#iffy about posting my full fics here

[bluerose5]

A Matter of Self-Preservation

Pairing: Zevran/Astarion

Word Count: 5,257

Summary: Zevran did the unthinkable and left Astarion behind in camp.

Naturally, Astarion didn't take so kindly to the fact that he returned injured.

Read on ao3 or continue below.

...

Astarion was trying not to worry.

Fat lot of good that did him.

It was a strange sensation though, he had to admit, worrying about somebody else other than himself. Of course, he brushed off those feelings as best as he could, telling himself that he was only concerned because any harm to Zevran meant that his own protection was compromised.

Caring for his well-being was a matter of self-preservation, and that was all.

Sad to say, Astarion couldn't even convince himself at that point, but he would continue to believe the lie for as long as possible.

Zevran rarely went anywhere without him. He was a fun sort, a kindred spirit. He wasn't afraid to admit that he was a liar, a murderer, and a thief. He was skilled and a professional at that, both from his time as an assassin and from his time fighting alongside his friend, the one that he called "the Warden."

It was a point of pride for him, but he didn't try to pretend to be anything he wasn't.

Astarion liked that about him. He went where he wanted, did as he pleased.

Dare he say, Astarion almost envied him for that, but Zevran was free of his shackles now. They were at different points in their respective stories, so Astarion chose to view him as a source of inspiration, rather than one of jealousy.

Besides, they did work oh so well together.

That was, until Zevran decided to leave him behind at camp.

Astarion tried not to be petty about it, even as he huffed and pouted, but Zevran stood his ground.

Truth be told —although he loathed to admit it— Astarion believed that the reason why he didn't want to stay behind was because he actually liked Zevran’s company.

He liked spending time with him, so he was feeling a tad bit rejected, to say the least.

It certainly didn't help matters that Astarion blew it the other night with him. What should have been a fun night of passion soured in the face of Astarion's ulterior motives.

Zevran was no fool. Astarion would give him that.

He might not have caught on at first to Astarion's act, but he did catch on, and that was the end of that.

Probably what made it worse was the fact that Zevran wasn't upset about it in the slightest. No, instead, he was understanding, and they–they…

They spent the night in each other's arms.

He told Astarion about his days in Antiva, about his adventures during the Blight.

Eventually, he fell asleep —which, a sleeping elf was a sight in and of itself— and Astarion entered his trance.

They hadn't brought it up again since then.

So excuse Astarion for feeling as if he was cast aside!

While Zevran was off with the others, Gale was busy trying to drown out his pain by burying himself into the latest scrolls Zevran got him, and Lae'zel continued training when she wasn't tending to her growing collection of weapons.

Which left Astarion alone with a million thoughts running through his mind.

At first, he remained holed up in his tent, pretending to read a book to pass the time, but it wasn't long before he yearned to feel the sun's warmth on his skin again. It was a bright, beautiful day, one that he did not intend to waste.

He set out on a walk along the river to stretch his legs. Well, it became more like pacing at times, but it got the job done nonetheless.

After a while, he slowed to a stop and stared out over the water.

Willing his mind to calm, he stood there, basking in the sunlight. With his arms outstretched, he closed his eyes, lost in the moment. He stilled his mind in a way not too dissimilar from how he meditated throughout his trances, but it didn't take long before his thoughts ventured to other matters.

It was all too easy to revisit their night together in the safety of his own thoughts.

He could still feel his lips tingling from a multitude of kisses. He could still feel the heat of Zevran’s body pressed up against his.

He could still smell his blood, could still taste him on his tongue, warm yet sweet.

It was so potent, how his scent clung to the air, even now.

Wait.

Astarion's eyes shot open.

His nostrils flared as he inhaled, long and deep.

That wasn't just his memory.

He could smell that familiar, metallic tang of fresh blood.

Zevran’s fresh blood.

Astarion swallowed thickly, his mouth watering.

Without thinking, he darted back towards camp, his footsteps silent, each one as unnaturally light as the last.

The closer he got, the stronger that scent grew.

Astarion heard them talking before he saw them.

He all but materialized out of thin air so far as the others were concerned, popping up behind Karlach without so much as a warning.

His words escaped in a low, threatening hiss.

“Where is he?”

Karlach, being the first unfortunate soul he happened upon, jumped out of her skin at his sudden appearance. 

He didn't even wait for her response before rushing forward, but Karlach made sure to voice her unease.

“Fucking Hells, fangs, give me a warning next time you go creeping up behind me, yeah?” she grunted, scowling at him, which he was quick to return with a sneer of his own.

“Apologies for making you feel uncomfortable, my dear,” he deadpanned, “when you're clearly the one whose comfort takes priority right now.”

“No need to be an ass,” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest, but he paid her no mind.

He shoved past Wyll and Shadowheart to get to Zevran without delay, looking him over the instant he was within reach.

Zevran blinked owlishly at him.

In addition to the myriad of bruises he was now sporting, Zevran was covered in blood, his own blood from head to toe. If he moved too fast, there was the slightest catch in his breathing that Astarion could just barely discern. He cradled his right side when he shifted, but Astarion was able to pick up on the small wince that he tried to hide.

Astarion's head snapped towards the others at breakneck speed. He pinned them in place with a menacing glare, his eyes as black as night.

When he spoke, his lips kept twitching with every other word, itching to curl back to expose his teeth.

“What happened?” he asked, a sharp edge underlying his deceptively calm tone.

“Auntie Ethel revealed herself to be a hag,” Wyll explained, undeterred by Astarion's antics, “so we hunted her.”

He made it sound so simple.

“Auntie Ethel?” Astarion repeated. “As in that old woman that offered to cure us?”

“A tempting enough offer, I might add,” Zevran said, “until she asked for one of my eyes in exchange without elaborating on why she wanted it in the first place. I don't know much about your hags, but she reminded me too much of the Witches of the Wilds from my lands. From my experience, they tend to have more in store for you than they let on. Plus—” He shrugged, completely unbothered. “—I happen to like my eyes inside of my head. They are a pretty pair, no?”

“You have to admire his priorities. Vanity over ceremorphosis. How practical,” Shadowheart chuckled. She leaned around Astarion to smirk at him. “Very pretty indeed, Zevran.”

This time, Astarion didn't even try to refrain.

He bared his fangs at her in warning, but Shadowheart took her sweet time before backing away.

The sudden racing of her heart betrayed her, though. Try as she may to escape it, her baser instincts reacted to Astarion's close proximity with fear. Because, at the end of the day, he was still a monster, and they were still his prey.

“Thank you, my dear,” Zevran crooned. “I knew you would understand.”

Karlach, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet, decided to chime in at that point, “We also saved one of the hag’s victims. Mayrina!”

“Oh, but of course,” Astarion mocked. As he continued, he turned his attention to Zevran. His nails had sharpened into claws by then, so he took hold of Zevran's chin with the utmost care, turning it this way and that as he surveyed the damage. “It simply wouldn't be an adventure with you and the esteemed Blade of Frontiers without some grand display of heroism.”

He scoffed with a roll of his eyes, sparing them both an unimpressed glance.

“So long as the damsel in distress is saved, then all is well, right?” His lips stretched into a strained smile, his fangs poking into his bottom lip. He lowered his voice into a growl. “Nevermind the fact that our illustrious leader got hurt in the process.”

Were he capable of spewing venom, it would have been dripping from his lips. It was clear what he thought of them in that moment.

Had he been there, then this wouldn't have happened.

He would've stopped it, watched Zevran’s back better than any of them ever could.

Zevran allowed Astarion to poke and prod to his heart's content, but he could sense the tension spiking amongst those gathered.

“Hey, I'll have you know that not only did we save the damsel in distress, all heroically and what-not, but I also deceived the hag into rewarding me with a boon of great power,” Zevran told him. “Well worth a few bruises here and there, I must say. I know that I have suffered far worse for way less in the past.”

“How reassuring, my dear,” Astarion said, wrinkling his nose in disdain.

“Truly, a win-win situation for all involved. Everyone is happy.” Zevran took one look at Astarion and amended his statement. “Well, almost everyone.”

Astarion huffed.

“Excuse me for being concerned.”

“Ah, yes,” Wyll taunted, “concerned that you won't be able to indulge in your favorite late-night snack again?”

Astarion's body took a step forward of its own volition, ready to pounce at the slightest provocation.

Luckily, Zevran caught him by the wrist and reeled him back in before they could turn the camp into a bloodbath.

“Come now. No need to get so hostile,” Zevran teased, drawing him in close by the waistband of his pants. “Shadowheart dealt with the worst of my injuries.”

“So this isn't even the ‘worst of it’ then?” Astarion snapped, his eyes narrowed, body tense.

“You're welcome, by the way,” Shadowheart interrupted, “for bringing him back in one piece.” She shook her head at both of them. “What a chore that turned out to be.”

“Ha!” Zevran didn't even give Astarion a chance to retort. “What can I say but that I like to keep people on their toes? If my dearest Astarion is so worried though, perhaps he can assist me with bathing. I still have some wounds that need tending to.”

Astarion grabbed his hand the second it was offered, but he ignored the mess of blood, wrapping Zevran up in a tight embrace. With his lips pressed against Zevran’s temple, his gaze darted between the others, never settling for long.

Karlach and Wyll were quick to dismiss themselves, Shadowheart not too far behind.

“On that note, here,” she said. She all but shoved a bag at them, potions and bottles clinking around from within. “Got this out of our camp supplies. Should be enough in there to finish patching him up. Try not to need me.”

She departed then, which left Zevran with a rather clingy vampire to deal with.

