#i think just touching my wips would help that and there are ways I've thought about improving my writing so let's see how that goes lol

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

Insecurity is a hell of a drug

[theragethatisdesire]

"l’amore è cieco" - eren x reader - 18+!!!

back to the ti penso universe!!! finally!! did you guys miss it? i know i did; i am utterly obsessed with these two. i've had this sitting in my unfinished wip pile for way too long not to share.

our lovebirds have gotten the wedding all wrapped up with, so we're a solid four years past them reuniting in italy....and surprise! they're expecting!!!!! i could literally scream just writing that; the grip dad!eren has on me will never let up, i fear......anyways, this one's a little rough because i've picked it apart a thousand times and i'm just tired of editing, so you guys enjoy!!! sorry if it's not quite up to par :/

pairing: eren x reader

wc: 4k

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

CWs: smut, reader is pregnant, use of names (baby, mama, pretty, beautiful, etc), swearing, vaginal sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, breeding kink, lactation kink, creampie, crying, tooth-rotting fluff

title means "love is blind" in italian, per tradition w this verse <3

-

Right on schedule with your new daily, depressing routine, you stand in front of the mirror running your hands over your body, examining the recent changes. On second thought, scrutinizing might be a better word.

You’re grateful your job has allowed you to work from home for your entire pregnancy, editing articles from the journalists who can actually travel while snuggled up on your couch, but the downside of it is that you’ve had far too much time to mull on all of the ways your body has stretched and warped to accommodate the growing little girl in your stomach. You thought pregnancy was supposed to be beautiful, and sometimes it is, but more often than not, you just feel like a swollen, hormonal mess.

You “popped”, as all the mommy podcasts say, about two weeks ago, and thin stretch marks have begun to appear on your stomach. Eren calls them your “tiger stripes”, having been in full-blown cringe dad mode since the day you took the test. Bizarre cravings control you at all hours of the day, evidenced by the little black crumbs you’re picking out of your sports bra, left behind by your fourteen-Oreo breakfast today. You gaze longingly at the jewelry box on your bathroom counter; you haven’t been able to wear your wedding band in weeks, the tan line already beginning to fade from your finger. Before you can get a hold of yourself, the hormones have you in their grip, and hot, frustrated tears are spilling down your cheeks.

“Babe, have you seen that tie with the red–” Eren materializes in the doorway with absolutely no warning, as he’s prone to do, but cuts himself off at the sight of you, “baby, no, again?”

“Don’t say it like that,” you say, reluctantly allowing him to take you in his arms.

“Like what?” Eren’s voice is sweet, but hesitant. He’s been living under the constant threat of getting his head bitten off for mundane reasons because of you. It makes you feel worse, makes you shove him away and glare at him accusingly.

“Like I’m always fucking crying.” You are always crying, but you wish he would at least muster up some semblance of surprise at finding you in tears yet again. You turn away from him, wiping your face in the mirror. “Shouldn’t you be packing? Your flight leaves in like, three hours.”

“I’ll cancel,” Eren coos, stepping behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, picking your belly up in his hands.

It’s some hack he got off Tik Tok, supposed to take the weight off of your back for a precious moment, and as much as you don’t necessarily want to be touched right now, it actually helps. You’ve been alternating between thinking Eren’s overenthusiastic parenting research is adorable and mind-numbingly annoying, but for the moment, your back has stopped aching for the first time all morning, and you sigh, leaning into him.

“You can’t cancel,” you murmur, momentarily soothed, “‘s a big client. Where is it again? France?”

“I just got back from France, Miss Pregnancy Brain,” Eren chuckles, quieting immediately upon catching your lethal gaze in the mirror. “It’s just over in LA, and honestly, I could have Hitch go if you need me.”

“No, I can take care of myself, it’s just like…” a fresh wave of tears spills down your cheeks, “fuck, I don’t even know what’s wrong with me.”

Eren nods into your shoulder, letting you sniffle. It’s not a new trait, your outright refusal to ask for help, but it’s been exacerbated by your pregnancy, especially considering exactly how much help you actually need now.

You’ve taken custody of all of his sweatpants, not yet able to bring yourself to buy maternity clothes. You’d walked in sobbing and humiliated the other day because you’d peed yourself on the long elevator ride up to your apartment in front of the neighbors. You can’t sleep on your stomach anymore; Eren has to prop himself up just right beside you and sandwich you between himself and a wall of pillows to stop you from turning. You know it hurts him seeing you miserable, and you try to suck it up and enjoy the positives of pregnancy as much as you can, but you can’t muster up that strength every day.

“Hush,” Eren pulls your wet face to his chest, letting you stain the Number 1 Dad! t-shirt he had bought himself. “I’m not going.”

“Eren–”

“I’m not,” he says firmly, rubbing small circles into the bottom of your spine, “you need me here, whether you want to admit it or not.”

You grumble complacently, nuzzling into him. You do need him, as much as you want to think you can tough it out on your own. Eren’s bought book after book, not just for the baby, but for you. Most nights you find him reading titles like You’ve Made the Baby…Now What? or How to Survive Pregnancy: A Guide for Men with his feet propped up on the coffee table, a habit that, despite your efforts, you cannot nag him out of. It’s cute, honestly, how over-the-top he’s gotten with baby prep, especially when you’re often too exhausted to wrap your mind around reading a parenting guide.

“I feel ugly,” you admit quietly, sticky and snotty against his shirt. “I feel disgusting.”

“What?” Eren’s reaction is one of genuine confusion. He pushes you away from him so he can search your face, waiting patiently for you to elaborate.

“I’m gaining an obscene amount of weight, my ankles are the size of my knees, I can’t wear a single one of my rings, what am I supposed to feel like?”

Eren frowns. “Those things are supposed to happen. I read last night–”

“I don’t care!” Your voice cracks under the weight of your frustration, and you press your fingers into your eyes hard enough to see stars, trying to regain control of your temper. “I don’t care that it’s supposed to happen. It still sucks.”

“I think you’re beautiful,” Eren sounds earnest, but you scoff at him anyway.

“We’re married. You’re supposed to say that.”

“I don’t have to.”

You cock an eyebrow at him. “If you want your head to stay on your shoulders you do.”

Eren laughs at that, tugging you over to stand between his legs as he sits on the bed. “So, you’re serious? You genuinely don’t think you look good pregnant?”

“No,” you rub at your nose, “I don’t.”

Eren looks up at you, cupping your face gently. “I disagree.”

“Do you really?”

“I think you look better than ever.”

“That’s an insult to non-pregnant me,” you roll your eyes, moving to step away, but Eren holds you tight between his legs.

“It’s not,” he insists, “there’s just some things your pregnant body has that you didn’t necessarily have before. Some things that I like.”

You cock an eyebrow at him. “Cankles?”

Eren chuckles breathily, shaking his head. “I adore your cankles, but they weren't exactly the first thing that came to mind. Take these, for one thing.”

Eren presses his nose into your sports bra, hands moving up underneath to palm at your swollen tits. You let out a breathy laugh as he explores, already feeling a low heat beginning to simmer in your core. That’s one perk of entering your second trimester; your hormones might turn on a dime, but your sex drive has skyrocketed.

Eren shoves your bra up to free your tits, groaning appreciatively as he takes a nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking. You watch as he feels his way around with his mouth, humming contentedly under your breath, when suddenly, his eyes fly open and he shoots away from you.

“What?”

Eren shushes you, bringing a hand to the breast that had been in his mouth and squeezing lightly. White liquid beads on your nipple, and you cover your face in shame.

“When did that start?”

“A few days ago,” you admit, trying to push his hands off of you, cheeks burning. Eren swats you away, leaning back into your nipple, sucking harder. You can feel a small stream of milk leaving you, relieving some of the pressure in your tits; a moan rumbles deep in Eren’s chest, and you can see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. Eren releases your nipple with a loud pop and looks up at you panting, eyes blown wide.

“Is it weird that that’s kinda hot?”

“Probably.”

“Does it hurt?”

“No,” you hum, threading your hands through his hair and urging him back to your chest, “feels good.”

That’s all Eren needs to hear, diving back into your chest with renewed vigor. As he continues, you realize it doesn’t just feel good, it actually feels incredible. You’ve always had sensitive breasts, but with the pregnancy, sensation has increased tenfold; you can feel your panties getting wetter as the weight of your full breast decreases. When Eren’s gotten all he can from your left nipple, he moves to your right, replacing his mouth on the now-abandoned nipple with his hand to twist gently at the wet skin.

The combined sensation makes your knees buckle; Eren saves you smoothly by wrapping an arm around your lower back, yanking you to him to straddle his leg. It’s the perfect angle for you to roll your hips against his thigh slowly, feeling the much-needed friction of his sweatpants against your cunt.

“Eren…” you breathe out, voice nothing more than a wisp of air.

“I know baby,” Eren speaks directly into your flesh, not willing to back away for even a moment, “feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Feels so good,” you whimper, clutching him to you with fistfuls of his hair.

“Told you this new body’s not so bad, hm?” Eren closes his teeth down on your nipple lightly; you almost keel over from the shockwave it sends through you.

You nod, rubbing yourself against his thigh faster. It’s awkward and cumbersome with your belly in the way, but it’s enough for now, enough to light your nerves on fire in that way that only Eren’s ever been able to.

“Fuckin’ ridiculous,” Eren mutters, grabbing onto your hips to help you get your rhythm right, “you’re so perfect, and you don’t even see it.”

Your fingers dig into his arms as you moan. “But my stomach–”

“But nothing,” Eren kisses you, mumbling into your mouth, “love your stomach, love your tits, love all of it. You think it doesn’t make me so fucking hard, watching you walk around with that big belly and knowing what it came from? I did that. We did that, didn’t we baby?”

“Mhm,” you bite into his shoulder, the friction on your clit through your sweatpants is getting to your head, making you dizzy. “Eren, Eren–”

“Sh sh sh,” Eren shushes you, moving so that he can look you in the eyes, “what do you need? Tell me.”

“I don’t– I don’t know, I just…” you can’t find the words, so in need of him that you can’t even decide what sounds best. His mouth? His fingers? All of it?

“Okay, okay,” Eren says quietly, standing you both up only to lay you against the pillows, “I’ve gotcha.”

He nudges his sweatpants down your legs, bringing your panties with them, spreads your legs so he can see the most intimate part of you. Eren brings his hand to your clit, rubbing tentatively, but you’re so desperate for him that it’s enough to make your back arch, a long, throaty moan ripping out of you. He lays beside you, gently playing with your clit and watching in awe at the reaction you give him, already a blubbering mess after only a few minutes.

“So sensitive, aren’t you mama?”

“Yes,” you hiss out through clenched teeth, a fresh wave of arousal flooding you at the name, “s-so sensitive. Need to cum, I need, n-need–”

“I’ll make you cum,” Eren promises, sinking a finger into you, “I’ll make you cum, baby.”

“Fuck, Eren, it’s– I can’t–”

“Feel good?”

“So fucking good,” you’re basically sobbing at this point, fingers clenched into the muscles of his bicep, clinging to him and humping his hand. You’re not sure if it’s the lack of sex over the first trimester (“What if I hit the baby’s head?” Eren had asked nervously whenever you approached him) or the rawness of the sensation against your over-sensitive body, but you’ve never been so close to your orgasm so quickly.

You don’t hold out long; Eren’s skilled with even just one finger, and before long, you’re crying out his name, gushing all over his hand. Eren presses his lips to your forehead in a sweet kiss despite having utterly destroyed you less than thirty seconds ago.

“Ready for me?”

“Sit,” you pant, pointing to the massive stack of pillows against your headboard. Eren raises his eyebrows in surprise, but does as he’s told, only pausing to pull his clothes off. The loss of the stupid dad t-shirt is a relief as much as feeling his bare chest under your hands. Due to your hormones, you’ve thrown Eren out of the house several times, and you’ve demanded to be alone enough to where his only solution is to go to the gym downstairs and work out until you’ve calmed down. It shows: his chest has grown broader and stronger, and the veins on his arms are nearly popping through the skin. “You look good.”

“Yeah?” Eren offers a shit-eating grin, flexing his bicep ever so subtly. “You should see yourself.”

“You seriously think I look good like this?” You’re straddling his hips now, rubbing your clit on his bare cock. It’s a lewd sight, his cock drooling on his abs, glistening with your cum; your cunt clenches around nothing, more than ready to be filled.

“Mhm, you look so fucking good like that,” Eren grunts, hands finding your hips again and lifting you up to sink you down on his cock, both of you letting out loud, satisfied groans, “but you look much better like this.”

You grind your hips against his, not possessing the energy to bounce your now-heavier body, but it makes you see stars. Eren rarely lets you ride him, much preferring to bend you over or pin you to the bed himself, but with your bump, you now have an excuse to hop on top of him whenever you like. It’s been close to a decade of fucking him, but the full stretch of him never fails to shock you, the way he pushes into you until you’re positive he’s in your stomach. With Eren sitting up, his cock stays firmly nestled against your g-spot, pushing little bits of squirt out of you with each movement of your hips.

“Eren–” you whimper, holding your breasts as you rock into him.

“Shit- you’re so tight like this,” Eren says through his clenched jaw, throwing his head back against the headboard, “why don’t you ride me more often?”

“You don’t let me,” you say with a watery giggle.

“Stupid,” Eren gasps, “‘m so fucking stupid.”

You’re too fucked out to voice your agreement, opting for sliding a hand down your body to flick at your clit. You can’t quite reach it around your bump, though, a discontented noise leaving your lips. Eren opens his eyes, takes notice of the way you’re hunching your back, and swats your hand away.

