a show saved your life...but SUPERNATURAL saved me, it really did. See y'all when the movie/reboot drops, to quote Ryan Gosling in The Notebook: IT WASN'T OVER, IT STILL ISN'T OVER. And I'm glad.

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Finale Fix-It & S15 and Beyond

What The Moon Was Saying by Amiril (@runawaymarbles)

This is hands-down one of the coolest “Dean Rescues Cas from the Empty” fics I have ever read and the concept is brilliantly structured to mirror the literal and metaphorical things Dean needs to give up and let go to get free. Every scenario is very satisfying and they make sense, is there any better feeling? Dean is very open in this, but in a believable way that still has edges. And, oh, the reunion is so good. Plus all the family stuff. Just excellent, exactly what you want in a fic like this: lovely, well-written, smart, fulfilling, all the pieces clicking, the show but better.

Awake and Annoying by skycruise

I love the use and passage of time in this one, it has some real impact, and I love the way Dean gets into the Empty (so smart, fits just right) and what I REALLY love in this one is the way it lets Dean be really clear-eyed and honest about his relationship with Sam, both the strengths and the weaknesses. And the last line, very clever and moving inverse of one of fandom’s favorite things.

Living the life you chose by allthismusic

THEEEEE post finale Sam Winchester-Outsider-POV this fandom needs. Sam is absolutely awesome in this, the most believable, loving, realistic mix of “I knew all along” and “I had no idea” versions of Sam, landing somewhere I think that’s really true and in character. It fills in and develops so many gaps and silences in what the show let Sam know in the absolute best way. Best Brother Sam is a weakness of mine and he really shines here, there for Dean in the best ways but also coming into his own, I love it so very much. (this author also has a very great 2022 Big Bang fic, hugely recommend that one too.)

your ear to the wound that whispers by EmandFandems (@lazarusemma)

Who doesn’t love a HANDPRINT FIC?!? And boy this is such a good one. It follows Dean and his thoughts on the handprint from the first touch all the way to fixing the finale and it simply buzzes with longing and desire, tenderness and rawness. It’s great insight in lot of ways into Dean’s journey. It’s short but fulfilling and oh that very perfect last line. (this author also has a lot of great Jupernatural content.)

Somewhere Off in the Dark by magickastiel

Another awesome fic that traces Dean’s shifting/growing feelings for Cas from when he shows up in his hotel rooms to a HEA fix it after canon. Dean, again, is handled so deftly in this one, his confusion and sorrow at all the times Cas is slipping away from him all the way through the things he won’t let himself know. He feels really true in this one, sharp and tender in the best Dean ways. Also it has an agonizingly romantic end, you love to end up there.

Pins and Feathers by theskywasblue (@buttherewasnogod)

This author has so many freaking good SPN fics, omg it was almost impossible to pick just one to include on this list. Go treat yourself with their entire list because there’s so much good stuff there! But this one, oh I am a sucker for a finale fix-it that lets Dean be this tender. While I LOVE fics where he just jumps right into Cas’s arms (and write them lol) I also feel like this is so true to Dean too: that “maybe I misunderstood, maybe I shouldn’t say anything, maybe he doesn’t still –” And on top of all that, it’s a “they go the beach” fic and it gets the details of it so right, sand in your toes and all. Tender, amazing slow-burn, real, hot, full of heart and longing and everything unspoken and just waiting. Very satisfying!

i loved you first by kalmialatifolia

A set of four short fics that create an entire world of feeling and emotion. These feel like little whispered stories told under the covers, very atmospheric. There’s one very sexy one, a haircutting one (so good) and they’re just intimate. All together a great set and did I mention they’re in the “Cas saves himself” genre which is mmmm an underrated treasure.

no other faith is light enough for this place by anonymous

A fix-it fic that has a particularly unique and beautiful visual of both how and why Cas comes back. The mechanics behind it are fairly standard but the way this author creates the visual of it, the sheer emotion and force behind it and how it happens, it really stood out to me and stuck with me. It’s Dean being brave enough to really feel and the way that just blossoms – lovely, aching, full-tilt wonderful.

no proof, one touch by TakeThisWaltz (@watchinghimrakeleaves)

One thing I absolutely cannot get enough of is fic where Cas is hiding out from Dean in heaven. It just hits. And the only thing better is Dean chasing him down and the WAY he does it in this fic, methodically and – well the method (sobs) it is so endearing and OBVIOUS and gives Dean a chance to shout in all the best ways. This one is just real sweet and kind of goofy and if they have to be in heaven, I want them to still be these same two dorks.

Stay by redbrickrose

This is a post S15x18 from Cas’s POV and I think it’s very true to where he would be in the moment of getting yanked out of the Empty: resigned, hesitant about what he has in front of him, still a little in shock. And then. And then. Sweet and simple and Dean gets a chance to say, say, say it. This author has a good post series AU and a lovely little spate of S15 codas, all good. And then wrote this in real-time in the week after 15x18 Despair and right before 15x19 Inherit the Earth aired (could you just sob over the possibilities?!) and then hasn’t wrote anything since and that’s a shame but, like, yeah I get it.

like a one-two punch by Muir_Wolf (@muirmarie)

Don’t you love a short fic that feels like it’s a whole novel? This goes AU after 14x20 Moriah but it is a truly delightful twist on how Chuck could’ve reacted there and it makes Dean sharp as a knife, which is one really resonant image woven through this fic. Great imagery here and so many clever solutions for the lazy plotting of S15, including simply one of my all-time favorites in any fic ever solutions to Cas’s deal (genius) and getting rid of Chuck. Brilliant like a puzzle box yet still full of so much fucking joy.

maybe i like pleasure pain by tothewillofthepeople (@kvothes)

The fact that this was written in October 2023 and is so agonizingly good fills my heart with joy and tells me Destiel will never die lol. Cas, in particular, is great in this – he’s having a hard time adjusting to being in a body and with all the fuzz of the world. I love fics where Cas struggles with coming back from the Empty and this uses a really unique approach to it: Cas facing sensory overload and not knowing how to feel but wanting it all. Lovely, hot, Dean is just right in this too.

Earlier Canon (pre S15)

Proverbs 13:12 by starlingcas (@angelcasendgame)

Many might say I am biased because Renu has beta’ed everything I have written in the SPN fandom and they can read my brain and make everything I write better. But it’s not just that. Renu has done something beautiful and delicate in this fic, which is about Dean and Cas getting trapped in a net together (forced proximity trope, yes please) and weaves a web of its own; pulling you in just as they are pulled together. This is set mostly in early S14 (before fixing the finale in the most heart-healing way) and captures that feeling so well. There’s so much that’s unsaid between them yet still conveyed and Renu absolutely nails that, along with the tender longing that was always there. This is a fic to relish.

you may tire of me (as our december sun is setting) by deludedfantasy

You know how the show just sometimes is like “uh so anyway uh then Cas…uh…left.” and it just doesn’t make one lick of sense? FINALLY FINALLY a fic where Dean says “I’ll go with you,” and then goes because he actually would do that. This is a post Tombstone fic so it is exactly where/when he WOULD go and it is tender and hesitant and aching in just all the ways it would be between the two of them at this time. It’s about needing to keep someone in sight, it’s about having another chance to say something so important, it’s slow and soft and just right for the characters in this place. I could read this one about 100 times.

the anatomy of flightless birds by cowlovely (@dollhousemary)

This fic is basically the way you feel when you get all cozy and snug underneath your favorite blanket. This is a domestic-life-in-the Bunker S9 fic where everyone behaves like they are in character and not just like they have to get Cas off screen because the writers panicked. You’ll just want to curl up in this fic and savor it the way you wrap your fingers around a hot beverage on a very cold day, there’s no better way to describe it.

virtue by JenTheSweetie

I think I’ve read this about 100 times and it still gets me everytime? It’s a five things fic about Dean and Cas hooking up and it’s all you’ve ever wished for. This is set in an amorphous S8 and it is not just agonizingly hot but also romantic and very funny. It feels really in character! Sam is hilarious, Dean is clueless but bowled over and letting himself be swept up, Cas is delighting in every second and smarter than he lets on and it ALL feels fated and lovely and sexy and just splendid. (this author only has 3 SPN fics but they are all so good and if you try sometimes, well you just might find is an absolutely brilliant deconstruction of Dean learning the differences between “needing” and “wanting.”)

Romance at the Motel 6 by shelia_amour

This fic makes me feel like Stefon from SNL. This fic has everything: Cas and Sam pretending to be married, just the right amount of jealous Dean, Dean randomly pretending to be married to Cas, Dean realizing maybe this isn’t so fake after all, motel vibes, Cas in Dean’s clothes, Cas getting bee slippers. If you are not sold on this already, we are very different people. So good, aches just right. (set in a kind of “whenever” of canon, but I like to put it somewhere in S8.)

que sera sera by Purple_Starflower (@hauntedpearl)

The epitome of how fanfic unfolds for us all the things that COULD happen. You can’t PROVE to me Dean and Cas never snuck off to snuggle and feed Dean’s touch-starvation early in S13. I had to check when I finished because I just couldn’t believe this fic was under 4000 words because it feels so full of touch, longing, the things unspoken, and all the ways Dean was reaching, reaching, reaching. The best kind of ache, and everything by this author is lovely.

the hard edge that you’re settling for by lesspopped (@trekkiedean)

This is some S10 Demon!Dean that made my stomach hurt and my heart ache and I absolutely loved it and I absolutely hated it and it all felt so REAL with who Demon!Dean was and could have been. There’s a TW for mildly dubious consent in this, but to me, Cas was so agonizingly true to who he was/where he was at this point in canon too. This fic is gloriously, claustrophobically intimate. I say unbearable because as a reader you know that this closeness, this intimacy, is what Dean wants/craves/deserves but can only give himself as a demon and the author does an exquisite job at getting all that across. Hurts so good!

four of swords by sundryvillians (eurythmix) (@perenial)

Can the world ever have enough post 12x12 fic? The answer is, of course, no. Dean and Cas bake bread and in the soft space of creating something with their own hands, get so close to the words Cas said. It’s about healing and anger and making something just because you are so tired of everything breaking. If that alone isn’t enough to convince you, let me also throw in this is another one of those “possible off-screen moments in canon” that gives them something honest and tender and raw and it feels so very possible.

Fifteen Prayers From the Faithless by koyas_cat

Short, achy, that sweet sting. A set of prayers for Cas from the beginning to the end, full of all the things Dean doesn’t let himself say outloud and just reflecting the changes in their connection over alllll the years. So good.

#spn #spn fanfic #destiel fic #fic recs #destiel day #deancas fic recs #supernatural #destiel #happy anniversary #don't forget you're here forever

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writing-in-the-impala · 4 months

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Secret Smokes (Part 7)

Pairing: Teacher! Remus Lupin x Reader

Series Summary: When the reader bumps into the new DADA professor on the bridge in Hogwarts she begins to build a friendship with him all thanks to their shared feeling of not belonging and love for muggle cigarettes. Their friendship blooms while they both fight internal battles deciding what is wrong and what is right leading to a lot of fluff, angst, flirting and a rollercoaster of emotions.

Warnings: Swearing, Drinking, teacher-student relationship, Slowburn, angst, jealousy, fluff

Word Count: 2681

A/N: Where's the update? You promised it on Sunday? Well, happy Tuesday I've been busy.

| SERIES MASTER LIST (All chapters) |

Previous Chapter, Part 7, Next Chapter

On Monday morning you received an OWL from Lupin once again. "Please remember about your tutoring lesson this evening and about your DADA classes this week. R.Lupin." You looked up from the note and saw Lupin was already looking at you while having a discussion with Hagrid who was sitting beside him, Lupin's eyes were fixed on you even when he spoke, you gave him a gentle smile and he smiled back still not looking away.

You attended Lupin's class as you were instructed to, he was quite active in the lesson waving his arms around like he used to. It seemed like he had regained some of the charismatic energy that defined him as a teacher. After your classes that day you went to his classroom for your tutoring and he wasn't in the room you called out "Professor?" And you could hear him upstairs in the office you stood on the bottom of the stairs and heard him shout back. "Y/N, I'm making tea would you like anything?"