Never far from his reach, Zevran grabbed a few more items from their supplies before leading Astarion towards the nearby river.

Zevran furrowed his brow at him in concern.

“Are you okay?” he asked, only once he was sure they were out of earshot from the others. “My dear, I am hardly on my deathbed here.”

With his bottom lip poked out into a pout, Astarion picked at his claws, intently focused on such a task.

“Of course I'm okay,” he answered. “Why wouldn't I be?”

“Oh, I don't know,” Zevran said, each word thick with sarcasm. “Hear me out. Maybe, just maybe, I ask because you were one step away from ripping out everyone else's throats a second ago.”

“Hmph, would've served them right.”

“Astarion,” Zevran chuckled, “I thought we agreed that you would only kill people who aren't useful to us.”

“You suggested that once, yes, but perhaps I will choose to ignore those terms.”

Placing his hands on his hips, Zevran raised a brow at him with a smirk.

“Look, I—” Astarion waved his hands around in a vague sort of gesture. Eventually, he resigned himself to the truth, releasing a weary sigh. “I just hate the thought of you getting hurt while I'm not there.”

Zevran read between the lines well enough.

“Is that what this is about?” he asked, head cocked to the side. “You're upset because I left you here in camp?”

“All I'm saying is that this wouldn't have happened if—”

“You don't know that.”

“I know well enough that, had I been there,” Astarion snapped, “then I would have had your back, and you would have had mine.” His lips curled into a sneer. “That hag wouldn't have gotten close enough to lay a finger on you, I promise you that, so excuse me for feeling as if more could have been done to protect you while I had to stay behind.”

That being said, he snatched the bag from Zevran. Rummaging through it, he grumbled as he pulled out a healing potion and shoved it against his chest. Luckily, Zevran was able to catch it before it hit the ground.

“Drink,” Astarion ordered.

“What?” Zevran asked, feigning shock. “No ‘please’?”

“Depends on if you feel confident in testing my patience right now, my dear.”

“You know what, fair enough.”

He pulled the stopper and tossed it back, downing it in no time at all.

Once he finished, he wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand, staring at Astarion with a smug grin.

“There you go,” he said. He waved the empty bottle towards him as evidence. “All finished.”

“Good,” Astarion said, his arms crossed over his chest. “Now, strip.”

“My, my,” Zevran purred, “if this is the kind of treatment I receive every time, then maybe I should get injured more often.”

“Try it, and I'll just have to punish you myself.”

“You promise?”

Astarion barked out a laugh at that.

“Oh, you are a delight, aren't you?” He waved a hand at him dismissively. “Do be a good boy and get undressed so that I can tend to your wounds as you requested.”

“And you'll stay for the bath?”

“I'll stay for the bath,” he promised. “One can never be too clean around these parts, after all.”

Yes, definitely the only reason he was sticking around.

Zevran watched him knowingly.

Nevertheless, he chimed, “Exactly! Glad we are in agreement! Now, if you don't mind—” Tossing aside his empty potion bottle, he toyed with the clasps on his armor instead. “I think that I could use your assistance, yes?” 

With a fond shake of his head, Astarion approached. Brushing aside Zevran's hands, he started to slowly undo the clasps, taking note of the areas where the leather failed him, split open viciously deep.

“Count yourself lucky, my lovely Zevran,” Astarion told him. “It's not often that I offer my services free of charge; but for you, I shall make an exception.”

“What an honor, indeed.”

They peeled away armor and fabric, layer after layer, until his chest was bared.

The instant the right side of his torso was revealed to him, Astarion sucked in a sharp breath of sympathy.

Although Shadowheart's magic did, in fact, take care of the worst of it, Zevran now had several large scars that spanned the length of his side. The skin was puckered, healed over, but the gashes were unmistakably those of claws, having raked deep through the tissue.

That wasn't even taking into account his shallow breaths.

“Hurt your ribs?”

“Won't be the first time,” Zevran grunted. “Won't be the last. In a way, I can't help but to admire that hag's ruthless spirit. She saw a weakness, and she took advantage, worsened an injury already there. A classic!”

“Yes, well, excuse me if I don't rejoice alongside you,” Astarion said.

Carefully, they stripped him of what armor remained until he stood naked before him.

Without thinking, Astarion's fingertips grazed along the raised skin that interrupted the flow of his tattoos.

When Zevran winced, Astarion started to withdraw.

“Apologies,” he mumbled, but Zevran was quick to place his hand over Astarion's, pressing it firmly against his side.

“Not to worry,” Zevran replied, breathless for a couple of reasons at that point. “A little pain won't kill me, surely.”

Astarion snorted.

Even with his approval, he took to tracing Zevran’s tattoos instead, his lips parted in awe.

Black ink followed the lines and curves of his body, as if made for him, but scars were scattered about more haphazardly, both old and new, big and small.

He was a work of art to be treasured. He was—

“Beautiful.”

Zevran looked up at him in a mixture of shock and amusement

“Heh, Astarion.” Zevran tsked at him. “Are you going soft on me, my dear?”

“Puh-lease,” Astarion teased, “I wouldn't dream of it.”

“No, of course not,” Zevran said. “Now, come here.” He tugged Astarion closer by the waistband of his pants, releasing it only to take the fabric of his shirt in hand. “May I?” At the flash of uncertainty in his eyes, Zevran’s expression gentled. “You should know by now that I would not ask anything sexual of you. I will only accept that attention which you are willing to give.” He reached out to cup Astarion's cheek, the latter leaning into his touch while Zevran’s thumb brushed along the curve of his lips. “Although, I would be lying if I said that I did not wish to experience the feeling of your skin against mine again, yet it need not lead to sex. It would be much like that night we spent together, I imagine.”

“And here I thought that you didn't want to discuss that,” Astarion muttered.

“Do you wish to discuss it?”

It was all so novel, having his wants and needs matter in such a way, but he shook his head in answer.

“Not right now, but maybe… maybe later?” He didn't know where that future talk would take them, but it felt appropriate to avoid closing any doors on the opportunity. “Right now, I think that I want what you are offering.”

“You ‘think’?” Zevran asked.

“I know,” Astarion clarified.

“Whatever you want.” Zevran took his shirt in hand again, not wasting a second more as he untucked the fabric from his pants. “Not worried about the others interrupting?”

“I think you made it clear with your whole ‘he's going to help me bathe’ remark that they might want to give us some distance for the time being,” Astarion said. “Very subtle approach, by the way.”

Zevran chuckled.

“Well, you certainly helped clear the area by making all of your angry vampire faces at them.” 

“Ha! Yes, there's that, too, I guess.”

As Zevran eased his shirt up along his chest, Astarion lifted his arms above his head to help him slide it off the rest of the way. Next came his boots, followed by his pants and his underwear.

It didn't take long before he, too, was laid bare in the golden sunlight. And while there was a familiar sense of vulnerability in the act, Zevran made him feel… safe.

Ironic, really. The assassin, of all people, making him feel safe.

However, all doubts dissipated the instant Zevran’s fingers caressed his skin.

He was careful, gentle. He kept his promise, not trying for anything more, and that alone meant the world to Astarion.

Zevran watched his hands move along the outline of his shoulders, down the length of his arms, and across the expanse of his chest. He traced nonsensical patterns into his skin that only he could see, sometimes applying enough pressure to knead any lingering tension away.

So, while Zevran was watching his hands, Astarion was watching Zevran. Every shift of his expression. How the sunlight brought out flecks of gold in brown eyes. The way blonde strands started coil into loose curls in the humidity.

All Astarion wanted was to get closer.

Without warning, he wrapped his arms around Zevran’s waist and reeled him in until their bodies were pressed flush against each other.

Zevran stared up into blood red eyes, and they stared back, intent yet —dare he say— frightened.

Frightened of how close they were, not just physically, in that moment.

“I—” Astarion trailed off. I'm glad you're okay.

Words that remained unspoken, but Zevran heard them, loud and clear.

He nodded in understanding.

“I know,” he whispered. He wrapped his arms around him in a snug embrace. “I'm here.”

“Yes, you are.”

But how long would that last? Would death claim him on their journey? Would he one day hope to return to this Thedas of his?

Rather than entertain those thoughts, Astarion rested his forehead upon his. Their noses brushed, lips only a hair’s width away.

Their breathing mingled until, abruptly, Astarion's stopped. The rise and fall of his chest against Zevran’s ceased. 

For a split second, a spike of panic shot through Zevran, but he reminded himself just as quickly that this was a normal occurrence for Astarion.

Ah, the quirks of being undead.

Egotistical as it was, Zevran soothed his worries with the simple reasoning that he quite literally took his vampire's breath away.

Astarion nuzzled closer. His lips brushed along the outline of his cheek.

“Gods, you're so warm,” he praised, pressing a kiss underneath Zevran’s ear.

As he pulled away, Zev shivered in delight, instinctively pressing closer against him, his hands spread out upon his back.

Before he could catch himself, his fingertips started to follow the lines of Astarion's scars.

At first, Astarion tensed at the unexpected touch, eventually relaxing enough for him to continue.

Usually, Zevran wasn't one to intrude, but he had to know.

“Have you ever seen—”

“No.” That lone word rang with a note of finality, one that told Zevran to drop it, to not push his luck.

Then again, when did Zevran ever do what others expected of him?

“Do you want to?”

Before Astarion could question him further, he felt his tadpole start to squirm as Zevran’s reached out to it, telepathic energy resonating between them.

“I can use our tadpoles’ connection, if you'd like,” he offered, but Astarion was already shaking his head.

