#and still have both compelling answers and questions afterward

[nightfayre]

(for @teanshan, who requested a drabble about what happened in the time between tianshan's kiss and them sharing Guan Shan's bed <3 enjoy!)

———

He Tian was the first to pull away from the kiss.

In any other circumstance, Guan Shan would’ve suffered a considerable blow to his self-esteem. He's prone to self-destruction at the best of times, after all. The questions would've been endless: Did he do it wrong? Did He Tian change his mind? Was it all just a joke to him?

But for once, Guan Shan reined in his anxieties. It was made easy by the way He Tian’s fingers lingered on his cheek for a moment longer after they separated. It’d be foolish, Guan Shan knew, to mistake this for anything except what it was. He’d spent too long dancing around everything that He Tian was willing to give him, convincing himself that it was something else, something encrypted. Now he looked He Tian in the eyes and saw everything like an open book: want, embarrassment, nervousness, exhaustion. He’d cracked the code, and the reward of knowing He Tian was plentiful. To be honest, Guan Shan wasn’t quite sure what to do with his newfound riches.

But he didn’t get to linger on it for long. He Tian blinked, smiled, and it became clear in the heavy weight of his gaze that the exhaustion was winning him over. Still, he took Guan Shan’s hand in his bandaged one again, pulling him off the desk, toward the bed. Guan Shan flushed, pulling back.

“What are you doing?”

“Lying down, and taking my little Mo with me,” He Tian answered, tugging on his arm.

Guan Shan swallowed, flushing a shade deeper. “We’re fucking filthy. We should— shower.”

It was a trivial excuse, but a valid one nonetheless. After all that had happened, the last thing he wanted to do tomorrow was laundry when he desperately needed rest. Still, as if on cue, He Tian released a wide yawn, blinking hard afterward.

“’M too tired,” he mumbled in a way that was both childish and endearing, and Guan Shan’s heart soared at the thought of kissing those lazy lips again. But instead of indulging him, He Tian sat on the edge of the bed, keeping hold of Guan Shan’s hand. He gave another gentle tug. “Come lie down.”

Despite the burning heat of his face, Guan Shan felt equally adamant about maintaining cleanliness as he did giving into He Tian’s whims. He shook his head. “I’m gonna shower.”

The pouted look He Tian gave him would have been more compelling if he’d been able to maintain it for any longer. Instead, he eventually nodded, releasing Guan Shan’s hand to flop backward on the mattress with a deep sigh. It only took a matter of moments for Guan Shan to recognize the futility of the situation; He Tian’s ability to sleep at the drop of a dime was no stranger to him. He’d leave him there for now. Quietly gathering a fresh change of clothes, Guan Shan slipped out of the bedroom.

— — —

“You’re awake now, so move and lie down properly,” Guan Shan scolded later, face flushed once again from He Tian’s teasing. He’d quickly given up on wiping down the other boy’s body, instead threatening to pour the bowl of water on him if he didn’t at least wipe his own arms and face. The threat, albeit empty, worked, but then He Tian had simply resumed his position halfway slumped on the bed, dead weight.

“’M comfortable here,” He Tian muttered, eyes closed.

“You’ll be more comfortable if you move,” Guan Shan maintained. He kicked at his leg. “Plus, you’re taking up the entire fucking bed. I’m tired too, asshole. Move already.”

Despite his fatigue, a small smile built on He Tian’s lips. “Wow. I can’t believe I kissed a mouth that dirty.”

“He Tian.”

“Okay, okay.” Sluggish, He Tian pulled himself up on his elbows. His gaze was soft and sleepy as he looked at Guan Shan. “Inside or outside?”

“Outside,” Guan Shan answered immediately, heat crawling up his neck. He knew better than to let He Tian trap him. He’d already given him an inch; it was only a matter of time before He Tian took the whole mile. He Tian seemed to recognize this, too, as he gave Guan Shan a knowing look before finally inching up the bed, assuming his position on the innermost pillow. His hair splayed out on the pillowcase like spilled ink, although he pointedly contained his long limbs to his half of the bed.

Exhaling with relief, Guan Shan reached down to pick up the spare blanket he’d grabbed from the hallway closet. He draped it over He Tian — who watched him cheekily the entire time — before reaching over to turn off the desk lamp and escape his gaze in the darkness. And it felt strange to climb into bed afterward, knowing someone else was in it. Eyes unadjusted to the dark, Guan Shan could only feel the many forms of He Tian’s presence: the dip in the mattress, the warmth of his body, the press of his legs. It felt familiar yet novel, as if the concept of sharing space with He Tian wasn’t new, but doing so like this was. And as he settled beneath the blanket, skin warm and muscles sore, Guan Shan wondered what other things would feel familiar but new between them from here on out. He wondered if the tightness in his chest was excitement or anxiety or maybe a combination of both — another slew of emotions that He Tian always managed to pull out of him, messy but honest.

Shifting under the covers, He Tian pressed close.

“Little Mo,” he whispered.

Guan Shan swallowed, ears warm. “What?” he whispered back.

“Look at me.”

Guan Shan turned his head. He could only see the faint outline of He Tian next to him, but he shivered as he felt a hand come up, long fingers cupping the back of his head, running through his damp hair. He felt He Tian shift — and then there was a soft, warm pressure on his forehead. Guan Shan closed his eyes, pulse racing.

“Good night,” He Tian whispered against him, breath warm.

“Good night,” Guan Shan whispered back.

They fell asleep.

[bestworstcase]

I'm still on the train of thought that if Ruby is going to have some kind of violent outburst as part of this breakdown, she's more likely to direct it towards breaking crescent rose than attacking anyone like Neo or Jaune (an internalized sort of anger for perceived failings, she's supposed to be the ideal hero, the hopeful one, leader with all the answers but she just can't anymore, and by extension any desire to put that weight down for a while means something is wrong with her, not the world that put her in this position to begin with).

Maybe Neo might push the issue and make herself an acceptable target for her to vent that anger towards in the form of violence instead, but honestly Ruby just seems fucking tired right now more than angry. I don't fully understand where this desire to see her go bloodthirsty on someone is coming from?

now THIS i can see. what immediately sprang to mind is a parallel to ruby cutting down a tree with one slice to vent her feelings in V1—except this time smashing crescent rose blunt-side into something like a boulder or pillar. the same overpowering wordless fury exploding out as this flash of impulsive destruction, but directed at crescent rose instead of using crescent rose as the instrument for that feeling. and then i’d imagine, shortly afterward some dawning regret and maybe fixing the damage or reforging crescent rose altogether as part of working through the underlying crisis. i think that fits neatly with where ruby’s at rn. and it would be a really potent way to visually showcase what she’s feeling!

the other thing i’ve been thinking is that ruby might have taken it with her when she left because she’s going to look for the blacksmith. the blacksmith made her an offer, which ruby declined on the grounds that she already had (or used to have) her own weapon, and anyway she can handle it—and the blacksmith accepted that refusal but also added “if you change your mind…”—& now ruby’s realizing that she really can’t handle it and in fact doesn’t WANT to be forced to carry this burden, and she has the weapon that represents that burden in her hands now, and the blacksmith implicitly told her to come back if things changed. so…

one of the big questions i have for 9.8 is whether ruby is going to miserably isolate herself (like she did in V8) or if she’s going to try asking the ever after for help. bc right from the start, this world has been telling her “you don’t have to. you can stop. you get to choose. what do YOU want?” and i think that played a huge role in bringing this to the surface. its the combination of being so beaten down AND the sudden contrast of how the ever after cares about how she feels and what she wants.

it’s often difficult to see how bad things really are until you lurch into a better situation by accident. and then it hits you like a truck.

how things shake out with neo depends a lot, i think, on what order they happen. there’s three (or four) like, obvious items on the narrative to-do list for ruby’s breakdown: 1. little helping her figure out what she is, 2. confrontation with neo, and 3. the second encounter with the blacksmith; and possibly 4. a ponderstorm. (if the ponderstorm occurs separately. i think it’s more likely the storm will be the narrative scaffolding for the first three points, bc it’s both more efficient and more compelling to do all of this sort of ‘together’ rather than sequentially.)

the big question is which comes first. i figure the sequencing will be either little -> neo -> blacksmith, with neo interrupting the little conversation and the resultant confrontation/storm leading them ultimately to the blacksmith. OR, blacksmith + little -> neo, with ruby’s crystallizing NEED to change answered immediately by the blacksmith, ruby figuring out at least a rough idea of what ‘laying her burden down’ means to her, and then coming face-to-face with neo at the moment when she’s made a decision but doesn’t yet know how to put it into practice.

it’s not… impossible that she encounters neo first, i wouldn’t be surprised per se if that’s what happens, but it does seem a lot less likely to me, mostly bc ruby is in SUCH rough shape rn. she can’t fight. the bloody rampage theory hinges on the assumption that ruby will just snap out of it if she gets mad enough, but i don’t think that… tracks, really? (especially not when this is postulated as what fixes her. killing ADAM was portrayed as 1. completely, unequivocally morally justified and necessary, and 2. still a profoundly upsetting experience for both of them but especially for blake. and y’all think ruby going berserk and brutally killing or maiming neo in a blind rage would be IN ANY WAY treated as constructive or healing? what show are you watching?)

so if she does encounter neo first, i think there will have to be some sort of complication to swerve the confrontation away from being a serious physical altercation. bc if it’s a physical altercation and ruby hasn’t gotten the chance to at least begin working through this stuff, she either runs away or neo kills her.

i think the most plausible options for what the complication might be are 1. a ponderstorm hits them and they’re put into a space where violent engagement flat out isn’t possible, or else 2. ruby reacts in a way that is so wildly at odds with neo’s revenge fantasy that neo’s violent intention stalls out. bc like one of the really interesting things about neo as an antagonist is she’s both single-minded but also very fickle. her desire for vengeance initially focused on cinder, and cinder redirected it toward ruby with remarkable ease. she’s committed but lacks any real conviction. so i think ruby might be able to deflect her, at least temporarily, just by not following the script.

but i do think it’s more likely that neo will happen after ruby has, like, at least had a moment to catch her breath and really feel the enormity of what she just did. for “i don’t want to be a huntress anymore.“ to crystallize as a conscious thought and desire that she can acknowledge. if only bc it allows for this progression from “i’m NOT a huntress.” to “…so then what am i?” to coming face-to-face with neo and choosing deliberately to deal with her not like a huntress. neo potentially is kind of ruby’s answer to herself, to this question of “what are you going to become?” that has to follow after “i’m done being a huntress.”

[rriavian]

According to your universe, which feeling Corinthian feels most towards Dream? Is it Desire or devotion or anything else?

And which feeling Dream feels most towards Corinthian? Is it affection? Or Desire? Or possessiveness or something else?

It is not necessary to mention one answer only. You may write a paragraph on what range of feelings they have for each other

Jessamy, my dearest—you have been incredibly patient thank you so much for this question! I’ve been thinking about this for weeks (it’s been sat in my drafts since before I went on holiday) but spent a while trying to get the wording right. I hope you enjoy my answer <3

I do think it’s love! Just perhaps not a human love.

The Baiting the Trap ‘verse works on the premise that after hundreds of years of sexual tension the Corinthian finally gets the chance to act on it as well as his anger at his creator. He was pretty certain Dream was going to destroy him afterwards so decided to just go for it. He’d been cool and collected for far too long and the lid was not going back on that box now it’s open. Dream is no less interested (he did initiate after all) but though far more unhinged when it comes to love/jealousy his sexual desire is a bit more chill. Idk, maybe it’s because I’m ace but I see him as being like ‘eh, depends on the sex so you better make it good’ when it comes to taking someone to bed.

It’s the devotion in observable/tangible actions that I think reels him in, that I think is the real lure, the single minded focus of another all for him is something Dream doesn’t bother trying to resist. He'll never see it as a weakness either. I think it stems partly from a unmet need to feel entirely accepted, entirely wanted, when so often there are parts of him that others find too extreme.

Too sharp.

So Baiting the Trap is still only just entering the second ‘arc’ which means there’s a lot more to some but…

The antagonism, the extremes, the spectrum of morality and the acceptance/competition of each other’s sharpness…it’s always going to be a large part of their relationship. Though I would add that I think the Corinthian’s greedy possession is a grounding force, which I’ve mostly implied up to this point but there will be some more explicit confirmations coming up in the series. Dream likes how fiercely he’s claimed, how intent his nightmare is on knowing him. Yeah it's the Corinthian figuring out weaknesses too but…it’s looking beneath. Trying to see him as he is.

It’s wanting to.

And it’s wanting to put his fingerprints all over him.

Dream made the Corinthian (which gives us all the wonderful facets of a creator/creation dynamic) but…to him there is something unique about being chosen. About laying the bait and having the Corinthian decide to take it every time. Even if Dream knows that he will, knows that he can offer himself, he isn’t forcing it. As much as that prods at the Corinthian’s desire for agency, stings his pride, it also gives to it. In a way BTT Dream is soothing the original wound of the Corinthian’s betrayal for them both. He rebelled by turning away, by leaving, but this is him deciding to act that frustration out while also no longer denying how much he wants Dream.

So just by being so obsessed with defeating him in such a deeply personal—up close and incredibly intimate—way, the Corinthian is effectively giving Dream all the attention he could ever want.

Promising a constant supply of the devotion I think Dream requires to feel satisfied by a lover.

Though it’s by no means one sided. The Corinthian gets a taste of looking at the bigger picture, at Dream’s responsibility for the larger scale, and that’s compelling to him in this context because understanding it allows him to enjoy what it means for his creator to turn away for even a little while. Disgruntlement over Dream’s commitment to his responsibilities has always been (and always will be) a source of tension in their relationship. But this is also a manifestation of the Corinthian’s canon need to prove he was made right—that I also tend to interpret as his wish to prove he is the most worthy believer, the only one to do it correctly—so now he dares blasphemy so he can worship without distance.

While Dream is enjoying the novelty of being the singular object of another's focus, the Corinthian gets to enjoy moments of having what is essentially a universe stare him down without blinking. And that fulfills his own need for attention, his own desire to feel wanted. It’s like sauntering right up to a god busy answering prayers and grabbing them by the hand.

It’s saying ‘reply later I want you now’.

Of course possessiveness and obsession often appear alongside an additional dynamic of ownership that borders on objectification. But with these two I’ve always seen it differently.

Above I mentioned Dream finding the Corinthian’s possessive nature to be a grounding force, and this is really just a continuation of that point because the Corinthian feels the same way about Dream. I don’t think dehumanisation/objectification really works the way we’re used to conceptualising it with characters that have never been human in the first place. We can’t take humanity away from them but what we can take is personhood. Which I think is something both Dream and the Corinthian value incredibly highly. To be honest, I think that in many ways they both use what we might see as objectification to affirm identity in/to each other, to affirm personhood.

It’s a return of self, not a denial of it, humanity the real box when the Corinthian and Dream have always been Other.

It might sound odd but I see a lot of their relationship through this lens. The Corinthian is a ‘thing’ in the same way as Dream is, an object of the same kind, with a function and a role, but that doesn’t deny a sense of self. They don’t need to be in conflict.

So I suppose in BTT that’s really what it’s about. How their relationship supports a reaffirmation of both of their identities. The Corinthian is Dream’s creation, his nightmare, his masterpiece, but that doesn’t mean he’s just a thing to him. To me the creator/creation dynamic adds identity, adds agency, contributes to the fullness of character rather than taking away from it. Neither of them have to scale themselves down. They don't have to make themselves smaller. So that's another part of what these characters can find in each other, part of the balance I like to write, part of how they ground themselves while also enjoying testing their own extremes.

