#but a. I maintain they would have gotten together way sooner if not for the war they had crazy chemistry just prior to it all going to shit

[llycaons]

the fic where everyone is into bdsm and/or in a poly relationship also has lwj super experienced but also he and wwx JUST got together even though they knew each other since they were in high school which all lends itself very nicely to the sex scenes the author likes to write but I just can't really see it...I can see them having other relationships/hooking up before they become friends but after???? lwj is having crazy kinky sex without wwx for YEARS??? I just don't think he would do that

[gukisbabe]

112:45am] jeon jungkook x fem!reader, 18+ smut!!! mainly face riding

completely absolutely obsessed with jks nose can you tell?

•••

"your nose is so pretty."

you find yourself mumbling at your boyfriend before your brain can even overthink those words and yet you're glad you didn't hesitate.

there's absolutely no reaction from jungkook for a whole minute as you absentmindedly trace his sharp features with your fingers, not quite able to handle just how handsome he is.

you've been observing his side profile for a while now and every time your eyes found their way to his nose, you couldn't help but bite your bottom lip at the mental image of its tip nudging against your clit whenever he's got his face buried in your cunt.

jungkook has been playing his video game for about an hour now and despite wanting to give him some space, you simply couldn't resist the craving of being close to him.

it's not like he minds your presence at all; jungkook loves having your legs in his lap and your hand in his hair, playing with the soft beautifully blonde strands as he enjoys his daily screen time away from all of his incone responsibilities.

usually you're quick to fall asleep, yet this time you seem to focused on him to even let the actual thought of sleep cross your mind.

you know it's because you can't stop thinking about your boyfriends lips, his hot tongue and his perfect nose, your head full of thoughts about how good he makes you cum over and over again once he's gotten a taste.

whereas jungkook remains absolutely clueless. he's also a little too focused to pay complete attention to your words but he does appreciate any compliment coming from your way. ever since the two of you started dating you've made it your mission to remind him how perfect he is

jungkook places a quick kiss of gratitude into your palm before he pushes his lips into a thoughtful pout and focuses on his game again, not realising how much you've been pressing your thighs together in hopes of releasing some of the pressure on your needy cunt.

there's just something about the way he scratches the sides of his nose whenever he's slowly getting excited, poking the inside of his cheeks with his tongue and nibbling on his lip like he's purposely trying to torture you.

"j." you mumble sternly and reach for his hand, grateful he's quick to play into your neediness as he grabs your inner thigh and gently strokes your skin,

"i wanna ride your face, please."

usually you're not one to be this bold with your requests but after watching him for the past hour it's been incredibly hard for you to maintain your composure and even your patience has limits.

jungkook is absolutely stunned at your words. for a second he's not sure if he even heard you right, giving you a double take just to realise your current state.

eyes glossy, lips pushed into the cutest pout, thigh firmly pressed together and your cute nipples poking through the fabric of your pyjama shirt to the point where not a single thought is left to imagination.

just out of curiosity jungkook lets his hand wander in between your legs, gulping harshly at the way they fall apart like you've been waiting to be relieved and once his fingers graze your soaked panties, he knows exactly why you're reacting the way you do.

without even missing another beat, jungkook throws his controller as well as his headset to the side, turning his game off and almost instantly laying on his side of the bed.

"I'm sorry for not realizing sooner, baby", he whispers as you shakily make your way to straddle his handsome face, his cheeks and lips tinted in the sweetest shade of pink, "there you go, baby."

his praise elicits a soft whimper from your throat, your hole clenching in absolute despair and the second the tip of his nose grazes your flesh, you throw your head back with a loud moan of relief.

"fuck, baby", jungkook grunts against your cunt, his tongue lapping up your sweet juices and if it wasn't for his tight grip on your waist, you would have thought he passed

out, "you're so wet for me, angel, so perfect." all you can do is whimper in response, grabbing a fistful of his hair and grinding yourself against his tongue, whining every time his nose nudges your hardened clit.

"you're so wet for me, angel, so perfect."

all you can do is whimper in response, grabbing a fistful of his dark hair and grinding yourself against his tongue, whining every time his nose nudges your hardened clit.

"that's why you love my nose so much, hm?", jungkook smile turns into a smirk as he pushes his tongue inside of your clenching hole, groaning and moaning against your wet flesh like a man gone mad.

"mhm, y-yes", you whisper and feel the sweet sensation of your release climbing up your spine in the sweetest way possible, "love sitting on it."

and for a moment jungkook movements stop, as he appreciates your sweet compliment, head cloudy from all the arousal floading his brain and his cheeks burning from excitement.

"that's my good girl", he grunts and finally wraps his lips around your sensitive clit before he pushes the tip of his tongue against the nub and applies just the right amount of pressure, making sure to have you cum all over his face to make you feel as loved and appreciated as he does.

[lilacsandpetals]

Frozen Blossoms Pt. 5

Bi-Han x F! reader

Tags and notes: Arranged marriage AU, SFW, exploring emotions. Pre-MK1/MK1 AU

Last part here.

Next part here.

I hope I caught all the spelling and grammar errors.

You went back to bed after Bi-Han left. Or at least, you tried to get some sleep. You didn’t realize you’d be so worried for him in that moment. But he would be fine, wouldn’t he? He was Lin Keui after all. Still, irrational as it may be, you were concerned. Even so, the logical part of your brain told you that your husband would return sooner rather than later.

—————

Well, you were wrong. It had been days, almost a week had passed. Your anxiety was growing with each day that went by. You couldn’t comprehend how everyone else seemed at ease. You went about trying to adhere to your regular routine, but at times it was difficult to focus. Remembering simple protocols became difficult. Your execution during training lessons was lackluster. Your instructors had noticed the shift in your performance but you had a suspicion that your father-in-law prevented them from fully reprimanding you as of late.

You longed to reach out to Bi-Han and figure out how he was doing. Yet contact was minimal in order to maintain the confidential and secretive nature of the Lin Keui. The Grandmaster had stated that unless a serious incident had occurred, you were advised to not reach out to your husband. 

You considered going out, perhaps visiting your family. Yet you were advised against doing so at the moment. And to be honest, you were troubled by the idea of Bi-Han returning when you weren’t at home. 

Since when did such a thought bother you so much?

While waiting for the days to go by you realized that you hadn’t gotten to know many individuals around the clan’s grounds. You knew your in-laws. Technically you could be called acquaintances with your tutors and perhaps a few other staff and clan members. If Bi-Han was going to become the Grandmaster and you would stand by his side, you figured establishing a good rapport with as many clan members as possible would prove helpful. So you had begun to venture about the estate, greeting individuals you’ve yet to put a name to. Most would be respectful, but brief as they had responsibilities they needed to attend to, and you assumed your chatting would be a bit burdensome. 

A good number of the other clan members were married, and you had run into their spouses here and there. You didn’t mean to, but the more you spoke with some of them, you ended up working into the conversation how you were worried the longer your husband was off on a mission. They always responded with assurance, that the feeling was normal, and that it would fade the more you got used to it. But here you are, sometime later with the same tension constricting your chest to the point that you’d wake up in a panic in the middle of the night. 

If you had known that you’d have to endure such loneliness and worry regularly, would you have agreed to the marriage? Well, even if you had known, you doubt that the full gravity of the lifestyle would dawn on you back then. And frankly, denying the betrothal request would cause tension and misfortune in your family’s clan. So really, you wouldn’t have had a choice either way. 

You decide not to dwell on that too much and glance at the books at your bedside. You were quickly getting through the stack. Especially since you had only recently begun spending time with your husband, and once you two had spent proper time with one another, he was called away. Reading had then become a solace of sorts from the loneliness. Maybe you could get some new books soon? Your eyes then drift to the flowers, they were starting to wither.

Would Bi-Han get you new flowers? Would he accompany you to the market? You wonder when he’ll be back. Maybe you two could spend some time together again.

Goodness, here you go again. Since that day you spent together, you had gotten into a habit of somehow circling nearly all your thoughts back to him. What was wrong with you? Had your husband really planted a place so firmly in your heart?

In truth, he has, and his absence makes your heart ache. You feel like a forlorn, lovesick teenager. 

A sigh escapes you as you fall back onto your bed. Your hand makes its way to his pillow, snatching it from its untouched spot and into your arms. You hug it close to your chest. 

Bi-Han truly wasn’t as bad as you thought he was. You did consider him a brute at first, but your interactions slowly started to break down that constructed image you had of him. Yes, he was stern, he could be blunt, and avoidant. But he had begun to show a side of himself you found endearing. He could appear so contemplative and protective. He was always so gentle when holding your hand. You even missed his prideful banter. 

And you missed catching glimpses of his eyes. They had gone from a shade too ominous and void, to something entirely warmer. Dark and enchanting.

You took a deep breath, squeezing the pillow a little closer to you. He kissed your forehead before he left and you still linger on that action of his. You wonder if he’d kiss your cheek when he comes back. 

You ghost your fingertips over your lips. You wonder what his lips taste like. 

—————-

The mission had proved exhausting, every time they came upon a point of completion, they’d be met with more strife brewing elsewhere. To the point where Lui Kang required their consistent assistance and they had ended up all the way in Outworld, dealing with a small group whose practice in stirring up trouble had spilled into Earthrealm. Of course, Lui Kang had kept the peace during the ordeal and resolved any issues with the aid of Empress Sindel. But this wasn’t the first time that a situation like this had occurred, and he assumed it wouldn’t be the last. Pursuing consistent negotiations for the sake of peace sometimes began to feel futile to him.

On occasion, he wished they could take a more aggressive approach to assert their stance.  

Then there was the issue of brewing tensions between surrounding clans, disagreements amongst them, and some disdain still lingered over his marriage to you. Of course, he hadn't brought that up to you, nor does he intend to. There would be no reason to stress you out over matters he could quickly stomp out on his own. 

Despite all these occurrences, and his outward dedication to addressing them, these neverending missions had been dethroned at the forefront of his mind more often than he was willing to admit. You had been running through his mind all week. The thought of you had been distracting him and while he was on a mission no less. 

Detestable of him really.

Had this happened weeks ago he would want to return home to wring your neck for causing him to lose focus. But it was different now. 

He found it enjoyable to think of you. 

It gave him something to look forward to. Someone to return home to. 

He wondered if you had eaten properly, if you had rested enough, had you kept up with your training? 

Did you miss him?… he missed you. He missed your playfulness, he missed your gentleness, he missed how increasingly lovely you had looked before he left. He felt as if he had grown closer to you before his departure. Would he be able to pick up where he left off with you? 

He hopes so. 

So as the group makes their way back under his lead, he can't help but find himself pondering. He wonders what would’ve happened that night if he didn’t have to leave. For the first time in a long time, he wishes he hadn’t left at all. 

He wonders if you realized how enticing you looked. With eyes looking up at him so innocently at the veranda, and lips that looked oh so soft. Or when you had laid down in the bed. Did you not realize how effortlessly alluring you looked? Your hair tousled, your nightgown bunching up at the curve of your hips and exposing part of your thigh. He really can only imagine what else could have happened that night if he had been more forward. It’s laughable that the only time he is unable to advance forward is when it comes to you. 