"Uh no I'm okay thank you." You replied stunned by his pleasant behaviour. Not that Lupin wasn't usually this well-mannered, he was with literally everyone that's why his recent actions towards you hurt so much.

"Very well." He said coming down the stairs with his own mug, now wearing a sweater rather than his blazer like in your lesson earlier in the day, the spoon inside the mug was stirring by itself with wand-less magic. "Now I wanted to begin work on your Patronus Charm however due to your absence for the last two weeks today we're going to have to catch up on the lessons you missed." He said opening the theory book.

"That's so not fair." You stated in a huff.

"I promise I'll make this quick, and at the end we can duel to see if you remember everything I taught you." He said in a gentle tone sipping on his tea.

"So I can beat you and show you how I don't need your theory?" You asked and he laughed gently.

"If you can knock my wand out of my hand you can choose what we study on Wednesday. Now let's begin how familiar are you with werewolves." He now sat on a desk in front of you that had his book open while you sat on the table in front with yours closed. He was towering over you but you didn't feel intimidated.

"Very much, I hear they're really lovely, they wear warm sweaters but they get angsty around the full moon." You replied and he had a small smile forming on the edge of his lips.

"They don't get angsty around full moons." He stated trying not to laugh.

"They do." You said in an all-knowing voice.

"They don't."

"Well you've obviously never met one."

"Werewolves don't get angsty around the full moon." He said using air quotes around the word angsty.

"So it's just a you thing?" You asked and he just broke out laughing and put his face in his palms. What you didn't know is nothing warmed Lupin's heart more than someone being able to laugh at his condition, he always felt like people either feared him or feared the subject like it was some secret that could never be talked about with anyone except the marauders, you made him feel normal, but you also confused him more than anyone he's ever met.

He realised at the three broomsticks that he's gotten too close to you, not only that but you were developing feelings for him and he knew he had to do something to stop it, you were just a girl yes you may be 18 but not only are you his student but he's a werewolf and that means that anyone who would ever be in a relationship with him would be cursed with a life of suffering. So he did the only thing he knew he could do, push you away but he kept an eye on you and the more he missed you the more it hurt him to watch you be so okay to the point you didn't show up to his lessons or the bridge anymore. He had his own updated version of the old marauders map which he checked every evening to see if you would go to the bridge at first you did but after a few days you didn't even try and he didn't blame you it was exactly what he knew was right. But his loneliness grew, and he left Hogwarts over the weekend to visit Sirius he nearly told him about you but he was too conflicted this was an issue he had to deal with alone, his method of cutting you out was working the only thing left to figure out is getting you to pass DADA without coming to lessons.

His plan failed when on Sunday evening during his turn to patrol the corridors he heard you and Sebastian taking. Him diminishing your love for muggle books hurt Remus but hearing Sebastian calling you darling made even the wolf inside him jealous so he acted on instinct separating the two of you. Sebastian's words reminded Remus of his own pet name for you and it brought him back to the moment when he had you all hot and bothered, the moment he forgot all responsibilities for a second and allowed himself to feel a glimpse of what it would be like if he was normal man and he wasn't your teacher. Remus longed for that moment, it was all he thought about since. The feeling of your breath on his, your lips so close that he could lean in and kiss you, have you as he's wanted for so long. You weren't just beautiful but you were smart and so strong-willed, he knew your future was a bright one and he was never going to ruin it for you.

But what could he do? How can he push you away when you are so drawn to him, he was aware that you had a crush on him, obviously he wouldn't behave how he did at the three broomsticks if he wasn't sure of it but there had to be rules established soon if you were going to spend any more time together, he knew he should never share smokes on the bridge with you again and never call you dear but there was something inside him that hurt whenever he thought about that never happening again. Remus was a good guy he wasn't going to ruin your last year in Hogwarts by being selfish and longing for extra time to get to know you. You needed to be with people your own age like Sebastian...

"Professor?" Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts. "Are you okay you've gone silent for a minute?"

"I'm still trying to process you calling me angsty." He said with a soft smile pained by the truth of what he was thinking about.

"Wait you're a werewolf?" You asked with a fake gasp and he just shook his head at you in amusement. He proceeded to skim over the facts teaching you the basics over the next hour before closing the book and announcing. "It's time to see how your duelling skills are." Lupin motioned for you to stand and moved all the desks to the side of the room for a swish of his hands. "Now it's okay if you need a bit of time to warm up and practice I know we haven't done this in a few weeks." He began.

"I'm good let's go straight away." You interrupted and like that, the duel began. You began strong as his guard was down and then he began hitting back you continued and then you pulled a special spell you learnt in the duelling club as soon as you began to say the word Lupin disarmed you and quickly came and put his hand over your mouth. "You're about to use dark magic Y/N." He stated harshly before letting you go. "Now tell me exactly where you've learnt all this." He said sternly as you bent down to grab your wand, you could tell fun Lupin was gone and your teacher was talking to you.

"While studying I'm sorry I didn't know it was a-"

"Don't lie to me." He repeated, with the voice of disappointment, while looking down on you.

"The duelling club." You said without thinking of what will happen next.

"What duelling club." He was angry, very angry.

"The crossed wands or whatever it's a secret duelling club started by some Slytherin students to see who's the best at duelling in the school." You blurted out.

"Is this Sebastian's doing?"

"He's part of it yes but I've learnt so much, it's helped."

"Yes but also you've learnt dark magic, you're entering a realm of evil, real evil and you think this is just fun and games? You didn't even know did you?" You shook your head in reply to him. "I am reporting this to Dumbledor immediately." He was almost shouting but his voice wasn't any louder than a whisper.

"No don't they're my friends." You protested.

"Y/N you can't be using that kind of magic, not you. Please. You don't understand what this can cause, how evil it is. You are getting involved in dangerous things and they need to be stopped before more innocent students get involved."

"Please don't shut it down I'll be seen as a snitch, it's the first time I've made friends with people outside Gryffindor, let them have this until the end of the year."

"It's dangerous."

"Please moony as a friend." You said using the nickname you used before to try and get his sympathy, he shared his secret you shared yours would he keep yours? You didn't know this was the same nickname his friends used for him. These five words made him calm down and realise how much he values your happiness over what is right or wrong.

"Can you promise me you'll check spells you learnt there with me first before you use them?" He asked gently.

"Always."

"Very well, I'll pretended I didn't hear a word." He said walking over to his desk and picking up his blazer there to search for something in his pocket. He took out a pack of cigarettes and put on his blazer. "Now if you'll excuse me I have a urgent matter, you're welcome to join if you want to steal one." He said showing you the box and opening the classroom door to let you out. You followed him as you walked together in silence it felt like you needed to say something. The air was too thick.

"Can we go to the lake?"

"There won't be light bugs tonight." He said softly.

"I know I just want to go and sit down by the water."

"Let's go." He said changing the route. You walked outside up to the lake sitting down on the water's edge, Lupin lay his blazer down on the floor as a makeshift blanket. You could see the moonlight reflect on the water and everything felt peaceful and quiet for a moment. You saw the spark of Lupin's cigarette, you looked over at him and noticed he was using a lighter instead of magic. You grabbed a cigarette from his pack that was lying on the jacket in the small space between the two of you. You put it in your mouth and Lupin leaned slightly closer to you lighting it for you with his lighter one hand covering the side from the wind and the other on the lighter right next to your lips. No words were spoken. They didn't need to be you both understood everything perfectly at this moment. After a moment you finally said something.... "Lupin, can we please remain friends."

"We need clear boundaries." He said simply as if he had thought through his answer a million times.

"Yes, okay, I just don't want to spend another week ignoring each other, you really hurt me Lupin." You said being completely honest.

You could hear him swallow as if he's just realised that you were also hurt in the process of him trying to protect you... "I'm really sorry, I was trying to make sure we don't cross a line. I didn't think it would hurt you I thought it was the right thing to do Y/N." He spoke quietly almost a whisper.

"Don't do that again." You said feeling like crying, two weeks of emotions all about to release in this moment. "I felt like I lost someone I was truly connected with, a real friend."

"I know I felt the same, but Y/N we need to set rules we can't get so close to each other."

"Don't call me dear then."

"Okay dear." He said with a little smirk and you playfully pushed him away "shut up Lupin."

"On the same note when it's just us, and we're being just friends maybe just call me Remus. Lupin feels too formal, it makes me remember I'm your teacher."

"Remus. I like that. Now Remus you won't ignore me tomorrow after this conversation?"

"No Y/N, I will not. I acted impulsively, for that I am very sorry and for how I made you feel."

"I didn't like you for a moment when you were ignoring me but you're truly kind and good under all that angst."

"I'm not angsty." He said laughing again. You lay down on the grass and jacket instead of sitting up and watched as Remus sat up watching the water. You felt at peace maybe you will never fulfil your desire to kiss him and feel his lips on yours. Maybe you'll never know what it feels like to have his hands explore your body but at least you knew you could keep him as part of your everyday again and that he did maybe feel slightly attracted to you below all the proper behaviour and all the teacher like nonsense.

"Can I tell you something I've never told anyone?" He asked.

"Are you about to tell me you're angsty?" You replied sitting up to match his position, he smiled in response but didn't laugh this time.

"No, I, I really wish to see a full moon. To see what it looks like reflecting in the water, what the world looks like in its light." You could hear his voice breaking as he tried to keep a straight face. You didn't know what to do, your first reaction was just to hold him. So you hugged him and he hugged you back tightly. Neither of you thought about what was right or wrong you just hugged for a long time making sure he was okay. If you weren't sure already this vulnerability and honestly showed you how he felt about you, he did in fact trust you maybe more than anyone he's ever met before you.

After moments of silence, you both let go of each other and stayed there watching the water reflect the moonlight. Remus checked his watch and at that moment realised how late it's gotten. "Are you hungry?" He asked and you nodded. "Follow me, dinner is over but I can get some food from the kitchen sent to my office." He explained and you both returned to the castle.

As soon as you walked into the classroom it felt like he was back to Professor R.J. Lupin, he opened his office door and let you walk in first. You took in the room as you've never been up here usually speaking to him at his desk in the classroom. His desk here was covered in papers and books, a small plate acted as a ashtray for him laying on top of a pile of books. He immediately began to clean the desk picking up books and putting them back on the shelf he didn't use magic it's almost like he forgot he could. "Please sit down. I'm sorry for the mess I've been very busy recently." He explained you sat down in a nice leather chair behind the desk, it smelled like him, you felt like you almost melted into this chair as soon as you sat down on it. He performed wandless magic to pull up a small wooden chair to the desk and to sit opposite you. "Any preference in what food you'd like?" He asked and you shook your head. "Very well. Would you like any tea?" He asked standing back up and walking over to a kettle that was already brewing on the side. "Milk and two sugars please." You confirmed.

"I have a terrible habit of putting too much sugar in my tea, it started when I was around your age, I would put heaps of sugar in my tea because my condition made me so tired and I thought it would help give me energy. It did not. But it did help develop my sweet tooth." He said as he walked over with the teas at this moment the food magically appeared on the table, it was a platter of different nibbles from cheese to grapes and crackers. The two of you dug in while a vinyl record played in the background and your tea cooled to a drinking temperature. At first, you were so hungry that not many words were said but it didn't take long for the two of you to start talking and discussing different things you talked about, the main topic was muggle world vs wizarding world. You learned a lot about Remus's mother and his childhood in the muggle world. You must've sat and talked for at least two hours as by the time the food was only crumbs and your cups were completely empty you had a blanket wrapped around you for warmth and your eyes were struggling to stay open. When Remus realised the time was past midnight he kept apologising for keeping you awake and you kept telling him it was okay. Professor Lupin felt guilty for keeping you awake on a school night, and Remus felt sad you were about to leave. He walked you to your dorm so you wouldn't get in trouble in case a teacher saw you in the corridors, you thanked him for all the food and tea and then you said goodnight.

