#hes so dysfunctional. bless his sweet heart

[ollypopwrites]

From Depths Unknown ; Part 6

Part 1 ⚜️ Part 2 ⚜️ Part 3 ⚜️ Part 4 ⚜️ Part 5 or Read on Ao3

Rolan x F!Tav (AFAB, she/her) *Tav is a Storm Sorcerer, but no actual reference to her appearance.

Rating: E

Tags & Warnings: [18+ MDNI] Smut (PiV sex, fingering, wizards and their mage hands am i right?), confessions, background Bloodweave being dysfunctional (i love you boys but u are a mess), familial banter, Rolan being Rolan, and Tav's savior complex.

Notes: I said six chapters.... but i got carried away again. Next chapter will be the last I promise lol.

Chapter Summary:

Rolan felt the walls closing in on him. The thought of her packing her things to leave the city behind had created a painful clawing sensation in the center of his chest. He had quickly realized that were he to give any input, Rolan would be near begging her to stay. Tav should do what she wanted to, and without him being so openly upset at the prospect of her departure. But it had been days of agony keeping quiet as she played with ideas of what she ought to do and what she wanted to do. He was not sure he could contain himself any longer.

“Engaged? As in…  to be married?”

“What other kind of engaged  is there, darling?” Astarion took a sip of wine. “Do we not have our fearless leader’s blessing?” 

Tav rolled her eyes at his pout. “No, it’s just… fast.”

“Our bond was tried by illithid fires, a more harmonious matrimony couldn’t be forged,” Gale grinned. 

“Point taken.”

“Will it be a spring wedding?” Shadowheart smiled only half teasing, “with calla lilies and hydrangeas? Oh, who will be the ring bearer? I think Scratch would love to do the job. We can make Minsc the flower girl.”

“A role he would fill honorably, no doubt,” Gale chuckled. 

Astarion seemed to be mulling over the idea of an actual ceremony. Then shook his head and turned back to his glass. It was still an adjustment, his new life amidst the living. He kept forgetting he actually had to eat, and as a result Tav had started slipping rations into everyone’s pockets to offer him regularly. Any spot they settled into, he would find a pocket of sunlight from a window and sit in. 

After decades of hiding from the sun, and without the tadpole to preserve his formerly-undead skin, there was a slight pink tint to it. Tav watched as he pressed his fingers against the slightly sunburnt skin, the pressure making it lighten until he removed it. It warmed her heart to see him adjust, but she would never embarrass him by saying so.

“After we return to Waterdeep there will be much to do,” Gale said, “the tower will need adjustments, now that it will be our home. Once things get settled, and I face my mother’s ire, we can start to consider the details.”

“Gods, I’ll have a mother-in-law ,” Astarion realized.

“She will love you,” Gale assured him. 

“I think it might be Tara who is the harder sell,” Tav said. “She’s protective.”

“As many tressyms are,” Gale hummed. “Discerning and erudite.”

“I can catch a few pigeons, maybe that will soften her up,” Astarion smiled. 

“Good to know you’re still the same,” Shadowheart laughed. “What will you do in Waterdeep? Become a magistrate again?”

“No,” Astarion scrunched up his nose. “It’d be too hard now to get my pockets lined with all this Saviors of the Gate talk.”

“An easy solution would be to simply not accept bribery,” Gale pointed out.

“Where’s the fun in that, my sweet?” Astarion purred. “I have a very needy wizard to support now. How else will I pay for your quills and ink?”

“I’ll remind you I was a very established Archmage,” Gale smirked. “I have no shortage of means to supply myself with materials and whatever else you may desire.”

“Trying to buy my love now, are you? Go on, it’s working.”

“Gods, I wish you two would get your own room,” Tav grimaced. 

Astarion winked at her, his smile still managed to be dangerous despite the new lack of fangs. 

“Speaking of rooms.” Gale was considerably pinker, seeming to realize again they were not alone. “There’s more than enough space, should you wish to join us.”

The topic of conversation Tav kept avoiding and yet could not seem to get away from. What was she going to do next? Halsin had extended an offer to have her join him in the new settlement, and Shadowheart had made it clear she would welcome some company on her new adventures. Gale and Astarion kept insisting they take her with them like she was some kind of stray cat that needed a home. Her mother and Lottie were still in the city, but they couldn’t keep the inn closed forever. They would have to go back to business as usual, now that they knew she was alive and well after going missing.

She was overwhelmed with the options, but more than that a deep feeling of sadness came with them. Leaving her family behind again felt unconscionable. If anything she would probably have to go back and run the inn, take care of her mum and sister, and extend her offers of an always open door for her new friends. Everytime she thought of it she realized how much she wanted to do anything else and was plagued by guilt about it. 

“I’ve been dealing with you two making eyes at each other for months across camp,” Tav joked, “I hardly want to stumble upon you two mid-romp around your home.”

“Your loss, darling,” Astarion grinned. 

“It really isn’t,” she laughed. 

“But what are you going to do?” Shadowheart asked. 

“My mum and Lottie need me,” she shrugged. “I’ll probably put my hero days behind me and run the inn.”

“They seem fine to me,” Shadowheart commented. “If anything Alan needs them with how much they’ve helped him recently.”

It was true. The Elfsong was one of two pubs left standing in the area, the other being the Blushing Mermaid, and both were incredibly busy in the aftermath. But there were a couple new places that had popped up in the lower city, and things were calming down as shops reopened and homes had been rebuilt. But being the last two standing spots with food, ale, and room, both generously offering what they could back to their city, they had become even more popular than ever before. 

“They won’t stay,” Tav shook her head. “That inn was my father’s legacy, humble as it is.” She played with the pearl around her neck.

“I’ll have to stop by and see it for myself,” Shadowheart said. 

“You better have a good story ready,” Tav said, “you get drinks on the house if you impress the owner.”

“I helped you save the world, I think you can spare me a drink without a story.”

“We run a business, Shadowheart, not a charity.”

Rolan felt a strange sense of awe and fear as Gale held out the pieces of the Netherese Crown. He thought nothing could surprise him anymore but being presented the broken pieces of a historical relic of that nature had him speechless. The two of them had spent days trying to find the crown. Tav had been helping them earlier, but she had run off to find something else to do after using up her stores of magic for the day. It was nearly nightfall, and they had finally gotten it out of the Chionthar.  Gale seemed to be hypnotized by it, and Rolan tried to find a way to break his reverie. 

“Mystra will be pleased.” 

The comment was purely meant to fill the silence, and not be inflammatory in any way. However, Gale’s nostrils flared and a strange half-snarl passed over his face for a moment. Quickly, he seemed to come back to himself with a tight smile but still said nothing. 

“Surely it’ll be safer in her hands than here,” Rolan offered at the lack of a response. 

“Yes,” Gale said quietly. “Surely.”

He felt uneasy about Gale’s mood, but he knew Gale and Mystra’s history was complicated at best. Even so, he never liked the look in the older man’s eyes when it came to anything Netherese. Rolan knew he was the last one to cast stones when it came to untamed ambition and poor choices made in its pursuit — but there was the added potential of Gale actually pulling off any insane scheme he put his mind to which made Rolan wary. 

A yell had Rolan looking up, seeing Tav running up to them. “Did you find it?” Tav said as she got closer. She bumped into Gale’s side, leaning close over the crown in his hands, “weird isn’t it? It was the source of all our problems and now it’s just… trash.”

“This is a highly volatile artifact, it’s not trash ,” Gale’s musing was interrupted by his need to correct her. 

“No,” Tav frowned, “I know all about highly volatile,” she poked at the orb mark on his chest to make her point, “this is just… a nuisance. ”

Rolan knew their relationship was nothing more than platonic. Still, he couldn’t help but wish she felt as comfortable invading his space as much as she did Gale’s. It was hardly inappropriate, but they were just at ease in each other’s space and he found himself wanting the same. It was not the first time he felt the sting of jealousy when it came to her companions.

“Nuisance. Its power is enough to transcend mortality and you call it a nuisance,” Gale muttered, putting the crown away in his pack. “You’re being purposefully bothersome”

“And you’re  being weird about the crown again,” she said back. “Don’t let Astarion see you moon over it like that. He’ll get jealous.” She clapped him hard enough on the shoulder that he grunted and then turned to Rolan with a bright smile. “I ran to get us some food but Mum and Lottie are off for the night. Cal thought it might be nice to host dinner at the tower so they don’t have to cook.”

“You can’t just commandeer my tower for dinner parties,” he replied, but his irritation was mostly for show. A dinner with her and the others was far from disagreeable to him. 

“But we did anyway,” she scrunched up her nose with the petulant tone. “Cal lives there too, if he wants to make everyone dinner he can.”

“I’ll remind you that you're not the hero calling the shots in my home,” he rebutted. 

“Seems my wizards are in quite the mood today,” she crossed her arms over her chest. “You,” she pointed to Gale, “stop obsessing over that crown and come enjoy a nice dinner with your friends. And you,” she shifted her extended finger over to Rolan, “can join us or sulk in your study. The tower is big enough for either.”

With that she started her walk back to the city from the docks without them. Rolan watched her go, heart rate spiking at being called one of her wizards. He almost forgot to be offended that she was getting too comfortable calling shots around the tower, as if it were also her own home. And that was also a jarring thought. Not for the first time since her mother had arrived, he found his mind chanting at Tav in a desperate plea like she was some detached deity who could hear his prayers: stay with me, stay forever, my home – my heart is yours . 

But she was walking away, and Rolan called after her, “you don’t get to order me around!” 

“I think you’ll find she doesn’t have to give orders for you to do exactly what she wants,” Gale was grinning a little as he said it. “After you,” he gestured to begin walking, “your lady awaits.”

Rolan rolled his eyes and started walking, cheeks burning the entire time. They made their way through the city, passing through the streets which had started to become bustling again. They made it back to the Tower before night fully fell, and Lia was closing up shop with Tolna. Minsc had taken it upon himself to help out. Rolan was not sure if the ranger would do more harm or good, but Lia seemed confident enough in him. At the bottom of the stairs, Jaheira was waiting with her arms crossed in her usual stance of aloof authority. 

“Ah, there is our host,” Jaheira said with a wry smile. “And Gale, looking ‘miles away.’ Did you find your crown?”

“It’s completely destroyed, but yes. The crown is in our safe hands.”

“Safe. Right.” She arched a brow at him. “You two are needed upstairs, and I need a word with the cub.”

“ This is my home ,” Rolan found himself reiterating in bewilderment. 

“And you are a gracious host,” Jaheira bowed. 

“How many times am I going to be ordered around in my own tower tonight?” 

“Go where you please,” she held up her hands in amused resignation, “but your brother is asking for you and I still need Tav alone.”

Rolan rubbed at his face before heading up the stairs in defeat, Gale following his lead. Of the hills to die on, his friends bossing him around was one that was ranking lower on his list by the day. It was a lost cause, really, with Cal and Lia always taking their side. Truly he didn’t mind it, but it was annoying to be Master of a great tower, now well-known and revered in his city, only to be strong armed by a geriatric vigilante and forced into socializing by his little brother. 

“Does a wizard good to have obstinate friends around his tower,” Gale told him, “keeps us humble.”

Rolan had no reply aside from a slight noncommittal grunt, and made his way to the kitchen. There was a dedicated dining room with an impossibly long table made of some ancient wood from an enchanted forest and an ostentatious seat at its head for the master. It was a beautiful room with large lavish paintings and floor to ceiling windows. Him, Cal and Lia never ate there, however. The kitchen was big enough to put a table large enough to seat them and all their friends. 

It just felt cozier, more like a home. Inside, Cal was running around the kitchen throwing something together. Of the three of them he was the best cook, and judging by the smell, tonight would be quite the meal. Astarion was sitting in a corner, eyes looking down at the city through an open window that was framed by sun dried herbs. As usual, Gale’s attention went to the elf first and he made his way over. Halsin had gotten Yenna to join them, the young girl watching Cal cook with interest while Halsin dozed in bear shape nearby her. At the table Lottie, Tatianna and Shadowheart were looking over a map.  

“There you are,” Cal said. “Where’s Lia?”

“Closing up shop, she’ll be up soon,” Rolan replied. 

“Did Tav not come with you?” Tatianna asked. 

“Jaheira needed her,” he sat down next to her. “What are you three up to?”

“Charting our journey back home,” Lottie said. 

“I want to mark down the location of the inn,” Shadowheart said mostly to herself. “After Reithwin I may make my way towards Waterdeep to visit the House of the Moon – and Gale and Astarion, of course,” she said excitedly, “your village is on the way isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Tatianna said with a nod. “Give me your map, I’ll mark a trail you can get to from there. Fastest and with the most beautiful sights,” she said excitedly. 

“Are you planning to leave already?” Rolan asked. His stomach turned with discomfort at the thought. 

“The inn has to reopen sometime,” Tatianna shrugged. 

“Again, I can offer teleportation,” he said. 

“Lottie wants to see a few places on the way,” the older woman smiled. “We don’t get to travel often.” 

“Maybe you can make one of your fancy teleportation circles here anyway,” Lottie said. “So when Tav starts shacking up with you in the tower we can see her whenever we want.” 

Teleportation didn’t exactly work like that, but his brain was split between correcting her and feeling a rush of some emotion at the teasing. Hope, it dared to name itself, and he immediately tried to chain it back up. 

“Lottie,” Tatianna scolded, but her smile was mischievous. 

“Is she not going with you?” Shadowheart asked, sparing Rolan any embarrassment by not acknowledging the teasing. “She’s made it seem like she is.” 

“She hasn’t said,” Tatianna looked at Rolan pointedly. “But she better decide soon.”

“Is everything alright?” 

Jaheira’s expression had turned serious after Rolan and Gale made their way up the stairs. She guided Tav far enough away that none of the specialists in the shop nor Lia could hear them. She looked around to ensure they were alone and offered her a soft smile. 

“Rest, Cub, there are no villains that need smiting just yet,” she said. “I simply wanted to speak with you.”

“Alright.” Tav frowned. 

“Your story has spread, not unlike mine or Minsc’s, and you will feel the pressure to live up to that story,” she began. “If I am right, this journey has shown you what you are truly capable of.”

“Oh, Gods, a pep talk. Are you dying? Did the years finally catch up?”

Jaheira let out a short laugh. “Watch it,” she warned with a mirthful smile, “I’m offering you a chance to use your capabilities. My numbers have dwindled, but the Harpers never stay down long. And I hope to add you to their ranks.”

“Oh.” 

“You will get to stay in Baldur’s Gate, there is still plenty to do. Though I’m sure the chance for running around Faerûn will present itself again,” she told her. 

“Aren’t Harpers spies?” Tav frowned. “Hard to do much spying when everyone in the city knows your name.”

“A challenge both Minsc and I have managed to overcome,” Jaheira smiled wryly. “We don’t just collect information, we act on it. Your skills would be invaluable, not to mention your influence.”

The idea of having influence over anything as serious as the Harper’s dealt with made her chest squeeze with nervousness. It was, she supposed, nothing  new given the final battle against the Absolute, but Tav still had trouble wrapping her head around it. Jaheira seemed to sense her trepidation.

“Do an old woman a favor and simply think about it. You would do good here.” She put her hand on Tav’s shoulder with a slight squeeze. “Now, let’s grab some food.”

As they made her way up, she had questions. And a strange sensation of excitement. Since the defeat of the Absolute she had thrown herself into rebuilding the city, not sure what else to do in the face of no longer having a goal. This was an opportunity, a purpose , and she felt the possibility of it like a strong beacon of hope. She could build something for herself in the city.  

When they walked through the doors, everyone was in full conversation as Cal started serving. She sat between Gale, who seemed uncharacteristically quiet, and Lia who was chatting with Rolan about the store. She locked eyes with Rolan, seeing his slip away from hers the moment he was caught. Lia turned to glance at what had his attention while she was still talking and smiled. How she resisted the urge to tease her big brother was beyond Tav’s understanding, given the way she normally tormented him. 

Cal’s impromptu dinner had been a success, the younger tiefling beaming about it with every compliment. From what Tav knew, for a while it had just been the three siblings, and she could see Cal’s joy at a gathered group around a table. It was very domestic, she realized. The ease in which everyone seemed to settle in, the welcoming way everyone had greeted her mother and sister — it made her quite happy. 

Her companions she expected no less from, if she was honest. Gale was always welcoming, Shadowheart’s change over the past few months had made her less suspicious and more inclined towards the warmth that had always been lurking beneath. Astarion was still Astarion, and more recently quite retrospective with his new mortality but her mother was easy to get along with. Lottie was just enough of a smart ass to make him giggle, and Tav knew he didn’t mind their presence. 

The tiefling siblings, however, had been an unknown concept. Cal was very open hearted, always the least of her worries when it came to interpersonal interactions. Lia could be brash and maybe a bit intense, but she was at her core kind. Rolan had been her biggest surprise. 

Even now he was chatting almost easily with her mother. When he had shown up to the Elfsong with them in tow she was shocked, and a little nervous. Rolan, as much as she adored him, took some getting to know before his charms made an appearance. But it seemed her worries had been for nothing: Lottie teased him easily, and Tatianna was never put off by his sometimes brusque tone or his facade of extreme pride. 

Tav thought she may like to see more of them all gathered around a dinner table. 

Her musings were interrupted by Astarion abruptly stepping away from Gale and walking out of the door. Gale had a frown on his face, lost in thought, clutching his bag with one hand. No one else seemed to have caught whatever lover’s quarrel the two had, but old habits die hard and Tav was out of her seat to make peace before she even realized it. 

Rolan’s eyes flicked over to her, and she smiled at him. It was a regular occurrence, he seemed to be hyper aware of her presence whenever they were in a room of people. As comforting as it was frustrating, since he never seemed to act on this magnetism that had pulled at them. But she had a former-vampire to check on. 

Astarion moved nimbly, even without his inherent vampiric attributes. Silently and quickly he was walking out of the tower, and Tav realized how loudly her footsteps were as she ran to catch him. She said nothing as she caught up to him, and he rolled his eyes when she did but said nothing. They made their way out of the tower and went back to the Elfsong, where it was bustling with the night time rush. 

“If you insist on following me around like a puppy you may as well buy the drinks,” he said haughtily.

“You really know how to charm a girl,” Tav said back as they passed the bar. “Mermaid whiskey, Alan, please.” 

“Oh, you are trying to butter me up,” Astarion said. 

“You seem like you need it,” she replied while Alan disappeared to find the expensive bottle. “The drama of walking out like that, you’ve outdone yourself.”

“Surprised you noticed,” he crooned. “You’re always so busy making eyes at your wizard. Have you ever considered bedding him or do you simply enjoy being pined over?”

“That’s harsh,” Tav’s eyebrows flew up. “Don't talk about my wizard when you're obviously crossed with yours.”

Alan came back with the bottle and some glasses. Tav dug into her hip purse and tossed more gold than it was worth, but she hardly cared. Neither of them acknowledged that she had called Rolan hers , but she did feel a little embarrassed. No one else was there to hear her, yet she wondered if that was too presumptuous. She led the way to their usual spot, away from the crowd and secluded as could be in a busy pub. Astarion sat down and shot back the first pour of whiskey much too fast, he hissed slightly at the burn. 

“Gods, I have to remember not to do that,” he said. 

“Could you not taste it before?”

“It was like it was a ghost of a flavor,” he looked at the brown liquid when she poured him another glass. “The only thing that ever had any real taste was blood.”

Tav hummed curiously. “Lots for you to adjust to then.”

“I keep scaring myself when I walk by mirrors,” he mumbled. “And you were right, I do have laugh lines.”

“And they’re very becoming,” Tav smiled. 

Astarion scowled. 

“It’s okay to be a little overwhelmed,” she told him. “So much has happened in the past few weeks alone.” 

Astarion didn’t answer.  Tav sipped the whiskey, grimacing at the taste. Sure it was high quality but she much preferred wine. Astarion seemed to enjoy sipping at it, however, his pale eyes darting around the room. She let him take his time, let him decide whether or not to share his feelings. Early on Tav had realized simply being present seemed to be enough for Astarion to open up eventually, pushing him to have a genuine conversation almost always backfired.

“It’s the damned crown.” He said without preamble. 

“You’re telling me you don’t want to be a god?” Tav asked in shock. 

“We discussed it,” he said. “We discussed it.”

“And?”

“I don’t want the rest of our time together to be about getting back at Her .”

Tav offered a soft hum of understanding.

“But now that he has it…” Astarion trailed off, his eyes looking as if he were somewhere else entirely in his head. “What if he does it? What if he leaves me here?”

A pang of hurt stabbed at her heart, all of his quietness made sense now. Tav cautiously put a hand out, palm up, letting him decide if touch was on the table. Astarion looked at it, then placed his hand in hers. She squeezed gently. It was still strange to feel warmth in his hand.

“That’s not in his nature, he would do anything for you,” she said with a soft smile. “But even if he does, you won’t be alone. You will always, always have a place with me, I’d never let you go through that alone.”

Astarion looked at her for a long while. “And what’s your nature? Naive, trusting, bleeding heart fool that you are.” His lips quirked up a little as he teased, only emphasizing the genuine way he added, “we really were lucky to have you through all this, you know. 

“I would have been long dead before I even got to the grove if it weren’t for the lot of you,” she countered. 

“Are you sure you won’t come to Waterdeep?” He ignored her comment. 

“To visit, of course, but I… “ she sighed. “I can’t be your crutch every time you disagree, Star. You two are getting married . You’re going to have to learn to talk it out without me.”

Astarion made a face like he could wretch. “It’s all so new. I’ve never had anyone like this before.”

“You’ll make it work.”

“More than that,” he said. “I’ve never had anyone… to miss.” He scrunched up his face. “I don’t want to say goodbye to you or to Shadowheart or even Halsin.” He drank some whiskey, she suspected he needed something to do besides feel vulnerable. “It’s not just having a… fiance, I have friends . What am I going to do without you?”

“Make new ones?”

“Gods forbid.”

“I get it,” she laughed. “Almost everyone in my life besides mum and Lottie have just passed through. All I’ve ever known is back in some small village no one knows the name of. Now… now everything is just different.”

“If Gale leaves me for Godhood we aren’t staying in some pub,” Astsrion muttered. “We’ll adventure. Go see the world.”

“We still can even if he doesn’t ,” she squeezed his hand again. “But we just saved the world, we deserve some rest. Some time to figure out who we are now.” Tav grinned, “hells, you’re mortal . You still haven’t figured out you need to eat at least three times a day. Take a moment, enjoy it.”

“I keep thinking of Karlach,” he nodded. “All she wanted was this. She’d be furious if we wasted it.”

“And Wyll,” Tav said, “he’d be so happy for us. And so proud of you.”

“Lae’zel would be horrified at the idea of rest and relaxation,” Astarion mused, “all the more reason to do it, I suppose.”

“Keep your daggers sharp in her honor,” Tav shrugged, “she left that damn whetstone. Take it with you, never know when you may need to stab someone.”

“Oh that does sound fun.”

His mirth was back, the mischievous glint in his eye. Gods, she would miss him. 

She lifted her glass, “to friends.”

“Ugh,” he rolled his eyes but clinked his glass to hers. ”if we must.”

The suite was far too big to house what few of them were left. Wyll, Karlach and Lae’zel left so urgently that their stuff was still by their bunks; no one had the heart to go through it yet. With most everyone gone and busy, Tav had taken it upon herself to start. 

Karlach’s best weapon had been on her person, as had her toughest armor. There were a few enchanted weapons left behind but Tav figured Halsin’s group of refugees could make use of them on the road if there was trouble. She saved Clive the Bear, not willing to part with it. There was no part of her that believed they would be stuck in the hells forever, and Tav would be sure to keep Clive safe for Karlach until she got back. Things like spare armor and blankets could be donated or sold. 

It was much the same for Lae’zel, who had no keepsakes from their journey. Which, although was somewhat sad since Tav wanted something to keep of her, made perfect sense for her Gith friend. The only thing Tav felt she should keep was her stuffed trophy heads; the illithid one was particularly important to her, she knew. 