“I appreciate the thought, but not—” He swallowed thickly. “Not yet. This time alone is for us, not my past.”

“Understandable,” yet Astarion didn't feel him withdraw in the slightest. Instead, Zevran offered an alternative. “How about this then? I can show you, well, you.”

Astarion blinked owlishly at that, but Zevran merely smiled at him, patiently awaiting his response.

“You want to…?”

“Show you how you look!” Zevran exclaimed. Their tadpoles wiggled at the sudden burst of excitement. “You said that you don't remember your face, correct? Well, let me show you. It would be an absolute crime not to catch even a glimpse of an elf as handsome as you.”

Even as a wave of emotion threatened to overwhelm him, Astarion couldn't help but to laugh at the flattery.

“Oh, you and your shallow praise.” Nevertheless, Astarion couldn't look away from him, wide-eyed with disbelief. He spoke at a much softer level, his lips spread into an eager grin. “You'll truly do this for me?”

“Why wouldn't I?” Zevran countered, bumping his nose against Astarion's. “Would you not do the same for me, were I in your shoes, so to speak?”

Honestly, Astarion didn't know how to respond to that.

“You know what, on second thought, don't answer,” Zevran said, the silence deafening. “Let me live in the fantasy for a little while longer. In answer to your question, however, yes. I will do this for you, my dear.”

Astarion opened his mouth and closed it, at a loss for words.

All he could manage was a simple, “Thank you.”

Nowhere near enough to convey what he was feeling, but Zevran didn't mind in the slightest, brushing off such sentiment.

“Trust me, it's no problem at all,” he said.

Both of them took a moment to prepare themselves.

Their eyes slid closed, they steadied their breathing, and then Zevran’s tadpole reached out to Astarion's once more. The threads of their minds started to fuse together until they formed a bridge between the two.

Their thoughts, their senses, their emotions.

All of it was shared through their connection, waves of psionic energy pulsating in tune with each other.

There was a single beat before Zevran opened his eyes, and Astarion saw the world as he did.

A split second past where he had to adjust to the sun's blinding light, the blurred edges of a face slowly but surely smoothing out to take shape. What was only an instant stretched on into an eternity as Astarion waited with bated breath, time seemingly drawn out the more impatient he grew.

He kept his eyes shut, his breath held, to focus only on the inevitable reveal.

Thankfully, he didn't have to wait much longer.

Golden rays faded into the background.

A headful of silver curls was the first thing he saw.

After that, there was the arch of his eyebrows in matching grey tones, followed by dark shadows that laid beneath his eyes, stark against pale skin.

There was so much to take in.

Everything from the slope of his nose to the angle of his jaw to the curve of his lips captivated him.

He was all but enthralled by the time Zevran’s hands entered into view.

His touch was so light, so adoring, far beyond what he deserved.

Zevran smoothed out the furrow in Astarion's brow, soon brushing errant curls back behind pointed ears. He traced along his jawline, down to his neck, where he pressed the pads of his fingers against his bite marks.

Astarion swallowed, fixated on the sight.

“There you are,” he mumbled, right before he opened bright red eyes. The resulting sensation was rather disorienting, seeing through both his eyes and another's at the same time. “There I am.”

He released a small laugh of disbelief.

“It's been so long…”

And while Astarion would happily sit there all day, memorizing every last detail, he knew that all good things must eventually come to an end.

Before he could get too caught up in the moment, he mentally withdrew, severing their tadpoles’ bond.

“I can't thank you enough,” he told him. “I—” He averted his gaze and cleared his throat, unexpectedly bashful. “I'm supposed to be the one taking care of you right now.”

“Well, by all means,” Zevran hummed, “don't let me stop you.”

Flashing him a rare, genuine smile, Astarion left Zevran with another healing potion, retrieving a nearby bucket as he made his way towards the river. Once the bucket was full, he returned to Zevran's side. There, he dug through their supply pack and tossed a couple of sponges and soap bars into the water.

As soon as the sponge made contact with his skin, Zevran jumped out of reach.

“Easy!” he yelped, staring at Astarion as if he had committed some sort of grave crime. “That's cold! Surely you can heat it up with a spell, yes?”

“What?” Astarion teased. “Can't stand a little chill, can we?”

Not that Astarion had much room to talk, but that didn't stop him from joking at Zevran’s expense.

“No, and I am not ashamed to admit it,” Zevran said. “Now, please, have mercy on me, good ser.”

“Oh, alright,” Astarion sighed, “but only since you said ‘please.’”

With a wave of his hand and a simple incantation, the water warmed at his command. He even went through the effort of soaking the sponge again, working the soap into a lather.

“What a kind soul you are,” Zevran commended. “A true gentleman, if there ever was one.”

“Mm-hmm…”

Taking Zevran by the hand, Astarion pulled him close. He started with his face first, washing away flecks of blood as he scrubbed his way along Zevran's body.

The potions worked their magic in the meantime. Right before his very eyes, Astarion watched scratches heal and bruises disappear.

By the time he was wrapping up, Zevran reached down and plucked the spare sponge out of the bucket. He took to returning the favor, washing Astarion off, bit by bit.

Radiant sunlight warmed their bodies.

Droplets of water clung to their skin.

It wasn't long before they set to work on washing each other's hair, lost in the sensation of fingers tangled within the strands, nails lightly scraping against their scalps.

Both were left with their hair in a disarray —a mixture of soft, frizzy, and fluffy.

After they were done bathing, Astarion took the time to apply a salve to Zevran's latest scars. Not only was it supposed to relieve any pain at the site itself, but it also numbed the surrounding area as well.

With those matters settled, they left their mess behind them —a problem to deal with later— as they snuck their way back into camp.

Fortunately, nobody crossed paths with them on the way, and they were able to enter Astarion's tent, undetected.

Maneuvering around the empty jars of blood, Zevran proved quick enough to steal Astarion's spare shirt before he could reach it. He slipped it on without hesitation, the loose, white fabric falling right below the curve of his ass.

The ruffles along the neckline framed his chest, the laces left mostly undone, highlighting the length of his neck.

Astarion stared, captivated by the sight of him.

Especially by the sight of Zevran in his clothing.

Zevran made room upon the bedroll, an addition to Astarion's tent that he insisted upon, and spread himself out on it with a knowing smirk. Blonde hair framed his head like a halo, Zevran crooking a finger at Astarion to beckon him forward.

In the blink of an eye, he hovered over him, Astarion stealing a brief, albeit passionate kiss.

Their lips parted.

Zevran searched his gaze and asked in a small, quiet voice, “Will you hold me? Like you did that night?”

Astarion brushed stray hairs out of his face, then gave him another peck.

When he was with him, he didn't feel the need to don his mask as often.

Even so, he scoffed and rolled his eyes, sparing Zev an affectionate smile.

“How could I say no?”

It took a bit of adjusting on their part, but Astarion eventually settled in behind Zevran, wrapping his arms around him.

“Hmm…” Zevran snuggled deeper into his embrace. “Who would have guessed that the big, bad vampire would take such good care of me?”

Burying his face into the crook of his neck, Astarion pressed a kiss above where Zevran's pulse beat strongest.

“Don't mention it,” he said. After all, he had a reputation to uphold.

In response, Zevran lined up their fingers before tangling them together.

“Whatever you say, my love.”

[anchoredarchangel]

Thanks for the tag @anincompletelist ! I’ve never played this one before 💫🤍

Rules: Post your favourite line or passage from as many of your published works as you’d like. Let yourself feel proud of your creations! Tag as many people as you post snippets, so your fellow fic friends can be proud, too.

beneath the cut because I’m wordy as hell oops.

From No Consequences:

If Alex revisits the metaphor about his brain at the best of times, this is the moment where the toddler holding the flipbook exchanges their sugar addiction for straight cocaine. The good stuff. High quality. This is Alex’s brain on drugs.

From Hope is a Five-Alarm Fire:

Alex stares at him without blinking the way other people probably look at renaissance art: like magnificence beyond the scope of words, a pinnacle of creation, something meant to be kept pristine, locked away from the ruining touch of the masses. Except he’s putting his filthy fucking hands all over it, leaving smudging fingerprints behind. And the art likes it. 

From The Cosmos in His Palms:

Alex thinks about Henry, about pulling the stars from the sky just to tuck them carefully in Henry's chest beside his heart to keep him company, so he'd never have to look for them again; about what Alex would be willing to do to put the cosmos in his palms.  He’d do the impossible. He’d defy the gods that put them there. 

From The Throne He Deserves:

Who kisses Alex like he’s the water in the desert and he doesn’t care if it’s a mirage so long as he doesn’t die in pain, and who fucks him like it might be worth the pain of dying just to do it again and again. 

From The Wait Before the Fall:

“This is not all that I am,” Henry tells him, turning back to the statue, something tumultuous in him settling, going just as still as the museum air. “Not anymore.” He looks up, that beautiful, defiant tilt to his chin; not to the man being crushed, but at the plaster of the woman—head draped in a lion’s skin, club in hand, kneeling on the shield in victory. Valour and Cowardice: Valour.

From A Spark and Flash Paper:

In a rare moment of courage, he does the latter. He chooses himself. No bloody consequences.

From A Sin Better Than Heaven:

“Imagine how I will feel to your cock,” he says boldly, and Alexander meets his eyes; the brown all but eclipsed by a full moon of darkness.  “I will not,” he murmurs, “because I intend to know with certainty.”