It’s love and possessiveness and you help me keep my balance. It’s I can be me to the fullest, it’s no part of me is ugly to you. It’s nothing will make me look away. It’s I will fight with you forever and you will let me, you won’t burn out, you can take all that I am.

You want all of what I am and that is love.

[sirowsky]

Clumsy Heart

Part 2

@kurlyfrasier & @suttonspuds You both said that you wouldn't mind having more of these two, so here you go!

Description: Direct continuation of Part 1 of this story. Here we learn a bit more about the relationship from Pero's perspective, along with some sweet domestic playfulness.

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Warnings: Pero x female reader (no description), no y/n, friends to lovers, mention of trauma related to a near abduction, takes place at Christmas-time but not heavily holiday-themed. Word Count: 2910

Author's Masterlist

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   He’d been walking aimlessly for hours when he’d heard something that had made him stop.    There weren’t many things that could break through his mental barriers and make him look closer at the world around him, because it seemed like every time that he had, he’d ended up hurting people.    So, for the most part, he’d kept the world at a distance.

   But not that evening.

   Your screams had been so sharp that they’d seemed to cut through his being like knives, leaving him unable to ignore them.    If he’d been armed, your attacker would probably have died at his hands, but instead, you’d had to sit through a lengthy trial, made to relive the horrifying event multiple times before the verdict had finally been cast.

   The good news was that the man had been sentenced to life in prison, but the bad news was that you’d only narrowly escaped the clutches of a sadistic serial killer. Something that wasn’t so easy to shake off.    You’d been fragile for a long time afterwards, and even though Pero had never been the caring type, he’d felt compelled to make sure that you’d get through it.

   Maybe because it had rattled him too, knowing what the monster would’ve done to you if he’d managed to snatch you, or maybe just because saving you had made him feel a bit responsible for you.    But what he’d realized after a few months of being a part of your life, was that whatever the reason might initially have been, the reason why he’d remained by your side all that time, was simply because you hadn’t told him to go.

   And that was something that no one had ever done before.

   Will had endured his company for years, sure. But even so, that had never felt as comfortable or easy as being around you was.    You’d wanted him around, sought him out if he hadn’t come to see you in a couple of days, asked for his company and been happy to have it, even when he’d been grumpy or unfriendly.

   Deep down, he knew that he had, and still, behaved like that because it was easier to push people away than to put in the work and effort needed to build a relationship.    But you had never cared about that.    You’d treated him the same whether he’d been in a good or bad mood, whether he’d answered your questions and attempts at conversation, or not.

   So, when you’d suggested buying a house together, to cut costs and because you didn’t want to live alone with your demons, he’d been unable to refuse.    Because who else could ever tolerate him the way that you did?

   It hadn’t taken him more than a month of living with you, to understand that there had been deeper reasons behind his willingness to be around you.    But he’d stubbornly kept refusing to listen to that part of his brain, because you were his only friend, and he didn’t have the courage to risk losing that.    And more importantly, you were a victim, and he was your savior.

   That was a delicate situation to begin with and he was painfully aware of how easily your emotional health could be manipulated and broken.    So, he’d never even entertained the idea of asking for more. Never allowed it to take root in his mind.    You were his friend. Nothing else.

   And then Will had showed up.

   It could’ve just been that he was already desperate to tell you and simply took the opportunity as it presented itself.    But from the moment that those words had left his mouth… the moment that he’d breathed the lie into existence, that you were his partner… everything had changed.    Before he’d even gotten home and stolen that kiss, he’d known that a line had been crossed and that he’d never be able to go back.

   If he’d been brave enough to hope that you wouldn’t find the idea repulsive, he might not have been quite so shocked when you’d reciprocated.    Despite knowing that the dam had been cracked and that he’d never be able to bottle up his feelings for you again, he’d still tried to keep you away. Tried to scare you into not asking, not demanding the answers that he owed you.    But of course, you had seen right through him.

   You had looked so calm and determined when you’d ignored his feigned anger and drawn closer, letting your body press against his while you’d kept staring into his eyes, daring him to stop you.    He hadn’t even considered it.    Because seeing you like that, openly offering him your heart, was a dream that he had never dared to dream, coming true.

   And now, when he rested beside you, watching how heavily and comfortably you slept after several hours of love-making, it finally sunk in that even though it was a dream, it was also real.    You had kissed him, touched him, gone to bed with him, entirely of your own choice. He hadn’t asked or suggested it, only accepted what you’d offered, utterly bewildered with every second that you had given him.

   He watched the small pearls of sweat at the back of your neck slowly dry, while he listened to your steady breathing.    He gently caressed the tired muscles in your back until your skin cooled, then pulled the covers up over you so that you wouldn’t wake up feeling cold.    And an hour later, when you turned on your side in your sleep and reached for him, entangling your arms and legs with his, all without waking up, he suddenly wanted to cry.

   Because Pero had never really known how it felt to be wanted. Not like this.    And now that he did, a strange urge to grief for the many years that he’d been deprived of this precious feeling, tore through him with a searing burn that left his heart in agony.    But your skin against his was like a balm to the acidic sorrow that laced his blood.    Knowing that you wanted him was enough to ease even the most bitter feelings of abandonment and loneliness that had haunted him throughout his adulthood.

   He kept watching you all night, and even though your comforting presence wasn’t enough to stop the tears from falling, instead of brimming with pain, they were filled with love.    Never in a million years had he ever thought that he’d get the chance to show you that, and yet there he was, hiding it from you. Giving himself the excuse of not wanting to wake you when he knew damned well that you wouldn’t mind.    There was no reason to feel ashamed, but somehow, he still did.

   Perhaps over the fact that he’d hidden it for so long, or could it be because he just felt that completely undeserving of you?    He spent all night thinking about it, watching the sun rise and kiss your skin on its way up. And it wasn’t until you’d begun to stir, sluggishly trying to shift your body over to your back to ease the pressure against your side, that he finally figured it out.

   The younger women he’d brought home, the way he’d made sure to be loud and obvious about it… that was where his shame came from.    It had all been about you. About trying to make you jealous, or just provoke a reaction, anything that would make you talk about it so that he’d have an excuse to bring it up.    Because if you had, then maybe he would’ve dared to confess what it was that he really wanted.

   But instead, he’d only created a stronger barrier between you, undoubtedly scaring you into thinking that he could never be gentle with a lover.    He was proud to have proven that to be false, though. He’d taken the utmost care of your pleasure that night, making sure that you would never again even contemplate the possibility that he’d ever hurt you.

   And when a soft smile spread across your face even before you’d fully woken up, he knew that you’d seen that in him.    That you finally knew exactly what you meant to him.

-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-

   He’d been crying.    You guessed that he’d been awake all night, but the red puffiness in his eyes wasn’t from fatigue. You’d seen that same expression in the mirror too many times to count, so you knew that it came from hours of tears.    But you didn’t mention it.

   He hadn’t wanted you to see it and that was a choice that he was entitled to, although you wished that he would’ve felt comfortable enough to let you see him even when he was broken.    You’d known from the beginning that he wasn’t an open book kind of person, and you knew that being with him would include accepting that he wasn’t always gonna let you in.    Fortunately though, you’d already been living with him for years under the same conditions, which meant that you also knew that you could manage it.

   So, instead of asking him why he’d been crying, you allowed the contented smile that you’d woken up with, to linger in your features as you stretched and finished waking up. Hoping that it would infect him and make him forget whatever had made him sad.    It seemed to work, because when you turned back towards him and nestled back into his arms, he was smiling too.

   “Good morning,” you offered, noting that your voice was even more rough than usual, probably because of last night’s workout.

   “Morning. How are you feeling?” he answered, and even though you’d heard his deep gravelly morning voice many times, it was different when you could feel it in his chest too.

   It made your skin prickle with delight.

   “Perfect,” you purred, and felt him soften just a fraction, as if he’d been a bit worried that you would’ve somehow come to regret being with him. “Are you okay?” you added, giving him the option of just saying yes or no, in case that was all he could manage.

   “I’ve never felt so good before, Galleta,” he whispered, tugging you even closer. “I have wanted this for a long time.”

   It surprised you to hear him confess that, but you didn’t doubt that it was true, given what you’d come to realize about him the day before.

   “I’m really happy to hear that,” you said, smiling at him, “because I’ve always tried to make you feel good, but you’ve never been all that receptible before.”

   He didn’t answer that, but you saw a little bit of insecurity creep into his eyes.    You wondered if it was because he was remembering all the times that you’d joked around or played pranks on him, attempting to make him laugh.    It was a strategy that had hardly ever succeeded, but you’d persisted anyway, convinced that there was a happy little kid somewhere inside of him still.

   “Can I make you breakfast?” he suddenly asked, bringing you out of your own head, and your smile widened.

   “Omelets?” you asked in return, certain that your face was looking ridiculously excited.

   He made the best omelets you’d ever tried, but you’d always had to nag him for it and even when you had, he’d most often refused anyway.    You’d never been able to work out if it was just to tease you or if he was too lazy or if maybe he just hated to cook. All three options appeared to be equally likely.

   “Sure. Anything for you,” he smiled back, which made your brows furrow.

   “Seriously? You’ve never agreed so easily before…” you questioned, and he chuckled warmly, making his chest flutter briefly against yours.

   “I never had much reason to give in before. Being mysterious or difficult to understand was the only card I had to play, in order to keep you interested.”

   “Pero… I asked you to live with me. You’ve never needed to work on keeping me interested, I always have been,” you reminded him, and heard him hum in a bemused way as he considered that.

   But instead of continuing the conversation, he seemed to decide that it was time to get up, and pulled you along out of the bed.    You snagged a clean t-shirt from his closet while he just threw on some boxers, and then you headed for the kitchen where the brown little army was still littering the counters.    To check if they were still good, you grabbed one and took a bite, glad to discover that they were still crisp and fresh and could be gifted to the foundation.

   “Hey!” Pero startled you by snatching the cookie from your hand. “I’m making you your favorite eggs and you go and ruin your appetite before I have even started?”

   “Don’t be so dramatic, it was one bite to make sure that they’re still edible,” you countered, waving a hand dismissively in his direction while you started looking for a jar to put the gingerbreads away.

   Then this playful giddiness came over you, and you snuck another cookie from the counter before quickly stuffing the entire thing into your mouth before he could stop you. And he did try to stop you the moment that he realized what you were up to.

   “Are you serious?” he huffed, equal parts amused and disbelieving, as he let go of your hands and took a step back, accepting defeat.

   “…fhat?” you tried to sound innocent, but there was too much cookie in the way, which just made you laugh instead.

   “I can’t believe you just did that,” he accused, but his eyes were full of mirth as he watched you splutter crumbs everywhere with your giggles.

   You chewed quickly so that you could answer, throwing a witty glare at him as soon as you’d swallowed.

   “Says the man that kissed me without my permission.”

   He’d started trying to clear some space on the counter next to the stove, but hearing that made him pause and turn back towards you, and he looked so mischievous.

   “Yes, because I love you, querida,” he declared with a very warm kind of smirk that made your knees go all wobbly.

   You’d never heard him say that word before, not to anyone or in any context, and still he said it with such ease and comfort. As though he’d always felt that in his heart and just needed your permission to let it out.    He was such a belligerent character ordinarily, always ready to fight people and always expecting someone to disappoint or hurt him, which was why seeing this soft side of him was making you feel special in a way that you never had before.

   Because if he was willing to let all of his defenses down and open himself to you, then you must mean more to him than anyone else ever had.

   “Good,” you teased, letting a few seconds pass before giving him the confirmation that he was looking for. “Because I love you, too.”

   He smiled at you then, in that way that only the happiest feelings could make a person smile, and you knew that you wanted to see that in his eyes every day for the rest of your life.    You stepped closer to him and he eagerly snagged your waist, which made the t-shirt that you were wearing slide up, sending a cool brush of air over your backside.    He took full advantage of this, sliding his hands over your bare cheeks and pressing you closer to his hips. But in his eyes, you didn’t see want, only adoration.

   “I’m sorry,” he suddenly whispered, catching you completely by surprise.

   “What in the world for?” you questioned.

   But his smile was still there, so you weren’t concerned, only disbelieving because you really couldn’t think of anything that he should feel sorry about.

   “For not being brave enough to tell you sooner. For wasting so much time…” he explained, and you shook your head at him.

   “You took as much time as you needed, Pero. That doesn’t make you a coward,” you soothed, and saw his eyes begin to grow wetter.

   He really didn’t expect anyone to be kind to him or offer him any understanding and it broke your heart.    But it also comforted you to realize that at least the fact that he was telling you this, meant that he was beginning to learn that you were different, and that he could trust you not to hurt him.

   “It makes you mine,” you concluded, holding his gaze and watching the confidence build in his eyes as he listened. “Taking all that time to be sure that I’m the one you want, means that I’ll get to keep you, and that’s all I need to know.”

   You were highly aware that by saying this, you were also acknowledging that you belonged to him, and you were perfectly fine with that.    Pero had a possessive side which you’d been aware of for a long time, since that had to be one of the major reasons why he’d been unable to leave you ever since saving your life. Even though that had been exactly what a big part of him had wanted to do.    Just walk away and be free of any responsibility or requirements.

   But he hadn’t.    And in truth, that really was all that you’d ever needed to know about him.

THE END

Thank you for reading and I wish you a happy 2023! If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging so that others might find it as well <3

@tacticalsparkles @tanzthompson @sarahjkl82-blog @marydjarin @idreamofboobear @annathewitch @agingerindenial @tiffanyleen @winter-fox-queen @elegantduckturtle  @lovefreylove @shadowolf993  @callsigncatfish @hounding-around @cannedsoupsucks @startrekkingaroundasgard  @thisshipwillsail316 @ellie-darling @likes-good-reblogs-even-better  @nakhudanyx @dihra-vesa @tobealostwanderer @ophelialoveshandsomemen @deadhumourist @spideysimpossiblegirl @toomanystoriessolittletime  @tintinn16 @prostitute-robot-from-the-future  @nolanell @bilibiche @harriedandharassed @shadesofnerdlygrace @little-mrs-morales @hotchlover @gallowsjoker @cosmicbreathe @criminalmind1927 @meadowofsinfulthoughts

[stlispenard]

[ HAIR ]:          sender slowly reaches out to catch a loose strand of the receiver’s hair and tuck it gently and securely back behind their ear, letting their touch linger afterwards. / louis @ lestat

PROMPTS THAT MAKE ME GO EYES / @monstroum & @masteredinstinct

    louis has always felt like something to be addicted to. a moreish, compelling drug. give me one taste and i’ll hunger for more. it has been that way since they met. the days without him, the years, he is ravaged by withdrawals: his craving him is one terrible sickness. after a time, the body stops feeling it so badly and time dulls the pain, but then, then there’s a gaping hole inside you that nothing else fills. no one else is enough. now, after louis’ brief return to new orleans, the cycle has begun again. 

     he does not have the time to travel to dubai and still he does it. lestat can’t help himself. it’s compulsion. “did you have to go this far away?” he had asked, standing in his hallway, with nothing but himself as luggage and the promise that he will go again tomorrow. he knows he has to. 

     the architecture perplexes him. the cold, modern coolness and perhaps the fact that armand once inhabited the same rooms. he does not like it and he’s sure louis can tell from the minuscule scrunch of his nose when he politely compliments some of its features, the mockery of a smile he wears and his joking, “my father’s medieval castle in auvergne was much the same.. so much stone and space, with not enough great art in the world to fill it”. you have far better taste though, but the acoustics are abominable. 

and there is the bedroom without a coffin. he doesn’t ask it, but he wonders. have you removed yourself from the dead entirely, mon cher? sleeping how you used to in your old life? when louis shows him, he merely glances from the bed and back at him with an arched brow, but with no real question. those answers he feels like he must earn in time. instead, he plays the shrewd flirt and says something about a spare bed somewhere. 

     the suggestiveness is in spite of the fact that he has yet to kiss him. louis held him, nothing else. just enough of him, a brief whiff of his scent and the feel of his body, to make lestat crave his presence. he really should have known it would make him follow him back like a dog and wonders if part of louis wanted that to happen. is he merely being predicable? is he even allowed to hope?

     in the end, he is there just to be there. he is there for louis, not for his body or his mouth or his blood. when he crawls into his bed it isn’t with the hope that he might just fuck him, but because he wants to lay there on top of the covers and listen to him and his heartbeat. i am so happy you are alive. he lays so still next to him as he speaks about the past and all the things he does not know. each memory comes with its share of pain, but it seems they are both willing to feel it now. 

     it’s been hours when louis reaches out for him, touching his hair, pushing it back in place behind his ear, mimicking what he himself has done a couple of times since rolling onto his side. lestat briefly closes his eyes to savor the feeling of his fingers against his skin, “merci, louis,” he breathes, he smiles, he makes it seem like it does not make everything in him ignite. it is too simple a gesture to do so much, but he is weak and he is starved. he reaches for his hand and brings it back down in-between them, “morning will come soon. we should go to sleep.”