Consummating the marriage had still been a thought that seldom crossed his mind, but now it had started to creep up frequently. Oddly enough, had you two made use of the marriage bed that first night, he would’ve found it easier to complete that responsibility. He would be detached, acting upon crude necessity. 

Again, it was different now. 

Now there were emotions that entangled him. Concerns on whether his performance would live up to your unknown expectations. Worries about how you’d respond to his touch. Perturbation on how it would change him. It was all uncharted territory. 

He didn’t have an extensive insight into matters of that kind. His experience in that area was somewhat lacking. 

He honestly never gave it much thought, he was always too focused on his responsibilities and any tasks at hand to be caught up in lust to the extent of seeking it out at the risk of his honor. Had he struggled at all in the past, he’d take care of it himself. That is how he went about it as an adult.

His responsibilities within the Lin Keui came first, as they always have. Or at least he would attempt to adhere to that standard. He found himself faltering to maintain that status quo when he was young. 

Although discouraged, it was known that sometimes members of the Lin Keui would sneak off to a nearby brothel and ‘fulfill their needs’. When he was younger, curiosity had gotten the best of him and his brothers, leading them to sneak off just to see what all the excitement was about. They had just barely infiltrated the establishment through a side entrance when they were promptly caught, kicked out, and sent home to a furious father who had punished them all severely. 

Other than that, there was a point long ago where Kuai Liang had convinced him to sneak out and meet a few girls during the Qixi Festival. Kuai Liang had an easier time interacting with them, while he himself was more reserved. And then Tomas had tagged along. Tomas appeared much younger at the time compared to Kuai Liang and himself, so the girls found him ‘adorable’ as they had put it. He didn’t see the point in entertaining them at that time. One of the girls there did take a liking to him, she looked visually pleasing. She kept trying to hold his attention but he barely kept up conversation as chatter spewed out of her mouth in an attempt to keep him engaged. She even kissed him at the end of the night. It felt awkward and she had secured a strong hold on his neck, he hesitated to place his hands on her but kissed back as best as he knew how. However, he pulled away when he felt her tongue poke at his lips. He attempted to maintain his composure until they departed that evening. On his way home with his brothers, he frequently wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. All those love stories his mother and Kuai Liang would go on about made it seem like a first kiss was a life-changing experience. They were clearly wrong as that had not changed his life for the better. Kuai Liang teased him, saying that he was better with the girls, meanwhile, Tomas lamented that he hadn’t gotten any such tokens of affection. 

Now that was all the experience he had recalled. It made him wonder what your past was like. He tries not to think of it, but the thought that you may have had romantic interactions in the past made him burn with envy. 

If you had past lovers, he would make sure to surpass them in every manner.

—————-

Kuai Liang and Tomas know their brother. He is cold and harsh in nature, much like the power he was blessed with. But they are quick to catch Bi-Han smiling to himself when he thinks no one is watching. 

—————-

They stop at a village on the trek home. Bi-Han is not such a cruel leader that he’d push his forces so far when the mission has already been completed. He allows them an opportunity to catch their breath. The stop is brief and he rests against the brick wall of a building. His eyes scan his surroundings when they come to a halt. Kuai Liang and Tomas seem preoccupied. He cannot tell what they are speaking about, so he makes his way to them.

“What about that one?” Tomas says.

“No, I’ve already bought this one. This suits her best.” Kuai Liang responds. 

Bi-Han furrows his eyebrows, who were they speaking about? “What did you buy?” 

Kuai Liang smiles and holds up a golden hairpin, “the red jewel at the center reminds me of Harumi, fierce and passionate, I’m sure she’ll like it.” 

Tomas smiles “Always the romantic.”

Bi-Han eyes the gift briefly. Was he supposed to get you something as well? What color did you even like? He regrets not asking you before. 

There’s a slight shame that emerges within him, he has failed to get to know you well within these past weeks. He will have to atone for his shortcomings. 

So he slips away; just briefly to examine whatever the shop has to offer. His eyes travel over the array of pieces, trailing over them all until he sees a simple silver chain harboring a blue jewel in its center. Blue was his choice of color, but it simultaneously reminded you of him, calm and sincere.

Before he knows it, he’s made the purchase and he continues on his way. 

—————-

The sun has begun its descent and the moon begins to rise in its place. And so another day has passed without your husband. Or so you had thought. You had returned to your room after a meal. Rummaging through your belongings to pull out a woven shawl. The seasons have begun to shift and so the once manageable cold of the locale has become quite unbearable. You finally locate one suitable to your needs and toss it onto your bed. Now if you could only find warmer nightwear. 

“Wife.”

The sound startles you and you quickly stand to your feet. When had he returned? You weren’t expecting him at this moment. You finally get a good look at him as he stands in the doorway. He is handsome as always. His mask is off, and he appears stoic. Yet you catch a look in his eyes that comes off as a mix of weary and longing. You want to hug him, should you? Would he reciprocate it? You don’t know. So you fail to move forward and instead shoot him a small smile, “Bi-Han, I’m glad you’re home.”

“As am I.”

His body is crying out in exhaustion, all he wants to do is unwind, but the eagerness to show you his gift takes precedence over that. His hand searches through his pocket to pull out a silver chain adorned with a gem of sapphire. He motions for you to come to the front of the mirror and you oblige. “Try this on.” He carefully places the necklace in your hands and you attempt to get it on, but the hook is giving you trouble. Your husband waits but a few moments before taking the two ends of the necklace within his fingers. You slide your hair to the side, so he’s better able to hook the chain. His fingers are cold against your warm skin and he leans in slightly, making his breath tickle the back of your neck. Your shoulders slightly tense. When the necklace is secure his hands move to rest by the crook of your neck, looking at your reflection in the mirror. He’s never touched you there before.

The shade of blue suits you. You hold the jewel between your thumb and index finger briefly, smiling at your reflection. It rested just at the valley between your breasts. The way your chest rose and fell as you breathed only exuded a greater sense of allure to him. You were focused on the necklace, so much so that you were caught off guard when he bent down and quickly placed a kiss on the side of your neck. “You look good,” he mumbled just barely above a whisper. He quickly turns around and makes his way out the door. You would go after him but you felt frozen in place, your cheeks heating up, and your heart beating hard. 

——————

He didn’t even mean to do that. But your skin felt so soft, your fragrance hinted at scents of lotuses and lilies. The dim lighting illuminated your exposed skin in such a way that it ignited something within him, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to fully act on it. 

So he flees the scene and pushes away any thoughts of embarrassment. His body is used to brutal conditions, but even he longs for undisturbed relaxation on rare occasions. Despite his cryomancy, he is keen on a hot bath. The warm water is soothing to his aching muscles and welcoming to his pains. He lets out a long sigh and closes his eyes. He hopes you like the necklace, it’s not much but it is something. He hasn’t had the desire to shower anyone with gifts before, but you may be slowly changing his mind. 

The sound of a hesitant knock pulls him out of his state of relaxation. He snaps his head towards the private bathhouse's entrance. You stand there tentatively in the doorway. “What are you doing here? Go back to your room, now,” he scolds.

The steam emanating from the hot water twirls around the room, keeping the image of one another rather obscured. 

“You didn’t close the door all the way and I heard the water running,” you say sheepishly. “I was going to ask if you wanted help. I can tell you’re tired.” You just wanted to be around him, he left quickly, and he took longer than you anticipated to return. You yearned to satiate your loneliness. 

He was tired, but he wouldn’t say it. “How would you even help me?”

“I can wash your hair,” you respond and lean up against the frame of the entrance. You hope he accepts your offer. 

Bi-Han contemplates it for a moment, he supposes it would save him the hassle… and he did long for your presence. “Fine, you may enter, but watch your eyes.” You stifle a laugh as you walk forward. “What do you find so amusing?” he asks with an annoyed expression. “Nothing, nothing.” He had no reason to worry, you wouldn’t peak. You pull up a chair and sit behind him. “Lean back a bit, please.” He heeds your request and you begin massaging his scalp with the needed products.

Now this was relaxing. He did feel rather self-conscious earlier. He was taking a bath so he was entirely exposed, but that worry melted away as your hands worked what he might equate to magic. They were slow and methodical, releasing the tension that constricted his skull. And so he finds himself serene enough to close his eyes once more.  

You’re close to him again, this is probably the longest that you’ve seen him with his hair down. “You look good with your hair down,” you say softly. “Oh, do I?” he responds just above a whisper. You exhale lightly, “you do.” You continue in silence, for how long, you wouldn't know. 

But you do know that you appreciate every second of it. For once, you finally feel at ease. You’ve once again reached that brief moment of domestic bliss. 

You run your fingers through his hair, it’s softer than you thought it’d be. 

Your eyes trail down the sight of his neck and upper back. Scars riddle the skin that is visible to you, some more faint than others. You assume they were obtained in training and battle. In moments like these, the full weight of Lin Keui’s ways bear down on you. There is honor to it, but at a greater cost to oneself. And you know it’s his duty, it’s the way of the clan you married into, yet your heart clenches at the thought of it. 

The scars that adorn his body are many and you can’t help but lean forward to press your fingertips along one. The scar is extensive, nearly a clear cut minus a few jagged edges. Your fingertips graze along the expanse of the mark and you swear you feel him shudder against your touch. 

“Do any of these still hurt?”

“No, none of them.”

“They must have hurt when you got them.”

“Yes, but I am grateful for it.”

You don’t respond, being grateful to retain such pain bewilders you. Bi-Han notices your lack of response. “It taught me discipline and is proof that I’ve survived prior ordeals. That is all.”

You take that as a note not to continue with further questions, at least for now. Your eyes fall to his bicep, “Your wound from last time is healing.” He opens his eyes briefly to glance at his arm before closing them again. “I appreciate your aid that night.” You smile slightly to yourself.

“Lean forward.” Bi-Han obliges and you get a basin of water to wash his hair. His eyes remain closed as you gently pour it on him. His wet hair sticks to the front of his face, obscuring his eyes. The image of such an intimidating man in front of you like this, causes you to let out a laugh.

He moves his hair out from in front of his eyes. He’s about to snap at you and ask what you’re laughing about. Yet he retains a moment of pause. You’re laughing, and it’s the carefree laugh that he’s been yearning for since you two had married. The one you had so openly shared with others. You’ve finally graced him with the pleasure of hearing it on his own. So he doesn’t stop you, instead, he takes hold of your hand and brings your fingertips to his lips. He presses a chaste kiss to them before letting go. 

“Thank you.” He leans forward, crossing his arms and resting against the edge of the tub. 

You smile faintly and sit on the rim of the bathtub. You’re slightly anxious, but work up the courage to hastily move his hair to the side and press a kiss to his forehead in a rather bashful manner. “Thank you for spending time with me.” 

You see his mouth twitch into a smile for a brief second, and you are content. 

The room begins to become even more humid. 

But something is holding you back from leaving, tension has building up in the pit of your stomach and it’s causing your heart to tremble within your chest. So you remain there, inches away from him. 

Your perfume makes him feel dizzy with increasing desire. The world around him begins to fade into silence, and the only thing that he can hear is your shallow breathing. 

Your breath mingles with his. 

And neither one knows who leaned in first.