From The Very Portrait of Temptation:

Alexander’s mouth slows, a kiss longer and deeper and felt in every nook of him—the king's tongue sliding expertly past Henry's teeth, like a dagger through the widening crack in what remains of Henry's armor. This—it is everything, and everything that it is is enough to drive men to madness beyond the point of hysteria, enough to lose what remains of his wits, enough to foolishly hope for an unlikely change of fate. One where he is not a deceitful seducer, but rather a trusted confidante. One where he is even, perhaps, an actual lover, true as North.  A beautiful agony, most mad indeed. 

my tumbling has been iffy lately and I’m not sure who has already played—so if you see this and you haven’t posted one yet, here’s an open tag from me to you 💌

but also @firenati0n when you’re back I want to see!

[mediumgayitalian]

I know I’ve been liking all your works on here but I just have to say I LOVE ALL OF THEM SO MUCH <333 they’re just so silly and goofy /pos

Out of curiosity, have you done your take on the “3 days in the infirmary” yet? And if not, do you ever plan to?

THANKS!

thank you teehee silly and goofy is my specialty. and thank you SO MUCH for asking bc the thing is that i’ve been trying?? like i have three drafts barely started right now and i can’t tell which one, if any, are promising. would y’all mind telling me (honestly, i promise i can handle criticism when i ask for it) might be something you would read, and if not, what you like/dislike? thank you in advance!! and they’re rough drafts so please forgive any poor formatting or grammar/spelling. words like /this/ mean they’re italicized btw.

okay, the first one. the idea here is less three days in the infirmary and more pining nico post the three days in the infirmary, but he keeps thinking back to it. here is one such moment:

please let me know what works/doesnt et cetera!!!

okay next one. this one is more classic, it’s literally the three days in the infirmary except whoops nico was exhausted as shit and slept through them entirely and now will is making him stay another three for observation. and they fall in love obviously. featuring in william-andrew-never-shuts-up-for-even-three-seconds solace bc i love him.

i think this one is the most promising tbh but i could be wrong. mostly i just love motormouth will. lmk what u think!!

okay and the last and possibly most iffy one. this one is actually the thing that yanked me full force back into this fandom, creatively, bc the idea wormed itself into my brain and i couldn’t get it out.

i haven’t worked on it in like a month and a half bc i’m nervous people will despise it, but the general idea is that nico gets to the infirmary and will has an open crush on him, like he doesn’t say it but even nico is not that oblivious, and nico has to face, for the first time, someone who is not even slightly ashamed about their sexuality. it’s less of a solangelo fic and more of a nico fic tbh.

i ditched it bc i don’t think anyone will read it, but if you would, tell me please! i’m an attention whore and very motivated when i know i’m getting attention lol.

anyways! please tell me your thoughts! reblog or comments are great, but if you’re shy my anon asks are open :D my DMs too!!!

[nerdyvocals]

9 People to Know Better (except I'm not tagging 9 people)

I don't normally do tag games, but I got tagged in this twice (by @jealous-kippen and @remmixx, my beloveds <3) so here I am! (also as I'm writing this out I am realizing that while both posts were titled the same way, it looks like they had different question prompts??? So I'm just gonna combine the two)

Favorite Color: Purple! Any shade will have my heart but I am partial to more red-toned purples. (PV, if that means anything to anyone who sees this other than me, you know who you are)

Currently Reading: Three things! In terms of actual books, I've been slowly making my way through the Riordanverse since my university did The Lightning Thief in my second year (first school in my state to do it once the rights were released!) since I somehow never got into Percy Jackson as a kid, and I'm currently on Son of Neptune. I'm also one like my third or fourth re-read of Eurydice by Sara Ruhl, since that's the play I'm designing the costumes for for my senior project. And in terms of fanfic, I woke up to a notification about this yesterday and Actually Screeched.

Last Song: Dial Drunk by Noah Kahan (ft. Post Malone), which was a bit of an accident. I use siri to request music while I'm driving and I asked for Dial Drunk and was singing along until I got jumpscared by the slight difference before Post Malone's verse. Although if you look at my spotify, the ROTPL album has been on repeat for weeks.

Currently Watching (Series): I've been hyperfixated on ROTPL and have watched it over a dozen times at this point, which is probably not healthy, so I put on NCIS last night for background noise while I ate dinner and accidentally watched like six episodes.

Currently Watching (Movie): Saw the Barbie movie the night before the actual opening with my coworkers (We don't cross picket lines people! I was not asked nor invited by any company, and I paid full price for my ticket. There's a one-screen theatre in the town where I'm doing summer stock, this relic from the 50's, and they were able to get access to the film a day early and did a special first come first serve premiere.) and we all sobbed the entire way through.

Current Obsession: Rise of the Pink Ladies. Full stop. I'd seen clips of it when it first aired in April but I was iffy on it in spite of how good it looked. Like most, I'm a little tired of reboots and remakes, and while I did clock Cynthia as being queer within two seconds, (I believe my exact words were "That's either a very butch lesbian or the eggiest egg to ever egg.") I was Convinced it was a queerbait situation. Plus I was nearing finals and didn't have time to get into a new show. But then Crushing Me was trending on tiktok and I realized this was not queerbait, so I put it on to have something playing while I packed for summer stock and it's been the only thing I can think about since mid May. It got me writing fanfic again for the first time in years, if that tells you anything. Speaking of,

Currently Working On: A follow-up to my previous fic, Steady, Steady! I wanted to have it up this week, but it is a behemoth. I'm a little over halfway through my plot outline and I'm at 10,441 words. Fun fact, this will be my longest single-chapter fic so far. Not just in the fandom, not just on AO3, but ever (so far!)

No-Pressure Tagging: @merely-a-player, @penguin-writes-books, @el-fandom-birb, @marley-barnes112, @isweartheyregayyourhonor, and @look-at-those-niceass-rocks (since I've already dragged you back to tumblr kicking and screaming)

[fohatic]

48-hours shy of six months to the day, tumblr has restored my blog to full functionality (no longer classifying it as "explicit") after a lengthy stint in horny jail.

what does this mean? my blog is now searchable, my posts are no longer hidden under tags, my posts can be linked, i get to have a damn icon + customizable blog page... but perhaps most exciting of all:

I NOW HAVE A WORKING ARCHIVE AGAIN, which means that you can also browse my tags! 🙏 i've just updated my featured tags, so these are easily navigable from my archive (see "tag" pull-down menu at the top). feel free to explore these! highlights include:

my fanfic -> all my fic posts/posts that feature my fics

my edit (see also: manip) -> my manip fanart or contributions to others' posts ("manip" also includes other people's manips, FYI)

fic rec -> fics that i recommend/others recommend that i co-rec

stony -> a big mishmash of fun! (see also: tony stark + steve rogers)

stevecore/tonycore/stonycore -> posts that remind me of them ♥

rdj -> (so much pretty) + chris evans -> (♥)

gorgeous fanart -> the tag i collect a ton of fanart under

yes good -> posts that really "get it" (mostly stony stuff)

writing + fanfiction -> meta stuff!

fave -> the best stuff!

about me -> a gratuitous excess of TMI about yours truly! (in tags)

*IMPORTANT: if you do not want to see potentially nsfw adult content from me, please block the following tags:

nsfk -> "not safe for kids" stuff that's iffy (general safety warning)

porny tag -> stuff that's basically porn

(note that i don't tag stuff "nsfw" bc this can negatively impact the op's account or post visibility; tumblr police are all over this tag)

(gifs via x)

it's been awhile, but it's finally time* to turn up the temperature around here again... 🔥😈

[protip: if you enter the full title of any of my fics in a tag search, you'll likely find some thematically relevant goodness 👌😏]

as always, i'm thrilled whenever anyone goes through and likes/reblogs a bunch of stuff from me -- don't be shy! i'm also open to pretty much any kind of ask (sometimes i don't participate in the chain stuff but it's nothing personal).

one thing i'll ask is that if you do find anything you like on my blog, consider reblogging it from me instead of directly from the op? as a seasoned "blog diver" (🤿🦪💎) who sometimes spends many hours of my actual life scouring the internet for certain posts (which often haven't seen any action in years), i really appreciate when i see even a little spike in my activity feed from these before they start getting circulated again <333

also, i plan to keep using @moon-language-0 as a place to store all my original fanart and fanfic posts for easy access. it's very convenient :)

[the-s1lly-corner]

Attention TADC fans!

I'm officially opening requests for characters! Below the cut will be my base list of rules in regards to requesting and that sort of thing!

To everyone who followed me for creepypasta, do not fret! Creepypasta is still this blogs default and I'm not going to stop writing it for the forseeable future, I will still be responding to creepypasta based asked in the meantime

oh also, im adding this right before i post this but i do have fluff alphabet requests open for creepypasta, but to my TADC fans, how do you guys feel about the possibility of me reposting that list and letting you guys ask for it? im still kinda itching to do alphabet stuff... let me know ! ill probably do it anyways but i want yalls input!

without further delay:

RULES:

please do not spam requests, i know it will be hard to enforce this on my end since i want to keep anon enabled since i know it can be intimidating to ask for stuff non-anonymously

since the main cast + caine only totals to 7 characters i will allow people to request the entire cast in any given request, WITH THE KNOWLEDGE that the more characters the shorter their list of hcs will be

please do not pester me to answer your request, i will very likely answer your initial ask. consistent breaking of this boundary will result in warning, and if further boundary breaking takes place, the request will be terminated

^SHOULD NOTE! sometimes tumblr eats the requests you guys send in so simply asking if your request made it through is 100% totally fine!! I'm specifically talking about people who try to pressure me to answer sooner, I want to make that clear because I do not want to discourage anyone from reaching out about that sort of thing

Reader is GN by default, you can request a specific gender but know it likely wont be important due to my writing style

WILL WRITE:

SFW, angst, comfort, hcs, short imagines and scenarios!