“I got it, I got it,” he pants, tucking his hand underneath your swollen belly to rub your clit just the way he knows you like it.

“Oh, f-fuck,” you choke out, throwing your head back.

“Good?”

“Yeah,” you hiss, “‘s perfect.”

“Take what you need, mama,” Eren’s watching you intently, a glimmer of admiration in his eye, “take what you need.”

You’re moaning pitifully, loud and wanton as Eren’s cock moves inside of you. Your cunt tightens around him desperately as the bubble building in your stomach threatens to explode.

“Think you get wetter like this, all swollen with my baby,” Eren muses, leaning forward to latch his mouth around one of your nipples where more milk has already started to pool. His words have a visceral reaction on you; you cry, tears welling in your eyes as you spiral towards your release. 

“I think–I think I’m gonna– oh fuck, don’t stop,” you croon, rocking your hips as fast as you can manage. Eren mumbles around your nipple, something about how beautiful you look, and you come undone around him, grinding your hips hard against his and cradling him to your chest. He might have a point- there’s damn near a puddle of your arousal at the base of where you’re connected, slicking up the skin on his hips and the inside of your thighs.

“Better?” Eren pulls you in for a kiss; you can feel him grinning through it.

“Maybe a little,” you admit, laughing light and watery against his mouth.

“Mmm,” Eren hums, grabbing you by the hips and lifting you only to drop you down again and turn your laughter to a quiet whimper, “not good enough. Need you to be much better.”

“Fuck me, then,” you nip at his bottom lip, earn yourself a deep groan.

“Can you— can you hold yourself up like this?” Eren scooches both of you down, albeit, a little awkwardly, so that he can lay flat on the bed. He moves you up until you’ve only got him halfway inside of you, cocking a questioning eyebrow at you.

“Yeah, I–I think so.”

“And you’re sure I’m not going to hurt–”

“Jesus Christ– no Eren, it’s fine, just– fuck,” he cuts you off with a sharp snap of his hips up into yours, grinning menacingly when your eyes roll back.

“Like that?”

“Just like that,” you moan, annoyance wiped from you with one clean stroke. Eren takes that for the green light that it is and starts pistoning his hips up into you, swearing under his breath. Even though he’d instructed you to hold yourself up, he makes good use of his new muscles, suspending you at the perfect height to feel every inch of him as he fucks up into you like his life depends on it.

“You look so fucking gorgeous like this,” Eren growls, “all swollen with my fuckin’ baby. Gonna keep you like this, give you as many as you want.”

“Eren–” you choke out, suffocating on the way he’s fucking you, his words, him. For the first time in months, you feel amazing, holding your chest and groaning long and loud as Eren thrusts up into you.

“Baby, I’m- fuck, not gonna–” Eren cuts himself off with something that sounds suspiciously close to a whimper, throwing his head back.

“Cum in me,” you pant, nodding urgently at him, “want it so bad.”

“Oh fuck,” Eren groans, hips moving impossibly faster. His fingers are digging into your hips near to the point of pain, and that little frown he makes when he’s about to cum is crumpling his face. You do want it, badly.

“Please Eren, I need it,” you gasp, legs trembling on either side of his hips.

“Fucking love you, love you so much,” Eren slurs, hips stuttering. With a long, throaty moan, he slams you down one final time, cumming deep inside of you. You grind against him as he does, moaning along with him at the familiar warmth in your belly. Exhausted, you momentarily forget about your bump and try to collapse facefirst on him- that’s enough to snap Eren out of his post-orgasm haze.

“Whoa, whoa,” Eren shoves you back upright, lifting you under your shoulders and laying you on your back, “careful.”

You wince. “Shit, sorry. Sometimes I forget. It’s still sort of new.”

“I know,” Eren agrees, eyes locked lovingly on your baby bump, “love it, though.”

“Really?”

Eren cocks a disbelieving eyebrow at you. “If that didn’t convince you, I don’t know what will.”

You giggle at that; he’s always been good at this, cheering you up and diffusing your worries like it’s second nature. After ten years, it probably is at this point.

“I don’t mean to be so down on myself, really,” you sigh, tracing a finger over where his hand’s splayed on your stomach, “it’s just…so much harder than I thought it would be.”

Eren nods thoughtfully. “That’s reasonable. But you’re so good at it.”

“I haven’t even– what?” The insecurities that you’ve been successfully masking under good natured teasing and occasional annoyance come slipping from between your lips. You’ve thought it for weeks; how Eren’s so into all the baby stuff, so enthusiastic about learning everything he can, while all you’ve managed is trying not to gag when he cooks eggs in the morning and picking out some onesies. “What about all of your books and your podcasts and crap? You’re the one doing everything.”

“That’s all I can do,” Eren scoffs, “you’re doing all the hard stuff, like carrying the baby around and puking every morning and crying all the time–”

“Hey!”

“I’m serious,” Eren shushes you, “you’re putting in all the legwork. I mean, you’re literally growing our baby. You’re a fucking rockstar mom already. If anyone’s not doing enough here, it’s me.”

That’s one thing about Eren that will never get easier; his deep, unwavering admiration for you, no matter what you’re doing. Sure, it’s endearing when Eren spins you around in his arms for something as simple as finally getting that croissant recipe to come out well, but when he’s praising you for something that’s actually difficult? It’s sweet enough to give you a cavity, warm your heart, and turn your cheeks pink all at once, even after all this time.

“Well, if you’d like to take a shift carrying her around, be my guest. She’s a chunky little thing already,” you roll your eyes, tucking your face into Eren’s ribs to mask the flush rising to your face.

“I’d do it for you if I could,” Eren sighs in faux-thoughtfulness, “but I wouldn’t look half as hot.”

You giggle furiously when he lands a slap to your ass, swatting at his chest. “God, it still doesn’t feel real, does it? A little girl that’s half you, half me.”

“It does and it doesn’t,” Eren shrugs, bringing a hand back to your stomach, “I don’t know about you, but I’ve been thinking about it since Italy.”

You gape at him. “That long?”

“You know I’m always ahead of you on this stuff,” Eren teases, squeezing your cheeks together, “knew I wanted you first, knew I wanted you back first, knew we should get married…”

“Yeah, yeah,” you roll your eyes at his bragging, “it’s just, like…are we ready? To do this?”

“This?” Eren cocks his head.

“The whole…‘parents’ thing.”

“Putting aside the fact that you're way too late to be having those kinds of thoughts,” Eren says, rubbing your lower back, “of course we’re ready. There’s no perfect parents, but I believe in us– believe in you. Gonna be the best mama any baby’s ever had, I know you will.”

“I don’t even…oh, Eren.” You’re tearing up again–damn hormones. Eren wipes at your tears, planting a big kiss on your forehead.

“I mean it. You’re going to be great, already are,” he says, smiling down at you. He holds you just like that for a few moments, letting you nuzzle into his chest, until his little grin grows wicked. “Although…the only thing I can say I am worried about is which one of us is going to accidentally teach her her first swear word. Should we bet on it?"

Even through your tears, you cock an eyebrow at him. “You and I both know that’s going to be Jean. Especially after what you taught Clara the last time we babysat.”

Eren barks out a laugh. “Hey, hearing her call Jean ‘Daddy Jackass’ was funny, and you know it!”

“Thanks for reminding me,” you smirk, “now I know what I’m teaching our little girl first.”

“No way!”

[whaledenwtf]

I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Halsin’s thighs, if it strikes your fancy could you please write some thigh riding please 🙏

OH MY GOD YES YES YES YES. Ahem. Yes I will. I will make the reader thick cause obviously Halsin would like curvier women (this isnt headcannon this is just obvious.. he's a bear for gods sake)

Edit (12/10/2023): the fact I didnt realize I left WIP in the content warnings 😭 now I gotta triple check everything I've written the last couple months

HALSIN x THICK!READER - Riding the Bear

Warnings: Thigh Riding, Light Bondage, afb!reader and Male Smut, Praise Kink, Body Worship (Female Receiving)

Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist: LINK

It was torturous, being fully naked with Halsin and him insisting not to touch you where you needed him to.

"Halsin, please." You plead with him. He chuckles and shakes his head, braids swaying.

"My heart, you must know that I have to learn restraint. This is a good way to do it." You grumble, hands straining against the soft linen cloths Halsin had tied around your wrists.

"Maybe your restraint, but mine is perfectly fine. Let me touch you dammit!" He smirks at your plight, watching you try and fail miserably to loosen your ties. You're straddling one of his thick thighs, and all your movement is making you rub against the muscles. You moan, looking at him defiantly.

"You can still take your pleasure from me, little one." You're whimpering. This is awful. How can you take your pleasure from his bountiful body when your hands are tied! You look down, seeing his heavy cock leaning against his stomach, precum pooling in the dips of his muscles.

"Let me please you Halsin-" You go to get up off his thigh, but his hands latch to your thick waist, seating you back down. The movement made your breasts bounce and he groans, eyes turning amber for a moment.

"Ride my thigh, little one." It comes off as a soft request, but you knew it was a demand. Halsin is always excited when he feels your weight on his body. You thought you were always heavy, squashing him. He would always remind you "Nature is bountiful, and so are you. There is much more of you to love, to taste... to devour." before he'd sit you on his face and eat you out for hours. The thought of those nights warmed you up again, and without thinking you grind down on his thigh. You moan at the action, the friction causing delicious waves of pleasure. You begin a soft pace, grinding up and down on his thigh. You are panting, and one of his hands goes to your waist, to speed up your actions. The other trails to his cock, stroking it in pace with your movements.

His hazel eyes are locked on your face, watching the small twitches of pleasure show themselves in your features. His eyes trail down your body, watching how your breasts bounce with the movement, nipples peaked and begging for attention. They stray further down to your stomach, round but flattering. He can't help but imagine you full of his seed and carrying his legacy. He moans out, eyes fluttering shut. You continue your pace, your slick leaving you and allowing the movements to be easier. Your clit keeps bumping into the muscles of his thigh, and you keen, quickening your speed. When he opens his eyes, he looks down at his thigh, slick and wet from your ministrations. His eyes snap back up to yours, before he pushes you forward into a passionate kiss.

Your pace quickens again, as you get so close to the precipice, but can't leap over it. You whimper in his mouth. The hand on your hip goes down where you are grinding yourself against him and rubs quick but small circles over your clit. You scream into his mouth, a rush of slick leaking out of you and on his thigh. He groans, cumming onto his stomach. You release each other's lips, whimpering. Your body still quakes, jolting every couple seconds from the intensity of your orgasm. You look down at his thigh and whimper; its drenched, you definitely squirted on him. He growls, before running his hand through your slick and tasting it.

"Like honey... little one I need to devour you." He lies himself down fully, pulling you to sit on his face.

You will not be sleeping tonight.

[eydi-andrius]

Fool Entire IV

warnings: verbal abuse, implied attempted r*pe, abuse of power, physical violence

Synopsis

If someone asked you who Prince Aemond was in your life, you probably would have said the love of your life.

Years have passed but still your heart yearns for him.

But you were no fool.

It was a lesson learned for you not to give your heart to a man who knows nothing but duty.

a/n: it's been a while huh? well it turns out i've already written chapters for this story and completely forgot about them. And yes, it was him with his slutty walk that made me check my WIPs for Aemond. 😂 Anyway! ENJOY! or I guess??? 🤺 It's also 3AM and I can't sleep. Augh!

Part III here.

🌿🌿🌿

"Then go." Simon replied nonchalantly.

"Did you even hear what I said?" You grimaced when he did not think twice giving you an answer to the questions you have been beating yourself to answer and choose from.

"I did." He said looking around.

"Then why did you recommend that I go back to court? You know how much I suffered." With a huff, you crossed your arms and glared at him.

"Little lady…. It is because, without a doubt, that you were born to be a noble lady. Tell me…how many times has someone been banished to a life full of riches for them to have an opportunity to go back without marrying? None." He also crossed his arms and glared back at you as he explained how his answer was the best one. He looks absolutely sure. And here you thought he would be the one to tell you not to.

"And based on your story, you were not going back as someone's fiance. I believe it is a win." He continued.

"How about my business then-"

"Nah uh. Once you become a noble lady again, you'll have more resources to use for it to grow. Think about it. Create your own wealth so if something happens and you were banished again, you'll have your own power. You will not go back to this slum. And your sister will be away from danger. Once an opportunity arises, you must seize it. Not everyone can get a second chance. Hear thy advice from a former mercenary. Seize it!" He squeezed his palm into fist and raised it in the air.

You can't help but chuckle on his antics and he bowed in front of you like an actor ending a play. Sometimes you cannot understand how he can act this way in a serious conversation.

"But I am serious, I won't be able to protect you always, especially now that I am having a child. I know how hard you thrive on your own and how much you have worked for you and your sister's life. However, we must know when to take chances when they show themselves. I admit that I worry about you. You are like a little sister of mine and I am saying this for your safety. Think about it." He gave a soft smile and tapped your nose.

In annoyance, you huffed and scrunched your face in disgust. How can an old man try to act adorable. He always does this when you look too serious and he usually follows the gesture with a…

"Alas! You're too young to worry too much about those things every time, so how about we move forward?" You can't help but roll your eyes. Simon will always be Simon. He is so predictable but you can always rely on his strength.

"Sister!" Your head snapped at the voice who called you and your eyes softened when you could see your sister sparkling with excitement at a fabric stall. The place looks dark for an afternoon. As if it was intentionally dimmed.

You smiled and went to her direction, followed closely by Simon.

