#no beta we die - not like anything we just die

[olderthannetfic]

One hand I get not wanting to tag every little toot, and some times it's also just not relevant. On the other hand, not tagging on an archive where one part of the purpose is to actually find and categorize stuff so it can be found.

I do think some people are a bit obnoxious when it feels like they're bragging about not tagging or being passive aggressive about the idea of tagging certain parts in the fics. I just get the feeling like people are getting whiny about tagging with actual info tags instead of just "meme tags".

*"No beta readers we die like X." "Wrote this at 4am instead of doing homework." Those kind tags.

Some people also seem angry that certain tags might exclude them from "potential" readers who use the exclude tags function to begin with. Like they're in some way owed readers, even those who have no interest in what you're actually writing. "You don't have to read it." Yeah, that's what's gonna happen regardless, so why is tagging such a big deal in that case? In the end you didn't get anything from not tagging either. Especially tags that divide readers. On the other hand they don't think of the people who are specifically looking for those tags. Because it's an archive, and people use the tag function to also find fics with specific tags. If you don't tag it, people who want to read it won't find it.

I think a good example recently was the transman Mpreg fic anon submission. Someone here mentioned they get triggered by transman preg fic but can read cis-Mpreg, because Cis Mpreg doesn't trigger their dysphoria. (I think that's what they said) This is an example of someone curating their own online experience. People are literally trying to curate their experience online, and avoid fics that contain content that's upsetting to them, but when you don't tag just because you wanna be passive aggressive about certain tags, you're making that really hard.

It's like people are more upset about the potential "tag haters", and wanting to "own them" than they are about being welcoming to people who want to read their works, or people who're just trying to curate their online ventures.

Idk maybe it is bc more people have the algorithm brain so they feel like they shouldn't have to tag for exclusion, only tags that get the most eyes and the most attention, but tagging on AO3 is mostly beneficial to everyone involved. People who want to read something will include the tag, people who don't like it will exclude it, and many of the users will sort themselves into readers and not readers, without having to slowly deal with annoyed people jumping ship.

And yes, I know about antis who just write shit comments, but those people are going to do that regardless of if you tag or not, because some of them are incredibly obsessive about online stalking.

--

I mean, sure, but half of the tag discourse is people who think that tag X is central to every story vs. authors who don't think in terms of X.

Or it's people who want to exclude the merest mention of X vs. people who tag for people who want to find X, which is two very different thresholds for X.

[ronearoundblindly]

Not In Front of the Fish...

Jake Jensen x roommate!Reader follow up to Watch the Fish (see previous or JJ Masterlist)

Summary: You've caught Jake doing something he shouldn't, but there's no reason you can't string him along...and along...and along until the line snaps.

Warnings for smut (many references to masturbation, protected sex), horrible puns (yes, hello, I'm Ro, welcome!), heavy innuendo, trolling this poor boi as hard as humanly possible, taking the lord's name in so much vain, kinda *aggressive* foreplay, aftercare, fluff, and whipped!Jake (deserves a warning because I sure as sh*t wasn't prepared 🫠).

Blame @bigtreefest...or thank Essie, ya know, whatevs! No beta, we die drowning in the fish tank. MINORS DNI. And yes, @whiskeytangofoxtrot555, the glasses stay on 🤭 Y'all may not realize this but I myself am an ultra-awkward nerd, so I identify with Jake's struggle and yet would absolutely, endlessly tease this mothaf**ka.

"Hey, Jakey. Whatcha doing?"

Well, thank fuck he's not still hard standing there with his metaphorical dick out, the last image from your laptop's screen seared into his eyeballs of some woman taking a load in her open mouth.

"Need me--" you steadily lick vanilla ice cream off a spoon, some caught at the corner of your wide open lips "--for anything?"

He stares. He stares so intently he almost falls over. Apparently, he's leaned into his staring.

"My help, perhaps?"

Your tongue rolls across the edge of the refilled spoon.

He thinks maybe he'll cry if you keep this up, but for the love of Christ, please keep this up.

"No," he squeaks. "Just..." Must you be wearing short-shorts? Is it essential that your tank top dip so low? "...saying 'hi.'"

His hand flings out in a wave, five fingers managing to point in eight different directions because he can't commit to any sort of normal human movement.

"So... Hi."

Some ice cream drips off the spoon down your chin and to your chest.

Jake is not here right now. Jake has died.

"Sure." You wipe up your mess and keep eating. "Sweet dreams, big guy. You look ready to hit the sack after a long...satisfying...shower." You let the spoon dangle from your mouth while brushing past him, which you have to do. You have to touch him because Jake can't fucking move for the life of him, and he swears to god you made your hand sweep across the front of his hip.

He jolts to follow the contact before overwriting his hind brain. His hand slaps the wall as he catches himself trying before collapsing into a begging puddle at your feet.

He should tell you. He'd rather die.

He should admit what he's done, admit what he wants to do, but when he stops pinching his eyes shut for strength, Jake turns to find you bent over in the doorway.

"Hello, sweethearts," you coo to the fish, "what would you like to do this evening? Maybe watch another movie?"

You wiggle your butt and make this happy sort of popping noise that Jake can't unhear.

Fuck, is this a thing he's gonna have to deal with now? Listening to you watching porn? His mind instinctively scans your room for a glimpse of any toy you may have left out. He's dying, yeah, but dying to know what they look like, if he's bigger than whatever you bury inside you now.

"Jake," you repeat in a breathy way that has him swallowing his tongue. You've stood back up, holding a bowl with oozing white liquid that teeters close to the edge as it melts.

His dick could top that off in jiffy if you'd like.

He coughs. "Yeah, uh, what?"

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

Fuck me, every muscle, bone, and braincell in his body screams at once.

All he manages is an anatomically-correct impression of a fish. No sound comes up from his desperate lungs. He flees to his room.

He hears you shut your door just as he shoves down the shorts he threw on and grabs a squirt of lotion from the bottle nearby.

Too many images speed through his brain all at once, cum and cream, sex and porn, your open mouth, your presented ass, that peek of cheek beneath soft fabric, the shadow along the seam where the material ran right through your folds--probably, at least, he's filling in gaps wherever he pleases--and the breathy sounds of 'Jakey' 'need me' 'help you' 'satisfying,' and 'anything.'

"Fuck me," he growls out in earnest, sparing no trick to get himself off as fast as possible. Maybe if he's quick he won't learn exactly how hot he finds all this. He already relies on you as the voice in his head.

It's like you're right there on the floor with him, cupping his balls and whispering in his ear.

So hard for me, huh? So heavy and in need of attention. Why did you wait to fuck your fist, Jakey? Had to hear me? Think of this dick filling me better than any toy...

He gasps and groans, shoving his face into the nearest side of mattress to muffle the carnal sound.

It puts his ear right next to his discarded headphones.

"Daddy was so rude just then, huh? I know. He's shy. He'll come see you tomorrow. He just needs to be all alone in his bed when he's tired. I know, I know. It makes mommy sad, too. She doesn't like to be all alone, but that's why I have you. Look at the camera and wish daddy goodnight..."

Oh, fuuuuuuuuck me, Jake wails into his sheets when he hears the sound of you blowing a kiss through the speakers.

Poor thing doesn't know you're torturing him on purpose, but at least he came...with his bare knees aching on the hardwood floor of his room and the nosepiece of his glasses digging into his eye sockets as he buries his shame in his bed.

You suggest he have the fish in his room for a while, like shared custody, but then he knows you would have access to listen to him via the livestream.

If he tells you you have to mute it every time, you'll know he might not have. If he refuses to keep the feed up or the camera functioning, you'll be suspicious of why. If he says fucking anything against your very thoughtful and adorable idea, it'll be a cold day in hell since he will endure all forms of torture just to see your elated smile as the tank is finally setup between his closet and his bed across the room from his desk.

The keystrokes from his work are too faint for the camera's microphone, and he proceeds to wear headphones for music, take calls outside, and never touch himself in his own room for weeks. Ok fine, two, he makes it two weeks.

Deprived of hearing you, which he grew rather dependent on, and needing to inconspicuously lengthen his showers, Jake is a mess.

Why didn't he record anything? Why would he??? He was supposed to get himself together like a man and either ask you out or get the fuck over it.

He even watches (but mostly listens to) porn through his headphones without touching himself in an attempt to fade the memory, but then you show up at his door, asking to visit with the 'kiddos' and checking with the Marauders if 'daddy' is treating them well.

He's not gonna make it, man.

You settle on his bed to read for a while because why the fuck would he say 'no' to you, and this is the part that does Jake in the most: his sheets smell like you after and turning in his desk chair to find you accidentally asleep in his bed just... He can't.

He's unwell thinking about how sweet you are, how fucking horrible he's being by fantasizing about you this way, how if he just had the balls to crawl over to kiss you, he'd--but he doesn't. He just gets worse.

He gets real messed up horny one evening when you're out at some fancy event with friends.

You leave wearing this dress that practically had him on his knees the way it molded to you and yet draped so smoothly in places. He thinks of his mouth molded to you that closely and his body laying so smoothly over yours.

Damn it. He has to do something. He goes into your room, and it's not that bad, he just picks up a t-shirt, that's all. He's not the world's worst perv or anything. It's not underwear, for god's sake, but on a fluke (because he has no idea how long he was in there) he climaxes at the sound of you yelling 'I'm home' from the kitchen and scrambles to the bathroom with his gym shorts wrapped around his thighs, hand still catching spurts of cum as he for sure doesn't calm down, with milliseconds to spare.

Thank fucking god you're slower to climb the stairs in heels.

He takes it back. He is the world's worst perv.

Your t-shirt mysteriously disappears until he can sneak it back into your laundry.

He runs out of floss and absently searches your drawer for--oh my god.

OH. MY GOD.

That...is a large, veiny dildo you have there. Oh fuck.

Jake slams the drawer shut without thinking.

"Everything alright?"

"Yeah, just...just gotta put floss on the grocery list."

"Use some of mine," you call out casually.

"It's fine!" His voice was too high and he answered too fast, but if he's not mistaken, you have now invited him to poke around in your things.

He feels slightly less pervy...and a hell of a lot hornier.

It reaches a point where coming in the shower isn't enough.

He falls asleep ok but wakes restless and craving friction. There's want and then there's need, and Jake fucking needs this or he'll never rest.

He goes on as quietly as possible, thinking that getting up, going to the bathroom, and turning on the exhaust fan will make far more noise than humping his sheets and biting his pillow.

The fish tank glows as usual at the foot of his bed.

Look away, kids, Jake thinks and immediately doesn't know whether to be sick or laugh. Daddy is gonna fucking die like this.

He knows it's pathetic. The entire thing has been pathetic from start to finish, but he's just too tired and too het up to care.

A few whines escape the insulation of his pillowcase. He misses the gentle patter of footsteps down the hall.

There's a soft knock followed by "Jake?"

God damn it. The one time he gives in, and he's already ruined it.

He tucks himself up into the band of his boxers which is not exactly subtle but can't be helped. Jake rolls out of his bed, finding his glasses in the dark to crack open the door with his body strategically behind it.

"Yeah, what's up?"

He can't make out a whole lot in the low light, but you don't say anything. Your arms are spread out to hang on either side of the frame, making your (again) very low-cut tank top his only focal point.

Well now he's sorta worried this has absolutely fuck-all to do with his problem. "Are you okay?"

"I...I thought..."

Your voice is soft and timid. It makes Jake want to wrap you in his arms, but he's still worried that you'll say you heard him and it's not okay and he's gross and this is all way, way out of line.

He holds his breath to better listen.

"I hoped you would have needed me by now."

What. Air rushes out of him like he's been tackled.

Sorry, WHAT?

"What?" the question finally falls out as he leans intensely again, shifting so the door doesn't slam in your face, his bare chest and lower half now visible as much as they can be. "You...what now??"

Your arms fall and you step forward. It looks to him like you move with trepidation, that your head is lowered in embarrassment, that somehow you're shy about your confession. Maybe you are, but only the tiniest amount compared to him.

"Tell me if I'm wrong, Jake." You slap one hand to his chest with a crinkling noise, and he swiftly moves to take the wrapped condom. "Tell me if you don't want this," you continue, lowering your voice and hand until your thumb grazes the exposed head of his cock.

Lightning strikes and super-charges his need.

"But if you don't th--"

He'll be damned if you finish that thought. Jake scoops your jaw into one big hand, angling you just-so, barreling you both into his door as it swings into his closet with a wobbling bang. He's clumsy and his grip goes everywhere to bully you flush with his body yet not drop your timely offering.

His kisses are feverish and sloppy. By the feel of you groping at his back and shoulders, you're not mad about it. He fumbles with the wrapper behind your back. It takes his attention away for a few seconds.

"I prepped for you," you whisper hoarsely. "I'm ready."

Jake has no legs at that point and takes you with him in a heap to the floor. While stripping away his boxers, he realizes his naked ass is high in the air of his room.

All he can see in his mind is fish pressed against the glass, staring, judging. Gah, not here.

He maneuvers into your hold again and says, "hang on," crawling to the hall runner so the 'children' won't see. No, he can't make it any further because his length is snuggled between your fucking thighs and somehow the hallway is a fucking mile long to your room. No, he's not immune to your whines from where your head is tucked in the crease of his neck.

Here's fine.

As gracefully as he can, Jake collapses onto you, collecting the noises he missed so much directly from the source.

For being made of such little fabric, your shorts are in his way, and he's genuinely annoyed to have to lift from you again, even though it's necessary to discard them and necessary to get the now-open condom rolled along his aching cock.

His glasses are already smeared from haphazardly exploring your skin. If Jake couldn't see before, he's all but blind now. The only garment close enough to try and clean them is your tank top, but he ignores it because it's still dark. He needs to feel you more than anything else in the world.

Lightly, your fingertips flicker down his abs and lead him to close the gap between you.

Jake groans as he lines himself up and easily notches into your welcoming heat. As aroused as you are, he still edges himself deeper and deeper in barely-controlled strokes, grabbing the railing at his side for leverage and stability.

He grunts instead of articulating how magnificent you feel. He moans instead of voicing what an utter blessing it is to finally fuck you. He gasps with the rolls of your hips because you taking control while beneath him just...unravels him.

This was too long coming, and he wasn't prepared.

Jake's apology for being fast to finish perches at the tip of his tongue when you cut off his words and the last of circulation to his brain.

You shake and pant, mewling 'yes' and his name, while your body squeezes him like a vice. He's being pumped to completion without moving another muscle, and, good fucking god, he has to hang on, falling to his forearm, keeping his open mouth hovering over yours.

Jake thinks maybe he just drowned and got brought back to life.

Right there, in his face are your precariously covered tits, nipples rock hard and taunting him. He doesn't care what his dick's doing anymore; he wrenches a strap down your chest and lavishes your plush flesh with attention.

Too long coming and in no way prepared... Neither were you.

Your hands brace his head, fingers buried in his short hair as you wiggle and hump at his semi-stiff cock inside you. Jake hisses in over-stimulation but doesn't stop you. He swears he will never, ever stop you.

His attentions on your breasts slow but he can't seem to let you go for a long time, long after your legs fall away from him, limp and twitching.

A pair of goodbye pecks is his parting gift before Jake nuzzles up the column of your neck and takes what little breath you've regained, curling his arms around you as his tongue curls with yours.

When he adjusts again, he realizes how sore he's getting from kneeling on the floor, and sits up to help you, too.

"Let me get--I'll just--"

Jake can almost reach a towel inside the bathroom from this position with his long arms, but he's sure to warm up the tap and trash the condom before returning to gently wipe you. He may have made a quick pass at his lenses in there as well.

You look dazed and delightfully sated, basking in the streak of light from the bathroom, leaning on your palms like you're on a beach somewhere.

"Fuck, you're stunning," he says without thought.

He...lingers a while to clean you up, overtly mapping these bits of you he hasn't seen yet.

"What took you so long?"

Jake tosses the towel up into the sink behind him and manhandles you into his arms.

"I might've ruined everything." He starts to lower you into your bed, but you don't release your arms from around his neck. "You could've kicked me out."

He's not going to argue. He won't say 'no' to you.

"Come here, you dork. You can't keep me waiting anymore."

Jake climbs into the cramped, cozy space with you, mentally noting that a bigger bed is definitely on the shopping list.

A/N: I am strategically leaving out my thoughts on the next morning for now because I'm just too excited, eeeee!

#jake jensen smut #jake jensen fanfiction #jake jensen x reader #jake jensen x you #jake jensen fic

[little-pondhead]

[inspired roughly by this post. My brain snails started going nuts so I thought it'd be easier to post this separately :)]

…

It was a lovely day in Gotham. Well, as lovely as it could be. The sun was up, peeking through the overhead cloud cover and making the buildings gleam in the rare sunlight. The air was fresher than usual, and faucets ran clear of strange and unusual toxins.

Somewhere in the Upper East Side, in a little neighborhood tucked away from the rest of the city, marched around the new boss of the area. She was a young girl, just barely in high school. But despite it being the middle of a work day, she wandered around her chosen streets, content to do whatever she wanted. Above her, a pair of siblings watched on and discussed the unique situation.

"So let me get this straight: that fourteen-year-old goth girl is a crime boss?"