NEXT CHAPTER | More stuff I wrote

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@thesoundresoundsecho @ahoyyharrington @merleisapartygod @sting-0f-ennui @starchaser-lily @ashisabitgay @livingordeadwhoknows @v0relino @evie-beanie @whotfskai @admiringyou @lily-mylove @kirubi @ghostbandghostcodghostface @rockymiles @99tech99 @almizz1 @standepechemode @lovingdilfss @artvoyager @sofacover @bubblegum9468 @spidermansolosurfav

#remus lupin x reader #student x teacher #teacher! Remus Lupin #professor lupin x reader #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #remus lupin #the maruaders #harry potter #remus love you #secret smokes

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itsclydebitches · 11 months

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We've all rightly been gushing over Trent listening in on the parent-teacher conference and there are a lot of cool interpretations for why he'd eavesdrop: a crush on Ted, a tendency towards gossip (as seen in "International Break"), the fact that you just can't take the journalism out of the boy, Trent is clearly picking up personal tidbits for the book if the group's initial "Don't print that" worries are any indication, etc. So yeah, it's clear why he'd want/be okay with the door staying open.

Meanwhile, I'm slightly feral over Ted letting the door stay open and what that conveys to Trent.

Based on what we've picked up about his personal life and the direction of this season, we have good reason to believe that Trent was a deeply isolated man prior to Ted arriving. His job makes enemies simply by virtue of the profession itself, especially when you "bring the heat" as hard as he did. Roy flipping the press off at the gala in Season 1 and Nate sneaking out at dark this last episode shows us how journalists are treated on the regular: ignored, dismissed, told to "fuck off" as a matter of course. That's often well deserved, as Roy's two personal stories (Trent's article about him + the response to Isaac's attack) attest, but the end result is still a profession that alienates you from anyone other than your peers. When you're a "colossal prick" in your articles, people hate you all the more.

So Trent at least has other journalist buddies, yeah? Well, not that we've seen. I always think back to that chorus of "--The Independent" in the press room when everyone knew what Trent was going to say and how it... wasn't entirely fun ribbing. I think there's a fair bit of mockery there. Even if others disagree, I doubt that was received well by someone who wears their professionalism as an armor, who takes off his glasses as soon as they're complimented, who was, notably, closeted into his 40s. Trent is a man who is deeply aware of how others perceive him (pointing out his "vibe" feels quite calculated now: highlight what you want people to notice rather than waiting for them to find something on their own) and he is likely to read the worst of most interactions. Cue his shocked, "You really mean that, don't you?" when faced with someone like Ted who is not only genuinely nice, but blunt about it in a way that Trent can't misunderstand, or brush off via denial.

What's his home life like? Married to a woman when he's gay and that's putting a serious strain on them both. He tries to come out and isn't believed. The only other family members we know about are a toddler (who, while lovely I'm sure, can't provide Trent with the kind of emotional support an adult needs) and a father who, if we read the series through Lance's headcanons, may not have been very supportive of his son. Who else does Trent know? Uhhh... other subjects who hate him? Owners like Rebecca who want to use him? A random, potential date that he felt so little for he ditched to get a quote?

(EDIT: I can't believe I forgot to mention the strong implications that Ted was bullied in childhood/as a teenager, based on how he reacts to the whole of the club ignoring him -- resigned but unsurprised -- his reaction to Roy telling him to fuck off after he tries to mend that relationship -- disappointedly awkward "I can't believe I even tried that. What was I thinking?" -- and his body language during the locker room scene -- jumping, furtive glances towards Ted, backed up against the shower stall because shit, he's been in this situation before.

So uh, yeah. Trent may not have had a lot of friends growing up either! That was not the response of a social butterfly, but rather someone who is already very used to being ignored/dismissed/cursed out/threatened, not just within his profession, but within the school-like atmosphere of Richmond's family too.)

I'm by no means reinventing the meta wheel here, but Trent has truly undergone a STAGGERING transformation in Season 3 and the result of that is the reframing of his Season 1 and 2 scenes as, frankly, more depressing than they originally seemed. Seeing him now smiling, singing, gossiping, dressing just in t-shirts, casually snacking, making jokes, letting go enough to be a complete, hyperactive "dork" in front of others... it just hammers home how deeply unhappy Trent was before. How closed off. How closeted--in more ways than one.

So what must it mean to someone like Trent for Ted to leave the door open?

It's not just an open invitation towards community--sit near me, listen in, quietly participate, there's literally no barrier between us--but a staggeringly personal one too. I don't care if a 10-ish year old failing science is inconsequential in the grand scheme of things, the fact remains that letting anyone hear a parent-teacher conference with your ex is a hell of a show of trust. That would mean a lot to Trent in general, this acknowledgement that someone trusts the ex-prick journalist with that amount of personal information, but Ted in particular? Oh boy. Ted is the one Trent betrayed with that article! And yeah, Ted forgave him the instant he learned of it, but Trent himself was obviously feeling a lot of guilt, hence him burning his source and orchestrating a firing. Toss in the fact that Ted, despite being a VERY open man on the regular (I still laugh at his "I don't mind" to Rebecca when over-sharing about Michelle) has in fact denied Trent information in the past. No, I won't tell you that was a panic attack. Yes, I will continue the lie that it was food poisoning. Perhaps for Ted it was less about Trent knowing and more about anyone getting at the truth, but at the end of the day it amounts to the same: there was a time when Ted did not fully trust him and Trent justified that fear by writing the very article Ted was looking to avoid, even if Trent approached that situation with as much grace as he could.

So this moment, beyond the humor, just makes my brain go !!!!!! for Trent. Ted Lasso, of all people, has left the door open for Trent Crimm, also of all people, to hear the messy details of his, Henry, and Michelle's life. He is not at all afraid that this information will be spun in a bad light--Local Gaffer's Son Suffers While Father Plays at Coach Across the Pond--despite the fact that Trent is actively writing a book about him. Trent himself is so unguarded in this moment, dressed only in a t-shirt, playing around with his orange, making little quips. The Trent of Season 1 would NEVER. I mean, I think we see small glimpses of the real Trent back then, especially when Ted amuses him enough to coax his guard down for half a second (Trent's reaction to “Make like Dunst and Union and bring it on, baby!" comes to mind. That's a gesture we're seeing a lot now that he's comfortable around the club), but on the whole he was still so, so, so isolated. No one knew the real him: gay, funny, dorky, inquisitive, longing for companionship and using the artificial 'closeness' of journalism to cover that ache up.

Now? Trent is fully a part of the Richmond community and he knows he's a part of it because everyone--Ted, Beard, Roy, Colin, Rebecca--are going out of their way to tell him that, notably in very overt ways. Trent strikes me as someone who wouldn't fully believe it when he's told someone enjoys his company; the kind of wounded, anxiety-prone person who, if casually invited to participate, would assume they're just being polite and he'd actually be an annoyance to them. Trent needs overt, obvious, beat-you-over-the-head-with-it reassurance, which is why Ted is so very good for him because Ted is composed of THE most over-the-top positivity you've ever seen. (Compare that need of Trent's to Michelle thinking that Ted is too much...) When faced with a defensive journalist Ted says explicitly that he liked spending time with Trent. When faced with a still unsure writer who thinks of himself only as an observer--never a part of the team himself--Ted literally begs with monkey noises to hear Trent's opinions. He's blunt to the point of absurdity and someone like Trent who has likely spent the majority of his life hiding/being told that his true self is inadequate needs that level of constant, neon-light reassurance.

So Ted leaves the door open to a personal conversation, refusing to literally bar Trent from his life. The best part? Colin re-opens the door because he understands Trent and he knows his coach; of course Ted wants him included. Colin asks permission to CLOSE the door, not open it, and Trent is seeing this openness again and again over the course of several months, with each episode bringing him further out of his shell as he slowly unlearns that self-doubt. Yes, please stay, please tell us what you think, please offer your advice, please join our Diamond Dogs, please ask us questions (they're no longer perceived as a threat), please become an integral part of our lives. We trust you and we like you and we want you here.

Everyone's waiting for Trent to catch the door again because, you know, the rule of three, but what if he doesn't need to? What if he's past slipping a hand or a foot through the crack and scraping by on what that gets him? He caught the door before it could close to get closer to Colin. He caught the door before it could close to get closer to Ted. Now they've both kept the door open for him, his presence welcomed from the get-go.

Trent doesn't need to sprint for that opening anymore.

#Ted Lasso #Trent Crimm #Tedependent #ted x trent #mymetas

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overthinkinglotr · 1 year

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People keep insulting the Amazon Lord of the Rings show by comparing it to fanfiction when really it's the EXACT opposite of fanfiction! It's so interesting/awful because it's like the ultimate ANTI-fanfiction! I was talking to someone the other day and wasn't aware that lots of people don't know about the insane complicated rights issues happening behind the scenes of the Amazon Show but it's wild. To give a quick summary of the Battle of the Five Rights Issues, as I currently understand it: 1. Amazon only has the rights to make a show about the pre-LOTR era as described in the Lord of the Rings books-- primarily in the appendices of Return the King, where a handful of pages give a brief timeline of some events that happened before the stories. In practice this means they are unable to use nearly all of the characters, places, and events people are familiar with when they think about Middle Earth. They have to make up everything out of whole cloth-- from characters to events to settings. This is either because of timeline reasons or for legal reasons or for both. Whenever they do manage to scrounge up the rights to something you might even vaguely remember (like Mithril) they announce it with enormous fanfare like they're a marvel movie introducing an avenger.

(Parenthetical: Another weird thing I noticed is that the series features practically zero quotes from Tolkien. I only counted about like 4 lines that were edited versions of lines from the books? While this is just a wild tinfoil hat theory, It does feel to me like there might've been some kind of limitation on the amount of Tolkien's words they were allowed to use, as well as the obvious limitations on characters and plot points and etc. The show has the rights to so few things and always REALLY wants you to know when it has the rights to something. It's desperate to remind you of the original books. You would think that, when it's unable to rely on familiar characters or places or events or plot points or music or etc, they would rely instead on Tolkien's really recognizable prose/poetry/language to form an emotional connection to the original stories. After all, language is the heart of Middle Earth, the author's love of language is the reason the world was created, and the unique prose of the story is kinda the soul of why it's memorable. And again, they theoretically have the rights to everything mentioned in the original trilogy right? Theoretically? So it's really odd that they don't use almost any of the language, unlike basically every other adaptation. It might just be a weird writing decision, but it's so strange that it really makes me feel like they were limited or at least dissuaded from including lines from the books.)

2. Amazon is legally Not Allowed to feature things that were mentioned in the Unfinished Tales or the Silmarillion, despite the fact that those are the books that contain most of the stuff about the era they're theoretically adapting. This leads to a bunch of really weird stuff where they introduce things you'd only care about if you read the Silmarillion, but can't include any of the things that would actually make you care about it. Like people who Aren't deep into the lore have literally zero emotional investment in Celebrimbor, but people who ARE deep into the lore know that you can't reference any of the reasons they care about it. 3. Amazon's series is NOT part of the same canon as the Peter Jackson/New Line Cinema films. They're not. However they obviously want to trick people into thinking they are because those movies are popular and a prequel to them would make money even if it sucked (see the Hobbit films.) But again, New Line Cinema still wants to make its own LOTR content based on the slivers of rights they've managed to grab onto, and don't want Amazon to step on their toes. So IIRC Amazon actually made a deal with New Line Cinema that they were allowed to imitate their movie franchise's aesthetic (to keep the brand popular and in the public eye)........ BUT if New Line Cinema ever felt like Amazon was infringing too much on their territory, they could step in and stop it. So the show just sorta looks and sounds like a bland knockoff of the New Line films, because that's all they're legally allowed to be XD. Like they're supposed to look/sound just enough like them to trick you, but they're not legally allowed to include the specific things from the PJ films that would actually make you feel nostalgic for them (like the famous musical leitmotifs.) 4. Part of the deal was that the Tolkien Estate could step in and change anything in the show if they felt it wasn't true to the lore-- which is ridiculous because again, Amazon basically doesn't own the rights to any of the lore so they're just making stuff up anyway. From what I can tell it seems like this basically means the Tolkien Estate can arbitrarily veto any creative decisions based on whatever they've decided “Tolkien would've wanted,” which obviously limits what Amazon is able to do (and likely prevents them from actually criticizing the awful problematic elements of Tolkien's worldbuilding)

5. Ok I don't have a fifth one. SO BASICALLY: Yes, the Amazon series is about a bunch of original characters in almost completely original settings featuring original events and original plot points that (for the most part) doesn't even include any of Tolkien's actual words, and also isn't affiliated with and doesn't include the recognizable things like musical motifs from the New Line Cinema films. But that doesn't make it fanfic. Because fanfiction is when you take another's person's characters and stories and write your own weird personal take on them, even if you don't legally own it. Who legally owns the copyright is irrelevant in fanfiction. Fanfic it's about writing a story with the characters and world you love, about transforming a story you're passionate about even if you don't legally own the rights. Amazon Rings of Power is what happens when an entire show is completely written around what you legally own the rights to. Every aspect of it only exists as an elaborate tap dance around copyright infringement. Again, I think the Amazon series is more interesting as "a study of how corporations/megafranchises can do massive harm and also weaken our ability to create good art" than it is as a tv show, alskdjfsdlf.