When she made her way over to Wyll’s things it occurred to her that he was the only one who had family to receive left behind belongings. His map of the sword coast was notated, and she found herself delicately rolling it up to keep. Perhaps Shadowheart could make use of it on her travels. He had letters and journals, but it seemed he packed as lightly as the other two. It made sense. He was running around the coast being a hero before the tadpoles got inserted, he would have needed to travel lightly. 

She kept only one of his journals. It included their journey, but she was sure not to read too much of it for the sake of his privacy. The last entry was from the night before the final battle. He had full confidence they would all make it, and that they would be victorious — Tav felt tears sting her eyes. Wyll’s clothes, his tales, his small trinkets could all go to Ulder Ravenguard, but the story of their journey through his eyes she wanted to keep. The book still had empty pages, and she wanted to be able to give it back to him for continuation. 

The scratch of tiny claws on wood grabbed her attention. She looked over to see a rat, scurrying across the room. Despite her first instinct to launch a firebolt in its direction in order to scare it off, she watched as it climbed over to Jaheira’s bunk and deposited a folded up paper. It met her eyes, tilted its head, and then ran away again. Probably a good thing Tav didn’t incinerate it then, it would be hard to explain that she had immolated one of Jaheira’s spies. 

It was welcome, if it was there on Harper business. 

Maybe one day she would have her own informants, Tav found herself thinking. Immediately after she shook her head, she was going back home. She had to go back home. There was no way she could abandon her family again. Last time it had been completely beyond her control, she could never do it of her own volition. 

As if to further prove the point to herself, she set aside the chest of Wyll’s belongings to send off to the Ravenguard estate later and moved toward her own bunk. Unfortunately, she was a bit more of a collector than most of her companions. There was a lot of stuff to go through in her own personal belongings, and the camp chest would also need to be dug through. To her credit, she did try to focus on the task and not let her mind give way to fantasy. But it was not long before the idea of the offer Jaheira had her thoughts running away with excitement. 

A Harper, in Baldur’s Gate, working alongside two legends and a small army of just as heroic everyday people who didn’t want their names in any ballads. Tav could only imagine what she would see and learn as Harper, what places she would go to before returning to the very city which brought her into the world of adventuring. How much good could she do? How much tyranny could she thwart? And all with good friends to come back to. 

In her mind’s eye she could imagine coming home to Rolan and his siblings. Cal and Lia would embrace her, they would trade stories about what they had been up to while she was away. Rolan would wrap her up in his arms, kiss her like she had been gone a hundred years and scold her for any new bumps and bruises and scars she got from playing hero. Oh, and wouldn’t it be so fascinating to have those three on an adventure with her. 

Packing up her things suddenly felt impossible. How could she leave? But she had to. She was sure she had to. 

Looking out of the open window, she caught the glimpse of the tower she could see from there. She looked at it often at night, after everyone was asleep and her mind wandered. Rolan was just there, she could imagine, and then her mind went to imagining what things he could be doing up there alone or with her. It hardly mattered, it was enough to get her through a lonely night. 

With a frustrated huff she closed her trunk and walked away. Nothing would get done while her mind was oscillating between dreams she could never claim and the one person it would be the hardest to say goodbye to. Gods, besides her companions he was the only one who understood what she had been through. The only one who knew her shame and her fears and her flaws and never seemed to let it change how he treated her. A hard earned closeness that was different from the one she had with her traveling group, one that had to be forged by actively choosing vulnerability and trust. 

Thinking of leaving that bond behind, leaving him behind, it made her feel so hollow. 

She needed air. She needed a distraction. Her feet took her down the stairs and out into the street. There were still plenty of books on the hells she could read back at Ramazith’s tower, where her path seemed to be leading her without really thinking. She still had a mind to find something worth reading on infernal engines, even if she could not understand it, maybe she could work with Dammon to find something. Just a few hours of reading, then she would go back and start packing her things. 

Tav waved at Cal behind the counter before making her way up to the portals. Rolan was going to eventually stop using them in favor of the arcane elevator, but for now it was the quickest way to the study. It was empty when she got there, a small pang of disappointment making her sigh before she began looking through some of the books.

There was a loud whoosh and footsteps on the tile. 

“Please, let yourself in, make yourself at home,” Rolan said sarcastically. 

“I always do,” Tav said lightly.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

“I just needed some time out of the Elfsong,” she shrugged. “I was packing and I got overwhelmed.” 

“Packing?” Rolan repeated. There was an unusual look on his face, his jaw working overtime grinding together. It looked painful. “So you’ve decided?”

“Yes,” she said, then reconsidered. “No? I don’t know.” Tav heaved a sigh, “I won’t be going to Waterdeep, that much I know. I could go with Shadow, I suppose but… Jaheira offered me a position in the Harpers, here in Baldur’s Gate. I keep thinking — just can’t get it out of my head. Me , a Harper.” She shook her head in slight disbelief. 

“Seems apt, given your enjoyment of swooping in to save the day.”

“She seems to think so,” Tav said, noticing the abruptness in his tone.  

“So,” he said expectantly, “what do you want to do?”

“I should honestly just,” Tav winced, “go back and take care of mum and Lottie.” 

“I didn’t ask what you should do,” Rolan said harshly. “I asked what you want to do.”

“What I want is hardly the point,” she shook her head. 

“That is entirely the point,” Rolan insisted. “It’s your life, Tav, no one else’s.”

“That’s — why are you getting angry with me?” 

“I’m not,” Rolan bit out. 

“You are,” she frowned

“Don’t tell me how I feel,” he snapped. 

“I — “ she flinched a little at the tone. 

As normal as his tendency towards harshness at her had been once, she had not been faced with it for some time. It hurt. Especially when she had no idea why he was behaving that way. What had she done to make him upset?

At his resounding silence she huffed, “is it because I came up without asking? I just thought —“

“No, that’s hardly it,” he cut her off.  He grimaced slightly, “You’re welcome here anytime.”

“Then what is it?” Another beat of silence. His tail was flicking behind him in sharp movements she knew to be a sign of barely repressed anger. “Okay,” she sighed resignedly, “I’ll leave. I came here to clear my head, not to deal with whatever the hells this mood is.”

Rolan said nothing, a pained look on his face. Tav put the book in her hand away, painfully aware of the silence in the room and the intensity of his gaze on her. Avoiding eye contact she made her way towards the portal through which he just came in. She only made it a handful of steps past him before he spoke again. 

“Don’t go.”

Rolan felt the walls closing in on him. The thought of her packing her things to leave the city behind had created a painful clawing sensation in the center of his chest. He was trying to do what her mother had asked, to let her decide what to do. He had quickly realized that were he to give any input, Rolan would be near begging her to stay. Tatianna was right, Tav should do what she wanted to, and without him being so openly upset at the prospect of her departure. But it had been days of agony keeping quiet as she played with ideas of what she ought to do and what she wanted to do. He was not sure he could contain himself any longer.

“Don’t go.” 

She turned towards him. “If you want to be alone, that’s alright. You don’t have to —“

“No!” He said urgently, he kept cutting her off but she was just not understanding him. And how could she? He had hardly made himself clear. “I mean — don’t leave Baldur’s Gate,” he pleaded firmly, keeping his eyes locked on hers. “I’ll make it so you can visit home whenever you like - I’ll figure something out. Just don’t — Don’t go so far from me.”

Tav’s shock was written on her face. But she did not say anything.

He winced slightly, but his mouth was going before his mind could stop him. “ I think it’s what you want too — I  think you want to join the Harpers: you love stupidly risking your safety to help people and the Harpers will give you that and more. You’re so good at all of this, Tav, you shouldn’t waste it. I may go gray prematurely worrying about you but if that’s the price for you to be here and happy I’ll pay it, with minimal complaining. Only minimal, mind.”

It was a poor attempt at levity since he was completely off his footing, half-ready to scream and unsure what to do since she was just gawking at him. Rolan knew he was neither disarming nor would many find it fit to call him charming, but gods was he trying. 

He barreled on, “I won’t pretend it isn’t selfish of me to tell you stay — I’ve tried to give you space, to keep all of this to myself so you would choose what you wanted but there is no avoiding it: I am in love with you and the thought of you leaving —” He finally cut himself off, forcing a self-deprecating short breath of a laugh when the admission tumbled out of his mouth, “it’s agonizing. I don’t know what spell you’ve put on me but it can’t be avoided any longer. You have to know the truth, or I will never stop thinking about what could have been if I was brave enough to say it.”

“Rolan —“

“It doesn’t even have to be for me, you could tell me to sod off and I’d still think you should take Jaheira’s offer,” he added quickly, not ready to hear a rejection or any kind of let down. “If you force yourself to go back you will regret it. I know it.” He heaved a breath, trying to steady his heart beating so wildly in his chest he could hear nothing but its heavy thumping, “Tav, please, think of yourself just this once”

Rolan felt emboldened now that it was out. There was every chance he had made a fool of himself, she liked him, surely he didn’t doubt that. Love was another thing altogether, he knew. But that was fine. As long as she was happy, he didn’t care if he looked like an idiot.

“Did you just say you’re in love with me?” Tav licked her lips.

“I did - I am,” he shook his head, “I couldn’t hide it, even if I wanted to.” He gestured widely at the study, “I only have any of this because of you, Cal and Lia would have been trapped in Moonrise, I would have been dead on the side of the road.” He swallowed hard, “I really tried to talk myself out of it. You’re nosy, meddlesome, absurdly soft hearted and idealistic not to mention sentimental — I only just learned your full name, and you seem to make it your life’s calling to bother me —“

Tav gave a bewildered breath of a laugh. “Only you could manage to insult me in a moment like this.”

“Sorry,” he said with a wince. Gods, he was horrible at this. 

Tav came up to him, grabbing his hands in hers. All Rolan could do was watch at first, letting her take his hands, the warm glow of hope raging violently in his chest beyond his control. She ran her thumb over the tops of his knuckles, looking at them as she seemed to gather herself and figure out what to say. It was impossible to not bring their joined hands up to his lips, to duck his head and kiss her skin gently. 

“You don’t have to say it back,” he assured her quietly, lips just barely pulling away from where they were pressed against her hand. “I — I couldn’t let you make this choice without knowing the whole truth of it. Whatever you need to lessen the burden, I’ll do it. I swear. Stay, please.” 

The last bit was a truly desperate whisper, but he could never let pride get in the way of saying what he needed to. It was as liberating as it was terrifying, to have it all out. Spurred on by her gentle but firm grip of his hands, and the fact that she was not pulling away: he could not find it in himself to be embarrassed. 

“Are you done ranting at me?” Tav smiled a little.

“I’ve held my tongue for weeks,” he breathed, closing his eyes. 

“I can tell.”

Despite the words her tone held nothing but softness. Even after his fumbling she only met him with gentility and understanding, he could only begin to hope he could strive to deserve her affection. When she pulled one hand away to cup his cheek he sighed, turning his face into her palm. Gods, that alone was enough to satisfy him. Such a soft and gentle touch, enhanced only by her thumb brushing over his cheekbone. He kissed her palm, eyes still closed against the onslaught of comfort and ease her touch inspired in him. Rolan was half certain he was dreaming, that he would wake up and she would still be in her suite at the Elfsong – the entire scene a fanciful imagining. His eyes were still closed when he felt her lips against his, an experimental but firm kiss. He felt a cut off sound leave his throat as he gripped her hand tighter. 

“Say it again,” she whispered against his lips. 

He replied automatically, not needing any clarification on what she needed to hear. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.”

Rolan’s eyes opened abruptly, searching for a hint that she was lying - looking for signs of pitying him or simply appeasing him so as not to hurt him. Instead he just saw her smiling, eyes sparkling with happiness despite the slight bewilderment in her expression, but she was being earnest. Some kind of euphoric urgency took over him, moving him to kiss her. His lips half formed on another apology when their teeth clacked sloppily together, but they found an easy push and pull quickly. 

At first it was just kissing, him pulling her as close as he could, with her tugging at his hair and his tail curling around both of her legs. Despite being pressed directly together, he wanted her closer. His grasp on her was desperate, and frantic. There was the slightest tingle of electricity on her tongue when it touched his for the first time, not enough to be painful but enough to make him exhale in surprise. How excited must she be for her powers to slip like that?

His hands reached to grab at her, cupping her bottom and pulling her closer so her breasts pressed tight against his chest. Tav gave a high pitched noise of surprise and a slight jump. Instantly he pulled his hands away. He was getting far too ahead of himself. 

“I swear I had no other intentions — do you want—? We don’t have to—” he quickly tried to find the right thing to say, sentences stumbling out half formed as he tried to recompose himself. 

“I was just surprised,” she assured him with a soft laugh. 

“I’m sorry — I should ask, I shouldn’t just be pawing at you,” he scolded himself with a wince. 

“What a gentleman,” she teased. There was the slightest hint of mischief in her eyes as she tugged him back to her lips, kissing and then taking at his lower lip gently between her teeth as she pulled away. “Do you want to stop?”

“Gods, no,” he shuddered. 

“Good.”

Tav guided him to step backward, her body pushing his back with small steps and he let her lead. They shuffled backwards until his back hit one of the bookcases. His tail was still wrapped around her legs, tripping her up at the last moment. She fell into him gracelessly, with a squeak and a laugh. He grunted at the wood of the shelf digging into his back with her weight shoved so abruptly into him.

“That’s what I get,” she laughed as she righted herself, “for trying to be some smooth fairytale heroine, whisking her prince off his feet in his high tower.”

Rolan laughed too, cupping her face. “I’m hardly princely.”

“No,” she hummed in agreement as she kissed his jawline, “you’re the grumbling, reluctant damsel, more like.”

“Oh, that’s cruel.” He grinned. 

Using his tail to his advantage, he shifted his body, tugging at the back of her legs as he did. It was hardly seamless, but he managed to spin them so she was now the one with her back pressed into the shelves. Tav had gasped in shock, gripping him tight for fear of falling. Just when she was about to say something, Rolan dove into the crook of her neck. He loved the way she squeaked when his breath tickled the skin of her throat, and the taste of her skin as he dragged his teeth over her, ever mindful of his sharp canines.

“I assure you I’m anything but reluctant.”

She gave a sharp gasp, her grip on his arms tightening, and he felt his confidence soar. Slotting his thigh between her legs, he pressed into her, the evidence of his eagerness already pressed against her stomach. He sucked kisses into the skin of her neck until she tugged at his horns to get him to kiss her again. Her hips rolled, grinding her against his thigh and she gave the slightest whimper. 

Immediately his hands dug into her hips, gently pushing and pulling her over him. Tav broke the kiss, head thunking gently against the books behind her as she tilted her head back with a slack jaw. 

“Good?” He asked. 

“Very.”

It felt like some urgent cannibalistic hunger, the way he wanted to taste her skin, pulling aside her shirt to get more access to her chest. It was messy and intoxicating, as they were grinding against each other against a bookcase in his study, like something out of a dream. And it was tantalizing, the friction between them enough to make them both grunt and moan but not enough to truly satisfy with all the clothes in the way. 

Her shirt was half off, the plain cream bustier she wore exposed and she tugged at the fastenings on his robe. He was hardly going to stop her, only pulling his hands away to shrug it off, leaving him in only a thin sleeveless tunic and his trousers. 

Tav’s hands slid up his bare arms and he shuddered. Such an innocent touch but he was always so covered up, it had been so long, too long, since anyone had seen this much of his skin. He surged forward, hips grinding into hers to roughly it was almost painful. Tav was panting, fingers tugging at the hem of his shirt, he let her remove it and tilted his head back in bliss when she leaned forward to press open mouthed kisses to the skin of his chest. 

Her tongue traced over infernal ridges before sucked at the flat expanse of skin, making his nails dig into her clothing until he felt the fabric split beneath them. Scrambling to pull her tunic off, he was blindly grabbing at her, maybe too roughly, he thought in the back of his mind. But she never winced or flinched from his nails across her skin. When her hand slipped between the waistband of his trousers he gasped, going still at the feel of her hand wrapped around him. 

It was entirely too good, the feeling shooting down his spine, making him throb in her hand. 

“I can just barely see the tower from my room at the Elfsong, you know, just the stained glass windows of the study,” she cooed almost shyly, quite the contrast in tone given the way  she was stroking him, “after everyone goes to sleep, I make myself come — looking at the tower and wishing it were you touching me.”

By the Gods, he nearly finished there in her hand. 

“Zurgan ,” he hissed. “A bed. I need you in a bed.”

“No, next time,” she insisted. “I want you right here.”

In the back of his mind, he knew that if she ever found out he could deny her nothing it would prove to be very troublesome for him. The concept of there being a next time had him momentarily stunned. He barely had time to banish the portal that allowed essentially everyone they knew access to the study before she stopped stroking and started unlacing his trousers enough to pull them down his hips. 

He tugged down the bustier, just as she was slipping off her own pants, only getting one leg truly free before he was on her again. There was too much of her to touch, he wanted to be in between her thighs, he wanted to grab and grope at her breasts, to make her come on his fingers before he took her. 

He didn’t have enough hands. 

Murmuring the spell against the skin of her lips, without warning, two mage hands hovered on either side of him. He had one lift a leg, with her surprised chuckle being drowned out by a kiss while the other slipped the other leg of her trousers and underwear off. When she was naked from the waist down, both mage hands hoisted her up by the thighs, lifting her up against the bookcase so he was at the perfect height to put one of her nipples in his mouth. 

“Show off,” she gasped as he teased the peaked bud with his tongue. 

For the first time, Rolan had the upper hand. 

If Tav was honest, she could do without the foreplay. She felt how wet she was and knew he could slip inside of her easily, but she felt no need to stop him either. The mage hands supporting  her thighs were just corporeal enough for her to feel them holding her, but it still was akin to floating nearly helpless against the onslaught of his attention. His mouth was hot on her breast, tongue moving over her in ways that had her cunt throbbing. 

He only broke away to kiss the soft, pliant swell as she arched her back to press her breasts out towards him. A sharp sting on the flesh of her breast had her hissing slightly, just painful enough to catch her attention as he sucked on the skin.

At the sound she made he unlatched his mouth and murmured something she could still barely hear with him so close, all she caught was,  “…forget myself.”

He kissed the same spot gently, a wordless apology. When he pulled away she was surprised not to see blood, but a shiver of excitement had her rolling her hips when she realized there were indentations of his teeth in her skin. 

All she could do was hold on. One hand gripping the edge of the bookcase, the other firmly wrapped around one of his horns, she was unable to do much else. And he seemed to like it that way as he bit into her skin over and over again. There may be marks on her skin for days, she realized, but it occurred to her that he may have been trying to make sure there was.

Nails dragged down her stomach, just light enough to make her entire body break out in goosebumps, for a moment she saw him sigh at the full bodied shudder it created in her. Without saying anything, he ran his fingers through the hair between her thighs before impossibly warm fingers cupped her cunt. Rolan moaned, the sound muffled by his lips pressed to her chest, before he looked between them. 

He watched, and she felt his fingers spread her lips apart before experimentally rubbing. “You’re so wet,” he whispered. “Gods, you —“

The way he looked down at her while he rubbed his fingers through the slick folds of her made her swallow hard against a needy moan. His pointer finger danced over her clit, and the sharp jolt of sensation had her tugging on his horn in surprise. Her mouth practically began to salivate with the desire for more, and the abrupt reaction seemed to take them both by surprise. 

“You’re going to break my neck, doing that,” he said but he hardly seemed to mind. 

“Sorry,” she breathed, letting go of him and grasping instead at his hair. It was soft, she thought, as it slid easily between her fingers. “Please, don’t stop.”

At first he was slow and gentle, mindful of his nails, feeling out what had her writhing. Tav was certain he was doing it on purpose to tease her, but when she looked down at him he was watching her, intent and focused. Studying. She could have laughed, and made a joke about his studiousness but he found a rhythm and pressure that made her incapable of more than a pathetic whine. 

“Like this?” There was the slightest hint of pleading in his tone, not teasing her but searching for approval.

“Yes,” she quickly said. “Yes, like that, you’re –ah – so good – pulling me apart.” 

Rolan moaned, hiding his face as he leaned forward. The hot swipe of his tongue over one of her nipples made her shudder, his free hand keeping a tight grasp on the other. Despite what he said earlier, there were no complaints when she grabbed one of his horns again, desperately trying to keep him exactly where he was. His eyes flicked up to her face and she felt herself start to tip over the edge. She warned him best she could, moaning out that she was close, pleading with him not to stop.

For the first time since they had met, he heeded her orders without complaint. Twitching she felt the wave of anticipation crest and crash, her skin warm and thrumming with each heavy roll of her hips against his fingers. Giddiness bubbled up in her, a sense of satisfaction that had been lacking when she touched herself making her so thoroughly pleased that she could have started to giggle. 

Rolan slowed his fingers at a sharp jerk of her hips, her clit sensitive and cunt twitching. “Too much?”

“Need more,” she breathed, tilting his head up so she could lean down and kiss him. “Want you inside of me.”

A full body shudder passed over him. The mage hands lowered her enough that she could meet his lips easier, and the ridged length of his cock rubbed against her. They both moaned into each other’s mouths at the sensation. His magic did most of the work to keep her up but she tilted her hips still as he rubbed against her, his forehead pressing against hers as he panted. 

“I’ve wanted — “ he started, “I’ve wanted this so badly,” he breathed, “can hardly believe it’s real.” He laughed a little, “you love me?”

“I do,” she breathed. “I love you. I’m staying. I’m here.”

Rolan slipped inside of her, a slow but steady push with a little resistance that had her eyes rolling back a little. The last time she had anyone inside of her was a one night stand on the road months before being taken by the nautiloid, the stretch at first was overwhelming. Rolan seemed to be in a similar state of being overtaken by the sensation, his hips pressed hard against hers as he started to pant against her. For a moment, his hips were only twitching as if on some uncontrollable instinct and when he started to move consciously he thrust slowly, and evenly; brows drawn together and upwards in a quiet reverie. 

“Is this okay?” He whispered. 

“It’s perfect.” She said back.

He buried his face in her neck, breath tickling her sweat sticky skin. Pressed so close to her she could feel the ridges on his skin, and see the freckles that painted his shoulders. Her arms were wrapped around him, legs doing the same, ankles resting on the base of his tail. At the pressure he whined, and she shivered at the sound. 

The slap of their bodies made the books behind her shake, the sound of their skin colliding echoing slightly off the vaulted ceiling. The sun was going down, its light shining through the windows in a technicolor glow that made the entire place look hazy like a dream. But the weight of his body against her was so real, she was in a state of rhapsody, torn between the illusory feel of the room and floating by the mage hands with his very tangible body pressing into her. 

When she came to the tower that day she hardly expected it to end up like this: Rolan laying his heart out for her and eagerly offering hers in return. Only to end with her back pressed into a bookcase with him rutting into her. His thrusts were becoming more urgent, his hand coming away from the needy embrace to grip the side of her head and guide her to kiss him again.

“I want you to co - fuck- come with me,” he grunted out, “ please .”

Tav felt her cunt clench around him, her body threatening to let the waves of another orgasm flow over before she could stop it. She loved him like this, raw and open. The feeling must have been too much for Rolan, his sudden expression of awe making him slack jawed. But it also broke his concentration. 

The mage hands disappeared, dropping Tav so suddenly she almost didn’t get her legs underneath her in time. Luckily, Rolan shoved forward keeping her upright against the bookcase, as she found her balance. He had slipped out of her, and the shock of the near fall made her giggle slightly. 

“I’m sorry,” he said with a self-deprecating smile and a wince. “You — I can focus on nothing else when you’re near.”

“Don’t apologize.” She kissed him. “You’ve been doing all the heavy lifting, lay down.”

Rolan tugged her hand so she came down with him, and she straddled his hips as she removed her bustier. It was only fair she removed his trousers past where they had settled on his hips in their haste. Both fully naked in the rainbow glow of the stained glass windows, she climbed on top of him. Tav rubbed herself over his ridged cock, breath catching as she did. Her mind conjured up the idea to simply  grind against him like this until he spilled all over his stomach and the friction against her clit made her see stars. 

But Rolan’s nails dug into the flesh of her hips, a gentle bite of pain, and he sucked in a sharp breath when she planted her hands on his chest. She needed him inside of her, and she knew he felt the same.