As mentioned I will do all characters, asides Bubble since I don't think there's much that can be done for them

Poly, LGBT, readers with disabilities and/or disorders (will let it be known here that i am in no way well versed in every disability/disorder, however i will attempt to do basic research for the request)

I am also comfortable with writing platonic requests and found family dynamics! I am not limiting myself and you guys to romantic stuff!

reader abstracting, while this may seem contradictory to some of the things in my will not write segment I have written about grief and loss before and I don't think it fully fits the category of what I won't write + death in general, so it shall get a pass

really there isnt much i will turn down that comes to mind, if something is breaching a line or making me uncomfortable i will let you know

reader inserts, ocs, and the like are all welcome here! im not too confident with oc x character stuff due to the simple fact that i fear i may interpret your oc wrong but i am still willing to try!

WILL NOT WRITE:

general problematic stuff is an immediate no

^so like, straight up abuse and abuse adjacent topics since as far as Im aware all the characters in TADC are adults (if I have that wrong please please correct me!!)

i am also iffy on yandere requests, this one is more on a case by case basis so please be sure to specify the intensity of it, since that will really be a make or break for whether or not if the request is accepted

NSFW, this blog is for the most part SFW. I occasionally vague certain aspects, however nothing is ever explicit. That's how far I'm willing to go with these things and I want to keep it that way

Full fledged fanfics; a lot of my scenarios/imagines tend to border on that just on a much shorter scale and in a slightly different format, but I am not totally confident in my ability to write proper fics :(

no graphic depictions of gore or self harm, and i ask that you keep that out of my inbox in general. topics like SH are allowed, however covering requests for the act of it as its happening is an automatic no (IE if you ask me to walk in on a character walking in during an act of self harm), the same applies to suicide

ADDITIONAL NOTES:

i have a nasty habit of not proofreading my stuff, so grammar and spelling mistakes are bound to happen unfortunately. this tends to be a worse issue when im posting on mobile (which i am doing less and less since i like typing on a keyboard more)

^ on top of that i struggle with writing, english is my first language but i have a hard time getting stuff out right on top of having dyslexia so please be patient

i typically tend to respond to requests fairly fast, typically within a day or two, though i do have some periods where it may take longer. (possible) same day delivery YAHOO!!

back to a forewarning, i have a habit of rambling and adding additional ideas and concepts into a request though for the most part i think i remain on topic (that just means you get a little extra content for your request ueueue)

[khepiari]

Why Kuina’s Death Still Unsettles Us?

TW: mention of suicide, references teen/child suicide.

[I read a post about "falling down the stairs" might actually imply death by suicide. Kuina's death always bothered me a bit, and when Shimotsuki Koushiro said to Zoro, humans are fragile, did he really mean our bodies or our hearts? I still wonder. A few months back I had written a fic, a retelling of the events which led to Kuina's fall from the stairs, and I had done a lot of thinking while writing the fic. So all those ideas and thoughts I had then, have been rearranged and put here today.]

I remember watching the Kuina episode like 19 years back. So for an 11-year-old me, that was it. I was sad that she was gone too soon.

But over the years as I grew up, read the manga and then kept rereading it over and over. I did feel her death was surprisingly given the off-stage treatment that was given to Lady Macbeth! Only an announcement was made of her death, and her face is covered in a piece of cloth! That was too sudden, unlike so many other deaths that followed in the story.

I did brainstorm this over the years, it really felt odd, she was a physically strong 12-year-old girl and as far as I know swordswoman/man have to be good at balancing and footwork, because the art of the sword is about full body movement so her falling down is really really really iffy.

Image from chapter 5

And if we look at the Dojo architecture, there were no visible storeys to the building, I am sure she didn’t fall off a library step-stool or carpenter’s ladder. Then I found this Tumblr post, by Heeheemugee which said, falling down the stairs is a euphemism for suicide. Which makes sense! Like it totally connects in my head.

Though, sadly, I didn’t find any source to confirm this, as everyone on the internet told me it's untrue. But, you see, “falling down the stairs” is a euphemism which has been used for domestic violence victims, like in my mother tongue, when it's hard to explain to a child what happened to someone who died, we say the person has gone somewhere far, so may be falling down the stairs is more of an undocumented euphemism or an old reference Odachii picked from somewhere— he is known for this!

Image from chapter 5

Another thing we should remember Kuina was onset of puberty, the stress of future, her father’s general view of female body being weaker, and changing bodily features might have plagued her more than we think— since after 1000 chapters we know Zoro’s teacher is likely from Wano, I think internalized and cultural misogyny was at play too.

Teenage and puberty is a vulnerable time, one misstep can lead to drastic actions, so Kuina taking her own life is not farfetched. Because we have young children who are so stressed or vulnerable or suffering that they think ending it is better than enduring it.

Image from chapter 5

What has bothered me the most, is the offstage treatment of her death. I mean—we have seen most of the “characters whose death impacted the main characters' life decisions” die on stage in backstories so far, or we got a proper explanation of why someone is dead. We know Banchina died after an illness, Bellemere was killed by Arlong, Hililuk was poisoned and blew himself up. Only Kuina’s death we didn’t see, and it immediately happened just after both Zoro and Kuina had a heartfelt conversation about becoming the best swordsman/woman in the world!

I guess Oda chose “fell down the stairs” as the series was like 15 chapters till then. Or it maybe as simple as Odachii wanted to wrap Zoro’s backstory fast with typical “dead girl-friend of the grumpy emotionally suppressed lone wolf” to establish Zoro’s narrative as the one who carries the will of others!

Image from chapter 5

Otherwise, we know Eiichiro Oda doesn’t shy away from depicting gruesome, terrifying or horrible deaths which parallels real life issues, he sneaked in a little panel of a grandmother praying and a mother holding a knife with an infant in her arms in Wano arc, because they were starving for days!

Image from chapter 918

Or a pirate in human auction house biting his tongue to escape the humiliation of being sold as a slave!

Images from chapter 502

Hence, I think Kuina’s death doesn’t seem like an accident and feel like something sadder and heavier than we were led to believe.

[rejaytionships]

🌺 about me! 🌺

[last updated 2024/08/05]

hi! i'm austin (+ some others), i'm 23, and i use they/them + le/lim + ve/ver pronouns

my main blog is @linneastarron and i'll interact from there

i've been selfshipping since i was like... 6? but i didn't make a selfship blog until early 2022, so howdy!

i've got sooo many f/os and they tend to fluctuate in level of severity, but my overall main romantic f/os are

bill (pokemon) - married since 2024/08/30

boba fett (star wars); also polyshipped with sintas vel and fennec shand

kanan jarrus + hera syndulla (star wars)

emmet (pokemon)

albert wesker (resident evil); also polyshipped with excella gionne

bubba sawyer (texas chain saw massacre, 1974)

tim wright (marble hornets)

father (kids next door)

professor membrane (invader zim)

bill is the only f/o i'm iffy on sharing, but if you have a tag i can block on my worse days then idc LOL also i tend to mirror sharing so if you like to share then i really like sharing too :3 and that tends to override any possessiveness i'd potentially have

i don't explicitly forbid minors from following/interacting (and i'll probably follow back) but i probably won't talk much in dms unless you're 18+ sorry! this is mainly for my own comfort

here are some important links!

my full f/o list (including [queer]platonic and familial selfships)

my selfship tags

my selfship fics

my posts

recommended selfship artists

my comm info

i hope i can meet some cool new people in the community! ^^

[feathered-serpents]

So

There is an outline for the actual story of Imagining Egypt in progress in my drive. Mostly for me, but I am considering posting it publicly, here are my major reservations about posting it publicly though

- It’s going to take a very long time to completely plot out and I’m almost certain no one will read it

- It’s going to be really long full stop. Thousands of words. I don’t know where to put it. In a tumblr post under a read more seems guaranteed to never be read but I can’t post an outline on Ao3 as that’s against the few rules over there

- I do not actually have every single plot point figured out yet. While I would almost certainly smooth some out writing the outline, some I would not. There were almost certainly be plot points that are followed by a “I don’t actually know how this happens yet” note from me which feels lazy but also posting just an outline is pretty lazy on its own

I am not going to write it as an actual fic simply because I don’t want to, but I am willing to write an outline because I think it will be fun. Sharing it publicly I’m a little iffy on but it would be nice to have and be able to point someone to it if they were curious. I’m just not sure anyone would want to read it

So this is my interest check. Should I post this outline once it’s done even with the above caveats? Honestly, I think if I got 5 likes and two comments I’d be happy but we’ll see

[peachdues]

hi! i wanted to ask if you know when the next part of “The Wind and His Moon” is gonna come out?

Short answer: not for a very long time, if at all.

I’m still debating over what I want to do with TWAHM. On the one hand, I have most of the story planned out (v rough outline lmao) but on the other hand, I’m hesitant to pick it back up. It would be a multi-parter for sure (like a full blown fic), and, because of what i have planned, it would require a lot of detail/time/energy that I simply don’t have at the moment.

That said, I could foresee myself working on it bit by bit — which is why, if I do decide to keep going with it would be a very slow releasing fic (like, much slower than anything you’ve seen from me — maybe an update every few months or longer).

Also, I’m still struggling over whether to keep it a reader insert, given how detailed it is and how complex the plot line is. I played around with the idea of making Kanae the MC, but lunar breathing is kind of critical to the plot (spoiler: MC really struggles with her control over it and it causes PROBLEMS). So that doesn’t seem to work, but I know people can be iffy about reading works with non-canon OCs. So I’m kinda stuck on it right now lol.