But his hand rests on the back of your neck and your lips have collided with his. They are rough, tasting like the tea you once shared with him. 

And you’ve never kissed anyone like this before. 

Desperation and longing seep into the way your mouths move against each other. His heart has begun to pound against his ribcage and he wonders if yours has too. Your lips are softer than he could have ever anticipated, and the moment they break away from his, he silently mourns. 

Heat has risen to your cheeks and you look away briefly, smiling to yourself and slowly getting up. “Goodnight Bi-Han.”

He takes a shaky breath. How unlike him. What have you done to him?

 “Goodnight, Y/N.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Thanks for reading 💙

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[emmettkane]

September Update!

Salutations, you heartless monsters! (affectionate)

I’ve been a busy little bee this past month, drawing, organizing projects, and getting back to classes! Ghost Bricks is available (plus a free demo!), I’ve acquired a mascot of sorts, and new ideas are breaking down my door at an even faster rate!

Ghost Bricks Is Live! You heard that right, Ghost Bricks is done after two chaotic years, one move, a change in career, and a million joys and heartaches! You can get the whole thing at all of These places or in the Ko-fi shop! There’s even a Free Demo to read if you’re on the fence!

I may have fallen in love with this story a long time ago, but give it a read and let me know what you think in the comments here or on my socials~

Meet Widget! I live in an unspecified post-soviet bunker network! It has wi-fi, electric, and mostly-functional plumbing, which would be miraculous if I just found the place like that, but bunkers don’t maintain themselves, goblins do!

Meet Widget:

She was just down here, and she keeps the place from falling apart, lucky me! Unfortunately, it’s a lot of work and the two of us aren’t always enough. If you’re interested in helping keep the place together, consider joining the ranks of the Bunker Goblins.

Not only does the contribution help me out, but you’ll be allowed to vote in a monthly poll to decide what I write an essay about in addition to my usual productions!

GREED

I’ve got another project in the works, a foray into the realm of graphic novels! It’ll be western, it’ll be cowboy, there might even be some characters or a story! It's very preliminary right now, but stay tuned for updates as I get started on development for that!

Ghost Bricks Volume 2?

No ETA on that, but it will be sooner if there's more interest in it. Probably a year or two regardless! I've got a lot plates in the air right now 😔

Lost And Found

The rest of my business this month was a hodgpodge! Team BWEE (my group) came in fourth in the Cafe Dot Birthday Gamejam, the TTRPGS I play in have really started heating up, I’ve gotten more interested in writing essays, and I’m going back to college!

That’s a lot, and it’s only getting busier! Either way, give me a follow for more updates and feel free to ask me questions via my ask-box ^^

See you next month!

[hellsbeenbettersincehesplit]

A oneshot character study of Husk based on one line from the pilot, focusing on if he were arospec. Cross-posted on here under the cut!

i lost the ability to love years ago

In life, Husk had only felt anything that could lead to a romance twice.

The first was when he was young and foolish. He’d had a few close friends. It began with lust, attraction, fascination. He caught himself staring, wondering over card games. He began fantasizing about a future the two would spend together. He’d done so many things he hadn’t cared for just to spend more time together. Looking back, he’d sometimes chuckle at how much money he’d lost- he could never keep his poker face.

He’d considered asking his friend out. He’d been ready to make a move, but life got in the way. The two drifted apart. Eventually, Husk’s feelings faded.

For a long time, he thought he’d blown his only chance. Sure, soulmates were a corny thing to believe in- but he hadn’t felt anything like that again for so long after that. What other conclusion was he supposed to draw?

The second time was for the woman he would one day marry. He worked in his family’s casino; she was a showgirl. He’d do magic tricks of one kind and she’d do another, and they’d both get the money off of someone or other. The two would meet up for drinks after their shifts every now and then. It started with physical attraction- she was gorgeous, who wouldn’t admire her? As time went on, and as he got to know her, he admired her sarcastic sense of humor, her jaded attitude, her creativity, her wit, even her ability to match him drink for drink.

He pursued her the conventional way. They’d gotten married in the deserts, because they didn’t want a Vegas wedding- what happened in Vegas stayed in Vegas, and as objectively false as the saying was, the location choice was about the sentiment- he wanted them to be a pair everywhere, forever. He’d briefly tried to become a stage magician, and while the career didn’t pan out, she had a genuine admiration for his skill. He’d eventually settled in Vegas and the two ran the casino together. They had a child, and it dawned on Husk one day that somehow, he’d ended up with a perfectly conventional life despite being a casino owner in Vegas.

Romance always struck Husk as odd. The idea of love at first sight was so popular, but Husk had always understood a difference between lust and romantic potential, and the latter never had anything to do with what he found at first sight. His friends would all laugh and call him a cynical bastard, and eventually, that’s how he saw himself. The same as everyone else, just a bit cynical about the whole romance thing.

She’d died of illness. It was a slow death, and she deserved better. He never remarried. He’d just maintained the casino his family had left him with his child and grew his wealth. He died of liver failure as an old man. It had been a miracle that it hadn’t happened sooner.

When he never found her, he knew in his gut that his wife had gone to Heaven. He was glad. As the years passed, Husk realized that his kid had also gone to heaven, whenever they’d died. Husk himself had gone to Hell. This wasn’t a surprise- he’d spent his life scamming people out of their money to accumulate his own wealth. He missed those two like they were a beating heart that’d been ripped from his chest, but more than that, he was relieved that the two most important people to him hadn’t gone where he did.

He opened up a new casino in Hell. It was scarily successful- so many souls were willing to gamble it all. On some level, he could understand why- they were in Hell. They didn’t exactly have much left to lose. He hadn’t even intended to become an overlord, but people kept betting them when they’d ran low on cash, and it was shockingly easy to just write a few clauses that the souls they gained at the casino would go back to Husk. The more souls he had, the bigger the casino got. The bigger the casino got, the more desperate sinners flooded in, ready and willing to bet even their soul for a chance of winning it big. The more power he amassed, the more he wanted more. The more he wanted, the more risks he’d take to get it. At some point, because he’d been on such a lucky streak, he began to view himself as untouchable.

Every demon knows that there are seven rings in Hell for the seven deadly sins. Pride, wrath, greed, lust, envy, sloth, and gluttony. In the end, it could’ve been greed, gluttony, or pride that was Husk’s downfall.

In the end, it didn’t actually matter which of the three it was.

He’d gambled. He’d lost. He’d bet his souls. He’d lost those too. He ran out of things to bet, and bet his soul. He’d never imagine he’d lose this badly. He should’ve cut his losses early on. He lost his soul and everything he’d built the entire time that he’d been in this pit.

The irony wasn’t lost on him that his downfall was the same way he’d screwed over so many sinners. It wouldn’t surprise him if that’s why the radio demon chose this specific method of taking down another overlord.

He quickly found himself as the radio demon’s favorite pet, as much as Husk despised it when he would use that term. The overlord thought flaunting the fact that he owned husk was fun in some sick kind of way. Husk found himself constantly needing a drink to cope with where his afterlife had gone- a habit that the radio demon picked up on. Suddenly, Husk was always around alcohol, always growing more dependent, always looking for the solutions to his problems at the bottom of a bottle.

He sometimes wondered if losing his soul meant he’d lost his ability to love. Sure, it was always rare. Probably rarer than any of his friends in life had felt such things, but everyone was different. Still, one day it had finally occurred to Husk that he hadn’t felt any kind of romantic attraction in decades. Just one more thing Alastor had taken from him. He chose to ignore that he hadn’t felt anything like that before he lost his soul. Plenty of souls down here were in relationships. Clearly, Husk wouldn’t have lost his capacity for romance when he died, so he must have lost it in that game of poker. Overlords affected the souls they owned in ways that were hard to understand at times, it wasn’t beyond reason to assume this could be a side effect.

Husk’s gambling only got worse after he gambled away his soul. He was the misguided soul with nothing to lose. Being at rock bottom meant he had everything to gain. His skill with poker hadn’t dissipated, and he’d make enough money to buy himself something nice every now and then.

The radio demon hated it when Husk was on a winning streak. Every time he’d start to get back a little bit of what he used to have, it’d all be lost again. The radio demon was always there, ready to remind Husk of his place.

If he ever wrote a memoir, he’d call it Husk: The Modern Sisyphus.

One day, the radio demon just. Disappeared. He stopped calling Husk, stopped having Husk do odd jobs, stopped being in Husk’s life. He could still feel the heavy, cold weight of the green chain around his neck, weighing down his every step. Husk still couldn’t go back to his old power. But the sinner who’d given those orders had vanished. It hadn’t taken him very long to figure out that Alastor had made a deal of some sort, and probably had to stay away for some reason or another.

Husk had started doing his stage magic again- it felt a little ridiculous in a place with actual magic, but his old heart still had a passion for these silly tricks.

Of course, the radio demon didn’t stay gone. Nothing good that happened to Husk could be permanent, not in Hell. In the blink of an eye, after seven years of peace, he was whipped from his latest game of poker and stuck bartending for some failing hotel. That was where he’d met Angel Dust.

Husk was attracted to the man. Of course he was. But Husk had never been one to think with his dick over his brain, and his brain told him that the spider was just a glitter and show with no proof of substance underneath. Husk didn’t let himself get flustered by the flirting. He had a perfect poker face, it was easy for him to identify someone else’s mask.

Husk thought Angel Dust was attractive. More than that, Husk thought Angel Dust was annoying. Until Husk finally got him to open up. Suddenly, it was like Angel was a prism that had just been exposed to sunlight, and Husk was seeing the hidden beauty that’d before been just out of reach.

Husk had thought selling his soul had cost him his ability to love, until a third person finally awoke those dormant romantic feelings in his heart. If he’d known about modern day labels, he likely would’ve identified as somewhere on the aromantic spectrum. Instead, he'd just accepted romantic attraction as something rare, and Husk moved on with his miserable afterlife.

[silversimp]

Aot ABC's

Eren Jaeger as Your Boyfriend

Some nsfw minors dni

I've been wanting to do some ABC's for aot for a while nowww

A is for attention: Eren thrives on getting your attention, he will literally pout and throw tantrums if you spend more time on your phone than with him. He's always trying to cuddle you when you're sitting together.

B is for backbreaking: Eren is an intense lover, hopefully you can keep up with his stamina in bed..

C is for childish: Eren has a tendency to pout when he doesn't get his way. Though his childishness isn't necessarily always a negative quality, he likes taking you out on dates to arcades and making pillow forts on rainy days.

D is for determined: Eren is constantly trying to show you just how much you mean to him. He's determined to be the best boyfriend you've ever had (and the last).

E is for experimental: Eren loves trying new things with you. Whether it's a new place to get dinner or a sex position he's never had you in before. Sometimes the new stuff he tries is a flop, but he's always happy to have at least tried something he never had before. Especially with you.

F is for family: to Eren family is very important, he was quick to introduce you to his family and was determined to make the best impression for yours. He obviously wants to get married sooner rather than later and have a handful of children.

G is for goosebumps: something Eren finds very fun to give you. Teasing you with soft whispers and gentle touches over your skin until you're covered in goosebumps.

H is for handwriting: this man has terrible penmanship. He writes grocery lists and then neither of you can read them when you're out shopping.