Lifting her hips, lining him up again, Tav sank down. Full once again, she sighed happily as Rolan’s head tilted back, eyes closed while his hips tried to thrust up into her slightly. Giving him what he wanted, she started an easy rhythm up and down. It was satisfying to a point that nearly scared her, his length rubbing so sweetly inside of her and hitting her at a truly sinful spot in the new position. 

When Rolan looked at her again, his sharp teeth were worrying at his lower lip, needy little grunts escaping him. One of his hands came up to grab at her breasts, bouncing with each of her movements. The other dipped between them, rubbing over her clit making her lose her pace for just a moment before she chased the sensation further. 

“Beautiful,” he grunted out, “so fucking beautiful, Tav.”

“Gods,” wass as all she could utter as body grew tense and her mind blanked out to anything but chasing the high that was quickly approaching. 

“I won’t last — “ he warned. Shaking his head, eyes full of awe. “You’re — I’m going to —“

“Fuck, Rolan,” she gasped. 

He toppled over first; hips thrusting upwards harshly, making Tav lose her balance. She tipped forward onto his chest, just as quickly feeling his arms come around to hold her close. She ground out her own release, the ridges of his skin seeming to do just as much towards stimulating her clit while he pulsed inside her. Tav hit her peak with abrupt intensity, and she heard her moans echo off the high ceilings until they deteriorated into truly pathetic whines against his skin, as she rode her orgasm out as long as she could. 

“Oh, oh ,” Rolan choked, the sensation of her clenching around him making his eyes shut at the overstimulation after his release. 

“You okay?” she murmured, going to lift herself off him. 

“Yes,” he tightened his grip on her. “D-don’t move, please.”

For a while it was still, as they caught their breath. Tav was a little nervous whatever bubble they had created was going to burst as their bodies calmed down. She felt him lift his head and press a kiss atop her head, fingers dancing over her back.  

“I was here when the nautiloid got me,” Tav said quietly. “Just another passing traveler in a city of more faces than I had ever seen in one place.” She lifted her head to look at him, leaning into the hand that came up to her cheek. “Do you believe in fate?”

“Not particularly,” he said. 

“Me neither,” she smiled. “But it’s strange isn’t it? I’ve come full circle, and… what were the odds of me finding you time and time again?”

“The gods did do me the greatest favor ,” he murmured, “keeping me intertwined with your madness.”

“Don’t give them the credit,” she said. “It had to be something more.”

“More than the gods?” Rolan’s lips quirked up. 

“Yes,” she nodded. “They’ve never done me any favors.”

“Don’t go inciting any more godly intervention, my dear,” he rumbled. “I’ve just gotten you exactly where I want.”

“Naked on the floor of your study?”

“Yes,” he said with pure self-satisfaction. “One of my many  achievements, having the hero of the city whining my name.”

“Oh you’re going to be insufferable about this,  aren’t you?”

“Of course I am.” He grinned. “I am the master of a world famous tower, a wizard of great renown — as I predicted — and now have the object of all my desires right on top of me.”

“I’ll have to get creative about keeping you humble,” she laughed. 

“I can’t wait to see what you come up with.”

“We should start now,” Tav licked her lips, “I think you mentioned something about a bed?”

Thank you for reading!

[argreion]

𝑵𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒆❜𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 — For my first 'getting good at writing by writing at least 500 words a day' training, we got Leon with a dog! Not just a dog, but basically getting a dog. Please, don't look up the dog breed. I laughed writing half of this because I couldn't help but think about Leon and Noodle. Holding 'em up and going, 'Can't you see we're related?'. The Leon in mind is RE2, btw!

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 900

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — Ball talk, ok? Dirty jokes, undertones, whatever. I wanted to be a little silly willy.

“How about we get a dog?” Your boyfriend, Leon, offered. Pulling your attention away from the dogs towards a small puppy in a cage. Acting like a little ball of sunshine—just like a certain soon-to-be owner.

Your footsteps clicked against the laminate flooring. Joining him in front of the cage he was talking about. A sweet little Chinese Terrier with a wagging tail. Jumping against the metal, it stared up at Leon. It looked a little… diseased—didn’t all dogs with their beady eyes, though? Messy bangs, skinny, and weirdly half-naked.

It felt like they had a connection, watching as Leon crouched down. Pushing his finger through the bars to which the dog bit. Giving a playful tug and growl against the flesh. Violent for a small thing that is supposed to be the savior of dysfunctional families.

While Leon was occupied ‘playing’ (getting his finger eaten alive) you looked at its name, age, and the little fun fact. Growling in the background and Leon’s laughter accompanying it.

Noodle – 9 months – Fun Fact: I like balls! <3

Oh geez, balls? Especially with a heart beside it? What are they trying to advertise? That’s horrible. A snort came from you, drawing Leon away from his playtime. Oblivious to what was going through your mind.

“What's so funny?’’ Leon asked, moving over to see what made you snort. Perplexed as he read a little about me. Mentally groaning at how sweet words could be turned perverse.

“I don't get it…” He muttered, face contorting into a small pout. Bless his innocence, made you want to cackle.

“I like balls?” You let the words fall from your lips, hoping he'd realize the undertone. He didn't, he just stood there, confused, still. Knock-off statue.

This boy was hopeless, rubbing your face as you sighed. Dense he was, but you liked it about him. Made him adorable, like the puppy in the cage he was playing with.

“You wanna get Noodle? Spitting image of father and son.”

The man rubbed his chin, biting his lip as he thought about this. It was small, a puppy, and seemed nice. Maybe needed to lay off the gnawing and biting, but he liked Noodle. Son-like-father with that haircut.

“Yeah,” Leon responded with a nod, “Let's get Noodle.” 

Getting a worker was fairly easy, with a small wave and conversation. Going through adopting a dog and all the warnings, dog beds, food, puppy pads, you name it. Tedious at best, but Leon seemed surprisingly fine. Content to have a dog, even if he was mostly busy with work. Going from tazing a crackhead that ran to lying on a couch with a half-naked ball of violence. (You wished he didn't choose a dog that looked like Noodle, it was cute just… Ew. Prayed your friend wouldn't send you to the Nine Hells for that thought.)

In the end, you're left with a dog in your hands. Lapping at your fingers as you walked towards Leon's Jeep. Leon being chivalrous enough to carry bags was a blessing. Setting them in the backseat while you situated your newfound puppy.

Leon couldn't help but smile for two reasons—one a new friend, and two what he planned later in his head. Sure, he seemed harmless, but behind every seemingly good man was a monster. His monster being what happened in bedrooms, depraved bastard. At least he had the morals not to be a corrupt cop.

“Y'know…” He started, leaving the words on his tongue for a second, “I know someone else who likes balls.”

The clogs turned in your head before your face burned. Steam wanting to come out of your ears at such words. Felt like the Windows blue screen of death with how he was staring at you. Clever bastard for a guy with a baby face.

You brushed it off, getting into the Jeep's passenger seat, and brushing your clothes off as you sat down.

“No response?” Leon laughed, shutting the door as he got inside. Fishing his keys out of his pocket to start the engine. Right before turning the key clockwise, he met your gaze.

“Would love it if you take care of mine, they're a little lonely.”

Disgusting, foul, loathsome—shut him up please before he gets popped across the face. If he wanted to be dirty, he should've saved it for the bedroom. The man babbled and flushed when put on the spot. Staring at your lover’s nude body.

Your finger looped with his shirt, pulling him close. Seeing the sweat on his neck and the gulping of his Adam's Apple—the boy thought he was smart. Dead fucking wrong.

“You think you're so fuckin' smart, huh? All cutesy and innocent but a depraved, pervert underneath it?” Such a hostile response left him wide-eyed, a poor deer in the headlights. Growing compliant and also aroused by such roughness. Words caught in his throat.

“Fuck around and find out, little boy.”

You followed your hostility up with something that could be considered kinky. Giving the corner of his lips a small lick, tongue flat against the moisturized skin. Before a butterfly kiss on his lips. Shoving him back into his seat as you pretend none of it happened—to forget your stupidity.

He didn't forget, and neither did he forget the ache in his boxers. Nor would the traumatized dog in the backseat watching his parents act like horny, repressed teenagers.

Tomorrow's is gonna be ball worship fyi, I wanted to do it for awhile haha. A few moots better get me on my ball train (and pull me the hell off.)

[yonemurishiroku]

All the ways Hades can do to look after his son

I know, I know, Yone you’ve rambled enough about Hades and Nico, yes I’m aware. Too bad I don’t care. It’s not like I haven’t claimed that I’m unhealthily obsessed with this underworld father-son duo.

So here’s how I picture every little thing Hades does to make sure he’s a part of Nico’s life. (Some of them is in my Immortal Nico AU, the rest might or might not. Idk)

- Hades definitely has a sort-of soul-link to Nico and Hazel. A thread. A guiding light. His death radar is top tier ofc because duh? But when it comes to Nico and Hazel, Hades/Pluto has this constantly present connection, by which he can actually zero in on their life forces effortlessly: every fluctuation, every beat, every up and down they make - he can feel them all.

Hades feels them walk the earth, hears Nico swiftly melt in and out of a shadow, knows Hazel just opens a new cave underground - their heartbeats a sweet, sweet tingling melody in his mind.

He’s the first to be alerted when there’s something wrong with their well-being.

He would definitely know if Nico just suddenly mysteriously disappears from the earth.

- Hades doesn’t keep track of where Nico goes to - bc he values personal privacy, thank you - yet when the need arises and with a bit of concentration, he can pinpoint his son’s destination easily enough - provided that there’s no divine intervention.

(And if that happens he flips)

- He greets Nico with a soft ‘Welcome back, son’ every time he visits and a “Well done, Nico” when he returns from a mission/ errand.

- They fight, of course. Children and parents fight all the time, more so when you have… rocky history and both of you are somewhat socially dysfunctional. When it happens, Hades resorts to asking Hestia for help. She’s always happy to share her advices and insights, bless her heart. And although every god has their ego, Hades is willing to be gentle and patient to Nico.

He had been harsh enough on him during all those teenage years.

- Zagreus always takes Nico’s side, btw. Why, you ask? Because I say so.

- He gives Nico black cards (plurals because I can’t let go of Nico di Angelo fanning himself with a set of credit cards like a spoiled little prince he is) with unlimited balance. Hades keeps track of the transactions, though.

Nico doesn’t spend much except for a few Happy Meals here and there. He isn’t the type to go around wasting money for unnecessary luxuries since he lived through the Great Depression. So while Hades doesn’t mind how much Nico spends, he does notice when there’s a suspicious purchase and would check in, just in case.

- Hazel has a few, too. She rarely uses it since she doesn’t go out of New Rome so usually as Nico travels around.

- Hades also gets Nico a mobile phone (it’s canon btw). And a tablet, the same one Thanatos uses. Because you can’t keep track of hundreds of souls by only your mind.

- And thus I say Nico is not tech-inexperienced because he is the first one to actually get his hands on his own electronic devices. He can play a game on his tablet just fine though only in the underworld.

- Weekly calls!!! Actually it’s only Zagreus, just because he’s stubborn, much to Nico’s annoyance. Hades calls monthly for catch up.

They rarely use IM but instead have this special underworld network, which is installed on a Smart TV in the Hades cabin and Nico’s cellphone (don’t ask). So this time a demigod just walks in on Nico reluctantly sighing in front of his TV “Yes Zag, I’d show you around when you come” or “You tell Melinoe to stop then I’ll be there on family dinner”, with either Zagreus of Hades on the wide screen.

- They text. It’s canon (technically).

- In case of urgency and importance, Hades sends a ghost to deliver his messages.

Hence, there’s this frequent scene in which Nico is saying something and abruptly shuts up before turning away, his eyes widen as he stares at the air. Then, after a few seconds, he just nods and waves his hands, “Alright, I’ll be there soon”.

“Sorry, Dad called!” and there he goes.

- His birthday presents get more and more meaningful as years pass and Nico grows up. They’re still weird, though, like this time Nico woke up to a freaking big black ram sniffing his hair - Hades’ equivalent of a puppy. He must have thought Nico’d want one since Cerberus can’t leave the Underworld and Mrs. O’Leary is technically Percy’s.

To others, the ram is indifferent at best and downright hostile at worse, yet is pretty clingy and protective of Nico. She might or might not understand what Nico says so he rambles to her anyway. Her hair is fluffy and warm, he enjoys taking naps with her.

(- Hades makes sure Hazel gets her birthday presents too, despite having to send it through Nico)

- On Maria’s and Bianca’s death anniversary, Hades resurfaces and together, they visit their graves then have lunch in the di Angelo residence. As Nico talks about his newly-gained memories, Hades shares his own reminiscence.

Maria’s grave is located in Italy so they basically jump continents (and an ocean) in one day for their beloved woman and girl of their lives.

- On other special occasions, Persephone takes them out on a low-key family vacation - just because the goddess wants to show off the new flower species she creates and Nico knows she wouldn’t use magic on him as Hades is there and she’s in good mood.

Nico always comes back from those days struggling to hold freaking huge bouquets in his arms, a flower crown resting on his head. His death aura is gone and he smells like… well, flowers. The Demeter cabin laughs at him.

- He makes sure to share Hazel, too. Both the Hades cabin and the Pluto shrine smell and look like flower shops until the following week but Nico dares not to tell Persephone to stop.

- When Nico actually takes it on himself to come back to school, Hades gives him the best tutors he can find amongst the remaining souls. So Nico has 1-on-1 classes in Elysium (bc the palace is too dark and gloomy for studying, and not so ideally for biology) regularly until he finishes the high-school curriculum.

He checks in with the tutors, btw. I mean like how an actual, authentic parent would talk to their children’ teachers. Nico always feels surreal and awkward every time he has to attend those… parent meetings.

- “I wonder which university I should attend…” “What’s there to fret? It’s not like you wouldn’t be able to afford a life if your major turns out to be useless.”

- Pampered-rich-kid-with-his-billionaire-dad energy. Damn I want one too.

- Hades takes his parenting seriously. It’s truth. It’s canon. I refuse to believe otherwise. Argue to the walls.

In conclusion, Hades loves Nico dearly and this is the hill I will die on.

This father-son duo is so wholesome yall every time I think of them I just cry in happiness.

I’d like to add more but the time’s up and my headache is killing me. Please gods bless me with dreams of this sweet, sweet, precious father-son love.

[gomensbrainrotsyndrome]

I'm back with another aria! (Sorry, I think my opera singer is peeking through... actually no, I'm not sorry about that at all). You gave me permission to come at you with classical music, so here we are >:)

This one needs a translation, so this ask going to be rather long. Also, I feel like I should provide context, because it's too funny if you think about it long enough/too long.

So, the aria is Agathe's scene/aria "Wie nahte mir der Schlummer ... Leise, leise" from Der Freischütz by Carl Maria von Weber. It’s in German, so here is my best attempt at a translation of the weird ass grammar in this aria (I'll add a short summary of the opera afterwards, there definitely is a 1941 thing going on here):

How did slumber approach me before I saw him.

Yes, love tends to go hand in hand with grief. Does the moon laugh (as in shine) over his path? What a beautiful night!

Softly, softly, my devout tune, fly up towards the circle of stars. Song, resound, celebrating my prayer may waft to the heavenly hall.

Oh, how bright the golden stars! With what pure light they glow! Only there, by the distant mountains, a storm seems to be brewing. There, by the forest, a host of dark clouds is floating, dull and heavy.

To you I turn my hands, Lord without beginning and without end. To protect us from dangers, send your angelic hosts!

Everything is at rest. Beloved friend, why do you delay? Even if my ear eagerly listens, only the pine is rustling. Only the birch's leaves in the grove whisper through the serene silence. Only nightingale and cricket seem to enjoy the night air.

But how? Is my ear not deceiving me? There, it sounds like footsteps, there from amidst the pines, something emerges - It's him! The flag of love may stream! Your girl is awake even in the night!

He doesn't seem to see me yet.

God, if the moonlight doesn't deceive me, flowers adorn his hat! Certainly! He did the best shot! That means good fortune for tomorrow!

Oh, sweet hope! Newly revived courage!

All my pulses beat, and the heart is beating brashly, sweetly delighted towards him!

Is it not deceit? Is it not delusion? Heaven, accept the tears of gratefulness for this favour of hope!

And here is the promised summary:

Agathe is the forester's daughter. She and Max are engaged, but he is only allowed to marry her if he wins a shooting contest to prove that he is capable of taking over her father's business. He's a good marksman, but lately, he's been too nervous to land his shots (yes, this opera can be read as a metaphor for erectile dysfunction. No, I did not make that up). So, he strikes a deal with a demon, Samael: he gets seven bullets that will always find their target.

The catch Samael doesn't tell him about: the first six will hit whatever Max wants them to. The seventh one though will hit what Samael chooses.

The next day, the day of the contest, arrives, and Max wins. With only one bullet left, he wants to shoot a dove in celebration. However, Samael chooses Agathe as his target. But, by the power of being a Good Girl (tm), she miraculously escapes (no, I did not make that up, either. She's literally too good and too pious to be hit by the devil's bullet. Also she got a blessing from a hermit).

In the end, the hermit appears and tells her dad to stop it with the contests, poor boy was so under pressure he literally couldn't shoot without help from the devil. And it was a dumb tradition, anyway.

Max and Agathe are allowed to marry, everyone's happy, the end.

The aria is set while Max is in the woods making his deal with Samael. Agathe sits at home, waiting for him, because he said he'd go practice and then come back and visit her.

Have fun with this one!

Don’t know about that summary and it is literally about other blorbos BUT lyrics wise this serves up all the good gomens flavour like heaven lord even a nightingale, the pining’s real good, i suppose the bullet thing is 1941-ish, excellent submission overall!

[aliceindaisychains999]

Compatibility Matchup: Dr. Edward Richtofen (Primis) and @mrs-spengler

This is the first time Richtofen ever had a case of love at first sight. He tried to play it cool but he just couldn’t bear to bottle up his feelings any longer!

He finds you to look absolutely endearing. He adores your freckles and the way your hair is styled. It’s become habit to pepper your face in kisses! Also, being a bit taller at 5’6, he loves to rest his head over your shoulder sometimes. Edward also finds your figure to be quite beautiful and always reminds you by holding you close whenever he can

The way you pronounce the letter “s” is very sweet to him. He tends to pronounce it the same way sometimes.

WUNDERBAR!!! Another person dedicated to science! He will be more than happy to help you in your studies if need be. Perhaps you could even be a qualified lab assistant? His work may have been more based on chemistry/physics, but he is still a doctor!

Edward doesn’t know much about criminology (aside from Alcatraz for many personal reasons). However, he’s quite curious about what you know. Expect many in-depth questions about specific cases and the forensics involved

He’d be more than willing to come out of his shell and sweep you into a slow dance. I can see you both dancing to something sweet like Ella Fitzgerald or any Sinatra-style jazz. He is amazed how well you dance when it’s not slow! Don’t tell him I think he dances like an old German Grandpa trying to keep up with you😭

Oh my! So many animals! He hopes you can introduce him to every one of them! Eddie also vows to be a good pet parent with you and remain attentive to their needs too.

“Darling, you are not a burden. You are the one who’s made my life such a blessing.” This is very true. You may not believe it, but nobody has ever made him feel so hopeful in a very long time. He is lost without you and wants to erase any of that doubt you may feel. In fact, with the similarities that remind him of himself, he for once may be having a moment of true empathy.

He knows how it feels to make mistakes. In fact, he’s honestly lost track of how many things he’s done. But you are truly a good soul. He knows that you are not only trying, but you’re going above and beyond. He will always reassure you of the good deeds that outweigh it all.

If you feel stressed from an incoming mood swing, he’ll be sure to do whatever it takes to help you. If you need a shoulder to cry on, he’s by your side. If you’re full of anger, squeeze his hand and rant ‘till your heart’s content. If you need a moment to breathe, he’s on standby around the corner until you are ready to run into his arms and you can both talk about what happened.

ADHD can be frustrating, especially if executive dysfunction occurs. He understands your frustration and will do his best to lift some chores off of your shoulders and do his best to gently nudge you back into focus if need be. Everything you have to passionately say he will gladly listen. He is a very gentle man, after all. If anyone else gives you a hard time about it though? Well, let’s hope they enjoy the wrath of Dr. Richtofen!

Because you won The Doctor’s heart, he will move mountains for you. Edward is your lover and protector. He has fallen so deep that he just knows he’ll do whatever it takes to make things work. For the good moments and the bad, you are worth it all, mäuschen. You are too precious to lose.

[lagomort]

im very intrigued about hatoful boyfriend lore because i have a friend whos really into it and i wanna support them in that

id also really like to hear whatever info you want to throw at me :) (if u vibe with it)

Today I have been fed.

I'll just stick mostly with Shuu for now since he is just... so much. He's so much. When I said his life was a shitshow I truly did mean it.

Long, LONG post under the cut. And spoilers, obviously.

On a basic level this world is a world where a new insanely deadly bird flu (H5N1) popped up and started killing humans en masse. Scientists developed a virus to attempt to wipe out the birds and save humanity, but it backfired and ended up making the birds (primarily doves) intelligent to a human level. Humans and birds went to war for thirty years and humans lost, presumably mostly because of the fact that the birds still carried and spread this bird flu. So basically the only humans that are still alive are humans who have a natural immunity to this bird flu, and they tend to live at the fringes of society.

In terms of bird politics, there’s the Dove Party who wants to make peace with the humans, and the Hawk Party who want to get rid of them entirely. That’s kind of the general political spectrum - there’s another party, the Crow Party, but we don’t really know much about them and they thus aren’t really relevant.

Yes, the pigeon game is post-apocalyptic. Yes, it rules.

Shuu Iwamine's place in this is... a lot. Bear with me.

(The birds all have human faces and this is his. Bless his heart and his hair ribbon.)

He was born Utsuro Ichijou - the Ichijou family being extremely rich and a pretty big political deal heavily implied to be aligned with the Hawk Party. His family so thoroughly neglected him that when a building he and his parents were in was blown up by a human extremist group, resulting in several permanent injuries and the deaths of both of his parents, he:

1. genuinely couldn't remember his own name without having to think about it because he was called it so infrequently.

2. felt only relief that they were never going to be around again.

3. had absolutely no resentment for the humans whatsoever.

The injuries in question are extreme muscular weakness and loss of fine motor control on his right side, and a complete loss of colour vision except for the colour red. He’s also blind as a bat without his glasses, a la Velma. It’s very funny.

He was four at the time this accident happened. It's very important to remember that he is a bird if you actually look at the dates involved here, which I try so very hard not to.

(As an aside, one of the characters in the game basically states outright at one point that despite the birds now being hyper-intelligent, they still mature at the same rate as they previously did - being sexually mature at the age of one, for example. However this game is well and truly ridiculous about this fact. Nothing about ages makes sense from any angle. Characters are in high school at 15 despite presumably having had emotional and physical maturity since age 1, and not actually having the full lifespan of a human despite their increased intelligence. It’s even a plot point that one of the romanceable characters is sad because the main human character you play as will vastly outlive him. Just... roll with it.)

He shortly after the accident gave all his inheritance money to his family and disappeared, reappearing under the name Souma Isa (at the ripe old age of nine) to join an extremist faction of the Hawk Party, the Earth Crawlers. In the case of the part of it Shuu joined, they’re basically scientific researchers in all kinds of fields doing weird unethical science. While not everyone associated with them is evil, they are on the whole developing weapons of all kinds to be used against humanity.

This is where he meets the man (pigeon, I guess, but stay with me here) who will accidentally ruin his whole entire life.

Ryuuji Kawara is a very nice man and also a very terrible man. On one hand for a brief time he made Shuu’s life better and he genuinely was well-meaning, and on the other hand he is a comically absent father and husband. He’s a genius and also a complete moron. He’s a man of opposites.

It’s canonical that the only reason he was working with the Earth Crawlers is because they were the only ones who would give him the grant money he needed, with no actual grudge against humanity. So that’s nice, at least.