"Look at it! The blue fabric glows in the dark!" She chirped and immediately showed you how beautifully the blue hue of the fabric looks, like the stars in the night. Glowing majestically from a gloomy night. It was gorgeous and you can't help but touch it. The fabric was soft, just like how you imagine clouds would feel, if you touch them. It is one of a kind and you can't help but be awed at how this cloth existed.

"Beautiful isn't it? The dye came from the ocean, while the fabric was loomed in a very certain way, making it so soft to the touch. You can only find that fabric available in our shop." The owner looks smug as he explains how they have gathered the needed materials for the said fabric. On how they made the cloth be so soft and how the dye looks so much alive, rather than just a glowing color at night.

"How much is it?" You asked, gulping nervously. Most of the time when owners introduce something this detailed the price will probably be something you can't afford.

You winced when he told you how much it was. The owner's face soured and shouted your party away as he saw how your face changed. He probably thought you and your sister were rich for having Simon around and also for having better clothing than the others in here. Of course, Simon did not back down without shouting his curses as well and calling the owner a bald bastard. You did your best to apologize but his mocking became too much and it was Simon who dragged you two away from the snobbish business man.

"Hah! That fabric is probably fake! That bald man really thought he could swindler us." Simon remarked bitterly as he copied how the business man introduced his product to you and your sister.

"Well, the fabric was truly beautiful and he seemed proud of it. It was our fault for not asking how much first. We wasted his time." You convinced him, but your tone still hurt by what happened.

"Oh don't start with that! That's the reason why you shouldn't be here at all. You become street smart, yes. But you still can't help putting logic on other people's bad behavior. If you know you're putting a new item for sale, you shouldn't treat your customers awfully for not being able to afford it. That was probably fake. Remember that." He rolled his eyes and walked in front of you and your sister with a frown. Your sister just giggled at you and you gave her a smile.

"I guess, we should continue and focus on our task at hand." With a deep breath, you opened the list of what you needed to buy and directed your company on what to do for today's leg work.

The afternoon sun was harsh as it beats you strolling around the market. Sweats build on your forehead and you can't help the amount of times you need to ask Simon for a break. You haggled, checked for new suppliers and searched the market for potential competitors like you always do to make sure you're top notch and following the trend. It helps a lot looking for new customers.

Once the shopping was done, you three decided to visit the brothel for refreshments. You'll just pay the girls there rather than here at the market.

However, there seems to be some sort of commotion. There were tons of people outside and you excused your way to see what was going on. You let out a horrified gasp when you saw bits of wood from broken tables and chairs. It was scattered everywhere. Looking around you saw the mistress, sitting in front of the door, dirtied and bruised. You ran towards the mistress and kneeled in front of her, asking her what happened. You helped to sit her on a chair that was brought out by one of the girls. She held her head. Her right cheek was swollen, eyes filled with fear. She looks pale too.

"Who did all of this!?" Simon yelled as he checked the damage and went inside the brothel.

Mysaria's business is protected not even by her connections but also by the Rouge Prince, Daemon Targaryen, so who in their right mind would do something so terrible and be bold.

"Are you feeling better?" You immediately handed over the goblet of water your sister brought to give to the mistress. You helped her tip over the cup and you told her to drink slowly. As you look closely, the red was starting to form like someone's hand, indicating that someone must have hurt her.

"You shouldn't be in here." Once she swallowed the water, she looked at you and grabbed your arm. Her eyes wide with worry.

"They're looking for you."

"Who?" Your heart beat faster and you can only think of someone who might be looking for you. His familiar back and silver hair flashes in your memory. Could it be possible that he found your connections with Mysaria already?

"They're back. The nobles who were looking for you to make you their slave." The horror in your face were visible and the fear you first felt about these people being Aemond were replaced with disgust and anger.

"How could they be so bold attacking Mysaria's place just to find a mere vanished lady?" You stood up and yelled. You can hear Simon and the other guards telling the outsiders to leave as they need to clean up the place.

"The Rouge Prince were removed as the head of the Night's Watch. He was banished by the King himself. And now, the position was empty. And those nobles with higher power acts like they own the place.

Is there really a time you could truly find peace?

"Go home. We can handle this. We did not say anything to them. The girls and I like you too much to let them find you. Go!" Before you can protest, one of the girls gives you two cloaks and pushes you away from the brothel. One of them dragged Simon out and she specifically told him to protect you on your way home.

The walk was quiet and tense. You can't help looking around you as you used another route to go home. The only time you stopped panicking was when Simon touched your shoulder and told you to breath. You did not realize you were holding on for a long time now. With worry, your sister called your name, held your hand and squeezed it to reassure you that you two will be safe.

While you do trust their words, it wasn't in your power to stop yourself from the trauma you suffered days after you were banished from the Red Keep.

You can't trust no one. Especially, the night guard's who known you to be Aemond's fiancé. You thought everyone liked you in court, that's why they were nice to you. But you were naive and only realized it a moment too late, when they were chasing you in the forest like a rabbit being hunted by wolves. They teased, cursed and insulted you as they do their best to locate you. They did not mention anything but you know they were planning to do some awful things to you. You were like a precious commodity that suddenly dropped in value and the fascination to have a taste of the person the Prince had, was an exotic opportunity for them.

You remembered the cold, your wet clothes from rain sticking on you like a second skin. Everything hurts and you were in pain but not a single thought about stopping from running crossed your mind. You cannot go home or else they will hurt your sister. So you did your best to get as far from home and lose them. You run before dawn and now you can see the sun peaking slowly above. You look behind you and you are sure you can't hear their voices anymore. You have to look for a way to go home now and get back. They probably got tired or maybe they got lost. But the most important thing was to meet your sister. You stepped towards a branch and the leaves gave way and you fell down towards a cliff. The area you stepped into had no land. It was a facade. Like a trap from nature. You did your best to shield your head from the impact and braced yourself as your body hit a tree. Your right arm was painful and your vision was spotted with black dots. Slowly, you don't know if it was because of the pain, hunger or exhaustion but your body succumbed to sleep but in your head, you forced yourself to stand up.

The moment you woke up, the smell of cooking meat woke you up. The fire crackles as it stirs the juicy part of the boar. It smells heavenly.

"Oh! Thank the Gods, you're awake. I thought my journey will be with me digging a grave for a dead body." The man wearing pleated armor and a sword looked at you, from his place sitting in front of the grilling meat.

You only widened your eyes and choked words as you panicked and did your best to move but failed as your body feels like it came from death.

"Woah! Woah! You don't have to worry. I am a stranger but I do not plan to hurt an injured lady. As you can see on my clothes, I am a mercenary and I'm on my way home to the capital when I saw you, almost dead in here. I gave you some medicine for the pain but it will take a while to work. I also bandaged the places I could. I don't have enough things so it is better for us to go to the capital once you are numb." He explained and as much as you do not trust him, he seems sincere to what he just said.

"Why are you in the middle of the forest, anyway?" He asked, curious and confused. He probably knew by now or at least for you, you think it was impossible for a lady to be alone in the forest but since he already checked your injuries, he knew you fought well.

You tried to swallow but there's no words coming out of your mouth. You looked at his container and he understood what you meant right away. He moved towards you and asked for your permission first before helping you out.

Once he tipped the body of his bottle, crisp water comforted your parched and wounded throat. It was heaven despite coughing a bit from the change of dry throat from cold water.

"Easy easy." He warned and you blinked in acknowledgement.

"I'm sorry. I was being chased by the night guards and ended here." You explained and his chill demeanor turned cold right away.

"Those bastards?" He asked. Voice gritty in anger.

"I can't believe they were trying to chase a girl to rape her. Did they not cut off all the cocks the past moon due to rape? Disgusting cows!" His forehead flexed in annoyance and veins started popping out from it. He looks angry, no, furious, as he yelled and cursed the golden cloaked protectors of the realm.

"Here drink this again. I hope this medicine works fast so we can leave here. I'm scared that those disgusting creatures will look for you again. They surely like being in power and abusing it. My darling almost fell victim of it so I promise that you can trust me." He looks serious and firm so all you did was nod and you did not hesitate to have his help.

You usually do not trust someone this fast anymore but there was something truthful and raw from his story. As if yours, even though a bit different, hit close to his experience.

And days after, you found out his name was Simon and her lover was once being taken advantage of those gold cloaked bastards.

He was seething as he told you what happened and you just stared at him the whole time. Somehow, you were grateful that the first one to help you can be a friend and an ally.

Years pass by and your friendship with Simon and his wife, flourished and you treat them like a family.

"Do not open your doors when you don't hear our secret knock. Also, make sure to make your place look like no one lives here. Stay at the back of the house near the other exit for the meantime and if you can live below for now. We are not sure if we can even trust your neighbors. I'll make sure to send food and the things you need." His grip on his sword tightened and you held his hand to stop him from hurting himself.

"I am grateful to be your friend, Simon. We will listen to you". You smiled unsure but you felt his tightened your hold for comfort and he breathed deeply.