If fanfiction is "writing something you love regardless of whether you own the rights" then Rings of Power is "writing whatever fits within the extremely narrow box of the rights you happen to own." And that makes it....a very strange thing to exist! It’s kinda a shining example of how giant media monopolies and copyright laws designed to benefit them end up hamstringing everyone’s ability to create meaningful art, even the corporations themselves.

#anti rop #amazon #lotr #the was written under incoherent cold brain don’t @ me

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blues-valentine · 1 month

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Dune Spoilers:

I like the Dune book series - it’s one of the first sci fic books I ever read and we all know they're the blueprint. And Deni's movies are a visual masterpiece. With that being said, I have some issues with the movies because of their use of Arab culture to build their world while most of their cast and staff isn’t even middle eastern. But I don’t feel I have the authority to talk about it so I’ll refer to some posts. (x x x)

But with a lot of criticism I disagree with the takes about the movie showing us a "white savior trope" and I don’t want to yell that media literacy is death when it comes to analyzing entertainment but yes because Paul Atreides is being portrayed as a cautionary tale since the very first introduction to Dune in the movies. Chani starts the movie explaining Arraki’s story about being invaded and under the ex rule of an imperial house and asks the following question: “Who’ll our next oppressors be?” while cutting directly to Paul and starting his journey. Paul isn’t being shown as the white savior that will free the Fremen from the imperial rule and get them the paradise they see in the prophecy. He quickly becomes a power hungry leader with a god complex and I think Dune: Part Two heavily showcases this transition. Paul spends a lot of time denying what he could be and when he has the ability to see he can win and rule the world - his greed takes over.

Paul’s ascent to power in the 3rd act isn’t even being portrayed as a good thing — it’s supposed to be dark and full of warnings about the tyrant he’ll become. It’s there in his scary speech and Chani’s face. Both Paul and Jessica are being shown as manipulative people that are leading the Fremen into false hopes and religious fanaticism. Paul knew from the very start that the Bere Gesserit were planting ideas on the Fremen about him being the one - and he knew he needed to convince the remaining doubtful people of the prophecy if he wanted them on his side for his revenge. He was using the Fremen for his vengeance agaisnt the emperor. And he might’ve fallen in love with Chani and genuinely believe his place is at Arrakis' but he quickly transforms into the Messiah that plays into people’s false worship. He knows the easiest way to control the Fremen is by playing into the prophecy.

Paul’s Atraides isn’t about a hero’s journey but mostly the journey of an anti hero. We are not supposed to think he is the good guy. In the books there’s this important quote from Frank Herbert’s himself: “No more terrible disaster could befall your people than for them to fall into the hands of a hero.” because Paul isn’t there to save them from colonialism just replacing their old oppressors (Harkonnen) with him.

And I was pleasantly surprised with the changes in Chani’s character by her having more agency by being a freedom fighter and the only one seeing the wrongs in the increasing fanaticism towards Paul and the dangers this means for her people instead of playing the passive girlfriend that sticks by his side despite him becoming everything he swore won't be like in the books. And I really hope they change some parts of her arc in the last movie and she goes against him. Or at the very least have her still present a strong opposition to his world view. It would turn their relationship more interesting than her spending 12 years as his concubine wanting to bear him children and dying for it. I think Denis seems to be planning a better way to portray the women in the last movie and I can't wait to see what he does with them.

I just feel like people will get to Dune: Messiah and be so confused as if Paul going into a dark path and becoming Arraki's next oppressor wasn't pretty much there all along.

#dune #dune part two #dune part 2 #dune movie #text post #chani kynes #paul atreides

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foxylady13 · 3 months

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I think a lot of people continuously overlook the GOOD Nesta did during the series and only focus on her "hateful attitude". Sometimes actions show more than words and Nesta is an action girly.

ACOTAR- She tried to protect Feyre in the market. She went after Feyre when Tamlin took her. She essentially told Feyre to go and save Tamlin and not to worry about them. She was ready to marry someone to help have one less mouth to feed for Feyre. She chopped wood for two days in a row.

Also, I think this quote is important from book 1 from Feyre about Nesta:

"I looked at my sister, really looked at her, at this woman who couldn't stomach the sycophants who now surrounded her, who had never spent a day in the forest but had gone into wolf territory.... Who had shrouded the loss of our mother, then our downfall, in icy rage and bitterness, because the anger had been a lifeline, the cruelty a release. But she HAD cared - beneath it, she had cared, and perhaps, loved more fiercely than I could comprehend, more deeply and loyally."

ACOMAF - She wasn't in here much but both her and Elain opened their home to Feyre and the IC for the war purposes when they were taught their whole life to be scared/fear the fae and ended up turned against their will for their efforts which is incredibly traumatic.

ACOWAR - Nesta helped with the Queens and the High Lords. She helped Feyre and the whole Raven attack thingy. She participated in the war and almost died trying to save Cassian and then beheaded Hybern. She then helped tend to the wounded and dieing. She really had no time to sort through her own trauma during this time either since she was looking after comatose Elain and in a place where she didn't want to be.

ACOFAS - We see her drowning in her trauma. She can't even take baths (which Feyre had said in ACOWAR she'd help with as she never thought about how the Cauldron affected them). She is invited to party with rent money held over her head (despite the fact she had a job as human emissary during the war so where is the money promised to her from accepting that job from Rhysand?) While there, Feyre remarks how uncomfortable Nesta is but doesn't both to wonder why, and come to find out fire bothers her because it reminds her of her father's neck snapping RIGHT IN FRONT OF HER. Cassian runs after her and even though she wants to be alone she's hounded and is seen as the bad guy for not taking his gift. A gift he proceeds to throw away, like a child, into the water because she didn't take it...At this point she just wanted to be left alone and they kept hounding her and not respecting boundaries she was putting up.

ACOSF - She is still drowning..she is forced into the HOW (feyre said she'd be tied and thrown there essentially so it wasn't really a choice) where she has to walk down 10,000 steps (which she physically/mentally/emotionally could not do so she was essentially a prisoner since no help was offered by feyre and Amren own words and let's not forget those same steps were used as punishment for Rhysand and the bat boys)..she starts training though and finds her own found family in Gwyn and Emerie. She helps the IC multiple times with things in ACOSF to and even saves Rhysand, Feyre, and Nyx very lives. She even says sorry to Feyre and Feyre doesn't hold anything against Nesta, not even telling her about the babies wings because at least she told her. We also find out she tried to write letters to others to help during their poverty times and her boots weren't as new as Feyre made then out to be showing Feyre as an unreliable/biased narrator.

All in all, I wouldn't say Nesta is an absolutely terrible horrible nasty person that is beyond redemption or forgiveness.

She is a woman who has been traumatized from a very young age starting with her mother/grandmother to being turned fae to PTSD from war/her father and doesn't know how to cope so she lashes out (which is a VALID TRAUMATIC RESPONSE) to push others away because she HATES herself more than anyone else does. She knew lashing out was wrong but didn't have the tools/upbringing to know healthy responses. It's really not until Gwyn and Emerie came along and showed her UNCONDITIONAL LOVE that she began to change and learn better and new healthy coping mechanism to let go of the bad ones.

Now, I'm not saying her trauma response was good or acceptable or excusable, but I do think she deserves some grace and compassion given all she's been through herself. Trauma is not a comparison game after all and we all experience and cope differently. Just like these characters.

Artist is Crisol Crowling or crisolcrowling on IG!

#nesta stan #nesta #nesta archeron #nesta art #pro nesta #acotar series #Nesta isn’t as bad as people make her out to be #acosf #acowar #acomaf #acofas

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queermania · 1 year

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Wait wait wait. Jensen picked the writer who gave Dean a lesbian best friend and made him a nerd to be the show runner for his little fixit fic show? This is amazing!

when you look at robbie's run of episodes (that he wrote specifically, not produced or was the executive story editor on), a very specific version of supernatural and dean starts to emerge and it is insanity-inducing. here's a very brief rundown of the episodes robbie wrote:

slash fiction -swayze always gets a pass -dean singing air supply -"it's like eating self-righteousness' -the creation and introduction of frank devereaux -"applications for sainthood" -dean letting sam go

time after time -"what are you gonna look up more anime or are you strictly into dick now?" -dean being a nerdy little fanboy about eliott ness (and checking out a dude in a uniform but that was probably jacting joices) -dean getting excited about dressing up in period clothing!! -understanding that rufus matters and that family isn't just blood -original sam is milf!bait (and he's into it) truther -actually writing grief in nuanced ways -dean is smart and resourceful actually! -your future is "covered in thick black ooze" (which i know is just a very lucky coincidence but i don't care!)

the girl with the dungeons and dragons tattoo -CHARLIE!!! he gave us charlie. he said "actually what if hardcore fans were cool and fun and GAY and they were dean's new best friend" -charlie/dean/security guard flirting split screen -"she's kinda like the little sister I never wanted." "how does a high-school dropout become one of the brightest minds…" -basically this entire episode is just "be gay, do crime" and i love that for me specifically

bitten -not my favorite episode but as @ilarual says "it's very fun in how it illustrates Robbie's willingness to play with form, since it's all done as found footage" -and as @doctorprofessorsong says it "has the concept of monsters aren’t always bad guys" -and apparently it contains a brokeback reference? my memory of this episode is hovering at around 1% tbh but you get it

larp and the real girl -dressing dean up in little outfits AGAIN -and he likes it!!! -and he likes being a nerd! (dean is getting into it and sam is the one who is unamused mr serious guy!!!!) -and charlie is dean's new best friend! -"belladonna" "the pornstar?" -"did you break up with someone too?" -honestly you already know all of it. this is a fan favorite for a reason. what more can i say about this episode??

goodbye stranger -yes robbie was the first writer to try to give us a destiel love confession -cas practicing killing dean over and over and over and still not being able to do it when it comes down to it -"what broke the connection?" gee i wonder -first episode writing cas and he nailed the sort of unintentional deadpan humor that makes cas so lovable ("would it kill you to watch a movie? read a book?" "a movie, no, but with a book with the proper spells—yeah, it could theoretically kill me.") -"if he's so sketchy then why are you praying to him?" -pizza man reference -"do you really think we can trust megstiel?" (we get both megstiel and jealous!dean) -dean quoting lord of the rings (because he's a nerd! and he reads!) -meg roasting the shit out of sam for the amelia stuff -etc

pac-man fever -charlie reading the carver edlund books -charlie and dean being besties/getting a montage -dean telling charlie that what happened with her parents wasn't her fault/understanding the guilt she feels -"i love you" "i know" -"what about castiel? he seems helpful, and dreamy" -again, putting dean in little outfits -charlie knows how to shoot/aim a gun

slumber party -dorothy!! -oz!!! -look, is this episode cheesy? yes. but it's fun and it's so obviously a love letter to the oz source material and i love that about robbie. he does his research and he commits

first born -cain!!!! -drowley team up!!!!! ("friends. besties, actually." im sorry but drowley means so much to me personally and this is the start of their beautiful bromance) -"this is by far the dumbest idea you've ever had." "yeah, well, it's early" -cas liked pb&js!! jelly, not jam. he found jam unsettling!! -"you have a guinea pig? where?" -"you're a terrible liar?" "that is not true. i once deceived and betrayed both you and your brother." -just. sastiel shenanigans (and hugs!) -"she only asked for one thing." "to stop" -anyway. you get it.