He was the leader of the First Life Science Research Division (LiSciRe), a biological research division that Shuu ended up in after joining the Earth Crawlers. While working under him Shuu was frequently frustrated by his strange, whimsical attitude, but grew to care for him on an extremely deep level. Ryuuji taught him the elements of how to be a person that his parents never had, and was intelligent enough that it was easy for Shuu to listen to and respect him. He brought Shuu presents from his business trips and sent him postcards. He made sure he ate when he forgot.

He probably taught Shuu some bad habits like neglecting himself in favour of his work, but on the whole what Ryuuji was to him was a wholly positive influence. Despite the wiki’s insistence that it’s up for interpretation whether Shuu’s affection for him was romantic, it is very obvious to me that it is.

Especially given the bird he is, the chukar partridge, is a bird that symbolizes intense and often unrequited love.

And then... well.

Ryuuji died.

Ryuuji travelled to an island on a field expedition and became ill whilst there, withering away and dying shortly after his return, but not before doing something exceptionally selfish. He admitted that he neglected his family while he was alive, especially his son Ryouta, and asked Shuu to do something for Ryouta in his stead. He specified that Shuu didn’t have to go out of his way to do it, but this was still a case of someone absolving himself of his neglect by giving it to someone else. Admittedly done on his deathbed in the throes of a wasting disease, but still something he really should not have done.

Shuu is two things. The first is very literal. The second is extraordinarily devoted. Ryuuji probably knew the first, but not the second.

Shuu does not take all of this well, to put it lightly.

When Ryuuji finally passed away, Shuu didn’t attend the funeral - he went straight back to work on the day of it. When asked if he knew what he was supposed to be doing ‘at a time like this,’ he responds:

You can spot the moment where his heart breaks in half, etc. etc. But this is also the moment that really encapsulates Shuu as a person. Being so neglected and so out of touch with his own feelings from a young age means that he doesn’t understand himself or other people. He has to be taught things from the ground up that other people know intuitively. He’s grieving but he doesn’t know how it’s dealt with, so he deals with it by doing the exact same thing he’s always done - pushing it aside and never consciously returning to it. But unlike his parents, Ryuuji is going to haunt him for a long, long time.

Shuu, keeping his promise to Ryuuji, does go to find Ryouta. And that’s where everything kind of just completely falls apart.

But... hey, you know what? I think I’ll leave this here for now since this post took me such an insane amount of time to write and I want to get back to you in a somewhat timely manner. There’s a lot more to cover in this man’s Insane Life. Send me another ask if you’re interested in hearing more about this! I love to regurgitate nonsense about this weird, weird pigeon game.

[witcher-and-his-bard-archive]

The Way I Am

Pairing: Geralt x Jaskier Warning(s): virgin!geralt, loss of virginity, erectile dysfunction Rating: explicit

Summary: Geralt doesn't think anyone could ever want him because he can't perform sexually, Jaskier makes a point of proving him wrong.

Geralt has never been wholly comfortable with his body. It was essentially created to kill monsters and survive and for no other purpose and it does its job, but Geralt doesn't like it. And not only because now that he's older it's covered in scars and his left knee has never been the same since the injury, but his body doesn't function normally. He's not supposed to be human, not any longer, but he hates that his heartbeat is so slow, hates that he can't turn off the hypersensitivity when he's in a crowd. 

But the second round of trials brought with them an additional problem that he doesn't share with the others. When he was younger, it was his hair that bothered him the most, that set him apart even from the other Witchers who shared the rest of his maladies, but as he grew his hair became the least of his problems.

Geralt was fourteen when he realized his cock didn't work the same as everyone else's. Which is to say, it didn't work at all.

It wasn't unusual for the boys to mess around with one another; they were all learning and developing and with the heightened senses it could be a lot. But Geralt never had before and the very first time it went… badly. The other boy had been confused as to why he couldn't get hard and when Geralt had continued to struggle, the other boy eventually tired of waiting and went off to find someone else.

It hadn't meant much at the time, but Geralt had continued to dwell on it, thinking about the look on the other boy's face, how wrong it had made him feel. He hadn't tried again after that, afraid to face the same confusion and rejection a second time, afraid to even share his secret with those closest to him. Eskel, he's sure, wouldn't care that he was broken, but Geralt wasn't willing to take that chance.

So when they set out on the Path, Geralt makes a point to avoid sex in any context, bottling up the need when it arises and focusing on his job above anything else. He knows no one will want him because he has nothing to offer them in bed and that's just something he has to live with. But he still feels the need, still desires a soft touch, but even that seems beyond his reach because he's a Witcher and people have little love for Witchers.

Then, he meets Jaskier who is both a blessing and a curse. Because Jaskier is soft and sweet and beautiful and treats Geralt like he's no different than anyone else, but Jaskier is also stunningly beautiful and Geralt longs to get his hands on him. But he knows how that would end, so he keeps him at arm's length, and still, Jaskier just continues traipsing around after him. He takes his leave on occasion, but never longer than a few weeks at a time before he's bounding back into Geralt's life with some new wonderful thing to tell him about.

And Geralt, regrettably, falls hard.

He can't tell Jaskier how he feels because he knows the second they fell into bed together, the whole thing would fall apart. Because no one wants someone who can't perform and at this point, Geralt is so inexperienced, he'd be embarrassed to even consider sleeping with someone, even someone as caring as Jaskier.

So he keeps his feelings to himself for years, suffering through Jaskier's failed relationships and many more dalliances in between. And he tells himself he's okay with it because he could never be what Jaskier wants anyway. Then one night, they're in the city for a festival. Jaskier is performing and between sets he's ducking back to their table, chatting away happily with Geralt and sharing drinks with him. And by the end of the night, they're both a little drunk.

So when Jaskier saunters up and climbs into his lap, Geralt doesn't stop him. Because Jaskier's hands feel good on him and he so rarely gets to indulge in even the faintest of touches. Jaskier's sitting back, smiling at him as he twists his fingers through Geralt's hair and then he gently tips forward, pressing their foreheads together.

"Geralt?" he breathes, "Can I kiss you?"

Everything in him screams no because he can't let himself have this little bit of Jaskier and then never again, but he's already come this far. So he nods, slips a hand up around the back of Jaskier's neck and pulls him close.

And Jaskier's mouth slides against his own like it was meant for it, soft and needy and he doesn't seem to care that Geralt is a little out of his depth. He guides him, showing him how to move and Geralt copies Jaskier's motions as well as he can, licking lightly into his mouth and nibbling on his lip.

Jaskier moans against him, sliding forward so their bodies are pressed together, fingers tangling in his hair and tugging and oh he likes that. But then Jaskier pushes further, sliding a hand down Geralt's chest and pressing against his crotch, and Geralt panics.

He shoves him away without thinking, sitting back in his seat, and when he looks up Jaskier looks hurt and confused. And Geralt knows he can't tell but he doesn't know what to say to him, so he pushes himself up and hurries away, making for their room.

He shuts the door and locks it behind him, stripping out of his outer layers and curling up in the bed. He knows Jaskier will be back before too long or if Geralt's lucky, he'll find someone else's bed to sleep in tonight and Geralt won't have to worry about him until the morning.

But it isn't long before Geralt hears the clink of a key in the hole and the door pushing open into the room. He doesn't look up and he doesn't move from his spot on the bed, but he listens to Jaskier. The door shuts and Jaskier crosses to the other side of the room, carefully undressing, but what Geralt isn't expecting is to hear the sound of his footsteps coming back toward him. Then the blankets are pulled back and a gust of cold air hits his back before Jaskier climbs up into bed with him.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, reaching out and tentatively brushing his fingers along Geralt's back. "I didn't mean to push, I thought it would be okay."

"It's fine," Geralt whispers.

"Obviously not, darling or you wouldn't have pulled away like that. I don't mind."

"It is," Geralt insists, "I… like when you touch me."

"Okay. What was bad about tonight, then?" Geralt just groans into his pillow, pulling it up around his face. One of Jaskier's hands comes up to settle on his arm and he leans up over him. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. But you can, Geralt. You can talk to me about anything."

"It's just," he pauses, curling his fingers around the edge of the pillow in frustration. "I'm… broken." Immediately, he can feel Jaskier's despair and he doesn't know what else to say, he doesn't want to make it worse.

"You're not, love."

"I am," he snaps, frustrated by Jaskier's continued gentleness. "My fucking prick doesn't work, Jaskier."

"Oh," Jaskier says quietly and Geralt wants to scream, to throw something, but Jaskier just wraps his arms around him and holds him closer. "They have medications for that, enchantments."

"They don't work. I got desperate once and tried, even Yen- It was the trials, Jaskier, it's irreversible."

"The others-" he starts but Geralt cuts him off.

"Just me."

Jaskier nuzzles against his back and squeezes more firmly around him. There's silence for a long time, just the sound of Jaskier's breath, and Geralt focuses on the steady rise and fall, letting it soothe him.

"You know," Jaskier whispers at length, "none of that matters to me. I'm so sorry you were made to feel like you were somehow broken, Geralt, but it doesn't matter to me. I- I love you. For who you are, not for your cock, and I don't want you to think something's wrong with you because of it. You're too important to me." Geralt scoffs and Jaskier flattens his palm against his chest, sliding up over his heart.

"Don't argue with me, Witcher. "My love is mine to give."

"But I'm-"

Jaskier sighs softly, brushing his fingers against Geralt's skin. "Beautiful," he whispers, "kind, soft, loving. You're a wonderful man, Geralt, and there are already so many who refuse to see that. Don't be one of them. I'm not going to stop loving you, so you might as well accept it."

He presses his forehead against Geralt's back, kissing up his spine and Geralt shudders under the touch, biting back the insistence that he's not enough, that Jaskier will tire of him because he can't fuck him. Eventually, the soft brush of Jaskier's fingers and his lips calms him and Geralt drifts off, still wrapped up in his arms.

In the morning, he wakes to Jaskier's breath against the back of his neck. They've shifted during the night, so Jaskier is curved right around him, fitted against his body like he belongs there, and as soon as he realizes Geralt's awake, Jaskier kisses the side of his neck and slides an arm up his chest.

"Good morning," he hums.

"Mm, morning."

"How did you sleep, love?" Geralt hums but doesn't answer. He slept better than he has in a long time, but he doesn't know how to say that to Jaskier. "Can I ask you something?"

"Mm?"

"Does it still feel good when someone touches you?"

"I… don't know."

"Can I?"

"You don't have to," Geralt breathes, "I know it's not worth it for you-"

"Geralt," Jaskier interrupts gently, "I thought we went over this. I am in love with you and it's going to take a lot more than a soft prick to keep me away so unless you tell me not to, I will do everything I can to make you feel good."

Jaskier shifts behind him, and the arm wrapped around him slips lower, fingertips slipping through the patch of hair right above his waistband.

"Can I?" Jaskier asks again and Geralt can't bring himself to speak, too afraid to break whatever spell or dream he's trapped in. He nods against the pillow and Jaskier leans up, kissing his shoulder. "Tell me if it's too much, love."

Jaskier fumbles a little with the buttons on his trousers, getting them undone with one hand before slipping inside and wrapping around his cock. He squeezes a little at first, then moves on to stroking him slowly, letting Geralt feel him as he moves down the length of him. Sparks shoot up his spine and Geralt squirms, pushing into the touch and groaning softly because no one has ever touched him like this and it's overwhelming.

"I can't," he whispers and Jaskier immediately lets him go, but Geralt can feel Jaskier's cock swelling against his lower back and it only makes him feel guilty. "No one's ever touched me like that."

"Darling, I'm so sorry. Did it feel good?"

"Yeah."

"Good," Jaskier hums, "that's all I want." Jaskier smoothes his hand up Geralt's side, kissing his shoulders and humming against him. "Do you want to try again? It can be a little overwhelming, but I promise you it'll feel good."

Jaskier gets his hand around him again and Geralt groans as he strokes him, fingers slipping up around the head of his cock pulling back at the foreskin so he can touch him properly. Pressure builds as Jaskier touches him, squeezing around the base then pulling up the length of him again. And Geralt can barely breathe, he’s engulfed with pleasure as Jaskier kisses his neck and his shoulders and presses up against him.

And Jaskier is hard, digging into the small of his back and Geralt wants so badly to turn around and touch him, but he can hardly think through the fog of pleasure. His hips twitch forward, pressing himself into Jaskier's hand and Jaskier loosens his grip a little, letting Geralt fuck between his fingers.

"You're beautiful like this," Jaskier whispers, "Geralt you have no idea how lovely you are." He hums against him, pressing his nose into Geralt's hair. "Are you gonna come for me?"

"It feels-" Geralt gasps, but then Jaskier's hand is around him again, slipping to the base to stroke him quickly.

"Good?" Jaskier asks.

"Like I'm gonna split apart."

"Yeah, it will. You're so close, love, so close."

Geralt jerks in his grasp as the pleasure peaks and he's not certain how he can contain this feeling but then he's coming, spilling over Jaskier's hand and onto the sheets. And he's never felt anything like it before but it's incredible. Blood rushes in his ears and he's only barely aware of Jaskier talking to him as he whines and squirms against him.

Then it's over and he's left panting and hot, sweat gathering at the hollow of his neck and Jaskier's hand slips up his chest soothingly.

"How was that?" he breathes, pressing his lips to Geralt's shoulder.

"Felt good," Geralt mumbles, "really good."

"Yeah," Jaskier agrees, "it feels incredible. And just think of all the different ways I can make you come." His hips jerk, pressing into Geralt's back and he mutters a faint apology against his skin.

"What about you?" Geralt asks, turning in Jaskier's arms to face him. Jaskier tips forward, catching his lips in a brief kiss.

"This is for you, my darling, we can worry about me another time."

"I've never," Geralt starts but he feels awkward talking about it and ducks his head, staring instead at where Jaskier's hand reaches out to twine his fingers with his own. "I've never been with anyone and I know I can't, but…" he trails off and Jaskier presses in again, kissing his lips before tipping his head up.

"Geralt if you want me to fuck you all you have to do is ask."

"I didn't think anyone would want to."

"I do. Fuck, Geralt, the number of times I've thought about it… I've always wanted you ever since the first day. I don't care how your body reacts as long as you're enjoying yourself. So yes, Geralt, if you want me to fuck you I'd be more than happy to."

"Please?" Geralt breathes and Jaskier gets both arms around him, hauling him up against him and rolling onto his back.

Geralt settles quickly as Jaskier's hands slide down his back and over his ass, catching on the waistband of his trousers. When he tips his head up, Jaskier is looking back at him, his eyes dark with lust but somehow still soft and Geralt can't help but dip down, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. And Jaskier hums against him, sliding one hand back up to the back of his head and deepening the kiss.

He presses one thigh between Geralt's legs drawing him in and Geralt lets out a shuddering breath as his cock grinds up against Jaskier's leg.

"That's it," Jaskier hums, "I'm here for you, too, darling just wanna make you feel good." He pushes his trousers down, encouraging the roll of Geralt's hips as he gets them off of him and then, as he brings his hands back up, Geralt's attention is diverted.

His cock feels incredible where he presses it into Jaskier's thigh, but practiced fingers slip up over his ass, spreading his cheeks and dipping between and Geralt holds his breath. Realistically, he knows how men have sex, has seen his brothers do it and has come across it more than once in his travels, but he never expected it to happen to him and he can barely think.

Jaskier reaches for something on the floor, fumbling with it, and the next time he touches him, his fingers are cool and slick. He drags them across Geralt's hole and Geralt whines at the sensation that flickers through him. He drops to his elbows, burying his face in Jaskier's neck.

"Feel good?"

"Mmhm."

"Good. Want more?"

"Please."

"Mm," Jaskier hums, "how could I refuse when you ask so nicely?"

He brushes his fingers over him again, letting them catch on his rim and pressing a little firmer when they do. He circles his hole, pressing against it consistently and then pushes the tip of one finger into him and Geralt nearly cries out. Jaskier's free hand comes up to the back of his neck, stroking slowly.

"Still good?" he asks and when Geralt nods he hums pleasantly. "Good. It's gonna stretch a little, especially when I get my cock in you, but just tell me if it's too much, okay?"

Jaskier presses in a little further and Geralt inhales sharply. He remembers all the calming techniques he was taught as a child and shuts his eyes, breathing slowly. It feels good, having Jaskier's finger inside him and he likes the stretch of it, but he's already creeping close to the edge again, the pressure within him building and he doesn't want it to be over yet, he wants Jaskier to fuck him.

And it feels incredible when Jaskier adds a second finger, when he presses all the way in and rubs into him. He finds a spot deep within him that has Geralt moaning wantonly and grinding hard against Jaskier's cock. And Jaskier groans under him, not faltering as he continues thrusting into him, sending sparks of pleasure up Geralt's spine.

"Fuck," Jaskier groans, "Geralt you're so fucking sexy and you know I'd be happy to make you come on my fingers ten times over, but I'm not gonna last with you grinding against me like that. Think you're ready for my cock?"

"Yes," Geralt rasps and Jaskier is quick to pull out of him, but Geralt doesn't have the chance to miss the fullness before he's being shifted and the head of Jaskier's cock is pressing against him, pushing in.

It's much bigger than his fingers, but Geralt just keeps himself steady, face pressed into Jaskier's shoulder as he takes all of him. And once Jaskier is settled, he shifts his hips slowly, allowing Geralt to adjust to the intrusion.

And it feels amazing, the absolute fullness and the pressure against his cock as Jaskier's thrusts rock him and the fact that it's Jaskier, that he wants him despite everything. Geralt can't cope and he shuts his eyes, burying his face in Jaskier's neck and kissing him softly, frantically.

Jaskier keeps up the pace, finding an angle that hits that spot and sticking with it until Geralt can only whimper and moan with every thrust. It's all so much and before long, he's moving with him, unable to keep still any longer. He pushes back onto Jaskier's cock and ruts against his stomach, whining at the sensitivity of his cock and then without warning, he's coming.

He spills over Jaskier's stomach, dropping against him as waves of pleasure crash over him and he's barely aware of Jaskier coming too until he's pulling his head up and kissing him hard.

They rock through it together and Jaskier doesn't let him go for a second, running his hands over him and kissing him eagerly. It takes longer this time before Geralt finds his breath again, and when he does, Jaskier is right there with him, cheeks flushed and bright, and he can't help but lean in to kiss him again.

He doesn't know how long it is that they lay there, wrapped up in each other just kissing and touching, but eventually, it's Jaskier who pulls away.

"As much as I'd love to stay here for the rest of the day," he hums, lips still barely an inch from Geralt's, "I think we should have a bath and get some lunch."

Geralt would also like to stay in bed for the rest of the day, but his stomach grumbles at him and he finds himself agreeing. Jaskier runs a hand down his chest, wrapping loosely around his cock and brushing his fingers along it. Geralt's eyes flutter shut and Jaskier hums softly.

"If you're amenable," he breathes, "I'd like to rent a room at the kingfisher, one of the nice ones, and stay for a while." He slips his hand back up Geralt's chest and around the side of his neck. "I think we both deserve a break and I'd like some time to… get to know you better." His lips curl up in a cheeky smile and Geralt scoffs at him but doesn't resist when Jaskier draws him back in for a gentle kiss.

A shiver runs up his spine and Geralt thinks, maybe, that despite its flaws, his body isn't so bad after all.

[jaskierswolf]

Hello dear. Umm, I saw your prompts are open and Kelly Clarkson's "My Life Would Suck Without You" just came up on the radio, and... Could I ask for that and Geraskier? Pretty please, if you feel like it. Thank you. Love you. 💙

Hello dearest anon! I hope you see this. I’m sorry it took so long! I had a really great time writing this and thanks to @kuripon for being my beta!

___________

Geralt stared across the room, eyes fixed on the bard that was twirling and dancing around the room. Long brown hair flicked around her shoulder as she flirted with customers, singing words that were so familiar to him. He’d been there when they were composed, after all. They were different to the memory he had in his mind. Jaskier had repeated them over and over again, pacing around the camp and plucking at his lute without a care in the world. In his mind it was just a first draft, the words not quite fully formed, lacking the finesse and polish that this version had.

And yet, Geralt couldn’t help but prefer the version in his head.

It was messy, and most importantly, Jaskier was the one singing. Hazel eyes met his from across the room and winked at him, but it was wrong. She was wrong. He growled and downed the rest of his drink, the emptiness in heart becoming too much to bear. He picked up his swords and stalked from the room, letting the cool air of the night cleanse his pain. He didn’t deserve the warmth of a tavern. He wasn’t even sure why he’d come to Oxenfurt, there were no contracts as far as he was aware. In fact, he’d been heading in the opposite direction when he’d seen the signpost for Oxenfurt at a fork in the road.

And he’d turned Roach towards the city without a second thought. Thoughts of cornflower blue eyes and tousled mousy brown hair driving him home.

But now that he was here, he felt lost. He couldn’t enter the Academy without good reason, and without Jaskier’s easy lies and bright smile, he couldn’t find a way inside.

He pressed his fingers to his forehead, ignoring the hustle and bustle of the city that never seemed to sleep. He should leave, take Roach and leave. There were contracts in villages not far from here and he could make some coin. He really needed to make some coin. The purse tied to his belt was lighter than it should be and if his armour or swords were damaged then he would struggle to repair them, let alone replace them.

“Fuck,” he growled and turned towards the Academy instead.

His heart was foolish, but he hadn’t realised how much he wanted Jaskier until he’d lost him.  

It was like something from the fucking ballads that the bard wrote. He’d never pined like this before, and the feeling unsettled him. He’d been drawn to Yennefer, the Djinn wish pulling them together across the Continent, but this was different. There was no magic with Jaskier, no spell, or wish, or tie from Destiny.

Jaskier had chosen him, of his own free will, and he’d kept choosing Geralt, every single day, no matter what the world had thrown at them, and Geralt had found himself choosing Jaskier back. He would protect Jaskier at all costs, even if it meant failing a contract, killing a wyvern instead of moving them on. One bed at inns so that the bard could afford new lute strings, watered down piss instead of his favourite wine if it meant that Jaskier could have a goblet of fiorano rather than the cheaper wines on the menu.

Geralt hadn’t realised he was doing it until he went to order the wine along with his ale, before remembering he was alone.

“Hold up!” a guard yelled at him as he approached the gates. “No visitors.”

“I’m here for Jaskier,” Geralt growled.

“You’re not coming in, freak,” the guard spat, forcing Geralt to step back.

Geralt didn’t want to fight, but he didn’t know what else to do, he’d been hoping the mention of Jaskier would be enough. The guard glared at him, his fingers itching for his sword and Geralt raised his hands in defence, but it was no use. The damage was done. He swiped his fingers through the air in the sign of Axii.

“Let me through,” Geralt murmured.

“Let you through, of course, here you go, Master witcher.”

Geralt swept past the guard, keeping his head low, not wanting to draw anymore attention to himself. Iit wasn’t even the fact he was a witcher. Worse, it was because he was, the White Wolf. Students ogled him as he walked through the corridors. He hadn’t spent much time at the Academy but every time he had visited before, Jaskier had gripped his arm, waving his own hand through the air as he told stories of his youth. It wasn’t difficult to picture his bard as a young man in the halls of the Oxenfurt Academy. Jaskier hadn’t been much older when he’d met him.

The scent of chamomile and honey hit him before he saw the bard.

“Guess this means you’re sorry, if you’re standing at my door?” Jaskier said icily. Geralt spun round to see Jaskier leaning on a balcony above him. He looked… fuck he looked good. His hair had grown out in the year they’d been apart, the ends now tickling his chin, and he was now sporting a thick beard. His doublet was a pale sky blue that made his eyes seem to shine even brighter.

“Jaskier…”

It was the only word he had left, all apologies dying on his tongue as he took in the sight of his bard. No… not his bard. Jaskier was his own bard, an esteemed professor at Oxenfurt and Geralt didn’t deserve him.

But fuck if he wasn’t going to try his best.

“So… you take back all you said before?” Jaskier’s voice was poisonous, a cold fire burning in those pretty cornflower blue eyes. “Like how much you wanted anyone but me? If life could give you one blessing…”

Jaskier didn’t finish the blasted sentence but they both flinched, the memories of that damned mountain top haunting them both.