I is for immaturity: Eren is very impulsive and quick to anger when things don't go his way. He's not great at taking responsibility for his actions when he messes up, but for you he's trying to work on it. Though sometimes his immaturity leads to arguments, it's also led to some fun and ridiculous moments.

J is for juice: Eren refers to his cum as juice and when he wants a blow job he thinks it's funny to ask if you're thirsty for his juice.

K is for kissing: Eren loves kissing you, on the lips, face, neck, your whole body even. He loves starting with your lips, making out for awhile before kissing down your body. His favorite spot to kiss (not including your lips) is your thighs.

L is for lazy: there's nothing Eren loves more than a lazy day with you. His days off he wants to spend lounging around the house with you. His favorite lazy day is laying on the couch in his boxers with you in his arms, there's a movie playing but he's more focused on kissing you.

M is for moaning: Eren is unashamedly loud during sex. Loud, gutteral, raspy moans against the back of your neck as he thoroughly enjoys fucking you. He's loud enough that you've gotten complaints from your neighbors.

N is for needy: Eren is always in need of your attention and you in general. He's got a high sex drive and when he's done he needs to cuddle. He understands that sometimes you need space, but he will complain if you're spending less time with him.

O is for offline: Eren doesn't really use social media, he has accounts but only posts maybe twice a year at best. He doesn't like going out when everyone is on their phones. He would still have a flip phone if he could. The only thing he does on his phone everyday, without fail, is maintain your snap streak.

P is for pregnancy: Eren swears up and down he doesn't have a breeding kink (he does) but he often exclaims he's going to get you pregnant when he cums inside you (whether you can get pregnant or not).

Q is for quaint: Eren loves the idea of sharing a simple and quaint life with you. His perfect future is a nice cozy house in the woods with you and your eventual children.

R is for royalty: Eren treats you like royalty, he refers to you as his Queen/King in a very teasing manor. Sometimes when you ask him to do something for you, like simple tasks around the house, he'll get on one knee and say "yes, anything for you my liege" it makes him laugh more than it makes you laugh.

S is for sweetheart: his go to pet name for you. He also uses sweetie and my love.

T is for toothpaste: Eren hates when his mouth feels or tastes dirty. He brushes his teeth three times a day. Every time you kiss he tastes like minty toothpaste. He uses Tom's wintermint.

U is for underwear: Eren hates briefs, he only wears boxers. He likes them nice and loose as well. He hates feeling like his dick and balls are being crushed, at least that is how he explains the feeling of wearing briefs.

V is for vows: Eren has been working on his vows for your wedding since your first date. He has a notebook he keeps in his nightstand that he writes drafts of them in all the time. He gets really upset when you touch it, he doesn't want you to hear any of it until your wedding day.

W is for wrestle: Eren loves play wrestling with you, it pretty much always ends in him pinning you down and covering you with kisses. Sometimes he lets you win though, he doesn't mind having you on top of him.

X is for xeric: Eren has a love for cactuses, he has several of his own. He also loves when things have cactuses on them, such as his favorite mug. He loves saguaro flowers especially the smell of them.

Y is for yearly: he loves celebrating the anniversary of things. From the anniversary of you dating, the anniversary of you moving in together, to the anniversary of the first time you went to the grocery store together. Eren loves having his calendar full of events with you.

Z is for zest: Eren loves citrus, the flavor and the smell. He uses Hemps sweet and zesty lotion when he gets out of the shower. He eats an orange almost everyday and his favorite way to have chicken is baked with lemon and pepper.

[enchanted-lightning-aes]

Woodsy Stake-Out

[ID: a green badge of a stack of folders with text that reads ‘Sambucky Summer Camp Bingo, Mission Fic, ESTD. 2023 / finish ID]

Title: Woodsy Stake-Out

Square Filled: Mission Fic

A/N: a ficlet of a couple of guys planning a stake-out in a car for @sambuckylibrary. where sam and bucky arrive to a serpent society hide-out in the woods. thanks to the ppl who provided suggestions and inputs in this (x). however, i had to choose a specific idea and rolled with it. ^^

Word Count: 945

T.W: food, i guess

***

Owls hooted as crickets chirp at the expanse of a forest. The wheels of a car skidded onto a route, only stooping to a halt. Parking some miles away from a guarded electric fenced gates ahead.

"Well, well, they probably expected company," Bucky remarked, unbuckling his seatbelt.

"Operating in the woods must be their new way to maintain a low profile." Sam shifted in his seat, propping an elbow against the window's edge. "No wonder we couldn't track them down in the city. If it wasn't for Joaquin, we'd be sitting ducks."

Bucky nodded, grimacing. "And if we don't get their weapons soon, they'd take down the city."

"Breaking into tech companies and labs, stealing the components they need." Sam crossed his arms, shaking his head. "Shit. I hate how we couldn't get the drop on them sooner."

Despite himself, he made an affirmative little noise.

Bucky narrowed his eyes, examining the building from afar. Getting glimpses of some hench-people moving crates and packages over the field.

The Serpent Society has set up a base in the woods. Developing weaponry that could take down an entire city to the ground. Especially since it contained parts from alien tech, which could be dangerous used by people with wrong intentions.

Bad news all around.

Fury had paged them and called them for this mission. Giving information as much as he could obtain. They needed to be outside their base, observe them from afar before taking action. And they needed extreme caution, considering how Viper was a clever sort of adversary.

If they weren't having a mission, they would be helping Sarah with the boat. However, duty called and they had to delay repairs.

"So, we're doing a stake-out in this car?" Bucky asked, wiping his knife blade with a thin cloth.

Sam nodded, drumming his fingers along the steering wheel. "Yeah, we're gonna be here for a couple of hours.

Great, Bucky thought, his pulse kicking up a notch. Leaning back on his seat.

What had he gotten himself into? Even though, he willingly signed up for it? He had believed they would kick some Serpent Society ass and be on their way. Mission accomplished and all that jazz. However, he had to do a stake-out instead.

Not his usual brand of missions.

And with Sam? Including being. . . Alone? With him, specifically? Fury must have paired them together to torture him in the most twisted yet sweet way possible.

It didn't help that Sam's arm rested by the brakes, just some inches further from his.

He could do worse than Sam. . . He might have been stuck with Torres, who would have chatted throughout the entire thing. Or Scott Lang, who would have did some weird diversions.

Yeah. Bucky could have had worse options, getting spared from it. But he couldn't help how his heart insisted in 'thump', 'thump', 'thump' at the minimal. . . space between them. A little too close just for a couple of guys.

Being cramped in this small space in this car. . . wouldn't bode well for his psyche.

However, if he could jump from an airplane without a parachute and survive, he could also survive this. With his composure and dignity intact.

If there was one thing Bucky was still good at, it would be keeping it cool. He did it back in the forties. And he could defuse his feeling of awkwardness with some quips up his sleeve.

"And I thought the bad guys would find better lairs or something."

"Yeah, I guess they couldn't afford it."

"Wow, that's lousy."

"Tell me about it. But they have good enough security to keep us out."

"A smoke screen ought to knock 'em out, right?"

". . . wait, you brought some?"

"Of course, Samuel. Gotta be prepared for Hydra affiliated scums, ya know."

"Touché. I've also got some snacks in here."

When Sam pushed his seat back, he yanked a backpack beneath it. Zipping it open and revealing packets of chips, cupcakes, and soda cans. He reached for a soda and popped it's cap open.

"Thank you," Bucky murmured, sighing deeply. "If we're gonna punch those assholes, we need all the energy we can get."

"True that," Sam replied, his lips quirking up at a corner. "I wished I'd sleep better before we left. I feel like my bones are gonna sink."

He tensed up and arched a brow. "What the. . . You didn't sleep well? That explains why you look exhausted."

"Uh huh." Sam sounded resigned. He shrugged. "Got a job to do, anyways. Sleep can wait."

"Hold on, I'm gonna go in there. And while you stay here."

"What? No! We're supposed to do this as a team."

"I know, I know. But you don't have enough energy and I do. I can destabilize those weapons before the Serpent Society could level them at the city."

"This sounds like a terrible idea."

"Pfft, as if most of them didn't work."

Bucky patted Sam's shoulder, peering into his dark brown eyes soft from concern. Sam's tight posture loosened and he sagged against his seat, nodding slowly.

"Alright. But be careful, Buck."

"Hey, I'll be back in a while. You'll see."

Sam chuckled, his expression fond. Bucky reveled in it, reaching for his door's handle.

As he pushed the door open, he started marching towards the trunk. Opening it and grabbing a duffle bag, which contained his gadgets and trusty equipment. Slamming it shut as he carried it.

With this plan, Bucky could finish this mission within an hour or so. He should probably have back-up, however, he probably could deal with it. Without much trouble.

***

[kenwarps]

introducing 🥁🥁🥁

SERENE DRAGNEEL 🤗

—> this is my fairy tail oc i’ve been working on for the past two months, so i hope y’all enjoy her and her story!!!

—> Mircalla nickname explanation:

Carmilla is an 1872 Gothic Novella by Irish author Sheridan Le Fanu and one of the earliest works of vampire fiction, predating Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1897) by 25 years. … The story is narrated by a young woman preyed upon by a female vampire named Carmilla, who is later revealed to be Mircalla, Countess Karnstein. The character is a prototypical example of the lesbian vampire, expressing romantic desire towards the protagonist.

LORE!!

Serene was conceived 400 odd years ago, but only her mother knew she was pregnant. She was supposed to die along side her parents and Natsu following the dragon attack, but her mother used what little magic she had left to encase Serene with magic until she was found by a wandering Dragon Slayer. While Zeref spent his time trying to resurrect Natsu, a certain Dragon Slayer and Celestial Mage were trying to break the spell that encased Serene. a few years later. (At this point, Acnologia was a fresh Dragon Slayer, therefore wasn’t consumed by vengeance, yet.)

Natsu and Serene were “reborn” roughly around the same time.

Serene’s birthday is June 21, X372, making her birthday Summer Solstice, as well as her being 5 during the 400 Year Project.

Anna Heartfilia became the prime guardian of Serene, and taught her Devil Slayer Magic using books Zeref had given her (unbeknownst what the purpose was for).

The Dragneel Siblings were originally 7 years apart until stuff happened. (Zeref was cursed at 19, Natsu turned 12 the day of the 400 Year Project, and Serene was 5.)

After the 7 year gap, the Dragneels are all roughly the same age physically, with Zeref maintaining his 19 y/o appearance, Natsu being stuck in time at 18y/o, and Serene aging naturally during that time. Both Natsu and Serene turned 19 following Team Tenrou’s return early March X791.

Serene joined Fairy Tail two years after Team Tenrou went missing. Her guild mates were unsure of what her magic was, even after dueling with her.

She was allowed to go on S-Class Quests, which rewards went to funding the search for their missing members.

She kept to herself most of the time. She feared her magic and the fact she used to be a mage for hire, regardless of the job, would isolate her from the guild, so she isolated herself before she could be cast out. She became less reserved when Team Tenrou returned, but still lurked and didn’t talk much.

She met Master Makarov after he heard Macao was allowing someone to take S-Class Quests while they were away. They had a discussion and Serene was no longer allowed to go on these quests alone.