"Be safe. I will make sure that they will not find you and the slums will vomit the likes of them. You are part of us now and we will protect you. "With a nod of understanding, Simon left and you and your sister were left by yourselves.

~~~~~

Simon kept his promise in taking care of the two of you as you laylow. You also got ahold of Mysaria and she told you to listen to Simon as she is too faraway to help. It seems like the blow of the fight between the Prince and the King kept Mysaria's power in question especially since she was asked to runaway with him. All she could do was say yes and do her best to appease the Rouge Prince to not kill and destroy her power that she established by herself.

Your sister did your best to entertain you and not mourn the hindrance that stopped your business. She had told you stories she heard, the things she learned and did her very best to take your mind off the worry. You were happy that she was doing her best and it did take your mind off the worry and you focused on learning more on how you can improve your business in Isolation.

However, it was way too peaceful. Sooner or later, something will go wrong. You just don't know when it will happen. So you pray. You pray to the Mother for protection. Hoping that she won't let her daughters of faith be harmed. Like she always has done for you for the past moons

[meanbossart]

DU drow asks time

Lore questions/sweet messages/stuff that made me laugh that's about DU drow specifically that I decided to compile in a single post!

First of all, "outraged to be used as a medium for old man gay divorce" is a hysterical sentence LOL

As for his thoughts on the Ansur debacle? Negative ones. He hates the emperor, he doesn't care about his third-time-twist real identity, he doesn't particularly care about Wyll either (well - he kind of finds him entertaining, he's kind of really frustrated by him, it's complicated) but he saved his dad on a whim to spite Mizora anyway. BUT HEY, all that trouble would have been worthwhile if he's about to get an ancient dragon fighting alongside him - this old duke sounds a little too confident in this fairy tale, but stranger things have happened, right?

Then the situation unfolds as it does, and if he wasn't eager enough to use that orphic hammer before, he certainly is now. There is very little that the Emperor does past Act 3 that DU drow doesn't find a way to twist into something that confirms his resolve against him. If he could have taken Ansur's side in that fight, he would have - not that he shed any tears over killing him either.

Sick sword though, that helped soothe his nerves a bit and I'm sure spared everyone a little bit of a tantrum at camp later.

HAHAHAHA I can't confirm nor deny because I see so few large body-type elves as it is (which is fair, elves aren't usually... That massive). I did set age to 50% because it does look a little weird when it's all smooth. Maybe that's the trick?

Though I guess if you find it unsettling, then... No wonder it suits him! however this just looks like an impressively handsome fella to me, to be honest. I insist on fucking him up further whenever I draw him for that reason.

Thank you so much for following along and for giving the fic a try!!! And no worries, english isn't my native tongue either so I've been there 😎👍

I do actually have a couple of very short comics planned that take place pre-tadpole, but my backlog of WIPs is... Massive. Not to mention the commission work I do (currently not taking any more). I have one that's about his first interaction with Orin and another about a business dinner with Gortash gone-wrong, but I have no clue when I'll be able to work on them. Hopefully soon though!

You know, I've always hoped that after I died I'd be remembered as the guy who inspired others to make their nipples card-swipe-able.

Joke's aside, thank you LOL I love that my guys' nips have taken up non-insignificant room in your mind, it's always comforting to know that you aren't the only one.

Piercings and the such aren't really his style though. While he finds his scar-work weirdly comforting, he isn't so interested in aesthetic results as much as he just enjoys having pain inflicted upon him in a controlled environment, by people that he loves - He doesn't recall this post-tadpole, but the scars were a result of a kind of... Recurring ritual between himself and Orin that served to replace normal intimacy, pretty much.

Since you touched on it though, I do like to believe that Astarion finds his cut-up body fun, both on the eyes and on the hands LOL.

I'm starting to think you guys are all in on this. It's like the fifth time someone catches me in the act - god damn it, is it that obvious that I wanna slide down Peter Steele's cold corpse like he's a a ride at the Magical Ice kingdom... Which is to say, yes, both the guy and his music are not-so-lowkey a big inspiration behind a lot of DU drow's characterization!

That's all for now folks, thank you so much for the asks!!! This isn't all of them but I try not to spam people's feeds when I can help it/space them out. I see all of your messages and I guarantee you that if I have an interesting answer for them, you will see a reply eventually!

[shinjisdone]

Hi!! I just finished reading part 6 of your Thorfinn headcanons. I really liked them and I think you nailed his character perfectly.

Is it okay if I request for headcanons on a Yandere s1 Thorfinn (in a romantic way) with a female reader who's the same age as him? Reader can't really fight well and was mainly recruited by Askeladd for other skills (e.g navigation, cooking, speaking multiple languages). Headcanons on how Yandere Thorfinn falls for reader, how he generally acts, and what if reader becomes uncomfortable with Thorfinn's overprotectiveness and tries to leave the crew / ask Askeladd for help?

Thank you! :DD

OMG its so nice to hear that ppl think I write him in character 😭 the greatest compliment for any writer

*akihiko voice* I've been WAITING for this , I actually have a Yandere Thorfinn WIP that hasn't been touched for a while and I need to get back into it

gonna add this as an extra for the thorfinn series cuz there's more yandere where this came frrom

I will post it someday, dont worry

also @omoxhri and @mitsureigen because I think they might enjoy this a-and maybe @yanderes-galore (*ﾉ▽ﾉ)

Yandere!S1!Thorfinn with a Female!Reader who becomes uncomfortable around him

ooooooh okay

Oh lemme get started with this ohh I am so in the mood for yandere thorfinn

So to fall for someone I think you would need to get close to Thorfinn like in my general Thorfinn headcanons. It's not exactly the closeness but rather the way you enter his life. Taking care of him, doing favors, listening to his story of his father, being this amicable shine of normalcy as he gets more and more comfortable with you and finally realizes you could be a friend. You are a friend.

During that time of bonding he might already develop some feelings for you but they are very, very subtle. Guy barely knows what he is feeling anyway. It might be because of your smile or your care and your kindness, your skills or wits. It could be everything combined.

Well, you are also the only woman he knows and has known the past eleven years...so there are definitely situations where he catches himself feeling flustered.

The real turning point for him to become a Yandere is when Askeladd concludes his 'experiment' and almost killed you (though there is another turning point that happens at the very end of the prologue but we'll go in detail in the upcoming parts ;) ).

He is and definitely will be overprotective of you and your well-being after that like in the general headcanons for sure, but there is a slight disdain and ache growing in his heart at the thought that the murderer of his father almost took you away from Thorfinn as well.

Had he not been there...not been fast enough, not been strong enough - not like he was when he was a six-year-old child - then you would have been gone, too.

Gone. Your body left to rotten in some burning forest where the danish soldiers would stomp on your corpse as if you were nothing.

As if you were a nobody. But you aren't. Oh, if only then knew.

How he generally acts afterwards is quite the shift. Thorfinn is as protective as always but to a point where he grows the most hostile he has ever been with the band.

The men and Askeladd barely can recognize him. Holding your body close to him, you sitting on his lap as he presses you tightly against his chest...one arm to support you while the other is holding his dagger so tightly his knuckles turn white.

He's staring into nothingness with a scowl.

Your wound has long healed but the blonde still cradles you as if the incident just happened. It's gotten a bit ridicilous in the men's eyes.

One of them might say something and will surely be met with Thorfinn's dark glare. If one even took one step closer, blood will be spilled before Askeladd can cease the conflict.

You need to really, really convince him that you are okay. You may not be a fighter, but you are still needed and can't just sit in one spot doing nothing. Thorfinn would need thourough explanations and promises before he lets you go. Only to follow close behind you.

Since you are a woman, he is much more careful and protective. He kinda, unfortunately, sees you as weak and it doesn't help that you aren't a fighter as well so any kind of damage, even a chip of your nail, is immediately met with a flinging dagger at the cause of your injury.

Thorfinn truly changes. He becomes overprotective, paranoid, clingy, longing and quiet after all of this. He is silent as he protects you and will only bark out insults, as well as his true feelings for you, when he is irritated or being mocked. You can imagine that Askeladd out of all people will jab the blonde and since it is, y'know, his father's killer and the one who attempted to murder you too, Thorfinn will not hold back or hesitate to scream his head off to him.

"Don't you dare open your mouth! You bastard tried to take her away from me too!"

'Tried to take her away from me.' - that's something he says a lot, Askeladd noted and so did you. It's startling to see your friend like this.

The paranoia stems from his fear of you being killed while he cannot do anything to protect you. As a child he had to watch his father die and back then he was only a small, defenseless kid. Now, he is a killer but he barely thinks of himself in such a way. In his mind, he is strong and on the way to become a true warrior. He is strong and quiet and skilled and deadly and those are all the things he needs to be to keep you safe.

Therefore, Thorfinn follows you everywhere like a loyal guard dog. To the woods, to the beach, on the road, sitting riiiight next to you on the ship, even following after you when you need to do your business in the bushes.

Sleeping, eating, marching, working, bathing - whatever you do, Thorfinn will be there.

When you tell him that this 'shadowing' makes you uncomfortable and that nothing dangerous is going to happen, Thorfinn will ALWAYS interject. He is doing this to look out for you. You understand when you are camping outside and sleeping or when you are even bathing, but he doesn't need to follow you all the time.

Again, he shakes his head with a scoff. He does need to. He must to, in order to keep you safe.

Besides, it's not like you can fight. You always need someone to protect you in general and that one is always Thorfinn (not like he'll let anyone else be near you) so you cannot really complain. Can you fight off an ambush? Yeah, that's what he thought.

The young man doesn't ruly mean to be harsh, he is just always on edge when you are somewhere out of your literal safe space. He doesn't trust anyone, not even friendly-looking villagers. Young or old, Thorfinn would step in front of you when someone approaches you. He is not the best talker but he will be just to not have this scum or whoever dare to make idle conversation with you. He won't let you answer to any strangers or bandmates, unless necessary.

Yet, as cold and harsh as he is, he is also oddly clingy. It may be the way he always touches you to keep you with him but there forms a weird longing to always be close to you. The hand that clutched your arm now slowly slides down to your hand and his thumb is brushing your skin. When sitting on the ship and he has his arm around you to keep you steady on these wild waves, his head unwittingly leans down to your shoulder, his locks tickling your neck. And when you cuddle to sleep in the winter, he won't let go. He is so still and so quiet, only a few flustered grunts escaping his lips but he does it anyway. He still caresses your hand and he still buries his head in your neck and he still cradles you in his arms. It's strange and out of nowhere.

It is also strange to see him long in such a quiet way. The touches, the worried remarks - they keep on returning again and again, even when they are not asked for. When you ask him to cut your hair, you do not ask him to play with it for what feels like eternity. When you return from a job, you do not ask to be yelled at by Thorfinn on where you were and that you should stay by his side, only to hear a mumbled apology and have him ask you, again and again, if you are fine and in need of anything.

Asking the man who tried to kill you just to see if his little tool would react for help, is a bold move. Crazy and foolish even.

Fine, let's say it's all forgotten and forgiven (no, it's not).

Askeladd is sure to realize the unhealthy behavior of the blonde and unlike the rest of the band, is aware what it means for you and him.

A cruel part of him might keep him that way and see how far he can go again when it comes to his feelings for you.

But...another part of him is understanding. Askeladd is a cunning hypocrite and I believe he has a soft spot for women in general due to his relationship with his mother and how she was treated. He is even softer for you if you remind him of her.

So...both men have a weird relationship so you can bet that he cannot just go and 'have a chat' with Thorfinn. Instead, Askeladd would slowly begin to give orders or put you in places where you and Thorfinn won't interact as much.

(Or he could take this to his advantage and experiment more how much he can actually use Thorfinn as a tool.)

Thorfinn will notice however and demand an explanation on what the hell this is supposed to be. He would never say it but to him it is clear that he and you are to be together. Nothing and nobody can just seperate you two.

Askeladd will let out half-assed excuses but if he feels quite vexed by the lad's constant sour attitude OR if he wants to simply torture you and let out the cat out of the bag, the leader will let Thorfinn know that YOU were the one who asked him to do this.

Thorfinn does not believe him and will not for weeks. A snake like himself cannot be trusted and Thorfinn holds you to such a high regard that he'd never dream of you 'betraying' him.

'Betrayal'. That's what he sees it as so once he starts to realize that his words were the truth, Thorfinn will feel immensily hurt by you. Can't you see that he only wants to keep you safe, that he IS keeping you safe? You mean more than any of these despicable bastards could, more than some crown prince of Denmark could. He isn't stupid, he isn't crazy, he's doing it all for you! So why are you fighting back when he is your protector?!

And you've went behind his back to his father's murderer! How could you?!

You try to explain that he knows no boundaries to the point where he endangers everyone but you - even himself!

But no, Thorfinn doesn't listen. In his mind, he is the right one or rather his actions are correct. All that he has done so far has kept you alive so it cannot be wrong.

And if you try to leave the band? Forget telling Askeladd. The man is selfish enough to keep your around despite your feelings since you are still useful to him.

So there you are, leaving in the dead of the night. The attempt is short-lived for Thorfinn notices quite quickly that you aren't sleeping by his side anymore and will find you just as fast.

He stands there with wide eyes and daggers in hand. What are you doing? Where are you going?

You try to explain as much as you want but it kind of doesn't enter his head. Thorfinn is more shocked at the fact that you are leaving and instead seems to stand idly and menacingly.

He hears your words...and it would be selfish to not let you leave. There's a small ringing in the back of his mind that tells him the truth - that it is selfish to not let you go.

This life is not a safe one. Amongst abhorrent vikigns who kill and raid. And now you were dragged into his life where he keeps on risking it for something as petty as revenge.

It would be selfish. Selfish...

"No..." is all he managed to let out before he pounces on you and holds you so tight on his arms you fear your bones will shatter.

He would never hurt you. But he will never let you go.

For in this messed up life of his full of blood and death, you are the only normalcy that he has.

Besides the vengeance, he has nothing in his life but you.

The blonde tries to justify it that he can keep you safe the most. There is no one else out there who would protect a woman like you like he does. There is no one out there...that loves you like he does.

He tries to justify it while you struggle under him. He tries to not think of any 'selfishness' as he holds you close and never lets you go.