Mia smiled at Leon, her older brother, and his dumbfounded expression as they rested on her balcony. "She's fifteen, actually. Her birthday just passed. We all got together and threw a block party for her!"

"You know how insane that sounds, right?" Leon turned to her, a bit miffed that she dared to say those words to his face. "She's a kid. Why do you all listen to her?"

Mia shrugged and sipped her beer. "She does good work. Holds her own pretty well, and the kid has connections. Good ones, too. That can be the difference between life and death in Gotham."

Leon rubbed his forehead in frustration. "I just don't get it. How did she end up in this line of work? Do child labor laws even apply here?? Why aren't the Bats doing anything?"

"Don't think about it too much, dipshit." Mia crushed her now-empty beer can in her hand and tucked it into a paper garbage bag hanging off of a hook on the balcony rail. A familiar set of green arrows was printed on the side.

"And now you're recycling?!" Leon realized. "When did you start doing that, Mia??"

The woman shrugged and got up, stretching. "Probably around the time Brambles absolutely reamed out Mrs. Zalinski for littering at the park."

"Wait, who's Brambles?" Leon scrambled upright and followed his sister inside.

Mia laughed. "Brambles is our fifteen-year-old crime boss!"

...

"I can't believe you got a cool name right off the bat," Danny grumbled, flopping onto Sam's bed face-first. Sam smirked and shoved him off with her foot. Danny just squawked and let himself ragdoll to the ground.

"It's your fault for not having a better gimmick." She said to his prone body. "Besides, it could've been worse."

"I think Inviso-Bill is the worst possible nickname for anyone." Danny groaned. "But you got something cool immediately. Who even thought up 'Brambles'? That's such a unique name!"

"Well the kids call you Grim; that's pretty cool."

Danny flopped over, twisting himself much farther than any human was supposed to just so he could glare at her face. "They only call me that cause one of the is obsessed with Harry Potter." He grumbled, pouting.

Sam just rolled her eyes and went back to sorting through piles of papers scattered all across her duvet. Since moving to Gotham several months ago, Sam had taken it upon herself to turn the experience into something useful rather than just moping all the time, as she originally wanted to. That 'something useful' had landed her as the newest crime boss in Gotham, with about a third of the Upper East Side as her current territory.

So many problems had popped up in the last year, and the group had decided that taking it on alone would never work. The GIW had been trying to close Amity's borders, Danny's parents had a scientific breakthrough, tensions in the Realms were high, etc. There was a lot on their plate! Sam's solution was to create a foothold in Gotham City. She would lay the foundations for Jazz to work in Arkham and forge a safer environment for the residents of Amity Park to sneak off to if the GIW went too far. She was essentially weaving a cushion for everyone to fall back on.

Danny, using the power of duplication, was splitting his focus between foiling his parent's plans and resolving issues with his rouges to create a united front. He was the main distraction, and Sam's own heavy hitter when she needed help establishing dominance.

Tucker planned to gather intel with the help of Technus and Jazz. They were trying to gather as much evidence as possible so they'd be in the clear when the whistle blew. The GIW would crash and burn, legally speaking. They were the bugs of the operation, spreading themselves thin and hoarding information like it was candy.

Dani was their wild card, their jester. She was keeping the JLD's attention focused solely on her and all the supernatural hijinks she was stirring up. When the time was right, she'd point them in the direction needed and let them loose. After winding them up so much, the hope was that the Justice League Dark would descend upon the GIW like hellfire.

But those were their future plans. Right now, Sam was in possession of specific files from Arkham Asylum and the GCPD. She was looking for anything to give her an edge in the upcoming meeting with a few other crime bosses. Some annual thing they host to renew Goonion contracts, see who's still alive, and examine how much the territory lines have changed. Stuff like that. Red Hood was supposed to be there, and she knew she needed an ironclad defense against him and his nosy colony of Bats.

Danny untwisted himself all of a sudden, making a weird face. "Sorry, got to go." He apologized. "Vlad just showed up to my house."

Sam waved him off. "Go, I'll be fine for today. Just be on time for the meeting on Friday. And I want you, not a double."

"You got it!" Danny did finger guns at her and promptly melted into a pile of green goo. Right on her bedroom floor!

Sam sighed and got up to throw a towel over the puddle. The ectoplasm would evaporate eventually, returning to the original Danny little by little. But for now, this would keep anyone from asking about it until it was all gone.

Sometimes she really hated living in student dorms. People always felt the need to burst into her room for no reason.

Who even made dorm rooms for high schoolers in the first place??

...

Jason couldn't help but stare at the new recruit.

Well, 'new recruit' wasn't exactly accurate. 'Potential to be the most headache-inducing supervillain' was more like it. Standing at a solid 5'10" with platform boots, Brambles, the newest crime lord who had taken over half of the Upper East Side in under four months, was almost tall enough to look him in the eye straight on. Which she tried to do anyways, tilting her chin up oh-so-slightly (in that stupid way aristocrats do when they want to look down at you) and glaring at him with open hostility.

Brambles was young, way too young to be in this line of business. At the start of the annual underground crime meeting (yes, they couldn't come up with a better name), she had announced that she was fifteen, went by she/her, and would snap the dick off of anyone who looked at her funny. Most everyone laughed at her, thinking it was an empty threat. Brambles proved it wasn't by sucker-punching a younger lieutenant who tried to get handsy with her five minutes into the meeting.

When the lieutenant's boss protested and threatened a gang war, Brambles had snapped her fingers and summoned what could only be a fucking pit demon from the depths of hell to threaten the man back. The creature looked like a teenager, just like Brambles, at first. But it was...off. The longer you looked, the worse it got.

It wore a draping black cloak that covered most of its body, with the ends turning to mist when it reached the floor. It had a pale, young face and white hair. Its eyes glowed just like Brambles', except they were a toxic green that made Jason's heart skip a beat in fear. The creature was snarling, with a fucking muzzle on it to keep its sharp teeth away from wandering fingers.

With a nod from Brambles, the creature bounded forward and knocked the guy to the floor, its arm elbow-deep into the guy's chest. The dude looked terrified, and a little sick "Would you rather lose a lieutenant or your life?" She had snarled, sounding almost a bit demonic herself. The other boss had backed down without another word, writing off his subordinate as dead and gone.

Instead of killing the guy, however, Brambles simply banished her little guard dog to a corner of the warehouse to play with its new toy in peace.

"Is she allowed to do that?" Someone whispered.

"They weren't unionized, so the Goonion won't say anything." Another answered.

It was the most awkward meeting in the history of the criminal underworld. No one even died since they were all focused on the newcomer.

Jason could feel a headache forming as the meeting came to an end. Brambles was still sitting in her chair. The creature had grown bored of its toy and was leaning against her, sprawled out lazily and barely flicking an ear at the onlookers in acknowledgment. A few people were idling around her, mostly women, trying to talk some big game and get on the kid's good side. Brambles was humoring them, taking tight control of the conversation when they got too prying.

Jason sighed. He knew he'd have to go over and have a talk with the kid, even if it was just for Bruce's files. He hauled himself upwards and stalked over. "Pardon me, ladies and gents, but I'm going to borrow the kiddo here for a moment."

The creature hissed at him, tensed at his approach. Brambles kept a tight grip on the back of its muzzle, keeping it grounded. The other criminals scattered like flies. They were the only two (three?) left in the warehouse within minutes.

Bramble rose to glare at him. "What." She spat. "If you're here to convince me not to get involved with anything, I will set Grim on your ass after lighting it on fire."

The creature, Grim, growled in agreement. The sound echoed strangely like he was hearing it from underwater.

"Relax, I'm not here to do any of that." Jason raised his hands in surrender, immediately abandoning that possible line of thought. "I'm just here to talk business. You're young, and while you don't want to admit it, inexperienced."

"Stop the fancy words, Red Hood." Brambles' eyes glowed again, and she released her hold on Grim's muzzle. "If you want to make a deal, say it to my face. If you're here to dig for information, either ask me or hit the road. I prefer honesty over flower talk, so tell me what you want before I take over your area, too."

Jason bristled. His vision was tinted green as he snapped, "What the fuck is your problem, kid?! I just wanted to make sure you were safe and not being forced to do this. I was even going to offer my support and protection if it was too much! I know you aren't going to stop, but that doesn't mean I want a kid to die just because they got into something they shouldn't and they think their fancy guard dog will always be there to protect them!"

Brambles' eyes stopped glowing, and her stare softened a bit. Grim went deadly still, just floating there, staring at Jason. His heart beat like crazy in his chest. What was he saying? It was all true, but he could've been nicer about it. Dick would've found a way to be nicer.

-krrrk- "Ibis, reporting in. I think you can trust him, guys. Even if he's a Bat, his connections and experience would be useful in our plans. Ibis out." -krrrk-

Jason flinched from the sudden noise, looking around to find the source. It sounded like it had come from everywhere, even inside his own helmet. Brambles immediately switched out her hostile look for an annoyed one, tapping an earpiece he hadn't noticed before.

"Ibis, you really have to stop opening up our comm lines to the public." She snapped, but there was no real heat to it. "And I thought I told you to stop eavesdropping!"

-krrrk- "Sorry, can't help it. I'm everywhere now! You shouldn't have given me this power." -krrrk-

Grim hissed.

-krrrk- "Don't hiss at me, young man! You were the one who suggested this!" -krrrk-

"I'm sorry, time out!" Jason made a T with his hands. The green from his vision had completely disappeared now. "What the FUCK is going on now?"

Brambles sighed, rubbing her temples. "You know what? Fine. We'll trust you. My name is Sam. Nice to meet you, Jason Todd."

Jason stepped back, immediately reaching for his gun. Grim darted forward and promptly flew through him, stealing all his weapons in one go. "I'm Danny!" Grim-Danny?-chirped in a human voice, giving him a shit-eating smile. "Sorry for the act, Mr. Hood. And sorry about the name drop, I'm the one that told them."

-krrrk- "I'm Tucker! There are more of us, but they're busy. I have literally so many questions for you, Mr. Hood." -krrrk-

"Now that introductions are over-Danny don't eat his smoke bombs, you're not gonna look like Dorathea-we'd like your help."

Jason squinted at them. "You understand this is all suspicious as fuck, right? And how did a pit demon find out who I am?"

-krrrk- "Yeah, we know. But lives are on the line here, and I think you'd really be a help!" -krrrk-

Brambles-Sam-sighed and pulled out a flash drive. "I was going to use this as leverage, but I guess it'll have to be useful in other ways." She tossed it to Jason, who numbly caught it. "Look over it if you want. If you don't, then just burn it. Do not try to plug it into the Batcomputer. Don't try to send it to the Batcomputer, either. A virus will target that specific IP address as soon as it makes contact. Any other computer is fine."

"Look it over, and we can go from there," Danny added, spinning in midair while chomping on one of Jason's knives. (His good one, too!) "And I'm not a pit demon, but I am dead. That's how I knew about you. Whatever brought you back to life gave the Realms a real headache for a while. It wasn't hard to look you up in the records."

"This is so much information. Lives are on the line? And two, three kids are dealing with it? By becoming crime bosses?"

-krrrk- "Technically, Sam's the only crime boss here. And that was kind of an accident. She was supposed to create a safe foothold in Gotham in case we needed to evacuate our town. But we all got cool nicknames out of it! And you're the only adult we've told this stuff to!" -krrrk-

"I'm what?"

"The only adult." Sam's unwavering gaze seemed to pierce his soul. "There are quite literally no other adults that can help, Red Hood. None that we trust, not really. Any adult intervention needs to be planned carefully so it doesn't backfire on us. We're trusting you here, Jason. Not only are you like us, which technically puts you in danger too, but you have power and connections to support a whole town of people the government wants to eradicate."

Jason looked at the little green flash drive in his hand. He didn't want to ask. "And this...?"

"A fruit basket," Sam said simply. "Originally, it was supposed to be blackmail. But instead, this is a present to show our goodwill and faith. To show you our skills. That drive contains information on other gangs, upcoming rogue attacks, chemical breakdowns of Joker Venom and Fear Gas, unfinished antidote formulas, etc. Tucker and his team scoured the underbelly of Gotham and gathered dirt on every single prominent figurehead. Including Bruce Wayne, should you choose to use it."

"I would never-"

"But you've thought about it." Danny cut in and scratched his neck. Jason's hands shook. "It's not a bad thing. It's just the nature of the dead. Wanting to right the wrongs left over from their time with the living. Even if you walk and breathe now, that doesn't mean desire disappears."

"The point is, we need help. Even if I'm loathe to admit it." Sam rolled her eyes, and suddenly, Jason didn't see a potential supervillain in the making. He saw a teenager trying her best, shouldering the responsibility of hundreds of people, both in Gotham and her hometown. Danny looked the same, no matter how other-worldly he was. What battles were they facing? Why weren't there any adults to turn to? What kind of lives were they leading if they immediately trusted a known crime lord with their lives upon the first meeting?

"I'll think about it." Jason finally said. Danny trilled in excitement, and some tension bled out of Sam's shoulders. "If the situation is bad enough, however, I'm calling in someone else for help."

Danny shrugged. "As long as it ain't Batman! I don't think he'll appreciate us smuggling a town of liminals into his city."

Sam poked Danny's shoulder, prompting him to look at her. "Let's go, before you break his brain with more info-dumping. Bye Red Hood!"

"Uh, yeah. Goodbye!" Jason stuttered. He watched the two kids walk towards the exit door, before shimmering out of sight before they even touched the handle.

What the fuck.

#danny phantom #dpxdc #kinda strayed away from the prompt #and that's why its a separate post not a reblog #long post #not beta read #no beta we die like danny #pondhead writes #this leans into more of a ‘Sam did it on purpose but said it was an accident’ #Tucker read the vibes from all the way in Amity and the other two just roll with it #Tucker: we can trust him #Sam: here’s our entire life story then #Danny: I hope you don’t mind us info-dumping :) #Danny will eat anything #he’s a growing boy! (hopefully) #he wanted to look like Dorathea when she’s a dragon #I cannot stress enough I don’t know shit about dc #so if someone is already in charge of the upper east side #then shut up Sam is their boss now #not continuing please don’t ask I will cry #someone else is free to take over from here #it’s literally just brain vomit to get myself going

[whisperinggbreeze]

"Has anyone here heard of a god known as the Crown Prince of Xianle?"

Silence.

"Where did you hear that name?" A voice asked sharply. It belonged to General Xuan Zhen.

"I read it in a scroll, and I was curious why I'd never heard of such an interesting figure," Hua Cheng replied smoothly. "It seems like everyone is in the know except me."

General Xuan Zhen scoffed. "If by 'interesting figure,' you mean 'pain in the ass,' then sure. Be glad you've never heard of him. Don't mention him again."

#mxtx #mxtx fanfic #mxtx tgcf #tgcf #tgcf au #tgcf fanfic #tgcf fanfiction #tian guan ci fu #calamity xie lian #tgcf hua cheng #heaven official's blessing #hua cheng #what does a man have to do to get a straight answer around here #like honestly guys #he just wants to know more abt his new boyfriend dont get angry at him #no beta we die like mu qing's ability to say anything remotely nice or helpful ever #mq is a bitch but we love him for it #actually hc not getting a straight answer makes sense i guess nobody in heaven is straight i think #not even pei ming like idk man you cant tell me he ONLY slept with women #somehow i think ive gotten a little off track here #oh well

[blurglesmurfklaine]

omg I need to hear your thoughts on teachers!Javey because that makes my brain go BRRRRRRR

OKAY OKAY OKAY SO. I can already tell this is going to be long winded so. apologies.

To understand why Teachers!Javey has a grip on my two brain cells like a dog has on his chew toy, we must first understand the types of students they are.

---

Jack Kelly is never really the stereotypical "good" student. He's a ward of the state, probably has some sort of undiagnosed learning disability that all his teachers attributed to him being a poor student with lousy attendance. Reading and writing is difficult for him from an early age, and he's okay with math until they introduce fucking word problems--what is that about? Why are they putting reading in math?

Every teacher from first to fifth grade he has can see that when Jack speaks to his peers, he's intelligent. He's a natural born leader and trend setter amongst the students. It's such a shame he's wasting his potential. It's such a shame that he never finishes his exams on time, and chooses to waste time doodling in the margins instead. It's such a shame he's only ever at school half the time, the other half out and about doing God knows what.

It's such a shame that every single teacher he had for the first eleven years of his life just assumed his failure was a deliberate choice.

But he finds solace in arts and craft time in elementary, and then is delighted to find out he can have art class every single day, for an entire period in middle school.

Teachers get meaner in middle school. Jack's smart mouth gets smarter--or dumber, according to his seventh grade History teacher, who loudly announces that Jack has the lowest grade out of everyone in his class. Jack stops showing up to History after that, but manages to scrape by with a C by convincing this girl, Katherine, to do his work for him, and he'll finish her art project she needs to get her Fine Arts credit.

(They date for a while and ofc decide they're better off as friends)

He meets Miss Medda his freshman year of high school, because the counselors screwed up his schedule and put him in Theatre instead of Art for his elective class. He needs remedial English Language Arts and Reading classes, both of which are during the only Art classes his stupid school offers. But Miss Medda is kind, treats him with respect, and after Jack accidentally leaves his sketchbook behind, offers to let him do backdrops for her plays instead of having to act in them.