[love-and-deepspace-fanfic]

You know I’m obsessed with a card when I can’t stop delulu about it! ><

So here’s another “shortie but steamie” version of our “OMNIPOTENT CARD” (of course!) for all of you to enjoy!

It’s my first time writing in such a suggestive way so I’m all ears for feedback and *cough cough* future materials ^^

Let’s continue our delulu together!

Rafayel…what is this arising heat within me….

EMBRACE OF THE HIDDEN FLAME

A serene silence enveloped the bathroom the moment you reached out to pull Rafayel back, desperate for answers to the questions that had haunted you. Yet now, your worries have multiplied beyond just one.

At first, your vision began to falter, unable to look away from the water droplets that danced across his skin. Since the moment Rafayel fell into the tub, your eyes have been captivated by the way those droplets travel from his hair, tracing the sharp angles of his face, gathering in rivulets over the mesmerizing landscape of his chest, slipping through the narrow valleys between six well-defined ridges, before finally disappearing into the depths of an ocean you scarcely dared imagine. Oh, you—how could you betray yourself with such unguarded thoughts? If you’re not careful, where will your dignity find refuge amid these turbulent waves of desire? But if truth be told, you wouldn't mind casting dignity aside to keep gazing at that perfect expanse, though a person must have limits—and yours is not to indulge in such sights without permission.

As a girl of steadfast virtue, you finally mustered the courage, locking your gaze with Rafayel’s with a resolve you never knew you possessed. And with a voice free of pretense, you spoke your truth:

“Rafayel, may I… may I gaze upon you?”

Startled by your unexpected question, Rafayel first seemed surprised, then let out a soft chuckle. He leaned back against the edge of the tub, his eyes roaming over you, from your face down to your waist (for anything lower would be obscured by the water). His gaze flickered, occasionally glancing at the modest rise of your chest. If it weren't for their almost laughable size, you might have confidently displayed yourself for his admiration. But knowing your own worth, all you could do was feel the heat rise in your face and lower your gaze.

At that moment, Rafayel straightened from his recline and gently lifted your hands to caress them with a tenderness that sent shivers down your spine. His thumb traced slow, deliberate circles on your palm, a soothing motion that traveled from the space between your fingers down to your wrist, where it lingered, making small, tantalizing swirls. His touch…it was both a tickling sensation and something far more profound.

And now, it wasn't just your body—your ears too began to tingle as his lips brushed close, grazing your ear, warm breath stirring, carrying the thrill of his deep voice:

"Why do you hide your beauty cutie? Do you know what we Lemurian do when we fall in love?"

This man… how does he expect you to answer when he keeps breathing all over you like that, and those wandering hands of his are exploring every inch of you? Yet, as if spellbound by the sight of his irresistible form, your mouth moved faster than your thoughts, and a pleading voice, your own, slipped out—a voice that made you wish the ground would swallow you whole.

“How would I know…unless you tell me…ah!”

You’re entirely innocent of that “ah.” It wasn’t yours! It was Rafayel, who had drawn you close, kissing the nape of your neck. The embarrassment overwhelmed you, compelling you to bury your face against his shoulder. But it seemed that today, he intended to take charge.

Before you could fully hide your face, a strong arm encircled you, pulling you down into the tub. The sudden plunge left you with no choice but to cling to him, arms tightening around his neck, legs wrapping instinctively around his waist.

And oh, whether this action was wise or not, you still cannot decide, for immediately afterward, you felt the warmth and solidity of an unmistakable presence down below pressing against you, and Rafayel didn’t seem the least bit surprised or inclined to withdraw. It was as if he knew what it signified, and what would follow.

Before you could fully process the sensation, Rafayel pulled you even closer, his hands gripping your waist, pressing you tightly against him, making the position you were in with him all the more suggestive. You clung to him like a budding flower clings to a centuries-old tree, unaware of the world’s ways, helplessly entrusting yourself to his strength.

And today, Rafayel revealed to you a depth, a side of him that you had never seen before.

With you completely enveloped in his embrace, he pressed you against the edge of the tub, his body molding to yours from above, his face buried in the hollow of your neck. His hands moved from your waist to your bare back, stroking up and down with a tenderness that contrasted the intensity of the moment. His lips trailed along your neck, leaving a series of kisses that sent shivers down your spine, each one coaxing out soft, involuntary moaning sounds that only deepened your blush.

As he traced the curve of your neck with his warm, moist lip he left trails of heat with each kiss, his voice rumbling through you as he spoke between breaths:

”When Lemurian love, we use all our senses…to feel the one we cherish…so never hide your beauties from me my cutie…”

To prove his point, his kisses continued to rain down, traveling from my jaw to my forehead, down the way to my nose, and stop right before hovering over to my lips. His hands, meanwhile, wandered over my body, caressing each curve of mine, until they finally settled at the very place that had filled me with such mortification earlier. His hands and eyes radiated a searing heat that seemed to ignite a fire within me, a warmth that spread throughout my entire being. His gaze, though still fixed on my lips, was heavy with something unspoken.

His voice, now rough with emotion and the thick heat of the moment, asked:

”Then would you let me….use all my senses…to feel you?”

You didn’t fully grasp the depth of his words, but the heat coursing through me made it clear that I wanted something more intense and overwhelming, like a tidal wave crashing against the shore of your reasoning.

Each breath, each touch he offered sent you spiraling deeper, until you were barely conscious of anything other than the rising tide within you. All I could do at that moment was to whisper back,

”Please do…as you wish…”

[steelycunt]

"do you defend him or is it more of an acceptance of how terrible he is"

s girl anon here to explain this!!

In my experience, it is an odd combination of both. I’m going to get really controversial rn but I don't think he's that terrible. in fact, I would go as far as to say he's redeemable and compelling and an overall good person who makes questionable decisions from time to time. hear me out!! I don't necessarily defend him as much as I explain his actions. exhibit A: the prank. I don't defend what he did but I do try to find angles that help me understand his thought process because I don't think he was purposely being malicious as much as just reckless, impulsive, misguided, and led by anger while also trying to be protective of people he cared about - which I don't think is as controversial of a take. that being said, I am simultaneously an s apologist sooo.

I'm about to go on a bit of tangent, so i'm sorry. these are my more self-centered reasons. I see a lot of myself in him and looking at him exposes flaws within myself. but at the same time it allows me to give myself some degree of grace. because, despite, or maybe because of, all of his flaws I love him and think he's a good person. his desperate desire to be good and a better version of himself is just so very compelling to me (and relatable. we all have aspects of ourselves that unintentionally harm others and we have to try to better ourselves while still staying true to who we are). you've said this before but being better is something that he has to actively and consciously try to do. I think I sometimes think that certain things should be effortless and easy and instinctual, but I also don't think that's actually true. sometimes the fact that you are putting in effort is just as meaningful. we are shown things like love at first sight and "found soulmates" and other things that are "predetermined", but in order for love to really flourish you have to choose to make an effort, which is very scary to me. and to him too, I think. but he tries and he's not always good at it. but he always has caring and gentle qualities that line his actions when dealing w people he loves. I struggle w being selfless so so much and it's something I really dislike about myself because it can occasionally hurt people I deeply care about. so whenever I catch myself trying to change that it makes me feel better because it indicates some sort of growth even though it doesn't come naturally to me, and he reminds me of those attempts at growth.

also, sirius' tendency to unintentionally hurt people he's close to by being careless and then regretting it immediately afterwards... it's like looking in a mirror. he wants to be separated from his family and hold no similarities to them but he also struggle's with having shared characteristics that he sometimes doesn't even realize are there until he fucks up massively. and when he does he tries to get them out of his system but struggles. that desperation to prove himself after wake-up calls is just soooo real. I understand his regret and desire to be forgiven. frustration when that takes time and it seems as though his efforts are useless. that occasionally shifting into anger but then settling back into sorrow and deep-rooted regret while also having hints of self-pity. like I just am so obsessed with him. I understand him so much that it just makes me want to give him a hug even when he's fucked up. and I know that is not something you can relate to but when he's (rightfully) being shit on by other characters for his actions I just picture myself hugging him and telling him I know he can do better yknow? like, I just want to encourage him to keep trying.

I don't know if i'm making sense and I will probably come up w more reasons why I love him later, but I think for now this will do.

sometimes I look back at things i've done and ask myself "would sirius have done this" and usually when the answer is yes it correlates to it being something that got me into a lot of trouble. but oh well <3

anyway, I love this discourse ridi. I love hearing you talk about these two, you get them and your blog is one of my fav things ever. it makes me v happy and I will try to keep sending you snoopy/muppet-related things I see <333

hi!! im going to respond under the cut just because i sense i will have a rather rambling answer!!

first of all--for the record & For the Public (rather than in response to anything you've said specifically, anon) i want to clarify that i actually love s as a character. the cartoonish sort of dislike i pretend to harbour towards him on here is just an exaggerated little joke. i think he (and when i talk about him i'm referring more to the fan development of his character than the rather basic canon foundations) is a super complex and compelling character, but he's also posh and handsome and it makes me giggle to hate on him for that. i wouldn't write s as much as i do if i actually disliked his character, nor would i read him.

having established that!! i completely agree with everything you say here. obviously discussing certain bits of him (e.g. his relationship with r) we're inevitably going to veer away from objective canon and into subjective hc territory but...i dont think he's that terrible, to start. i think he's a bit reckless and jealous and has a rather volatile, dangerous temper that can make him capable of cruelty at times. ive spoken about this a lot before under my #s tag so i wont go into it too much here, but have exactly the same view of the prank as you do in as much as it was a poorly thought-out, impulsive act of anger rather than proof that he's an intentionally malicious person.

i think (and maybe this gets lost amongst my jokes) that he is a fundamentally good person. and as you said i think its all about the fact that he is trying and he continues to try, even if there are setbacks here and there. i absolutely adore writing him and specifically i adore writing him when he is trying, i love writing him when he's being sweet and gentle with r (and that isnt just because i think r deserves that sort of treatment as you say teehee <3) and i hope but dont necessarily assume that comes across in my writing/my answers to asks such as these, and that it seems like i handle his character with care and detail!! because i do try to!! i think the sort of hc-developed version of him that we're talking about here (because i think from the way you talk about him we characterise him very similarly) is a very real character and its not that aspect of him--which i can completely understand resonating with people--that i love to hate as much as it is the poshness and the prettiness. i think for his ego's sake that since he is the coolest guy in the room there should be at least one person (me) there to boo and humble him xx

anyway!! that's all really. s is so so fun for me to talk about and write about so thank you so much for your insight!! and for being so sweet!! i hope what i've said here sort of makes sense!! i love snoopy + muppet related things and i love YOU!! mwah!!

[violet-dragongirl]

I do want more stories where like...a character just goes fucking berserk without remorse or consequence and just ends the Big Problem the world has to face.

I want to see the consequences of that and hear about the beginnings of the after effects of that towards something better even though the main character created so much destruction and collateral damage in their wake

I also want stories where a character goes fucking berserk but is precise, calculative, and cautious and careful but will still end the Big Fucking Problem that plagues everyone.

I want to, again, see the consequences of that and hear about the beginnings of the after effects of that towards something better even though the main character created so much destruction and collateral damage even though they were meaningful, precise, compassionate, and thoughtful, and killed and destroyed exactly what needed to be killed and destroyed by any fucking means necessary after their cautionary strategy

I'm so fucking tired of having the Big Problem being named again and again and again and again and again, and WE DON'T GET TO THE POINT WHERE THAT PROBLEM FACES ITS FUCKING CONSEQUENCES THEY JUST CONTINUE TO EXIST I FUCKING HATE THAT GIVE ME FUCKING CLOSURE ALREADY

[charcubed]

Is black sails a good show?

The fact that you feel the need to ask me this question means I have failed you. So, let me write you a quick manifesto!

I'm confident that Black Sails is the best complete television program I will ever witness in my life, and one of the greatest pieces of media on this Earth. It is a Goddamn masterpiece. It is a masterclass in storytelling. And it's about the oppressed fighting against their oppressors, and having that rage–especially queer rage–openly validated. Why would pirates exist outside of society and go to war against civilization? Black Sails endeavors to present the answer to that question: for freedom, and for love, and for freedom to love without constraints.

It's entertaining on a surface level with high budget production value, truly unparalleled acting, compelling characters, and realistically choreographed battles. But in addition to that, the show rewards analysis; the foreshadowing, literary mirrors, subtext, and social commentary are second to none. There is nuance and intent and consistency in every moment of it, and every character has purpose, even ~side characters~ you wouldn't expect to be important for the entire story. There's so much to notice and to discuss that the fandom is still writing meta constantly, and it ended in 2017.

Watching it was the most validating media experience I've ever had in my life in every sense, and I'm confident I will never experience anything like it again.

Here's an incomplete list of some of the themes the show weaves into its narrative:

• White supremacy

• Homophobia

• Racism/slavery

• Classism

• Ableism

• Sexism

• Compulsive heterosexuality

• Toxic masculinity

• Assimilation as tragedy

• History being written by oppressors

• The power of storytelling

Nearly all of its main (non-oppressor) characters are explicit or subtextually queer. I wrote an article about this (and it doesn't contain spoilers, if you want to read it), and I'll put a quick excerpt from it below:

Because the writers built its narrative on central queer themes, Black Sails exists in an extraordinarily unique space: it includes explicit textual representation that meets the most popular mainstream standards, but it also includes subtext and queercoding to inform and enrich the story’s layers. Having the former meant the writers had the hard-won luxury of not feeling an obligation to sacrifice the latter, as well as the brilliance to recognize that there is value in and a need for both forms of representation to coexist.

It is very much worth a watch. (and a rewatch, and another rewatch, and another rewatch...)

Here's what I tell people they need to know if they're going to watch it:

• It's 4 seasons long. 38 episodes.

• Don't Google anything. You should keep yourself from being spoiled to preserve the experience, in my opinion!

• It contains violence and nudity, so be aware of that. In my opinion, its violence isn't gratuitous–so that the times it IS intense, it's used to powerful effect as part of the story. (The pilot episode includes one of the most violent scenes of the whole show, so don't let that put you off lmao)

• Season 1 does have an element to it of sexual violence / rape for one character's storyline, but after season 1 nothing like that ever happens again, and immediately afterwards that character's story becomes one of the best of the entire show.