Other things about being female with a Yandere! Thorfinn where I didn't know where to put them in:

I really hate to say it but you being a woman, Thorfinn would see you as weak.

It's less about 'weakness' and more about his belief that nobody is as 'strong' as him. Having survived and killed for so long he is quite confident in his skills and therefore believes himself to be a bit special...or, if anything, closer to a 'true warrior' than anyone else in the band.

So his overprotectivess is off the charts. He won't ever tell you you're weak but might yell it out when you irritate him too much. You aren't as strong as him, not as strong as you think you are! Let him handle this.

The overprotectiveness also stems from his distrust and disgust around the other men when it comes to you. A woman like you isn't seen as a person in the eyes of vikings - of these bastards - so he keeps you close only to him (just the way he likes it).

Well, and if you have more feminine features he, well, will notice them. Of course, he will notice them when he has been surrounded by nothing but men and their features. So yours are different and new...and nice.

But not only that...he notices how different you are. When feeling anything positive, the band smirks and leers...but you smile and grin so naturally, so softly. When they laugh, they guffaw at the suffering over others and you chortle and giggle at a stupid joke. It's different and so much more amicable. You're strange and normal.

However, Thorfinn scoffs and looks away when he catches himself staring at you since he feels he is not being better than any of the other mates. He can't just...stare at your hair and your eyes and your form...he would feel like them even if he silently admits to himself that he likes looking at you.

JEALOUSY JEALOUSY JEALOUSY but only to people he doesn't think are scum :D i.e. people like Canute (anyone but Askeladd). Thorfinn isn't insecure in the slightest - he just doesn't like the fact that someone is looking at you the way he is looking at you. The same softness, the same weakness.

NO >:(

Openly aggressive to them and anyone really.

I feel like he would really like soft women idk

[shukakumoodboard]

*Pulls out my massive bag of money and jewels and blow* I’m your biggest fan so I must pick your brain now that you have a tumblr ask box. your finest gaalee romance hcs my good sir. Please

help.

I’m your biggest fan

did you know im crying ab this. kissing u on the face rn

ok gaalee romance headcanons. i've been thinking about this for days. grab ur mojito mix lets frockign gaur

ill be upfront in that i have very few i'll-die-on-this-hill opinions about the boys, but here's some i'm pretty stuck to <3

sfw headcanons

1. lee's better with words, gaara's better with actions, and they're both secretly envious of the other for it: my thoughts here are that gaara spent so much of his life not understanding love that he'd still struggle to articulate it in flowery ways that i think, as a born theatre kid, lee would be good at. but gaara would absolutely be that person who shows it in subtle ways -- like taking care of someone when sick, remembering food preferences, always ensuring lee takes care of himself when lee forgets or is busy having a self-flagellation moment. not that i think lee would be incompetent, but he strikes me as more of a scatterbrain, but would always be on top of verbal reassurances and affection (which i also think is what gaara would benefit from: clear straightforward declarations of feelings and intent)

2. they're both super cuddly in private look, you put together a touch-starved former monster vessel and a social outcast who mostly knows touch from violence (until gai) and you are going to get some clinginess imo. you can't convince me they're not the kind of people who would sit side by side at the dinner table so they can eat holding hands. bro (emotional)

3. they're probably actually really shit at "conventional" dating hear me out ok. they're like initially so far away and gaara is the whole president and lee kicked a meteor in half one time you think they can just wander around and go to restaurants? it's absolutely nonsense that shinobi don't suffer village celebrity paparazzi syndrome in nart tbh. not exactly the same but i have a whole wip in the bort-verse about them sneaking around. tldr i'd bet they sometimes get casual breakfast or dinner but i think more likely takeout and quiet time together as opposed to like fancy dates

4. language learning and hobbying as a form of devotion as a purveyor of my wares u may notice i have language headcanons. it is also my gaalee romance hc that they learn each others -- i've incorporated this into in the space between and a wip called multilingual, which is all about nejiten teasing lee about his crush on gaara in front of the man. i also think that lee would lean into gaara's gardening stuff with gusto because if it's something gaara loves, lee would want to love it too.

nsfw headcanons huehuehuhe

1. they're switches and i WILL die on this hill i think this is self explanatory but listen. listen i am SIQUE of the assigned top/bottom nonsense they both deserve to rail and also be railed. i may be the resident owner of the Rock Lee Fucks tag on AO3 but i also own the Gaara Fucks tag. ill kill a man over this

2. lee is absolutely a service anything this ties into the previous one. a big component of his canonical personality is that he's a disciple of gai -- he's a follower who bases a lot of himself around those he cares for. not the kind of person who is suddenly going to crop up with an intensely specific preference, imo? i think he would base his role on whatever his partner needs the most at the time.

3. rock lee's canonically huge dick ok lol listen. listen this one's canon jokes aside i think lee is hung as detailed in We Don't Talk About Fight Club and i will continue that joke. that being said i think normal hung. not arizona tea can hung which is a hilariously illustrated discord joke

4. tbh i think they're kinda vanilla in the bedroom i say this in a positive way i think they'd be far more into like, just being able to be with each other instead of getting into wild sexual mischief all over the villages although they definitely bone in weird places secretly. they Fuck, but like i don't see them as super kinksters or anything. however, i have seen many a kinkfic that im like nodding my head this is valid cakesitting bdsm what who said that

5. gaara's vaguely nebulous oral fixation i really have no justification for this one i just think some of those animal bijuu instincts might linger and turn into what that mouth do idk i keep going to write smut and whoops my whole body slipped and gaara's licking something. happened in fight club and fight club II, happened in hole time, happened in tgod, happens in at least two wips i have cookin' in the background... what is goin on actually

dkghkdf i hope you enjoyed this episode of kel's questionable headcanons. i really enjoyed answering, thank you so much for the ask <3

[illuminatedferret]

Oh!!! I had a thought!!! In the coffin prayer fic- it isn't just Hua Cheng's prayers that Xie Lian can hear, is it??? I mean, he's obviously most of what Xie Lian would hear, but- what about the random of believer??? Maybe Feng Xin or Mu Qing praying to him by old reflex on rare occasions? People he might have helped or saved who thought he was a god in disguise and directed prayers his way? People from Lang'an Bay (I think it was) or remnants of Xianle? Even just one or two people - wouldn't it be possible??

those would be some really cool ideas to explore! i dont plan on incorporating people other than Hua Cheng praying to Xie Lian in the Coffin Prayer AU for two reasons- one, it broadens the focus of the fic more than i intended to pull other people into the story, even if only in passing. i have an issue with my WIPs exploding into fic far longer than intended already, and this would just be asking for it. two, you touch on a really interesting aspect of canon, which is how prayers work! specifically, under what circumstances can a god receive prayers? can they just be directed at the person, or do you need some sort of idol or focus for your prayer to get through? it's unclear from canon. for this fic, i guess i'm following the same idea that dearly departed uses- that you need something that represents the person to successfully pray to them. i've seen some neat fic that have a less strict stance on prayers, but, i dunno, it's just how i'm inclined to write it.

[beechersnope]

hello, i have been husked like an ear of corn by your stunningly hot MUD FUCKING MAXIEL FIC. 🆘🆘🆘🆘🆘 do you have any other maxiel thoughts to grace us with?

thank you 😇😇😇 with your reblog it has finally broken containment outside my circle of mutuals, so i really appreciate that!

as for further thoughts: i have multiple maxiel wips on my stovetop at the moment because i am incapable of focusing on just one thing at a time. (they're basically all girl max because it's my fave & i'm obsessed with it)

one of my favorites to think about at the moment is a desert street racing au where max is the sheriff's daughter & daniel is a trailer trash dirtbag she immediately becomes obsessed with after discovering the street racing scene.

as a thank you for this ask i am including a snippet of a scene from this au that i've been thinking about for a while where max rims daniel for the first time. hope you enjoy!

***

“You’re sure you want to?” Daniel asks her. He’s tense all over, can’t imagine this going as well for him as it did for her.

“You did it for me,” Max says, mirroring Daniel’s thoughts—but like a mirror: in reverse.

“That’s not exactly the same,” he points out. Max wasn’t like him. She wasn’t broken. She’d just needed a bit of a helping hand. Or tongue, as it were.

Max sits back on her heels and stares down at him with a frown. “We don’t have to try it if you’re uncomfortable,” she says bluntly.

Daniel winces. He isn’t about to tell her that he spent almost eighty bucks on a room at the only motel in town just so he could take advantage of the running water, but sure enough, he’s committed. “I’m open to the mysteries of the universe, baby,” he says, hoping to assuage her concerns, as valid as they may be.

“Yeah?” Max’s mouth curves into a smile despite her best efforts to suppress it. “Would you let me fuck you, too?”

Daniel shrugs, the pillow scrunching against his neck, reminding him of the strangeness of their positions—him, on his back, unclothed; Max, sitting between his legs, still in her Sunday best. The heat was making the sheets stick to Daniel’s skin. He could see damp spots under Max’s arms every time she moved, turning her cotton candy pink church dress see-through. Daniel wasn’t sure how much longer he could consider himself fresh even after his extraordinarily thorough shower at the motel, so maybe he should just suck it up and move things along.

“I wouldn’t rule it out entirely,” he promises her. “You wanna try now?” Daniel grabs one of the other pillows, shoving it under his hips the same way he’d done for her when he’d gone down on her the first time in his noble quest of giving Max her first orgasm. This won’t be his first, if she really manages to succeed, but it’ll be a feat, nonetheless.

“Try fucking you?” Max jokes. “Talk about zero to sixty.”

Daniel rolls his eyes. “Come on,” he urges. “Before I change my mind again.”

Max approaches this the same way she does with everything: singular focus, an almost unsettling intensity. Her hands are warm against Daniel’s thighs as she tries to find the right position. She ends up almost flat on her stomach, her elbows keeping her propped up as she breathes damp and hot against Daniel’s taint.

Suddenly, he’s terrified. What if he didn’t clean enough? What if she hates it? What if he hates it? What if this doesn’t work and it’s just as hollow and unfulfilling as everything else and Daniel can’t stop regretting what he did to himself—

“You need to relax,” Max says, throwing Daniel’s own words of advice back in his face. “Just—think about the road.”

Daniel tips his head back and stares at the faded cathouse road map taped to the ceiling of his trailer. He imagines driving the route from the Chicken Ranch to the grounded plane out front of the abandoned Angel’s Ladies, conjuring the smell of dust and creosote in his nostril as he twitches his feet in time with the shifting gears in his mind.

“Touch yourself,” Max suggests once his breathing levels out.

Daniel reaches down without looking and takes his cock in hand. It takes him a few minutes to get hard, but he tries not to think about it, detouring through Death Valley up to Dante’s View in his head as he slowly thumbs over the head, ignoring the sensation of Max’s breath against his skin. The hairpin turns as he winds up the mountain require all of his concentration, and he loses himself in the neutrality of his hand working his cock, no different than the feeling of a hand on the gearshift. It’s all mechanical, rote, the engine working, the tires spinning, the blood rushing to his dick just because he’s going through the motions.

Then Max licks roughly over his hole without uttering so much as a word of warning, and Daniel goes flying off the cliff.

[lunapwrites]

having a bit of a bad brainspace weekend.

i am intensely uncomfortable and unable to do things for myself that i normally could do and this is my not-so-friendly reminder that despite the sometimes crippling ADHD and the fact that my GI issues suck i am, in fact, mostly usually quite able-bodied. i am used to things i am not physically able to do being more in the realm of "touching my toes" due to my intense lack of flexibility or "lift my partner" due to him being 3x my size. I've historically been pretty strong and in good shape for someone that is allergic to the gym, so i was not anticipating adding things like "putting on socks" and "rescuing my sweet idiot dog from the couch he's forgotten how to get off of" to that list.

i made the mistake of asking my partner what it looked like i was struggling with rn because i'm not good at recognizing when i actually need to ask for help vs when i can just power through. this was a poor decision because this means that i received an itemized list of my recent failures. not phrased in a way to be hurtful, just expressing frustration because these were all things that i had previously handled myself with ease and now a) was suddenly not doing, or doing inconsistently, and b) was not indicating i needed help with. and he's not trying to step in on his own and make me feel micromanaged or smothered, because he knows i want to do for myself as much as possible (and also i'd probably bite his head off) and he's 100% correct. and he had to kind of sit me down and be like "you are pushing yourself too hard please stop" and i wanted to shake him and scream that i'm not, that i don't feel like i'm doing enough because i am just a pile of disappointments right now. massive laundry lists of things i need to do and can't because literally if i try it physically hurts me.

anyway i really want to write but the second i sit down i either get distracted with something else or fall asleep or sit there vibrating over the things i should be doing but can't so. there's that. [gazes longingly at several half-written WIP chapters wasting away in the corner] i know where they're all going. i just don't have the gas to get us there. and i hate that. especially because i have this intense fear of not having time for writing at all once Bean is here.

idk. everything sucks rn and i hate it here and i don't wish this on anyone. next person who tells me this is a wonderful miracle and that i should feel so blessed is getting a shoe thrown at them. "best thing you've ever done" fuck you. i know what i did and why, but i also knew it was going to suck ass at least 90% of the time. it was, i thought, an informed decision. i either underestimated the level of disability i would be experiencing or overestimated my ability to cope with it. like it's fine it's temporary i will get through it but jesus fucking christ this is rotten work. and not in a "not if it's you" or an "especially if it's you" sort of way, but more of a "despite" situation. i adore this kid so much already but i also want to be able to stand up for more than 5 consecutive minutes without feeling like i might die. i want to be able to have a conversation without immediately being out of breath. and even all of that i feel terrible venting about because in terms of symptoms i am getting off SO FUCKING EASY. it could have been way worse. and i'm bitching about it this hard. bitching about what???

anyway. so begins the final countdown. with me crying hysterically over a bag of fuckin pastries i left on the counter and feeling lower than i think i've felt since '09, which ain't a great feeling.

[deep breath.] everything will be fine. it just sucks right now. and also i really hate writing thank you cards.

[itwasthereaminuteago]

|| Hell's Belle ||

Outlaw Frank Castle x Saloon girl reader

Tags/warnings: sex worker reader, oral (f rec), p in v unprotected sex (wrap it B4 you tap it!), blood, bit of angst, mention of death, mentions of canon typical violence, fluff.

W/c ~ 5300

A/n: thank you to @e-dubbc11 who showed me gunslinger Punisher art and had me cranking this out ahead of all my other wips! Huge thanks to @stress--relief for beta reading! If you enjoy my writing please comment/reblog it would be much appreciated! 💕