Jack really can't afford to make time for this kind of long-term project--he's got to walk his little brothers (who aren't... legally his brothers, but... it's easier to just call them his brothers) home from their school, and then helps them with their homework best he can because he's not going to let them struggle the way he does and Tony is starting to get in fights, which is really, really stressing Charlie out and--

Miss Medda offers to let them stay in the theatre while the younger kids work on their schoolwork and Jack on his paintings.

It's an excuse to stay away from the Refuge an hour longer. It's an offer Jack can't refuse.

It's Miss Medda who first suggests to Jack he might be dyslexic. Jack's never even heard that word before, but it sparks a light of hope in him. He's not stupid. He's just--wired differently.

A diagnosis is not easy to come by. Jack has no legal guardians who can request testing from the school on his behalf, and Mr. Snyder sure as hell isn't going to shell out the money to do it third party. Miss Medda says she's doing it to streamline the testing, but when Snyder calls him in to say she's requested to foster him, Race, and Charlie, it takes every ounce of Jack's willpower not to cry right then and there.

School was never easy for Jack, and it still isn't, but it's amazing how much easier it becomes when he's got something that resembles a home. A soft bed, with clean sheets. A diagnosis. A family.

College is a possibility. It becomes a reality when Medda helps him submit his application to NYU.

Even though he's an art major, he's got to take basics. A computer that can read his assignments to him helps get him through with flying colors.

Medda assures him he doesn't have to do this for her. He's not. He's doing it for the fourteen year old Jack who needed a teacher like Miss Medda--and now, one like him.

---

David Jacobs is the stereotypical "good" student. Math, Science, History--it all comes incredibly easy to him from a young age. But especially Reading and Writing.

He finishes assignments early for the sole purpose of having more free time in class that he uses to read. Six years in a row, he's the top reader in his entire district, even beating out kids in high school starting from the seventh grade.

Students adore him, teachers love him, and his parents are proud as they could be.

Most kids are impressed. Some think he's doing it to show off, but he does it because there's nothing else he'd rather be doing. No amount of parties or dances can measure up to the way the ending to Of Mice and Men broke his heart, or the way Jodi Picoult's Leaving Time put it back together.

He loves analyzing the worlds he's being sucked into, highlighting passages that make him feel a certain type of way, and analyzing them to understand what makes them so powerful. He loves the power authors give their readers--to escape this world, to find meaning in theirs.

When he gets accepted to Colombia, it just makes sense for him to be an English major.

And he loves every second of it.

He loves writing papers and sticking to the most outlandish interpretations of Kafka, joining the campus newspaper club--even all the terrible peer reviews he has to do. He adores it all.

And then he graduates.

Magna Cum Laude, of course.

And David's not really sure what to do.

And a few months of crashing on friends' couches until he can get something published turns into a year turns into eighteen months turns into "Don't sweat it, you'll find something," and "Hey, I know a guy at The World who'd love to have you write columns," and if one more person tells him about the twelve publishers who rejected Harry Potter, he is going to pop a vein.

And then he's working for a Tax Attorney's office as a secretary and he hates every stupid minute of it, but it pays the bills for about a year before the office downsizes due to an actual fucking pandemic and decides he's the first to go.

He crashes with Sarah until quarantine is over. Then he spends another year working odds-and-ends jobs to help her with rent because he is not a freeloader with an English degree, for fuck's sake.

Sarah sends him a listing for a teaching position at a district in Brooklyn. Alternative Certification paid for by the campus. Eleventh Grade English.

It's a steady income, and he has an entire year to get his teaching certificate.

David applies for the position, not expecting to even really be considered, but in this teacher shortage--all the school is looking for, really, is a warm body.

David accepts the job.

He's always been good at school.

---

There's a weird, lanky looking guy who comes into Jack's class unannounced, accompanied by the academic dean, who informs Jack (with absolutely no heads up) that Mr. Jacobs is their newest English teacher and needs three more hours of live Observations before he's allowed to begin his classes.

Jack is less than thrilled at being observed for the last half of the day, but Mr. Jacobs smiles awkwardly and waves and that’s the end of that. Jack is instantly endeared by this guy who is way in over his head.

The academic Dean leaves, and Mr. Jacobs retrieves a binder and notebook from his messenger bag. As Jack resumes his lesson, the newest teacher takes fastidious notes throughout.

Jack has to actively try not to smile when one of his students goes to Mr. Jacobs for help with a guided practice warm up sketch. Mr. Jacobs seems surprised, but easily answers the questions best he can.

At least this new guy seems to care.

---

At the end of the day, David gathers his things into his bag and heads towards Mr. Kelly, extending his hand. “Thanks so much for this, Mr. Kelly. I really appreciate it.”

“Call me Jack.” He takes David’s hand.

“David.”

“Nice to meet you, Davey.” David’s stomach does a funny little flip at the nickname. It rolls off of Jack’s tongue so casually, so easily, that David doesn’t even feel the need to correct him. “If ya have any other questions, lemme know.”

David digs a pen out of his front pocket and extends it to Jack. “No questions, but could I get your signature on my observations sheet?”

“‘Course.”

The pen passes between their hands and with it, a bolt of electricity David wonders if he’s imagining, but hopes he isn’t.

He is not ogling the muscles of Jack’s hands as they sign the papers, and he’s definitely not noticing the way Jack’s smock hugs his waist where it’s tied behind his back, or the way his rolled up sleeves seem to broaden his shoulders.

“I noticed you have pictures detailing the steps on each of your assignment packets,” David says, redirecting his train of thought towards something work-appropriate.

“Reading ain’t so easy for all kids.”

Jack says it like it’s the simplest explanation in the world, with a shrug and an inherent understanding of this demographic that David lacks.

He hands the pen back to David, along with the paperwork, now donning his signature is messy script letters.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. I’m down the hall.” David has never been particularly boy crazy, but even he is not immune to the charms of Jack’s radiant smile. “If you ever need anything, Davey.”

It’s an offer for mentorship, not a marriage proposal. And still, color rises to David’s cheeks, despite his best efforts to remain cool.

“I’ll uh, see you around.” The words come out high and strangled in his throat, eliciting the widening of Jack’s already knee-weakening, cocky, shit eating grin, but David still hopes there’s truth to them.

It’s clear he has a lot to learn from Jack.

---

Jack pops in to Davey’s room once during his own lunch, and is delighted to find out Pulitzer High’s newest addition has the same period off.

The rest, as they say, is history.

Davey is smart as a whip, he’s passionate, he’s organized (which comes in handy on a Teacher Work Day. Davey spends some time helping Jack organize supplies, and Jack hangs up art and decorations he’d made for Davey’s room).

He finds out that teaching wasn’t always in the plan for Davey, it was just something he sort of fell into. And still, Jack can see the effort he puts into his lesson plans, the quick way he’s learning the ropes and never makes the same mistake twice.

Jack knows teachers who’ve been doing this for years, and don’t have the dedication to self-improvement that Davey has.

And not that Jack is into the habit of checking out his coworkers, but Davey sure as hell ain’t ugly.

He's got a smile that makes you feel like a winner, if you've earned one from him, and he's surprisingly strong (as Jack found out on the aforementioned Teacher Work Day, his mind sputtering and stalling like a dying car when he saw Davey haul out three huge boxes of art supplies from his closet).

Lunch together becomes a regular thing. Which means Davey has words to say about Jack's typical lunch--or lack thereof. One day, Davey unceremoniously presents Jack with a Tupperware of latkes.

“Eat,” he orders.

Jack side eyes him. “I got lunch right here.”

“Cup-O-Noodles is not a meal.”

“Lunch doesn't have to be a meal.”

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

"Oh, so you've never heard yourself speak?"

"Shut up and take the damn potatoes."

They're heavenly and damn delicious.

In return, Jack brings him a tub of spaghetti the next week.

"Eat," he mimics. Davey gives him a withering glance and Jack clarifies. "It's my ma's recipe. You won't regret it."

"Ah, so you can be a functioning adult," Davey teases. "You just choose not to."

Because Jack's got exactly two brain cells, and both of them are focused on Davey taking an uncharacteristically messy bite of the meal Jack's prepared for them, he says, offhandedly, "I choose to, for you."

Davey nearly coughs up his spaghetti, but doesn't mention it again.

Other than that, things at Pulitzer High are great. Quiet, even. Easy.

And then they get The Memo.

---

“I honestly don’t see what’s so bad about becoming a charter school.”

“Davey,” Jack hisses. Even though Jack seems upset, it doesn't stop the warmth in his stomach at hearing the nickname. “Davey, Davey, Davey. Charter schools get public funding, but they get to decide which kids stay and which kids go. Those signs that say 100% passing rates of standardized testing? It’s because they kick out anyone who can’t meet it. Including kids with LDs and 504 plans. It ain’t right.”

“Shit, I didn't know that. That's fuckin' awful."

"On top of that, you don't have to be certified to be hired."

"I'm not certified," Davey points out.

"Yeah, but you enrolled in one of them ACPs--so you will be. Charter schools don't require the year grace period because they don't require certification. Look, I'm not saying that every teacher in this country is perfect, or hell, even at this school. But it takes a lot of effort to get certified--even if it's not a perfect system--and I don't think it's something we should bypass. If Pulitzer goes Charter, Admin determines your hours, not the board. And kids with lower income households and undiagnosed LDs are gonna bear the brunt of these so-called higher standards. They'll fall right through the cracks, and ain't nothing we can do about it."

A tense silence falls between them, and Davey isn't quite sure how to respond. He doesn't disagree with anything Jack's said, now that he's informed, but he's at a loss regardless.

"I... Sorry, this sorta shit just gets me all worked up. I feel so... so stupidly helpless."

"No, no," Davey says quickly, reaching across the table to clasp Jack's hand in his. It comes automatically, before his brain has the good sense to cross it. Jack looks down at their twined hands, lips parted in what Davey thinks (hopes) might be a breathless gasp. "I get it."

Clearing his throat, he tears his hands away and tucks them beneath the table. He faces away, training his gaze to the creepy portrait of their school's namesake that's hung in the Teacher's Lounge and--

Shit.

Davey has an idea.

A big, stupid, risky idea.

A big, stupid, risky idea that might just be big and stupid and risky enough to impress Jack Kelly, who almost prides himself on being all those things.

"You know about Joseph Pulitzer?" Davey finally asks.

“Yeah, wasn’t he some big time publisher or something?”

“He was. He also tried raising newspaper prices for kids who made a living selling them.”

“Sounds like a real sweetie. Taking advantage of a buncha kids like that.”

“I mean, they did fight back. Gotta give them that credit.”

“They fought back? Against a giant like Pulitzer? How’d they manage that?”

“Well.” Davey turns to meet Jack’s gaze. “They went on strike.”

#javey #javid #jack kelly #david jacobs #newsies 2017 #newsies #I have…. more thoughts #livesies #so there might be a part two to this???? #or I might turn it in to a full out fic lmao lmk what y’all think #bc this is just kinda *waves vaguely* there #no beta we die like men #also sorry ive never written javey before so dont be mean pls #i havent written anything except klaine in like. ten years lasdjfhdjfsd PLS BE KIND I AM A SIMPLE WOMAN-ADJACENT PERSON

[r2y9s]

My Dear Bunny - Chapter 1

Fandom: Raffles - E.W. Hornung

Rating: M

Relationships: A.J. Raffles/Bunny Manders

Additional Tags: Sugar Baby AU, POV Bunny, POV First Person, I always have this urge to write Sugar Baby AUs and Bunny is my newest victim, WIP

"My dear Bunny! Is that really you?" Hearing my old school nickname in this familiar voice stirred something long locked away in the pit of my stomach. I ignored it. Pulling myself together, I shifted slightly on my client's lap to get a more comfortable look at my old schoolmate.

"Why, Mr. Raffles!" I said with as coy an air as I could muster. "What a strange surprise."

#aj raffles/bunny manders #sugar baby au #r writes #crime and cricket #bunny manders #aj raffles #raffles #do they have a ship name #anyways i hope u don't mind me putting my writing on here too? #no beta we die like men #also i'm not familiar with the etiquette for posting fic on tumblr so sorry if the post is out of sorts #also haven't written in a long time so apologies for the dust #also also been writing this at work bc i'm avoiding uh. work. trying to look busy lmao. #really just for my records too but if someone else likes it then that's fine #will i ever actually finish this? who knows. #might be just an episodic thing we'll see #the title is also a work in progress #i couldn't think of anything better lmao but it's fine #my dear bunny

[zenpouji-isaku]

22-44: Carelessness is Forbidden!

The Headmaster has relied on Tachibana to deliver a secret message. He wears a disguise and hides it to pass through an checkpoint. There, Kisanta and Shinbei show up! However, why are these two not coming over like usual?

Hi! I haven't stopped thinking about this genkin trio episode since I posted about it a few days ago, so I sat down and subbed it in one entire sitting. I love this trio with all my heart. Senzou's so exasperated all the time around these two but he does genuinely care about them! daawww

Screencaps are homebrew this time though. Featuring the new font! I changed it this time for ease of watching. Hope its more legible this time around! and not too goofy looking LOL

mega link here: (x)

youtube link here (unlisted): (x)

#nintama #nintama rantarou #rkrn #I FEEL BAD FOR HIM THOUGH because if anything #hes very skilled and good with disguising #his missions always just go belly up #mine #fansubs #genkin trio #this was pretty quick and painless to work on actually! very fun! i have a few more episodes in mind #but i just had some time today! so here we are #no beta we die like senzous hope for completing a espionage mission whenever the genkin trio gets together

[the-cat-at-the-theatre-door]

Coricopat and Mistoffelees with Coricopat POV, if you want to

There is something...unique about you - uneasy, raw - but somehow profound.

-Jaal Ama Darav (Mass Effect: Andromeda)

Coricopat believes, in however many years he’s been on the planet, however many lifetimes, that he has become a good judge of character. 

...

Perhaps that is unfair; he believes that the telepathic abilities granted to him by the Everlasting Cat has made his ability to get a moderately complete read on cats within moments of meeting them of statistically higher quality than the average tom.

That was more accurate.

So one would think, then, that when it came to matters of companionship, of developing and budding connection, that he was otherwise at a higher advantage than others; however, the truth was (and perhaps always would be) that this was simply not the case. 

Coricopat’s handle on the abilities granted to him were about as strong as they were wont to be, but applying them practically to situations where practicality was perhaps demanded wasn’t always something he was able to do. Heavy and rapt contemplation and introspection was a forte moreso of his sister; she was able to learn cats quicker than they could open their muzzles, which was fascinating, surely, but often - in her words - boring. Of course that wasn't to say he was incapable of such depth of thought and analyzation; he was more than well equipped. But Coricopat is only flesh and blood; his heart bled and his tongue often tripped over itself were he not careful. There had been more than one occasion where he'd received the judgement of "creepy" or "unsettling" before he'd even had the chance to make their acquaintanceship. And while that did not cause him the level of upset it perhaps should (or, at least, that's what he'd repeated to himself enough times until he started to believe it), it had prompted him to change his approach early on. Jellylorum had said that one could catch more flies with honey than with vinegar; Coricopat was not certain what comestibles had to do with pest control, but it seemed to agree with his hypothesis. And Jellylorum had rarely steered him wrong before.

As it was, Coricopat found simple pleasure in the process of keeping himself at enough of a distance so his connections with other cats came about organically; he did not particularly enjoy digging around for secrets, nor did he find any entertainment in prying for details. He figured, in due time, were he meant to know a cat in its entirety, that they would reveal themselves to him when they wished to do so. Once they did, then he could pass his slowly brewing judgement upon them and decide whether he liked or disliked their company. Until then, he was nothing but patient, and pushed little more than a placid smile plastered on his muzzle that hid the depth of his thought - that was perhaps why he had an easier time than Tantomile did. Learning others in their entirety in one sitting seemed dreadfully dull - especially since so many cats seemed, in his mind, very much the same. Easier to just turn it all off and see what happened.

That did not, however, completely remove his compulsion to...peek a little bit. Just under the surface. As said: he was only flesh and blood.

Mistoffelees appears suddenly and with little fanfare when the moon is at its fullest, bellied with the extent of its magic. He is much like a spider, long limbed and careful stepped, casting his skeletons beneath him as though on display for other cats to forebode. His features seem to shift as he does, never quite solidified on the flat plane of his face, ears curled up - an outline of horns in the trick of light. There is an air about him that seems to cast off a presentiment of warning, radiating the tantalizing energy of a brightly lit flame in a cloud of unsuspecting moths.

But Coricopat is not afraid of him. Peeking has its benefits, though no amount of telepathic ability would have truly prepared him for the tangle of thorns that was the Magical Mr. Mistoffelees.

Mistofeelees, he displays very quickly, is in fact magical. The emphasis was purposeful; Coricopat has never met a cat outside of his sister and Old Deuteronomy who was so drenched in magic. Being in his presence was like being before a roaring fire with nothing more than matchsticks; he feels practically drunk with it. Coricopat, comparatively, is no more than a kitten playing in his mother's belongings, his own practical magic bending beneath the sheer force of Mistoffelees' will with barely more than a nod of his head.