Thank you for being interested in it! Even if I don’t ever finish it, it will always hold a special place in my heart, considering it was the very first piece of demon slayer writing I posted here!

[findmeinthespacebetween]

About / FAQ

Hi!  I don't know if you already know me from one of my other blogs, but hi, welcome to the party!

My name is Maddie/M (they/them). I’ve been a descendants fan since the first movie and after spending several years obsessing over it with my best friend, building headcanons and creating ocs and brainstorming fic ideas, I finally decided to brave the bigger world of the descendants fandom!  I’m also a long time oc blog where I’ve been posting about descendants ocs for several years now, so while this is not an oc exclusive blog, I will be posting about my ocs here as well as about the general descendants universe!

Fair warning, it been a while since I read the books, I love the movies but they don’t always make the most sense, and I don’t consider Rise Of Red as canon.  I mostly stick to relative-canon and just expand upon what we’re given, but there are a few things that I throw out and other headcanons that I just generally have that will show up throughout everything I come up with!  You totally don’t have to agree with my ideas and I’m always happy to chat or hear about other perspectives, but I know that I stray from canon and I’m not going to stop doing that!

This blog will be run in equal parts by queue and by just posting things when I feel like it – if I can think of a fun queue tag to make it easier to tell those apart then I will tag accordingly, but so far no such tag exists so please be patient if I’m not immediately responsive, I might not be online, I might have gotten busy, or I might have just totally spaced out, please give me a couple of hours to a day before thinking I’m ignoring you!

Here some important things!

OCs

I have a desktop masterlist right here, and then mobile friendly ones here ( a-k ) and here ( l-z )!  Unless otherwise stated, my ocs all exist within their own bubbles and don’t overlap unless I pull one of them into another verse just as background/filler characters!

Fancast List

I stick to the canon casting from the first 3 movies but for book characters and parents, I’ve spent a long time creating my perfect fancast.  My fancy desktop cast list is here, my mobile friendly cast lists are here (the kids) and here (the adults)!

Crossovers etc

I can be a bit iffy about descendants crossovers just because of my extensive non-canon worldbuilding, but I’m always happy to chat!  Please don’t use my ocs without permission (there are some that I’m cool with being thrown in as background characters for fic filler and others that I’m really not), I’m open to general crossover chats, and I’m tentatively open to rp ( I have an rp blog as well but it isn’t descendants exclusive/specific )

Can I find you anywhere else?

Yes!  Within Tumblr I have my main blog ( @randomestfandoms ), my oc blog ( @randomestfandoms-ocs ), and my rp blog ( @randomestroleplays) where I also sometimes talk about descendants stuff!  Outside of Tumblr, I’m also on ffnet, ao3, Wattpad, and YouTube, all under the name randomestfandoms

Key tags

I do have a full navigation page here, but as a quick overview!  I tag all of my ocs as oc: [ first name ] and canon characters as canon: [ first name ] ( exceptions being Davy Jones, Evil Queen, Jane darling, and characters who only have one name or a title and name, in which case I just use that name )

I also have tags for edits ( and specific tags for art, gifs, graphics, videos, and writing ), fancasting, headcanons, ocs, personal, shipping, world building ( and auradon & isle specific world building ), and miscellaneous nonsense!

( yes they are all unnecessarily long but they are also all descendants quotes so I’m okay with that )

Fanon

So I’m not going to shit on Fanon, sometimes I absolutely love fanon and I love how passionate the descendants fandom in particular is, especially over characters that have barely any content!  However I spent years developing my personal descendants hcs and ocs in a void with my friend before I even started talking about my descendants ocs on that blog, and even longer before I even tried getting involved in the bigger fandom, and this is part of why!  I fully support everyone’s rights to their own headcanons and I don’t necessarily think that mine are objectively superior, but I’m also not going to change my own take on this universe!  Like I said with canon, I’m always happy to chat and hear about other perspectives and ideas, but I’m going to keep doing my own thing!

I also pull from other Disney franchises that aren’t part of the descendants universe, and I veer on and off from which live action movies I adopt into my canon!

It’s been a long time since I’ve made an about/faq type of post so if you think I should include anything else, please lmk!

[ao3feed-piltovers-finest]

This page posts automatically, the fic summary and tags AS originally posted on A03, right? So if say, the tag that changes the content drastically [and deceives you into investing self in something that you definitely wouldn’t have otherwise, but that choice was denied to you?] is added some eight chapters later, then this page could easily PROVE the deception? Also if the author doesn’t respond kindly to your well intended note about it, the one politely asking them not to do that again, and instead basically gaslights you [while only positive comments get published, those that praise the sudden "plot twist", since it's a popular author and only ass-kissing is allowed?] what can one do? Can you retract your apparently prematurely given kudos? Basically, what’s your position on promoting and encouraging [since it’s someone whose work you personally rec’d before] douchebag authors like that?

Ooo-kay, that's rather specific and kind of...

...I'd love to be able to say - unusual, but sadly it isn't. I thought I'd seen the last of it in that other fandom I used to frequent (it was quite a toxic surrounding, and when you deal with meta analyses... you run into all sorts?) but it's people and their egos, and the popularity game is more or less the same - always taking us back to that high-school mentality, unfortunately?

So what's my position? I have absolutely zero tolerance for any kind of gaslighting or bullying and I'm very sorry if that's what happened to you, my friend. If you'd be kind enough to contact me privately off anon to share any other details and/or receipts - I promise to do everything I can to rectify ANY iffy content posted here. Starting with that post with problematic (or lacking?) tag, and then any further promotion or endorsement of said author. Popular or not, the least I can do is not further advertise works (and egos?) of such individuals. Authorial intent and red herrings are one thing, but deliberate misleading followed by gaslighting of any sorts... it’s just downright contemptible.

Bottom line is, this is not a small blog anymore judging by the ever-increasing numbers - so I believe every single one of you out there is at least owed fairness, as well as full transparency. Unapologetically so.

Thanks for letting me know, and apologies for a delayed reply. I hope to hear from you again soon. Take care. 🙏🏻

[melting-maple-love]

💗🐞♡NEW INTRODUCTION POST!!♡🐞💗

♡ Howdy Hey Hey!! I'm Beelzebug/Maple/Pearls! You can call me any of those names! ❤️ I'm 20, have ADHD, Mexican, Nonbinary (she/they), Panromantic, and I'm a fat selfshipper! 💕💕 (ENFP 9w8) I'm mostly here to look at imagines and maybe even post some selfship art! ❤️

✧*。Nonbinary / Demisexual / Pansexual ♡

But First- basic DNI criteria ✧*。

DNI IF: Proship/Comship/Pro-Fic/Anti-Antis (get lost and die. Human Garbage.) DSMP fan/stans, Harry Potter stans, Homestuck stans, South Park selfshippers and stans, Pro-Lifers, Support pedophiles like (Sh * dman, Min * s-8, Z * ne), Transphobes/Terfs, Vivziepop stans, Aphobes. (Any of you that try to interact will get insta-blocked.)

Soft DNI: if we share romantic f/os, please block me if we do share romantic f/os or make a tag I can blacklist!, I have nothing against you! Just normal boundary stuff! ❤️

I only share romantic f/os if you're my friend (still a bit iffy, please ask) on Mallsoft (discord server) HI YALL IF YER SEEIN THIS!!! 👀💕💕💕💕💕

Now onto the F/O List!! Sorry I have a lot I'm probably bound to not interact with all of you 💔

♡ If my DNI does not apply to y'all, HI WELCOME!! I hope we can be genuine friends! I have a discord if you wanna talk more, DM me if you want! 💕💕 I hope I didn't scare off anyone 💔 (the spoiler tagging is for discord servers 👉👈) But I hope we can be friends and to meet more people!! ❤️❤️❤️

PROSHIPPERS/COM-SHIPPERS/ANTI-ANTI SHIT BAGS DNI. I SPIT ON YOUR FACE CREEPS!! ♡

[palmett-hoes]

i said in this post that i have original characters and backstories for neil's extended family. it took me,, a really long time to write it all down. it's been a full month since the original post, and this is still just a run through of things, not full prose, which i might be interested in doing one day but not anytime soon

now, some things to note about what i'm writing, why, and how. methodology, basically. this might not have come through yet in my posts, because i just don't post about my half-finished ideas, but i research a LOT. i like to base what i write about on real life, even if it's just headcanons and fanfic

also, i love helping people with research, so if anyone wants help with research for a fic or just their personal headcanons or anything hit me up!!

as a white person who wants to write characters from different ethnic backgrounds, i feel i have a responsibility to really do my due diligence and research as much as possible to consider things from every angle. and part of that for me is making sure that every character of color has a backstory. they don't just appear somewhere, i have to give them a reason for being there and a story for how they got there, even if that's not what i write their STORY about. people, come from places, basically. i follow a lot of demographic census information and population averages, as well as a lot of history, from as general as transatlantic trade in the last 500 years to as specific as the changes in a single city in a certain year

talking to other writers in the fandom i know i'm a little overzealous, but this is what gives me peace of mind to feel like i am putting the effort in to get things right

so anyway, as for what that means here:

i like writing neil as mixed black/jewish. it works well thematically for his character, as well as just what FEELS right for how i visualize him in my head

only, that can't simply come from nowhere. we know who his parents are. they need to also be poc for neil to be one, and they're a complicated pair to handle in that lens

one choice i made about that, for multiple reasons, is that everything about neil's parents' backgrounds should mirror each other. it can't simply be that one if them is black and one is jewish, or even that mary is both and nathan is white, because that says something i don't want to say any way you slice it. additionally, i want both facets of his ethnicity to be important to neil, and i feel as though he would want to ignore the half of himself from his father.