You finish rolling up your stockings, smoothing the band of silk and lace neatly over your thigh before arranging your dress, then you dab on the lightest touch of rouge and perfume before it's time to work.

As you descend the staircase to the bar you feel the eyes are on you as usual, men and a few women too. Among them are those belonging to a man dressed hat to boots in black, sitting in the corner of the bar with Billy. He'd been in here for the past few nights, stealing looks when he thought you didn't notice, but you noticed everything. It was a survival skill in this environment. You could tell so much about a person by the clothes they wore, how they carried themselves, who they spoke to and what they drank. It paid to be perceptive and aware of the little things, if you missed the subtle way a man was about to reach for his weapon, things could get very dangerous. Everything about this particular fella screamed danger, and even seated you could tell he was big. He had stubble on his jaw you could strike a match on and yet he hadn't yet worked up the cojones to try his luck with you. Or maybe women just weren't his thing.

You take your seat at the bar and Josie hands you a drink as you cross one leg over the other, getting comfortable.

As the evening draws on you shoo away the sleezy advances of the normal punters, but you can't help note that the newcomer has barely taken his eyes from you all night. You were used to it, you had that effect on people. All of the girls in Hell's Belles were sweet, but you were the sweetest, a gilded lily if there ever was one. You were in demand, your reputation surpassed you, and you were therefore able to charge whatever you wanted for a night in your chamber, and could afford to be fussy with who you let in.

However, tonight Mr Tall, Dark and Menacing finally decided to approach the bar and so you prepared yourself for the usual shit you had to endure from outlaws and so-called sharpshooters who thought they could walk in and take whatever they wanted. 

He was in for a shock.

"Buy you a drink, miss?" His voice is deep and thick, like gravel mixed with molasses, and at this close distance your first impression that he was handsome was not wrong, although in a rugged and rough kind of way, with a nose that you'd wager had been broken more than once.

"You can buy me a drink, but don't think it'll get you anywhere, mister. I've seen you sitting with Billy Russo, and I don't doubt he's told you I don't just lift my skirts and lay down for any old gunslinger."

Frank nods politely. "That he did miss, but uh, if you pardon me, nobody said we gotta be layin' down…"

He's bold, and smooth, you'll give him that. He might have even raised a tiny smile from you with that cheeky remark, but still you roll your eyes.

"Whatever the lady's having." He says to the barmaid.

"Charge him for a double, Josie." You add.

"Thank you ma'am." Frank says as he passes his last wad of notes to Josie without any reluctance, tiling his head to the side. "Any reason, or you just like messin' with strangers?"

"As I said, you're with Billy, and he's on my shit list so you get to suffer too."

"What'd he do, if you don' mind me askin'?"

'He talks too damn much."

At that Frank chuckles, raising his tumbler. "Ain't that the truth. Boy definitely has a mouth on 'im."

"Mm." You look him up and down unashamedly. "I get the feeling you're more of the strong, silent type."

"Maybe. Could be whatever you want me to be Miss." Frank rumbles and you decide that you like his attitude. You're not giving over so easily though. You sigh and take a sip of your drink. "How about gone? You can't afford me."

"S'funny, I was thinkin' of knocking over a bank this week, that change anythin'?" Frank proposes, despite your thorny exterior he's not lost one iota of confidence.

You laugh. "Oh you're very funny, mister…?"

"Castle. Frank Castle." He offers his hand and you place your empty glass in it.

He gestures to Josie for a refill. "M'serious though, s'why I'm in town. Got some business to take care of." He's got an edge to his look, a hint of something heavy hanging over him.

You nod towards the twin pistols that hang from either side of his chest.

"That kinda business? Those are some big guns you've got there mister Castle."

"The size don't matter sweetheart, it's knowin' how to use em, but I'll warrant you know all about that."

"Mm, careful with the 'sweethearts' Castle, I'm not yours yet, and sadly I'm rarely impressed." You reply with a shortness.

"Apologies Miss, but maybe you look out from your balcony at dawn tomorrow if you want your proof."

You shake your head and smile. "Hmm, it's gotta be a damn special man that'll make me get out of bed before dawn."

Frank's mouth quirks up at the side and he tips his hat as he finishes his drink, pushing off the bar. "Maybe. S'been a pleasure talkin' with you Miss. G'night."

His drawl settles deep within you bringing with it a hint of heat and you curse yourself, hoping he'll prove your doubts wrong that he's a drifter just like any other, that he'll actually be worth the gamble. Or at least worth losing a lie in. You could do with the money after all.

You prop your chin up on your hand on the bar. "C'mon Jose, spill."

Josie gives you a knowing look as she leans across to share what she knows. Josie hears everything. "Well, he's an outlaw, but you knew that already."

You click your tongue. "Yeah, and? Surely you've heard some talk."

"Mm. Word is he's an outlaw that's been killin' other outlaws, maybe just for the money, or revenge. Dunno what he's gettin' revenge for though."

You glance over your shoulder to where Russo is laughing heartedly but Castle isn't giving away any emotion.

"Careful honey, that there's a rough road you don't wanna go down. He might be charmin' but he sounds like bad news. I heard some folks call him The Punisher."

When you eventually retire for the night you find you can't rid your mind of him, and you're up and pulling on your silk robe before the first rays of the sun break above the horizon. 

The air on the balcony is blessedly cool and the street mostly empty but then you see a few figures gathering on the dirt road, one of them an unmistakeable tall, dark silhouette. They talk for a while and then Frank Castle and his dueling opponent slowly walk to opposing ends of the street.

The air grows tense as they stand there, ready, waiting for the signal to draw. When it comes everything moves like lightning. It's over so quickly, Frank's coat swirls around his legs along with the dust cloud he's kicked up as he spun around. Your gaze flits to the other end of the street and you see his opponent is still standing, but his pistols have been shot straight out of his hands and lie on the ground.

Billy is down there too, laughing and demanding that the other bystander pay up a wager. You watch Frank holster his own pistols, a shiver of a thrill climbing up your spine as he turns to look up towards your window, subtly tipping his hat because he knew you'd be there watching. Of course he knew, and now you're even more intrigued to see if he'll approach you again later tonight, and put his money where his mouth is.

Sure enough that night he walks up to the bar beside you and orders a full bottle of whiskey. 

"Fine evenin', Miss." He says, tipping his hat. You accept the glass that he slides over to you and then stand up, your heels clicking as you cross the wooden floor to the stairs.

"You can bring the bottle." You call over your shoulder.

He follows after a beat, shooting a look towards Billy who just shakes his head in disbelief.

"Yes ma'am."

You're sitting on the edge of the bed when he knocks and enters, removing his hat and coat and hanging them on the hook on the back of the door. 

"Like what you saw this mornin', Miss?"

"Maybe. Are you always that flashy?"

The ghost of a smile appears on his grizzled face. "Nah, just a bit of fun. 'sides, it got me here didn't it?"

You walk over to him, standing close, sliding your hands over his black waistcoat and shirt and then down to his harness, releasing his guns from their soft leather holsters and pulling them out. They're a nice weight in your hands and you notice the handles are expertly inlaid with tiny white skulls bright against the ebony.

"Wanted to see if you can handle a woman as well as you handle these." You invite, placing them down gently on your bureau. He grabs you then and you gasp as he holds you fast, one strong arm wrapped around your waist and the other sliding into your hair as he allows his dark brown gaze to roam over you. You heat up instantly at his gall.

"Ain't gonna rush this." He says, before dipping his head to kiss you. Despite all appearances his lips are pillowy soft and slow against your own. He's right, he's in no rush but you open up for him a little as his tongue lightly trails the seam of your mouth. He kisses at your bottom lip, tugs on it just enough to get you to release a pained sound, and then he's kitten licking, teasing the taste of him as your hands snake up around his thick neck and shoulders to pull him closer. You want more.

He lifts you up easily, walking you to the bed and setting you down to sit on the edge again and you watch him, feeling yourself grow wet between your thighs as he steps back and carefully rolls up his sleeves.

"What happened to not needing to lay down?" You ask as he gently persuades you down onto your back. He hikes up your dress skirts, sliding his big hands with surety up your legs, bunching the fabric around your hips. He has a darkness and hunger in his eyes and it scares and arouses you in equal measure.

"I told ya Miss. Gonna take my time. May I?" He gestures to your skimpy underclothes and you nod, lifting your hips as he gently pulls your soaked frilly knickers down your legs and throws them aside. He gets down on his knees on the rug and your heart is thumping hard against your bustier. It's not so often that a man will go down on you for your pleasure alone, and this man, this dark brooding beast, looks like he's waited all his days to do just that.

His hands smooth up the outsides of your thighs over your silky stockings and grip your waist as he carefully pulls you closer to the edge of the bed. You sigh deeply as he spreads your legs apart. 

"I gotta say Miss… you're a true beauty. The sweetest balm for the eyes." He licks his lips and it's all you can do to moan long and loud as he puts his sweet-talking mouth to work on you. He knows exactly what he's doing, pushing all of your proverbial buttons and driving out the most desperate sounds that you've ever heard yourself make. He licks and laps, sucks on your clit and fucks you so damn good with just his mouth and tongue, but your pussy aches with need and so you paw for his hand, urging him to slip his fingers in. There's a rumble deep in his throat as he covers two thick digits in your slick and slowly pushes them in your entrance, stretching you just a little.

"Mmm, oh fuck, just like that…"

"Yeah?" The low tone of his voice makes your cunt squeeze around his fingers and he watches you react. "Y'like that Miss?" He asks eagerly as he starts to curl his fingers, stroking your inner walls in a way that has you panting for breath as you feel your orgasm being easily teased from you.

"Yeah, that's it girl," he rasps, "let it go."

You cry out, your back arching. He holds your legs apart with his free hand as you shake, trying to close them on him but he makes you come, leaning back down and flicking his fucking insanely dexterous tongue over your sensitive clit as you fall apart, clenching around him over and over until he finally slows and stops, leaving you a breathless mess.

You watch him as he gets to his feet, licking his fingers and lips with an admittedly well deserved satisfaction. He takes a sip of whiskey and offers you one too, before he sets it aside to unbutton his waistcoat and shirt. When you were close you could feel that he was built, but seeing him unclothed from the waist up had you drinking every chiseled inch of muscle in with a deep thirst.

You tugged at the bow to your bodice lacing, loosening it and turning so he could unwrap you. He said he was gonna take his time, and take his sweet time he does. He kisses every inch of your skin he exposes with reverence, repeating his praise of your beauty until you are naked but for your stockings. You push him back against the wall running your fingers through his hair, scratching your nails over his jaw as you kiss your way down his neck and broad chest. Your hand slides lower still, feeling every ridge and dip of muscle until he hisses and groans when you palm over his hard confined length. 

"It's how you use it," you squeeze and he makes a gruff sound. "So use it." 

He untangles himself from you only to strip off his boots and britches in a hot second, and then he's spinning you around, taking hold of your leg, lifting it up and sliding himself inside your slick heat with a grunt. You moan with the relief you feel as he fills you. He's perfect, hitting your spot as he thrusts into you slow and steady, like he could keep this up all night long if you asked him to. Your teeth graze along his collarbone as he fucks you up against the wall, his own pleasure quiet and restrained while you let the whole Kitchen know that some lucky guy is ringing the queen of the bordello's bell.

You wake up late, alone, sore but sated. The covers had been pulled up around your shoulders and you stretch out your body contentedly, until the realisation hits you that you hadn't taken any money from him.

Fuck. 

You usually made your clients pay it up front but he had you so distracted… 

When you roll over to push yourself up you freeze. There's a sizable stack of notes sitting there on your nightstand, way more than you were planning to charge when you counted them. You'd have to take it to your stash soon, it wasn't wise to have that much money laying around on the premises. 

Frank Castle had proved himself, in more ways than one, and the girls were quick to grill you about him when you went to bathe. 

"So, you survived, and how was he?" Madani smirks as you settle into the tub.

You can't stop the sly smile from spreading across your lips. "Thorough." 

Karen laughs. "Yeah we kinda noticed you're late up, you never sleep in!"

You sigh softly, sinking into the hot water that was easing your sore muscles. "Oh you girls should get a piece for yourself, he sure knows how to treat a lady." 

He had put your pleasure before everything else last night, and that was a rare thing in your line of work, especially from a drifter.

"Oh, believe us we've tried. I reckon all of the girls have been to his table. He was polite and all but he wasn't interested in any of us. Seems he only has eyes for you, sugar. How about that?"

You only raise a brow and carry on washing your hair, the gorgeous rose scent carrying in the steam of the baths.

Karen leans across nudging Madani. "Just look at her, she's smitten."

You throw your washcloth at them, splashing water everywhere. "Am not! It's just refreshin' to get a good customer once in a while."

Madani grins. "Oh you are sugar, you got them dreamy eyes, wonderin' if you're gonna see him again."

Karen cackles. "Yep, you get one good dick and you're already pickin' out your weddin' dress!"

"Quit it you two!"

-

You take half of your earnings to the bank that afternoon, the rest of it tucked securely in your garter to be deposited elsewhere. You never entirely trusted the banks to keep your nest egg safe. The church at the end of the street was quiet as usual, there were less and less god-fearing residents these days; it was more for decoration than worship.

"Father, it's just me!" You call as you walk down between the scruffy termite-ridden pews towards the altar. Reverend Murdock was arranging the bibles for Mass and lifted his head to flash you a smile.

"Haven't seen you here for some time, come to pray, confess, or make a deposit?" 

Of all the people in this shithole of a town, it was perhaps surprising that the reverend understood you the most. He was a peculiar man in terms of the religion he supposedly practiced and preached. He didn't judge you harshly for your career path, and he always had an ear to lend whenever you needed it.

"It's the latter today, I'm actually getting close to having enough."

He chuckles, "and here I thought you'd drained the pocketbooks of all the men in this town! I kid, I'm happy to hear it although I'll miss you when you leave."

You retrieve your stashed bundle of notes and hand them to him as you embrace. "Well there's always fresh blood, father, and thank you, again.

"That's what I'm afraid of. Alright, I'll keep this safe for you. Will you be coming along tonight for prayer?" 

You giggle. "I'm sorry father, I've been on my knees so much recently they're practically red raw, I don't think I can!" You slap him playfully on the arm and he chuckles along with you as you say your goodbyes.

-

"You know just how lucky you are, you mangy dog?" Billy was also grilling Frank on the previous night's activities.

"I do. You ain't gettin' anythin' outta me though. Gentleman never tells." 

Billy just grins. "Gentleman… pah! Can see it already, one night Castle, and you're soft on her."

Frank shoots him a stony glare. 

He holds his hands up in defense. "Don't blame you brother. You ready to go do this?"

-