But when he catches Coricopat staring unabashedly at him from the shadows on the night they meet, he immediately notes how Mistoffelees' yellowed eyes betray his age - his exhaustion. That, he feels, creates far more of a lasting impression than anything else. There are cracks in the mask he wears, and burns that stain his paw pads black, and points of starlight poking through his skin. Foreboding, perhaps. But there is more bubbling just beneath the surface - pulsing through translucent veins that Coricopat can almost see if he focuses hard enough.

Coricopat is fascinated, there is no other word that better described it; if curiosity killed the cat, he would gladly be slain just to comprehend even half of the scrambled whole that was presented before him.

“You speak so strangely," Coricopat breathed to him one evening when he comes across the strange tom in the clearing, reciting his tongues while turning in circles. "Where have you been?”

Mistoffelees does not blink at his presence - not much surprises him. He flourishes his paws out in a grand gesture of showmanship and chuckles; it sounds just like the bells that Coricopat and Tantomile had once worn on their collars, many moons ago back when they had been one. Coricopat's chest tightens. “Here and back again.”

They are fast friends after that. Mistoffelees remains in his company, he says, because Coricopat is quiet and generally unobtrusive. Coricopat thinks, vainly, that it is perhaps his unquestioned understanding that is more attractive to the other tom than any such frivolous traits. He does not need to explain magic or rebirth or the inherent complexities of his existence - does not need to explain the depths or the beyond to him; there is a name that Mistoffelees whispers against the shell of his ear, tittering as though having shared an inside joke, that resonates deep within him. Coricopat was born with this understanding.  He is more than equipped to deal with any such oddities that come along with it.

Yet, as much as he knows of what Mistoffelees is and what he could do, he has very little idea as to who he is. 

At first glance, he reads little more than several loose stitches attempting to repair a wide, gaping hole; as though he were too big for his body, at one point, and had attempted to stuff himself back in its skin. To contain, perhaps. There is something of this cat that he holds behind the sharp of his teeth, the tilt of his head, that he doesn’t want others to see. There is an uneasiness in how he connects with other cats - much like Coricopat himself. As though he was...uncertain to the extent he was able to. As though he were afraid. He feels it when Mistoffelees gets close to him - when he notes the rabbit quick beat of his heart and stares searchingly into his eyes for explanation where there is none.

Though he is not quick to admit it, Mistoffelees is kind as he is tricky. He is kind in his tolerance and kind in his actions, even when the furrow of his brow would suggest otherwise. Coricopat has seen him tenderly breathe life back into ivy that had given up halfway up into the light, seen his expression pinch at the mention of sickness and plague, wholly undelighted by their destruction - unexpected reactions from one who claimed to have been born of shadows. Yet Coricopat feels the suggestions of their warmth echoing persistently in his head. It makes him feel...light. And weighted. At the same time.

There is one moment in particular that solidifies his fledgling assumptions, but it brings with it more trouble than Coricopat had thought it would.

Dead animals in the Junkyard are not uncommon things; there was a time for things to die just as much as there was a time for them to live. The two toms come across the downy pile of feathers at the tail end of their stroll, Coricopat having spent the evening attentively listening to Mistoffelees tell him where the constellations had once been, many moons before cats had even roamed the planet. He had barely noticed how much time had passed, occupied as he was.

It looks, Coricopat figures, to have been a fledgling, just shy of flying on its own, twisted at a miserable angle. He glances up; the nest is empty. Abandoned, then, by its kin when it had failed its biological mission. Shame. But not, then, a sneak poking its paws where it didn't belong as he'd first suspected; there was no dignity in a cat who hunted the easiest of prey, in Coricopat's opinion. Absolutely no sport in it. No, this was perhaps crueler, but more fair in nature's paws, at least.

"There is nothing fair in that," Mistoffelees says slunk up to his side, having come to a similar conclusion. Coricopat could feel the tendrils of him poking around in his mind; he cannot explain why, but he feels chagrined, lowering his ears as though he had just been scolded.

Mistoffelees tsks and breezes past him to examine the tiny body. He sniffs at it delicately, wrinkling his nose as though the smell were rancid. Coricopat wonders if he means to eat it, but says nothing.

Instead, he watches as Mistoffelees scoops the feathers from the earth and holds the bird in his paws, covering it near entirely.  Coricopat feels his heart flutter as he observes the concentration set on his brow, the gentle curve of his claws in a cage of ribs the bird no longer had. Mistoffelees presses his paws close to his lips and starts his muttering, much of the same that he had heard in the clearing what seems now like a lifetime ago. Coricopat does not understand a single word, yet feels as though he understands everything. He almost asks what the other tom is doing, but quickly thinks better of it.

Then, suddenly, Mistoffelees opens his eyes and his paws, and, in a cacophony of feathers, the bird flies away. Whole and alive. Remarkable. 

“No use in wasting life,” he murmurs, staring up towards the sun where the bird had disappeared.  There is slightly less life in his face than there was a moment ago; as though he'd given some small shard of it away. There is a sudden urge in Coricopat to reach out to paw at the latticed shadows beneath his lashes; reveal their own sun underneath.  "It is wasted enough.”

And it is immediately then that Coricopat reaches his final verdict.

Mistoffelees only ever appears as a half. Half of who he was, half of who he could be, but Coricopat contents himself with the half he is given. He is impressed and fascinated by the half he is given. He is, regrettably and inexplicably, very much in love with the half he is given.

Perhaps, someday, he would tell him as such.

And perhaps, someday, he would accept it.

#no beta we die - not like anything we just die #see i told you i never forget anything #Mr. Mistoffelees #Coricopat #coricoffelees #fanfiction #my fanfic #yeah i used a mass effect quote shut up #it does help though that i kinda associate jaal's voice with coricopat tbh #who better to relate to the beyond than another magical cat i wonder

[skatehepburn]

The Case for Karlach x Jaheira

Jaheira historically has a thing for lil sweeties with a heart of gold who are brave despite their fear

Canonical mutual admiration! And I'm Gay About It!

Karlach's imminent death is a pretty good equalizer on the age gap thing lbr

They're both kind of above the fray of the game in a way that makes me want to smash their faces (among other things) together

I just think it would be neat!!!

#karlach x jaheira #literally no one is arguing with me i'm just trying to justify this fic for myself #none of my usual fic friends have played bg3 so i might have to no beta we die like men with this one #one thing about me if there's a mean older woman in canon i will crawl across broken glass for her #karlach is the gillian greenwood of baldur's gate in this essay i will #is it brain worms or an illithid parasite who can say #i'm going feral does anyone want anything

[crymeariveronceagain]

@obsidianstrawberrymilk thanks for the prompt, have some mediocre fitz angst!!!

#kotlc #kotlc fitz #fitz vacker #kotlc keefe #keefe sencen #just dudes being bros #kotlc fanfic #fanfiction #this is a REALLY sad fic highkey #and its very mediocre #so dont expect a miraculous anything #its just #cringe sad drabble #unedited #no beta we die like men #kotlc fic #kotlc fanfiction

[windfighter]

Kouji learns about Eurovision

Kouji had been zapping for 20 minutes. Every show on the television was either in Swedish or had Swedish subtitles, and he was back to channel one for the 15th time. He threw the remote onto the table and leaned back.

”We need to get some Japanese channels here.”

”Or you could learn Swedish”, Yamato called from the kitchen.

”I’m learning Swedish when Windy learns Japanese.”

”Did I hear my name? :3”

Windy peeked up from behind the couch and Kouji jumped.

”Shimatta! Where’d you come from?”

”This is my house.” She crawled over the back of the couch and grabbed the remote. ”Anyway… it’s May!”

”Okay…?”

”Do you know what May means?”

Windy was smiling and Kouji frowned. May meant almost summer, but he was pretty sure that wasn’t what Windy was after. Something dropped to the floor in the kitchen and Yamato came into the living room to glare at Windy.

”We are not watching that!”

”Why not? It’s the best thing ever!”

”It’s an affront to music!”

”Du är bara arg för att du inte kan ställa upp!”

”I’m 16, I’m pretty sure I’m allowed to compete. It’s a horrible mess and you know that.”

”Kouji hasn’t seen it though.”

”And his life is much better for it.”

”What are you two talking about!?”

”Eurovision”, Yamato and Windy answered as one.

It didn’t answer anything and Kouji stared at them.

”It’s a music competition”, Windy answered. ”Nothing like Idol though, it’s much better.”

Yamato turned around and headed back into the kitchen.

”Jag flyttar tillbaka till Japan.”

”awww, kom igen!”

Windy got up to follow him and continue the argument. Kouji grabbed the remote and started zapping again. Maybe he should learn Swedish.

-----------

It was a week later. Eurovision had not been mentioned again and Yamato hadn’t moved back to Japan. Kouji was sitting outside, enjoying the sun while studying. Not Swedish, since Windy still wasn’t learning Japanese. But visiting friends in Sweden didn’t mean he could just skip school, so he had to keep up or be forced to return home.

”I’m supposed to be living in Stockholm”, Windy sat down next to Kouji and ignored the fact that he was studying, ”but I decided to change my back-story. It’s my AU and I get to make the rules.”

Kouji raised an eyebrow, but didn’t look away from the book.

”Well, I guess technically it’s not just my AU, but I’ve adopted it as mine by now.”

”Why do you never make sense?”

”...it comes with being part data, I think.”

Windy looked at the sky and fell quiet. Kouji continued working on the math assignment. He could hear Yamato play music somewhere inside the house. The silence lasted for about 10 minutes.

”Do you… miss Japan?”

Windy didn’t look at him. Kouji closed the book and thought about it for a couple seconds.

”A bit, I think. Mostly I just miss my friends, and niisan.”

”Not your parents?”

Kouji shook his head.

”I don’t know okaasan enough to miss her, ’kaasan and I still don’t have the best relationship and ’tousan is… yeah.”

”I don’t remember my parents.” Windy’s fingers gripped the grass and tore it from the ground. She looked at it, then let it fall back. There was frost on it. ”I’m not sure I even had some.”

”Everyone has parents.”

”I just had senseis.”

Kouji glanced at Windy.

”That’s a Japanese word. ...with English plural. Please don’t butcher my language like that.”

”It’s not Japanese! We just called them that so they wouldn’t know we were talking about them.”

”’We’?”

Windy frowned.

”I don’t remember. There’s… just void when I try to remember them.”

The music stopped. Kouji didn’t know what to answer and Windy pulled her knees to her chest and leaned against them. The window opened behind them.

”Are you thinking too much again?” Yamato asked through it. Windy laughed.

”A little. Did the smell of burning disturb you?”

”I’m just amazed it didn’t scare away Kouji.”

Kouji shook his head. Windy grabbed one of his books and opened it. Yamato was still leaning out the window.

”Anyway, sensei isn’t Japanese, it was our made-up language we used when we didn’t want anyone to understand us.”

”Yeah, no. That’s a Japanese word”, Yamato said and Kouji grinned victoriously. Yamato tilted his head and looked at Windy. ”Maybe Japanese is inherent to digimons.”

”I’m a human”, Windy huffed and got up from the ground, leaving the book in Kouji’s lap again. Yamato lifted his hands into the air and Kouji looked curiously at the two of them.

”Definately human”, Yamato said.

”Of course you’re human”, Kouji said and frowned. Was he missing something? ”What else should you be? A vampire?”

”En alvvampyrsjöhäst”, Windy answered and laughed. Kouji realized he’d never understand her and shook his head. She patted his shoulder and left, walking towards the lake they lived nearby. Yamato didn’t move.

”You’ll unlock her backstory one day”, he said.

”Would be easier if she had been a chosen kid as well, then we could have just watched the anime.”

Yamato laughed.

”She wants to watch Frontier again, you up for it?”

”Reliving my worst and best experience? Wouldn’t dream of missing it.”

Yamato climbed out the window, waved goodbye to Kouji and followed Windy. Kouji shook his head and went back to studying.

--------

Windy and Yamato were baking cooking in the kitchen when Kouji got back from a walk. Both of them were covered in flour and he snorted before grabbing an apron to help out.

”What are we baking for?”

”Eurovision is tonight”, Windy smiled and threw a handful of flour at Kouji. ”Gotta have something to nom while we watch it.”

”So we’re watching it?”

Yamato let out a sigh.

”Might as well let you see what she’s all excited about.”

”It’s music, how can you not be excited? You’re in a band.”

”I was, we split up last year.”

”You and Kouji can form a new one.”

Yamato laughed.

”As long as you don’t sing.”

”I’m a great singer I’ll let you know”, Windy said with a pout. Kouji shook his head.

”I’m not that good at the guitar, I just learned enough to be a pest to ’tousan.”

”We could get Mats and Kouichi to join the band as well, it’ll be great!”

”Uhu”, Yamato added chocolate to his cookies. ”And what are we calling this band?”

”Den frisexuella djurparken!”

Yamato’s cheeks grew red and the bowl he had been working in fell to the floor.

”Vi kan inte kalla oss något sådant! Baka! What do I do with you?!”

He hid his face in his hands and shook his head. Kouji blinked. Maybe he should just go back to Japan so he’d get out of learning Swedish. Yamato sighed and picked up the bowl again.

”It makes sense”, Windy continued.

”It can make all the sense in the world, I still won’t be in a band called that.”

”Mats thought it was a good name!”

”Of course he did, the two of you are insane.”

”I agree about that, I’m not getting what the issue is though?” Kouji tilted his head and Yamato groaned.

”She want to call the band ’The Freesexual Zoo’ because that is an absolutely normal name.”

”When you put it like that it sounds bad”, Windy tried to defend it.

”...I’m glad I’ve already rejected the band-idea”, Kouji muttered and threw a handful of flour on Windy. ”Anyway, Eurovision?”

Windy forgot about the bowl she had been working in and Yamato took it before she would push it to the floor. She turned to Kouji with a huge smile.

”Sweden’s song wasn’t my favorite, I wanted us to send Roma, but I’ll admit it’s catchy. Not sure we’ll win though.”

Yamato shook his head.

”It’s just like any other radio-song, it’ll probably do okay, but I don’t think it’ll place top 5.”

”I meant, what is it?”

”A music contest! Singers from all over Europe get together and then the viewers get to vote for who’ll host it next year. It’s a huge spectacle and so many different songs.”

”It’s supposed to show off Europes diversity in cultures and languages”, Yamato said and rolled his eyes, ”but almost everyone sings in English so… mission failed.”

”I like when I can understand what they’re singing.”

”Should just learn all the languages of Europe.”

”I tried learning Spanish, but nothing sticks, I hate my brain.”

Windy flopped onto the table in overdramatic fashion. Yamato patted her knee and continued making cookies. Kouji finally got started on his own batch.

”I probably got hit over the head one too many time back in Fabriken.”

Kouji glanced at Windy. Her eyes were glued to something in the ceiling.

”Faburiken?”

She smiled at him and jumped up from the table again.

”It’s… Swedish for school”, she said. Kouji raised an eyebrow because there was something in her smile that looked off.

”You’re even worse at opening up than me and Yamato.”

”Well, Yama is a cat so he opens up when you give him bellyrubs, you’re a wolf so you open up with food. I’m an iceberg so I’m more prone to sinking ships than letting anyone know what’s beneath the surface.”

”There’s just more ice down there”, Yamato said. ”Also you’re a bloody puppy.”

Kouji snorted.

”Starting to understand the zoo-part now.”

Windy beamed.

”So you’re up for starting a band?”

Kouji laughed and smiled towards her.

”Absolutely not.”

---------

Eurovision wasn’t… completely horrible, Kouji decided one hour into the show. Yamato was busy working on a laptop, but would look up any time Windy slapped his knee and demanded he watched the next contestant. She had sung along to the Swedish entry and Yamato had smushed her face into a pillow, which meant a pillow fight and them missing the next entry. The first batch of cookies they had made earlier was already gone and Yamato had brought out the muffins instead after his offer to make some actual food for them had been politely declined.

The songs weren’t completely horrendous, not that Kouji could understand them. He wasn’t sure what he thought about the shows they put on, but perhaps he just didn’t understand european culture as well as he thought. School really never taught you enough about things outside of your own country, he realized.

”I can’t decide who I want to win”, Windy said and leaned back in the couch.

”They’re all valid winners”, Kouji said.

”Except Sweden”, Yamato muttered.

Windy looked ready to argue and Kouji realized Yamato only said that to get a rise out of her, but instead she let out a sigh.

”Yeah, Sweden’s entry sucks. Should have sent Nanne like the people wanted.”

”I always feel like I’m missing half of the conversation when you two get started”, Kouji noted and kept watching the show. The last contestant ended their song and Kouji turned to Windy. ”Is it over now?”

”Now comes the part that brings Europe to war!”

”...I’m not sure you should sound that excited about it.”

Windy blushed and turned to the television again.

”It’s not like it’s a real war or anything, baka.”

”Do you even know what ’baka’ means?” Yamato asked without looking up from the laptop.

”Since you call me baka all the time I just assumed it meant something like sweetheart.” Windy had a teasing smile on her face and Yamato rolled his eyes. Windy snorted. ”I’ve seen enough anime with subtitles, I know you’re calling me idiot.”

”Europe, start voting NOW!” the hosts of the show announced and Windy leaned back.

”And now we wait for five hours or something.”

”Five hours?” Kouji asked and glanced at the clock. The show had already been going for one hour and forty-five minutes and watching for another five hours seemed overkill. Yamato smushed Windy’s face with another pillow.