meta fiction -dean and cas phone call smiles!! they LIKE each other -metatron media dump -"what makes a story work? is it the plot, the characters, the text? the subtext? and who gives a story meaning? is the writer? or you?" -i think it's important to note that robbie who wrote gabriel faking his own death -cas noticing something is wrong with dean pretty much instantly and then discovering the mark of cain

fan fiction -i mean. come on. -"although we do explore the nature of destiel in act two." -"you can't spell subtext without s-e-x" -sam being such a younger brother and trolling dean about "destiel" -"BM scene" -dean "you know they're brothers, right?"-ing the w*ncest stuff but just being flustered about the destiel stuff ayyyy -dean casually referencing andrew lloyd webber -"transformative fiction" -"i want you to put as much sub into that text as you possibly can" -dean quoting rent -the samulet is back! -"i have my version, and you have yours." -"he took away our own free will" <- about john!! -THE RETURN OF CHUCK!

there's no place like home -"i forgive you dean" "yeah well i don't" "i know, kinda your move" -"you hurt my friend" -"you lied to me" "you lied to yourself. that's kinda your move." -i mean. robbie just gets it, ya know?

book of the damned -cas being a huge bitch (love that) -sam being the excessively codependent one -cas and charlie get to meet! -found family goodness if only for a little bit!!

angel heart -ahhhhhhhhhhh!!!! -"i got it at the hot topical" (and claire keeping grumpy cat) -no seriously. dean and cas went birthday present shopping together for claire and they did it at a mall -castiel feeling guilt for what he did to the novak family (and amelia recognizing that cas has changed/grown) -"you were both troubled teens. you speak her language." -"bring your daughter to work day" -"i'm saying she might be stronger on her own." which is a controversial line but i think it says something really significant about how dean feels about his childhood "in fact you're not anything to her except a constant reminder of someone that's gone." -mini golf!!!!!! dean and claire bonding!!!! -the introduction of the grigori, a class of angels which may or may not be important at some point -claire roasting the shit out of dean with "you seem pretty old" <3 -"happy birthday. don't shoot me."

baby -do i really need to explain anything about this one? -"okay first of all, never use swayze's name in vain, okay? ever." -"mistakes were made" -dean having a dream about john teaching him to drive but under normal and appropriate circumstances -werepire…. ghoulpyre… -honestly just the whole episde. you know what i'm talking about. the unique perspective. the insight into their day-to-day lives. the moments that live in between.

into the mystic -eileen! my best friend eileen! -dean x mildred otp -remembering sam's lucifer/hell trauma -the whole "follow your heart" speech -"banshees go after the vulnerable, so why'd it go after you?" -dean recognizing there's something off with cas -but really the most important thing here is EILEEN

safe house -bobby and rufus!!!! -i repeat BOBBY AND RUFUS!!!! -"were you ever nice?" "1985. worst year of my life." -robbie just really GETS that this show is more fun when it's not centered entirely on the brothers. -bobby referring to sam and dean as his boys -timey wimey shenanigans -there were some interesting implications in this episode too but i'm losing steam here so i'm gonna let you rewatch and figure it out lol

don't call me shurley -the reveal of chuck as god!!!! -bisexual chuck -dean does sam's laundry (sometimes with beer) -chuck is a shitty egotistical writer -he also plays the guitar and: "i like front row seats. you know, i figured i'd hide out in plain sight." -"i thought if i could show my sister that there was something more than just us, something better than us, then maybe she'd change. maybe she'd stop being… her. but every time I'd build a new world, she'd destroy it." -"the world would still be spinning with demon dean in it but sam couldn't have that though could he?" -"you were gonna choose amara over me."

so. yeah. jensen chose THIS GUY to helm the winchesters. bold move, sir. full respect.

also, this tweet always makes me crack up

one of us! one of us! one of us!

#replies #anonymous #robbie thompson #mp

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ideasarestuckinmyhead · 3 months

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Idk I'd this is your thing, but I would really appreciate it if you made a headcanon list of a Lovey dovey Auron. Like, he's so sappy with Rook with Rook. Idk why I've been craving this.

Lovey Dovey Auron

Obvi he writes about Rook, but the type of writing is the one were when you read it, it's basically that quote "to be loved by a writer." like it makes you realize things about you, you didn't know.

Hand holding (like in that Office comfort video) bc he loves any physical contact with you.

He loves just staring at you. Like he's in awe that your even with him. Love is just pouring form his eyes and when he doesn't look away from you anyone can tell he has an abundance of love for you.

When walking he holds the bottom half of your back. To basically tell you he won't let anything happen to you. It a semi protective thing.

Kisses your hands bc of how much hard work you do. It's like he does it to recognize everything you do.

The words he uses to describe how beautiful you are. Not just physically, like he tries to describe how your soul is to him.

Auron def has books, novels even of writing about you. The way you spark creativity from just sparing him a single glance fills paragraphs of love in his head he just has to put it to writing before it slips from him.

When he goes to places I feel like he can't help but reminded of you by a certain thing. Smell, touch, or by items

Even though he says he doesn't have time to tame brats, he can't help but like butting heads just a bit with you. The resistance to be fully obedient to him makes it fun.

He def started smiling a bit more after being with you. Not a lot of people notice but Trish does.

When your relationship does finally get put in public I feel like he would like doing slight pda. Like a quick kiss or having a hand on your hip.

He slightly guides you when at like a fancy party.

Auron wants to give you things but knows that it might feel like a sugar baby situation if he does it too much and never wants it to feel like that.

Loves hearing your idea's or solutions to problems he might be having. It shows how much he respects your opinion.

When laying in his lap he likes to hum. If able to work with one hand will put on one you. To say he still paying attention to you.

For some reason I see him getting a portrait of you. Something to have, to show how much your on his mind. Either in his personal office or just a small one at his work one.

Speaking of paintings I think he would have at leas tone secret picture in his desk at work. It's a silly one you took and you can see the lovey dovey look in his eyes.

Outfits he bought for you are so specific like if you have a fabric or thing you want on clothing.

He remembers every little thing you talk about. Even if you think he wasn't listening he is, he always is. there isn't a time he isn't listening to you when you speak.

If there was ever a creep and he can't really do anything he focuses on making them feel horrible for trying to creep you out.

(I can't think anymore bc my brain is fried </3)

#yuurivoice #yuurivoice auron #what it do what it be what it isn't #sorry thats stuck in my head #its 8:09 im just a eepy girl in a eepy world #red writes

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fitzs-trained-monkey · 1 year

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Treading On Thin Ice

Word Count: 8,000+

Warnings: Some language, insanity, frightening sequences???

Summary: A little bit of peppermint bark goes a long, long way. || Kol x reader || Here lies my Masterlist || Christmas At The Compound 2022 ||

A/N: This fic was requested on Wattpad. The books mentioned and quoted in this fic are The Way of Kings by Brandon Sanderson and A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. I do not own them. Thanks for reading!

☃️Story Begins Below☃️

Generosity - The spirit and action of freely and frequently giving to others.

"Y/N/N!"

Rebekah's voice carried your name across the compound and you glanced up from wrapping garland around the railing of one of the Mikaelson's many stairwells. You knew you should have been prepared for when the blonde girl just appeared at the top of the stairs as if having teleported, yet the sight still made you jump. It wasn't your fault though, despite having been raised in the house of a witch. You were really only used to the concept of vampires - not the reality.

"Y/N/N," She repeated. "I need to ask you something."

"Hi, Bekah." You offered her a small smile to show that you were listening. The girl waved her hand dismissively.

"Yes, hello. I-" She paused, regarding the decorations you'd been working on. "Oh, darling, that's coming along splendid!"

You let go of a chuckle at her attitude. Oftentimes Rebekah would forget that she didn't have to be terse with you. "Why thank you, Bex," You said, moving into a mock bow.

"You're welcome." The girl smiled, grateful you understood her behavior. So few did. "Anyway, I wanted to ask if you intended to make any more of those thin mints by chance?"

You raised a brow. "Are they gone already?" You wondered, amused but not surprised. "Man, I knew those were gonna be popular but I didn't know they were gonna be that popular. I should've made a bigger batch."

Rebekah's smile turned a little sheepish. "Could you make another one? Please?" She turned her pleading eyes on you and though you hadn't intended on refuting her request, you most certainly weren't going to now. You couldn't deny that girl anything. "I don't mean to be demanding, but they were so fantastic."

You snorted and turned back to your decorating with a slight shake of your head. Mass murderers or not, her family was way too good to you. "You're not being demanding, Bekah. Honestly, I don't think you guys ask enough of me, all things considered."

She frowned. "But you're-"

"Pregnant! I know. Trust me, I'm well aware." You cut her off, holding up a finger. "However, one month pregnant is not dead. I'm fine and I feel great. So as long as you guys are providing room and board for me, the least I can do is help out and cater to y’all’s raging sweet tooth's. Savvy?"

Rebekah groaned playfully. "Ugh! I suppose if you must," She huffed.

“Oh, I must.”

The blonde original's face softened affectionately and she sighed. "Has anyone ever told you how amazing you are, Y/N?"

"No, not to my face. Why? Did you hear something?" You tossed her a wink and she rolled her eyes. "I'll get on those thin mints as soon as I'm done here," You said. "Who knows? Maybe I'll make some Chex Mix too."

The girl's expression lit up and she skipped down the stairs to pull you into a hug. "You're the best Christmas present ever!" She cheered.

You couldn't help but laugh. Turns out, all those stories about the youngest Mikaelson were completely wrong. She wasn't outright cruel and snide, she was just cautious. She didn't like being betrayed and thus didn't trust easily. However, you had quickly worn down her defenses with your sugary confections.

You pulled away from her arms upon hearing the familiar squeal of the front gates. Elijah was back! Though you turned to greet him with a smile on your face, that excitement quickly dimmed as you caught sight of the grim expression he wore. Beside him, Josh - one of your closest friends since you'd moved in - looked equally disturbed. Something was very wrong.

"Joshua, in the basement you'll find what we need. Fetch them quickly please," Elijah said. His tone was polite as always but it carried an undercurrent that made it clear he wasn't asking. Josh nodded, quick to comply.

Worried, you cast a quick glance at Rebekah - a question evident in your eyes. The blonde just shook her head, lips pursed and brows drawn together.

"Rebekah?" Elijah called from below. Something in his voice was urgent.

"What is it, brother?" The girl demanded, pushing passed you. "What's going on?"

A scowl twisted your good friend's lips and his eyes darkened. "It's Kol."

Rebekah inhaled sharply. "What?"

"He's come back." Elijah's frown deepened. "Kol is here in the quarter and he appears to be in the midst of one of his episodes."

"Oh bloody hell." That was the first time you'd seen Rebekah look truly frightened.

"I know," Elijah sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "We have to get Y/N out of here. Now."

You blinked, feeling a spike of dread slash through your chest. You-you couldn't leave. You couldn't. He was out there. He would find you. You couldn't let him get to you. You didn’t care what sort of danger you were in now, getting torn to shreds by an original vampire would be preferable to allowing that disgusting excuse for a man to ever lay his beady eyes on you again. Elijah had promised.

"It's too late for that!" Rebekah argued faster than you could open your mouth. "If he's already in the city, then he'll be watching us, brother. The second we try to send Y/N anywhere, knowing Kol, he'll probably try to eat her!"