The next night Frank appears with bloody knuckles and another thick stack of bills. He takes you apart on the bed. First with his fingers as your own hand curls around his cock and you pant into each other's mouths before you let him fuck you. Most men would take you from behind like you're only a hole for them, but not him. He lays you down, and you get a sense of just how big he is as he holds himself above you, his lips trailing tantalising kisses all over your skin before he enters you slowly. He treats you gently, he's making love to you, and it's not without a fiery passion. You wrap your legs around him tightly as you drag your nails lightly up his back at the unfiltered bliss you're experiencing.

"This okay, Miss? Goddamn y'feel fuckin' heavenly..."

You murmur your agreement. "Y'don't have to call me Miss anymore." you breathe. He rolls his hips deliciously, kissing up your neck and under your jaw as he moves like a wave. 

"Mm, what should I be callin' you? Darlin'? Honey? Sweetheart?" He thrusts deeper with every term of endearment he suggests and you start to lose your mind.

"How 'bout just… my name?" And you whisper it to him, nipping gently at his earlobe.

"Such a pretty name, for a pretty girl." When it rolls off his tongue full of sin as he says it back to you, you're gone.

Afterwards, he uses your basin to clean up and starts reaching for his clothes and you make a decision.

"You got somewhere to be tonight Castle?" You ask, watching him pause at the question.

"Depends. Didn't think you'd want me to stay the night." 

You pat the space on the mattress he's left beside you. "A girl can get lonely."

He hesitates for a mere moment before he climbs back in beside you. "Much rather be here than the boardin' house, that's for sure."

You smile and take his hand, your expression fading to concern as you kiss over his raw and bruised knuckles. 

"Just business." He says in answer to your silent question.

"Not the fun kind." You offer.

He shakes his head and takes your hand in his with returning kisses. He wasn't going to tell you he bloodied his fists beating information out of someone, information that moved him ever closer to his revenge.

"You get the money alright?" He asks, changing the subject.

You nod. "It's more than I expected." 

"Worth every penny." He looks down at your joined hands, his thumb passing mindlessly over your soft skin. "And uh, if you'll have me, I'll keep comin' as long as I'm around."

You find yourself stunned by his admission, yet another rarity to be asked if you wanted to see a man again. "You keep throwing all your money at me Frank, I'm gonna be outta here in no time."

"S'that right? You savin' up to escape?" 

You nod.

"Know where you're gonna go?" 

You don't normally talk about your plans with your customers, but for some reason you feel like you want to with Frank. "I dunno, just… somewhere else. Far away. It's been fun but I don't wanna be doin' this forever."

Frank nods and grabs the whiskey bottle, taking a slug. "So uh, s'that mean I might just be your last?"

You smile as you straddle him, stealing the drink from him. "Mm. You might just be, Frank."

You set the bottle down and idly trail random patterns over his bare chest with your fingers. "How long are you planning on staying?"

He gazes up at you, his expression suddenly solemn and hard and it makes you regret probing further.

"Until it's done." He simply says.

You're still half asleep and barely register when he kisses your cheek in the morning before he leaves. "Might be gone a couple days…" he whispers, but you only murmur softly as the bedroom door closes behind him.

-

He didn't bank on this, he was just following the trail of blood from town to town, and making a trail of his own as he tortured and despatched those that had wronged him in pursuit of vengeance. He thought it was so clear and simple, but now there was you. He had only meant to ease the weight of his task, to forget why he was doing this for a little while, to lose himself in a pretty girl. 

Frank tightens the strap of the stirrups and pulls himself up into the saddle, checking his pistols are fully loaded before clicking his tongue and coaxing his horse onward.

-

You visit the church again to stash more of your savings. On the way the streets are rife with reports that there's been a massacre in the county and Reverend Murdock meets you at the door. "You hear the news? Bank got shot up in the next town, total carnage. Folks say there wasn't even money stolen, just the owners and the guards shot clean through the eye."

'What?" Your first thoughts go to Frank. You shouldn't have been surprised, you knew his reputation and it was clear he was in the area for a specific reason. You just hoped that if it turned out to be him that he did what he did for a damn good reason.

-

It's late and you're dozing as you're woken by a knock at your door. It's Josie.

"M'sorry to wake you love but it's the outlaw. Should I tell 'im to git? It's mighty late and frankly he's a mess but figured I should check with you first."

You could have just ignored him but something makes you pull on your robe and follow Josie downstairs. You thank her and open the door to find Frank leaning up against the frame. You already know the truth of what's happened. You can't see his face but you can tell he's injured. 

"The bank?" You ask him.

He nods. "There's somethin' I wanna tell you, I know you don't owe me nothin' but…"

"C'mon," you beckon him in. "Leave your coat and shit down here."

You lead him through the empty bar up to the private bathroom and get the kettle from the range, sitting him down and taking a good look at him in the oil lamp light. 

"M'fine." He protests, but you motion him to take off his dirty shirt and instantly spot an angry graze on his side. You grab a towel and wet it, dabbing the blood from the wound and making sure it's not deep. It's when you're in front of him that he finally speaks as you're cleaning a cut on his cheek.

"Few years back, a gang run by someone I owed money to broke into my home while I was outta town." Your eyes flick to meet his but you stay silent as you work, letting him continue.

"House wasn't empty though, my wife, my boy, my little girl were there…"

You sit back, feeling a coldness creep into the room.

"They uh, turned the place over lookin' for the money y'know, an' when they couldn't find none they killed them. Killed my family."

Your hand moves to cover your mouth in shock. You can't imagine what it would be like to face such horror. Your eyes brim with tears for both them and him. "Oh Frank! I- I'm so sorry."

He reaches for you, stroking the side of your face with a gentleness that used to contrast his demeanor. But not now.

"You don't gotta be sorry for me sweetheart. I've done my grievin'. Been searchin' for so long, tearin' up the world since then, and I finally found the fucker behind it all, and the fuckin' scum that worked under him, the ones that did it. Rotten to the fuckin' core, all of em."

"...and last night, you did it, they're dead aren't they, it's done?" You looked right at him, his gaze didn't waver.

"Yeah, It's done. My family, they can rest now." He sighs, saying those words out loud feels like a ten tonne weight has been lifted off his shoulders. 

"Listen, they'll be lookin' for me, I gotta get outta here. I just- I guess I didn't wanna leave without sayin' goodbye."

You cup his face in your hands and lay a soft kiss on his lips. "Stay, rest. It ain't the kinda night to be riding off right now. You can set off at dawn." 

He nods, conceding instantly. He's dog-tired from fighting, from riding, from thinking, but the thought of spending one last night in the haven of your bed was just what he needed.

You make sure he's fed and watered before you lead him to your room.

Frank promised himself that once this was over, once he had gotten closure, he'd allow himself a new life, one where there was peace. Maybe one day even happiness. As he curled his body around the warmth of your sleeping form he wondered if maybe you'd feature in it.

It was a stupid thought as you barely knew each other but maybe you knew enough. But either way he couldn't stop his dumb mouth from moving.

"Sweetheart," he calls into your skin. "I was thinkin'..."

You stir, turning in his arms and blinking open your eyes. He looks different, the darkness is gone. "Yeah Frank?"

"Know you were thinkin' o' leaving this place. Thought that maybe-"

You finish his sentence before he can. "I could go with you?" 

He tucks a few stray strands of hair behind your ear. "Only if y'wanna. I know you're a strong woman, but the world's a dangerous place, an' I'd feel better knowin' that you're safe, least until you find somewhere y'wanna be."

"You'd protect me?" You ask, enjoying the way he suddenly turns bashful when you're looking at him the way you are, like he's offering up something that he's kept locked away for a long while. 

"Would do my damned best. And, y'know, although he's good company, Billy ain't as pretty as you."

You smile at his charms and it coaxes one from him too. He pulls you closer, kissing you as he rolls you on top and you're careful to avoid his injury as you place your knees on either side of his hips. His hands run up your back, pulling your nightdress up and off over your head.

"Beautiful." He murmurs as he guides you back down to him, his lips laying sweet kisses along your neck.

"C'mere Castle." Your purr, working his underwear off and releasing his thickening cock. You moan into mouth as he captures your lips again, grinding up against your bare pussy. 

A whispered fuck leaves him as you grasp him in your hand, lining him up and lowering yourself slowly down on him. "Yeah, that's it darlin'," his eyes are full of adoration as he watches you, he can't stop running his hands over you, feeling the softness of your skin and furrowing his fingers in your hair as you take him.

"Think you'd be happy enough only havin' me in your bed from now on?" Frank asks you. 

You try not to laugh, to give him the satisfaction of knowing that if every time was gonna be like this then yes, you couldn't ever ask for more.

"Think I just might get by, Castle." You smile before your mouth meets his, your hips moving fluidly as you ride him slow. His hands hold your hips, the rough pads of his thumbs stroking your skin and the combined sensations drawing a sweet moan from your throat. He can't help but join you, the thought that there might be room for a little real love in both of your lives is a welcome one.

You draw nearer your peak, your breath hushed and clipped as Frank commands your pleasure. His thumb dances over your clit, his eyes transfixed on your face as you unravel for him. Your sweet cunt pulses and flutters around his cock and he follows you into that euphoric state, spilling inside you with a freeing moan.

He holds you as you're laying on him, tangled in the sheets and each other. 

"So where we headin' to first?"

He strokes your cheek and cocks his head. "S'that a yes?"

You kiss him on the bridge of his nose. You'd miss your girls, Josie, the reverend… but this was what you'd been waiting so long for.

"Yes, I'll come with you Castle." 

.

.

Tags (if you want added or removed let me know): @divinearchangel @saintmurd0ck @castlesnchurches @mindidjarin @hellskitchenswhore @pedrito-friskito @sweetieswiftie @shedaresthedevil @freshabogados @father4giveme @stress--relief @e-dubbc11 @whistle1whistle @tea-and-wine @emiemiemiii @imherefordeanandbones @officialjanetsnakehole @munsonownsmyass @marvelswh0re @frankcastlescumslut @chellestrash @chvoswxtch @messymissy @evilbubu @lucy-sky @yanna-banana @anna-hawk

[oonajaeadira]

State of the WIP Address

Okay, y'all, I've been in a really weird place where I've been avoiding...pretty much a lot of stuff. Dunno if I have to talk to my doctor about upping my meds or what, but this is why I actually went on them--my depression manifests not in laziness, but avoiding things I need to do and things I actually WANT to do. Then I don't do them and it all starts building up. And then the to do pile feels insurmountable, like I'll never get to finish all these wonderful things. So I just...freeze up and roll over. Like a fainting goat. You'd think I'd be like "yay! lookit all the things to look forward to! I have years ahead of me full of things I really want to do! I should never be bored again!" But no. Can't do them Right Now? Fainting goat. It's weirdo. We've all got our weirdo and this is mine.

I only mention it here because I do State of the WIP Address to be accountable. Now, the weird thing is, I don't actually expect anyone to read these posts--they're boring and personal and totally for my own motivation. I just know myself and know if I put something out there, I'll feel bad if I don't do it and that should motivate me to actually do it.

But here's the thing....it doesn't work anymore. I'm no longer fulling for my own snake oil. The placebo has run out. If I know it's inconsequential, then my brain tricks me into thinking that I'm accountable to no one. And, in reality, it's true that I'm actually accountable to no one so the trick doesn't work.

Anyway. Welcome to Adira's brain where she finds her own thought patterns a fascinating psychological study and the lab results are inconclusive.

So I'mma try to twist the experiment a bit. Rather than list the things I know I can't get to right this second and feel bad about it, we're gonna let promises go and do it this way. It's not interesting to anyone but me and anyone who nerds out on process. But rather than listing the things I'm not working on, I'll talk about the ones I am, how it's going, what's in my craw about it, and maybe in my ramblings I'll clear the gears to start rolling again.

This isn't interesting to anyone but me unless you really wanna see how seriously I take my fic writing. Cringe if you want. I'm just being honest with myself. My fic isn't high art, but as with anything I create, I can't half-ass it either. It's "be satisfied with it on my terms" or bust.

STATE OF THE WIPS

I have one million projects happening, but these are the pieces I'm actively thinking about and working on at the moment.

SECRET SANTA Where it's at: I'm writing for someone I think is a wonderful person and want to do right by them, so the pressure's on. But at the same time, it's not. Because I know how accepting and lovely the person is and they gave me a lot of prompts and options and like a lot of the things I do and seem to like a lot of the types of things I like to write. I also know that this doesn't have to be over-complicated, that I can write my heart and it will please both of us. While I haven't actually opened up a doc to start, I know that it's the type of thing that if I have a little uninterrupted block of time, I can just sit down and it will flow. I won't say much about it here, but I will say that while it can 100% be read as standalone, it hits on a character/series I'm currently writing and acts as a kind of prequel, a reason for loving the reader as he does. It's something that is kind of missing in the planned series and I think this would be a nice opportunity to explore it before moving forward (and maybe helping propel that series a little) while also touching on one of the characters my giftee likes, a genre they are interested in that I hadn't considered with this character, and it will have a tone I think they'll appreciate. So while it's for them and being written with their likes in mind, I thank them, because it's also a little gift for me and my yearnings. What's stopping me: Time constraints and general anxiety.

TROPE FIC: MODERN DOM!PERO Where it's at: This one got a little sloppy and I'm working on it. I've been following @max--phillips' entries about what defines certain types of kinks and while my thoughts on dom!Pero started as true dom, they swung wrong when I started working on this, and now I'm just thinking myself back to the definition of dominant. And while I may still be missing the mark, it's helping me to think more about how I want to explore and frame this dynamic. It's also giving me a little trouble in that it's not coming out chronologically which causes me to waste time jumping around and retrofitting things. What's stopping me: I put this one on hold to start prioritizing the Secret Santa piece.

TROPE FIC: SEX POLLEN!OBERYN Where it's at: This piece is flowing chronologically. It's going to be longer than I anticipated and the first draft is about 1/3 done. I already know that after the first draft I'll have to do some shaping and I think maybe I got overwhelmed with the task I set for myself and that triggered my avoidance. I know where it's going, I'm excited for it, it will flow easily if I let it, I just have to do it! What's stopping me: I put this one on hold because I got distracted by tasty Pero thoughts. I blame @perotovar for the thots, but not the stopping. That's all on me.

TROPE FIC: ALPHA!JAVI Where it's at: I'm about 1/2 done with the first draft. Again, this one will be longer (and also more angsty) than I anticipated. I love love love where it's going though and reader and Javi's history is beautiful and sad and complex; I really love that half. I'm just now switching into the modern day section of it and have to make a few decisions about how I actually want it to go. My mind is over-complicating the story and I'm trying to wrestle it down a softer path. What's stopping me: I got distracted by the Oberyn story which is why this one's on hold and now this is all Inceptioning on itself.