”It’ll probably just take one hour or something, but you’re free to head to bed if you need to.”

”You’ll miss mellanakten though, that’s the best part!”

”I can probably stay another five minutes”, Kouji laughed.

”And now we would like to leave you with a very special performance”, the host continued as the voting ended.

The scene turned dark and something that sounded like a windchime chimed before the drums started playing. A sign at the bottom of the screen let Kouji know that it was the ”Kyiv Percussion Ensamble ARS NOVA”, not that he knew of them.

”They’re great”, he said and Windy and Yamato nodded.

The camera swooped back and over the stage and focused on a lone person. Another sign – ”Anatoliy Zalevskiy – body artist” – let them know what was up and Windy frowned.

”Body artist is not a phrase we learned, what is that?”

”I’d assume an artist that use their body as medium”, Yamato said but didn’t look up from the computer.

”He moves like water”, Windy said. ”I don’t understand this, but it sure is something.”

”Maybe it’s not meant to be understood”, Kouji said. ”Sometimes art is just meant to be felt.”

”Wow, Eurovision sure made someone philosophical”, Windy said and nudged Kouji’s side. Kouji hit the back of her head and she laughed. ”He’s amazing, you think I could move like that?”

”...iceberg”, Yamato laughed.

”You’e not wrong”, Windy answered and let out a sigh before sinking down furher in the couch. She leaned against Yamato and he put the laptop on the table beside the couch. The drums started playing again and then the camera zoomed over to a group of people in red clothes.

”Last year’s winner”, Windy said just before the sign informed them of exactly that. She frowned. ”I think I prefered that song.”

”She has a pretty voice”, Yamato said.

”Are you leaving me for Ruslana?”

”Would it matter?”

”Nah, just figured it’d be Sora you left me for.”

Yamato shrugged. ”She was together with Taichi last I heard, although that was 2 months ago.”

”Do you need me to leave?” Kouji asked because he wasn’t sure where they were going.

”We’re not flirting”, Windy said a little too quickly and Yamato shook his head.

”We really aren’t, Windy wouldn’t know flirting if it hit her over the head.”

”I’d argue but it’s true. I’m not interested in getting a partner anyway. Maybe when I’m an adult and have Villa, Volvo and Vovve.”

Yamato snorted.

”And 2½ kids.”

”And 2½ kids”, Windy said with a laugh. Ruslana’s song ended and the votes were starting to roll in. Windy got up from the couch. ”Anyone want a drink?”

Kouji shook his head.

”I’ll head to bed, I’m sure you’ll tell me who won tomorrow.”

”I’ll take a cup of coffee”, Yamato said and Windy threw a coaster at him.

”You know I don’t know how to make coffee. Make it yourself.”

”One day I’ll teach you.” Yamato got up from the couch and stretched. Windy disappeared into the kitchen and Yamato turned to Kouji. ”We don’t mean to make you feel like a third wheel or something, sorry about that.”

”It’s fine”, Kouji said, but he wasn’t sure he was telling the truth. ”You’ve known each other for a long time and I’m a newcomer in this friend-group, it happens.”

”Still, I’ll try to cut it down a bit.”

Kouji got up, and started heading off, but turned to Yamato again.

”What’s wi-la, woruwo and Wouwe?”

”Villa, Volvo, Vovve. House, Car, Dog. The three magical Vs for Swedes that everyone gets when they’re adults. Volvo is a Swedish car brand.”

”Ah.” Kouji thought for a second. ”I’m not sure I’d trust her behind the wheel.” ”She doesn’t trust herself behind the wheel so you’re not wrong.”

Kouji laughed.

”Yeah… dewa, oyasumi.”

”Oyasuminasai.”

Yamato turned around to head into the kitchen just as Windy came out from it. She looked at Kouji and blinked.

”Off to bed?”

”I’m tired”, Kouji shrugged. ”We can make more messes in the morning.”

”If you wake me up before ten I’m not responsible for what happens”, Windy said with a smile. ”Anyway, god natt. Sweet dreams.”

Kouji waved goodbye and disappeared back to his room. Maybe next year he could introduce Kouichi to Eurovision.

#my writing #camp nanowrimo #crossover #digimon frontier #digimon adventure #det digitala hotet #kouji minamoto #yamato ishida #self insert #eurovision #no beta we die like kouichi #just some very selfindulgent crap #it has an audience of 1-2 people and one of them is me xD #so if you read it without being the targetet audience #thank you and I hope you enjoyed it :3 #even if you have absolutely zero context for anything that's going on :3

[bibimbinge]

patiently waiting for fanfics to be written and uploaded because i am a mere consumer and enjoyer of anything when a fan is insanely into a specific character and plot

#if you need a beta reader for any bl character ship hmu im open to read anything #or you can just not beta we die like men and post the fic and send a link #MY INBOX IS OPEN

[nymphoheretic]

˜”*°•.˜”*°• Plaything •°*”˜.•°*”˜

Synopsis: You've been caught in his trap. And now you're his little plaything. The Upper Moon 4, Hantengu, more so you belong to the 4 clones.

Warnings : smut, gangbang with Hantengu clones, oral(male and female receiving), anal, Double Penetration , degradation, biting, marking, Electroplay, Spit as lube Rough sex , cervix fucking, Monsterfucking , wing play, praise, Blood Kink, creampie, finger sucking, squirting (let me know if I missed anything!)

Word count : 4.6k

Pairing : Hantengu (all four clones) x fem!slayer!reader

A/N: I have no words for this. It's basically straight porn and I know tumblr is gonna slap a label on it. So, check it out on my AO3(same name). I'll link it in my bio/pinned post.

Special thanks to @bleuboyfriend for beta reading it for me! You're amazing Luke!!

Tags: @bakugosbratx (cause I'd get yelled at if I didn't) @herohibiscus (karaku brainrot partner in crime) @linpunny (monsterfucker bestie) @fushisslut (have your lawyer call mine) @sirenspider @unknownspecies @sailewhoremoon @potofstewie @medusashima @sweetblueworm @gh0stfac3-w1f3y @zoroarkstar @potatoboiasta @rav3enmuse @gingerspicelattemix @redsharksimp @shadowvessel172 @hiitogata @iamthepaninpanic @yandere-wishes @tommyinnit-kinnie @maddyybtw @rani-02 @hulahoopingpro @justsomereaderwholikesanime @dedukiddu @shockinglysubmissive @cherryblossomsenpai @cherry1hearts @violxtbxbyy @jeschalynn @jazzthatonewriterchick @comatosebunny09 @ilovetwodmen @cockadodalcuck @nightimewalk-chan @enchantedforest-network

You're not sure how it even happened. You were summoned to slay a demon that had been spotted in a village; only to find a cowardly little imp like Demon that was scared of its own shadow. Cutting its head off wasn't too difficult, but the result was devastating for you. The demon split into four clones of itself. Each one with a different demon blood art. 

They cornered you and the green one, Karaku found you to be so very interesting. His clawed hand reached out and caressed your cheek before tipping your chin back. His tongue – marked with the Kanji "pleasure" – slipped past his lips and touched your lips, tasting them. A deep purr like growl rumbled in his chest as he speaks to his counterparts.

"It's been so long since we've been separated and had a little plaything. We deserve to have some fun, right, Sekido?"

His green Kanji branded eyes flickering down to your torn top – the swell of your breasts inviting him as his mouth watered when he could hear your heart pounding beneath your ribcage. Your eyes dart from him to his three other counterparts. His fingers tilt your gaze back to his as he tilts his head down towards yours. “Ne, Sekido, can we have some fun with this pretty little slayer? Please?”

Sekido grits his fangs, his red Kanji branded eyes narrowing as he taps his staff on the ground, bolts of lightning sparking from underneath. His gaze cuts to your eyes and he can smell the fear that emits from you – saturating the air around them in its scent. He growls out, voice guttural and deep. “Only if Aizetsu and Urogi agree.”

Karaku grabs you in his claws and sits you down in his lap, easily pinning you against his chest  as he spreads your legs. One hand cupped your breasts, pinching your nipples as the other dug its palm into your core, eliciting a moan from you. The sound was like heaven to his ears. Karaku’s tongue touches the shell of your ear before his fangs nip at it playfully. “Aizestu, Urogi, c’mon say yes. I wanna play with our new toy.”

“Get your hands off of m–” Your words die off in a moan when he rubbed two sharp clawed fingers over the damp spot forming over your panties.

“Hmmm, little plaything. You were saying?” He ground his fingers harder against the clothed little pearl of nerves, making you squeal out. “Just look at my counterparts. Hard just from watching us. You all should join. If not, I’m still going to have fun.”

Urogi’s control finally snapped as a feral grin spreads over his lips when your musky scent permeates his senses. His own tongue – marked with the Kanji “Joy" – flicks out of his mouth as he drops to his knees in front of you. “Fuck, she’s sexy. And we get to have fun with her. Don’t mind if I do.” When Karaku ripped your panties off and tossed them to the side, Urogi wasted no time diving his face between your thighs, his tongue curling through your sticky folds.

You arched your back, pressing your ass back against the other demon’s crotch, involuntarily grinding against his hard cock as the one with golden eyes feasts upon your center. It was ironic that the one with “pleasure” on his tongue was not the one between your thighs. You whimpered when Urogi’s tongue curled through your cunt, slurping messily as he sucked on your clit.

Aizetsu whimpered softly as his cock twitched against his thigh, rising to attention. He watched as his two more confident counterparts have their fun with the pretty slayer. “Karaku.” He said finally, his voice soft almost timid. “I think you should be the one eating her while Urogi fucks her throat.” His face flushed as he palmed himself through his pants. “And Sekido should use his blood demon art to shock her into submission as she takes his cock first.” 

Karaku grinned. “That’s a great idea, Aizetsu!” He laid down on the ground, relaxing against the cool floor as his hair fanned out underneath him. “But I think I’d rather her ride my face while Urogi fucks hers.” Easily holding down your hips, he grabbed you and pulled you away from Urogi’s tongue, a string of slick mixed saliva connecting you to the avian-like demon.

Urogi pouted at having his fun ruined, but grinned at Aizetsu’s words. The little shy bastard has some good ideas in that sorrowful mind. He cackled as he fumbled with the tie that held his pants together as Karaku settled you over his awaiting mouth. His talons caressed your face, thumb wiping at the tear that threatened to fall. “You’re going to be a good little cocksleeve for us, right?”

Sekido growled at the softer, more timid counterpart as he tapped his staff against the ground once more. “What utter foolishness. Like I want to stick my cock in that little whore’s body.” But his hard cock betrayed his angry words as he listened to your saccharine moans while his counterparts had their way with you. His narrowed red eyes watched as your throat bulged as Urogi slid his cock in deep, the yellow-eyed demon giggling as you tapped his thigh.

Growling once more, he dropped to his knees, pulling his dick out of his pants and fisted it roughly. His fangs grit as his claws of his other hand found your hair and yanked your head back to force you to meet his eyes. “You should feel lucky that I’m willing to fuck a needy bitch like you.” His palm smacked against the meat of your ass, making your hips buck against Karaku’s eager tongue and forcing more of Urogi’s cock down your throat.

You let out a whimper around the thick girth on your tongue as you feel Karaku dig his claws in your hips, pulling you even further down onto his mouth. He slurped so noisily at your pussy as his tongue dug orgasm after orgasm out of you. You lost count. Your moans were muffled by Urogi as he thrust into your mouth without abandon. Another pathetic sounding moan vibrated in your chest when you feel Sekido’s claws dig into the fat of your ass and spread your cheeks.

Shame filled your body as your eyes darted around, searching for someone to help you, but they only found Aizetsu, who was calmly stroking his cock, pre leaking – oozing from the tip as his face flushed with a blush. 

Aizetsu covered his face with his hand as he watched his counterparts. His voice was soft as he directed them on what to do. “Urogi, wrap your hand around her throat, choke her until she’s able to take all of your cock down her slutty little mouth. She doesn't get th breath if she doesn't. Kakaru suck on her clit more while using your tongue to fuck her hole. Sekido...” He pauses, his eyes darkening with desire as he works his hand over his cock faster. “Prep her ass for your cock.”

Your eyes widened when Aizetsu told the red-eyed demon what to do. You try to shake your head, but Urogi had wrapped his talon around your neck, his hips snapping faster as he fucks more of his cock down your throat.

“Now, pretty little plaything. It's not nice to be distracted. Eyes on me.” He grins as he tightens his hand around your neck, relishing in the choke-like moans that vibrated around his length. When you shift those big teary eyes back to his, his tongue fell from his mouth as he curled it in the air. “That’s the fucking look! Cry more, slayer!”

You could feel Sekido’s sharp claws dig into your flesh as he lowered his face between your thighs, his tongue slipping out to trace the ring of your puckered little hole. You couldn’t help the whimper that escaped. Sekido’s tongue was hot – hotter than Karaku’s. It felt like currents of electricity were shooking up and down your spine. 

Karaku flicks your clit, scraping it with his fangs as his fingers slip over your clenching hole. He lifts you off his face for a moment to stare up at your face. “Aww, is the pretty little slayer crying?” He cooed condescendingly, “Such a good girl you are.” His praise sounded fake as he pushed his fingers past the first ring of muscles of your dripping pussy. “Oh? Maybe I should call you a slut? Or our little cocksleeve whose only purpose is to be fucked by four demon cocks?”

Moaning around Urogi’s cock at Karaku’s filthy words, words that sounded like they were dipped in honey to your hazy mind. His fingers thrust up into you twisting and turning until they found that spot that made your body twitch and wreath above him. “That's the spot. Come on, let go for me. Cum on my tongue. I take pleasure in it.” Karaku mocked as he licks your cunt with the flat of his tattooed tongue.

“Shit, Karaku. Her throat tightened up when you did that.” Urogi’s cock twitches on your tongue as his talons tangle in your hair, pulling you even further down on his girth. “Fuck, gonna cum down this nasty throat. That what you want? My cum painting that greedy mouth of yours?” His smile was beyond feral as the talon around your neck tightens to the point where you couldn’t breathe.

Sekido growled as you ignored him in favor of his counterparts. His tongue circled the flesh of your asshole before pushing past that tight ring and wiggling inside. “Don’t fucking forget about me, nasty bitch.” He used his blood demon art to send streaks of lightning through your body, making you convulse and shake – the feeling making your body release your juices on Karaku’s tongue.

“Did I fucking say you could cum, dirty slut?” Sekido removed his tongue, fangs biting deeply into the roundness of your cheeks, nails digging into your flesh. He relishes in the fact that you had to pull away from Urogi to scream out from the painful pleasure of his abuse of your ass. Your blood trickled down his throat and he moaned a little at the taste of it. It was sweet – a potent elixir that coats his tongue. “Fucking delicious.” 

Aizetsu whimpered as he stroked his cock, his hand still covering his blushing face. His balls felt heavy as his length twitched against his palm, precum dribbling down the leaky tip. He was trying his best to remain calm, telling them how to please you. Aizetsu was shy, but even he had a limit on how much he could take – and he was approaching it. “Karaku, fuck her pussy hard, but don’t cum inside. Sekido, stop teasing her and give her your cock too. Spread her ass and spit in it. Urogi, have her suck your balls.”

Urogi eagerly did as Aizetsu told him, fisting his cock as he tilted your chin to stare deeply into your teary eyes. “Fuck, I love that you're being such a fucking crybaby and we haven’t even fucked you yet.” His thumb slipped into your mouth, talon scraping over your tongue. “You heard Aizetsu. Open up.” Urogi grinned as he placed his balls on your tongue and tossed his head back and lets out a mewl when your lips closed over them to suckle. “Such a good fucking whore you are.”

Karaku licked his lips clean of your sweet essence as he slid you down his chest, a trail of your slick coating his skin until his throbbing cock nudged at your hole. He shuddered at the feeling of your warm pussy gliding over his length. “Gonna fuck you so good. You gonna be a good little toy and take my cock all the way, yeah?” He lined the sticky tip up with your dripping hole and pushed inside with a low moan.

Sekido spread your ass cheeks, his eyes narrowing at the sight of your twitching little hole. Gathering a fat glob of saliva on his tongue, he lets it slide down past his lips to drip down into the crack. He used his thumb to smear it around and slowly pushed it inside to lubricate it more. Sekido lined his cock up with your tight hole and slowly pushes past the ring of muscle. “Tight ass bitch. Let me inside.” He growled as he gripped your hips tightly, claws threatening to rip your skin again.

You stiffened at the pain of being stretched so full by two cocks, the burn almost unbearable. Your moans were muffled by Urogi’s balls still suckled between your lips as he stroked his cock above your face. You whimpered as you felt them taking alternating thrusts inside you, touching the deepest part of you. Tears burned at the corners of your eyes as you could feel your body reacting to them, clenching down on them.

Karaku grinned as he felt your walls flutter and hug his dick tightly, sucking him in deeper. His finger squeezed in between your bodies to toy with the sensitive pearl of flesh. He watched as your back arched against him, shoving more of your ass back onto Sekido’s cock Laughing when he felt your nails dig into his chest like that would make him stop. “You’re so cute, slayer, but Aizetsu said to fuck you hard...” Karaku planted his feet on the ground more firmly, his claws digging into your thighs as he grabbed you tightly. “So, that’s what I’m gonna do.”