• I advise watching with subtitles to make sure you don't miss anything!

• Keep in mind that A) this is inherently a tragedy in several ways because B) it is set within history and as a prequel to Treasure Island. To quote Richard Siken, "This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.”

• Open your third eye.

• Think queerer.

I don't post about Black Sails on main very often precisely to try to keep people from being spoiled :) My sideblog for it is @freedom-in-the-dark and my Twitter is gaypiracy.

WATCH. BLACK. SAILS.

(And for the love of God, stop comparing other pieces of media to it. Things can be different and stand on their own varied merit and that's okay and good actually)

[odetojeons]

ok ok ok but what kinks do you think mingyu has 👀👀

okay so i’m gonna start answering the requests now like i didn’t disapear for one month :’) and omg i’m excited. I already said this before, I think mingyu is more of a sub than anything, but there are times. there are TIMES. when he doms it’s not too kinky, it’s more like carnal and (very fucking) rough sex in which he gets too impatient to be a good boy and grabs you by the hips, takes what he wants and just completely destroys you,, ANYWAYS, you can read more of my thoughts here. Y’all better sit down and buckle up cuz I have A LOT to say about this man (especially with how fucking much I miss him).

Praise Kink — I HAD to start with this one. I think you can all agree with me how much Mingyu loves being praised. There is actually a video of him getting red all over and whining because he got too happy when he was praised by the other members and IT’S JUST SO CUTE. Mingyu would downright meowl every time you told him how much of a good boy he is and how he’s perfect, so pretty just for me. But I also think he would love to praise you too, wants you to know you’re everything he’ll ever need.

Pet names — Idk if this is considered a kink, but please, he gives me such vibes of being into the pet names puppy or pup. We all know he’s considered the puppy of Seventeen, so I think it suits him and his personality a lot, especially because I think he would be so horny and desperate when it comes to sex. Calling him baby boy, angel, sweetheart, he would love it so much. Although he would love to call you by cute names too, and I think his favorites would be princess, prince and my baby.

Degradation — HEAR ME OUT, I absolutely think he would love being degraded. I just,, I can’t even begin to explain how much I think he would enjoy that. Mingyu is just so dirty, he would go all red when you tell him how he’s the filthiest little slut or are you that desperate for me you can’t even stay still? while he humps his cock on the pillow, too needy to wait for your touches. He could even cum just from such kind of words, in all honesty I think this is one of his major kinks ever, not just the verbal aspect of it but also the physical part too. 

Begging — Oh, yes. YES. Mingyu is all about begging. No matter how many times I think about it, I can absolutely hear his throaty and whiny voice saying please, please, please, let me cum, I have been so good, and he sometimes doesn’t even have to have a purpose or an incentive to do it, he just mumbles it without thinking like it’s the only word he remembers. It would come with the fact that he’s too horny for his own good, seriously, y’all don’t understand how much horny energy I feel this man exhuding.

Exhibitionism — We been knew how much he likes being watched. He may be shy about it, but I guess it can be related with his love for compliments. Although Mingyu would not only like people watching him, but also you as well. The way you move your body on top of him as you ride his dick, or the way he would put a hand on your lower back and make you arch impossibly more just so he could drill into you harder; the contrary of how he would cry and beg later when you edge him and tell him how much of a needy slut he is, being this desperate just because people are watching. ALSO ummm,, I try hard not to talk about other members here but, can I just say that I think him and Wonwoo are so much into watch each other fuck people. God, I even wrote like 18K words of porn of this particular thought. You can read it here.

Breeding Kink — Does this even need explanation? Mingyu would feel an almost animalistic need of putting as much cum inside you as he can. This would do as much as make him feral about it, when he has a stressing day or just because he wants to see his seed dripping out of your hole; no matter what compells him, it would get him aroused to the point where he wouldn’t even be able to wait until both of you get to the room, would rip and thorn both of your clothes off, put you on your knees and make you suck him off until he cums all over your face, just so he could fuck you against the wall afterwards. Which brings me to the next kink:

Strength/Size Kink — Well, is it possible to have a strength and size kink with yourself? Because he does. Mingyu would love to manhandle you around the place, fuck you against every surface of the house, especially if he gets to hold you up as your back is pressed somewhere. Not only that, but I also think it would be due to the movement of his hips. Or better yet; what comes after it. The way your ass and the back of your thighs would get red with how hard he’s thrusting into you, won’t be satisfied until you’re drooling because of his cock and simping for his muscles, bulging over the effort of fucking you. And I just know, I KNOW he would have a dirty mouth about it, would make questions like yeah? You like how strong I am? All this time on the gym gotta pay for something or falling appart on my big cock like you were made to, hm?. Fuck why am I like this. I LITERALLY BRING PAIN TO MYSELF.

Bondage — I think I’m writing too much so I hope y’all keep up with my horny ass, because I can’t stop until I say everything I want to say about him,, so, about this, Mingyu would love to tie someone up as much as he would love to be tied up... Okay, maybe I think he would love to be tied up more than tying someone up, if I’m being completely honest. He just gives this kind of vibes, maybe even as punishment for misbehaving, since he would sometimes be too desperate to wait like a good boy, and he knows you end up letting him take what he wants just because you would tie him up later and make him “regret” (the little shit would never regret anything, and neither would you).

Overstimulation/Edging — Oh, fucking definitely. I have this very vivid image of Mingyu sitting on a chair, hands tied up behind the chair back, legs spread and completely falling appart as you jerk him off. Flick your wrist faster and faster, just to get him on the edge and let go when he’s just there. Then, make that again and again and again, until he’s crying and begging for you to let him cum, and when you finally do, you only keep going, grip unforgiving. Watching his labbored breath of relief turn into little meowls, hips jerking away or closer, none of you are quite sure, but he wants it, saying don’t stop more like a moan than actual intelligible word.

Pegging/Anal Sex — Mingyu would be so shy about it at first. He would come to you, mumbling words you struggle to understand and cheeks burning red, until he manages to get out he wants you to fuck him. But oh lord, when he tries it out he would go absolutely insane. I really think he would be into it, into you rocking your hips and nudging your cock (plastic or not) against his prostate. Just imagine him with a dark blush all the way down to his chest, little whines and meowls that sounds too high and sweet for his own ears, body writhin all over the bed and fists clenching the mattress as his back arches. So damn cute and hot at the same time :( he just wants to be taken care of sometimes, being able to just lay down and have someone fucking him to oblivion.

Power Play — More like fighting for power to be honest. He really enjoys subbing, but when he does it he wants you to put him on his place, because Mingyu is irrevocably and completely a brat. He would tease you to the point where it drives you insane, just so you could snap at him and take what you want, as much as he loves when you do the same to him.

Spanking — Hmmm Mingyu and spanking. And he would do it hard. Full on open fingers going down on your ass until he leaves his handprint. To be honest, I totally think he’s the kind of boyfriend who would be possessive, wants his marks all over you neck and body, however, oh however, I also think he really really reeeeeally love when you do it to him. Everything, from the crescent shaped marks on his back, to the bite on his shoulder you accidentaly gave him when he was fucking you on missionary position, to the mark of your fingers on his cheek when you slap him for being a brat. Okay I kind of lost myself in the kink but yes. Mingyu and spanking.

Double Penetration — HOLY SHIT please tell me you agree with me. Like, fuck, there’s this evil side of him who wants to see you being speared open in more than one cock, wants to see you fucked into another dimension and reduced to an incoherent drooling mess, and it’s just so dirty of him, usually possessive and guarded, to let someone else get their hands on you just so he could watch you fall apart with two cocks. Or even him alone with a dildo, what it matters is to have two things inside you absolutely wrecking you. Or him. Oh shit why did I have to say that cuz now the image of him being double penetrated won’t ever leave my mind IT IS BURNED BEHIND MY EYELIDS FOREVER. Bye.

Choking — You damn right I think about his hands on my neck all the time. They look so big, and I’m sure it’s also something of his size kink, seeing his huge hands wrapped around your throat would make something ugly, something hot burn in the pit of his stomach. You doing it to him too, especially when he’s tied up, only being able to take what you’re willing to give him.

and that’s that! sorry (?) for writting too much, this always happens when I stay too much time without writting any filth,,, last time that happened, I speant two years without any smut so then I wrote 18K words of porn in two days (no, I didn’t sleep) AND I DON’T EVEN REMEMBER WRITTING HALF OF IT??? and the time before that, I simply wrote 12K words. what is wrong with me. anyways!! hope you liked it, tell me what you think and your opinions too!!

[themonotonysyndrome]

REDACTED verse -  A dinner and a show

Prompt: any | any | competition

Word Count: 2,460

Author/Team: LadyMonotone

Fandom/Original: Redacted ASMR (Vincent Solaire/Lovely)

Rating: T

Triggers: Explicit implications

Summary: It's a tradition within the Solaire Clan that the King would visit his progenies from time to time. Tonight, Will is coming over to Vincent & Lovely's apartment for dinner. What's not a tradition is the karaoke competition that comes afterwards. 

ConCrit: Y

I don’t know what happened. This oneshot just went out of my control but I had so much fun writing it today! I hope you guys enjoyed it! 

Also, I just realised that all the characters in my oneshots have been eating lately. Oh my god, I got so hungry when I was writing them that I subconsciously includes food in some of the scenes 😭 Food is my love language so I guess it’s cute that the bois and their lovers would sit down and eat together. 

That being said, I hope you guys will crave Korean food as much as I am in this oneshot! 😅

-

“Vincent? I need your help. Can you tell me what’s Will's favourite colours?”

“Lovely - ”

“Because I have some formal outfits in our closet, but they don’t mean shit if Will hate the colours.”

“Lovely, hang on - ”

“Is he allergic to perfumes? Colognes? I have some soft-scented bottles that should be Vampire-friendly! I think? Most of them are floral though… oh! Does he have a favourite flower? Do you think I should buy some before he comes over?”

“What? No, Lovely, I think you’re working yourself up - ”

“I know you bought some blood bags for dinner but do you think we should cook some food too? Does Will like to eat? Shit, I knew I should have bought some groceries yesterday after class!”

“You’re not listening to me at all, Lovely…”

“We have to clean up the whole place too. I don’t know how our furniture gets so dusty so quickly! I just wiped them down a few days ago!”

“...”

“Do you think I should do my hair too? It’s a bit of a mess lately; I could use a trim. Does Will - ”

Lovely's eyes widen as a deep kiss suddenly silences them. Their heart pounds when Vincent brings them close to his chest, trapping his lover in his arms. Lovely's eyes flutter close when he pulls away to press butterfly kisses on their neck. They couldn’t help it; they moan and tilt their head back when they feel fangs delicately drag down their tender skin.

“Vincent!” Lovely hisses, not sure for what, though, when Vincent's fangs pinprick where their pulse is.

“Oh? Are you finally with me again, Lovely?” Vincent breathes, loving how their heart begins to beat faster and faster in anticipation. His chest reverberates when he chuckles deeply. “There we go… I have your attention again, little one.”

They grumbled at the unfairness of it all. Just as Lovely knew all of Vincent’s weaknesses and tickle spots, he knew how weak their knees behaved when he pressed his fangs to any parts of his partner's body. Especially down south.

“I’m serious here, Vince.” Lovely whines. “There are so many things we have to do before Will comes over for dinner tonight. I want to make sure everything’s perfect.”

Vincent gives Lovely a deadpan look. They would’ve coo at how adorable he looks if it weren’t for his Vampiric speed and his habit of chucking them onto the bed whenever Lovely is being too stubborn to listen to reason. “Lovely? A question: are you dating my Sire or me?”  

Lovely blinks; they didn’t expect that. “Uh, you, duh.”

“Then trust me, as your boyfriend,” Lovely has no idea why Vincent emphasised that last word, but they knew better than to interrupt him when he gets like this. “That everything’s going to be fine. Besides, I told you that while this might look like the whole ‘meeting the parent’ shtick, the relationship between a Sire and their Progeny is way more than that.” He patiently reminds them.

“Well yeah, but he means a lot to you.” Lovely points out. Now, why did Vincent look so surprised at that? “So that means he’s important to me too. That’s why this dinner has to be perfect.”

For a moment, Vincent said nothing. He just stares at them in wonderment.

Lovely let out a surprised squeak when Vincent suddenly crushed them in a hug. “How did I get so damn lucky with you, Lovely?” He murmurs, face buried on top of their head. “Sometimes I think that you’re… too amazing to be real.”

So soft and sweet; that’s Vincent. Lovely lets him cuddle them like his personal teddy bear until he's satisfied.

“Now, I need you to do something for me, Lovely. Do you think you can do it?”

Lovely raise an eyebrow. “Depends on what it is, Vince. I haven’t eaten anything yet, so I can only give you at least four hours in bed - ”

“N-Not that!” Vincent hurries to interject, a brilliant red blush runs across his cheeks despite him being a Vampire. He coughs once to get them on track, playfully glaring at Lovely for trying to distract him. “Geez, Lovely. It’s still way too early for… that. But we're definitely going to revisit that. Anyway, I need you to calm down for a second, OK? Will is a pretty chill guy and an open-minded Sire. He knows how much I love you, so you have nothing to worry about.” He gently assures them, rubbing calming motions up and down Lovely's back.

Lovely could feel their anxiety melts away. Just enough for them to finally breathe again ever since Vincent dropped the bomb that William Solaire will be coming over for dinner tonight.

Apparently, everyone in the Clan knows that the King would visit his Progenies at least once a month to check up on them. Just like how a parent would drop by their children's home for a visit, in Lovely's opinion.

“Ok. You win, baby.” Lovely sighs, loving how his rubbing eases the tense muscles. They arch their back like a pleased, spoiled cat when Vincent messages that spot below their shoulders. “Ooooh, yes, that’s the spot!”

Once Lovely's bones feel like they could melt at any time, they throw Vincent a grateful smile.

“Now, there’s the smile I’ve been missing the whole day!” Vincent teases. “C’mon Lovely, let’s plan for dinner before we take our nap. How do you feel about seafood?”

“Oh, I can go for some seafood. It’s been a while.”

“Spicy steamed crabs with scallops, battered pan-fry oysters and some chilled bowl of rice top with raw salmon and sea bass with slices of your favourite veggies? All Korean-style."

“Hell yes. I think we have all the ingredients for that. Wait. Err, can Will handle spicy food?”

"Uh... I have no idea. Maybe we should hold back on that spicy steamed crabs with scallops just in case."

Ever since the two started living together, Vincent really took a shine when it came to cooking and baking. The idea of providing for Lovely makes him ridiculously happy, and besides, him whipping up healthy and delicious food for them results in much richer and sweeter blood flowing within his lover for him to feed on so… win-win!

As the two of them traverse to the kitchen to start preparing the ingredients for dinner, Lovely slowly gain the confidence that their dinner tonight with Vincent's Sire will turn out alright.

And before both of them knew it, the sun had set.

After a fresh shower, the entire apartment is now spotless (to Lovely's standard), and dinner is served on the table, the doorbell rings.

"I'll get it!" Lovely announce just as Vincent finish putting down the plates. They smoothen out the creases on their clothes, roll their shoulders before taking a deep, calming breath and answer the door. Like a soldier marching towards the battlefield.

Seeing his partner's dramatic reaction, Vincent just shakes his head.