Alright, admittedly that didn't sound like a great option.

"Then what?" The dark-haired original questioned. "What do we do with her, Rebekah? Because, by the old gods, I will not allow that girl and her child to be hurt by anyone, especially Kol."

"And I appreciate that!" You called down to them timidly. "Excuse me, just so we're on the same page, is this the super insane brother who likes to snack on people like I snack on cheese and crackers?"

"That would be the one," Rebekah huffed, frowning. She turned back to Elijah. "If we caught him, could we keep him contained until he rides it out?" She suggested.

Your friend shook his head. "I don't like the idea of Kol and Y/N under the same roof."

"I don't think we have another option," Rebekah said.

“It’s too risky,” Elijah insisted.

“I’ll take that risk,” You spoke up. Your voice shook only slightly and you clutched the railing for support but you stood your ground. You would be brave.

Elijah sighed again - he’d always taken such good care of you and you loathed to ask him for one more favor but you had to. “Y/N, you know I respect you, but I don’t think you comprehend how dangerous my brother truly is.”

“Maybe not,” You admitted, shrugging. “But you’ve beaten him before, haven’t you?”

“Only with the help of Niklaus, and only when we’ve managed to catch him by surprise,” He pointed out with a shake of his head. “But Niklaus is miles away, and Kol is expecting us to retaliate.”

“Expecting?” Rebekah scoffed. “He’s not expecting us to retaliate, Elijah. You make him sound passive. This is Kol! You know as well as I that he intends to force us! I’d bet he’s already dropping bodies, so either we subdue him or we lose the quarter!”

Grim realization cast a shadow over your dearest friend’s expression and he nodded his weary agreement. “It’s a trap,” He conceded. The deceptively young man raised his eyes to you again. “Now do you see why you must go?”

“If I leave, then that just plays into his hand doesn’t it?” You noted. “If his whole goal is to bait you into reacting, then-” you jabbed a finger toward your chest “- let’s not hand him extra bait!”

“You know she’s right,” Rebekah pressed softly. He clenched his jaw.

“Please don’t make me leave?” You whispered. “Please don’t break your promise.”

He held your eyes for a moment, then Elijah cursed under his breath and turned to his sister. "Fine, we do it your way," He reluctantly agreed. "Y/N, go to your room and stay there please. Don't come out unless Rebekah, Josh, or myself come to collect you. This is for your own safety, do you understand?"

You could sense the seriousness of the situation in the depths of his pine bark eyes. You decided it best not to question.

"Okay."

It wasn't as though you'd been living with the Mikaelsons for very long - no more than a few weeks really - but even in such a short time, the three siblings you were familiar with had told you plenty about their youngest brother. Horror stories, that was what you'd been told. Even Rebekah, who spoke of the wild Original with the most fondness among her family couldn't deny his thirst for mass slaughter. According to his siblings, Kol liked hurting people.

That wasn't a concept you could really understand. While it was true that you didn't know him personally and that you had a tendency to see the best in people, you found it hard to believe that Kol could be quite as horrid as his siblings claimed. From what you had been told about their kind by your mother, the Mikaelsons themselves, and Josh, Kol sounded more like a raging addict than a raging psychotic. Though you were probably wrong. Again, your familiarity with the nature of vampires was purely theoretical.

That was why you decided to heed Elijah's orders.

All danger aside, being confined to your room for a few hours didn't bother you so much. After all, you had the entire Stormlight Archive sitting on your shelf, so it wasn't as if you could really get bored. Funnily enough, it was only after Elijah and his sister returned that you found it much harder to remain behind your locked door.

Your head shot up when the first scream tore through the air. Ear piercing, shrill, bloodcurdling, and ominous, the sound alone was enough to set your heart racing. That scream was followed by several shouts.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Get that away from him!" That voice belonged to Josh - he sounded worried, disturbed.

"No!" A different voice cried. "No, Ethan! Don't do it!"

Then that scream came again. It morphed into words.

"GET OUT OF MY HEAD!"

"Ethan, no!" Josh yelled desperately.

The scream came once more, intense and unremitting, rising to a crescendo that chilled you to your very bones. Then, all at once, the sound cut off.

You sat there on your bed, frozen. Your back ramrod straight as you clutched your book to your chest and waited. For eight beats of your pounding heart, silence permeated the compound - a shocked, absolute sort of silence. The kind that follows death like a shadow.

Then like a crack of thunder in the night, there was laughter. Sick, horrid laughter. It was rasping and manic, crazed and deranged - unfeelingly cold and slick like ice, there was a hoarse, retching quality to it, lurking just beneath the surface. It echoed off the walls and through your skull, sending a shiver down your spine. The sensation of a thousand invisible eyes descended upon you and your breathing turned harsh and frantic.

The laughing stalled.

"Oh, what fun this is!" A new voice exclaimed, you'd never heard it before and you would have been satisfied never to hear it again. "I do so love a little jaunt through an inferior mind. Perhaps you should mandate vervain intake for your lackeys, Elijah. After all, the least you could do is make it a challenge for me, eh?"

That voice… That voice! It was repulsive - downright sickening. There was no warmth in it whatsoever - no life - only stone-cold death and wretched, scathing, venom. It stole the warmth of the room you resided in. Yet, at the same time, something about the sound was so smooth, so alluring and playful, that you almost felt inclined to listen. Something in his voice nearly goaded you to relax, to trust whoever welded it like a gleaming silver blade. That voice didn't sound dangerous.

It sounded… tempting.

Perhaps that was what made it so bloody terrifying. You had never felt more unsettled in your life. Not even when he had been shadowing your every step. That man's obsession with you was nothing compared to the stark horror now flooding your senses.

What was going on out there?

The calm timbre of Elijah's voice cut through the air soon after, but his words didn't do much to calm you.

"Why do insist on this bloodshed, brother?" He demanded, voice ragged - patience worn thin.

"Because. It's. Fun."

And that awful laughter came again, seeming to fold in on itself and multiply. Growing louder, almost gleeful, it was manic and maddening, like a pack of hyenas encircling their prey. Locked in your room, you felt trapped yet exposed. What was going on out there? You had to know.

So you did something undeniably stupid. You got up and opened your door. Stealing out into the hall, you swiftly ducked behind a pillar and peeked through the second-floor railing, taking in the courtyard below. There in the center of the compound, a ring of vampires stood around a young dark-haired man.

He both scared and fascinated you.

Perhaps you would have thought the boy to be beautiful had his features not been tainted with madness. His thick dark hair seemed soft and you might have liked to run a hand through it had those locks not been disheveled and flecked with blood. His lips might have distracted you had they not been twisted into a vile sneer. His teeth were perfectly white but the terrible, deadly fangs he displayed ruined the illusion. Perhaps his eyes might have been deep enough to lose yourself in, but the curse in his blood and the rage in his heart had corrupted them with a horrific blackness that seemed to overflow, fracturing his otherwise innocent features into the visage of a monster.

Two steel cuffs clad his forearms, these attached to hulking, robust chains that looked strong enough to hold the weight of an ocean liner. Those cuffs burned the skin beneath them, rendering his arms a repulsive mess of scorching red flesh and blood. He hissed and laughed, purely demented, as he tugged and tore at the chains but, positioned on either side, each holding fast to a chain, stood Rebekah and Elijah. Both of your friends had their respective chains wrapped around their arms, struggling despite their teamwork to restrain their brother.

The vampires circled around them each kept hold of their own ropes. The thick cords were wrapped around his throat, others around his arms and legs and yet, all of them together couldn't seem to bring him down. There was one rope, you noted, that had gone slack. You followed the line with your eyes and quickly stifled a scream. A bloody corpse lay sprawled on the ground with a jagged length of wood impaled through his heart - self-inflicted.

Above you, a clap of thunder shook the sky and the heavens opened, raining down vicious hail though the day had been cloudless only minutes before. This was New Orleans - it doesn’t hail in Louisiana. You shuddered from the cold and the horror, but that disgusting, unhinged laughter only re-doubled.

"No matter what you see or hear, know that it is merely an illusion!" Elijah's voice rang through the courtyard. Bold and commanding, it rose over the unnatural icefall. "Keep him out and you will not be deceived."

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that," The awful voice drawled, sounding so clearly from the boy at the center of it all. He merely grinned.

Within moments, a second scream - not the first you'd heard - erupted from the courtyard. Then another, seconds later. And another one again after that! One by one, shrieks permeated the atmosphere until the cries of the undead were all you could hear. Several of the surrounding vampires collapsed to their knees. There was retching and sobbing, some were choking while others gasped for breath.

Amidst the pain and the chaos, Kol lifted his face to the sky, eyes closed and mouth warping into a grin. And that monster kept on laughing. "I don't think they can help it, Elijah!" He taunted, sadistically gleeful.

"Josh?" Rebekah called over the gathering storm. "Josh, you have to fight it!"

Of all the others surrounding the siblings, Josh was the only one left standing. He screwed his eyes shut, his expression drawn with effort.

"I-I'm trying!" He bit out between clenched teeth.

You drew in a sharp breath, wishing you could reach out and take your friend away from this insanity. "Josh…" You whispered, still crouched as you watched from your hiding place.

The monster in the courtyard heard you. His eyes snapped open and locked onto your own. It all happened so fast.

You had never wanted to imagine what a lobotomy might feel like, but you were certain you received a taste of one then as something - some powerful, vile force worked itself into your mind with all the delicate touch of an ice-pick driven by a sledgehammer. You squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head in an attempt to wrest his consciousness away from yours but your feeble inexperience was pathetic in the face of this practiced maniac, backed by enough raw power to rival that of Klaus. An unnatural chill ran down your spine as any mental barrier you had shattered like stained glass in a storm and the last glimpse of reality you caught was that demented grin of his widening into a bleeding gash across his face.

"Now, now, now… What do we have here?" That terrible voice whispered into your ear. A pair of hands - soft and warm though you didn't want them to be - settled on your shoulders and you froze. You didn't move. You couldn't move as his hands trailed down your arms and he knelt just behind you. Those hands slid to your wrists, thumbs pressing in to find your pulse. "Human," He hummed a second later, blunt teeth tugging gently at your earlobe, nipping almost teasingly. "How interesting." You didn't understand why you couldn't move! Your body simply refused to respond. "You know, I've torn through quite a few of your kind today…" Kol's mouth moved lower, leaving soft kisses along your throat as his hands shifted to your hips. Two sharp points scraped over your jugular. "Yet, not one of them smelled so sweet," He murmured, that insatiable hunger more than evident in his tone. "What are you going to taste like, I wonder?"

Finally, you could react. (He let you react. He was the one in control here. Kol wanted to see you run scared.) You cried out, jabbing your elbow backward into his chest and scrambling away from him as fast as you could. The monster just watched, amused, and tilted his head. "Who are you, sweet-thing?"

"Y-you're not real," You stammered, trying to sound brave.

"Are you sure?" His tone was playful, mocking as he grinned and stalked closer. "I think you should guess again."

He seemed real, he felt real but it was all in your head. Elijah had said so. You could always trust Elijah.

"You're not real! " You shouted, voice growing firm. "Get out of my head and leave me alone!"

His expression soured into a scowl. "Perhaps you're right," He said. Then, in a split second, Kol was behind you. "But I'm not too far away, am I?"

Your eyes snapped open and you knew he had let you go because those haunting black abysses stared back at you with a promise.

Yet, in the moments you had grabbed Kol's attention, Josh had found his opening. He raced up from behind and jabbed a syringe directly into that monster's neck, injecting him with enough vervain to down three original vampires. Kol roared and threw his head back, clipping Josh's skull with an impact that would have killed any human instantly, but it was too late. His legs soon gave out and he fell to the ground - out cold.

Yet, you found yourself unable to truly process what had happened. You got to your feet, clinging to the railing for support but you didn’t move beyond that. Below you, the other vampires recovered from whatever attack Kol had unleashed on their sanity.