Sekido grunted as he snapped his hips roughly, bullying his fat cock deeper into your tight ass. A growl left him as your warm heat wrapped around him, hugging him so tightly. “F-fuck...” He whined softly, his face scrunching up from the pleasure. “Squeezing my dick like this. You must want me to fucking cum in your ass. You’re such a filthy little cumslut.” He grabs your hips so tightly, nails digging into your flesh and causing fresh blood to drip down onto Karaku’s waist.

Urogi’s tongue slipped out of his mouth and curled into the air as he laughed loudly, his cock throbbing at the sight of your tears. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum if you keep looking up at me with that face. Those fucking tears make me so hard. You want that? For me to cum on your face like the needy whore you are?” His voice shudders as his hand speeds up. “Or you’d rather I cum down the fucking throat, plugging up your nose so that you have no choice but to swallow?”

Before you could even answer, Aizetsu made the decision for you. “Make her swallow it, Urogi.”

“You heard him! Open up!” The yellow-eyed clone giggled as he pushed his cock back between your lips, dragging the throbbing hot flesh across your tongue. The tip hit the back of your throat and Urogi howls with pleasure as he grabbed the sides of your head to hold you steady as he fucked into your mouth.

Aizetsu’s face was flushed even as his blue eyes darkened – his control was wearing thin as his cock throbbed with the need for release. His hand wasn’t enough. He wanted to be inside your snug little pussy. He wanted to be the one to fill you so full of cum that it caused a bulge in her belly. Aizetsu bit his lip, fangs piercing the plump flesh and blood dribbled down his chin – which he quickly licked away. Soon. He’d let his counterparts finish first. 

Karaku’s hips meet yours as his cock bullied your insides, his tongue out to show the kanji etched on it as his eyes zero in on the way Urogi’s dick bulged in your pretty throat. “Fuck you’re taking all three of us so well.” His fingers tighten around your thighs – they were sure to leave bruises behind, marking you as his. Karaku grit his fangs as his balls slap against your cunt, cock tingling with the tale-tell signs of his release.

He had half an inkling to ignore Aiztesu’s command and cream this drippy little pussy of yours with his cum, paint your deepest parts in his color. But he was kinder than that. Aizetsu has been telling them just how to pleasure you, all while edging himself. “Go ahead.” He leaned up and nipped at your collarbone, sucking at the skin to leave more of his marks behind. “Cum on my cock. Soak it. Y’know you want to.”

Sekido threw his head back, hair fanning out as sweat dripped down the side of his face. Your tight little ass was giving him so much pleasure. His balls tightened as his dick throbbed and swelled inside. “Fucking bitch. Gonna cum in this filthy ass of yours. You’re just a fucking cumdump for me, got it?”

“Fuck, I’m about to cum.” Urogi grins as his talons pinched into the skin of your cheeks as he thrust in and out of your drooling mouth. “Take it! And don’t waste a drop!” With a few more deep thrusts, his hot milky seed filled your throat at such rapid speed that you had no choice but to swallow or choke.

Karaku moans loudly as his hands leave your thighs to squeeze your breasts as he felt you tighten and clench down on his cock as he found that sweet spot, pressing on his repeatedly until he felt you shaking and trembling. “Give it to me, pretty little plaything. Soak me in your juices. Let me see you make a mess like the good little slut we’re training you to be.”

You tossed your head back as you let out a loud cry. “Oh fuck!” You screamed as you came hard on Karaku’s dick, rings of cream frothing around the base as he continues to fuck you through your high. “I...I can’t. Please stop.”

Sekido grunted as he slid his cock out and pushed it in deep – stretching the tight muscles into his shape. “Shit.” He grit his fangs tightly as his claws cut into your skin once more. “Tch.” The red-eyed clone scoffs at the feeling of your blood coating his fingers. Taking his hand, he grabbed your cheek and forced your lips to part. “Suck your filthy blood off my fingers, bitch.”

The metallic taste that covered his fingertips coats your tongue as Sekido fucks into your tight hole with fast deep thrusts as Karaku’s mouth sucked on your nipples, his fang scrapping over the swell of them as his own thrust began to grow more and more sporadic.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Karaku moaned as he slammed into you once, twice, three more times before he pulled out and fists his slick covered cock. “Shit...” Cum paints your lower stomach and thighs as he finished and breathes heavily as your slick pussy lips grind over his half mast dick because of Sekido’s brutal thrusting.

Sekido grabbed one of your arms and pinned it to the small of your back, forcing you into a deeper arch for him as he fucked your ass with fast, hard snaps of his hips. His cock tingled and swelled inside you as he felt his end nearing. “Slutty ass bitch. You gonna cum from me fucking and filling your ass with my seed? I bet you are.” His teeth grit from the feeling of your tongue swirling around his fingers as you clean the blood off of them. “Fucking...I’m cumming. Cumming...!” He snarled as he came hard, spraying your insides with his hot cum.

You moaned like a cat in heat from the feeling of Sekido filling your tight, puckered hole – it creamed around his cock because it was so much. You collapsed on top of Karaku, chest heaving. “No...” you swallowed. “No, more.”

Karaku runs his claws soothingly over your back, his grin never leaving his face as he heard Aizetsu slowly making his way over to where you were. “But you only took three of us. There are four of us.” He reminded you as the shy blue-eyed clone pulled you up and into his arms.

Aizetsu cupped your cheek as he lifted you up against him and wrapped your legs around his waist. His lips found yours as his tongue seeks out yours. He swallowed your muffled cries and ignored your fists as they pound against his chest. He lined his weeping cock up with your hole, lifting your hips easily.

“Wait a second, Aizetsu. I ain't get a turn to fuck her.” Urogi said as he flew over to the two of you. “Lemme have her ass.”

Hands spread your ass cheeks, cum still dripping out of the tight hole of your ass. “This ass?” Aizetsu whispered as he slid inside your pussy with one fluid movement, your arms automatically wrapped around his neck as you moaned so beautifully for him. “G-go a-fuck-ahead.”

You let out a shocked gasp when the yellow-eyed avian-like demon let out a cackle as his talons wrapped around your shoulders as he lined his cock up with your still twitching hole as Aizetsu slowly thrust up into you. “No, please. I can’t take it anymore.”

Aizetsu turns your face back to his, his tongue – the Kanji “sorrow” etched into the pink muscle – sliding out to lick at the tears that gathered in your eyes. “You can, pretty slayer. Aren’t we making you feel so good? Tell me I’m making you feel good, please?”

Urogi ignored your pleas and pushed the fat tip of his cock past the tight ring of muscles, his knees buckling a bit. “Fuck, you’re so god damn tight. Such a horny thing.” He licked a line up your back, tasting the sweat that covered it. “You love having two cocks in your tight ass and cunt, right?”

Karaku felt left out and walked over to where his counterparts were and grabbed your hand. “C’mon pretty slayer, touch me too.” Wrapping your fingers around his cock, he used the movements from the other two thrusting up onto you to fuck your fist. 

You wrapped your other arm around Urogi’s neck, nails digging into his back as he and Aizetsu pound into you. You could tell the difference between the two by the pace. Aizetsu was slow, methodical and careful – building up an orgasm out of you. While Urogi fucked into you at an animalistic pace, his balls smacking against the curve of your ass. Your mouth dropped open into a series of drawn out curses, nails digging into Urogi’s back as the other squeezed Karaku’s cock.

“Oi, human!” Sekido growled out, not liking that he was the one left out now. “You got one more hole, let me–” He started to take a step towards them, his cock bobbing as he moved when all three of his counterparts glared at him.

“We wanna hear her.” They growled. The sounds of your moans were like the sweetest of sounds to their ears and they wanted to hear it more and more.

Aizetsu angled his hips so that his thrusts were deep, the thick tip fucking against your cervix with each precise thrust. His mouth drops open in a whimper as his eyes teared up from the feeling of your pussy quivering around him. “Please. Need for you to tell me that I’m making you feel good, slayer. I need to hear it.”

Each word of his last sentence was punctuated by a deep thrust and your head fell back against Urogi’s shoulder. “Fuck! You’re making me feel so fucking good.” You gave into the hypnotic spell Aizetsu was lulling you into with his gentle and tender touches.

Urogi laughed as he picked up speed, his balls starting to tighten with the threat of his release. “You’re damn right we are.” His feathers ruffled when your nails dig into the skin between them. “H-hey...” He mewled. “Not the wings.” The avian-like demon lets out a screen when your hand grabs the downy feathers near the base of his wings. A shudder goes down his spine as his dick swelled inside you as it began to paint your walls with his thick cum. “Fucking dammit...” 

Karaku watched as Urogi fell to his knees, his cock popping out of you as he did so. Aizetsu took that time to turn you around, hands wrapping under your thighs so that he could easily lift you up and down on his cock. “Don’t mind if I do.” He shoved the yellow-eyed clone out of the way as his lips attached to your clit.

The scream you let out was like music to them as Sekido begrudgingly walked over to use your hand to stroke his cock to completion. Your other hand wrapped around Aizetsu’s neck as you moaned those sweet sounding cries in his ear, encouraging him that he was still making you feel good. His lips nuzzled your ear as his voice rumbled, “Cum for me. Let me feel you soak my cock. That way I really know I’m making you feel good.”

“Yeah, our pretty plaything. Cum for Aizetsu and let me taste it. You can squirt, right?” His tongue swirled on your clit, teasing it with the tip as the blue-eyed clone thrust into you so deeply that your body jerked, hand tightening around Sekido’s cock.

“Fucking shit, bitch.” Sekido cursed, the tip drooling with pre as he felt his balls draw up, the telltale sign that he was about to cum. He fucked your fist faster, the slick sounds of it echoing in his ear. Sekido lets out another grunt before he spilt his seed, coating the top of your fist with it. “Making me cum like that...you’re such a whore...” he panted.

Aizetsu bounced you on his cock, determined to make you cum – to make you squirt so hard you passed out from the pleasure. His fangs grazed over the shell of your ear before he stuck his tongue in your ear as he felt you tighten up on his length. “Just let go and be our plaything.” He whispered.

Your back arched like a cat as you felt your thighs tremble, clit throbbing on Karaku's greedy tongue. Your chest heaved as your body convulsed, cumming hard, squirting – the hot clear liquid drenching Karaku’s face and dripping down Aizetsu’s thighs.

“Good fucking girl.” The green-eyed clone praised after he swallowed what he was able to catch on his tongue.

Aizetsu let out a whine as he trailed his tongue down the length of your neck before biting down gently on your pulse point. His thrust sped up until he was pounding into your soaked pussy. “Oh fuck. Oh shit...” He whimpered, tongue lapping at your pulse as he felt his cock twitching. He wasn’t to last much longer. “Gonna cum. Gonna cream this pussy. Say that’s what you want. Please tell me you want my cum.”

In your hazy fucked out mind, anything he said sounded heavenly. You mewled out weakly, “Want your cum. Give it to me.”

No sooner than those words left your throat, Aizetsu gave you a few more deep, cervix kissing thrusts before his hot cum spilled over inside your needy cunt. “Take it. Take it all.” He whined out as he fucked it deeper into you. “You’re our plaything now.”

Even you had to agree, You’ve become the plaything of the Upper Moon 4, Hantengu – no, the four clones, Sekido, Urogi, Karaku, and Aizetsu.

©️2022-23 nymphoheretic - I do not give permission to copy, edit, alter, or distribute my work. Do not adverse on tiktok. Do not repost on any other platform.

#nymphomanic♡ #kny smut #kny karaku #kny aizetsu #kny urogi #kny sekido #demon slayer smut #demon slayer x you #demon slayer x y/n #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #kny x you #karaku x reader #urogi x reader #sekido x reader #aizetsu x reader #kny hantengu #hantengu x reader #hantengu clones

[fairysluna]

Hi! Could I please request another threesome with Cregan, reader and Jace. Maybe they get jealous when they see reader with another men and want to teach her a lesson? Thank you and love your blog!

i get drunk on jealousy.

Modern!AU — After they've ignored you for a week, you were desperate to have their attention back. Flirting with a random guy might not be the best idea.

MASTERLIST

PAIRING — Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader x Jacaerys Velaryon.

TAGS — polyrelationship/polyamorous, m/m/f, smut (p in v, clit play, handjob, oral sex, creampie, spitting, cum eating, male on male action), jace x cregan, use of alcohol and drugs, kind of drunk sex, dom!cregan, switch!jace, sub!reader, jealousy, cursing. If something is missing let me know!!

AUTHOR'S NOTE — Don't expect so much of this fic, I saw this picture, I saw a vision, and basically my horniness wrote this by itself. Not my best work, but fuck it, this is just for fun. Also, this made me realize that I'm unable to write dom!Jace if Cregan is there too, oops??? I guess??? NO BETA, WE DIE LIKE MEN.

I took this request as an excuse to write this fic so... thank you for sending it and hope you enjoy this!🤍

WORD COUNT — 3.1k

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤenglish is not my first language.

Most people on Campus knew about your strange relationship with Cregan and Jacaerys. Some guys would often call you a whore behind your back, while some girls would prefer the term ‘lucky bitch’; it was no secret that the both of them were quite known for being handsome and gallant, almost acting like real life prince-charmings. Every girl would drool for them, acknowledging their chivalry and politeness. Of course, they already knew about the attention that they received from the opposite sex, they knew about how many girls would love to be in your position. Which is why they didn't understand why you were so eager to act like a brat.

Jace tapped Cregan's shoulder as he saw you chatting with some random guy that suddenly appeared next to you on the couch. Neither of them had seen him before, he was probably a freshman or someone that sneaked into the party without invitation. Both pairs of eyes were intently staring at you, watching every move you make. They knew you weren't oblivious enough to not see it; he was obviously flirting with you, and you were clearly enjoying every moment of it. Jacaerys, being the most jealous out of the three of you, tightened his grip around his bottle of beer, his fingertips turning white as Cregan turned to look at him.

“Don't do anything stupid,” he warned him. “She'll deal with us later.”

“But look at her!” Jace snapped, his breathing ragged.

“She's doing it to piss us off,” Cregan attempted to calm him down. “She won't do anything with that guy. Just wait until the party's over and we'll take care of it, okay?”

He looked at him, obediently nodding as he took a long sil out of his beer to calm down a bit. Jace forbade himself to turn your way, ignoring your desperate attempt to make them jealous. Cregan, being a lot less hotheaded than Jace, acted nonchalantly toward your attitude, pretending you were doing nothing wrong, even when he wanted to grab your arm and take you right in that couch just to clarify that you belong to them.

Cregan knew your purpose, you both had spoken about it earlier that day after one of your classes together. They both have been ignoring you, neglecting your needs and spending more time alone — without you. At first you didn't mind it, thinking that they were busy with the final exams and their final projects of the semester; however, when you knew they were using all that time to plan this stupid party you got pissed, almost screaming at him in the middle of the campus, frustrated. Now here you were, sitting with a freshman trying to get in your pants, all while they were still ignoring you.

Both guys spent the rest of the night drinking, playing some games with other members of the fraternity and having a blast while you were standing in a corner, alone and bored; your two lovers out of your sight. Perhaps that was why you couldn't see Jace searching for you everytime he could, unable to control the jealousy that had grown within him. He couldn't find you anywhere around, which made his mind overthink about where you were, and with whom. Cregan would try to calm him down, offering him his blunt which Jace would accept in order to relax.

Hours passed, it was 4am when the music stopped and everyone passed out in random parts of the fraternity house. Cregan and Jace were stumbling their way up to their dorm, the effects of the alcohol still lingering in their bodies as they struggled to reach for their room. They both were holding onto each other until they opened the door and saw you standing in front of the mirror, wiping off your make up and getting ready to sleep. They noticed you had moved their beds together, making a bigger one as you usually do whenever you stayed with them.

They entered the room in silence, and while Cregan was closing the door and turning the lock, Jace stood closer to you almost drooling once he saw you were wearing one of his shirts. He wrapped his arms around your waist and hid his face on the crock of your neck, leaving wet kisses all over your skin and completely forgetting about the fact that he was supposed to be ignoring you.

“You're so fucking weak, Jace,” Cregan scolded him, removing his shoes and shirt, getting ready to bed.

You turned to look at the eldest guy, who just ignored your intense gaze.

“You're mad?” you dared to ask.

“We both are, actually,” Jacaerys murmured against your skin.

“And why would you be mad? I should be the angry one!”

“Oh, really?” Cregan finally turned, stepping closer to you. “Why is that?”

“You know why! We talked about this and you decided to keep ignoring me!”

Stark laughed dryly, his gray eyes getting darker as he narrowed them. “Is that why you've been acting like a fucking whore tonight? Trying to get into a freshman's pants to get our attention. Fucking pathetic.” He took a step close enough to grab your jaw and force you to look at him. You tried to squirm away from him, but Jace's arms tightened their grip around your body, and you had no escape. “Jace couldn't even enjoy the fucking party because he thought you were sucking another guy's cock. You think that's fair? To make him feel like shit the entire night because you were just needy of attention?”

“I- I didn't-”

“You broke my heart tonight, sweetheart,” Jace whispered in your ear as his fingers reached the hem of your shirt. “You need to pay for what you've done…”

“I'm- I'm sorry, I never meant to-”

“It seems like you need a lesson,” Cregan interrupted you, tightening his grip on your face and making you whine. “Something to remind you that you belong to us.”