As soon as Lovely opens the door, William Solaire greets them. "Good evening. I hope I'm not too early. The evening traffic has been quite a hassle lately. I figured that even if I'm a bit early, I could help you and Vincent in the kitchen." Will explains. In his arms is a bouquet of white pear blossoms, yellow gladioluses and red tulips. When Lovely stares at them curiously, Will smiles knowingly. "Vincent informed me that you don't drink, so I decided that flowers would be the appropriate gift as oppose to a bottle of champagne."

"They're so pretty." Lovely reply, breathless when they receive the bouquet. "Thank you so much, Will! I'll put them in a vase now. Oh, and please come in." They graciously step aside to let Vincent's Sire in.

While Lovely is busy rummaging for a vase in the storeroom, Will and Vincent make small talks over at the dining table. Vincent passes the ancient Vampire a tall glass of blood which Will accept with gratitude.

"Hey, Will. How's it going?"

"I'm fine, Vincent. Thank you for asking." Will reply after dabbing the bloodstain on the corner of his lips. "The Clan is the same as usual; Our Newborn members have finally settled in nicely, much to Sam's relief. I plan to visit them next week."

Vincent tops up Will's empty glass before replying. "That's great to hear." He's about to say something else before a loud bang against the wall in the storeroom stops him. "Uh, Lovely? Is everything OK in there?" He calls out.

"It's fine, it's fine!" Lovely shouts back. "I found the perfect vase for the flowers!"

Vincent groans in exasperation. When Will throws him a confused expression, Vincent is compelled to explain. "Look, Will, Lovely has been freaking out about tonight's dinner the whole day. They think that if it turns out anything but perfect, you're going to be disappointed in them. So just... just play along, alright?"

Will chuckles; his heart warms at the thought that Lovely holds him in such high regard. What an adorable human. "Is that so? Very well then, I will play the perfect guest towards such kind hosts."

And true to his words, when Lovely joins them at the table after putting the vase full of flowers on the coffee table in the living room, Will waste no time in kicking his charm to the max. In between their meal, Will makes sure to compliment Lovely's outfit (which earned him a shy yet pleased blush from Lovely and a jealous kick at his shin from Vincent). He then comments that the spicy steamed seafood dish is his favourite, and when desserts are introduced, Will gently helps Lovely open up by asking about their interests and hobbies.

Will is pleasantly surprised to find one of the many common grounds they share: their love for analysing music.

"I find RM to be one of the most brilliant lyricists in this generation." Will states once his bowl of red bean shaved ice is empty. "His songs are undoubtedly impactful for the youths of today. Not to mention that I'm quite fond of his wordplays."

"You're into K-pop!?" Lovely ask, utterly gobsmacked. Their eyes are wide in shock.

Vincent snorts. "Alexis is a BTS fan. Somehow, she managed to convert Will too."

When Lovely turn to face Will once more, their expression frozen in disbelieve, he adds, "We're planning to catch their concert once the situation permits it."

Will's pop culture admission finally broke the ice. Lovely laughs in delight before launching themselves into an animated conversation about modern music with Will.

However, it wasn't long before their topic suddenly went off the rail when Vincent claimed that he's a better shower singer than Lovely.

"Oh please, Vince, I thought you were dying in the bathroom," Lovely interjects with a roll of their eyes. Vincent splutters at his partner's cruel remark, but Lovely presses on without mercy, much to Will's amusement. He resolutely keeps his mouth shut despite his growing grin slowly making its way up to his face. "Face it, you're tone-deaf. Being a Vampire doesn't magically make you a good singer."

"Those are some fighting words, Lovely. Can you back them up?"

"We can settle this tonight if you want. You and me; we can duke it out in a singing swag off with Will as the judge." Lovey declares with a smirk before they head into the living room. All revved up as if their previous anxiety over dinner had never happened.

"Oh my..."

Vincent turns to Will with a grateful nod. "Thanks for helping them relax. And hey, you don't have to stay if you have some other plans tonight, Will."

Will stares back at his Progeny with a faux, scandalous look on his face, complete with a hand on his chest. "Why, Vincent, where would I be anywhere but here? It's not every day that I get to see you humbled by your lover. Don't think I forget that you were once known as the Playboy of the Solaire Clan."

Shock looks good on Vincent's face. It's cute that he actually forgot how he was before Lovely walks into his life. Oh, Will is going to milk this for all its worth.

"Alright! The system is set up!" Lovely announce from near the TV with a microphone in their hand. "Will, come on! You need to help me prove that Vincent sings like a dying cat. Here, here!"

"Oi, oi! We haven't even started yet!" Vincent rebuke and flits over to grab the spare microphone. "You know what, Lovely? I'm so confident that I'll win this that I'll let you go first."

Lovely grins viciously and accepts his offer. Once Will makes himself comfortable on the couch and signals for them to begin, Lovely open their mouth,

Will couldn't stop smiling as Lovely sings their heart out, and Vincent makes his grand entrance after they're done (singing one of Will's favourite songs in hopes to sway his Sire to his side). Vincent and Lovely are having the time of their life, teasing one another as they sing. Will commits this night into one of his most cherished memories.

*"Dari apa yang aku perhatikan

Manusia mahu senang tapi tak semua mahu berkorban

Dari apa yang mereka katakan

Ada yang jawab jujur tapi selebihnya kuat beralasan..."

However, as the night grows long, Will doesn't have the heart to tell them that they both are horrible singers.

-

Tonight, it's Sam's turn. Will deliver three knocks on his door before Sam swings it open. He looks exhausted, unamused and seconds away from running out of the house.  

"Good evening, Sam."

"Good evening, William. Before you come in, can I ask why my Progenies insist on having a karaoke competition tonight? On the night where they knew you were coming?"

Will begins to smile widely. Both he and Sam could hear a heated argument between Frederick and Bright Eyes from the living room.

"No, you can't sing Bambi, Bright Eyes. I won't allow it! You're going to break the windows!"

"Oh my god, would you let me live, Freddy!?"

"We've been over this; you can't sing! Wait. What are you - put down that microphone - "

Music starts to play at maximum volume, and then,

Sam closed his eyes and sighed deeply and in resignation when Bright Eyes began to sing louder to drown out Frederick's shrieking.

**“Feel it like memalla itteon mam wiro

seumyeodeun danbi

dabi piryo eopji

Because you’re my favourite..."

"I don't know what had happened - and I honestly don't want to know - but I hope you're ready to deal with these two tonight."  

"Why, Sam, where would I be anywhere but here?"

-

These are the English translations & link to the songs that Lovely and Bright Eyes were singing: 

*“From what I can see

People want the good life, but are not willing to sacrifice

From what I hear

Some are honest but others are full of excuses...”

**“Feel it like timely rain that seeps into my dry heart

No other answer is needed

Because you’re my favorite...”

[fullbusterfantasmic]

Love Potion ♋️ Chapter 4.7

Rated M

It’s all NSFW (As it should be)

1,933 words

A/N: The first position mentioned is called the butterfly or some shit (maybe?) idfk but I like it, & the second is the reverse cowgirl. Formatting is wonky, I know please look past it.

🌬Gray’s POV

The shine her eyes had held has begun to rapidly be overtaken as the (e/c) darkens, while she beckons me closer.

Her mouth is right beside my ear as she says;

“Ravish me...lay your claim on me...let every touch from you send me reeling, and begging for more...show me everything you’ve imagined doing to me and lastly...share every feeling you’ve kept hidden from me”.

The intense requests she made ignites a fire somewhere within me. Flames are rapidly consuming the protective layers of ice I’d long ago placed over my heart. Barriers erected after Deliora’s first attack, reinforced following the death of Ur...gone in an instant. Her tongue runs along the outer shell of my ear, lips placing a kiss to my temple. Pulling away, she then collapses back onto the pillows behind her, now surveying me through darkened, heavily lidded eyes.

My teeth clench as the familiar darkness begins to surface and my internal struggle begins. She asked for it....so why not give it to her? I shouldn’t...I....I’m ready to...no I NEED to let her in that now open space within my heart, within my very barren soul.

You don’t know what you do to me...

✨Your Pov

Im nervous...

I may have asked too much, it was too soon for me to come on so strongly! He still has yet to look at me, and his long bangs obscure his eyes from view.

“Gray I-“

I began to try and retract my previous statement but he interupts me. “From the very first moment I laid eyes on you I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen....and the most dangerous...” he moves out from between my legs, motioning for me to lay on my side. “ I knew if I got close to you I’d end up falling for you and that would put you at risk...”. One of his legs now rest underneath mine and my other rests over the top of his.

“Try as I might, I couldn’t force myself to get or stay away from you; somehow we always end up spending time together” he pauses, pressing a kiss to my temple before continuing; “ -and now we’re here...”.

The room is growing colder once more, goosebumps cover my exposed flesh and I lightly begin to shiver. My entire body is shaking by the time his voice reaches my ear; “With all that being said...I’m done explaining myself, and I’m done talking”.

“Now I’m going to fuck you senseless, this entire town will know you’re mine by sunrise” The vow is whispered to me in such an intimate way, it has my internal walls fluttering, before clenching around nothing. That is soon remedied; A surprised turned pleasurable cry slips out from between my lips as Gray effortlessly slides into me.

This position is a first for me, and experiencing it with this god like man...Said position has quickly become a “10 out of 10, must do again”. He holds my body so closely against his, and somehow those skilled fingers are still roaming up and down my sides. Occasionally pausing their ministrations to ghost across my chest or rub tantalizing circles Into my clit. The angle in which he thrusts into me puts the head of his cock in the perfect position to hit my G-spot each and every time he bottoms out.

The whole “I’m finished talking now” line was absolute bullshit! As soon the smug Ice mage was balls deep inside me, did the sinful whispers begin. Dear God! That deep husky voice alternating between uttering the most endearing things, having my eyes growing wet with tears. Only to make a flawless transition into speaking the most obscene and sensual promises (or threats), have my face continuing to burn red.

I was an absolute wreck.

“You should see yourself right now...Completely fucked out of your mind, slobbering all over, and tear stains coating your cheeks...yet still so breathtaking”. My enthralled lover may no longer be whispering, but the chill of his breath on my neck is still ever present. I don’t speak, I knew my ability of coherent speech had vanished long ago.

Gray doesn’t need my words to go off of now, not when my breath hitches and my body jerks involuntarily. “This one will be....number four right?” He sounds so proud. That wasn’t really a question, and I wouldn’t of answered it even if I could have.

As much as I craved release, my pride urged me to deny it. A small voice inside my head is saying; “Ignore the relentless tingling of your clit, the tight wound knot in your stomach, the pressure from that magnificent cock sinking itself into your deepest depths...”.

Dammit ___________, get it together!

You are a proud Fairy Tail mage; A living embodiment of strength, determination, and destroyer of adversity! You’ve let this man turn you into putty within his hands, he thinks he owns you! Now it’s time for you to reclaim your pride and turn the tables on him!

Who am I kidding?

🌬Grays POV

“Holding back now are we?”

I can’t help but tease her when she’s trying so hard to hide the fact that I have her teetering on the edge of bliss. She lets out and annoyed huff and I poke one of her inflated cheeks, making sure my cock is buried inside of her as far as it can go.

“You take my cock so well baby, you’re already starting to shape to me on the inside...you’ll be my perfect little cock sleeve in no time” I murmured before giving her another nice dark love bite to match the one on the other side of her neck. “I know you want to drench my cock some more” my ice coated finger flicks against her clit before circling over it.

“Hah!” she shrieks at the frozen contact to her bundle of nerves, involuntarily jerking and in turn slamming her hips backwards, burying my dick inside her once more. The tip of my head just barely makes contact with her cervix, and then her walls suddenly contract, clamping down around me. I have to give every effort to not paint them white as not only her ecstatic wail reaches my ears, but I look down just in time to see her lightly spritz the hand id been using to play with her clit.

For a moment my brain begins to short circuit, and then it just shuts down completely.

✨ Your POV

That was....incredible.

Several minutes pass with my mind reeling from the intense orgasm I’d just experienced. It’s like I’m drunk, but not from the alcohol I’d consumed earlier. Drunk from the dopamine flooding my brain, and my heart swelling with overwhelming feelings of love. Love....love for the man currently sharing my bed.  Before I can turn to Gray and embarrass myself with a bunch of post orgasm love drunk rambling, I remember something....oh my god.

I sober up and am slammed back into reality almost instantly. My face begins to burn and I Stifle a cry of humiliation as I realize; I’d just squirted all over his hand! That’s never happened to me before! Gray hasn’t said one word...he’s been silent since it happened! He probably has a look of disgust on his face, I can’t bring myself to look and see.

I try to move,, intent on getting away to take refuge on the other side of the bed. His arms immediately constrict around me, “Oh no you don’t, you aren’t going anywhere!”.  Suddenly he’s flat on his back keeping a firm grip on my hips as I’m forced to straddle him. Glancing over my shoulder I see the proud smirk he’s wearing, then he speaks; “Never had a girl do that before...I like it” giving me a wink afterwards. “Sh-Shut u-up” I mumble as I return my gaze to the wall in front of me, breathing deeply in attempt to calm my palpitating heart.

“Y’know normally I’d give you a little break but... I can’t...not after seeing you do that” he pauses, and I can’t see his eyes roaming over my back side, but I feel his hands slide down from my hips. Then a sharp SMACK resounds around the room, followed by my startled gasp. “Ride me...now!” a fierce growl preludes another sharp smack to my other ass cheek.

I don’t even bother to stop the excited shake that over takes my body, the sudden change into this demanding demeanor is thrilling! Keeping my back to him, I’m quick to position myself over his length and begin to sink down on it. The soft mewl I emit is drowned out by a hiss as the tip of his dick slips between my lips. “That’s it...good girl” he praises as he begins to rub out the red marks on my ass.

Eager to please I get straight to work.

Albeit a bit awkward at first, but Im able to get a steady rhythm going in no time. “So much better than in my dreams...fuckin’ hell __________ your ass is perfect! Yeah that’s it babe, bounce it just like that” Gray mumbles appreciatively, completely enamored with the sight in front of him. “Dream about me often do you?” I tease, throwing him a smug glance over my shoulder. “More often than I’d ever care to admit, now turn around and face me would you?.

I do as he asked, rotating my body to face him. He gently pulls me down towards him and I stop short, my face now inches above his own. My stomach feels like it’s filled with butterflies at the sudden closeness. Unsure of what to do I quietly whisper an awkward sounding “Hi”. A wide grin appears on his face as he responds; “Hi” followed quickly by a chuckle at my sudden awkwardness.

Now we’re both smiling at each other like complete dorks, and I’m compelled to lean forward and kiss him. I resume my ride as his tongue curls around mine, quickly losing myself in the passion of this moment. Gray is quick to pick up the slack, thrusting his hips upward each time mine sink down. The atmosphere in the bedroom has changed, we both feel it. When I say his name again it comes out in a breathy whine.

His eyes reflect an emotion I’ve never seen in them before and his tone is gentle when he says “I know baby, hold on just a little longer for me”. Strong arms wind themselves tighter around me, drawing my body in as close as possible as he speeds up the pace of his thrusts. “I want to feel you gush all over my cock when I finally get to cum inside you” his lips are on mine again, kissing me passionately while bouncing me up and down on his cock.“That okay with you baby? Do you want me to fill up this tight little cunt?”

My confession comes out quick and shameless; “Yes! God there’s nothing I want more right now, I’ve wanted that for ages!”.

“Tell me, who do you belong to now snowflake?”

“YOU! I belong to you now Gray”

“Tell me you need me”

“I need you, I never want to be without you, so please just-“

“Tell me...” he pauses, placing a hand on my cheek and staring into my eyes.

“Tell me you love me”.