“I was stupid,” Geralt admitted, “for telling you goodbye.”

“Oh ho ho! Oh yeah, yeah. I know that, Geralt, but fuck, it took months for me to realise. I blamed myself, you know? For everything? You did. So it only made sense.”

“Jaskier-“

“What, Geralt?” Jaskier snapped.

Geralt took a shaky breath. In all their years together, Jaskier had never been so closed off to him. It had always been easy touches and warm words. The difference now was stark and every word was like a dagger straight to his heart.

“My life would suck without you,” Geralt mumbled. “It has sucked without you. I’m nothing without you.”

Jaskier laughed, a sharp, disbelieving bark that was almost hysterical. “Oh, Geralt. We both know that’s not true.”

“We do?”

“You’re a warrior, a hero, a knight. Smart, brave, and kind. You’re funny, in your own terrible kind of way, and you are, were… fuck no, are, my best friend.”

Geralt scoffed. “Means nothing without you.”

“That’s quite a change of heart, witcher.”

“I missed you,” Geralt said with a shrug. “What is it you poets say? Absence makes the heart grow stronger?”

Jaskier squeaked and slipped on the balcony. For a heart-stopping moment Geralt thought the bard would tumble over the edge but he just slipped backwards, gripping the beam in a desperate attempt to stay upright.

“Being with you is so dysfunctional,” Jaskier sighed. “I really shouldn’t miss you.”

“And yet..”

“Here we are…”

“Come with me?” Geralt asked, “Let’s try again.”

Jaskier shook his head. “I can’t.”

Geralt closed his eyes, readying himself to turn away and leave but Jaskier spoke again. “Geralt, wait. I mean… it’s the middle of term, Geralt. I can’t just leave.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s not a no?”

“Come back at the end of term, I’ll give you my answer then?” Jaskier asked, tilting his head, and Geralt nodded. That wasn’t what he’d been hoping for, but honestly it was better than he expected. The things he’d said, fuck, it made him the monster everyone thought he was. He sighed and turned to leave the city.

“Geralt!” Jaskier yelled after him, he spun around to look back at the bard. Frantic blue eyes were staring back at him. “Just. Just wait there. Please, Geralt.”

And how could Geralt say no to that? He perched on a stone bench, overlooking one of the gardens in the courtyard. Bees were flying around the flowers, never quite settling as they buzzed incessantly. The blooms were almost overwhelming, too sweet, too floral, but he stayed put. Jaskier had asked him to, and he’d worked out pretty early on that there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for the bard.

“Ah, Geralt, there you are!” Jaskier called brightly, “I was starting to think you’d left.” Geralt gestured to the bench. “Right, right, yes. Well… I couldn’t let you leave, not without… well…”

Jaskier leant forward to kiss his cheek, the bristles of his beard brushing against Geralt’s skin. “Jask?”

“You’ve got a piece of me, dear heart,” Jaskier murmured, his hand cupping the cheek he’d just kissed. “And. And my life life would suck without you too.”

Geralt smiled as he leant into Jaskier’s touch. “I’ll be back, I promise.”

“I know, I think… well… I really hope, and I’d really like to forgive you for what you said, but it might take a bit more time.”

“I have time,” Geralt insisted, bringing his hand up to cover Jaskier’s. He took the bard’s hand in his and brought it to his lips. “We have time.”

[andguesswhat]

The fool on the hill - Chapter 7

Yeah, well… Probably not what you’ve expected…  But for me this is them as well…

The Clown and the Circus Bear

*

So everything had been perfect. 

Owen had felt genuinely happy. He thought Tom was fucking adorable, he wanted to kiss him, wanted to fuck him. 

The moment on the hill with him was definitely something he would always cherish, always remember. This deep feeling of affection combined with this immense tension, the thrill, this feeling that yes, the other felt the same, wanted the same…

And as fucking frustrating as it was that they were interrupted and didn’t kiss, he had loved that, too. It was like being in a cheesy movie where the tension was ramped up yet again with a cheap director’s trick.

He took a deep breath. 

But now this. 

It had been like this before. 

Sometimes when he was genuinely happy, he would suddenly get this fear of losing everything. Like he wasn’t allowed to be this happy. So the happier he got, the more likely he was to crash. 

And this morning he had crashed, and crashed hard. 

A dark cloud of thick cotton already surrounded him, numbing and suffocating him. And there was nothing he could do about it. 

He had managed to get through the day and pretend everything was fine. But now he was on set at this birthday party of Natasha's and he felt completely out of place, like he didn’t belong here. Everyone around him was laughing too loud, talking too loud and he just wanted to get away from it all. 

Of course, after yesterday on the hill, everything was pointing towards him and Tom kissing tonight. Because why not. They should have fun at this party and then at some point.... kiss... right?

And it was that very expectation that caused Owen to crash. 

The excitement that he had felt yesterday was gone. Instead there was this fear of somehow not meeting the expectations, of doing something wrong that would destroy everything.

He hated it. 

Knowing that this was just some kind of sick mechanism in his head and he wasn’t able to do anything about it. He hated feeling like shit when this happened, but he bit his tongue and just smiled through the pain.

He saw Tom talking to people, saw him searching for eye contact with him, beaming at him, winking at him but Owen avoided him, always went somewhere else, far away from him. He felt a twinge in his chest at each smile sent his way and he finally couldn't do it anymore, so he disappeared behind some backdrops and got to the areas that were only illuminated with emergency lights. 

He had always loved that. Wandering through abandoned, dimly lit sets. He loved the atmosphere it created. But now he was just enjoying the darkness and a break away from all these laughing people. 

With a big sigh he sat down on the steps in the TVA interrogation room, resting his arms on his drawn knees, and closed his eyes. 

Why the fuck…!

He didn’t want this. 

He just wanted to be happy. 

He had been happy. 

So what was wrong with him?

Why had he to be like that?

He really hated himself. 

He wanted to drown this feeling in alcohol but he couldn’t risk falling even deeper.  

To think about his kids in these situations sometimes helped. Sometimes it made it worse, made him think he was the worst dad of all. 

Since he had come to Atlanta to work on `Loki´ everything had been so good this far. 

Even his current sleeping problems had stopped. He had felt calm. Content. Confident. 

Meeting Tom was one of the best things that had happened to him lately. He felt good in his presence. Safe. It was something he hadn’t expected. So he had cherished the time he had spent with Tom on and off set as something really special. 

And working on `Loki´ had been a blessing, too. The script was crap if he was honest. But due to that they had so much fun, so much freedom to try things out, to improvise, to just see what they came up with and it gave him the urge to write again. If it was for him, he would already do prequels, sequels and spin-offs with Mobius. He just loved it. He loved playing Mobius.

It really had done him so damn good. 

Owen contorted his face. 

So why?

Just why the fuck had it to be like this?

He heard someone coming. 

Saw Tom looking for him…  

With a bottle of beer in his hand. With a concerned look on his face.

“Hey…” 

With his fucking soft voice that Owen loved so much. 

“Everything alright? I don’t… I don’t want to bother you when you want to be alone. I was just… worried.” 

Being as sweet and caring and polite as always.

And it hurt Owen deep down in his chest. 

“No.. no, you don’t. I just… “ He didn’t know what to say.  

He just knew that he didn’t want Tom to leave.

“Can I sit down?” Tom asked carefully. 

Yes, please. “Sure.”

So Tom sat down next to him, looking at him with big questioning eyes. 

Yeah.. he should probably explain something. 

“I’m sorry… Tom.” Owen began. “I…”

He hated it. “I’m a mess...”

But Tom just looked at him compassionately and waited, so Owen continued. 

“I… have problems… sometimes.. mental problems… So I get sad sometimes… when I’m supposed to be… happy… when I am happy… It is some kind of dysfunction in my head. Like.. Well, like the happy clown gets sad…”

He sighed.

“And I’m really sorry… Because I guess.. you have expected something else… tonight… But I’m not good for you… I guess, I’m not good for anybody when I’m like this…” 

Tom squinted his eyes and pressed his lips together as if he was disagreeing but trying not to say anything. So Owen emphasized his point.

“I just can’t… give you what you want. I wish I could. But I just can’t.” 

He shook his head and looked down at the floor because he just didn’t know why he actually couldn’t.  

“I know this is hard to understand…” He knew how fucking stupid this all sounded. Why don’t you just do it if you want to? What’s the problem? They always say… 

He closed his eyes, feeling ashamed of himself.

“I do understand…” he heard Tom say softly.

Owen lifted his head to look at him. He was looking right back at him, with so much compassion in his eyes, and he continued speaking. Quietly. 

“Well, I don’t know… I mean everybody feels different, everybody has different… problems.. challenges… I don’t get sad when I’m happy.. But I do know what the sad side of a clown feels like… or actually more the sad side of a circus bear… which I am… Or was… I don’t know…”

Owen had to laugh a little at that. “Tom, the circus bear… Sounds like a cute children’s book.”

Tom smiled. “Yeah… .  I don’t know. Maybe it’s some kind of ADHD,” he shrugged his shoulders, “… but I’ve always done what people wanted me to do. And people wanted me to do really stupid things… . And I just did them. I loved the attention, I loved being liked… and to be loved… so I did more and more without really knowing why… And it really took me a long time to realize that…" he looked at the ceiling lost in thoughts, "I have worked constantly for 6 years in a row… I’ve sort of done every movie they offered me.. I have no idea how many interviews I gave during that time… how many stupid things I did… and all that just to not sit in that bear cage after the show…. And feel lonely and redundant…”

Owen felt his heart ache hearing all this. He didn't dare to breathe, didn't want to break this fragile bubble that they had somehow built here.

“And at some point I really lost it, I got so tired of it all… But you’re stuck in this wheel … " Tom’s hand made a circle," and you don’t know how to get out of it… I didn’t know who I am or what I wanted…” he sighed and nibbled at the label of his bottle. “I think I’m better now. Know how to take all this. But this doesn’t make me immune, you know. It will always be there…”

He took a deep breath, straightening up his back and looking directly at Owen.

“I’m sorry… I don’t want to be whining here.. I just want you to know that I know how it feels to be sad… when from the outside looking in... it seems that you don’t have any reason to.” 

Owen was deeply touched.

“Thank you…” he whispered. “Thank you for telling me…”

Tom gave him a reassuring look.

And then he got this Hang-on-I-have-to-think-about-something look on his face. 

Owen loved thinking-Tom. 

Watching Tom think always made Owen feel like a little kid at Christmas that couldn’t wait to see what was in the box. A quote? An adorable metaphor? 

“So… If you’re unhappy because you were happy…” Tom began. 

And Owen immediately loved how Tom had changed his voice to a more chatty and juvenile tone. 

“It’s sounds quite awful when I have to think that I am the one making you unhappy, so I’m going to reverse it: You being unhappy … does it mean that you like me… ” he gave Owen a challenging look. “…a little more… than a little?” 

Owen laughed. He shrugged his shoulders mockingly and showed a little space between his thumb and his index finger. “Yeah.. maybe a little more.”

But Tom didn’t seem to mind the mockery because he looked at Owen severely and said -  in his soft voice again -, “I can wait then.”

Owen didn’t know what to feel, he smiled a small smile but it came from deep in his heart and he hoped Tom would notice. 

“Thank you.”

Somehow he wished Tom would just grab him and kiss him. 

But it wouldn’t be Tom if he crossed the line. It wouldn’t be Tom if he didn’t respect him and his condition. 

And as much as Owen wished he would cross it, it showed him two things. 

One, that Tom was even more damn lovable. 

And two, that he himself was the one who needed to free himself out of there. Nobody else could. 

But he was determined to do it.  

He had to get better soon, if for no other reason than he could finally kiss Tom. His favorite Brit with his nonexistent lips. 

And now, now he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Tom. Held him close. And he was fucking glad that he could do it.  

“I’m sorry…” he whispered. 

“Don’t feel bad about it…,” Tom whispered back. “I want you to know that I don’t expect anything... And just as you are, you are good for me.” 

Tom’s word were soothing, his voice was soothing, Tom was soothing. Like he had been from the start.

“Thank you,” Owen said again and because he couldn’t resist, he added, “my little circus bear.”

Tom snorted. “Don’t! Just don’t!”

Owen grinned. “Yeah, I thought you are more of a pussycat anyway.”

And even he knew it would take some time before he felt right again, before he felt carefree again, he was fucking glad. 

That Tom had somehow turned this fucking sad situation in something lighter and beautiful. 

And that Tom had shown him a spark at the end of a hopefully not so long tunnel.

*

[oftenderweapons]

Steamy Waters – Jin

Pairing: Seokjin x reader (nicknamed Angel) Wordcount: 9.1k Genre: smut, unadulterated smut, slightest fluff, established relationship, idol!au Rating: 18+

Hello wildflowers! Welcome to Jin’s Steamy Waters scenario (and coincidentally his birthday fic too). Let me explain you the plot, real quick: the fic is set right after the MAMA ceremony, and because of the several award ceremonies and a busy schedule, Jin and his gf unfortunately couldn’t celebrate his birthday in time. However, Jin decides to take the matter in his own hands, offering Angel a  nice bath, which quite expectedly turns into very hot business. 

And now on to TRIGGER WARNINGS: this is an established relationship and yes, the character have unprotected sex; no, this does not mean that you should forego condoms or dental dams. There is some swearing. Other than that, well, big dick, jackhammer!Jin is back (couldn’t really do any different. We know he’s blessed like that); breast worship, slight marking, nipple suction cups, clitoral suction cup, oral sex (both male and female receiving), cum shot (face and chest), cum eating and more generically cum play; masturbation (both male and female); barely dommy Seokjin; slight degradation (he calls her naughty and dirty a couple times, but he’s more patronising than insulting); gagging (he puts his fingers in her mouth to keep her quiet); overstimulation; very briefly, playfully mentions erectile dysfunction (Jin jokes about it). Angel has medium-big, quite sensitive breasts. Jin and Angel briefly discuss a past scene where a pinwheel and a riding crop were involved, and where Angel used her safeword (no angst).

In case you need it, well here is my masterlist

(I’ll be editing this again sometime soon, here it’s ass o’clock in the morning and atm I can barely think straight -- well, I never really think straight, I’m bi af.)

Enjoy 💜✨

–——————————————

Jin came through the door with the tip of his nose red, rubbing his hands together. 

“Darling.” You called from the kitchen. It was almost one am and you had just finished watching the MAMA ceremony, waiting for him to get home. As you waited, you got two cups of tea ready, especially after he told you he had been cold all night long. 

When he appeared, he was the personification of an icicle, shaking all over. “Hi.” He greeted. 

“Hello, baby. Would you like some tea?” You asked, standing in front of him.

He nodded. You hugged him tight. “Oh, you’re frozen, baby.” You stood on your tiptoes and kissed his lips. “Congratulations on your… how many prizes?” Your frowned in confusion.

“They’re… eight? Nine? I lost count.” He shrugged and dipped down his head, kissing you again, rubbing his frozen nose against yours. “And I’m happy about those, but...” He placed his hands on your waist, letting them slide down to your hips and ass. “I have other stuff on my mind.”

“Like?” You said, smiling and running your palms up his chest, gripping his shoulders. 

“Like the fact that we didn’t celebrate my birthday because they kept me busy.” He murmured, kneading your ass through the fine fleece of your pyjamas. 

“You want to celebrate?” You said, combing his hair back, grimacing as your fingers got caught on several strata of hairspray. “Maybe after you shower?” You suggested. 

“Maybe you could keep me warm in the bathtub.” He looked down and licked his lips, raising his eyebrows as he looked into your eyes. 

You raised your eyebrows in reply, a bit surprised by his proposition. “You’ve eaten already?” You asked. 

“Mhmh.” He confirmed as he kept his hands on your waist, backwalking towards the bathroom with small steps. 

“What are you doing?” You asked, with a smirk. 

“Claiming my birthday present?” He suggested, taking bigger steps now that he was in the short corridor leading to the master bedroom and that you looked more complacent. 

You chuckled. “You really want to take a bath at one am?”

“I just want quality time with you.” He said. “And I need to get washed.”

“Okay.” You nodded as he finally entered the bathroom. 

He grinned, immediately walking to the tub and blocking the drain before he opened the tap, placing the settings on hot water. He poured some soap in, his sweet jasmine scent wafting through the room. The air in the bathroom was toasty, and he placed his hands near the heater, letting them warm up before he undid the buttons of his shirt. 

He only had a white tank top on underneath, which made you realize how cold he must have been. The garment emphasised his thin waist and wide shoulders so beautifully that you walked closer, backhugging him. “Did you have a woolen jacket on or was it light fabric?” You asked, rubbing your hands down his arms. 

“I had the jacket on stage, I had my coat in the backstage.” He reassured you.

Your hands met his belt, so familiar with it that it was almost too easy to undo. 

“Are you helping me get undressed?” He asked with a playful tone. 

“Maybe.” You replied with a cheshire grin that he spotted through the mirror. 

“Why aren’t you undressing yourself?” He asked, curious. 

You shrugged. “I prefer when you undress me.” 

He turned around in your arms, cupping your cheeks, his eyes glimmering with dark intensity. He looked so unbelievably beautiful as he licked his lips. “You want me to undress you?” He asked, his voice calm and serious and warm. 

“Yes, Jinnie.” You whispered, placing his hands on the waistband of your sweats. 

“Here.” He said, as he bent down, dragging the garment with him, helping your feet out of the legs of your pyjamas while he stayed crouched at your feet. Standing up, he noticed the lack of underwear. “No panties?” He asked, raising his eyebrows and smirking slowly. 

“They were making me uncomfortable.” You explained, raising your arms as he took off your camisole. 

“And what about the bra?” He asked, immediately cupping your breasts and diving his face in between them, pressing heavy kisses on your breastbone. 

“I never wear it at home and you know it.” You stated matter-of-factly.

“Sometimes you do.” He said. 

“Never with my pyjamas.” You objected. 

He shrugged and kissed both your nipples gingerly. “My turn?” He said, raising his arms. 

You slipped your hand under his tank top, dragging it up with your nails, his hands landing on your ass. 

“You’re on fire tonight, Jinnie.” You teased. He had become more passionate with time, warming up to you and your kinkier needs, discovering domination and all the connected disciplines. He had learned a lot — most importantly that having sex with you was just as good and perfect as making love to you — which had come as a revelation to him and a blessing to you. 

Still, sometimes you wished you hadn't set the beast inside him free, since he could be the most demanding, exhausting lover you could ever imagine. 

He caught your wrists, stopping your hands from tugging down his slacks and underwear together. “You don't want it?” He asked, suddenly serious. 

You thought about it. You were tired and your eyes felt droopy after six hours in front of the television. “I'm just surprised. I didn't know you had been craving it like this.” You explained. “I would have helped you out if I had known.”

He pushed your wrists down, dragging his trousers too in the process. “I wanted to take our time. Make it something big, festive.” He said just as you kneeled to take his pants off, his half hard cock springing free. 

“If you want, we can put a ribbon on your dick and there you go, 'big and festive'.” You joked, already trying to get your mouth on his length. 

He chuckled and your heart filled with happiness as his joy manifested. You love making him laugh. 

“I have an idea.” He announced suddenly with a serious face as he took a step back, stopping your naughty endeavour. 

“Your ideas scare me. And no, we're not doing the pinwheel thing again. I still have to emotionally recover from that.” You said.  

His mind went back to that evening. It had been almost ten days. “You looked so pretty, though.”

“I just need a bit before we go there again.” You explained.

“This conversation is not over, let me just go grab a thing,” He said, wrapping a towel around his waist and exiting the bathroom. In the meantime you closed the tap, getting ready to dip your toes in. 

“Don't go in just yet.” He said, entering the room just in time. He placed two small objects on the bathroom counter. “Come here, please.” He said. “I think this could work, but I'm not sure.”

You took a few steps, your frame standing naked in front of him. God, he wanted you in so many ways. Your grace and finesse and selfish sexuality, all enslaved to his pleasure. He wanted that. He wanted to use you for his pleasure and drive you completely insane as he did so. He wanted you to live your pleasure through his. He wanted your soul, your body, your big eyes staring at him, and your cunt dripping all over him. 

Later, he told himself. 

He turned and picked up the tiny accessories from the bathroom sink. “These cannot go underwater, Angel. If they do, they might lose the vacuum effect and release your pretty buds.” He bent down to your left nipple, cupping the underside of your breast to bring it closer to your mouth. He suckled on it a little, his hand cupping your mound, teasing a wetness that he seemed to evoke simply with his attention towards you. Parting from your breast with a loud sucking noise, he used both his hands to fix the small nipple pump around your small protuberance, keeping the cylinder firm as he twisted a small screw on top of the cylinder which regulated the amount of pressure inside the cup. 

He repeated the same procedure on the other nipple, after he laved it with wide, lush licks. “It would have been lovely to put one on your clit, but I'm not sure it could hold.” He kissed your sternum. “Plus, I shouldn't spoil your pretty cunt from the very start.” He bent to your ear. “You've got to earn yourself heaven, Angel.” He smiled innocently and winked before standing up straight. 

You frowned and took a step back before noticing the way the towel was still draped around his hips and sat a bit awkwardly around his growing cock. 

Smirking, you tugged at it, leaving him naked. He lifted an eyebrow before sporting a lop-sided grin. “Don’t make me put you on your knees, Angel.”

“What if I wanted you to do just that?” You asked, stepping closer, dragging your nails down his thigh. 

“In the tub. Now.” He ordered. 

“You won’t even let me kiss it?” You asked, batting your lashes at him. 

“Later. Maybe.” He said, looking at your breasts and licking his lips. “Get in the tub, Angel.” He repeated, more gently. You hugged him and you were suddenly reminded of the small suction cups as they collided with Jin’s chest. 

Holding your waist, he started taking small steps to his destination, leading you as you walked backwards. “I want to relax with you first. Talk about some stuff.” He stated softly. 

You simply nodded, just a small part of you growing alarmed at his statement regarding “talking about stuff”. You trusted him and your relationship was solid. There was nothing to be worried about. 

He stopped you just shy of the tub, entering and holding your hand as he helped you in, sitting down first and making you settle between his legs. His hands immediately moved under your breasts, supporting them to avoid the cups getting underwater. “There we go, my love.” He murmured gently. “So what happened with the pinwheel? Would you like to talk about it? Did I cross a line?” He asked. 

Truth is, Seokjin has learned a lot. From being a novice, he had become an upper-intermediate in terms of domination and punishments. If you asked him, he would say that half of his improvements were because of the excellent communication that the two of you had built. Moments like this, where you simply connected and recollected events together weren’t rare at all. He would ask you for suggestions and improvements, he would question you about what had gone wrong and what you would like to explore further. 

“I think that at a certain moment you snapped? And the riding crop was… too much. I was so focused on the tiny feel of the pinwheel that the crop was all too sudden and...I couldn’t stand it.”

His body was finally warm at your back. He slowly let go of your chest, making sure that the cups wouldn’t submerge as he stretched to dry his hands with a towel, only to fix your hair on top of your head, trying to make sure that they didn't get wet. “You used your safeword a couple times but you didn’t stop. Why?” He asked. 

“I used our yellow. To slow down.” You recalled. 

He hummed in confirmation. 

“I liked your attitude. I wanted you to keep going, even though the scene was a bit harsh.” You explained. 

“Was I too harsh?” He asked delicately, his hands going back to your breasts, massaging the heavy underside. The dry pull at your nipples made you clench the inner walls of your entrance, and you could almost sense the wetness already forming inside, 

“A few times. When you hit the spot where the pinwheel had just been. Especially on my breasts. And crotch.” You explained trying to keep your composure but failing, throwing your head against his shoulder and huffing out his name. 

His hands were teasing in that skilled, knowledgeable way he knew, like you were his harp and he was playing you with the most delicate stimulation. With his thumbs he was drawing lines that moved from the perimeter of each breast to its nipple, like rays of an inverted sun, going from the outskirts to the centre. Your skin grew more and more sensitive, with blood blooming to the surface, summoned both by the suction on your nipple and by his delicate touches. The arousal, only adding onto the vicious circle, made your heartbeat faster, fatefully increasing the amount of fresh blood running under the skin skimmed by his fingers, in an endless game of chase where all you did was run in circles around pleasure, without ever a true chance of reaching it. 