However, prior to Team Tenrou’s return, Serene had gotten the approval to go on the 10 Year Quest and was preparing to depart. Makarov allowed her to continue her quest. (This is what she was doing during the Grand Magic Games Arc and most of the Tartaros Arc.)

She returns from her quest, successful, near the end of the Tartaros Arc. She claims the quest wasn’t the real 10 years quest, and that the client only said it would take 10 years in hopes that someone would take the false challenge.

When the guild disbanded, she formed a partnership with Gildarts to finish the remaining quests on the quest board. They wrapped up their quests in roughly three months. While together, Serene opened up to Gildarts about her relationship with Natsu. They have a heartfelt conversation, mainly Gildarts telling her to not wait too long as he wishes Cana told him sooner that he was her father. Shortly after, they run into Natsu before all going separate ways.

A few months later, Serene runs into two Avatar members: Mary and Gray Fullbuster. Mary and Serene fight with Serene coming out the victor. Gray doesn’t recognize her, but her does recognize her—their—guild mark, indicating she was a member prior to the guild disbanding. Serene throws some insults Gray’s way before walking away.

She entered the war against Alavarez following Irene’s casting of Universe One.

She briefly fights against Larcade. He uses his starvation spell against her, but that only results in her taking a chomp out of him. He flees to go rescue Dimaria.

Serene then heads over to the guild hall, where she’s found watching Natsu and Zeref fight as she “finds it entertaining.”

During the peak of their fight, Serene accidentally lets it slip that Natsu and Zeref are her brothers when Zeref asks why she was simply watching them fight. Both siblings believed Natsu was unconscious, so Serene explained herself. Afterwards, Natsu bounces up while Zeref is distracted and their fight continues.

After the war, Natsu confronts Serene about what she said, which she confirms as the truth. Her fear of being rejected hits its peak, but her fear is immediately squashed when she’s met with a hug from Natsu.

During Lucy’s Kemu Zaleon reward celebration a year later, she shares how Natsu and Serene have started building their relationship over the past year, as well as how Serene’s become more open and friendly around the guild hall.

More to come :)

[ratherbefangirling]

Random poll fic

1 / Two

Winning vote : Yes

Winning member :Jimin

So it's not just me who likes the idea of vmin fighting over a girl 😳 🤔

Taehyung grabs your hand.

"Come on angel."

"Do you usually pick up girls like this?" You asks half curious.

"No. I don't but I found out my girlfriend was cheating on me for a quote 'richer man' and I was going to propose to her and reveal I was the 'richer man'"

You feel a little sorry for him.

"That's sad but marrying because you're heartbroken might not be the best idea."

"Look at this you're already better than I expected. I think we'll make a good couple the sane you and insane me."

"Still Taehyung.. like isn't this too fast?"

"How long does it take for a disaster to strike?"

"Moments?"

"Then why can't you find your soulmate and marry them?'

"Wait are you implying that I'm your soulmate?'

"Yes."

"But how do you know that?"

"Ok let's test it then."

"How?"

"How much does your ring cost?"

"1555.4 dollars"

(I'm using usd because Korean won is too confusing and I guess its the international currency?)

"Do you know how much this ring costs?"

"How much 7777 dollars"

"That can't be it."

" I can show it to you. The receipt. That's exactly 5 times... but how do you even remember the decimal prize?"

"My mom wouldn't stop quoting it."

He laughs and its such a rich laugh.

Someone crashes into you.

You look up.

"Y/n." Its your bestfriend who you secretly pine over.

"Jiminie."

"What are you doing? .... who is this?"

"Her lover." Taehyung answers cheekily.

"Hold on. What? You mean that ring is not a fake and you actually had a secret boyfriend?"

"Why were you here Jimin I thought you couldn't make it?" You say not so subtly changing the subject.

"I was at the meeting and it ended so I drove here hoping I'd find you. You weren't answering your phone so I got worried. I might have gotten a speeding ticket or two. But I couldn't let my favourite girl spend her night alone." Jimin replies.

And your heart fluttered a little as you watched him run a hand through his hair. His tie was loosened and the front buttons of his shirt were open.

He always made you a little breathless. Your jimin.

You met each other in highschool. You had transferred. So you didn't have much chance to make any friends. Jimin and you were placed in the same group for a project and you clicked and you've been through thick and thin together and even though you know him and his nefarious ways your crush hasn't disappeared. You enjoy being his favourite girl.

Taehyung hands you his number.

"Call me angel." He says and disappears.

"What was that?" Jimin asks their is a note of displeasure in his tone.

You laugh a little at the crazy turn of events.

"Possibly my fiance."

"What?" The shock on his face is cute. "When why? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I just met him."

"I think I'm the reckless one in this relationship. Please Y/n seriously are you actually being... yOu juSt meT hIm."

"Calm down. He thinks we're soulmates. I think that's sweet." You say.

"You cant" Jimin pouts.

"I can." You say."I'm single and he looks like he can afford my high maintainence life style."

"You can't marry for money." Jimin says.

"I mean it's because he's interesting. I think no day would be boring with him."

"But what about me?"

"You'll still be my bestfriend."

"What if I want more?"

"Don't play around Jimin."

"I'm not. I'm serious. I just wanted to get that promotion then shit. I was planning to ask you to be my girlfriend."

"That can't be real."

"It is. I promise. I should have done it sooner but I was too scared to loose you. You don't have to answer now just call me ok... I'll be waiting. "

He drops you home. Kissing your forehead before he leaves.

He's so cute wanna chomp his cheekies

[gorseflowers]

this is an edit of a very old draft from when i first watched the show but i love how much of shauna and taissa's plotlines as adults is repeating patterns and how much of it could've hypothetically been avoided if theyd talked things out with their spouses sooner (but of course there was never a chance that either of them could do that). like to an insanemaking degree theyre both so closed off to everyone but eachother from this deep seated belief in and fear of their own wrongness and it results in this unfolding tragedy of both of their adult lives falling apart

teenage shauna cheats with jeff because she wants to feel wanted and this (in her conscience) leads to someone innocent dying. adult shauna cheats on jeff because she wants to feel wanted and this leads to someone innocent dying. obviously theres important differences but the point is the fact that it all happens again, and the second time round not only was jeff not cheating on her first, he read the journals, knows all of the secrets that had weighed on her throughout their marriage and kept the distance between them, and he didn't care. if she'd told him years ago, it could've theoretically been fine, but fundamentally she couldnt let him that close either way. I think she told herself it was about what happened in the woods and she told herself he would never look at her the same way but deep down she didnt want to give him the chance to forgive her in the first place.

teenage taissa committed to being a leader for the common good and it resulted in van nearly dying. adult taissa commits to being a leader for the greater good and its shaping up to result in simone divorcing her. when she first tells simone about the sleepwalking, simone's reaction is to suggest ways to get her professional help, which taissa shuts down in favour of telling simone to leave bc shes afraid of hurting her and sammy. and crucially she says that since it started in the woods and stopped when they got rescued, she never saught help for it - if she had, or if she'd told simone earlier on, it might not have gotten that bad. but the need to shape how shes seen by the public extends to her own family, the need to maintain control manifests as a denial of the problem, she doesnt want simone to know those parts of her because she's so afraid of what's within herself that she cant acknowledge it until its no longer an option to ignore.

and none of this pretense extends to eachother. shauna and taissa understand eachother in the way only two people who went through hell together can and you can see it in the scenes where they fall asleep next to eachother -- there's no denying anything because they percieve eachother so clearly, but at the same time they dont quite forgive eachother because they cant forgive themselves. and that's the fear that keeps them from seeking understanding from their respective spouses: that they might be forgiven, that they might not be. and so the pact of secrecy has ruined both their lives, and since it comes from the idea (the fear) that what they did was completely unforgiveable, then really its the shame of their survival that's fueling all of it. both their families are falling apart, and chances are they're going to end up exactly where they started when getting back to the world after the crash - burdened with the knowledge of what they've done, the only two people capable of understanding eachother.

[thespacelizard]

The Evard Variation

Tags: original drow characters, D/s dynamics, teacher-student relationship, master/apprentice, consentacles, double penetration, restraint, angst, porn with feelings, pining, an absurd amount of angst for a tentacle porn fic

Summary: Spending less time together has not reduced Rizeth’s concerns about his feelings towards Ashenivir at all, and in an attempt to maintain distance he finds a new way to be intimate with his apprentice. Meanwhile, Ashenivir learns that his graduation may be arriving sooner than anticipated, and has mixed feelings about the matter.

—

His classroom was supposed to be a boundary. A place where he was simply a teacher and Ashenivir only a student. A place where he would not be tempted to indulge his bad habit of letting their dynamic bleed into every interaction they had.

“So the base is the same for all four investitures, then.” Ashenivir scratched another note next to the diagrams he’d already drawn. His handwriting was an almost illegible scrawl, but his spell notations were, as always, perfect. “Which means you could alter them from the commonly taught ones to be more specific, if you wanted.”

“Correct.”

Rizeth leaned over Ashenivir’s shoulder to examine his work, far closer than was necessary, letting his breath brush against Ashenivir’s ear, which presently sported a new silver stud. Ashenivir had gotten the set a month prior—the sounds he’d made when Rizeth set his teeth around them had been uncommonly delicious.

“I wonder what an investiture of lightning might be able to do…” Ashenivir mused, tapping his pen against his lips. He sucked thoughtfully on the end, slow enough to be a deliberate tease. Despite Rizeth’s instructions that their studying would be only studying, Ashenivir still pushed. Two months into the new arrangement with two scenes to show for it, and the intensity of them had not been as lessened by the scarcity as Rizeth had hoped.

“If you could manage it without electrocuting yourself, you might find your body more resistant to lightning, for a start.” Rizeth put pen to paper, using Ashenivir’s hand to sketch out the alterations. “And a temporary ability akin to the lightning breath of a dragonborn might also be available to you.”

Ashenivir’s hand was pliant beneath his, skin soft and warm under Rizeth’s fingers.

You have to stop doing this.

Read more on AO3

—

Obedience is a D/s, m/m dungeons & dragons fic series set in my homebrew drow city, featuring two wizard boys, the kinky magic they get up to, and the feelings they definitely don’t have for each other.