[capri-ramblings]

Ooh requests are open! Can I request some headcanons on how the yandere octavinelle trio + Malleus and Lilia would react to their s/o being poisoned and afflicted with sleeping death where the only cure is true loves kiss? And surprisingly, their s/o actually wakes up afterwards.

Excuse me,yansweet, how dare you have such a deliciously well thought idea? I didn't do Azul and Floyd because they ended up a bit too similar with Jade though,so I hope you don't mind! 💖💖

Please Refer to Pinned Post. [This post was set on cued!]

[ True love's kiss? ]

Malleus Draconia

- Malleus is furious at first.

- He's blundering the halls of his castle when he hears of the misfortune cursed onto you

- How dare anyone lay their hands on you? And who were the fools who were so incompetent to allow it in the first place?

- This Fae King is ready to tear down the walls of his ancestral home until Lilia comes to soothe his anger, reminding him that if it was a curse begotten by another other than himself that there would be a cure for it no doubt.

- So,he simmers down. Compels himself to unsheath his claws and fury for another day.

- For now, he must go see you

- He smiles lightly when he does; The mere figure of you laid atop his bed in what seemed to be a deep slumber dousing his rage of fire.

- What an odd feeling he has when you are present. This gentleness that you evoke in his core is something Malleus believes no other being could give him.

- You are his special bride. His soulmate.

- "A true love's kiss" He murmurs underneath his breath, earning glances from both Lilia and Silver as they stood on each of his sides.

- Malleus considers this notion thoughtfully, wondering if he'd be able to do so for he wasn't a fool (though he felt he was one for your love) and he was aware of how stoic and reserved you had been with him despite the closeness he's tried to build with you.

- If he had kissed you then and you remained asleep. It would shatter a great deal of both his pride and heart.

- How would he cope with such a rejection?

- Truly,if he couldn't have you then no one else would have the chance to be.

- But if he did not attempt this then you'd remain asleep forever, and that seemed a fate worst than death or rejection.

- For then you'd be further away from him. You would have your freedom,your peace and he would be left with just a remnant of your existence.

- No, Malleus didn't want that.

- He wanted you, your soul,your laugh. He wanted to see the glistening of life kindling in your eyes, the sound of your voice cooing in his ears.

- If you remained in deep slumber, he would have none of this

- And he'd go mad.

- The world would matter not to him.

- If you demanded a kiss to awaken, he will give it to you. And if you refused him, he would litter your body with each mark of affection he has to offer.

- For if the Fates denied him your love , he would deny the world of peace.

- "Leave."

- The words were an order,drawled out with enough demand that Lilia and Silver didn't spare a second to obey.

- Malleus strode to his bed and allowed his gaze to drink the sight of your serene beauty bared before him, the way the light sprites lingered around you reminding him of a star he saw when he was younger.

- He wanted to ask you if you'd be willing to have him. If you could find it in your heart to accept his twisted one.

- Surely, a life encased in a dream was far from what you wanted as well?

- He knew you always had a spirit for living, and that by keeping you at his side Malleus had taken that away from you.

- But he'd promise to not repeat his mistakes.

- He'd allow you the freedom you so wished for so long as you accepted him as your one and only.

- Your true love. That's what he wanted.

- Malleus takes the place beside you, his weight causing the bed to sink ever so slightly as he leaned down to your face.

- Your subtle scent of flowers and grass greeting his senses almost immediately.

- "Be mine" He cooed,coaxed. Voice as gentle as a summer's breeze, a yearning song from the woods. "And I will give you the world."

- His lips presses onto yours gently and without a hint of greed in it. The sensation of being ruffled by the wind causing Malleus to furrow his brows before he loosened his body and deepened the kiss.

- Once he pulled away and your eyes remained shut, Malleus gripped the sheets. Expression feral, like a wounded beast.

- But then, your chest heaved a fraction more than it did before and Malleus watched in awe as your eyelids began to flutter open and your lips parted in a silent murmur.

- "___?" Your name leaves him breathless as it slips from his mouth and you turn your head in his direction.

- The glazed look in your gaze slowly regaining its composure the longer you lingered on his expression.

- "Malleus..." You called,soft and gentle it has him craning his head over you like a shrine to be worshipped. His hands gathering yours as he lifts them up to his lips where he lets it linger on your skin.

- "Malleus,I...I was asleep..."

- "Cursed,my raven." Malleus cut in, the hint of aggression he held before returning. "Someone had cursed you into an eternal sleep"

- Your expression shifted,from dazed to disbelief as you looked around the room before returning to Malleus's grief stricken form.

- "Eternity didn't seem to change much of your room."

- Malleus's eyes widened.

- Then,he laughed at you for that. A sound so broken and worn,you had trouble believing it came from the very same Fae who you knew to be cold and proud.

- "You didn't reached an eternity yet. I broke the curse." He said, and you tilted your head.

- "How?" The question was a quiet one, as if you didn't want to stir up the silence in the room.

- Malleus looked you straight in the eyes then. Gaze still and unwavering.

- "With a kiss." He said "A true love's kiss."

- And if that didn't answer his pleas, then perhaps, you could tell him yourself. For now, he knew the Fates were on his side and nothing you say would make him think otherwise.

Jade Leech

- Jade is livid.

- The very seams of control and patience he's paid attention to uphold slips through his facade like sand and his fists feel cold.

- The rush of aggression coursing through his veins then makes him see red as he strides his way to you.

- Floyd and Azul are waiting on him there, each standing at either side of your bed. He wants to tell them off for it, to bare his jaws and tell them that he didn't need anyone to play nurse for you.

- He knows it's unreasonable to act in such a way but he can't help it.

- All that meticulous planning to keep you from others reach, wasted.

- And it's entirely your fault,isn't it? You and your stubborn will to slither away from your one and only. The ungratefulness has Jade seething with more rage than he could ever contain.

- If only you'd stay put and not run off...This wouldn't be happening. You wouldn't be hit by that curse and Jade wouldn't need to wrack his brain for a solution to this mess.

- His wrath is silent though. Not a single word escapes him as he takes in the sight of your sleeping figure.

- Floyd makes a chide comment about it, ignoring the harsh glower in Jade's eyes but ultimately saved by Azul who seemed able to read the mood and divert the topic towards another.

- It takes days for them to figure out the cure for your curse but even when it's laid on the table before him, Jade finds himself frowning.

- A true love's kiss? What kind of childish fantasy was this? How could a curse strong enough to keep you asleep for an eternity be broken by a mere kiss?

- Surely this was some sort of joke. Jade turns to Azul for another possibility, but the Octo-Mer simply shakes his head.

- Jade involuntarily clicks his tongue, something he rarely does so openly but he thanks Azul for the information and asks to be left alone.

- He doesn't need anyone telling him the consequences if his kiss doesn't stir you awake.

- Then again, if he doesn't at least attempt to do anything, you'd remained unconscious and that was practically a death sentence wasn't it?

- Jade applauds you for making him internally conflicted. The fact that you alone could make him want to tear apart the world was no small feat after all.

- He somehow feels entitled to answer this ridiculous demand of yours, seeing that if he does wakes you up then it will be something he'll use against you

- Because if Jade breaks the curse it means you and him were meant to be, and he'd have the proof for it.

- So,he swallows his rage and he leans down to kiss you.

- In that moment where you actually stir awake and let out this almost pained gasp, Jade finds himself staring at you in awe.

- The very chains of his possessiveness coiling around you as his thoughts gathered together in one single notion of acceptance.

- He was your true love's kiss.

- How fascinating. How rewarding.

- Safe to say after this little event, Jade's primal aggression over you heightens to a frightening degree. Though oddly enough, he lets you do whatever you wished, going as far as allowing you to live away from him.

- And this is because, Jade has the full assurance that no matter how far a distance you placed between you and him or how harsh you acted towards his affection, it doesn't change the fact that if you were to fall into a deep slumber, the only one to pull you out from it is none other than Jade himself.

Lilia Vanrouge

- Lilia's temper simmers but he isn't entirely mad enough to start a war.

- No,he's a patient man and one with boundless knowledge.

- He's quick to identify the curse as a traditional sleeping curse and finds the cure for it rather amusing.

- He doesn't know if he's your so called true love, knowing very well that the relationship he's put you in is one similar to eternal confinement, but his heart flutters at the thought of you waking up because of his kiss, even if he knows it will never happen.

- Lilia is enamored by you, so much that he's taken note of every single aspect of your life. From your lineage to the people you linger about with to that boy you've always been in love with ever since your childhood years.

- You can't really hide anything from him, can you?

- He wonders if he can cheat the little curse with a transfiguration spell but then laughs at himself for such naive thinking.

- Instead, he sings you songs, every night. Not lullabies or love poems, but songs of ancient Faes. The kind that spins humans into a web of submission both body and soul.

- Oh,he knows he isn't your true love but he could be the one you can't live without, and that's all the same for Lilia.

- The song weakens the spirit of a human, and in turn the body itself, and a curse will only last for either a certain amount of time or until the one afflicted by it is dead. So, Lilia pushes you into a near death state, lulling your senses so dangerously low until you're pale as death and he can barely hear your heartbeat.

- Then seconds before you die, he cuts the curse off and reverse the song, healing you completely. It's a flawless plan yet risky if not handled by the right hands. Lilia smiles at his success, and that smile broadens when he leans down to kiss you, minutes before you stir awake and find that the person you lifted your curse was none other than Lilia himself.

- You're confused, but relieved. You hadn't remembered how you were placed under such spell but you remember the death-like state you felt, the way your body seemed to grow weaker each passing day you kept your eyes shut, but then as immediately as it happened, the heavy burden disappears and is replaced by the most soothing sensation you've ever experienced.

- And it's all because Lilia kissed you?

- You couldn't actually believe it, but how do you doubt something that felt as gentle as the lips that saved you?

- Perhaps, you've misjudged him. Suddenly,Lilia didn't seem all that hard to love.

[xxwritemeastoryxx]

Welcomed Distraction

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Damon Salvatore x Reader

Word count: 1.7K

Warnings: Mentions of plotting murder but nothing else?

Author’s note: Welcome to fluff week! And here is how we're gonna start the week off. With a very Anti-Valentines day fic. What other way is there to start this holiday? XD I swear this is the only anti vday fic I have for this week. It is kinda Vday centered, so it's not like ya'll are missing out. Plus I needed this scenario. And I could only picture Damon for this so, here you go!

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things

Flires covered the halls with posters for the dance this weekend. The Bitter Ball was meant for all of those that were heartbroken could get together and express how much they hated Valentine's Day. Of course those that celebrated were going to be out on their dates, spending their time with their loved ones.

Y/N wouldn’t be going out on a fancy date. Nor would she be spending her time at the Bitter Ball. It wasn’t like she had recently experienced heartbreak that would make her want to attend the dance. She was just single.

She had tried proving several times that there was nothing wrong with it. But of course her friends had tried setting her up with someone days before, but it didn’t end up working out. And Y/N actually preferred that. Why spend the money to show off how much you love someone on one specific day.

This way she could stay home for the night. It meant she could stay in her pajamas and binge watch whatever was on Netflix that caught her interest. There was no need to get dressed up for anyone and that was how she wanted it. All that was needed was an assortment of junk food and a drink of her choice.

And it was as Y/N was getting ready to plop into her bed and begin watching a serial killer documentary when there was a knock at her door. For a brief moment, she thought of just ignoring it and climbing into bed. But the other part of her believed that if it was anyone had to come find her, it must have been important and left her room to go answer the door.

Her eyebrow raised as she took in Damon Salvatore standing on the opposite side. She could see he had obviously been dressed for the Bitter Ball. The all black outfit had given that away seeing as it was a requirement for it.

“You know, when I was told everyone was heading to the Bitter Ball, I was surprised not to see you there.” Damon said as he leaned against the doorframe.

“I’m not bitter.” Y/N said as she took a step back to allow him to enter her home. “I’m single. There’s a difference.”

“I doubt everyone that’s there isn’t exactly bitter.” He said as he walked in.

Y/N chuckled and shook her head. “Caroline is bitter.” She noted. “You on the other hand, I can't exactly figure out why you’d want to go to the anti-valentines day ball.”

It was his turn to chuckle. “A bitter heart tends to lead to nights of very entertaining activities.” A smirk pulled at his lips, causing her to roll her eyes. “I mostly went because I thought my partner in crime would be there to be miserable with me. But she wasn’t there and when I found her, she’s ready to veg out without so much as giving me an invite.”

Her eyebrow raised. “I never took you for wanting to stay in and just eat junk food while watching serial killer documentaries.”

“Not with just anyone.” He said with a shrug. “But with you, I’d do it.”

Y/N eyed him a moment. For as long as she had known the man standing in front of her, she had never just been content to just sit there and watch documentaries. After a few seconds she nodded her head. “100 says you’ll get bored and start complaining about some of the cases.”

Damon laughed and shook his head. “That’s a bet I’ll take and even win.”

“Somehow I doubt that.” She said with a shake of her head as she began making her way back towards her room with him in tow.

As they both had settled into Y/N’s bed, Damon had every intention of winning the bet. If it meant he could spend some time with Y/N, he was going to do so. At least that was until they got some details wrong about a case that he had personally had a part in and that seemed to irk him.

A smirk had pulled at Y/N’s lips as she watched him from the corner of her eye. She could see the way his face either scrunched up in disbelief at the facts that had been pouring out of the narrator. Or even the way he sat up straighter and crossed his arms over his chest. It was in complete contrast to how laidback and comfortable Y/N had been.

“Just admit it, you’re ready to complain.” Y/N said as she never took her eyes off the tv.

Damon shook his head. “Never. Just really getting into this amazing documentary with all the wrong facts.”

Y/N laughed and stuck out her hand towards him. “That was a complaint. And I’ll take my money now.”

“That was not a complaint.” He said shaking his head as he looked over at her. “That was merely an observation.”

“An observation, my ass.” She chuckled. “That was a complaint on how they have the wrong information.”

“One would say that’s an observation that they gave credit to a serial killer, when in fact it was a Vampire.” He said with a shrug of his shoulders.

“What other observations do you have to voice?” She asked with a raised brow knowing she was about to win the bet.

“For one, they managed to say this guy had over 50 victims when, let’s be honest is more like 10 and was given credit for some that were not in fact his.” Damon continued on with every ‘observation’ he noticed during the first hour of what they’ve seen.

It was as Y/N rolled over on her stomach and propped her head on her fist, and a small smirk pulled at her lips that Damon realized he had gone into a full blown tangent on just how wrong the documentary had been. He had stopped mid sentence and took in her position and shook his head.

“Fine, you win.” He said with a roll of his eyes.

She began laughing away at his reaction and her laughter grew at seeing the slightest pout form on his lips. Damon was the one that usually won bets against a lot of people. But when it came to Y/N, she somehow won them. Even when her odds were against her.

The group used to say that was her supernatural ability. To be able to make bets go in her favor. But Y/N was as ordinary as they came. She wasn’t a relative of anyone special, she wasn’t descended from any kind of witch coven or royalty. She was as human as they came and she preferred that.

The moment the laughter died down, Damon watched her for a moment. “Want to talk about it?” He asked, keeping his attention on her.

His words hadn’t caught her off guard. She had been expecting them from the moment he had shown up at her door. But even then, her face fell and she looked away from him as she thought about it.

She may not have been bitter, but Y/N had gone through a bad heartbreak almost a year ago. One that left her broken in a way she’d never believed she would ever feel. That had been before she met the Salvatores and found out about the world she now lived in. While her friends had known about it, they always tried to get her back on the horse. But she never had been ready to do it.

“I don’t think I am.” She said with a shake of her head. “One day I’ll be able to talk about it without reliving it.” Even as she spoke of it now, she felt an emotion bubbling within her. “That time is just not right now.”