“Take him to the basement,” Rebekah ordered, letting go of a long breath as she collapsed into a chair. The others nodded and got to work. You just watched them, seemingly unable to tear your eyes from her brother as they dragged the temporarily lifeless corpse away.

“Would you like to tell me exactly what you were thinking,” Elijah’s voice sounded from behind you, effectively shocking you from your stupor. You jumped, turning to face his displeased expression. Yeah, you were in trouble all right.

“I can honestly say I have no idea,” You replied, pressing your lips into a thin line. “It just sort of… happened.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Do you have any idea what my brother could have done to you if he had broken free?”

“I don’t think I want to imagine that, thank you.” You rocked back and forth on your heels nervously as Elijah’s glare intensified. “But, hey! He’s out for the count, so it’s all fine!” He crossed his arms over his chest and you let go of a nervous chuckle. “How was he so powerful anyway, huh? I mean, that was weird,” You pointed out, gesturing to the storm overhead. Its intensity was rapidly waning.

“The dude was higher than a kite, that’s how!” Josh called up to you. He’d begun cleaning up the body of his fallen friend.

You raised a brow. “What does that have anything to do with it?”

“Kol’s been snacking his way through several states on his way here, and with our father dead, its not like he had to worry about avoiding attention,” Rebekah sighed, rubbing at her temples.

“I mean, we’re talking a kill count higher than my carrer best in Call of Duty,” Josh added. “And that’s saying a lot!”

“Is it though?” You teased.

“It is actually,” He sassed. “Anyway, running on that much death is like running on a concoction of jet fuel, monster energy, red bull, sixty three pounds of sugar, eight tablespoons of the essence of Dwane Johnson, a five hour energy, seven triple espresso shots, and gorilla testosterone… with just a dash of peppermint.”

You blinked. “Interesting metaphore,” You admitted. “Please never say that again.”

He just shrugged grinning. You turned back to Elijah. “So if your brother is that doped up, then what’s going to stop him from tearing his way outta’ this joint as soon as he wakes up?”

“We'll keep injecting him with vervain on the hour until he regains a grasp on his fragile sanity,” Rebekah answered for her brother.

“And if that fails we’ve raised a barrier spell to keep him contained,” Elijah said. His expression softened and he placed a hand on your shoulder, meeting your gaze. “As long as you stay out of the basement, Kol will be unable to harm you.”

Nodding, you bit your lip. “I sure hope so.” Unwittingly you cast your eyes toward the doorway through which Kol had disappeared, and a thread of curiosity tugged on the corner of your mind. You shook it away. “I’m gonna go make those thin mints now.”

For the next week and a half, you did a rather excellent job of putting Kol out of your mind. It was no easy task, mind you, considering the occasional screams of outrage, strings of profanity, and creative death threats that rang through the compound every now and again. (That boy had quite the set of lungs on him.) The death threats especially gave you a good reason not to go wandering into the basement. It wasn't until the tenth day of administering hourly vervain injections, that Josh finally declared the guy "moderately chill".

"Define, moderately chill?" Rebekah demanded. Elijah had forbidden her from seeing their brother - knowing their presence was only likely to rile him up. But that couldn't keep her from worrying.

Josh shrugged. "I mean, he's not trying to impale me on my own rib cage anymore."

"Wait, I thought you guys said he was restrained!" You said, a slight note of panic rising into your voice.

"Oh, he is," Josh assured you. "Doesn't stop him from trying though."

You grimaced, reminding yourself yet again why going down to see the wild Original was a less-than-intelligent idea.

But two days after that, your curiosity began to outweigh your common sense. You started to pity the guy, he must have been lonely down there all alone - not to mention bored… and hungry. As a person who was quite fond of food, you didn't want to imagine what going without it for a week would have to be like.

Thus, you decided to pay him a little visit and came up with every justification in the book as to why because morbid curiosity was an awful reason. Rebekah had told you that Kol could be really sweet when he wanted to be, so you figured that it certainly couldn't hurt to earn yourself a place in his good graces. Bringing him something to eat sounded like an excellent way to do just that. Besides, you had found a new recipe for peppermint bark and you needed a guinea pig. Elijah and Rebekah were off doing whatever it was they did to keep the peace in the French Quarter, and Josh was on a date. You wouldn't have a better chance.

So, you pushed all thoughts of self-preservation aside and ventured down into the basement, armed with a cookie sheet, a billiard cue, two blood bags, a plate of peppermint bark, and Brandon Sanderson's The Way of Kings.

There wasn't exactly a cell down there per se - just a dingy alcove behind a small archway with a cot set up in the center. Despite it being invisible, you could instantly tell where the barrier spell was. Apparently, Kol had been entertaining himself by attempting to spit past it. He clearly hadn't had much luck as there was a semi-consistent line of dried blood marring the stone floor. It reminded you of something out of Lilo and Stich. Well, you'd been right about the boredom.

Peering through the archway, you studied the boy inside. His wrists were still clasped in those shackles you'd seen before, except now those had been secured to opposite walls. The skin beneath the cuffs was still red and raw, in fact, you thought you could see smoke curling off of it. That had to be painful, though you tried very hard not to pity him. Shifting your attention to his face you were shocked at how peaceful and innocent his expression seemed. He was sprawled across the cot, fast asleep and you couldn't help but find him… cute. This boy looked nothing like the monster you had seen two weeks ago.

You sat down on the floor just beyond the magic barrier and watched him for a bit. Not in a creepy way. You just didn't want to wake him and if you did, you had no idea what to say.

Turns out, you didn't need to worry about that because Kol woke up on his own. He groaned, lifting his head and his eyes fixed on yours.

"It's you…" His voice was dry and scratchy, though you couldn't expect much less from a person who hadn't had anything to drink in two weeks. Confusion colored his expression initially but within seconds, dark veins crawled outwards from his eyes, spilling down his cheeks and you caught a glimpse of his fangs. You froze as he stared at you longingly. Then he groaned and curled himself into a ball like a child with a stomach ache. Only then did you notice the shadows beneath his eyes and the profound lack of color in his skin.

"Are you hungry?" What a stupid question.

"Starving," Kol growled miserably. "Come to torture me, have you?"

"No, actually I brought you a snack."

He glanced up, raising a brow. "Excuse me?"

You held up one of the blood bags and his eyes widened. In a split second, he was off the cot and straining against the chains. Their length allowed him within a mere three feet of where you sat and you jumped back. Kol hissed, his pitch-black eyes singularly focused on the bag in your hand. He struggled and thrashed, gleaming fangs on full display.

The color in your face drained away.

There was the monster you'd seen in the courtyard.

"Scared, are we?" He growled, sneering. Those teeth snapped at you with all the power of a hyena.

You didn't reply. You just backed away.

"DON'T YOU DARE TURN YOUR BACK ON ME!"

But that's exactly what you did. You turned and ran from that place as fast as you could, clamping your hands over your ears to block out his voice as Kol screamed insults at your back.

Yet, you found yourself returning two days later. Apparently, Josh's date had gone well and there was some problem across the river that Bekah and Elijah had to take care of. You knew you had absolutely no reason to extend your kindness to that monster in the basement again, especially after he'd so completely rejected it the last time; however, you were a generous person and if he wanted to be a jerk to you then that was his problem. You would keep being kind regardless of how he decided to treat you because really Kol was only hurting himself. He was growing weaker by the minute - starvation had to be excruciating and you were offering him a respite from that pain. He was sure to concede eventually.

So down the steps, you descended once again, moving to sit on the floor just beyond the barrier spell. This time, Kol was already awake. He struggled to sit up, arms shaking, and glared at you viciously.

"Ah, she's back," He snarled, lip curling with disgust. But it wasn't entirely genuine, you could see the curiosity and surprise shining through his eyes.

"I am." You nodded, holding up the blood bag as you had done before. "And I brought you something."

Kol's eyes immediately turned black, but this time he remained carefully still. "What do you want?"

You shrugged. "I wanna give this to you."

His eyes narrowed as he forced himself to look at you - not the crimson substance in your hand. "What do you really want?" He pressed.

"I really want to give this to you! Unless you try to attack me again, in which case I'll leave and come back tomorrow and the next day and the next until you get over your ego and take the hand that's being offered to you."

Kol scoffed, rolling his eyes. "And why would you want to help me get out of here, darling? First thing I'd do is rip into that pretty little neck of yours."

"Oh, heavens no," You snorted, grinning wryly. "I don't want you out of there any more than you want to be in there."

"Then why offer?" He demanded.

You shrugged. "Well, starvation doesn't sound too pleasant. You must be feeling pretty sick by now."

The vampire's eyes darkened and he scowled. "I don't want, nor do I need your pity, bug," He spat. If looks could kill, you would have been drawn and quartered.

"Good thing this isn't pity."

"Then what is it?" He mocked.

"The fruit of generosity," You answered, “which you have long denied your fellow men.”

“That’s Charles Dickens,” Kol hummed. “Never did like him.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. "Well, in that case, think of it as a Christmas present."

"Generosity…" Kol hummed the word, watching you appraisingly. "People will take advantage of that, you know."

You huffed a laugh but there was no humor in it. "Believe me… I know." You knew better than most. You quickly met his eyes again. "But you won't."

He seemed to find that deceleration extremely amusing. "Oh, is that what you think?" He chuckled. "Darling, with that in your hand, I could easily find my way back into your head. I could do whatever I wanted. I could drive you mad."

"You could. But I know you won't."

"Do you have faith in my humanity, sweetheart?" He teased. His grin was a sharp row of gleaming teeth.

"Nope!" You exclaimed. You held up your hand exposing a ring. It wasn't really your vervain jewelry - that was the new ankle bracelet that Elijah had bought you - but Kol didn't need to know that. "I got an upgrade. Smart bug."

He huffed a laugh, amused by your cheek. "The possession of a brain does not make you intelligent."

You just rolled your eyes. "Look, do you want this or not?" You asked, gesturing to the blood bags again. Kol's attention was once again enamored with it. You watched him try to hold back, try to retain his pride but it wasn't long before he broke.

"Fine," He bit out. His eyes flicked to meet yours. "I want it."

"Next time I'll teach you to say please." You smirked and tossed him the bag.

He caught it easily and for the briefest of moments, you thought you caught him watching you. Then that moment was gone and he tore into it, groaning voraciously as he practically inhaled its contents. As soon as he was done with it, you tossed him the next, wordlessly. He downed it without a second thought, and though he tried to keep up the spiteful, angry facade, you could see Kol's relief visible in his posture.

"Is that better?" You asked as soon as he finished. He just glared and tossed the empty bags back at you.

Shrugging, you scooped those up and opened the Tupperware container you'd brought with you - the one full of peppermint bark - and shook it.

He watched you for a moment, seething. "Now what?"

You grinned cheekily. "Want some? I made it just yesterday."

Kol rolled his eyes, moving to sit on the cot where he rested his arms on his knees. He watched you with narrowed eyes but took his time to reply. "What I want, darling, is to know who the hell you are."

"Me?" You raised a brow. "I'm Y/N Y/LN."

Kol huffed. "What's a bloody name mean to me?"

"Not too much, apparently," You muttered.

"Who are you? What are you? Why are you here?" The boy in the cell demanded, seeming more curious now than furious.

"Well, I already told you my name. I'm pretty human as far as I know, and I'm here because I make poor life decisions," You said. It was no crime that you didn't want to tell Kol your life story. He didn't need to know any of it.

"Poor life decisions, eh?" He offered you a wry grin. "Would you mind elaborating on that?"

"Yes," You deadpanned. "Look, I did something stupid and Elijah brought me here. That's all you need to know."

"Why would my brother bother himself with you?" His tone was somewhat accusatory, though you couldn't comprehend why.

You shrugged. "I dunno. I guess it's because Elijah's sorta like my… cousin."

"Cousin?"

"One can never have too many cousins," You said, smirking.

Kol scoffed. "I beg to differ. One can absolutely have too much family."

"True, however, cousins are not immediate family," You countered. "They're more like friends who feel obligated to do you favors."