so: they both have to be mixed, giving them a sort of,, ideological equal footing, as it were. that way, i can also write three different experiences, rather than accidentally implying that This is what being black is, or This is what being jewish is, or This is what being mixed is. and that's also important to me, even if it's just in my head or not even directly addressed. it's still a big consideration of mine anytime i write about any of them

now, finally, onto mary and nathan! i'll put it below a cut because this is already long enough, the under-the-cut is much longer, and i don't want to wear out your thumbs if you don't care

mary hatford

canon timeline, neil was born in 1988. as a tentative number let's say mary was around 30 when he was born, meaning she would be born in the 50s. say her parents were roughly the same age, so they were born around the 20s

like i said, what's happening where in history is very important to me for building these backstories, and major historical events tend to have a lot of influence on population shifts. and well,, jews and europeans in the early-to-mid 20th century? there's no getting around involving world war II. nothing explicit, but it is mentioned and part of the story

mary’s paternal family are the hatfords. they're from the british west indies, largely jamaica, but they've been involved with shipping and trade all over the trans-atlantic region for generations.

they have a complicated relationship with the british empire, having both worked for them and against them at various points, sometimes both at once. similarly, they've tried multiple times through the generations to relocate the family to england permanently, but have been turned away or pressured out

they associate england and the british empire with power, and they both disagree with and desire that power in degrees which vary person to person. they do have a general idea between them though that living in england is a sign of status and authenticity, and while they don't want to leave jamaica permanently they do want their center of power to be in england, and there is a deep resentment against the anglos for not allowing them to stay permanently despite their wealth and influence, the fact that their work will always be looked down on and seen as lesser

i did come into building the hatfords with the primary idea of them being black british, and looking into the organized crime connection second. them being jamaican/west indies is a reference to the jamaican posse, who have a large presence in the london crime scene, although that's really the only connection. the hatfords aren't really yardies in any sense

the hatfords' status as organized crime is a little iffy. mostly they skirt the line between legal and illegal, owning legal trading companies and doing plenty of legal shipping. their main business in the criminal underworld is being middlemen moving supplies for other groups. they have a lot of contacts, and they serve an invaluable role in international smuggling, but they rarely get their own hands dirty. they move things from one place to the other and don't question too much what it is, though they don't deal in people

mary's father is named samuel hatford (first name in reference to samuel bellamy, the gentleman pirate king of the early 18th century). he was born in England, raised largely in Jamaica, then moved back to England as a teenager/young man. he's light-hearted and a bit idealistic for someone from a crime family, seeing the best in people even when they're cold and often believing in principle over profit, which at times put him in conflict with what's best for business

he almost enlisted in world war II, but instead convinced the family to work as weapons and supplies runners supporting the Allies and guerilla resistance groups

mary's mother is named cima ben nahman (ladino/judeo-spanish/sephardic names, doesn't really reference anything or anyone in particular). She's is an algerian jew. Born in algeria (city undecided, though algiers had the largest jewish community at the time), she moved to france for a few years as a young woman, probably for education. she joined anti-fascist organizations which became resistance groups once germany invaded

she's stoic, and has a ruthless mind for strategy. like most algerian jews, she's caught between her home country and its colonizer. the french empire played the algerian muslim majority against the jewish minority as a way to create infighting and distract the algerians from uniting and turning against them, but the algerian jews also then became reliant on the french for protection. (it's a really, really complicated situation)

cima sort of hates them both, both algeria and france. her only allegiance is to being jewish

(contrast this to samuel, who feels that he is BOTH british and caribbean, even when those two identities may be in conflict)

cima and samuel met when samuel provided weapons and supplies to cima's militia group. he took particular interest in them and went out of his way to help, above and beyond the other groups the hatfords were supplying

in the waning period of the war, cima was seriously injured, i'm currently thinking a land mine accident. she survived, but her recovery was slow. she lost an arm and had burns across half her torso, neck, and face. samuel brought her to england supported her through her recovery. in the hospital, they spoke a lot about why they each chose to fight, and the ways they did because neither were formal soldiers fighting for a country. samuel was in many ways fighting for an ideal, while cima was fighting for her people. cima also talked to him a lot about judaism and religion during this time, which samuel took an interest in. eventually, cima decided to stay

they got married. samuel converted, which was somewhat controversial with his family. however, cima agreed to join the family business, where she became an integral but sometimes ruthless member. after algerian independence, she brought some of her trusted family and community into the fold as well, some moving to england and others to france

both cima and samuel believed very heavily in responsibility, though what it meant for each of them was different. cima believed in preparedness and follow-through, samuel believed in family and protection, doing what's right outside of the bounds of the law. this contributed a lot to how they raised their children

when they were born, mary and stuart were raised in england (and i like to think they have an oldest brother). the hatfords were a big family, and influential, although careful about balancing the legal and less-legal sides of their business. the ben nahmans were smaller, and most of them were in france so mary and her brothers saw them less often. they were raised very religiously and culturally jewish, though close with the caribbean side of their family too, as well as being the first generation who were born and raised in england. this put them at a cross-section of three very different cultures, and was where mary first learned about changing and blending in with different groups

mary was the youngest and a little bit spoiled by her father, aunties, and uncles. her mother however was much less tolerant of her. clearly very affected by her time in the war, cima became extremely distrustful and suspicious, and tried to instill in her children a similar sentiment of secrecy and self-sufficiency, avoiding attention and casual relationships. she could be harsh on them, especially mary, who was the most resistant to this

growing up, mary was irresponsible and fun-loving, goading her brothers and cousins, getting in trouble, and starting fights. she didn't understand the tenuous balance of being organized crime, and at times put the whole family at risk by overestimating their sway. her mistakes affected the whole family but it was usually her mother who confronted her about them first and most harshly

she resented her mother's control, and didn't understand the reasons behind it. she also couldn't differentiate between the boundaries her mother sets as a result of her own trauma, and the necessary boundaries she set for the safety of the family, viewing them as one and the same, and leading her to hate any kind of control exerted over her

really, a lot of cima's character is just who mary ends up becoming after being married to nathan and being on the run. i like the story of a child becoming the parent they once hated. rather than learn from her mother, both her failures and her successes, mary becomes her, doomed to make the same mistakes. this is also why cima is wounded by a landmine, because mary dies in fire

---

nathan wesninski

nathan was HARD to come up with a story for, mostly because,,, WHY THE FUCK DOES THIS GUY WORK FOR THE JAPANESE YAKUZA

wesninski is a VERY polish name. the japanese-polish connection is,, not super strong

so anyway, working off the idea of the wesninski family being a polish jewish one, WHERE is he going to meet a japanese crimelord to get into a multi-generation debt/business arrangement with?

turns out, the answer is brazil

brazil actually has a large jewish population (roughly 10th largest in the world). it began with its colonization by the portuguese, but the 19th century to modern population largely comes from central and eastern europe. brazil ALSO has the largest japanese population outside of japan

also this story ended up being WAY more detailed and prosaic than samuel&cima's story, which is basically just bullet points. there's no reason for this i love both stories very much just for some reason the words flowed for me here and not there

to avoid having a second jewish story where wwII is prominent, the wesninskis get a page out of my own family's book: nathan's grandfather (neil's great grandfather) came to the americas fleeing the russian pograms around the turn of the 20th century

so

Wesninski came to brazil (city undecided, have a lot more research to do about individual cities in brazil). he had waardenburg syndrome(a hereditary genetic condition that can affect eyes and hearing) which runs very strongly in his family (his son, nathan, and neil will all inherit it), and he is completely Deaf. while he came to brazil alone, in his new home he connected both with the local jewish community and the local deaf community, and eventually marries another Deaf Jewish woman

eventually they were able to establish a kosher deli and restaurant in the city, one which became a common hangout for the Deaf community. then one day (probably around 1915), a group of japanese men came in, and kept returning

these were the moriyamas, recently arrived from japan, in a place with very few japanese people and businesses. they liked the wesninski deli because they didn't share a language with anyone in there, couldn't even be heard by most of them, and it would also be difficult for the authorities to question them. two layers of protection for a crime family in a vulnerable place

wesninski and the moriyamas were amicable to each other, but as they didn't actually have a way to communicate that was the extent of it. but the moriyamas were polite and payed well and didn't bother the other customers. als, as a jewish establishment, they had a lot of education resources, which were helpful to the moriyamas in learning about brazilian society, including beginning to understand portuguese

now, in japan, the moriyamas were a small yakuza family. they got driven out by their bigger and stronger and more established competition around the time when japanese immigration to brazil was just starting, so that was where they went. though they had little option in where they ended up, they also had little competition in establishing their business

i still have a lot of research to do about the moriyamas. about both how the yakuza operate and about how brazilian organized crime works, and about life in brazil for early japanese immigrants. so a lot of the moriyama details are pretty vague

now the wesninskis had a son, meyer (nathan's father. name in reference to meyer lansky, famous american jewish mobster of polish descent) who was around 14 when the moriyamas arrived. he himself was not fully deaf like his parents, though was hard of hearing and raised in the Deaf community. as he goes through his rebellious teenage years, well, the gangsters are right there

in the early days the moriyamas were still more concerned with mostly the japanese enclaves, but they had aspirations of expanding. meyer wasn't japanese, but he was helpful to the moriyamas who came into the deli to study. he was perceptive and bold, could keep a secret, knew his way around knives from working in the deli, and knew the city. he was a good asset to them, and he was interested in causing some trouble

over the next ten years or so, meyer got increasingly more involved, alongside the moriyamas becoming increasingly more established throughout the city. he goes from someone who helps out occasionally and relays information beyween parties to getting involved with minor shakedowns, bribery, evidence disposal. by the time he's in his 20s he's thoroughly enmeshed

his parents were older when they had him, and his father died relatively young, leaving meyer the store and his mother to take care of. they were vaguely aware of his connections to the moriyamas and didn't approve of what he did with them but he also kept the worst from them, and was always a diligent son, and the only one they had. he assured them no matter how far he went that he wasn't "really" part of the gang