Jacaerys' hand cupping your core with one of his hands, burying his fingers between your folds and covering them with your growing slick. He giggled, “she's not wearing panties…” he informed, smiling up at Cregan who clenched his jaw.

“Get her on her knees,” he commanded, and the youngest obeyed immediately, letting you go from his firm grip.

You fell to your knees, scratching them with the raspy carpet beneath you. Jace removed his shirt as Cregan started to unbutton his pants until they pooled around his ankles along with his underwear. You whimpered once you saw his cock starting to get hard under your haze, your mouth watering as you leaned towards his side.

“Get on the bed,” he pointed at Jace. You tried to stand up and follow the instructions too, yet he stopped you by gripping the front of your head and pulling it back. “Not you,” he sternly said. “Open up.”

Obediently, you did as you were told, opening your mouth and letting him press his tip on your tongue. He gave it a few taps, teasing before ge finally decided to start fucking your mouth. Cregan grabbed the sides of your head to keep you still in your position, and his hips started to snap against your throat without further warning. You found stability when you placed your cold hands on his thighs, grasping onto them so you wouldn't lose balance as he had no mercy with you.

You looked up teary eyed, gagging and gulping loudly as you heard his moans slipping out of his plump lips. The small eye contact suddenly became too much for him, so he leaned his head back as he closed his eyes. “Such a delicious mouth,” he praised you, “taking my cock so fucking well.”

His grip around your head started to hurt a bit, his fingertips burying in you as he fastened his pace. It wasn't hard for you to become a mess; your own drool was falling down the corners of your lips as you cried out, your whines being muffled by him inside your mouth, and your slick already starting to leak out of you. Your arousal only grew once he buried himself completely in your mouth, grabbed the back of your head and forced you to stay there for a few seconds, with his length fully sheathed in your throat. Your nose brushed against his pelvis as the air started to escape from your lungs.

“Come on now, baby,” he murmured with a strained voice, feeling his cock pulsing inside your mouth. “Take it… take it all…”

He chuckled softly as you started to tap on his thigh, and he quickly let you go. You gasped once he pulled out of your mouth, gasping for the air your lungs desperately needed. He moaned softly once he saw you; tears on your face, drool falling down your swollen lips — you looked so pretty he even thought about letting you go unpunished and just please you, but then he turned to see Jace; his cock was achingly hard, his ruddy tip leaking as he desperately fucked his fist; he had been so good to you, and you made him feel so bad throughout the night; he deserved a reward, and you deserved a punishment.

Before you could react, Cregan grabbed your body with ease, lifting you up from the ground and carelessly carrying you towards the bed. You moaned with his touch, so needy of him that even his roughness made you squirm out of pleasure. He moved your body around as if you were a ragdoll, shifting your position in bed until you were sitting on top of Jace's pelvis, his cock right between your legs. For a second you thought it was finally the time for them to fuck you, but you were so wrong.

“Grab her hips,” he commanded, using that mandatory tone that drove you and Jace insane. “Don't let her move.”

He positioned himself between the boy's legs, leaving you more confused than before. “What- what are you-?”

“I'm teaching you a lesson,” he stopped you before you could finish your question. “You'll see what happens when you behave and when you don't.”

You saw him leaning down, his plump lips wrapping the tip of Jace's cock and making him squirm beneath your body. Your mouth dropped as you looked at Cregan taking him entirely, his haze fixed in you as the frustration in your body grew even more. The youngest had his nails buried in the flesh of your hips, you heard him moan so prettily that you could even feel the slick oozing out of you, even when you were untouched. It was such a sinful image to witness, especially when Cregan's eyes became teary once he gagged around Jace.

“Oh, fuck…” you mumbled, tears of despair gathering in your eyes as your breathing became ragged. “P-please touch me…”

Jace's hand attempted to reach for your throbbing clit, but the older grabbed his hand and pushed it away. “I'll stop if you touch her,” he warned him. All you could do was cry out.

Cregan's ragged breathing would reach your folds, causing shivers all over your spine. You would try to move your hips to at least rub yourself against Jace's skin, but he didn't allow it, holding you down so tightly that you were certain it would leave a bruise.

The moans turned into whines as Jace started to quickly feel the orgasm coming. His skin was burning as Cregan fervently sucked on his tip, using his tongue to clean up the precum spilling from his slit. Whenever you would cry out or move on top of him he would feel closer to the edge, his body burning inside. “I'm so fucking close, baby,” he whimpered, “keep sucking my cock, I'm- I'm gonna fucking cum… f-fuuck.”

You saw Cregan hollowing his cheeks, milking Jace dry as he came inside his mouth. Drops of the pearly seed escaped from his lips and you felt the need to lick them both clean. You needed a taste, anything that would make you feel some kind of relief.

He sat back up, and as soon as he laid his hazy eyes on you, he grabbed your neck pulling you closer towards him. As if it was a reflex, you opened your mouth while you stared at him through your glossy eyes. He let his spit fall onto your mouth, to then pull you close and fervently kiss you. The salty taste of Jace's release lingered in your mouths as you devoured each other, you would whine against his lips, still sobbing as your pussy was already aching for the lack of attention.

That's when the boy beneath you wrapped you between his arms, forcing you to lay on top of his chest. He didn't even let you catch a break before you felt his cock slowly making his way inside of you, and you gasped out of relief. He stretched you out, providing you with that sweet sting of pain that drove you insane. His hands grabbed your thighs, folding you in half as he started to thrust upwards.

“Don't ever forget who you belong to,” he grunted against your ear as you struggled to keep it quiet. Probably the whole house knew what you were doing, and maybe that was their purpose all along. “You're fucking ours, baby. This tight pussy belongs to us, do you hear me?”

Cregan's hand fell hard on your throbbing clit as you remained silent. A whine left your lips as Jace kept bullying your gummy, wet walls with his girth.

“Answer him,” he demanded, getting closer to you and placing his leaking cock on top of your swollen pearl. You felt the room spinning.

“Yes! Yes! I'm- fuck… I'm fucking yours,” you sobbed.

The whole situation became overwhelming, while one was burying himself in the deepest part of you, the other was rubbing himself on your sensitive flesh, searching for his own release as he wrapped his hand around your throat.

“Fuck, you're fucking squeezing me so tight, baby,” Jace moaned, breathlessly as he felt the mixture of your slick falling down his sack. The lewd sounds of your folds getting stretched by his thickness almost making him cum again. “So fuckin delicious…”

“We've just started and we already fucked her silly,” Cregan chuckled. “She's a fucking mess for us…”

A layer of sweat covered your body; you felt the blood burning inside your veins, the orgasm approaching you embarrassingly fast as they were stimulating your senses. Your eyes rolled back, the desperate pleads slipping out of your lips as you were begging them to make you cum. You were shaking, your face covered in tears as the moans were ripped out of your throat.

“So loud,” the older teased you, “gonna wake up the whole fucking house…”

“I- I need to… please, I need to cum!”

Cregan leaned towards you, and Jace instinctively fastened his pace, burying himself deeper and harder; you had a hard time thinking straight as the older’s hands tightened around your neck. “Ow, poor girl, wants to cum. I don't think you deserve it.”

“P-please, Cregan…”

“Work for it,” he demanded. “Make Jace cum and then you're free to do it too.”

Almost as if it was an instinct, you started to move your hips up and down Jace's cock, making the thrusts more intense and deeper. The younger moaned loudly, already feeling overstimulated by your movements and feeling his sack heavy with a new load of his release. He thought about how pretty you would look with your legs spreaded and his seed falling from your weeping hole; that image alone almost made him peak right in the spot.

“Jacey, please!” you whined, already growing tired. “Please, please, cum in me!”

“Want me to fill your pretty cunny, baby? Mhm? Want my cum inside of you?” he teased, and you rolled your eyes as your walls clenched with his filthy words.

“Yes… yes, please… give it to me, please…”

As a spectator, Cregan groaned loudly, quickly rubbing his hands around his shaft with his eyes fixed in the way Jace was filling you up, bewitched by that bulge in your belly that grew each time that he would bury himself deep inside of you, touching your sweet spot over and over until your head feel dizzy and all that left your mouth were incoherent mumbling.

“I can't… I can't hold it…” you sobbed.

“Come on, baby, I'm so fucking close, just wait for me,” Jace whimpered, his movements getting more desperate and sloppier.

“I can't! I can't! F-fuck…”

Everything came to a breaking point once your release gushed out of you, spurring all over them and making a complete mess. Neither of them could hold back after such an obscene view in front of them, and they were quick to follow. Jacaerys finally spilled himself in you, his seed painting your walls and filling you to the brim. Lastly, Cregan stained your shirt and flesh with his pearly drops, moaning so beautifully that it made you feel butterflies in your belly.

You hissed when Jace pulled out of you, feeling your legs shake while Cregan struggled to stand up from the bed and looking for something to clean you up while you laid against the younger’s body, who softly wiped the tears out of your face.

“Shh… it's okay, you did so good for us, my love,” he cooes, so gently. “So, so good.”

“I'm- I'm sorry,” you mumbled while Cregan returned to your side with a towel in his hand. With soft brushes he started to clean your thighs, your belly and the raw flesh between your legs. “I- I never meant to make you two feel bad… I was- I was being so selfish-”

“Hey,” Cregan stopped you, holding your face with gentleness; so different from his previous touch. “It's already behind us, okay?”

Once he finished cleaning you up, your body fell into Jace's embrace as he wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you closer to him and cuddling with you. He hid his face on the crook of your neck and softly hummed when the remains of your sweet perfume reached his nose.

“We love you so much,” he whispered, “please, don't ever do that to us again…”

You grabbed your face only to see his puppy, brown eyes. A gentle, soft kiss was shared as you felt Cregan laying down behind you and fondling your body, soon you three had your limbs tangled as you kissed and caressed each other without shame. Loving touches that relaxed all of you.

“I'm sorry,” you whispered again to the both of them. “I'll never do that again.”

“Do you promise?” Cregan asked.

“I promise,” you softly nodded.

The Northern boy leaned to leave a soft kiss on your cheek, you both shared a gentle smile which let you know that the anger that was once within him was now fully gone.

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CREGAN TAG LIST — @purplequxxn @iloveharbingers @jeongiegram @koobratzy @foxyanon

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[livinginshambles]

I want to be loved first | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.0k

Summary: Established relationship and angst: James still loves Lily, it's clear to you. You try to ignore the way your heart aches when you always seem to be second on his mind, knowing you will never compare to her and unsure how much more you can take.

Notes: Its happy ending again, sorry guys. I'd say no beta, we die like fred, but that feels too soon so anyway, spelling and grammar mistakes probably.

Masterlist

____________________________

People have often told you that you need to toughen up and grow a spine. That your lack of backbone had everyone trample on you like you were a crosswalk, and you could definitely say that they were right.

Perhaps that's why you were crying in the middle of the night because of James Potter. He was laying behind you, pressed against your back with an arm draped over you. His face was hidden in the back of your neck, breathing steadily against it as he slept peacefully, unaware of the heartache he was causing you when he whispered Lily's name. Again.

When he'd done it the first time, your blood had run cold, goosebumps showing up and littering your bare arms. Tears had prickled in your eyes at his barely audible, mumbled confession. "Love you so much Lily."

You had turned around to face him and your rustling had woken him up. Eyes still closed, he'd groggily shifted and pulled you against his chest. “Everything alright, love?”

“Yeah, just a nightmare,” you had responded in a small voice. Your answer had him finally open his eyes, somewhat concerned. He had lifted his arm to yawn against it and then settled it back on top of you in such a way that his hand had easy access to your nape, drawing circles in an attempt to calm you.

“I've got you, love. Nothing can hurt you, as long as I'm here,” he had assured you.

Ironic.

So now here you were lying down, your tears were freely rolling down your face and you were glad that the curtains of the bed were closed, leaving you in a private space, despite sleeping in the boy’s dormitory. It would be another sleepless night for you, it seemed.

When James stretched his arms to reach for you about four hours later, he frowned and sat up, confused at the lack of your presence. He pushed the red drapes aside and peeked into the room. Sirius was still asleep, face down. Peter was most likely curled up inside the pile of blankets on his bed and Remus was sitting up in bed, a book in his lap.

Even though it was the weekend, and you were anything but an early bird, you slipped out of bed in the early morning. You were sure that your eyes were red and puffy and didn’t want James to mention it.

He looked up when he heard James and raised his eyebrows in question when he noticed no one else behind him. “Have you seen Y/N?” James asked, sleep still heavily laced in his voice. Remus shook his head in thought. “No,” he whispered quietly, an eye on Sirius beside him. “I’ve been up since four in the morning though.”

James’ frown deepened. That meant that you had snuck out before that. But why? He got dressed impressively fast and descended the stairs to the common room. You were sitting at the tip of your chair, deeply engrossed into your transfiguration assignment, several books piled, some laying open, scattered across the small table.

You felt two arms securely wrap around you, almost melting in their designated position. “Morning,” James kissed your cheek.

You bit your lip, took a breath, and cast your hurt feelings aside. You turned your head and flashed him a smile. “Good morning, Jamie.” James took the opportunity of your head, tilted upwards at him, and dipped down to press his lips softly against yours, pecking you once, twice. “You’re up early,” he commented and nudged you. He slipped behind you, body fully relaxing into your back now.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you replied honestly and you leaned back into him. You laughed softly when you noticed his eyes drooping. “You’re tired, Jamie. Go back to sleep.” James made a sound but didn’t move, instead slouching even more against you.

“Hm, no, I missed you this morning. I’ll stay here,” he decided and drifted off to sleep. You didn’t doubt that he loved you.

“Go on a date with me next Friday,” James asked you while he was escorting you to your herbology class. You looked up at him surprised. “A date?” you dumbly repeated, trying not to be too excited about the prospect of a date. James usually ended up having things to do that he really couldn't get out of, so you would always end up canceling your dates.

James laughed and slung his arm around your shoulders. “Exactly. You and me alone. I was thinking of a picnic by the lake, no one else around, and maybe we could snog, but I’m also down to cuddle.” Your eyes crinkled up amusedly. “Don’t you have Quidditch, Jamie,” you raised your eyebrows. “You always have Quidditch practice after class,” you pointed out.

“Not next Friday. I already checked to make sure I didn't double book anything, and I warned Pads that I'm not taking on any new pranks until next week to avoid detention.” he grinned. “Friday will be one of those rare days when I have time to have my girl all to myself the entire afternoon.” His face then turned apologetic. “I know I don’t have much time to take you out, so Friday'll be perfect and I’ll make it up to you.” You threw your arms around his neck and hummed appreciatively in it. “I’d love that.”

James wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in for a kiss. “Prongs!” Sirius shouted from a distance. “Everyone is already waiting for you for Quidditch practice, how far are you going to escort her? I mean the greenhouse is on the other side of Hogwarts, mate,” Sirius complained but he blew you a dramatic kiss that James waved away with a sour look.

“Go on,” you laughed and untangled yourself from his arms. He quickly pressed a kiss to your lips and sprinted off towards the Quidditch field.

James dropped into the seat next to you. “Long time no see, love,” he said. You snorted. “James, I saw you two hours ago.” James shrugged, and flirtily smiled. “I said what I said.”

Professor McGonagall entered the classroom and class started. You were jotting down everything she said in a neat handwriting, knowing that James would end up asking to lend your notes, of course by offering kisses in return.

You glanced beside you and were surprised to find him hunched over his notebook, scribbling away. Impressed at the thought that he was actually paying attention, you couldn’t help but peer down at his notes and saw that he was sketching a girl.

Though he wasn’t the greatest artist, you could clearly see that the girl on the paper looked nothing like you, and instead had features that were strikingly similar to Lily. When James looked up from his drawing and glanced to his right where she was sitting, her eyes focused on Professor McGonagall, you felt your heart constrict again, but still decided not to comment on it. He was free to draw whoever he felt like drawing, you reminded yourself.

Jealousy is ugly.

You were sitting in the library, helping a third year with Defense against the dark arts theory, when James barged in, earning several disturbed looks and a threatening glare from the librarian.

“James?” you called to him quietly and motioned for him. James’ eyes spotted you and he slid over to you, wringing his hands together, biting his lips and his eyes darting around.

“You’re nervous,” You remarked while you eyed him up and down. “Or you feel bad. What is it?”

James let out a deep sigh at your bluntness, though he supposed it would be better to get straight to the point. “We can’t go on a date next week, I’ve got prefect stuff, gotta patrol.” You stared at him, your disappointment was visible on your face and James looked at the ground.

“But you already had patrol this week? Isn’t it every other week?” You asked, a bummed out look on your face.

“Well, actually, Lily asked me if I could do rounds with her next week,” he admitted. “Her usual assigned partner was injured during Quidditch practice apparently.”

“Oh.” You didn’t know what to say. You were pretty sure she could ask anyone else for next week or just do the rounds herself as you’ve seen James do it alone for two weeks too when his assigned partner had gone home for a family emergency.

“Is it really vital that you have to go?” You couldn’t help but ask.

"I already said yes." James offered an apologetic smile. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise. We can go on a date the week after.” There was a pause and then, “Actually that’ll probably have to wait for the week after that.”