Damon laid back on the bed so that he was leveled with her. “You know I could always make him some serial killer’s next victim.”

Y/N chuckled and shook her head. “I think that would complete your previous offers of compelling, eating him and ripping his heart out.”

He smirked. “Just say the word, point me in the right direction and it’s done. No questions asked.”

“I’m surprised someone hasn’t done it already.” Knowing her friends, she was expecting it. Especially with the way everyone went behind each other’s backs from time to time to make sure they were safe.

“Oh, we’ve been tempted.” He said with a nod. “Okay, mostly me, but that’s because I'm impulsive and usually don’t care what other people say.”

“What stopped you this time?” She asked, curious. As Damon had said, he did things without thinking. And the fact that he had thought about doing so from time to time and not actually doing it had surprised Y/N.

“Because, believe it or not, while I’m impulsive and do things behind the backs of the people I care about, I don’t think I’d be able to handle your reaction afterwards.” He nodded his head. “I can handle everyone else being angry with me, or even hating me for a period of time, but I don’t think I could handle it coming from you.”

Y/n nodded her head as she took in his words. “I don’t think I could hate you, Damon. You could go out there and kill him tonight without me knowing and I still wouldn’t hate you for it. I’d probably thank you in the morning once I found out.”

“Well,” He said with a smirk pulling at his lips. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard someone be okay with murder.”

She chuckled as she pointed towards the still playing documentary. “It would be interesting to see what details they’d get wrong when you’re the culprit.”

While she may have been only slightly joking, the whole conversation had distracted her from the hurt that she had been secretly hiding from the others. Planning out a revenge with a vampire was the last thing she had been expecting to do tonight. But the way it happened showed she was getting better.

Because creating a hypothetical murder scene with a vampire is just the next step of the healing process.

Always and Forever Tags:

@taylordrunkonwhiskey @thewolf-and-thesheep @wayward-dan @neeadinghugs @fafulous @kenmen02 @elizamonet @dora-the-grownup @mschellehitt @xanderling @fandom-princess-forevermore @buckysarm4 @hi-my-name-is-riley @helenasingers @mrs-jackson-kenner @hellotvshowtrash @dpaccione @dumble-daddy @theactressstaringinyourbaddream @maldita-world @nikmikaelsonswife @mikaelson-emma @elijahs-wife @moon-child-writer @xoxo-nikki-xoxo @njeancastro316

[jamiemackenziefraser]

All That Was Fair

Chapter 33: Existing in the Bit That’s Left

Summary: Life goes on, whether we will it or not

Read on AO3

Previous, master list, next

Chapter 33: Existing in the Bit That’s Left 

***

When a hermit crab dies, its shell is left behind, sitting at the bottom of the ocean. Empty and lifeless, it remains motionless as the waves cover it with sand.

Jamie had once owned a hermit crab. After it had died, it rattled him that the beautiful shell that looked so much like his pet remained even though the crab was gone. 

Now, Jamie himself was nothing more than a hollowed out shell. 

He knew his heart was gone, every ounce of love within him ripped away, but what had surprised him was that it was as if she’d taken his very body with her as well as his soul. He didn’t have the energy for even the most basic tasks. Food was tasteless. His vision seemed foggy. As tired as he was, he couldn’t sleep. Life seemed to happen around him, but he hardly managed to bring himself along with it. He was being buried under the weight of the emptiness. 

Nothingness shouldn’t have been so heavy. 

He spent three weeks laying in his bed. Barely eating, barely moving. 

Jamie was aware that he was wasting away, but he couldn’t seem to care. Claire wouldn’t want him to give up without her. Even more compelling, he wouldn’t want her to act like this without him. Even as he’d sent her back through the stones, he’d told her to live a good life without him. He wanted her to be able to move on. Except he couldn’t bring himself to do the same, and he never would. After knowing the joy of a full life, there seemed nothing left for him in this hollow existence. 

If he could have reached out and grasped onto some sort of hope in his new life without her— not that any seemed to exist— he still would have chosen not to. All the right decisions, the healthy decisions, the ways to cope and move forward— they all seemed like a betrayal. He didn’t want to move on; he wanted Claire back. 

The first time he’d uttered the horrible truth of Claire’s absence outloud was when Murtagh had forced it out of him. His godfather had come banging on his door after Jamie had ignored his texts for weeks, eventually barging in on Jamie’s state of depressed chaos. He had dragged him out of bed, forced food down his throat, and shoved him in the shower. After Jamie looked less like a corpse, Murtagh coaxed the story out of him— at least, the only story Jamie could give. 

“She’s gone,” he forced out. Hearing the words aloud was like a knife to the gut. He’d known they were true— every beat of his heart without the answering one of hers next to him made that truth abundantly clear. But being forced to say it aloud brought a whole new level of pain. 

Murtagh clearly didn’t know whether he meant she’d broken up with him or died. His godfather tried to probe him for details, but Jamie didn’t have it in him to explain anymore. 

“There’s nothin’ left for me,” Jamie rasped, “she was it. Claire—” his voice broke on her name, but he forced it out, finding some amount of reverence in the shape of it on his lips, “ Claire was my heart and soul. I dinna ken what to do, a ghoistidh.” 

“Ye do what ye have to, lad,” Murtagh said firmly, “ye keep going.” 

“How?” he looked up at him with tears shining in his eyes. “How can I keep going without her?” 

Murtagh brows drew together as he grew thoughtful. His expression reflected the gravity of the situation. His godfather knew that he was desperate for a reason to keep going, crying out for help. Words couldn’t heal him, but something had to be said. Murtagh took his time before saying them, very carefully. 

“Ye’re no’ without her, though. No’ really. Ye’ll carry her memory wi’ ye. Ye keep going, and ye bring her wi’ ye, even if it’s no’ in the way ye would have liked.” 

Jamie swallowed the bile rising in his throat. All he could hear was buzzing, the cotton in his ears growing somehow thicker. 

“I don’t want to,” he forced out, shaking his head, “I don’t—”

The meager contents of Jamie’s stomach rose, and he rushed to the trash can before collapsing to his knees and heaving into it. The grief in his heart tried to force its way out of his body, and he wished it could just end this and tear him from inside out. Murtagh hovered behind him, offering him a wet towel, and Jamie sat back heavily against the cool wall. 

“I ken she wouldna want me tae give up,” Jamie said quietly, barely above a whisper, “but I just dinna want tae keep going.”

Murtagh’s eyes swam with emotion and his face crumpled underneath his beard as his brain came to a conclusion. Clearly his godfather thought the love of Jamie’s life had truly died. And she may as well have been to Jamie, or maybe she had actually di—

The fear that Jamie had been fighting for weeks rose inside him again. It was possible that Claire really was dead. More than just possible. She’d said coming through the stones had been torture, and she’d been so weak afterwards when Jamie had found her the first time she’d gone through. He could only imagine what the trip had done to his barely conscious lass, hanging on by a thread. Or maybe he had waited too long and it had been too late. Maybe she’d gotten back and was too weak to even draw energy anymore. Maybe she’d died on that hill, all alone, grieving his loss as much as he grieved hers.  

This fear haunted him, both waking and sleeping, tearing him into pieces. Seeing Murtagh’s face as the man thought Jamie was mourning her death, Jamie wasn’t so sure he wasn’t . He wished he could know what became of her— anything to stop this horrible speculating that churned his mind. But he was left in the dark. Left to hold on to the tiny comfort that he had done what had to be done. 

For his wife. 

Jamie let his head fall onto his knees, hugging his arms around them so they were pressed tightly to his chest. 

“Jamie. I willna allow ye to waste yerself away,” Murtagh said firmly. “I ken ye’re hurting, and I would never suggest ye ignore it. I only ask that you take care of yerself, even when ye dinna want to. If not for the memory of her, then do it for me, aye?” 

He raised his red-ringed eyes enough to see his godfather, and he realized there was real fear lingering on Murtagh’s face. 

As much as he wanted to let himself fade away, he could never do that to the man sitting in front of him who he loved so dearly. 

“Alright,” Jamie agreed, “alright.” 

***

When Jamie was young, his parents had a yearly tradition where they would send him to his grandfather’s house to stay for a couple of nights. His grandfather was loving enough, but every time Jamie went, he was overcome with intense homesickness. He would cry himself to sleep each night of the visit, feeling like the guest room was freezing to the bone as he imagined the warmth of Lallybroch. 

Every day now felt like that homesickness magnified a hundredfold. 

Claire had been the true home of his heart. Jamie longed and ached for her in ways he hadn’t known possible. 

Only that home had been lost. And he was left lying awake at night dreaming of her warmth and missing her with every fiber of his being.

***

While driving on the highway during a long road trip, inevitably one will see a plastic bag being blown down the road. Aimless, empty, and completely at the mercy of the wind. Jamie would watch them sometimes, tracing their progress before they drifted away. But he never asked himself where it would end up because it didn’t matter. The bag would simply continue on, moving forward without a destination. 

Jamie was no more than a bit of plastic pushed by the breeze. He stayed rooted to his life only by his promise to Murtagh. He began to go about his days with empty precision. He would wake up at 8, brush his teeth, eat one cup of parritch, and head into work. Every night he would come straight home, take a 30 minute walk around his property, cook himself dinner, and fall asleep to the murmurs of the tv. 

On the rare nights when he allowed himself out of his robot-like trance, he would venture into the closet of the guest bedroom where Claire’s dresses still hung, and he would bury his nose in it, hugging it close to his chest, searching desperately for a whiff of her earthy-rose scent. 

On those nights, he would cry himself to sleep. 

Jamie continued on, but he had no idea what he was moving toward. 

***

When he was a lad of about 5, he and Willie had gone out to the barn to play. They had a bit of rope with them, and Willie thought it would be fun to try to walk a baby goat like they walked their dog, Rufus. They’d fashioned a leash for the poor thing, but when the time came to “walk” it, the animal had simply laid on its side as he and Willie had dragged it through the dirt, wailing its disapproval but not moving a muscle until Jamie’s parents had run out and grounded them for a week. For the goat, there hadn’t been so much active resistance as simply a complete shut down. 

When Jenny showed up at Jamie’s door one night, ordering him to get in the car to come over to dinner, Jamie had simply obeyed. Getting dragged was easier than fighting. 

She’d driven him straight to Lallybroch, where she, Ian, and the brood resided, and Jamie somehow managed to find a weak smile within himself for the sake of his nieces and nephew. 

As soon as he came through the door, he was overcome by a stampede of little feet and grabbing hands. Chubby arms wrapped around his legs, his hands were grasped, and his body became a playground. 

“Weans! Where are yer manners?! Say hi to Uncle Jamie!” Jenny admonished. 

“Hi, Uncle,” came the obedient responses from wee Jamie and Maggie. 

Before Jamie even had a chance to respond, he was obliterated by an innocent, well meaning question that cut him the core. 

“Uncle Jamie, where is Ms. Claire? Can she come to dinner too?” 

Jamie froze, every muscle coiled up on instinct from hearing that name. He’d tried to numb it out, tried to let himself get dragged on through life without the roadblock that was any mention of his lost love. 

Jenny knew, of course. Murtagh had told her about Claire’s “death”. Her face shown with sympathy as she watched Jamie stumble back onto the bench seat behind him. He sat down hard, pressing his hands to face, and peered down at wee Jamie. 

His voice was thick, nearly unrecognizable, when he managed to force out the following words: 

“She’s gone to live forever with the faeries.”

His eyes flicked up toward Jenny, whose face showed raw grief. She may not have liked Claire much, but hearing about her death spoken in such terms, or at least seeing Jamie like this, seemed to wreck her. 

Only somehow, speaking those words— the truth, disguised as a fairytale for children— actually freed a tiny knot in Jamie’s chest. 

Wee Jamie looked both disappointed and intrigued at the news. 

“Gone to live wi’ the faeries?” he echoed. 

“Aye,” Jamie nodded. He glanced up at Jenny again, and then back at the weans. Every thought in his head seemed to vanish, and he hadn’t decided to do anything, but his body was moving. He leaned down closer and gestured them toward him. Lowering his voice, he said, “can I tell ye a secret? If ye promise ye willna tell?” 

Both children nodded eagerly, waiting with baited breath. 

“Claire is a faerie. I found her on the faerie hill one day, and I took her in. She wasna meant to be here, you see, it was an accident. But we fell in love, and she decided to stay.” 

“But why did she go back then?” wee Jamie asked. 

Jamie swallowed hard. “She… well, she ran out of faerie dust. She needed tae go back to live with the faeries so she could have all the faerie dust she needs.” 

Tears gathered in his eyes, and he had to blink hard not to shed them. 

“I”m sorry ye lost yer faerie, Uncle Jamie,” Maggie said, reaching out her hand to rest it gently on Jamie’s knee. 

He took it in his, marveling at just how small it was. But brought him comfort, and for the first time in the past three weeks, he thought maybe he wasn’t entirely alone in the world. 

“Me too, Maggie. Me too.” 

***

a/n: One more chapter to go in arc II, and it's a big 'un. See you tomorrow and thank you so much for reading!!

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[helena-thessaloniki]

Hi Helena! Big fan of your writing here🥺♥️ Your rivamika fics are my safe space 😭 (if you have time to answer) i’d love to know when you first started shipping them, why, and what made you continue to love this ship (or anything else to do with your journey as an RM shipper)? i love your characterisation of both levi and mikasa individually, but even more so, your portrayal of their dynamic as a couple, which is why i wanted to ask so badly ☺️ x

Hey anon! Oh woah, first of all, thank you so much. Second of all, oh god, you probably shouldn't have handed me the mic. heh 😅

I’m afraid to look at the word count of this response, I’m sure it’s much more than you bargained for, but I appreciate the question and enjoyed thinking through my response (: Most importantly, I’m so glad you find my stories as a safe space. It’s really an honor. Thank you for sharing with me 🖤🖤

TL; DR As a longtime reader, writer and lover of stories and story-telling, by being someone who pays attention to how stories are crafted and deliberately developed from beginning to end, I sincerely thought Isayama was setting up rivamika as an endgame relationship. So, I read into and interpreted meaning out of ALL their interactions and became deeply invested.

I don’t necessarily ship them cause of the parallels, age gap, enemies to lover trope, height difference, or some of those common reasons and/or kinks. I’m more basic and boring than that. I love the concept of them coming together as though it’s inevitable.

They both are unbelievably strong, selfless, and have suffered so much loss— so, no one else could truly understand them as well as they can understand each other. They both probably would have always settled for a stable, simple life, and been alone and lonely even without realizing it— instead, they find each other, and realize what it means to actually no longer be alone, to do more than just survive. It’s this understated bond, as opposed to a dramatic and passionate romance, that I envision in them and that I love so much.

Then, the passion, heat, the romantic "spark"— I think that’s an added bonus, the cherry on top, the perfect final puzzle piece. They’re both so physically capable, can speak through their actions, and don’t show much need or capacity for emotional/ verbal communication, so the ability to connect with each other through physical intimacy and mind-blowing sex seems like another given.

Still, at the end of the day, for me it comes back to their ability to fully depend on each other, to the inevitability. Not like some soulmate trope where they 'have no choice' in it, but like the stars aligned to prove it's right. How each of them have only one other person on the whole planet who could see and understand them, to be on par with them, to make them realize there’s more to life than settling and surviving, and they happen to find it in each other.

You asked, I rambled 😅 Here’s a breakdown of my thought process in my rivamika journey. For those who make it to the end or want to skip to the end, I'll finish with the excerpt of the very first rivamika scene I felt compelled to to write.