“Are they getting sensitive, my love?” He asked, his hands continuing with their pattern even as your hands dove underwater to grip his knees. Anything that could anchor you down and keep you from moving like a flame to his wind. 

“What are your intentions? Do you want to play?” You asked. You knew he was tiptoeing around that fine line that divided your Jinnie, bright and playful and loving, to the dark and demanding master that he could become when in his worst behaviour. 

“I wanted to see if we can just… blur the line a little.” He asked, slightly doubtful. “I know that so far we have always discussed most things together and that has kept us this close.” He said, right when his hands went back to simply cupping your curves. 

He nuzzled his nose into the hair of your nape. You shivered slightly, just as his cock fluttered, trapped between his abdomen and your backside as he spooned you. “Tonight I thought we could keep all the rough stuff on the side and just… Have fun? Like, doing what we do but without me overpowering you and using you and all of that. I just want it to be light. And fun. Light like when we make love and fun like when we play.” Jin asked, frowning as he realised just how strange and confused hus request was. 

“You want the sex without the domination.” You rephrased before he nodded simply. “That is fine to me.” You agreed. 

“I mean, I might still take control. I have the strange feeling I will. Like I will completely ignore this conversation and turn Godzilla on you.”

You shrugged. It’s not like you didn’t enjoy him doing that. Actually, it’s what he did best. Not that the rest wasn’t nice. Quite the opposite. But if his vanilla was ten out of ten, his… So to say… Beast mode… Well, that was an eleven. 

“Jinnie, baby. It’s your birthday, love.” You said. “Well, not really your birthday birthday, but it’s you that we’re celebrating. You know I support you whatever you do. If I don’t like it, I’ll tell you.” You stated coolly.

“But you promise you won’t say yes when you want to say no only because it’s my birthday?” He asked, and you could almost hear the small pout in his voice, 

“No birthday privilege can push me through my hard limits, Jinnie.” You reassured him. 

“Cool.” He stated. 

“Cool.” You echoed. 

“Will you wash my hair, please?” He asked, kissing your temple. 

You smiled, falling in love all over again, head to toe, in that precise second. You turned your head, looking at him from over your shoulder. “Of course.” You turned around fully, facing him, kneeling between his legs as he moved closer to the middle of the tub. His hands immediately moved to your waist, touching it as if he was moulding the thin neck of a vase. 

“You’re very handsy tonight.” You noticed as you drew the small shower head close to his head, placing your hand at his hairline to make sure that he wouldn’t get water in his eyes. 

“I…” He began, however he found himself speechless. He didn’t really have any reasons other than wanting you. He didn’t quite understand how it was that this craving of his had appeared so sudden and intense. He didn’t know what made it so different from the other times. He was just… So needy. It felt right. So right, to cross some boundaries tonight, to go the extra mile — miles, even — to please you. He just needed to see you come apart in his arms. Maybe he needed a confirmation? Yes, he needed to know that he was going in the right direction. But he also just wanted to have fun. To feel young. To feel that teenage frenzy that had never possessed him. 

Because he felt envious. Sometimes. Of the way the others seemed to live sex as this possessing and at the same time liberating experience that seemed to just cleanse them from all the frustration of rehearsals and performances and shows and everything. Of the way Hoseok waltzed in all fresh and loose-limbed, five minutes late on Saturday morning. Of the dizzy smile Taehyung had that morning when Lace slept at their place. Of the way Yoongi randomly disappeared every now and then, only to come back with bruises on his neck and this lazy and sated look on his face. And of the way Namjoon was always so energised and productive till the late hours after Vixen left his studio in bright red stilettos and a fancy — and suspicious — raincoat. 

They were the ones who could barely hide it. Jimin and Guk normally were more discreet. Except the little one had unnerving ego boosts every time he came back from weekends with Candy. And Jimin’s brattier side seemed always asleep once Princess had had her sweet way with him. 

He wanted to be relaxed and careless and arrogant, just like that. 

He kept thinking, where was the trick? What was it that made it that good? Was he doing something wrong?

Curious about his long long silence, you reckoned he was worrying over something. “What is it?”

He hesitated a couple seconds before his eyebrows knitted together in a focused expression. “What do you think it is that makes sex good?” He asked. “Perfect, even.”

You smiled and frowned, confused. “Why are you asking?”

“You know that relaxed, easy feel you have afterwards, when you’re just… Like, feeling hazy and all of that.”

You giggled and poured some shampoo on your palm, foaming it up before beginning to massage it into his scalp. “I guess it’s hormones.” You said, shrugging. 

“Yeah, but… I don’t know. I’ve never felt that relaxed.” He said. “Of course I like what we do, and it’s not that what we’ve had so far isn’t good, but when the guys get laid it shows. Like, really really shows.”

Your eyebrows shot up, as you sat straighter, using your fingertips to scratch the crown of his head. He moaned, “right there”, and whined as you kept rubbing the spot with a knowing smirk. As his eyes opened slightly, he found your tits right in front of his face, at which he placed his forehead on your sternum dragging his face side to side, nuzzling into your breasts. 

You laughed. “But it does show, when you get laid.” You moved your hand behind his ears, still checking for any leftovers of hairspray or hair gel. 

“Really? How?”

“It’s subtle. You don’t boast about this stuff. But it shows.” You said, rubbing his scalp, just shy of his forehead, where most of the hairstyling had happened. You knew that having his hair lifted up like that over his face, showing the neat, broad expanse of his brow must have meant lots of hairspray and hair gel. “You walk straighter. Like you’re the king of the world. It’s like… In your spine. You scream ‘daddy material’ with your whole posture. You get even sexier than normal. You don’t notice it maybe, but you laugh more easily and you let yourself rest a little. That’s how it looks.”

Rinsing his hair, you let the water push it back, out of his forehead, which you admired for only a second before focusing on getting all the suds away from his hair. Once happy with the results, you closed the tap to the shower head, placing the tool back on its prop. You admired the smooth extent of clear skin under your eyes, his brow glimmering with water droplets. Bending down, you placed small kisses on it, making sure that not an inch went unkissed or unloved. “But maybe I should show you how it feels to really let go, to get that loose.” 

He kissed your mole, right under your breast and slowly worked his way up, towards your caged nipple. “How does that work?”

You caught his head in your arms, cradling it. “Let me take care of that.” You suggested delicately, just as he teased the suction cup with his nose. The movement caused a shift in the flesh, a fresh wave of arousal washing over you. His wide, brown eyes stared into you, obviously knowing what that reaction must have meant. His hands tentatively caressed the back of your thighs, from your knees to the curve of your ass, slithering between your legs and pushing you forward, making you straddle his lap. This time he ran the tip of his thumb around the base of the cup, making your eyes roll back.

“What about you? Who’ll take care of you?” He asked, lightly patting the underside of your breasts before moving to firmer, slapping motions. 

You lost your mind. 

You let your hips fall, meeting the flesh of his cock and grinding against it. Penetration was a foolish thought at the current situation, but grinding? Yes, please.

Plus, the moment you heard Jin’s groan when you pressed him to your belly, you knew tonight was the night you would finally drive him over the edge. You knew that when he ventured into scenes with you, in the end he was relaxed, but he was still struggling with that sense of guilt that after a few months had significantly reduced, but was still there, on a smaller extent. And when he made love to you, he never really went to the end of it, refusing to let himself loose to make sure that you were completely taken care of. 

But tonight it was you taking care of him. And you would not let him go until you had sucked him dry. Rubbing yourself against him, you let your hand into his hair and direct his mouth to your other breast, where he pressed his tongue against your curves, shifting the weight of them around. It was such a strange feeling to feel the very base of your boobs so affected by a simple, superficial teasing. It was like the motionless emptiness inside the vacuumed cup only found its true value when the flesh underneath it was moved, like the sudden rush of blood caused by movement was what kept the fire burning. 

“I wanna taste you.” You murmured, your lips hovering over his. 

“You wanna kiss me or…?” He asked, looking at you with hooded eyes. He looked beautiful and lustful. 

You realised only in that moment that you hadn’t really kissed him, if not for small pecks and gentle brushing of lips. That you had been naked, fairly horny, in a bathtub for the last thirty minutes, and you hadn’t even kissed. 

Cupping his cheeks, you dove for his lips, both your and his mouth hanging open waiting for your tongues to meet and intertwine. You pressed even harder into him, moaning as your tongue entered his mouth, giving a little flick with the tip to his lower lip before conquering the whole cavity of his cheeks and palate with wide, slow sweeps. 

He reckoned none of his exes had ever kissed him like this. Like he was one of their possessions. Like he belonged to you and you were simply claiming your right to his mouth and every other part of his body. 

You were the best kisser, especially with the way your hands moved on his face and hair and shoulders, kneading into the tense skin until he was like putty in your hands, until he was feeling nothing but the way you moved on his lap, your hips gyrating on him. “I want out.” He said, slightly drawing back from the kiss. “Let’s get out of the tub.” 

You cupped his jaw and with your thumb, you played with his lower lip. How round and firm it felt, so plump and full. Ignoring him, you simply bent down and bit on it with small nibbles, using only your front teeth to test the density and texture of the flesh. 

It was just inhumanely thick. You reluctantly parted from his mouth, looking him in the eye, only to move your gaze downward, to inspect how reddened and abused his lower lip looked after your rough treatment. 

His hands slid on your wet skin, the water barely resisting his movements as he moved his hands from your waist to the small of your back, finally resting on your ass, gripping it aggressively. In reply, you bent to his neck, closing your lips around the indentation of his collarbone, feeling it with your teeth. 

The breathy moan that resulted made you so proud — and so aroused. 

“Let’s get out. I wanna...” He moaned as you wrapped your hands around his wrists, leading his palms to your breasts, silently telling him to go back to the gentle massage that complements the heaviness of your bosom and the suction on your nipples, now so acute that it almost resembled a pinching sensation. 

You went back to his mouth, still grinding on him, just as he tightened the suction cups even harder on your left nipple, his large palm and fingers holding your flesh as he kept the cup firm with his thumb and forefinger, the other hand spinning the small screw increasing the pressure. “Too tight?” He asked on your lips. 

You simply shook your head no, diving back to his lips. 

He did the same on your other nipple, your lips parting in a shameless mewl as your clit rubbed with one perfect stroke against his shaft, running through the whole length of it. “Jin.”

“For the love of god, Angel. Please, let’s get out of here.” He spoke with a voice so gruff he had to clear up his throat before he could speak smoothly. “I can’t get inside you like this.”

You kept moving against him, hoping for some relief. “Please.”

He shook his head. “If you let go of me we can get out and do this properly. I can’t do what I want in here.”

“And what is it that you want?” You teased, your hands sliding down his chest and dipping underwater to toy with his hard sex. 

“Let me go and I’ll show you.”

Pouting, a bit reluctant, you removed yourself from his lap, looking at him as he stood up in front of you. The position was interesting: you kneeling in the tub while he stood in front of you. 

Your mind screamed blowjob and you had no reasonable counterarguments to that, still he stopped you with a hand to your cheek. 

“Not here, love. Too risky.” He said, referring to the chances of slipping. He stepped out of the tub, his feet landing on the soft towel he had laid on the ground as he stretched to grab another towel to dry himself up. 

Yes, you did stare at his ass as he did so, looking at the taut muscle of his glute and letting your eyes slide further down, to the straight column of his thigh. 

As he stood up straight, he quickly dried himself wrapping the towel high on his waist, to try and hide his raging hard on, just a little. The lights of the bathroom were just a bit too bright and he felt a bit wary, even though he understood you had seen him naked and turned on so many times. 

Noticing his discomfort you sauntered out of the tub, walking to the mirror and switching on the small light, shortly before heading to the door and switching off the light on the ceiling. 

The atmosphere was suddenly completely different. It felt quiet and intimate. Right, even. 

“Better?” You asked Jin, walking towards him. 

He nodded with a grateful expression. “Yeah. Thank you.” He hugged you to him, frowning a bit at the sensation of the cups against his chest. “Do they hurt? Want me to take them off?” He asked, untucking the towel and looping it around the two of you, dragging you impossibly closer. 

“No, I think I can handle it.” You replied. You weren’t new to nipple play. Jin simply loves playing with your tits and he had all kinds of vicious devices to do so, the suction cups being arguably his favourite. You knew that this was just the beginning: cups and clamps and tweezers were only a way of sensitising. This was a mere appetizer to the whole meal that was about to come. Once your breasts felt heavy, sensitive and delicate, he would feast on them, licking them, biting them and using his tongue to tease them as he sucked your pert nipples into his mouth with slow and strong drags. He would knead them, his big hands covering them entirely and squeezing them with attentive rolls of his fingers. 

But for now he was simply staring at you, his eyelids low. He looked relaxed. 

Your hands wrapped around his torso, slowly working their way down his back. “May I start with my gift?” You blinked at him seducingly as you tried to kneel, your hands reaching the upper curve of his behind.

“Wait. Your knees.” He said, blushing before helping you up, gently inviting you to join him on the small, plush rug in front of the sinks. “Here. It should feel better.”

You looked at him with glimmering eyes. “You just worried about my knees?”

He raised his eyebrows and nodded. “Isn’t that a given?” He asked, hesitant. “We can do it on the floor if you prefer.” He suggested, dubious. 

You shook your head, smiling. “I just want to blow you ten times harder.”

He smirked, leaning against the counter and giggling as he observed you licking your lips and slowly lowering yourself on the carpet. Dragging your nails against his abdomen you checked on him quickly. “Is it too cold in here for you?”

Temperature always made him sensitive. “No, it’s nice.” He said, his hands combing your hair back as you kissed his thighs. 

“Good.” You replied, your hand flying to his thick erection, swallowing his tip straight away. 

“Warn me Angel, would you, goodness — Fuck!” He swore as you started bobbing your head straight away. You knew there was no way you could swallow him, so you simply focused on sucking him hard enough and using your hand to compensate for what your mouth couldn’t do. 

Using your drool on him as lubricant, you dragged your palm around the base, wrapping your fingers around him, your thumb and middle fingers barely meeting, and tugging at him energetically, making the muscles of your hands twitch around him, trying to mimick the contractions of your cunt on him, going hard and fast straight away, your goal making him cum as many times as possible. 

“Angel, love. Slow down, you’re gonna — Ah!” His sentence was interrupted by your hand coming to his balls, gently massaging them in an attempt to make him completely forget about words and anything that wasn’t your mouth on him. 

You dared look up, his throat taut and his head thrown back in pleasure, his hips thrusting into you, his hands toying with your hair lovingly. “So good.” He said as you sank down some more on him, two thirds of him into your mouth. You lasted a couple more seconds before coming up for air. 

“Is it relaxing enough?” You asked, extending the strokes of your hand to the tip, working your right thumb over the frenulum and the slit, rubbing it carefully while your left hand took care of the shaft. 

He simply moaned in response, thrusting into your fist, patting your hair, trying to keep himself from leading your mouth back on him.  

You smiled, “Has your birthday gift been satisfactory so far?” You asked with a grin. 

“Absolutely.” He replied with his breathing ragged, his voice hoarse, his vowels dragged a bit long as he spoke slowly, carefully, struggling to put the syllables together. 

“We’re all about customer satisfaction.” You replied, smiling innocently as he looked down at you. You licked your lips and kept the eye contact as you brought his tip to your mouth, smearing a small pearl of precum on the seam of your lips, before letting your tongue dart out and lick the salty liquid smeared on your lower lip. And next you licked him, noticing how his eyes blew wide with marvel and curiosity, only to flutter close with arousal and pleasure. 

With renewed excitement you sank on him as far as it would go, knowing that even though you were paying attention he was too thick for your teeth not to get in the way with a gentle scratch. Still, you sucked him hard, until he reached the back of your mouth, almost choking on him when you went a bit too fast. Your eyes watered but you went on enthusiastically, helping yourself with your hand. 

It was almost too easy. A small squeeze of his balls, matched with a tight downward thrust and his fingers curled into your hair, while the other hand flew away, gripping the sink hard to keep himself from pushing too deep into your mouth. With small, shallow thrusts — completely opposed to the sheer force and pressure he was exercising on his fists —, he fucked your mouth as gently as he could, in true gentleman fashion. No matter how crude and animalistic the action was, he managed to be so gentle throughout all of it, looking so beautiful as he slowly came undone, his legs giving out partly as you detached your mouth from him, only when he had spilt all he had. His knees gradually bent as he slid down against the counter and sank to the floor, on his knees, right in front of you. 

His mouth joined yours absentmindedly for a couple kisses, tender and light. “Are you okay?” He asked, looking at your reddened eyes and flushed cheeks. He ran his thumbs down the wet tracks of your tears. “That was… excellent.” He said, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I need you to lay down, Angel.”

You looked at him, blinking blankly. “Here?” You asked. 

He bent to kiss your neck, suckling at it a little. “Wanna move to bed?”

You shook your head. “I was just surprised.” Following his previous command, you sat on your hip and laid down, your back resting on the plush, cream rug, your legs bent and your knees placed together while the soles of your feet were still planted on the ground. 

Crawling, he moved to your feet, holding your calves and making you part your legs. 

Your eyes inspected his torso as he crawled on top of you. He bent down and kissed your forehead. “Is it cold?” He asked. 

You shook your head. 

Nice, he thought, sitting on his heels before his hands moved to your chest. “Let’s take these off, yeah?” He murmured gently as he unscrewed the system tightening the cup to your nipple before stretching to place it on top of the sink. He moved to the other breast, removing it faster this time, as if he were impatient. “Now let’s reward my little Angel.” He smiled at you kindly and that was the moment you knew you were done for. He was going to use you. He had that intense expression that always formed on his face when he played with you, using you for his pleasure. Scooting away from your inner thighs, he made space for his torso, looking at you as he licked a thick, slow stripe up against your slit, reaching your clit, sucking your arousal off your folds and into his mouth, savouring it with small, quiet clicks of his tongue against his palate. “I’m going to place it here.” He said, drawing a circle around your clit. 

You nodded like a madwoman, lifting yourself onto your elbows to look at him as he parted your labia, drawing a loose spiral around your clit before placing the cup there, giving just a couple spins on the screw, leaving the pressure fairly mild, but still securing a solid grip. 

The sensation was strange, like having your clit tugged but without being touched. Your hips shifted slightly as you got used to the feeling. “How is it?” He asked, attentive. 

“Strange. New. Overall good.” You replied, offering him feedback. 

“Good. Now, let me use these.” He murmured before placing his forearms beside each of your sides, leaning down to finally kiss your right nipple, then your left one, gingerly. 

“Baby,” you moaned slowly, as he shifted his weight again, trying to find a comfortable position to free his hands and place them on you. Balancing his weight on his thighs, he finally managed to place his palms on the flushed skin of your chest, kneading the full curves of it, while his fingers tweaked the two peaks. “Seokjin.”

“Yes, my Angel?” He replied, softer now that you’d spoken his full name. 

“It feels so good.” You murmured quietly, eyes closing as your inner muscles contracted, your clit responding to the suction and to the tightening of your inner walls. 

“Keep touching them for me, will you, love?” He asked, at which you frowned, confused, almost ready to ask why when you noticed his hands moving to the suction cup, adding a couple spins before he placed his hands on his length. 

“Is it okay?” He asked, giving a tentative pump. 

Once more you tried lifting yourself up to look at him, your brow furrowing when you didn’t feel him entering you. He looked so beautiful, with his dark, thick eyebrows knitted together, quivering whenever a wave of pleasure rolled down his spine, making his hips undulate forward seducingly. 

While your left forearm kept your torso up, your right hand was free to roam over your chest, massaging your right breast with slow tugs drawing all the blood to the peak, for which Jin bent down, his mouth eager to complete your hand’s ministration. 

“I’m close again.” He said, with a half delighted, half desperate snicker. His mouth parted wider, his lips settling around your puffy areola, where the cup had left a slight indentation. Freeing your left arm from below you, you tried down as gently as you could. 

“Cum on me.” You said, throwing your head back, showing him the fine column of your neck. 

He kept rubbing his lips against your sensitive skin as he spoke. “We just washed, you sure?” 

“We’ll need to rinse once we’re done with this just the same.” You replied, your hand dipping into his damp hair, pushing his mouth against your boob.

“I love you.” He mouthed before sucking your neglected nipple shortly but intensely. He struggled a bit as he straddled your waist. “I wanna...” He began, before you placed your hands on his hips, pushing him down, making him rest his ass on your stomach, his weight held up mostly by his thighs in an attempt not to squish you. Immediately you took his erection between your breasts, using the slight sheen of wetness left from the bath to help him slide. You knew you had little time before it dried up and everything got uncomfortable. Pressing your boobs together, you matched the long, powerful strokes of his hips, just as his moans started getting higher and higher in pitch, shorter and more desperate, the air in his lungs suddenly feeling not enough. His breath was so shallow when he thrusted out of the small cage of your breasts, his hand moving so, so fast before his left palm landed beside of your head, on the floor, holding him up as he came all over your breasts, whining weakly as he spilled messily, his release reaching your chin and cheek with the first spurt while the others landed more controlledly on your chest and stomach, his hand still milking his cock weakly before he stopped. 

His eyes opened just in time to see you collect his cum from your cheek with your fingertip, his ears feeling very hot as you brought the liquid to your lips, cleaning your digit. Next, you lolled your tongue out, trying to reach for the rest of it on your chin and at the corner of your mouth. 

Carefully, he tried to stand up, helping himself with the counter nearby. Once he was on his feet, as steady as he could be, he wet a corner of the towel under the tap, sitting at your side to clean you up. 

“I’ll be very forward now, Angel.” He said, cleaning your cheek and your chin before moving down between your breasts, dabbing the towel against the stain before swiping away what was left. “I really wanna pound into you on this tiny rug in our lovely bathroom, but if you prefer, we can move to the bedroom anytime you want.” He explained. 

You looked at him like you weren’t even sure it was your Seokjin kneeling at your side, your eyes wide as saucers. “Excuse me. You’re the same boy who thought that birthday sex was rose petals, champagne, silk sheets, dimmed lights and background music?”

It was his turn to stare at you with wide eyes. “Did you want that?” 

He had fucked up. He was already thinking what to do to fix the situation, trying to imagine what he could do to offer you the whole—

“For the love of god, no. Rail me on the bathroom rug. Please.” You begged, wide eyed and needy, especially when — squeezing your thighs together — you were reminded of the accessory between your legs. 

He laughed vivaciously before throwing the towel away, grabbing your knees and making you part them. 

“You wanna be railed on the bathroom rug?” He asked, teasing you. 

“Yes, sir.” You replied, playful, but also taunting his dormant dominant side. 

“How naughty.” He said, splaying his hand on your crotch, his palm snug against your hole while his fingers parted around your clit, the cup sitting between his middle and ring finger. As he settled, kneeling between your bent legs, he applied some pressure, arousing you just like that. “Is that your idea of birthday sex? Getting railed?” He said. 

He loved the word. Because it was literally that. Raw and crude and fast. And it drives you insane, which, subsequently, drives him insane. 

“I forgot it’s your idea of any kind of sex.” His hand started sliding a few millimetres back and forth, mimicking the sensation of skin brushing against skin like when he moved into you, his pelvis stimulating the outer parts of your sex while his cock plunged deep into you, giving you something thick and long to squeeze with your inner muscles. 

“Because you’re dirty like that, uh?” He asked, using his left hand to titillate the cup, the sudden movement causing your clit to shift and your kegels to twitch a few times. 

“I’m your dirty angel.” You said, wetness pouring out of your cunt and meeting his palm, suddenly slipping against you. 

“You are.” He murmured appreciatively. “Let’s see how long it takes for my Angel to get ready for me.” He said, placing his left forefinger on top of the screw of the suction cup and pushing it around, leading your clit in small circular movements, while his right fingers and palm retracted and, in one fine sleight of hand, his index and middle finger slipped inside you. 

“Jin!” You screeched, the invasion too sudden and thorough. 