"Ahh…" He nodded. "I see. So you're a manipulative bitch then, eh?"

Your face soured though it was mostly theatrics because Kol was entirely right. Beneath that frown, you were smirking. "Oh, I wouldn't say that. I prefer the term: opportunist. Plus, I'm not a complete leech. I help out here and there. I dust shelves, sweep floors…" You shook that container of peppermint bark again and shrugged. "I bake... I'm helping."

Kol snorted. "It's cute that you think that."

"Oh, so you admit that I'm cute?" You teased, winking at him.

He raised a brow. "Flirting are we? When you're so fond of my brother? Darling!" He shook his head reprovingly. "That'll get you onto Santa's naughty list for sure. Then again, my brother does have a thing for women who take advantage of him…"

"Elijah?" You balked. "Dude! I just said he's like my cousin… This ain't Alabama!"

Kol chuckled darkly and once again, he was in control of the conversation. The guy was quite good at gaining the upper hand. "Well, in that case, sweetheart, I'd be infinitely more worried."

"Why?" You questioned, narrowing your eyes.

"Because you won't be able to keep this little ruse of yours up forever," He reasoned. There was a sick gleam that didn't belong in such innocent eyes. "Niklaus or my sister - one of them will figure out what really drives you, then you'll be wishing you had the romantic affections of that noble stag to protect you when the claws and teeth come out. My family is not one to be manipulated."

Kol was good at intimidation, that much was true, and his inferences were logical but he needed to work on his humility. That boy had jumped the gun.

You smirked. "Who said it's them I'm manipulating?"

He blinked, tilting his head. His eyes flicked along your frame, inspecting you again. "Clever bug." He grinned. "This isn't generosity, is it? No, not at all. You're just trying to butter me up."

"Is it working?" You hummed.

"Nah."

"Alright!" You shrugged. You didn't need it to work. Not right away. "I've got some time, want me to read to you?"

"Certainly not!" Kol said. "I want more answers."

"Then ask more questions." You shrugged, mostly indifferent. "But at least be a decent person and try the treats." You loaded up the cookie sheet with a few pieces of peppermint bark and, using the billiard cue, pushed it past the boundary spell. Kol got up, regarding you somewhat distrustfully. Despite the restraints, he managed to get close enough to hook his foot around the lip of the cookie sheet, pulling it closer to himself before bending down and picking up a shard of the treat. He inspected it carefully, then after a moment, cast his eyes back up to yours.

"It's poisoned, isn't it?" He accused.

You scowled, taken aback. "Of course not! I'm offended, Kol. Honestly, what do you take me for? I wouldn't waste perfectly good vervain on you! Not to mention, that's a vile misuse of perfectly good peppermint bark!"

"Then why are you so desperate for me to ingest this?" He challenged with a sneer.

"Because it's a new recipe," You reasoned, tossing your hair over your shoulder with an indignant huff. "What if it turns out to be nasty? I wouldn't want to feed my friends something subpar, now would I?"

He rolled his eyes leaning back against his cot. "I thought you said Elijah was like your cousin," He said. Kol popped one of the pieces into his mouth idly. He probably wouldn't have done it had he not been so hungry - anything to at least provide the illusion of comfort, you supposed. Yet, he couldn't hide his genuinely surprised reaction when he tried the treat.

The boy did a double take and a small, yet radiant smile overtook his face. You grinned. Though, a second later, he caught your eyes and wiped that expression away.

It didn't bother you, however. It couldn't bother you because, though it had been for just a moment, Kol had proven you right. There was more to him than that horrid monstrosity of an exterior. There was more to him than the villain he played. Under all of that, there was a boy - scared and hungry, upset and alone. Beneath the monster, there was a person with the same desires as any other.

Because this month was December and December is the time when all people just want the same things. Generosity and companionship are the two things everyone wants for Christmas and deep down, Kol was no different.

A few beats passed and Kol reached for another shard of peppermint bark as silence settled between you. Tilting your head, you watched him and, after a moment, you opened your mouth.

"Bravado," You said, smiling just slightly.

Kol's head shot up. His eyes were wide and weary but not near as sharp nor as threatening as they'd been merely a moment before. He looked more like a child who'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar because you'd seen him. You'd seen past his front and he knew it.

"What?" Kol's voice was hardly more than a whisper.

You leaned forward, settling with your elbows on your knees.

"Bravado," You repeated, gesturing minutely to his hands which still shook, though not as severely. "Bravado is the hallmark of insecurity."

It was the wrong thing to say.

Whatever warmth you had seen in his eyes drained away in hardly an instant, his expression growing hard as obsidian as his posture closed off to you yet again. You cursed yourself. You should have known better than to push.

"Get out," Kol hissed, teeth and fists clenched tight.

"Kol I didn't-"

He spoke again, voice taught with barely constrained rage. "I. Said. Get. Out." He kicked the cookie sheet back at you with force and it skidded across the stone floor, nailing your knee hard enough to make you wince.

"Fine," You said, quietly. Then, you gathered your things and left.

Yet, Kol's ire didn't stop you from coming back. You returned, again and again, every day and though Kol continued to take the blood bags from you, he refused to engage you in conversation. This went on for days. Though it wasn't long before you grew tired of it. You had seen something in him that day, and he was trying to forget it existed but you weren't going to let him.

The next time you descended those stairs and sat on the floor, you waited for him to down the blood bags just as you had every other time. Kol grew weaker by the day, though he was in less pain than he would have been thanks to you. He sat facing you, with his back resting against the far wall of the cellar. You knew he expected you to leave, but you didn't. You held your ground and said what he needed to hear.

"I'm not mad at you, Kol."

The boy slowly raised his head, it lolled to the side as though he hadn't the strength to keep it up. His skin was ashen and his eyes were dull, sunken into his face as though there was some black hole inside him. The breaths he took were shallow and unstable. He was falling apart, yet still, a bitter smirk spread across his face.

"Well that's a first." Somehow his voice, raw and quiet, was more unsettling than the screams you'd heard weeks ago in the courtyard. The hollow whisper worried you more than that unholy laughter had. It made you empathize with him.

"I'm not mad, because it wasn't your fault," You continued.

"Another first."

You sighed, shrugging. "Your reaction was only natural. I would have done the same thing."

"I'm sure you would have."

You took a deep breath. You were about to do the dumbest thing you would ever attempt, yet you weren't all that afraid. Getting to your feet, you approached the barrier spell - the only thing guaranteeing that Kol could not harm you - and crossed over the invisible boundary. Those deep brown eyes followed you, trailing your every step with suspicion and disbelief as you crossed his cell and knelt beside him.

Kol, starving as he was, didn't attack you. So you offered him a gentle smile.

"It's okay, Kol. It was my fault," You said quietly. Kol froze. "I just got too close, didn't I?"

His eyes grew wide, pupils dilating as he stared at you with an uncomprehending expression. Reaching out slowly, you ran a hand through his hair. The dark locks were dirty and tangled, but soft all the same. Kol hesitated, but leaned into your touch as though he simply couldn't stop himself.

Leaning in, you pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. "I forgive you."

"Why?" He demanded, watching you with wonder.

You just smirked. "Think of it as a Christmas present."

"For me?" He coughed, grimacing. "Or for Elijah?"

You sighed. "I'm not here for Elijah."

"Then why are you here?" He looked at you, desperation for understanding showing clearly through those eyes. "My brother hardly bothers with his own siblings if he deems them unworthy of his limitless time."

"I'm in over my head," You said simply, shrugging. "I think it's what got me in so deep that maybe he saw something in."

"And what was that?"

"Generosity." You smiled - thin as a strand of hair. "I showed someone too much and he turned out to be a creep who took advantage of me. Elijah's making sure it doesn't happen again. That's all."

Kol's expression twisted with confusion, then cleared with understanding. "A-are you-" He trailed off, unsure.

"Oh come on," You said, chuckling slightly. "I know you've heard it by now."

Your baby's heart had started beating three days before.

The boy's bright grin confirmed your statement. He laughed, though the sound was tired. "You're going to make an excellent mother," He said.

You smiled. "Thanks."

Kol leaned his head back against the wall, weak but grinning, and sighed. "So, what's that book you brought with you?"

With a bubbling laugh, you stood and wandered back to the boundary spell where you'd left your stuff.

"Wait, don't-"

"I'm not going anywhere, Kol," You snickered, bending down to snatch the book. Then you made your way back to sit beside him. The boy leaned against your shoulder and though it made you just a tad bit nervous, you let him. Carding a hand through his hair, you opened the book and began to read aloud.

"Szeth-son-son-Vallano, Truthless of Shinovar, wore white on the day he was to kill a king."

It wasn't long before you lost track of time. Unfortunately, reading out loud ensured that you couldn't hear the footsteps of your friends when Elijah, Rebekah, and Josh returned. If Kol had heard them, he didn't inform you.

The door to the dungeon swung open on hinges that protested rather loudly and your head shot up from your reading.

"Y/N, I'm going to have to ask you to step away from him," Elijah's cold, commanding voice sounded from the entrance.

You bit your lip. "You know, uh… I can explain this," You promised.

"Can you?" Elijah's glare was a frigid sort of rage and it was concentrated entirely on Kol.

You opened your mouth. "No. No, I cannot."

"I see," Your friend hummed. His eyes flicked to you and you thought you felt just a little of what it might be like to jump into a freezing lake. "Y/N, return to your room at once, please. I would like to speak to my brother."

"Okay." You weren't going to object, not when Elijah was providing your room and board. Though, that didn't stop you from looking back at the boy you'd finally brought to the surface. Picking up the tray off the floor, you gave him a small smile and slid the Tupperware container full of peppermint bark back toward him. Then you left without another word.

You didn't hear anything from Elijah, Rebekah, or even Josh for the rest of the day. You sat on your bed and waited, but the only sound that came from downstairs was an exasperated Elijah's indistinct yelling. Whatever discussion took place in the basement lasted for a few hours, but no matter how many times you texted Josh, all he would tell you was how reckless your actions had been.

The following day, you ventured to the kitchen. You weren't going to stay in your room the entire day. If Elijah wanted to stay put, then you would do so while being productive via baking. That day, you decided to bake thin mints. Tasting one, you hummed as the chocolate melted on your tongue. You didn't even hear the kitchen door open.

"Might I try one of those?"

You shrieked, jumping nearly a foot into the air. Whirling around, you were rather surprised to find Kol standing in the kitchen doorway, smiling at you - not smirking, just smiling. He looked a lot better

"I dunno," You said, returning the expression. "I think you're gonna have to say the magic word."

Kol stepped closer, crossing the room until he stood directly in front of you. He reached out and took your hands in his own, pulling them to his chest. “Please?” He said, in the sweetest tone you’d ever heard. The puppy-dog eyes he gave you were the color of melted chocolate. You grinned.

“Here-” You held up one of the squares. “-Catch!”

Tossing the mint up in the air, you giggled as Kol threw his head back and caught it between his teeth. He winked at you, biting a piece off as he leaned against the counter.

“These are fantastic,” He said. “Thank you.”

“Ah… So he does have some manners - good to know.” You nodded to yourself sarcastically and he rolled his eyes.

“Only for you, sweetheart,” He hummed. “Only for you.”

You chuckled. “I see. Now, do you wanna tell me how you convinced Elijah to let you out on - what I’m assuming is - vampire parole?”

Kol shrugged and tried to steal a second mint but you slapped his hand away. “We made a deal,” He said simply.

“You promised to behave?” You questioned, raising a brow. “You? Just like that?”

“You seem surprised,” He chuckled.

“Oh. Well, then I’m not being expressive enough because I am astounded!”

Kol waved a hand dismissivly. “Eh, shouldn’t be too hard, I don’t think - not with you manipulating me and all that.”

You blushed. “Is that permission to keep making sweets?”

“Oh, yes. Absolutely.”

Snickering, you passed him another thin mint. “Well, in that case, Merry Christmas, Kol.”

He took it. Then he leaned forward and pressed a kiss sweeter than chocolate to your cheek. “Merry Christmas, darling.”

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