Read the series so far here: Obedience - thespacelizard

[heretic-saint-taliesin]

AUDIO LOGGING SYSTEM: salvage ship The Wretched_

Flight Engineer Boris Strugatsky reporting. The other members of the crew are dead and the engines remain non-operational, though ship integrity remains good and life support systems are still active. I successfully jettisoned the intruder from the airlock, but it remains alive and continues to try to access the ship. With a little luck I can repair the distress beacon and somebody will pick me up. This is Boris, the last survivor of the Wretched, signing off_

DAY 1 - SALVAGE SHIP THE WRETCHED_

[Communications commence, notable static in recording and an irritated tone of voice_]

Day One, salvage ship The Wretched. Flight Engineer Boris reporting. Don’t ask me why I’m sticking to formalities because I don’t know at this point. Maybe it’ll keep me sane - maybe I’m already beyond hope. Regardless. If this transmitter log is being heard anywhere then please_

[muffled sound of arms flailing_] 

Fucking hell, come and get me! I want off of this bucket of bolts sooner rather than later!_

[Audible creaking and groaning noises. Boris makes a shuddering noise_]

Until then… Tasks. This shitbucket will collapse on top of me if I don’t try and maintain what I can_

[Footsteps and the sound of creaking around the edges of the microphone. Boris’ voice is distant as microphone is being held in his hand_]

I’ll just get what I can do, done. That’s the best I can fucking hope for. Maybe talking into this thing while I work can at least be some kinda company. Or at worst it proved I at least tried to live before I died._

[Another loud groan_]

Ship collapse or that thing? I get the best life choices_

It’s hard to think with all this creaking. Everything sounds like it’s on its last fucking legs - because it fucking is! When we fought it… That thing was smashing through walls and tearing up doorways like no tomorrow. I’ve spent five hours patching the worst of the holes and doors at least. Don’t think there’s a way I can get the automatic opening functional again but at least I can slide and lock things shut if I have to - and GOD I hope I don’t have to_

There’s also all the support beams and towers, I checked them over and welded a few extra limbs of scrap on where I could - it might mean they hold up a little more. The central warehouses took the worst damage. Nothing of use in them anyways so I sealed them and barricaded the structures to try and prevent collapse_

[Footsteps, sound of tapping metal with metal_]

I didn’t build this thing so I can’t claim to be an expert on how The Wretched was put together but I did fly the damn thing so they showed me the schematics. I have a vague idea of what should go where and why, but some of it’s so royally fucked I’ve just been guessing where it fits and what it does. World’s worst puzzle. Arkady would have laughed at that_

[Pause. Sniff_]

Not gonna think about Arkady right now. Shit to do_ 

[Several minutes pass with the sounds of banging and welding static_]

Least I can say I tried. Structurally she’ll hold for… Some amount of time longer_ 

[Heavy breathing and pained sounds crackle through the recording system_]

I fucking hate manual construction. I’m an engineer who designs and flies not builds. Of fucking course I go and slice my fucking arm open on a bent piece of sheet metal. My coat’s more ruined and bloodier than it was from before and there’s this wound to contend with… God I hope it’s not deep I don’t want to bleed out before I can at least try and see what’s left of the Medbay_

[Footsteps and a door sliding, scrape of a chair_] 

Okay okay… Calm. Don’t panic, Borya. Panic will make shit worse. Mary always said it ain’t the wound that does you in it’s the shock. Just gotta not… Not lose it. Where’s_

[Rummaging and clink of bottles_]

Antiseptic. That’s gonna hurt. But the state of this ship, even in space, could mean all kinds of stuff has gotten into this gash right? So Mary would say you gotta clean the wound first. She’d say… What would she say?_ 

[The sound of a bottle being opened and the rustle of clothing. Boris’ voice does a vain attempt at sounding feminine_ ]

“Oh Borya, you go get into a fight with the training dummies again? ADAM told you not to go busting your knuckles open because you hate the sting of rubbing alcohol! But now I have to clean it up!”_ 

[His own laughter interrupts him but it quickly dies down to a heavy sigh_]

Yeah. This is gonna fucking sting alright. Mary… I wish you were laughing at me right now_ 

[Liquid sound and a loud hiss and yell_]

F-FUUUUUUUCK! Fuck… Fuck-k-k! Ow… Ow okay… Okay wound clean… Still bleeding but at least ain’t no chance of infection. Though.. Hm_

[Fabric sounds as Boris bandages his wounds_]

Mary kept tetanus vaccines in her back store - I should use one. Just in case_ 

[Pause_]

Medbay back store’s off limits. She’s the only one with access_

[Pause_]

I have her ID card on me. I can… No I can’t. No. I… I have to. I need a shot or I’ll be at risk. Mary… Oh fuck I’m so sorry_

[Footsteps and a door sliding open. A beep is heard in the card reader_]

It worked_ 

[Pause, heavy sigh before footsteps echoing_] 

Barely looks different to how she left it before I bet. She was working on all kindsa things for the ship. Bacterial experiments, hydroponics and all that kinda stuff. She’s got samples from probably every known disease and cure up here I bet. But… Vaccines. Mary where’d you have kept those?_

[Rummaging sounds. Several cabinets opening and closing and a few being rattled that are clearly locked. Eventually an exclamation_ ]

Here! Okay… No need to rummage around in her stuff any longer then. Just… Needle prep, jab it in, wash up and then do not disturb any further. She’d hate me being in here messing her organisation up anyway. Okay… Needle… Needle_

[Faint sound of tapping glass_]

That gets the air out right? Looks good. Upper arm… I’ll do the side that ain’t sliced open right now. What would she tell me? Uh… Right! Small prick!_ 

[Muffled noises and a yelp. The injection needle clatters to the floor and Boris makes a pained hiss_]

Ahhhh-oooow… Well no heroin habit for me because I am not doing that ever fucking again. God I hate this. I fucking hate this. I’m going back to my room for the night. No more of this fixing things up and shit today_

Flight Engineer Boris Strugatsky Signing off_ 

[diantha-rue-tansy]

To myself, whenever I need to hear it.

I don't know when you're reading this. And I don't know if you're reading it for the first time or the twentieth time. But if you're coming back here and reading this letter, I can imagine it means one of two things.

Things have been going pretty good lately and you happened to stumble upon this again to gain some perspective on a time that wasn't so great.

Or

Things have gotten really bad again in one way or another (wouldn't be surprised if it was self-sabotage, but it's unfair to assume. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt in this case, you could probably use a break if this is your scenario.)

Every year you'll look back at the person you were a year ago and determine how much you liked that person. If that's how you want to be remembered. If you learned and grew from your mistakes during that time.

Yes. You're still going to fuck up a lot, I'm afraid. It's not only within your own nature, but it's truly human nature at the finest level. There is no comic plan. There's no destiny. There is just the life you were given, and the choices you make within that life. There are no take backs. No universal second chances. Only the chances given by those around you, also experiencing life in their own horrible way. Make the best of what you have. The only way it can get any worse is if you die and you don't get another chance to try again.

I hope things are still going well with the person you were talking to when I wrote this. I hope you tell them you love them every day, and cherish their beautiful brown eyes and bushy hair. Treasure the warm, soft feeling of their lips when you kiss. Experiencing the magic of their body melting into yours as you feel like you become one being. I hope that if you're living together then the animals are all getting along peacefully and you guys have a beautiful home built with good foundations.

I know at this moment in time I really like this person, and I hope as time passes that turns into love. Even if things don't work out, I hope you're able to at least stay friends. They're an amazing person who sees the world in a beautiful way, and they deserve peace and happiness no matter what. At this point in time, I'm happy I met someone who reminded me of the beauty of starting over.

Speaking of

How's that book coming?

I'm sure that's gonna piss you off whenever you see it, but I don't mean to be condescending. We always have a flood of ideas and hardly ever finish anything. Maybe one day we'll finish that novella we started at 21 while working that dead-end retail job. Maybe we'll work on one of those 3 ideas we played with when we were 25. Maybe we'll write a play. Maybe it'll be a musical! Maybe we've already done some/one/all of these things (o.p.t.i.m.i.s.m.). I just hope whatever you're doing now, you're happy and you feel content. These things come in cycles, and I'm sure you'll recognize that more than I do now. Who knows, maybe the stories I remember now that I want to sit down and write about will be distant memories to you. Memories replaced by new stories from adventures I haven't experienced yet.

I hope you talked to your dad. I don't know if he's still alive or not, but if he is you should probably do that sooner than later. I don't need to remind you of any of these feelings. I'm sure by the time you've read this I'll have numerous letters to refer to to give you the idea of what you need to talk about.

On the flip side, and hopefully not a dark note

I hope you've gotten to experience parenthood. I hope those deep wounds are healing and you get to be an active part of your child's life and raise them to be someone I would be proud of. And if you're not, that's okay too. We've thought about it before and the possibilities of not having children. It's been painful, but even now I can accept it as a reality. I hope if that's the way it goes for us that we've been able to maintain that acceptance.

I'm writing this on a hot summer day at the end of July. Will is sleeping under the bed. Grace is napping on your denim jacket on the floor. Will is already starting to show his age; his once sleek black fur graying, and his face and belly chubby from his aging lethargy. Grace is still a baby. My little tuxedo shoulder cat. I adore her. I know she's going to be beautiful once she grows up and I'm so excited to watch her grow. Whatever ends up happening to them, I hope their lives are full of love and happiness and with them knowing you always did your best for them.

I'll say this, if you're still lurking on this Tumblr blog when you're 35 you're a fucking loser and you need to grow up, it's 2033, D. Although I'd also be impressed if the apocalypse hasn't happened and wiped out the Internet by then, in which case fair enough.

I'm writing this to you as the distant memory of your 27 year old self; an unreliable narrator in a story that never wanted to be written in the first place. You're not the sum of your mistakes. Hopefully people are still forgiving by then. Or else, you know, just don't fuck it up ding-dong. And I say that with all the love. I'm glad you're not dead. I'll make you not regret living to see 30 and being glad you're probably at least close to 40 by now even.

You don't have anything to lose, so you might as well try it. Go experience life.

I love you.

DRT

[genesisix]

[12:45am] jj maybank x fem!reader, 18+ smut!!! mainly face riding

"your nose is so pretty."

you find yourself mumbling at your boyfriend before your brain can even overthink those words and yet you're glad you didn't hesitate.

there's absolutely no reaction from jj for a whole minute as you absentmindedly trace his sharp features with your fingers, not quite able to handle just how handsome he is.

you've been observing his side profile for a while now and every time your eyes found their way to his nose, you couldn't help but bite your bottom lip at the mental image of its tip nudging against your clit whenever he's got his face buried in your cunt.

jj has been playing his video game for about an hour now and despite wanting to give him some space, you simply couldn't resist the craving of being close to him.

it's not like he minds your presence at all; jj loves having your legs in his lap and your hand in his hair, playing with the soft beautifully blonde strands as he enjoys his daily screen time away from all of his insane responsibilities.

usually you're quick to fall asleep, yet this time you seem to focused on him to even let the actual thought of sleep cross your mind.

you know it's because you can't stop thinking about your boyfriends lips, his hot tongue and his perfect nose, your head full of thoughts about how good he makes you cum over and over again once he's gotten a taste.

whereas jj remains absolutely clueless. he's also a little too focused to pay complete attention to your words but he does appreciate any compliment coming from your way. ever since the two of you started dating you’ve made it your mission to remind him how perfect he is

jj places a quick kiss of gratitude into your palm before he pushes his lips into a thoughtful pout and focuses on his game again, not realising how much you've been pressing your thighs together in hopes of releasing some of the pressure on your needy cunt.

there's just something about the way he scratches the sides of his nose whenever he's slowly getting excited, poking the inside of his cheeks with his tongue and nibbling on his lip like he's purposely trying to torture you.