“Don’t worry, my darling angel. I’m just warming you up.” He said with dark eyes, lifting an eyebrow before scissoring his fingers inside. 

“So good.” You babbled, your eyes crossing and rolling shut, enjoying the tugging, sucking feeling on your clit, mixed with the slight circular tugs, and then the filling, pumping and spreading sensation of his fingers moving inside. “It’s too good.”

“I know, Angel.” He pressed a kiss to your knee. “It’s too good for little demons like you.” He tugged at the cup a couple times, until it miserably unlocked and fell off. 

“No.” You cried out weakly. 

“Oh, you prefer the cup to my mouth?” He asked, stopping his transition as he was trying to bring his head close to your lap. 

“No. I want your mouth. Please. Use your mouth.” You begged, just as he grinned and bent down, catching your clit with his lips and licking it heavily. The wet feel of his tongue after the dry, vacuum feeling of the toy was exquisite. 

“Just another finger, darling.” He said, extracting his digits and rubbing his ring finger up and down your slit, coating it in wetness before he pushed three together and placed them on your entrance, sliding them in slowly. 

A slow, quiet cry accompanied his movement, from the moment he slipped the tip in to the moment his knuckles met your flesh. “There you go, Angel. Better get used to it, I’ll give you a couple minutes.” He warned you, before he began tentatively massaging your inner walls with his fingertips, with tiny pumping motions, while at the same time kissing the apex of your labia. 

“In, please, now Jin.” You begged. 

“You sure?” He asked, parting from your clit hesitantly. 

You nodded energetically. “Please.” You repeated, parting your legs further. 

Following your lead, he moved his forearm beside your head to prop himself up, his hand pulling out and landing on his erection. He hoped he would last just one more round. Doing multiples like this was not his thing anymore. He snickered. 

“What is it?” You asked, looking up at him with a confused glance. 

“Just considering that I’m not a teenager anymore. Three rounds is… wow. Long time no see.” He murmured, blushing a little, but still opening up about his fleeting thoughts. 

You laughed underneath him. “Indeed.” You said. You considered things a little. “You need more time, love? It’s absolutely okay, you know? It’s late, you’re tired, it’s been a long day.” You said, trying to show him you understood him and there was nothing wrong. 

“Don’t worry love,” He said, kissing your neck as he dragged his tip against your slit. “I’m not that old yet.” He said, smirking as he sank in with one slow, thorough stroke. 

“Oh my god, Jin, yes.” You moaned as he bottomed out. His hand parted from his sex and reached your mouth, his wet fingers sliding past your lips and laying flat on your tongue. “To help you keep quiet.” He said, before he pulled out and slammed violently into you. 

Your muffled cry echoed in the room as he stilled for a second, drawing out slowly before thrusting back in forcefully. 

“Like this?” He asked, breath strained as he held himself up. “Wanna be railed like this?”

You shook your head no teasingly, at which he he removed the fingers in your mouth, letting you speak. “Faster, harder.”

He stared into your eyes as he was buried deep inside you. “Then you better keep quiet Angel, because I need both arms for leverage.”

You nodded. 

“Legs around my waist, or bend them to your chest and spread them. You choose.” He suggested, settling in his position. 

You crossed your ankles behind his back without second thought. 

“You good like that, darling?” He asked, using his hand to cup your cheek, at which you nodded, observing his face, the way his hair had almost completely dried by now, how flushed he looked, how his eyelids looked heavy and his eyes lust fuelled and intense. You had no other adjective to describe them but ‘intense’. 

“Yes, Jin.” You replied, anchoring your hands on his shoulders. 

“Nice.” He said before giving a small stroke, drawing out only partly and then sinking in again. 

You bit your lip and gave a small grunt. 

“Love you, Angel.” He murmured, running his thumb against your cheekbone. 

And like that, he gave up on his human side and set the beast free. His pace was wild, the crude sound of thighs meeting thighs, his crotch slapping against your lap and belly, your breasts bouncing wildly at each of his attacks. 

It all unravelled quickly. The sense of fullness inside you and, at the same time, his cock stretching your walls repeatedly and furiously, punching your cervix, and rubbing against your g-spot so deliriously: it was all too much. 

“Cumming. Jin, love, I’m— Please.” And with a broken plea you let yourself come undone for him. 

And he resisted. 

It was tough, but the two previous highs had somehow dulled the edge and he managed to outlive the tight squeezing of your inner muscles. 

You were still fucked out when he decided to keep going, enjoying the tightness of your cunt after the orgasm, his hand connecting with the back of your knee, holding it up by his side as he pinned you down, studying your blissful expression before attacking his lips to your left nipple, sucking it. “Touch yourself.” He growled as he felt his end nearing. 

“Too much.” You whimpered, screeching. 

“Touch yourself.” He growled again, not allowing any opposition. 

And like that you obeyed, crying out as your abused, sensitive clit was met by your digit, rubbing it weakly. 

“Close. Make yourself cum, Angel.” He ordered gruffly, his voice hoarse and cavernous, oh so serious in his commandeering tone. 

“Trying.” You replied, huffing out a stressed breath.

“Faster.” He said, hiking your leg higher up, bending it all the way to your shoulder. 

You complied. 

His teeth sank at the crook of your neck. “More.” He said, his hips moving in a harsh staccato, taking a small pause between one plunge and the next. 

“Not cumming without you. Quick, Angel.” He growled. 

He shifted his weight on his other arm, freeing his left and using it to help your other knee up to your shoulder. 

His cock felt enormous inside you now that the bent legs made him meet the last few untouched spots inside your cunt. “Fuck, fuck Jin, quick.” You cried out, completely shocked by how deep you could feel it. He arched off of you, pressing even harder against your cervix. 

He felt the shift immediately. The wetness left from your previous high and the tightness due to the new position made him shut his eyes tight. 

“Jin, please. Hard and fast. please.” You cried out, desperate. 

And he delivered. 

You lasted maybe a minute before your eyes rolled shut, head thrown back, all your erogenous zones on fire. Your hand shot away from your clit, your breathing stopping out of the blue, your ears suddenly unsensitive to any stimulus, the twitching of your thighs and the trembling of your calves turning into an earthquake before stopping entirely. You froze. 

And then Jin’s hand moved between your legs, rubbing your clit a few more times as he delivered the last few strokes, hard and punishing. 

Crying out, you threw your hands against him, trying to remove him from your clit, but he fought harder, determined on seeing you toss and thrash below him. 

Which you did. 

The overstimulation was cruel and drew tears to your eyes, your mouth moving, forming words that your ears couldn’t fully comprehend as your legs shook violently again, your hands gripping his shoulders, sinking your nails in, before slapping at them. 

You were just a body spasming against his. Nothing more. 

You had no control over yourself. 

And Jin hadn’t either. 

You collapsed on the rug, trying to open your eyes in vain. 

Jin’s body fell on top of yours, pulling out of you delicately. The moment he didn’t hear your protest, he worried. “You okay, my love?” He asked. “Too far?”

He only heard your small grunt. 

That made him proud. Fucking you into complete exhaustion was yet a feat he had to accomplish. He could tick a new box on his list. Still, he had to check on you. “I need to hear your voice, my darling Angel.” He said urgently and sweetly. 

“Jinnie?” You called weakly. 

“Yes, love.” He replied, caressing your cheek. 

“What…?” You asked.

“I think your nerves went in a bit of an overload.” He suggested, giggling. “You looked like you were feeling very, very good.”

“I was.” You moaned, wrapping yourself around him. 

“Is it a good idea to get a quick shower before we go to bed?” He asked. “Are you feeling strong enough for that?” He asked you, kissing your mouth. 

“I might need to move very slowly and be assisted through it.” You said before chuckling.

“Was it a nice birthday railing?” He asked, rolling on his side and sitting up. He was happy the bathroom had floor heating. 

“Very nice.” You replied, sitting up yourself. Looking down you bit your lip. “We’ll have to wash the rug.”

He shrugged. “Later. Now let me take care of my little freak.” 

And just like that, you were in the shower, washing it all off before he carried you to bed. 

He wasn’t sure what made it work, but he did feel relaxed. Accomplished even. He had had beautiful, kinky, rough sex with his girlfriend, with no sense of guilt, no pent up anger, no hard feelings. He felt like he wasn’t really sleeping with you in your room. He felt like you and him were floating on cloud nine, bathing in warmth and moonlight. 

It felt like poetry. 

He kissed your temple and settled you in front of him, spooning you. “Goodnight, my Angel.” He mouthed against your neck. 

You snuggled into his embrace. “Happy late birthday, baby. Goodnight.”

[itsemmyb]

20-04-2020

quarantine has given me a lot of time to read fanfics so i decided to put together a list of some of my faves just to show some appreciation to the writers for providing us with entertainment in this trying time.

please note: * indicates smut

the witcher

geralt

in the garden of you bed, i bloom by @owillofthewisps * - soft, pure, little spoon geralt! it's so fluffy even the smut is adorable.

the black blade by @whitewolfandthefox - badass assassin falling for their target over time as they observe them? yes please!

paths by @witchernonsense - modern day geralt! there's so much love and care coming from geralt in this fic. i'm soft!

betrayed by @yewfandoms - i'm a slut for angst and this is the angstiest angst.

úlfur minn by @scarlettwitcher * - mutual pining! badass couples fighting together! geralt being an idiot! (angsty alternate ending)

kindness by @vivodinson * - we find out where geralt learned his amazing skills in bed from and it's the sweetest and fluffiest! hozier pairs wonderfully with this one.

beautiful and damned by @dreamwritesimagines - these two emotionally constipated assholes make me feel like knocking their heads together sometimes but god i can't get enough of them.

jaskier

secrets are no fun by @thewitcheress2389 - fluff! angst! overprotective dad!jaskier! bless.

untitled drabble by @ficsandcatsandficsandcats - jaskier getting the pampering and love that he so deserves, adorable!

geraskier

untitled drabble by @a-kind-of-merry-war - father's day fluff! we love our little dysfunctional family.

a silent love by @whitewolfandthefox - (this one is technically geraskefer) the angst, my eyes welled up reading this, pure heartache bandaged by fluff at the end.

marvel

steve rogers

no promises by @manawhaat (steve rogers x maria hill) - i never considered this ship before now but mana has given us idiots in love, pining and has shown us the way.

crown of thorns by @moonstruckbucky - in the beginning stages but i'm lovin it so far!

natasha romanoff

who's in control by @darling-little-doe * - ohhhhh the filth! dom!natasha, i need a cold shower!

tony stark

tony the idiot by @iwillbeinmynest - tony being a cute little shit, marriage proposals, i'm lov.

peter parker

far from you trilogy by @hey-marlie * - we got fluff, we got angst, we got smut, we got mutual pining, we got idiots in love. what more could you want?

stranger things

billy hargrove

head over heels by @withoutaplease * - fluff, angst, and eventual smut with our favourite asshole all written wonderfully!

steve harrington

never have i ever by @blueberrylemontea-fanfic * - steve learns how to give oral and surprise surprise, he's a gotdamn natural.

jim hopper

a way to a man's heart by @imamotherfuckingstar-lord - you know we got them daddy issues and hopper is a thicc king who deserves all the love!

misc

ransom drysdale

the assistant by @trillian-anders * - listen, ransom drysdale is a dick wad, a straight up stink boi, absolute garbage man BUT this series almost made me change my opinion of him.

4 months by @princess-of-riviaa * - garbage boi's back at it again, makin us horny and being a piece of shit.

henry cavill

comfort me by @hlkwrites * - oof, i wish i had a henry to do this with after a long day of work.

nicked by @viking-raider - henry being an adorable little shit and stealing the reader's clothing when he leaves to shoot, cutest crap ever!

there's something on your shirt by @neganslucille1994 - short and sweet. domestic henry! kal being a cutie pie! all the fluff!

[agent-cupcake]

Imagine having a child with a guy named Jimmy. Cursed.

OTHERWISE you all pretty much echoed what I was thinking, bless you.

cw pregnancy / forced pregnancy

(As ever, this is all in the context of dark personalities. I hesitate to say yandere, although that’s kind of become synonymous with dark personality AU’s and an obvious argument can be made that a darker take on the characters could lead into a yandere scenario) 

Ferdinand von Aegir

~While I don’t think he’d go out of his way to have a baby, he definitely wouldn’t take any steps to avoid it, either. That is, he wouldn’t really stray into breeding kink territory or anything of that kind but he’s not gonna pull out either. 

~But, yeah, if you were to get pregnant, Ferdinand wouldn’t be displeased by any means. He’d legitimately think it was the best way to “fix” things and out of a misguided attempt to ignore any negative aspects of the relationship and cling to the idealism of a happy marriage. 

~Just a side note, but I def see him with a body worship kink and I can only begin to imagine how that would intensify with his weakness for the softness and so-called beauty of motherhood. Whatever that’s supposed to mean.   

~Honestly, I don’t see him overtly leveraging  as a manipulation tactic. No, he’s good enough that his genuine feelings could do the job for him. Like, it’s not just you anymore. You’re responsible for another life so don’t you think you just trust him and let him take care of you? Oh, sure, he’d humor you (on account of the hormones) and say that he understands why you’re upset, but please just calm down. Everything will be all right, he’ll take care of you. 

~I think that Ferdinand would want a family even without the whole dark personality aspect. The way he’d see it is that children are a natural result of a union and love. He’d absolutely cherish your children if for no other reason than the fact that they’d be half you, although you can’t tell me that he wouldn’t have a horrible weakness for kids.  

~You’d be barely showing and he’d be picking out baby names and getting opinions on how to decorate the nursery and occasionally freaking out due to anticipation and nerves. He’d be really, disastrously, over-the-top protective, too. I just assume white magic would greatly lessen the infant and mother mortality rate but that doesn’t entirely remove the risk of complications so he’d be cloyingly careful about everything you ate, keeping tabs on any possible oddity going on with you. And, you know, I think he would enjoy emotionally taking care of you. Like if you were scared or sad or anything, I think he’d enjoy comforting you in a way that’s definitely not healthy. He’d enjoy being needed, I suppose.

~Yeah, so overall I view any sort of darker personality take on Ferdinand to be him, but with his sweet and noble and protective traits dialed up to an eleven without any sort of self awareness to make him pause and consider that maybe you don’t feel the same so having a child like this, as an intentional act of manipulation to make you stay or not, would be within the realm of possibilities.

Sylvain Jose Gautier (Bastard Man)

~Sylvain is pretty easy to imagine with a dark personality. I mean, assuming you have no pity in your heart and are willing to write him in a way that he never was able to get over his myriad issues, self hatred, severe distrust of people’s true intentions, and familial trauma.

~Assuming all that, and entertaining the idea that he could never find a good balance of repression and escapism, I think Sylvain would create an unhealthy emotional bond to a single person he believed to be exempt from his overall dismal regard for people and do this fun little thing where he’d chaotically flip flop between extreme emotions of distrust, blame, and anger and adoration, need, and a desperation to be seen as he was and still loved. 

~But it’d be a brutal cycle because he’s not the delusional type. Sometimes he could be, both with the good and the bad, but those would be kind of episodic. There’d be bad days where he’d be utterly convinced that you were just like the rest and he’d pick little fights and generally just be pretty pissy. But then sometimes he’d be blinded by love and so caught up in it that even if you told him no, he’d take it with a cheeky wink because of course you loved him and everything was so good. But, mostly, it’d just be a lot of dysfunction and Sylvain trying to lure you into a nice, good relationship with him by being mostly normal and decently charming and even, occasionally, being vulnerable (and tricking you into being vulnerable with him). 

~Anyway, back to the point. With all that context, why not bring a baby into the mix, right?    

~How many times does Sylvain bring up crest babies. Please, someone do a hard count and get back to me because damn son. So, may I just say, if anyone of these three were to have a breeding kink it’d be him. Is that controversial? Just think about it. Every girl ever wants him mystical crest cum, right? So, mentally, the whole thing would have a lot of weight and significance. Also Sylvain just strikes me as the type who’d be self aware enough of his dark and unhealthy needs that staking as intimate of a claim as that would be erotic. Unlike the other two, the act of forcing an irreversible and tangible change in your body and mind would be interesting. Not that he’d tell you any of that, or even dwell on it himself. 

~I’m torn between Sylvain saying it was an accident and him using the argument that since the two of you were in love, it was only natural that you’d start a family together. How could you not want to have his children? Better yet, how was he supposed to know that you wanted to wait. 

~But if you continued to be unreasonable, he’d go on the defensive. Like, what are you going to do? Leave him? For what? To raise his baby on your own? Or, worse, abandon your child? If you thought he’d voiced unfairly negative opinions about women before, the way he’d talk about a mother who abandoned her child and such a good, happy life with a loving husband would be infinitely worse. After all, he wanted to make a change in your relationship and be happy together. He wanted to be a good, loving father. He wanted a family with you. After everything, what kind of person would you be to throw that all away?

~So that’s... a lot. 

~But Sylvain’s the type to be awful in the moment then regret it after the heat dies down. Knowing he’d hurt you would genuinely tear him up inside. All of that adoration and desperation to keep you with him because he’d feel like he needed you to be happy would kick in and he’d break down under the guilt and tell you how much he loved you, how happy it made him to think that the two of you could have a family, that he knew you would be a great mother, that he knew he’d messed up but he would make it up to you, that you really could be a happy family. 

~Just saying, I can see him taking a perverse sort of pleasure in the physical effects of pregnancy. Also, he’d definitely be a lot softer with you. Guilty conscience, anyone?

Dimitri (Dimi) (Jimmy)

~You, dear anon, said it better than I could have myself. I agree SO HARD that Dimitri would be terrified of being a parent, but at the same time I think, if it were to happen, he’d be utterly enamored with the idea. There’s a lot more that I think about how he’d regard fatherhood, but that’s the gist. 

~Funny thing is, darker Dimitri is just like... More needy... unbearably protective... Paranoid... less stable... bad at managing his emotions when it comes to you... But, like, the same general emotions about fatherhood would apply because that’s already pretty complex. Only, this time, with an obvious emphasis on how it would effect you and your relationship. 

~I was going to say that I can’t see Dimitri purposefully impregnating you, but that’s not entirely true. In a fit where he’s feeling especially raw and paranoid, I think he would do it very purposefully and even almost-kinda-sorta relish in the idea. 

~I view his obsessive feelings to be like an itch he can’t quite scratch because he knows better than anybody how easy it would be to lose you and doesn’t know how to manage both his own instability with the unpredictable world because at any moment it could all spiral apart. 

~So, this in mind, he could believe that having a baby would make things different. More than just vows or words or rings or anything, it would be a concrete and absolute tie between the two of you. He would have an unquestionable claim over you that would go beyond the scope of just your relationship, you’d be carrying the royal heir which would give Dimitri even further valid excuses to be suffocatingly overprotective.

~It would be... So messy... On the one hand, I think the concept of fatherhood, of being given another chance, of being needed that much more by both you and the child, would really appeal to him. It could even sand off some of the rougher edges of his darker traits, now that he had this assured security in keeping you with him. Sure, the itch wouldn’t be scratched entirely, but it would be easier to ignore, there would be a solid way to reassure himself that you were his.   

~But Dimitri’s got this awful middle ground of self awareness. Anything that would come off delusion would be a result of his endless attempts at rationalizing his unhealthy feelings and trying to make sense of it all without having to actually confront the issues. But that wouldn’t mean he wouldn’t know, on some level, that what he was doing wasn’t healthy and how bad it was for you. The guilt would be intense, which would be apart of the reason he needed to keep you so close all the time because then he could pretend that you needed him just as badly, that everything was all right because he could take care of you better than anyone else. 

~Dimitri’s self aware guilt would allow a part of himself to understand that he should let you go. He could even, on the bad days, convince himself that maybe, one day, he would allow you to leave him because he loved you, because what he was doing was wrong. As long as you were near him, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself, he would always hurt you. 

~But using pregnancy to force you to stay with him would, perhaps even in an intentional subconscious way, cut off that last-ditch contingency to ease his own guilt and pain of what he was doing by keeping you with him. Now that you were going to be having his child, the royal heir, would mean that you could never leave. He’d know it. You would probably know it, too. 

~After that point, Dimitri would double down with proving his affection, proving that he was capable of taking care of you and his child and that you could be a family and everything would be okay. 

[sou-ver-2-0]

Hello 💜 I might have been spamming you a bit with the likes but I really do enjoy your meta💜 I also wanted to mention that I really do like the way Reko says she wants to reach out to Shin if you go Reko/Sou route? Gin and Reko being worried about him (w/ Gin likely feeling guilt for having voted for Kanna) was pretty sweet, especially with him treating Gin nicely in general and Reko having tried to get him open up early into 2-2 Main Game too? I don't think that route will end well but (p1)

(p2) I would honestly dig Reko and Shin being on friendly terms if the cast made out, especially with how Alice/Kanna route has Alice ending up being a big bro protector figure to Kanna, while Reko the only adult Shin has yet to be betrayed by that's alive and had the sense to vote for him than Kanna is the younger sister who plays big sis to a good deal of the cast. It's just an interesting thing actually, that how dysfunctional Reko/Sou route vs Alice/Kanna is?

(p3) With former, there is still some awkwardness compared to Reko/Kanna with Reko having already taken a big sisterly role with her, but Alice is more than willing to look out for this child, while with Reko/Sou you can see that Reko genuinely feels bad for him and wants to amend things, yet Kanna's death really was the last straw for Shin that at best she is going to get Shin not looking out for chances to actively harm her (or Gin) while they might be collateral damage anyway.

Part idk bc I forgot to mention: I like how his "I-I wouldn't leave you behind..." to Gin right after they visit Gashu's secret room sounds like he is hurt that he would think he would leave a primary schooler back if he found an escape path too, especially with him in ch 1 saying Gin should rest with him and Kanna and likely having planned to look out for him too, if Gin wouldn't have said he gives him weird vibes and stuck to Sara. And offers him snacks to leave him work in Nao's room gfkfg

Okay I swear last part but I forgot to mention that I also like that Gin says he hates loner but doesn't want him to die/says he feels sorry for him for smelling gloomy and he is actually one of the members who while saying he hates him in 2-2 Main Game, he also does get worried for the "outsider" types, saying he is worried they might not get enough clear chips? That said wow bullied by a primary schooler rip Shin

Hello there! I really enjoy your meta too! 💜

I absolutely love this ask. You wrote so much, so I wish I could think of interesting things to say, but all I want to say is “I love Shin’s relationships with Gin and Reko too!! I love them so much!!”

I suppose, in a way, Gin and Reko act as a barometer for how a “normal, decent person” would react to Shin. They are suspicious of him and sympathetic towards him at all the right moments in the narrative. They are neither as cynical as Keiji nor as optimistic as Kanna. But they are hilarious and I love that for them!

Like, you just mentioned all these genuinely sweet moments for them. But if I can pull up some contentious memories:

REKO: I'm gonna take that bastard out, I swear...!!

GIN: I bet he's just hiding under the bed in his room or something, woof!!

REKO: Perfect spot for a treacherous ass like him! Let's check it out!

This comes from the beginning of Chapter 2 when the whole team is on a witch hunt for Shin, and I just! I love how eager and aggressive they are in their pursuit of justice, oh my god haha. I love how well they both team up against him. It’s such fantastic dark humor.

Then I love how you can tell from Nankidai’s writing that Reko aggressively shakes Shin when they finally find him!

KANNA: What in the world happened?

SOU: Eh...? / T... That's what I wanna know... / Where is this place... When did I get here...?

REKO: Cram it, you bastard...! Like hell anybody's gonna worry about you now! / What're you plotting?! Tell me!

SOU: W... Waugh?! Hold on...!

KEIJI: Now, now. Violence isn't the answer, Reko.

REKO: Tch...!!

SOU: W... What is it...? You're so mean suddenly...

Featuring a bonus obnoxious “Now now” from Keiji, LMAO get a load of this filthy hypocrite.

I just love to imagine Reko grabbing Shin by the scarf and shaking him! Nankidai blesses us with the wackiest scenarios.

Also remember when Gin wanted to scribble on Shin’s doll??

GIN: Let’s scribble on the loner’s doll, meow!