I've tried before to re-watch and remember the exact scenes, exact moments, that initially captured my full attention, but I guess it was all of them, the gradual and cumulative compilation of their earliest interactions.

Mikasa always appearing cool and indifferent, and paying no attention whatsoever to others fawning over, like Jean initially falling for her, but then her strongly reacting over Levi in the courtroom showed how uniquely capable he was at getting under her skin.

Of course, the scene in the forest chasing the Female Titan was a critical one. I think of that as the first time both Levi and Mikasa were truly able to see the other's strength, mental and physical. And for them, orphans and trauma survivors who have suffered extensive loss, I think that seeing strength in another person made them feel less alone. Less alone in a deep, quiet but cataclysm, life-altering sort of way, even if not a romantic one. Like they didn't know it was something they didn't have, something they didn't expect to get from life, but then found it with each other.

(Even when we found out Levi was an Ackerman, I was disappointed if it meant they were immediate relatives, but willing to accept it wouldn't be a romantic end to loneliness, it would be a familial end to loneliness. But... the author never explored that. Not once.)

In that forest scene, manga and anime, the way that Levi pauses to really look and see Mikasa and think about who she is, what she’s gone through, and how strong and dedicated she is now— that was a defining moment. It was also a visual demonstration of Levi breaking character, from aloof and ruthless, to considering and curious. I thought Yams was showing both of them do that on purpose.

Then, Levi getting hurt because of Mikasa in that scene felt like another clue. Sure, it was while saving Eren, and sure, it could have been meant to humanize super-soldier Levi, or sure, it could have been another aspect of how Mikasa rushing into things over Eren ends up hurting other people that later changes in her character development, but it felt like a very pointed statement about Mikasa being a vulnerability for Levi. And that's swoon-worthy, right? Most of us have been exposed to and conditioned by stories about how special and romantic it is to be the one and only girl who can make an otherwise disinterested or unattainable guy actually pay attention to her, and so admittedly I fall right for it.

I’m sure I’m forgetting plenty, but the opening of season 3 felt like confirmation. When Levi figures out Kenny's behind things and entrusts Mikasa with instructions to share with the others, instructions about fighting people instead of titans that ultimately everyone else besides her struggles with, and when Mikasa lets Levi hold her back from chasing after Eren, her most important way of trusting and having faith in Levi, I honestly took that as cues from the author that rivamika was endgame. I let myself get truly invested from then on. That’s that understated bond I was referring to. To me, that unspoken but undeniable trust is the most important dynamic.

Seeing them fight together or fight similarly has always been fun and powerful and fulfilling.

I'm newer to the snk club. I was originally an anime-only fan and started watching in fall 2019, I think. I wasn't on tumblr, twitter, or anything else to see fandom discourse. So, I didn't know that the rooftop scene of Mikasa fighting Levi over the serum was such a staple for our ship until much later. I love the scene just like many do for all the reasons we do, but I don't think the actual scene was pivotal for me, so much as it's aftermath. I thought it represented two things.

One, it was an important marker in Levi's characterization. Hands-down one of the most striking scenes to me is the one where Levi is in the alley, somber and alone, listening in on Eren, Armin, and Mikasa talking together. It artfully shows his longing for hope and connection. So, when Levi chose Armin for the serum, that represented Levi choosing hope. And when Mikasa ultimately gave up fighting Levi and didn't choose Armin, which Armin finds out about later on, I see that as an important marker in Mikasa's development. It puts a wedge between her and Armin/Eren [Armin, because he knows she would have let him die, and Eren, because Armin is too special to him and he couldn't look at her the same way after realizing she would have let him die]. That distance between her and her childhood friends is one I don't think could ever be healed completely, one of those painful lessons in growing up. By doing that, it then also puts a distance in Mikasa's own childhood self to her current self. I thought that matured her and separated her out in a way that was another clue toward eventual rivamika developments.

That's a whole other conversation on Mikasa, but I’ll stay on track. Her love for Armin was absolutely authentic and fierce, but at the end of the day, at the core of her being, she chose survival over hope. Meanwhile, Levi chose hope over survival. To me, that was soft, fertile ground for the reasons why eventually, if/when Mikasa found hope and chose hope, that could directly tie together with her inevitably in coming together with Levi. Again, less butterflies and fireworks, but more natural and in a way that was just a given.

I wrote Beyond the Walls before reading the manga from the Marley Arc and on, so that's why most of that story is her journey into embracing that hope. *manga spoilers* There's a lot of meta, criticism and talk about Mikasa's silent, off-screen and subtle style of character development in the Marley Arc and afterward. I won't go down that road, I'm still processing the end of the manga to be honest, but I think it's fair to say she does eventually end up choosing hope over survival when she lets go of Eren and saves humanity instead. I love the “Stay with Me” line and think it’s perfect; a simple but profound display of trust and their deep-rooted bond in a really understated way. *end manga spoilers*

Here's something I always wanted to talk about in full but haven't. It honestly reads to me like Yams was building toward rivamika, and didn’t do anything to stop that until too late. There are tools authors can use to ensure we stop shipping a pair or start shipping a new one; love triangles are commonly used in every artistic medium and we’ve all been persuaded by these tools. But Yams didn’t use these tools to make sure readers didn’t feel convinced by rivamika. For all the reasons I listed above, more I'm forgetting, and for the following:

If he wanted us to think they were family and it would be incest, he should have added in a conversation between them realizing they were (close) family and that they weren't the only ones left in their biological family like they thought. But he didn't.

If he wanted us to think it was completely inappropriate between a child-and-adult and student-and-teacher, then he could have done something to ensure Mikasa looked childish or Levi looked older, but no. They barely look ten years apart. I do think it's unacceptable and that there's a power imbalance between a child-and-adult relationship regardless of that, and that there can't be true consent when one is a superior and another a subordinate, so I personally age-up Mikasa in my head and try to handle his position of power responsibly in my writings... but the point being, by the end of canon, there's no inappropriate or non-consensual romance between them, yet there's a lot of history and chemistry that could naturally lead to an age-appropriate and consensual relationship. If Yams didn't want us to think so, he could have made it more clear that there were reasons it wouldn't happen.

The only thing that makes sense to me is the author planned on rivamika endgame but was shamed/pressured out of it (either internally or due to others) OR that the author somehow accidentally created such vibrant chemistry and an incredible dynamic between them. Like, he didn't put enough convincing substance of eremika in, didn't make Levi look old enough, didn’t have one of them do something unforgivable in the other’s eyes, etc. Those are some of those tools he could have used. Romance was never a key component in snk. And since we now know Yams planned or needed eremika endgame for sake of plot and the conclusion of the manga, I personally think he didn't know what to do with the riveting rivamika substance and chemistry being much more convincing to readers. Once he had them so well built-up, maybe the only option he felt he had was to just stop putting the characters together. We get little-to-no rivamika interaction, platonic or practical, after season 3 all the way up until the very end. But there was so much of it beforehand ?? So, it simply doesn't make sense. I think the author just straight-up cut any and all interactions out between them because it was too convincing and moving, more convincing and substantial than eremika. But, as the end of canon shows, we needed to have some eremika buy-in. It's messy writing and unskilled in the romance department, but considering for how long and how complicated snk has been in a creative process and how lackluster the eremika romance (the main and apparently pivotal romance) is developed, I think it’s plausible to say the author effed up.

As far as writing fanfiction goes, there's just so much room to explore them. In canon, we aren't given enough insight into their individual perspectives, let alone their dynamic together, so it feels like a blank canvas to work from. I think that's part of why I love to write them, and also why I don't necessarily read much of them. When I first started shipping them while watching the anime, I read a few of the classics that were canon-verse, but I haven’t really read much since. For me, exploring and discovering them as a writer is the most fun. (It's one of the reasons Naruto and Harry Potter have such large fanfiction collections. There's so much world-building and so many characters, but there's also so much left to the imagination.)

In general, I'm drawn to strong characters, especially women, who are multidimensional enough to be real, vulnerable and soft. Mikasa is the pinnacle of that. I don’t necessarily like to write about her love or infatuation with Eren, but I do respect and admire and consider it integral to her character and her amazing capacity to love. We can have strong, kickass women who falter when it comes to love but are still considered strong for it. The two don’t have to be mutually exclusive and Mikasa is a beautiful example of that.

And Levi is strong, but real and vulnerable too; he’s honestly a fantastically developed character, from Petra explaining to Eren in the beginning how he’s not the amazing hero he’s painted to be to the public, to how Levi genuinely cares for Erwin and others and chooses hope despite all he’s suffered.

The end of the manga wrecked me a bit. Kind of like Games of Thrones. You have something that was so epic and well-done for so long, a rushed ending that isn't immediately sensical and isn't fulfilling is hard to stomach. Eventually, I'll move on from the denial of that and process what I think and feel about it. The whole reason we have fanfiction is to expand on canon, but it's made me put rivamika on the back burner until I figure it out. So I'm a little less hyper-fixated on the pairing right now even though interacting with you all and asks like this remind me what brought me here in the first place. 😊

To conclude, I’ll share that the very first rivamika content I wrote was a compilation of moments I thought could be inserted into season 3. These are still moments I plan to edit and publish one day. For anyone that actually read this far, I’ll put a rough and unedited excerpt of the first scene I ever wrote about them.

Thank you again anon 🖤😊

BEGIN EXCERPT [after the rooftop fight for the serum, immediately following the ceremony where Eren touched Historia by kissing her hand]:

Part of her was embarrassed at such a flagrant act of disobedience to a superior, especially to one who saved her and countless others' lives in the past. But mostly, she was anguished by the situation Captain Levi put her in once he revoked the serum meant to save Armin and planned to use it on Commander Erwin instead. Her current ostracization and self-loathing was not entirely her own fault. Anger she felt toward herself was just as easy to wield against him.

It must have shown in the grit of her teeth or defiant tone, because he turned to look at her, more aloof than curious.

Like a flint struck to steel, it ignited the fury she felt toward him.

“I shouldn’t have hesitated. I should have just killed you,” she answered him at last, piercing him with eyes darker than the night.

He wasn’t concerned. “You’re good, but not that good.”

Her hands fell to her side, fists clenched as she stood with a single, fluid movement. Before she could let loose a threat, he sighed.

“What’s the problem, Ackerman?” He was dismissive, his shoulders relaxed and posture loose.

The fire too furious to contain, she went sailing for him with the same speed from the battlefield. Her fingers already curled, she tightened her grasp as she swung her fist into his gods-damned apathetic face.

Levi wasn’t unprepared. He easily side-stepped her, then snatched her wrist to steal her momentum. Though he tried to toss her aside, she was no less fast; Mikasa dug her heel in and spun, her other arm shoving hard into his chest.

Too graceful to stumble, Levi used the chance to hook her second arm too. He caged both her wrists in a grip so strong, she was sure it bruised her bones. Still, he only looked at her warily, almost bored.

“Shouldn’t you be grateful? I chose Armin.” If his reminder was meant to ease her anger, it had the opposite effect.

Fury and desperation gifted her additional strength. She shoved into his chest hard. Levi shifted backward, nearly forced into loosening his grip; within that split second of an opening, Mikasa slammed her elbow into his chin, rocking his head backward.

“You did,” she seethed, but as fast as the fire inside her exploded, it was doused. Her next words came out broken and damp. “But I didn’t.”

Levi remained stern and otherwise unmoving as he attempted to flex his jaw through the spasm of pain. As the momentum of the fight died down, he loosened his hold on her wrists and evaluated her distraught frame.

Mikasa immediately released her own hands and turned away from him, eyes stinging from tears she refused to shed as she focused on the stars ahead. Admitting the harsh words aloud hurt her far more than any injury she could inflict onto him.

Not only was Armin one of the only friends she had, but he’d been a steadfast one throughout almost all she could remember of her life. After the trauma of her childhood, it was Eren and Armin who embraced her, whom she learned to love. Now, though, there was a wedge between her and Armin she was not sure could ever be removed. What was worse, as deplorable and selfish as she knew it proved her to be, was the painful wedge it now put between her and Eren too.

Once again, she found Levi standing at the peripheral of her sight, close enough to see but far enough to be a blur at the edge of her watery vision.

“You almost killed me.” Levi repeated his earlier words, but he said them with an odd bite, torn between frustration and patience. “You would have killed me to save him.”

Too late, Mikasa realized he hadn’t meant these words as an accusation, but an odd form of validation. She bit her bottom lip, teeth puncturing too hard; the tang of metal was sharp on her tongue when she swallowed blood.

“You thought about letting your closest friend die,” Levi said quietly, tiredly. “But I did let mine die. I left him for dead, when I could have saved him.”

Mikasa was startled from her selfish reverie, for the first time acknowledging the sacrifice he made on that fateful afternoon. She’d been too absorbed in her own relief, and then, her own regrets to consider what the decision had done to him.

For a brief moment, she considered turning to face him, but the stark reality of the matter made her refrain. How could she feel pity for his loss, when his loss enabled her gain? An uncomfortable knot tightened in her stomach.

“Tch,” Levi sighed. He was only one notch less taciturn, but for him, that was soft. “You’ll live with your guilt, and I’ll live with mine.”

His words granted Mikasa’s tears the permission to spill. She buried her face further into her scarf, both hands trembling at the worn threads. As quietly as he arrived onto the roof, Levi disappeared from it.

.

.

It was rare for him to indulge in alcohol or celebrations, but Erwin’s absence felt more tangible than his presence ever did. Levi distracted himself with the chaos of the few remaining Scouts that Erwin had died entrusting his legacy to, and attempted to drown the pain with whatever drink Connie Springer shoved into his hands.

He found Hanji with their ale long-forgotten about on the table as they half-stood from their seat, frantic while explaining some morbid experiment in great, vivid detail to an unsuspecting and slightly horrified MP officer.

Though Levi wordlessly took the seat beside them, Hanji paused their rant to slap him hard on the back, an enthusiastic greeting flying from their drunken lips. The MP took this chance to excuse himself, a pathetic attempt at politeness, but Hanji either didn’t care or didn’t notice.

“Ah, Levi,” they smiled at his drink, though it didn’t entirely reach their one eye. “Where you been?”

Levi didn’t answer. “You know, shitty-glasses, you’re even more unbearable about your experiments when you’re drunk.”

Hanji waved dismissively and reached for their ale. Years spent in battle and command together had gifted both of them with an eased familiarity, and sometimes, genuine friendship. In the same manner he ignored their question, Hanji ignored his lack of response and went on with their original inquiry.

“Careful, Captain,” Hanji warned lightly. “Now that there’s far fewer Scouts, you having a favorite might cause some division.”

Even though Hanji meant the words, there was a glint of mischief that twinkled in their remaining eye.

“It’s not favoritism,” Levi countered bluntly, turning his vision toward the young man on the far side of the room. “Eren is simply the best chance that we have in this war.”

Hanji laughed as if he’d made a joke and Levi looked back to stare at them, unable to be surprised at their quirks or oddities any longer, but still a touch curious about what spurned this current demonstration.

“I wasn’t talking about Eren,” Hanji said at last, a pointed nod toward his injured chin.

Levi blinked. He didn’t realize he was nursing his injury with the hand not on his drink. As though it were too hot to touch, Levi dropped his hand.

Hanji was not judgmental, nor inquisitive. In a war-torn life of losing too many cadets entrusted to him, the fact that Levi found a soldier with the strength and skill to remain safe was not only rare, but worth special attention. Still, it made him too lenient.

“Sometimes I think you’d let her get away with murder,” Hanji chided halfheartedly.

When he thought of Erwin dead in his grasp, sometimes he wasn’t sure if he already had.