GOOD. THINGS. TAKE. TIME. Where it's at: The asks are all sorted, there are only a few more sessions left before chapter 4. I just have to write it. What's stopping me: Here's the thing about PATS. If I was out for notes, I'd be pounding on this series, because it's my most popular one. But... really, I'm just here to dream up stories I like to tell. I put PATS down not consciously and not because I don't love him, but I got excited by other ideas. I want to finish it because I don't like having a bunch of unfinished projects lying around, but I also don't want that to be my #1 motivator for writing him. I want to enjoy it. I did enjoy putting the latest installment out, but I also don't feel like I'm letting anyone down if I don't hurry it, just because engagement is low. Again, I'm not here for the notes, I truly love the connection and the squeeing and sharing a yearn. We're all so busy now that it's tough to get to everything and the mutual timing is a bit off. That's okay. It's planned out, it'll get done, I just have to do it when I'm feeling it.

LEAVE OFF YOUR WANDERING: WINTER Where it's at: Finished plan. Yet to begin writing. What's stopping me: I was wrestling with this one for a bit because I had two directions it could go--soft and fluffy without much meat, or weaving all the details together and serving a story that gets rather dark, a little sad, and serves as a fix it. On one hand, I felt like I would be betraying readers by not keeping the euphoric escape. But I would also feel like I built this whole backstory that needed to manifest itself in a test for Joel and Meadowlark, as well as the fact that--other than backstories--there hasn't been any canon hardship or violence displayed. It's like I'm missing a huge chunk of who Joel and Meadowlark are. In the end, that's where the story wants to go, so I'm going there. And I have to not think about what anyone else wants, just me. Not just for selfish reasons, but I know that's when I do my best. It doesn't mean there won't still be fluff and a happy ending. It just means I have to write darkness and perhaps it will serve me better to do it in the season in which it takes place.

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for abandoning my WIP?

Hello everyone! You'll have to forgive me if this is a bit awkward... I am a writer and cosplayer, but nonfiction is really not one of my talents!

So umm... I started this project, some months ago. A real masterpiece! You see, I'm actually pretty internet-famous for my earlier works, so this time I tried something a bit more... exciting. To raise the stakes and add to the delicious drama of it all, I decided this latest project would use real people.

Aaaah, and they were absolutely perfect! I wrote up incredible backstories for them all, and I even added an artificial intelligence unit that my best friend put together for a touch of extra realism (the illusion of an audience was crucial for this project, so the AI predicted "votes" and "chat responses" based on commentary on my previous projects)! Then, finally, I wiped their memories and replaced them with my own writing, set them up in my ultimate fictional world, and watched their real, authentic decisions play out! I, and my best friend, participated in this project, but I did have to wipe her memory along with everyone else's... or else she'd remember building this virtual world machine! And that just wouldn't do.

So, well.... The first few tries were a little bothersome to work with. No matter how hard I tried to tweak their personalities and give them motives, they always ran out of time and left me having to reset! But, ah... I knew from the start that working with real dolls would have its challenges. That's where the stakes are! If I could just overcome this, it would be the best death game ever written!

So eventually, when my beloved first protagonist actually made an attempt to kill... and failed... I stepped in and finished the job. Just a little bug in the system, not a big deal. And from there, it was absolutely perfect! Death after death after death, everything lining up exactly as it should. The perfect drama, the perfect despair, exactly as it should be!

I continued to moderate from within the game, and luckily, no one even tried to kill me! Though, my self-insert was simply a boring old plain jane, so it's not exactly surprising....

There were a few tough spots... and right when I thought the project was tying itself up for a beautiful finish, one of my players somehow ended up convincing the AI to release us, and send us back to reality.

Now... everyone is quite mad at me for placing them in my incredible fictional reality. None of them are certain who they are, or which of their memories are real, and normally I would simply overwrite their memory and start over again, but... here is where I might be TA....

I believe that one of the characters I've written, as played by a very beautiful and talented person, has taken my heart. She was one of the first to be killed, but instead of anger like everyone else, she held my face and told me that her god has forgiven my sins!

Aaaah! I can't help but squee just thinking of it! How can one person be so talented, so beautiful, so charming?! The way I'm feeling, I might as well be a yuri protagonist!

So, well... now I'm reluctant to start over. This girl is technically a character of my own creation, or at least her memories are. But after so much effort, and sacrifice, and torment endured by the other 14 participants... WIBTA if I give up on my project to elope with this girl?? She wants to lead a cult in my name, which I find just sooooooo romantic and hard to turn down!! But should I instead press onwards, and continue writing my perfect story??

[submitted by @mx-shingujis based on a canon-deviant au fic idea that I will probably never get around to writing!]

[delicatefade]

(WIP Wed/Whenever) kissy kissy Dalish elves

What if I actually posted on tumblr instead of just reblogging art? I've been writing a Dragon Age fanfic with no canon characters because I am a clown. It's a love story told in three four stories between my OC Eilan Lavellan and @bluewren's OC Lex Lavellan. They are twenty years old. Here is a fluffy little love snippet. (for any familiar with my main Eilan/Solas story, this is an AU for Eilan.)

Context: Lex and Eilan have been dating in secret for 8 months. Eilan insisted on keeping it secret because she didn't want to be the center of gossip. Lex didn't care if everyone knew but went along with Eilan's secretive nature. Their cover was just blown and everyone at Clan Lavellan now knows. CW: sex implied, nudity word count: 653

Eilan was surprised by how much she enjoyed having her secret exposed. That everyone knew she and Lex belonged to each other made her feel proud, even smug. Surely she had the envy of every other young woman — who better a catch than Lex? And who would have expected him to fall for Eilan, who was pretty enough but a bit odd, a loner who lived too far in her own head and practiced strange hobbies like elven calligraphy and writing. Being recognized as a couple had its practical benefits as well. They no longer had to invent ruses to explain their absences. They could disappear together, hand in hand, in plain view of their clan. Though Lex and Eilan had never named what had grown between them, in the eyes of the others they were clearly now a committed couple. Eilan was inclined to adopt their view.

To disappear together was as far as she dared express herself in public. When they were at camp Eilan preferred not to kiss or touch unnecessarily. Lex, she suspected, would have preferred to flaunt their relationship. He had sat close to her by the fire and rested his hand on her knee. The following day he swam out to where she bathed in the shallow sea just to hold her, the two of them weightless in the water. She reciprocated with a quick kiss, a small touch or a shy embrace, enough to make sure he never felt rejected, but invariably she would cut short his sweet affections, whispering to him that someone could see. He did not seem to mind. Or if he did, he never said. It helped that they often found time to be alone together. They each had daily duties, everyone in the clan did, but Eilan had found a way to pawn off some her chores onto a much younger cousin by baiting the girl with unfair bets. “I bet that when I drop this quill it will fall upwind,” Eilan said, knowing full well she could tip the quill with a sleight of hand. “Bet you can’t blow out all these candles in a single breath,” she said after having coated two wicks in essence of wyvern’s breath so that they would burn more stubbornly. The girl was only twelve, an apprentice healer of an agreeable and shy nature. By the fourth bet Eilan suspected that the girl had caught on, but was so thoroughly enjoying Eilan’s attention that she was willing to spend the day de-stemming spindleweed in Eilan’s stead. On those days Eilan would meet Lex in the forest where it was his duty to tend to wild gardens, thought admittedly when Eilan was there he tended to little but her. “Hold on. One second. I should check on the peppers,” Lex said as he disentangled himself from Eilan and stood up from the ground. They had just made love on a patch of summer squash. Fat bright leaves clung to Eilan’s bare back as she sat up to watch Lex move, his nude body gorgeous in the dappled sunlight. He pulled free a pepper from a nearby plant and screwed up his nose at it. It was a runty thing, curled in on itself like an angry cashew, bright red and gnarled. Lex raised a bewildered brow. “…the fuck?” Eilan repressed a laugh, her whole body shaking, tears in her eyes, lips twitching as she covered her mouth. “Oh yea?” Lex grinned, trying not to laugh. “You think it’s funny?” He tossed the sad pepper behind him and dove towards her, nipping at her neck as he guided her back into the cushy leaves. She shrieked with delight. “It’s all your fault,” he teased. “You’re the… what’s that word again? The title of your play? The Saboteur.” Eilan gasped. “You remembered the title of my play!” Lex wagged his brows cockily as if to say ‘duh.’

Tagging: @monocytogenes, @crackinglamb, @about2dance, @nirikeehan, @theluckywizard, @oxygenforthewicked @melisusthewee @rosella-writes and anyone else who might want to share their WIPs!

[kokorobosoi-kitsune]

i've fallen into the ALST pit :)))

this is just a start to my lil self-indulgent fic. its a WIP and idk how i feel abt it yet, but enjoy my pain :))) (low-key a "fix-it" but super angsty still fic)

...and yes i've had CURE on blast while writing this

--- Round 1: We lost Sua

Round 2 & 3: We lost {UNNAMED}

Round 4: {REDACTED}

Round 5: {RE-} We {DAC-} lost {TED} Mizi? 

Round 6: We… lost… Ivan?

The rain pattered endlessly on the ground, causing the blood to thin and spread. The lights clicked off and the two on stage were plunged into darkness. Till was frozen on the spot, staring at the white body lying motionlessly on the ground.

Before he knew it, he’d fallen to his knees, ripping at his hair with his hands. What was that noise? It almost sounded like… oh. He was screaming. The strangled scream he was hearing reverberate in the empty room was his own. Nothing felt real in this moment.

His hands moved to shake the body in front of him, but his trembling hands could still feel the warmth of his body. His bright white outfit was a stark contrast to the red blood slowly merging into rivulet streams.

His vision flickered as his hands found purchase on the ground next to him, barely holding himself up. Choked sobs were building up in his throat, and he knew no one cared. The last person who cared about him was on the ground in front of him, riddled with bullets.

He was so ready to die in that moment, that he didn’t even register the bullets ringing out. Didn’t even question who they were shooting. Lifting his now bloodstained hands, he dragged his fingers across his neck, realizing that the hands that were wrapped around it mere moments ago would never move again.

His thoughts mindlessly drifted to the show. His performance was emotional, but he wasn’t giving it his all. With Mizi.. missing.. he didn’t care anymore. There was no one left that meant anything to him. He didn’t even think about Ivan.

Ivan.

The one who was somehow always there, always tormenting him, always.. helping him. He couldn’t fathom what Ivan’s deal was, and even now he wasn’t sure what was real or not. He felt bile rising in his throat, but he refused to yield.

There was no way right? He tried to convince himself as more blood seeped out from the wounds on his rival’s body. Without any time to catch his breath, he suddenly heard the stomping of boots. It was security.

He didn’t move from his spot as they surrounded them, guns out and facing them. Seeing that Till wasn’t making any sudden moves, they all quickly dragged him away from Ivan, hoisting his lifeless body over their shoulder.

For the first time in a long time, Till felt rage. His entire body felt like it was on fire as he opened his eyes wide, screaming at the guards. “Don’t you… Don’t you touch him!” His words were scratchy, his voice hoarse. He wasn’t sure just how long he’d been sitting there when they intervened.

Till scrambled to his feet, ready to lunge at the officer who dared to manhandle Ivan like that. He wouldn’t let it happen, not again. He watched Mizi be dragged off without a second thought, unable to help her. He wouldn’t let them take Ivan from him.

But before he had a chance to lunge, he felt a blunt object hit the back of his head with force. His vision blacked, and he fell forward. Before he lost consciousness he couldn’t be sure, but did he see Ivan’s finger twitch?

[nothing-but-paisley]

20 Questions for Fic Writers! ✨

tagged by @monstersinthecosmos and @hekateinhell thank you! 🖤

1. How many works do you have on A03? 28, all public

2. What’s your total A03 word count? 70,744

3. What fandoms do you write for? Vampire Chronicles & AMC IWTV. I also write Hannibal fic and dabble in Star Trek (need to get into some ds9 fic one of these days.) I also have a twitter account (@murdertherapy) where I give advice as Hannibal Lecter, but I've back burnered it for the time being due to The Horrors. Might make a tumblr for it one day.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos? Touching and Touched, Only a Name, That Essence Rare, Amnesiac, By Any Other Name

5. Do you respond to comments? Absolutely, they make me so happy! But I get a little self-conscious about how to respond to them since I don't know how to take compliments, so I'm always just like, thanks 🙂

But I really do cherish all of them 😭

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Gotta be Gethsemane, the fic where I did what Anne maybe ultimately wished she did and killed Daniel. This is one of my favorite pieces I've written in fandom or otherwise and it really helped me process some things.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I'm sure it's my spirk fic Touching and Touched, they are so fuckin sappy I love them.

8. Do you get hate on fics? I've been pretty lucky in that I've never gotten a mean comment on ao3 or any shade about any of my fics (that I've seen lol).

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Listen, I think that horniness is the engine of all drama. All fiction is inherently erotic. What is a Greek tragedy but a super drawn out communal orgasm?

But yes, I write smut almost exclusively lol. People are (usually) at their most vulnerable and raw during sex, and this is an incredibly powerful way to explore character dynamics as well as their inner lives, traumas, and hidden drives. I'm especially drawn to BDSM/kink in general.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? Yes! I just wrote a VC/X-Files crossover called Amanuensis in which Mulder and Scully investigate the Night Island that was tons of fun, but it's not something I make a habit of for whatever reason.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? No, but it's something I would definitely be open to!

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? Devil's Minion, Hannigram, Garashir, Spirk, Mulder/Scully. They all make me insane in unique ways! I'm also partial to Armand/Marius/Daniel--any Armand ship really! Super normal about him :)

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I WANT to finish my Knight of Swords series one day, but I'll try keep plugging away at it.

16. What are your writing strengths? Dialogue, 100%. I want everything to be a screenplay lmao. I have written multiple fics that are just text conversations, transcripts, etc.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I can be impatient when it comes to writing descriptions/actions, so a lot of that stuff is as bare bones as possible. I would like to become better at creating a sense of depth and scale and grandeur rather than just sketching things out (and writing longer fics instead of just oneshots all the time).

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? Neutral, I think it can work when used sparingly (but then I've dropped a few caro mios in my time).

19. First fandom you wrote for? Doctor Who in the ancient pre-ao3 times.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? Apart from Gethsemane, I was really happy with how By Any Other Name turned out (the fic where Armand roleplays that Daniel is Marius without his knowledge). Basically anything that's a combination of heavy angst and smut with an optional lil sliver of comfort--that's the good stuff.

tagging: @fofoqueirah and @butchybats and @desertfangs (feel free to ignore if you've done this already lol)