SARA: Gin…

CHOICE: Don’t get us caught

SARA: Safalin will find out. Don’t touch them.

GIN: Meow! You’ll live to see another day, loner!

And they always call him “Beanie Man” and “Loner” instead of his name… They crack me up so much!! I could go on and on about them!

Anyway, the only reason I bring up these contentious moments is to highlight how sweet it is that they don’t actually hate Shin at all. As you pointed out, they end up sympathizing a lot with him! If Shin was just being his regular vulnerable self, they would probably be protective of him. (And just a little bit teasing!) I think that speaks very well for both Reko and Gin. It shows what genuine good souls they are.

I also love that you pointed to examples of Shin being protective of Gin! It’s lovely to imagine that if Shin hadn’t taken on the Sou persona, we could have seen more “big brother Shin” moments like that! Personally, I’m very fond of imagining Shin as a good big brother figure towards all three children in the Simulations. I want to think, in his true heart, Shin is someone who couldn’t stand to see the children die before him.

That makes it all the more tragic if they end up becoming collateral damage for Shin’s revenge. :(

I also love to imagine that they could become friends if Shin lived, and if things worked out just a little bit better. I don’t believe Shin actively hates them. Reko voted for him, and he would just hate Sara more for “tricking” Gin into helping to murder Kanna. I don’t know if Shin…wants to live anymore…in the route where Kanna dies… But if they managed to escape, I think Reko and Gin would both worry a lot about him! And they would want to help him. I’m certain!

Thanks for sharing your thoughts with me. I’m a huge, huge fan of the loner’s relationships with the rock star and the furry kid. Seeing fan art or fanfiction of them being actual friends gets straight to my heart.

[niksixx]

My Pal, My Buddy, My Best Friend.

Requested: My idea 

Pairing: The Dirt! Mick Mars x Female Reader 

Description: Mick’s life as a single father 

A/N: Your support is always welcome. Thank you so much. 

*Picture is NOT mine. Found on Google. Credit to the owner.* 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He remembers the day you left.

Seven years later, it’s still crystal clear.

It was a day filled with lots of crying, from both Mick and the baby boy, pacing around the house, hair tugging, numerous phone calls to Vince, and a boatload of insecurities.

The pregnancy had been an accident, the product of a drunken one night stand that you and Mick had tried to make work for the sole purpose of not wanting your child to grow up in a broken home. You’d only met that night, moving into Mick’s home within the next month after finding out you were carrying his child.

As your stomach began to grow a new life, Mick grew more and more excited to have a child even if he was a bit nervous at first. On the other hand, you couldn’t have felt more indifferent. Sure, Mick was kind, generous enough to welcome you into his house, to give you and your child a place to call home, but deep down you knew you weren’t ready to be a mother or for the responsibilities that came along with motherhood. But you pushed forward for the sake of your unborn child, hoping that one day, you’d wake up and feel differently.  

It was a rough pregnancy, something you hoped to never experience again. Morning sickness. Back pain. Swollen breasts. Leaking nipples. Fatigue. Heartburn. Hypertension. It was all there, taking a toll on your body from the moment you found out you were pregnant to the day you gave birth, which was also not the best day, as you had been in labor for thirty hours prior to delivery.

The moment Mick saw his son was the moment his heart filled with an indescribable love.

The moment you saw your son was the moment you knew you couldn’t do it.

~~~

The first day home after leaving the hospital was torture.

Your son cried. You cried.

Your son ate every few hours. You barely ate anything at all.

Your son went through eight diapers in one day. There was no time to go to the bathroom.

Some mothers made it look so easy and enjoyable.  

Inside, the insecurities chewed away any sliver of confidence you had until finally one night you gave up on your sweet baby boy. Walking away from your son, the life you created, would either be the biggest blessing or your greatest mistake. With the way you were feeling, you could only hope you wouldn’t regret leaving. You weren’t meant to be a mom, and you couldn’t force yourself to be one, even if it was morally wrong to walk away.

When he had finally fallen asleep, you slipped downstairs in the late hours of the night while Mick and your child slept soundly, fresh tears springing to your eyes as you quietly packed what little you had before scribbling a farewell note.

~~~

Mick had never felt more vulnerable, more hurt, more unsure, than when he found your note that next morning.

You handled the pregnancy so well. Or so he thought.

You were excited to have the baby. Or so he thought.

You were ready. Or so he thought.

Somehow, Mick had missed the signs.

How was he supposed to do this alone? You were supposed to raise your child together, rely on each other.

He needed you. Your son needed you.

And you walked out, vanished without a trace.

Mick needed to step up, play the role of both mother and father. It wouldn’t be easy, but he was determined to give your child the best life possible, with or without you.

~~~

Fast forward seven years and Mick had done just that.

As a single parent, Mick had provided more than enough for his son. He had his material goods like toys, a trampoline, and a pool in the backyard, but he also had the things you couldn’t see: happiness, protection, and love.

His little boy had adjusted to Mick’s lifestyle better than most children would have. On the road, Mick hired a private tutor for his son to keep him up to date on schoolwork, and at night he loved watching his father on stage during concerts, cheering him on from the side as their manager Doc held the boy on his shoulders.

Even without a mother, the little boy grew up to be loved. He was close with his uncles Vince, Tommy, and Nikki, and their children. They went on trips and celebrated holidays together as one big, dysfunctional family would.

It wasn’t until the little boy turned seven that Mick realized how much his son had saved him, changed him, taught him. Of course, Mick was still a human who had insecurities as every other parent, but when he looked at his son, he knew in his heart he had done something right. The boy was taken care of and loved immensely.

Mick didn’t need you. As the years went on, he became fully capable of raising his child alone. He preferred it that way, just him and his boy.

It amazed Mick how much his son had inherited from him, from his eye color down to his fascination with guitars and music. The little boy and his father bonded over rock music and had makeshift concerts in their backyard. They were the best of friends, and Mick wouldn’t have it any other way.

He thought about you every now and again, wondering where in the world you were, what you were doing, if maybe you had another family. Even after you’d left, Mick still hoped for the best for you.

He wouldn’t change anything, though. Not the nights he cried himself to sleep. Not the times his insecurities got the best of him. Not the times he struggled to keep it together. There was stress, tons of it, and most of the time he was lonely, but the hard times brought lessons.

Mick learned a lot after you walked away. He learned that being a single father was a lot harder than it looked, but seeing your son so happy was the greatest reward. He learned to appreciate his friends more. Vince, Nikki, and Tommy were wonderful uncles and they never hesitated to offer their help. Mick learned that yes, even if he was a single parent, it was okay to rely on others for help every now and then.

The bond between Mick and your son was unbreakable. They were each other’s biggest fan and best friend. And though being a single father was a challenge, in Mick’s eyes, he had overcome the hard parts. He wouldn’t dwell on the past or the things he couldn’t change.

His time, his focus, his energy, was on the little boy that continued to inspire him each and everyday.

[morsquiesa]

𝐁𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐀 𝐃𝐈 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐎: 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄, 𝐃𝐘𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐒, 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘.

Since it is mentioned that Bianca has children, I thought it would be the time to elaborate on Bianca’s family since I realized my blog lacks the content. So up until to the point where Bianca resigns from the hunters and starts working for Hades as an ambassador, there are three alternate paths for her that I adore. 

The first possibility is the most independent and ready to explore verse for Bianca, which is the one where after her resign, Bianca never properly returns to the surface again to live there, and over time becomes a permanent member of the underworld. I am looking forward to developing this path, because I find it quite interesting to study how Bianca makes herself a place in the underworld, what kind of a dynamic she has with Hades and Persephone, what kind of dynamics she has with the other residents and deities, what kind of a part she plays in the order of things and formation. In this option, the only family Bianca has left is her brother, Nico di Angelo, but since her joining to the hunters of Artemis their relationship is strained and they don’t talk to each other, so him making an appearance is going to be rare in the threads and mentions of him won’t be joyful ones. ( I will write another meta post about this, so it’s a more detailed conversation for later.) Her relationship with her mother, Maria di Angelo, is also another long topic that I will talk about in a different post. But to sum it up, she has no family members she is actively talking to or has good relationship with.  

  The second alternate is the same as the first one, but Bianca keeps living on the surface instead of moving in to the underworld for good. She is still not talking to Nico, she is refusing to live in the camp. ( Another meta post.) She has an apartment in New Manhattan that Hades blessed with protection for her, so when she is not on duty she is hanging out in New York. I don’t use this verse a lot, to be honest, because it is an incredibly lonely one for her. This is mostly for my mutuals with demigod or mortal muses to make it easier to interact with her. This is the most under-developed alternate. This version of Bianca is going to be hardest to talk to, because she has burned a lot of bridges and she deals with a severe sense of loneliness and feels lost as she tries to figure out where she belongs in the world she doesn’t recognize, existential and identity crisis hitting hard and heavy. In the means of family, she leans into Hades the most in this verse, because she doesn’t have anyone else left. 

 The third, also known as the most developed and softest alternate, affiliated with @mvndrvke​​ and @nosestealer​. This acts like the continuation of the second alternate, because Bianca spends three years living that lonely life in Manhattan before Hades calls Bianca and Nico for a mission in the underworld. Doors of death are missing once again, and they enter the labyrinth together to find it, and it is no easy feat going into one of the most dangerous places in the world with a sibling by your side you haven’t talked to in years unless you didn’t have to, when you’ve gone no contact after a terrible separation. Ghosts were seen, old books were opened, harsh things were said, some terrible truths unrevealed, but after two weeks ( which equaled to a few months in the world ) in the labyrinth, they come out of it with amends to make, and Nico asks Bianca to move in with him into the camp,. Bianca hesitates because he already has a stable life he tried so hard to built with a loving relationship and caring friends, but she eventually accepts because they both know they will have to get through the awkwardness and heal the wounds they’ve been avoiding for so long if they want to make actual progress. In my opinion, if it wasn’t for Nico they could never get anywhere because Bianca wouldn’t take the first step with the fear of rejection especially when Nico didn’t need her anymore with his ‘ picture perfect life ’ so shout out to Luna for Nico’s maturity. In 22th of March, 2014, at the age of eighteen, Bianca move into the camp with her brother to open a new page, and it’s when things start get better for her. ( Nico is now nineteen, a year older than her, and he never lets her live it down.)

It does get better, but also, things are painful for a long while because that’s what happens when you try to reconnect with a sibling when you are both dysfunctional with a lot of layers of miscommunication to fix: you fight. A lot. But despite these fights, Bianca meets Will Solace, who is Nico’s boyfriend at the time, then Cecil Markowitz ( mvndrvke ) and Lou Ellen Blackstone ( nosestealer ) , who are his best friends. Her expectations of them are low at first, because obviously they are Nico’s friends and she imagines the mentions of her wasn’t the brightest so she expects a judgmental approach. But oh boy, is she wrong. With Lou Ellen’s kindness, Cecil’s compassion and Will’s deep sympathy, Bianca finds herself the first family she’s ever had since the hunters.

Now, let’s talk about other good things that happened during this year. Cecil Markowitz is a good friend, he is the shoulder she seeks to cry on, he is the biggest reason of her bright smile, but a good friend is not the only thing he is to her. With his unapologetic kindness towards the world, his sense of security in who he is and who he wants to be, his relentless compassion and with the promise of safety he gives to Bianca by being by her side even when she makes it hard to be, Bianca falls in love for the first time in her life. It is both an endearing and funny process to watch her try to figure out what to do with this new feeling, because she’s never been in love before and she’s took an oath for eternal maidenhood when she joined the hunters of Artemis, and pushed aside the thought. So this is completely new territory, especially she knows for a fact that even Cecil feels the same way she does ( which she is pretty sure that he doesn’t ) she doesn’t think she can provide a kind of relationship he would expect, whatever that it would be- she doesn’t know how to date, and she definitely doesn’t know the 21th century. Also, Cecil is one of Nico’s best friends and the panic of ruining the dynamics she’s tried so hard to built is really there. So this feeling goes unspoken of for a year and a half, until it starts to seep from the cracks and eventually the truth is forced out there- and she is not the only one to blame, because Cecil has his own confessions to make. After an intense argument filled with panic and fear, the day ends with a kiss and mumbled “ I love you’s. 21st August 2015 marks the date as their anniversary, and they still celebrate it. Lou Ellen finds out first, then Will, and they are both ecstatic about it, which makes Bianca feel better. They hide it from Nico for a few months, giving themselves a while to see if they can make it work or not until Nico learns in a traumatizing way and never lets them live it down. But eventually he is happy with the outcome too, and is supportive of their relationship when he is not bullying them for it.

 From that point on, it’s tooth rotting sweet Biancecil romance. After Bianca makes sure her bond with Nico is solid enough to remain steady and strong even when she moves out, she asks Cecil to move in with her to Manhattan. They both have their own reasons for not wanting to be a part of the camp any longer ( Bianca doesn’t feel accepted because in her opinion she’s never earned the justification to exist there with heroic actions like Nico did, and the stigma with hunters of Artemis is strong, even when they are former. Cecil struggles with belonging because he’s fought in the Kronos’ Army in the First Titan War. ) so after a year spent in Long Island, they move into her apartment in Manhattan. This is the first home they share together, and Bianca still holds those memories dear to her heart. They spend another year there, with Bianca keeping up the ambassador work, and they are traveling the world together, going on dates anywhere in the map they wish. A while later city of New Athens is completed, and they move there, buying a nice house and finally setting roots. After Cecil’s 22th birthday celebration in Lisbon, Bianca decides he is the person she wants to spend the rest of her life with. With a very romantic proposal in 16th December 2017, they get engaged. At the age of 23 and 24, they say their vows with their dream wedding in 19th May 2018. 

This continuation upsets me, because just after a year of their marriage, Cecil dies in the entrance of New Athens with the attack of Lamia. His date of death marks as 3rd May 2019, and Bianca is devastated. Nico goes out to hunt Lamia where Bianca does the funeral rites of her husband according to his wishes, then she goes to the underworld. She’s lost so much in her life, she refuses to mourn him too. I want my husband back, she tells Hades. And I am going to get him back. While Hades doesn’t approve at first, with the pressure from Nico and Bianca he reveals a way. There is a ritual she can make to bring his soul and his body intact. She needs a red carnation from Persephone, Cecil’s thread of life from the fates, Orpheus’ lyre, blessing of Hades, their wedding rings, and with the possession she cares the most about. Bianca disappears from the face of earth with only Nico knowing what she is doing, and she starts her quest to search for these items. She sometimes visits her mother-in-law and checks on her, but she is the only person she sees except for Will and Lou in a few rare occasion. She completes this quest in eighteen months, a year and a half, and she brings Cecil back from the underworld 8th December, 2020.

 Their life is not the same as they’ve left it, and while they are going through difficult times, they hold onto each other. While Luna and I haven’t decided on the exact dates, after a while spent in New Athens Cecil takes Bianca to a vacation in Cape Cod, and that’s where he proposes to her again to renew their vows, and gives her a list of houses he would live to buy for them from the area. At the age of twenty-five, they sell their house in New Athens and move into Cape Cod to build themselves a life there, a life they quite enjoy. Bianca is retired from ambassadorship, leaving her place to Achilles ( mvndrvke ) and taking interest in living off her retirement plan with caring for her garden at home. Cecil turns one of the rooms into his art studio and work there, and also work as the art teacher in the neighborhood elementary school. After many struggles and many discussions, they decide to carry on with their original plan of having children before he died. Their firstborn, tiny daughter Ludovica Ranieri Markowitz is born when Bianca is twenty-seven. She is named Ludovica because of Bianca’s fondness of the name, and Ranieri after her uncle, Nico ( it’s his middle name ). At the age of thirty, their son Alexander Steven Markowitz joins the family. He is named Alexander after his father, Cecil ( it’s his middle name ) and Steven after cap america on Cecil’s request. ( Don’t worry, Bianca made fun of him for it already.) Now they are enjoying their life being old, disgustingly in love, caring for their children and hosting great events at their house. Lou, Will and Nico are still a big part of their lives.

[rinusagitora]

Another empty seat in the city of ghosts.

Fandom: BLEACH

Characters: Isshin Kurosaki, Kisuke Urahara, Tessai Tsukabishi, Orihime Inoue, Rukia Kuchiki, Ichigo Kurosaki, Karin Kurosaki

Pairings: HitsuKarin, others not mentioned

Words: 1.5k

Summary: Shinigami!Karin AU. Chapter 6/8. WARNINGS- mentions of suicide, dysfunctional families;  Karin has taken her life. What follows is a maelstrom of emotion.

AO3

Isshin sat with Kisuke and Tessai, some of his only friends. Confidants.

He missed his daughter and she wasn't yet gone. Oh, but soon she would be. Given away to a boy he once knew well. It wasn't her wedding, though. He wished he got to see that. Karin in a beautiful kimono, glowing with happiness, next to someone she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

Instead, he got to watch her run away, never to be seen until his expiration.

And in the meantime, his children torn asunder. Hopelessly drifting in rivers of pain and confusion. He wished he was more like Masaki in those times. Empathetic, wise. But he was just a silly old man with nothing to offer but platitudes.

God, it hurt. So much so he couldn't sleep that night. Isshin sought refuge with the Urahara house in the wee hours of the morning. Tessai made tea, and Isshin cried.

"This is a fucking disaster," he said as he rubbed his eyes.

Kisuke said, "They're children. They'll understand down the line."

Isshin wasn't so sure. He leaned his head on his palm and stared at the wall as his thoughts spun. What could he have done to protect them better? To have not isolated them? And Yuzu... sweet Yuzu, blind to her siblings' tribulations until her twin couldn't take it any longer. What should he have told her? What could he do to ease her pain?

He shook his head as he wept. It was so overwhelming. "I don't think Yuzu will speak to me ever again... A fucking disaster."

Isshin blinked when he saw Kisuke pass him smokes. Isshin smoked irregularly. Socially, at Masaki's grave. That was all. He knew better. He was a doctor.

It seemed like an appropriate time to smoke, though. God knew he needed a buzz.

When he felt Karin die, he lost his legs. He wanted to run, run, run until it wasn't true anymore. Until he stopped feeling his lungs clogging with water and the agony of losing a child.

Was Karin lost? It felt like it, but she was only moving onto another world, the world she pined for day and night, year after year.

A world far away from them. From him.

Isshin curled his lips into his mouth. "I'm... I don't know how to fix this." How he was supposed to get his baby girl back.

Tessai said, dripping with only the utmost sympathy and understanding, "We're past fixing. Now... now it's just damage control. Repairing your relationship with Yuzu. Giving Karin your best."

Isshin shook his head. "Will they even hear me out?"

"Maybe. Hopefully."

"I can try talking to Karin," Kisuke said. "I don't have a rapport with Yuzu, however.

"No. No, no. I've done enough damage. Anything I say will only worsen this." Only alienate himself from his babies more.

He remembered when they were still in cribs. Chubby and giggly. How they snuggled against his chest, how their heads smelled like love. How, once upon a time, Karin and Yuzu curled up with each other in their crib.

God, he missed his babies.

"She's a bright girl, that Karin," Tessai said, extinguishing his cigarette in an ashtray. "She knows what she wants. How to get there. This was the avenue she saw most expeditious. I'm sure she still regards you all fondly."

Isshin knew that wasn't it. He shook his head. "That's the thing, she hates us all. They all hate each other now." Isshin wiped his face with his thumb. He hadn't stopped crying for days. "Karin's always hated me. Now Yuzu does too because I kept this secret for so long. Ichigo may come to hate me too for all this... They may never speak to me again." All alone, with all his babies gone.

"It's true. This is a disaster," Tessai agreed, But as was your loss of powers. And you made it through that." He held Isshin's hand, rocking it. "Your children are of the resilient ilk. Green and adaptive. They will mend. Grow. Their roots will rejoin yours."

Isshin nodded. He held Tessai's hand in both of his, nodding, sobbing. How he hoped that was true. How he yearned to hold his babies again.

He glanced at the clock. It was almost five-thirty. "I should go home." He needed to get ready.

He hadn't worn his black suit in years.

"Stay as long as you need," Kisuke reminded him.

"Thank you... but my daughter..." He smiled, thinking of Yuzu.

"We understand. We'll see you in a couple of hours, Isshin. Take care."

Isshin let himself out, feeling dreary, exhausted.

He returned home. None of his children were downstairs. He leaned against his poster of Masaki, petting her face with the back of his hand. "I miss you," he said. "I wish you were here. For our children, for me." If Masaki were still around, could she have saved them? Kept them from falling apart?

Isshin pulled away. He couldn't ruminate too long, he needed to get ready.

A black suit. He hated it. How it was loose in his chest, tight in his gut. He'd let himself go, just like his family.

Yuzu was gone by the time he returned downstairs. Ichigo, with Karin in tow, as well as Rukia and Orhime, accompanied him.

Orihime approached him and squeezed him in a hug. He returned it, squeezing her. She was such a sweet creature. Loving to everything and everyone.

"It's gonna be okay, Dad," she whispered. A precious girl. He was glad Ichigo found someone who loved him so much. Someone unconditionally kind.

"Thank you, dear," Isshin said. He cupped Orihime's cheeks. "We love you so much. You have a loving heart and my unconditional adoration."

She returned his smile. "Thanks. I love you too."

Ichigo clapped his hands. "Let's go. People will start arriving at the wake soon, we best be there before it reaches critical mass."

They all packed into the car. Karin sat in the back, in his rearview mirror. Translucent and unemotional. Ichigo hovered next to her.

It took everything in his power not to cry. Not to scoop her up and tell her how fucking much he loved her.

"We're gonna stay in the back," he grumbled at Karin, "so you can watch all the people you hurt."

Karin snort. "Ironic, coming from you of all people."

"Guys... stop," Rukia sighed. Orihime shifted uncomfortably. "Let's just have a quiet ride."

"No. What Karin did was the epitome of selfishness. We're not gonna tiptoe around that."

Karin stammered, enraged. "The epitome of selfishness?" she screamed. "Me? You're the one who refused to teach me how to protect myself against hollows, Ichigo! You left me to the wolves, all of you!"

"That's not fair to us!"

"Fair? You wanna talk about fair?"

"Enough!" Rukia boomed. "Both of you. You're fighting like children. You're adults. Warriors. This is unbecoming of both of you. If I hear anything above a whisper while we're in the goddamn temple, I'm going to choke both of you out!"

Isshin was grateful Rukia was able to act so quickly, while simultaneously embarrassed he, their father, didn't put his foot down.

He parked behind the temple and they headed in through the front. There were many people already there.

Kisuke met Isshin only minutes after his arrival. They hugged. Isshin was so grateful to have the Urahara there.

He sniffed. "Thanks for coming. Ichigo's been awful to Karin. I don't know what to do about it... he won't listen to me."

Once he gestured to them in the corner, Kisuke nodded. "I'll talk to him."

Once Kisuke left, Isshin took a seat in the front row, lost in thought, in grief, in the din of the room.

His eyes were glued to Karin's altar. Surrounded by lilies and marigolds. Smiling in her picture with her friends. Did Isshin have any of her? Of all them together, smiling and gleeful?

Isshin was not a religious man. Masaki was, though, a devotee of Kannon, goddess of mercy. Was Karin religious like her mother? Would Kannon listen if he prayed for the areligious?

He asked Kannon to watch over his baby girl Karin in the Seireitei, nonetheless.

The ceremony began with the priest stepping to the front of the room. Isshin's breath caught in his throat.

He cried through the entire ceremony. The blessings, the kind words... Utterly overwhelming.

It came to an end. He only wanted to hold Karin more.

Isshin tore himself from his chair and found Karin. Ichigo intercepted them. "We need to go," he said, "handoff is soon."

"I don't care. Karin is my daughter. I'm going to say goodbye," he snapped at Ichigo. They stared off before Ichigo stepped aside.

Karin stared numbly. "I love you," Isshin said. "I always have, and always will. You are my daughter. I will never stop loving you." He hugged her. "Never forget that. Not for a minute."

She separated from him. "Bye, Old Man."

It broke his heart. A farewell so impersonal. Still, he swallowed, cried, and nodded.

There was no fixing this.