"jj." you mumble sternly and reach for his hand, grateful he's quick to play into your neediness as he grabs your inner thigh and gently strokes your skin,

"i wanna ride your face, please."

usually you're not one to be this bold with your requests but after watching him for the past hour it's been incredibly hard for you to maintain your composure and even your patience has limits.

jj is absolutely stunned at your words. for a second he's not sure if he even heard you right, giving you a double take just to realise your current state.

eyes glossy, lips pushed into the cutest pout, thigh firmly pressed together and your cute nipples poking through the fabric of your pyjama shirt to the point where not a single thought is left to imagination.

just out of curiosity jj lets his hand wander in between your legs, gulping harshly at the way they fall apart like you've been waiting to be relieved and once his fingers graze your soaked panties, he knows exactly why you're reacting the way you do.

without even missing another beat, jj throws his controller as well as his headset to the side, turning his game off and almost instantly laying on his side of the bed.

"I'm sorry for not realizing sooner, baby", he whispers as you shakily make your way to straddle his handsome face, his cheeks and lips tinted in the sweetest shade of pink, "there you go, baby."

his praise elicits a soft whimper from your throat, your hole clenching in absolute despair and the second the tip of his nose grazes your flesh, you throw your head back with a loud moan of relief.

"fuck, baby", jj grunts against your cunt, his tongue lapping up your sweet juices and if it wasn't for his tight grip on your waist, you would have thought he passed

out, "you're so wet for me, angel, so perfect." all you can do is whimper in response, grabbing a fistful of his hair and grinding yourself against his tongue, whining every time his nose nudges your hardened clit.

"you're so wet for me, angel, so perfect."

all you can do is whimper in response, grabbing a fistful of his dark hair and grinding yourself against his tongue, whining every time his nose nudges your hardened clit.

"that's why you love my nose so much, hm?", jj smile turns into a smirk as he pushes his tongue inside of your clenching hole, groaning and moaning against your wet flesh like a man gone mad.

"mhm, y-yes", you whisper and feel the sweet sensation of your release climbing up your spine in the sweetest way possible, "love sitting on it."

and for a moment jj movements stop, as he appreciates your sweet compliment, head cloudy from all the arousal floading his brain and his cheeks burning from excitement.

"that's my good girl", he grunts and finally wraps his lips around your sensitive clit before he pushes the tip of his tongue against the nub and applies just the right amount of pressure, making sure to have you cum all over his face to make you feel as loved and appreciated as he does.

[thetrishtalgem]

Whumptober Day 10: Poor Unfortunate Souls

Taser || Whipping || Waterboarding

A year after the disappearance of Emperor Malacode and the Bar Crawlers, Miklan finally makes a breakthrough in the search for his brother.

Tag List: @poetic-leigh-me @writerofscribbles @whumptober-archive

Fandom: Dungeons and Dragons (OCs)

It had been almost a year since Emperor Malacode's disappearance.

Things in Rython had quickly fallen to chaos. Empress Taravena and Princess Kalia vanished without a trace as well, leaving no successors to the Imperial throne left. The remaining Barons and Baronesses of the various provinces struggled to keep peace in their own territories. They had tried to maintain an alliance of sorts at first, primarily headed by Baron Ronan of Altrus. But whispers quickly spread of his ties to the rebellion before the chaos, and he was swiftly removed from further council meetings. From there most of the leaders turned back to helping their own citizens. Others had to fight against invaders and pillagers now that the Imperial Army had disbanded. In a lot of ways, it almost seemed that things had gotten worse.

But what Miklan found most concerning were the rumors of what happened to the Bar Crawlers.

Most people assumed that the Bar Crawlers, as the most notable rebel group in the Empire's history, would have taken the opportunity to grab the throne the moment it seemed anything was amiss with the Emperor. But there was a piercing silence from them as well. Rebels across the continent whispered amongst each other about when the group may return. Some thought that they were waiting for the right moment to strike and help bring the people together again. Some believed they had slain Malacode themselves, only to have been killed in the process. Others had long since abandoned hope that they would ever return. Despite the growing likelihood of that rumor being true, Miklan held on to any shred of hope that he could find.

He'd remembered the day that Sylvain told him and their parents that his battles were going to take him into the Hells. Their mother could hardly keep herself together. Their father even had a grim expression on his face. Both of them had pleaded with Sylvain not to go, but all of them knew it was futile. Whenever Sylvain had his mind set on something, he was going to see it through to the end. His end or otherwise. And so Miklan had kept a brave face on despite the worry that gnawed at him like maggots. It only got worse with each day that passed. Miklan watched as his parents grew wearier and wearier with worry. Some days his mother refused to eat or sleep, she was so sick with worry.

But he'd finally had a breakthrough.

He and Arveene had been tracking rumors of a pair of strange travellers. One was a human that was quite the capable mage. He carried a staff that bore the crest of an Archmage of the Grand Archive yet claimed no connection to the organization. Travelling with him was a curious elven man who seemed frightened of everything around him. He didn't speak but for occasional shouts of anger or terror. Instead, he depended completely on the human he travelled with. Miklan and Arveene had offered to trail the pair as some of the rebellion's best remaining scouts. Their investigation and research taught them that the elven man was tall and a bit muscular, with longer orange hair that seemed barely maintained and piercing lavender eyes.

It was too much of a coincidence to be true. But Miklan didn't want to believe it.

Yet it was impossible to deny as he stood before Archmage Marcus Titus of the Grand Archive in tattered and filthy nobleman's clothes. Marcus had nearly jumped out of his skin when Miklan first approached and asked him about the elven man that traveled with him. Marcus had nearly burst into tears as soon as the words left his mouth.

"I-I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry," he stuttered. "I would have found you sooner but it was so difficult, since we'd never met before."

Marcus had warned Miklan that he wouldn't be ready for the state that Sylvain was in.

But nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.

The man standing in front of him certainly shared physicalities with Sylvain. He had the same hair, the same facial structure, the same height. Yet Miklan found himself hardly able to describe the person before him as a person. The man's eyes were sunken and sallow, darting almost everywhere around him. He flinched at nearly everything. His frame was thin, like he was slowly withering away. He stayed hunched over, curling in on himself.

"Syl…?" Miklan's voice was weak.

He took a hesitant step forward and watched in disbelief as the man in front of him recoiled, absolute fear overtaking his expression.

"It's okay, it's okay, Sylvain," Marcus soothed him. "He's not gonna hurt you, okay? He's family. Fa-mi-ly."

"Faah…fah-muh-lee?" Sylvain looked at Marcus.

Marcus nodded, a weary smile on his face. "Yes, Sylvain. Family."

Sylvain looked at Miklan with wide eyes. He slowly turned his head back to Marcus and pointed a single finger at him. Marcus nodded his head.

"Yeah. He's…he's kind of like me," he answered. "He'll help you because he's your brother. He cares about you."

Sylvain turned back to look at Miklan. "Br…bruuuh…bruh…bruh-bruh."

"Sylvain…" Miklan felt like his voice was going to give out.

He stepped forward, wrapping his arms slowly around the man standing in front of him. The shell of his brother. Sylvain stiffened for a moment, but then Miklan felt Sylvain wrap his arms awkwardly around the smaller boy. Miklan thought for a while that the tears might never stop. He had wanted so badly for his brother to be okay. To be alive, at the very least.

Now, he wasn't so sure that was for the best anymore.

"Bruh-bruh," Sylvain babbled.

Miklan let out a choked laugh, "Yeah. That's me."

"He had this with him, when I found him," Marcus held out a rolled piece of parchment. "You'll want to read this later."

Miklan nodded his head, taking the paper wordlessly as he held onto his brother for dear life.

…

To whomever reads this:

My name is Sylvain Eldrin Gautier. I am the oldest son of Elaria and Blythe Gautier, older brother to Miklan Gautier, member of the Bar Crawlers, and Champion of Helm.

If you learned this from reading this letter, then it means the rest of my party members are gone.

We were foolish. We didn't know who we were dealing with. In our defense, we thought we were doing the right thing. There seemed to be no other avenue in dealing with the Ruby Rod. It is an artifact of pure evil, and better for the world if it were destroyed. But everyone we turned to said it was impossible to get rid of it. Instead it would need to be sequestered away somewhere that no one could ever be corrupted by it nor tempted by the power it holds. This seemed like the only thing we could do. Perhaps I should start from the beginning.

After we raided the Vault of the Silent Legion and had the Ruby Rod stolen from us, we were contacted by an ancient and evil being. The Sea Devil himself, Marius Bermuda. He wanted us to retrieve the rod for him to store in his vault, away from mortal hands. Such an artifact would not corrupt a being with his alignment the way it had eaten away at Tamriel. He offered us various boons in exchange for this contract. And as collateral, we were to offer him our souls. They weren't to be taken unless we willingly went against his wishes or the contract.  My party thought this to be a fair trade. And so I went along with them, under the condition that my memory be used instead of my soul.

I won't know what happened that I am left in this state. All I can say is somehow, someway, we angered a very powerful being. If I am left a shell with no memory, then it means the other Bar Crawlers had their souls taken. They are gone.

I know not what the state of things will be in Rython if we do not return. But I should share what truths I know while I still can.

Baron Ren Gautier was murdered by Bran Cassian and replaced by Leiron Ostoroth for raising a rebel faction of bladesinger wizards. His disdain for the Empire was rewritten as madness, to assure that none follow in his footsteps.

My grandfather, Gael Gautier, was murdered Inquisitor Xera for his involvement in the rebel attack lead by Baron Ren Gautier.

Emperor Malacode is no longer a mortal. He completed some sort of ritual to transform himself to an Arch Devil.

There is a cult known as the Order of the Talon that seeks out the power to overthrow Asmodeus as the ruler of the Hells and destroy the demonic forces of the Abyss to bring the Blood War to an end. Their patron is Emperor Malacode. Whatever happens, he has to be stopped. No words could accurately describe the chaos this world would fall to if that came to pass.

I ask one last favor of whomever is reading this. All I can hope is you take pity on this poor unfortunate soul. Find my family. Tell them what happened to me. What happened to the Bar Crawlers. And tell them I am sorry, beyond comprehension. No words will ever do it justice.

Sincerely,

Sylvain Eldrin Gautier

[writerlyhabits]

Shine and Polish

Pairing: Din Djarin x reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Request: "Din catches you cleaning/polishing his armor for him (something usually only done between courting Mandos) and gets all shy explaining the implications to you send tweet"

Warnings: mild language, mature themes, Din in sweatpants, I think that's it?? Idk it's a short one

AN: I want to formally apologize to all of you who sent Din requests to my inbox that have been sitting there for a while, I promise I see you, I just had such a hard time finding the right motivation and inspiration for these pieces. Hopefully I can get the others pumped out in a decent timeline as well 🤞 Thanks @deceiverofgodss for bullying me into working on this, ily 💛 I hope you guys enjoy!

The beskar armor was a large part of his intimidation. It widened his frame – which was admittedly big enough without it – making him bulkier, heavier, a force to be reckoned with. It represented the history of warriors before him, Mandalorians through generations maintaining their reputation of being a people you don’t come back from a fight with. The dark visors and emotionless helmets only helped on that front, he couldn’t even count how many people had tried to back their way out of trouble with one silent look from him. 