'Imagine having to schedule a simple date, three to four weeks in advance and even then not being guaranteed that nothing would come in between,' you sighed.

You shrugged, a sudden wave of defeat and exhaustion crashing over you. Why did you have to compete for your boyfriend in the first place? 'How tiring', you realized.

You waved him away. “It can’t be helped, I guess,” you somewhat coldly told him, and turned back to the student next to you who was awkwardly looking away. James stood next to you in silence for a moment, still looking at you. You looked up at the lack of the sound of receding footsteps and looked at him questioningly, waving your hand in a ‘what is it?’ manner.

“I can tell her no,” James said, something that looked like a pout on his face. He hated making you feel bad, despite constantly but unconsciously doing it.

“You don’t want to tell her no,” you retorted.

"I would for you.”

“Well, considering that you haven’t told her no by now and are instead here telling me that we have to rearrange our plans, I think you should just go help Lily with rounds.”

James was taken aback by your bitter tone, eyes immediately wide, alarmed that you were really affected by his decision. “Love, I-“

You waved your hand again. “No, I’m sorry,” you apologized before he could. You rubbed your eyes in an exhausted manner. Jealousy was not a good look, you reminded yourself again. “Just really looked forward to that picnic with just you and me.”

“We’ll still have that picnic another time though,” James tried to assure you, but you were no longer looking at him. He realized that the conversation was over and that you wanted to be left alone right now.

“I love you,” James tried one last time and you sighed. " I love you more.” Your words resonated even after James left, knowing that they might be more true than you wanted to admit. You cleared your throat and when you faced the girl next to you, she shot you a sympathetic look.

The last drop was during Potions class. Potions was something you were good at. Maybe not better than Severus Snape, but you did excel in it.

So, if there was one class in which you expected James to want to be your partner, it was Potions class. Perhaps it was arrogant of you to assume such a thing, because when Professor Slughorn had announced that everyone would be paired up, and asked James who he wanted to partner up with, you hadn't expected him to glance at Lily first, which resulted in Professor Slughorn pairing the two together before James could say your name, which in his defense, was what he was planning on saying.

Without sparing you a glace, he left your table to take the seat next to Lily's. Sure, it was mostly a miscommunication issue on Slughorn's part, but did James have to skip over so happily?

“Love you so much, Lily.”

The words repeated in your head when you saw him look at her so fondly and before you could stop yourself, you scribbled a message on a piece of paper, in which you asked him to meet you in the tower, before sending it his way.

You had clung onto James because you were absolutely in love with him and refused to lose him. But it really was a futile battle, you would never compare to her. His first crush, first love, first kiss if you count that one time during ‘spin the bottle’ and his first heartbreak. You’ll always be second, even if he genuinely loves you.

James snapped his head up at you from his attempted conversation with Lily when he got your note, suddenly remembering you, but you were laughing, engrossed in a conversation with a flustered Peter who had almost set the two of you on fire by adding the wrong ingredient. When you left class, you saw James and Lily still talking while calmly packing up.

James entered the tower, holding the note that you had passed him during class. He was smiling cheekily and quickly skipped over, arms ready to wrap around your waist as he leaned in for a kiss, no doubt thinking you asked him to sneak away for a snog.

“We need to talk,” you stopped him, and his grin fell from his face, a serious expression now adorning it. “Everything alright love?” he asked, an odd feeling growing inside of him at your tone. He was suddenly rather unsure if he really wanted to.

'Nothing better than to rip the band aid off', you thought.

“I want to break up.”

There was a long moment of silence while James was registering your words, repeating them in his head over and over again to see if there was any chance that he could have interpreted that incorrectly.

“What?” He eventually said out loud in disbelief. Though he wanted to step forward, reach for you and hold you tightly as if to show that he wouldn’t let you go, his body was inwilling to move.

“Why are y-, I thought we were good?” The crack in his voice didn’t go unnoticed by you. Your heart ached for him, but you were determined to stay strong and say your piece for once. To voice your thoughts and go through with tough decisions that you knew would be for the better.

“We’re not, James,” you sighed. “I know that you know that.”

James shook his head in denial. “No, I don’t know that,” he insisted. His brain was racking through all the instances where he did something wrong and - with the exception of next Friday's date - came up blank.

“But you love me,” he stated, mostly to himself, but it came out more of a question. “Of course,” you confirmed without hesitation.

James’ body finally unfroze, and he surged forward, his hands fumbled to hold your hands. “And I love you,” he stressed, panic starting to rise up. “I love you so much, I’ll take a Veritaserum potion if you want. I just, why would you-, I don’t understand the problem-,”

“I know you love me, James. The problem is that I love you so much more,” you calmly interrupted him. James’ eyes scanned your face to look for answers because none of it maded sense to him.

“I want someone who loves me as much as I love him. Someone who gives me all his love, not just a part that he managed to set apart for me too. And I want to be loved first. Not second. I don't want to be a consolation prize because your first option didn't work out.”

James’ eyes flickered in realization, but his head was still shaking in denial. “I am that someone,” he urged, trying to convince you. He shot you a pleading look. “I love you first, I swear.” He pressed a kiss to the back of your hand, and you pulled it away from his grasp.

“Not first,” you shook your head sadly. “Not when you call for Lily in your sleep, and whisper that you love her.” You watch as James’ frown deepened, mixed expressions crossing his face in surprise, confusion and even bewilderment.

Would he not even admit it?

“Not when you have us rearrange our plans for her, when you draw portraits of her during class, or when you practically jump to be her potions partner. I'm not stupid, James. I see the way you look at her.” You continued to list off the things that happened just this past week, not even bothering to mention all the things that bothered you the past months. Your eyes looked sad and tired, and you took another deep breath. “So, I want to break up.”

James felt like crying, his mind thinking back to everything you said, and knowing that you were right. “I’m sorry,” he tried. “I’m an absolute twat, I know that. I promise you I don’t love Lily, she’s just still very important to me.” You offered him a sympathetic smile.

“I know she’s important to you, I just think that maybe you don’t know what or who you want. And I won’t share my boyfriend anymore, I’m selfish like that,” You joked halfheartedly. James didn’t react, save for wrapping his arms around you. You allowed James to embrace you and he buried his head in your hair, his eyes closed as if he wanted to go to sleep and forget this was happening.

“Okay,” James whispered. What else was he supposed to say?

You closed yours as well. James would get over you in no time, you were certain. You two hadn’t been dating for that long, and perhaps James could find a happy ending in Lily after all.

James had sort of avoided you after that. You thought he was doing it because he was angry, but in reality, he was just scared that he would burst into tears the moment he saw you, and he refused to watch you laugh happily, swatting your friend while he wanted nothing more than to hold your hand again.

His mind had completely become occupied by you and he stayed in bed over the weekend, mostly wallowing in self-pity and misery.

When Monday started, he had skipped all classes and only dragged himself out of bed for Quidditch practice and patrol with Lily. Walking next to her in silence, occasionally glancing at her, he felt his stomach sink again. How ironic that when he looked at Lily, all he could think about was you.

James walked through the corridor on Friday, on his way to the courtyard to meet up with Lily again to do rounds with her. He hadn’t been able to sleep peacefully without you. At first, he had been thinking about every instance where he prioritized Lily over you, and it had him curse himself out in his pillow. He missed you. It was so ridiculous, but he missed you to the point that he would curl up in bed with a stomach ache.

He had finally drifted off when at some point in the middle of the night, he had been shaken awake by Sirius.

“What?” James had asked, his throat dry and raspy. He’d looked around, disoriented.

“Thought you were having a nightmare Prongs. You kept mumbling her name. How much you loved her,” Sirius had handed James a glass of water.

James became wide awake and sat up straight in panic. “Lily?” He had asked Sirius, his stomach turning with nausea. He still couldn’t believe that he really talked about Lily in his sleep when you were lying next to him.

“What? No, Y/N’s name of course.” Sirius had corrected him. 'Of course,' James shook his head at Sirius’ words. “Figured you were reliving your breakup,” Sirius had explained.

James was looking through the passing windows of the castle where he could see the lake in the far distance. Suddenly something in his brain clicked. What in Godrick's name was he doing, avoiding you? Why was he giving up on you without a fight? You both loved each other; he was just the idiot who couldn’t sort himself out. But it didn’t take him longer than a terrible week to open his eyes.

James’ pace increased and he ran through the corridor. “No running in the corridors young man,” a portrait commented, but he paid it no mind.

Lily was already waiting for him and raised her eyebrows at his disheveled state and the basket that he was carrying. “I can’t do rounds with you today,” he puffed out. “I told Y/N that I would take her out for a picnic and then you asked me if I could help, and I agreed, but it’s so stupid because I should be-, I am choosing her,” James ranted. “I’m not letting you come first, or even second.”

Lily wasn’t really sure what James was rambling on about but gave him a kind smile, nonetheless. “Well, what are you waiting for,” she encouraged him. “Sounds to me like you shouldn’t be here, but somewhere else.”

“Yeah, I definitely should.”

You sat by the lake, skipping stones from a sitting position, not that you were having any luck. You hadn't seen James in a while because he avoided you, and you felt sadness wash over you. You were sure that he would get over you quick enough, but you wondered how long would it take for you to get over him?

You heard rustling behind you but kept facing forward. It was only when a delicious smell reached you, that you turned around, slightly annoyed that someone would really choose this spot to have an afternoon meal at when they could’ve sat literally anywhere else near the lake, as well as choose this moment when you wanted to act like a depressed main protagonist gazing in the distance.

You were, however, not prepared to see James stand behind you, out of breath and making his way over to you, a blanket and food spread out behind him. He didn’t really need to say anything. You understood from the way he showed up here, a hopeful expression on his face.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you got up, dusting yourself off.

"Hi," James breathed. An unsure smile formed on his face when you waved back. "I uh, I brought food." He awkwardly motioned to the picnic behind him and you couldn't help but smile at his adorableness.

“Shouldn’t you be somewhere else,” you couldn’t help but lightheartedly remark. James let out an airy chuckle, immediately relaxing at your open demeanor.

“100% sure I’m where I should be,” he affirmed. He considered his words and corrected himself. "Where I want to be."

His words had you take off in a sprint towards him and James opened his arms to catch you when you jumped, locking your legs around him. Ironically enough, it felt as if a weight had fallen off of James. His head fell against your shoulder and he shakily laughed while your blouse stained with tears of relief.

"I'm really sorry," he looked up at you, still holding you steadily. You leaned down to press your forehead against his, and your hands came up to his cheeks. "You made up your mind," you said, but it came out like a question, and James nodded hastily.

"And you'll make it up to me."

"Of course," he earnestly replied. "I want us. I'll fight for us." You closed the gap between the two of you.

“I love you,” he whispered breathlessly against your lips.

Not first or second, not more, most or less. He just loves you.

Taglist:

@elsie-bells @charlie-weasley-is-underrated @dreamingofmarauders @moonyslibrary98 @wildernessflora @hollandweather @queerqueenlynn @locklyebrainrot @thisrandombitch @grac3aph3lion @earfquak3 @venomsvl @shrekscrustybudassy @middle-of-the-earth @sirene-noir @bettytaylorversion @littlepoisonmushroom @faumpje @iloveutwice @katelebate @moonysupremacy01 @marina468 @fangirl-kimora @bellesowl @badasswlthafatass @sjprongs @armydrcamers @its-a-ittle-bit-cold @ireallywannasleep127 @sayukoi @jsjcue @cashtons-wife @idllyastuff @severegiantjudgefriend @ivy-34 @wolfmoonmusic

#james potter x fem!reader #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter angst #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #james potter fic #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #marauders #marauders era #marauders fanfic #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #marauders x reader

[walpu]

pre-relationship stage with them

characters - Gepard, Aventurine notes- gn!reader, pining, light angst but mostly fluffy, a bit of hurt/comfort. I love blonde preservation men okay. no beta we die like the economy in my country

Gepard

Poor poor Geppie.

He pines so much. Treats his love for you like a tender flower. Even his feelings for you is something so precious to him, he's happy to simply be in love with a person like yourself.

I feel like this poor man willd try so much to do everything for you without giving away how deeply he cares and how intense his feelings are.

"Aw, lil' Geppie, you care about y/n so much!"

"I- I do not. I mean, of course I do! But- There's nothing surprising about it. After all, it's my duty as a Captain to care about every citizen. And, of course, it's my duty as a friend to care about y/n.

Sure, Gepard. Sure.

He would never say something like this to your face though. After all, he simply can't lie to you.

Oh but how he adores you. His face literally lights up when he sees you, the most gentle smile blooms on his face when he watches you doing even the most trivial task.

Tries to act like his usual self around you but it's pretty evident to everyone that you're his weak spot.

Would gently scold you if you would ever put yourself in danger or break any rules.

If you would get seriously hurt would actually lose his mind. Would blame himself even if the situation has nothing to do with him. Beats himself up, asks for your forgiveness and does his best to help you.

Despite the popular belief that he would prioritize his work over his beloved, I don't think it's true. Sure, he takes his duties seriously, but he would always find time for you. Would make sure to see you at least two times a weak, would answer your texts and calls. If you need him, would certainly be right by your side. Even if it means he would have to work overtime later.

Tease him a bit and he's all red. Doesn't try to stop you though, secretly adores your attention.

Would be oblivious to the fact that you like him back. Like. Really dense about it.

He's just so used to giving, to protecting, he simply doesn't expect anything in return. He has silently accepted the fact that you may never love him back, but he will be there for you regardless of it, no matter what.

Plus, he feels like he may not be the one for you. Like you need someone who doesn't have to constantly put their life in danger, who can always be by your side, who won't break your heart. Because he's painfully aware that each fight may actually be his last. That he may not come back to you.

Speaking of that. He would make sure to say a proper goodbye to you before every battle or expedition. Nothing too sappy or depressing, he doesn't want to make you worry, after all. Would probably tell you to take care of yourself, to sleep well and to eat healthy food lol. He really just wants to make sure that he got to see you before heading straight into the battle.

If you're a Silvermane guard as well, would restrict himself even more, not wanting to use his position or to be pushy. However, would still be worried sick, even more so. Would still talk to you before every battle, asking almost begging you to be careful.

Loves giving you head pats.

Generally the goodest boy. Just make sure to make the first move because otherwise he would be satisfied with just being your loyal puppy.

Aventurine

Good lord.

This man is such a mess.

Be ready for a mindfuck but not because he's manipulative towards you or something like that but because there's so many layers of trauma in him.

You have to be patient with him okay.

I feel like pre-relationship stage would be so confusing to him. He had flings in the past, okay? Short ones, meaningless. Something to distress, to feel another person's touch, to feel some sort of connection, no matter how shallow it is. He knew he uses those people and that those people use him in return. Not once he asked them to be gentle or caring.

But with you it's so different. Doesn't matter if your relationship started sexually and developed into something more or if it was mostly platonic/slow since the beginning. He still feels something. And he's not sure if he likes it.

Sometimes it feels so good to be seen, to be addressed as a person, not just as a tool. But sometimes it scares him. After all, this man hasn't been vulnerable with anyone for a long, long time.

I'm sorry but I feel like he would try to pull away from you a bit after realizing how much you actually mean to him.

Oh but he will crumble if you reach out to him, okay? He simply can't ditch you like that, not when you see him for him and want him for him.

Even if it's scary.

Would slowly relax around you. Don't expect him to open up easily but still, the more time you spend together, the more his cocky mask will slip away.

Will randomly and out of the blue tell you small details about his past. You two may walk down the street together and he will see something that reminds him of Sigonia so he will share this memory with you.

It may be the smallest thing but it means a lot to him that you listen. Even this tiny moments of vulnerability are hard for him.

On the more positive note, he's so fun to be around. Would tease you and cling to you all of the time. If you tease him back, he would pretend to be offended but would actually enjoy the playful banter a lot.

Just don't tease him too much about him becoming more and more clingy with each passing day.

Spoils you rotten. New clothes, jewelry, watches, shoes, anything you may want or need. He still can't quite get rid of this idea that you have to be convenient for someone to be valuable. It's not like he's trying to buy your love but... Maybe subconsciously he does. Once again, be patient. This man is so used to the fact that all of his alliances are build on mutual benefit that it's still hard to accept that you're really here for him.

Spoiler even when he will feel more stable in your relationship and his mindset will turn more healthy, gift giving will still remain one of his love languages.

Just like Gepard, would care greatly about your safety. He may be careless about his own life but never with yours.

Loves, loves, loves physical contact. As I said before, gets very clingy, putting his arm over your shoulder or tugging on your sleeve. If he's feeling down, would crawl to you side and subtly brush his shoulder against yours or lean to your side. He may still have his confident smile but those small gestures show that he wants you to be the one holding him this time.

Invades your personal space a lot actually. Texts you constantly too lmao.

LOVES SILLY NICKNAMES. Would call you his dearest darling in the sweetest voice during the most inappropriate time and then laugh at your reaction. Would settle for something more casual like "baby" when he's not trying to be a pain in the ass. Still tries to play it off as something teasing. Deep down yearns to call you this without having to pretend that this is just a playful banter between two friends.

Oh and he would dance around the topic of dating, throwing hints but never having the courage to ask openly. So good luck with him.

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