Each beskar’gam was unique to the Mandalorian wearing it, and they take special care to make sure it looks as intimidating as wearing it makes them feel. Some go out of their way to paint their beskar, symbolizing their journey with specific colors and designs of their heritage. For Din, it’s keeping the pure metal shined and polished – it turns heads and sends a whisper through the crowd at the mere sight of him. 

It takes a lot to keep it that way. 

He’d had to get his new armor after the Mud horn, but getting out the mud caked into the rest of it had taken much longer than he cared to admit. Being swallowed by the Krayt Dragon and then walking through the Tatooine desert had left him scrubbing the dried goo from crevices he didn’t know existed for hours after you and the kid had fallen asleep. And now, he could only imagine the hassle it would be getting all the blood that kriffing Nexu had gotten all over his armor. 

Din was damn near ready to collapse when you all had gotten back to your room at the inn, but he could feel the dirt and grime that was building up underneath his flight suit. He watched you launch Grogu into the air a few times, hugging him close as you flopped down onto one of the small beds, and sending a wink Din’s way. 

You were a saint. With the kid nestled into your arms and properly distracted, he began stripping off his Beskar and setting it down on the caf table. He’d have to get to it after he got out of the ‘fresher. One more glance over at you, smiling to himself as little green hands grabbed your cheeks to try and escape your barrage of kisses, and he slipped into the bathroom. 

The reflection looking back at him in the mirror was rough, to say the least, but when the hot water pounded into his skin the rest of the galaxy faded away. 

It felt like heaven. He let it run across his face as he tried to revive his hair, though he didn’t know what difference it would make, it would be flattened under the helmet again once he stepped out. The pressure of the water worked wonders on the knots in his shoulders. He’d have to find a way to get those out sooner rather than later. Maybe he could sweet talk you into helping… He could just imagine how your nimble fingers would feel gliding across his skin, easing his muscles, gripping his shoulders while he-

No. That was enough of that. Dangerous territory Djarin, keep it together. 

You’d been traveling with Din for… well, it had been a long time now. You’d been with him through thick and thin, been there well before he’d picked up a strange bounty from an imperial imp, and fallen in love with the little green bounty just as much as he had. And after having lost the kid and gotten him back, a handful of times Din had still yet to tell you how he felt. At least, not in a way you’d be able to pick up on. 

Each day that passed where he would choke on his words, he watched you instead. He knew what would catch your eye as you walked through the markets on rural planets, he knew your favorite foods and could tell what you would get for yourself – often before you did. He knew how to read your body language as well as you had come to read his, and you were so in tune with each other that it felt as if you’d known each other your whole lives. 

So why couldn’t he just fucking say what he meant? Instead, he stood by your side and watched as that pretty smile formed on your cheeks, watched your eyes sparkle in the starlight, watched you smother Grogu in loving affection… All he ever did was watch. 

He wanted to take your hand for more reasons than pulling you along behind him, he wanted to do it for no reason. He wanted to stand too close and put his hand at the small of your back, brush his bare thumb across your cheek to comfort you, hold you close to keep you warm late at night. He wanted to run his hands over all your curves, see your pupils blown wide as you looked up at him, feel you quiver beneath him as he-

Dank farrik, cut it out. Din turned the water ice cold to shake himself of the thoughts, pushing them back into the corners of his mind where they belonged. He couldn’t afford to think of you like that, not while he kept watching without saying a damn word about how he felt. 

He took his time leaving the room that was now filled with humid air and steam from his shower. It had made it easier to clean the blood that had splattered on his helmet, polishing it to look as clean as he felt. He dressed in a fresh set of lounge clothes – an investment he’d made at your insistence, and one he’d thanked you for every time the soft clothes draped against his skin – and placed the helmet back on his head, ready to face the rest of his party once again. 

With you, he was prepared for anything. He loved your wild spirit, a shining beacon of your warmth in a galaxy that was otherwise cold and unkind. What he wasn’t prepared for was to see you sitting on the floor with his beskar in your hands, half of the pieces on the caf table having been cleaned and polished. 

It was times like these he was thankful he was hidden behind the helmet, because his cheeks were burning in an incriminating shade of red. 

“I like your pants, Din,” you smiled, only looking up from his shoulder piece to give him a playful smirk. And was that..? Of fucking course it was the one with his signet. Cause that’s what he needed right now. “Those the really soft ones I convinced you to get on Naboo?”

“I- yeah… they’re uh, nice,” he managed, feet rooted to the spot, unable to take his eyes off of the way you were being so delicate with his armor. 

“Oh, they’re nice. Well, aren’t you chatty.” Any other time, he might’ve laughed. Currently, his brain was rewiring itself. His lack of response must have been noticeable because now you were setting your rag aside and giving him a concerned look. “Is everything okay?” 

If ever there was a loaded question, that would be it. 

“Yeah, just fine.” A cock of your eyebrow told him that you didn’t believe him, but he couldn’t seem to get any words of consolation out of his mouth. A few more beats of silence passed, Din tried swallowing the lump in his throat a few times, and then he saw something in your expression shift. You were figuring it out… Your focus shifted back down to the shoulder piece in your hand, drifted to the others on the caf table beside you, and found his again with worry in your eyes. 

“Have I done something wrong?”

“No,” he was quick to assure you. “No, you haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Are you sure? I haven’t broken some sacred bond between you and your armor?” His heart was hammering in his chest, but you were still able to get an amused huff out of him, which you had told him were barely audible outside of the helmet. He shook his head to answer your question, and in response, you set the now shining shoulder piece back with the rest of his armor. “Will you tell me what’s going on then? You’re freaking me out.”

Maker, where would he start? 

He took a deep breath and decided to take a seat on the floor across from you, leaning against the side of the table. He bent his knees so his feet were flat – grounding him, in a way – his arms rested on top of them. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, possibly giving the appearance that he was relaxing, giving his body a rest. It couldn’t have been farther from the truth. 

“When a Mandalorian cleans another’s armor, it’s a representation of trust,” he started, figuring it would be better if he led with an explanation instead of a blunt answer. “The one removing their armor becomes vulnerable, unprotected by their beskar; they are trusting the other with that vulnerability. And as the other polishes the armor they’ve been trusted with, they help prepare them for battle.”

“That’s beautiful,” you whispered, and only then did he dare look at you. A soft smile graced your cheeks, very visibly put at ease at not having made some great offense to his creed. 

“It’s… a very common courting ritual.” Your eyes widened, and your lips parted in realization. Din didn’t know if he wanted to grab you, pull you into his lap and tell you exactly what had been on his mind the second he saw you with his armor… or if he wanted to run from the room until you could both forget about this entirely. 

He was on the verge of opening his mouth to take it back, to assure you it didn’t always have to mean something that significant – even if that would be a lie – but you beat him to the punch. 

“Tell me more,” you lilted, head tilted in curiosity. “What else do courting Mandos do?” His nerves would have done well with a very large glass of spotchka to have this conversation, though having a sober judgment was probably in his best interest. 

“Mandalorians are big on hidden meanings, a lot of what we do tends to symbolize something bigger.” 

“I’ve noticed,” you smiled, easing his nerves enough to get another small laugh out of him. 

“In a way, it’s somewhat similar to any other relationship. Building trust, getting to know each other, spending time together. The difference is in that underlying meaning, our rituals intended to show how together you both will honor the Resol'nare.” He paused to give you a minute to take it in, stop him if you needed further explanation, but your evident eagerness prompted him forward. “They usually represent how you will contribute to the community together, how you will provide for one another. How you will rear children together.” 

That last statement made his heart skip and sent an electric shot through his body – and to a part of him that didn’t need to be present in this conversation. 

“I guess that makes sense, there’s no Resol’nare in a non-mando relationship, but you still try to figure out how a life together is going to look,” you agreed. “Are most of your rituals like this one? Providing acts of service to your partner?”

“A good many of them, yes. Polishing armor, cleaning weapons…” You were too clever for him to get away with this, he saw the slight tilt of your lips as the same realization hit you both; he always cleaned your weapons for you. Even after he’d taught you how to clean your blaster, he would hold out his hand and make some kind of excuse about it being easier since he was already cleaning his own. 

He could recover from this. “Some gift handcrafted weapons, and if their bond is strong enough, those weapons will bear the other’s signet.” He’d yet to give you a mudhorn, that one was easy. Given, there weren’t very many items that had a mudhorn on them in passing, otherwise he might not have been able to resist the temptation. But while he was in the clear, he watched the slight drop in your demeanor. 

“Are you allowed to so openly wear someone else’s signet?” 

“Not on your armor. But with a weapon, it is a gift that you may carry the other’s signet while courting, not necessarily that you may wear it as your own.” You nodded in understanding, and he waited for that slight knowing smile to come back to your cheeks, and was surprised at his disappointment when it didn’t. He was in the clear, you wouldn’t suspect him… 

And maybe he didn’t want that anymore. 

“That one is more formal, but there are others to do with hunting and providing,” he said quickly, acting on instinct to try and reel you back in. “A basic, instinctive display of protection; bringing meats and hides from your hunt, preparing their favorite foods…” He couldn’t find the words to continue anymore when your gaze met his visor and softened. You figured him out, and his heart may have been beating in his ears, but he was no less confident in his quiet admission. 

“Din?” you asked gently, and he said your name in acknowledgement. “Have you been flirting with me?” 

“Yes.” The sparkling smile that spread across your cheeks sent a warm feeling through his body. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I needed time. That was the only way I knew how to do anything about it without making a fool of myself, or ruining one of the few good things that I have,” he smiled, and you turned away from him to hide your own flustered expression. 

“That’s not fair! I didn’t know that’s what you were doing,” you laughed. 

“That was the point,” he smiled, and you shook your head exasperatedly as your gaze settled back out into the room. He followed your line of sight, landing on the child as he sat happily in the cocoon of blankets and toys you had crafted for him on one of the beds. 

Din felt a familiar ache as he watched his foundling, one that longed for these little domestic routines with your mis-matched family. He tried to ignore them because of the desire for you they had a tendency to inspire, despite the fact that no matter what he liked to call you, the three of you were a family in your own way. And yet, this time felt different. It felt comfortable. 

He caught your movement in his peripherals, turning his head slightly to find you grinning curiously at him. “Now that I know… how do you feel?” He took a second to inhale before he responded, steadying himself. 

“That depends. Other than your piqued interest, I still don’t have an answer to how you feel.” He was sure you saw right through him; he wasn’t an ignorant man, he could assume how you felt based on your response. But he’d done enough of that. Besides, it was your turn to be the one spilling your guts.  

“Well… I’ll tell you that now I know where I’ll pick up dinner tonight.”

“That’s not what I-” 

“The cantina we passed in town, they have that soup I know you love,” you started, quick to cut him off and make him see your damn point. “I don’t know if it counts because I didn’t prepare it, but that’s the best I can do for now. You’re just gonna have to read between the lines, Mandalorian.” He only stared at you for a few moments, taking in your growing smile, warm and mischievous in a way that was so unique to you. 

You were flirting back at him. 

You liked him. 

Instead of finding words to reply, having used up his usual quota, Din shifted in his place on the floor to reach out for you. Your soft laughter lit up his entire body as he pulled you closer, and you slid into his lap with ease. He could no longer deny himself with your half-spoken admission, giving in to the part of him that needed to have you close as often as he could manage.

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