"yakuza have tattoos, and see, ima? no tattoos. i'm still a good jewish son, not a gangster"

now the problem arises when meyer falls for camara da machado, a young Deaf woman who frequents the store

(based on/inspired by/FC yaya dacosta (where the name comes from) and rutina wesley)

she was a Deaf girl born to a hearing family who struggled to give her the support she needed, maybe even just a single mother, and she'd spent a lot of time alone at the deli from a young age (12-ish?). she was shy and quiet and a little bit of a shrinking violet, but the wesninskis became very fond of her. she started tentatively helping them out around the store which became a job. she was often included in family meals and holidays, and always had a bed in their apartment above the deli if she needed one, and more than once had helped patch meyer up after he got in trouble to hide the extent of it from his parents

she was a couple years younger than him but he'd always been sweet on her. and she'd had a crush on him from basically the moment she'd layed eyes on him. they'd known each for years and camara was basically family, and then one day when they were both in their 20s it just suddenly clicked for them

so meyer and camara fell in love. meyer was head of the house, had to keep the deli running, and had his mother, camara, and possibly camara's mother (undecided at this juncture) to worry about and he decided he didn't want to continue working with the moriyamas in case it dragged his family into danger. being a gangster was a fling of youth and he was ready to grow up

when he informed the moriyamas of this though, they,,, did not agree.

while MEYER might not have considered himself part of the gang, THEY didn't think he just got to walk away. he'd worked with them for too long and knew too much. there might even have been a desire to tie him to the family permanently through marriage. and well,, one man against a growing criminal empire can't do much

it was a huge shock to him, and made him truly realize how naive and reckless he'd been. he'd been a dumb kid who wanted to start some trouble, the moriyamas were career criminals. they expected that once you were in, you were in for life, and they did not take kindly to meyer disagreeing with this

he didn't know how to explain this to his family... so he didn't. they'd all told him they wanted him to stop, but he'd meant for the announcement to be a surprise. after learning that he would not be permitted to walk away, he chose to just hide it and continue with business as usual

it worked for a while, maybe a few years, a time during which the moriyamas were getting a lot more brutal as they got more established and increasingly looked to expand, putting them in competition with other gangs and greater law enforcement, until they were a true crime empire spread across whole regions of the country. meyer had lost a lot of esteem in their eyes by asking to leave, leading them to put him under increasing scrutiny and giving him more incriminating tasks, to ensure that he would be incriminated if he ever tried to turn them in. it's during this time that he first had to kill for them

then camara got pregnant

and meyer was terrified. he didn't know how the moriyamas would deal with a kid. the only marriages and children he knew of within the family were endorsed by the boss, many arranged by him, and he knew his wouldn't be approved. yakuza wives were heavily involved with the business too, and he absolutely did not want that for camara

he broke down and told her everything. she's horrified, and furious that he kept it from her, but she didn't want to give up her baby. it would be hard, but she believed they can keep it hidden, and if the moriyamas found out, maybe it wouln't be so bad?

(spoiler: it would)

they have a son, born natan da machado, under his mother's name

meyer and camara never got married. meyer was going to propose after he left the moriyamas but that obviously didn't happen. marriages were supposed to be blessed by the boss, and meyer never dared to ask. they already lived together, anyway

but with natan, they decided that meyer couldn't acknowledge him as his own. in the deli or in the streets, he didn't acknowledge natan. he was camara's bastard son, and meyer didn't want anything to do with him

it was a flimsy disguise at best. natan was mixed, but there was a strong enough resemblance to his father. even if his hair was a darker red or he had brown skin, they had the same eyes

they tried to keep him away from the moriyamas as he grew up, hoping they wouldn't see him and make the connection, but they also kept him very hidden in general, just in case. he spent a lot of time inside, with his grandmothers

and that was how natan grew up, feeling like a secret, his father cold and distant, only acknowledging him in their apartment. cut off from other kids his age. a hearing boy in a Deaf family (natan himself was HoH but still had most of his hearing. meyer and his maternal grandmother could both hear, but they had gotten out of the habit of it and mostly communicated through sign)

natan developed a deep feeling of resentment towards his father and shame about himself from a young age. he felt like a mistake, defective somehow. so wrong he had to be hidden away from everyone

there's only so long that you can hide a child, though, and when natan was around ten the moriyamas found out about him, and they were not happy.

they didn't like split attention or loyalty. they kept children and family under very tight wraps. they should be one hundred percent enmeshed in the moriyama empire, raised to be loyal and helpful in whatever way they were needed. the fact that meyer wanted and was willing to leave for this family, and then hid his son, was a huge betrayal

still, they gave him an opportunity to prove his loyalty: kill camara or the moriyamas would kill them all: her, natan, meyer, and both their mothers

but meyer couldn't do it, and instead he told camara to run and hope they didn't actually care enough to chase her down. and she did. and she couldn't take natan with her. (i haven't fully fleshed out why yet, currently thinking that meyer was given this ultimatium when they already had natan)

so camara left her son, and got away

i built the story of mary's mother as a reflection of mary's story if something had been different, and i built nathan's story the same way. his wife takes her son and runs away with him when the moriyamas try to take him from her. nathan's mother was in the same situation and left him behind

over the next forty years of his belonging to the moriyamas he gets to marinate in that resentment. from the father that ignored to the mother who ran away from him, he internalizes it as being something wrong with him, not the circumstances. the more he's taught to torture and kill and the more he excels at it, the more this belief gets cemented. he's good at killing, he was meant to kill. he's twisted and broken and wrong inside and he always was and his parents always knew

and then when it happens again but differently this time he throws away a decade and millions of dollars and his standing with his boss to hunt down his son and his wife because he didn't get to run away so why should they? why does mary love nathaniel more than camara loved natan?

from here, the exact detail's of nathan's story aren't quite solidified. whether he was raised by his father from then on or by his grandmothers (or whether his grandmothers left with his mother) or whether the moriyamas put him somewhere else entirely, but from then on he lived under the moriyamas' direct supervision, and they taught him how to turn a knife on a man

they took his mother's name from him, though, so he's natan wesninski, not natan da machado, because they own the wesninskis now

and when the moriyamas decided to expand beyond brazil when natan was a young man instead of a child, and settled on the east coast of the US, they renamed him nathan, because it sounded more "american"

---

so that's it. obviously there are still a lot of unfinished details in both stories, but they're strong enough at this point to stand on their own and i haven't changed or rethought a lot of the major details in a long time

i've become extremely attached to these OCs and their stories, and i hope they interest other people too. some day i'd like to write them out in prose properly, along with the story of nathan and mary meeting, but that'll be a while away considering the pace i move at

so until then i just wanted to put this out there

[bluehairedtracii]

Hooks and Coins|| Harry Hook x Reader Soulmate AU!

Requested: by @lemonypink

Warnings: Harry being cute 

Pairings: Harry Hook x Swann-Turner! Reader

Author's note: Oh my gosh this took so long! I’m literally so sorry! My motivation for writing has been a little iffy lately. Buuutt I’ve also been binging Criminal Minds soo it kinda gave me a creative push to start writing again. (Spencer Reid fics comin in the future) Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this fic as I get back into writing again. 

P.S. Melody is Melody from the second little mermaid movie, and I know she's kinda not mentioned again in the fic but just know that this is y/n’s best friend and that’s who she is lmao.  I also thought the Coin would fit well in here because of the movies just sshhhh. Enjoy!!!!

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

"it's soon! I swear!" The night of your 16th birthday, the day your life would change.

The day you get your soulmate tattoo.

"Are you sure??" Melody whines. "I'm positive! Look, it's not even 12:00 on the dot yet- ONE MORE MINUTE!" You look back from the phone on your lap to your right wrist.

"It's twellveeee." Melody cooed.

"Please please please..." You muttered still hopeful.

Then it hit, well stung. "Ow, ow, I feel it!"

"Let me see!" Melody basically climbed on top of you and saw it before you could. She gasped "oh my gosh y/n..." "What? What is it?" You tried to pull back your wrist to see, but Melody kept it steady.

"Y/n, as your best friend, I have to warn you as to what you're about to see...."

"C'mon Mells, it can be that bad." You sighed and tried to pull away from her. 

"You have to PROMISE Me that you won't freak out?"

Annoyed, you sighed and smiled "I promise." "Okay.." she released your hand. You rubbed your wrist and looked at the small tattoo, "A Hook?" "Not just any hook... Penny told me about this." "This is the same hook as the famous Captain Hook himself! It must be his son!"

"Captain? So my soulmate is a Pirate? Like Dad and Mom?" Melody nods almost worried.

"Awesome."

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

"It's late Harry, your sister is gonna kill us if we get caught and wake your dad." Gill rubbed his eyes as he walked towards the galley of the ship.

"I know, but this is where the best lighting is...in a few minutes, I'll get me soulmate...well uh, tattoo I mean." He whispered and unlocked the door, cursing at the squeaky floors.

Harry turned on the lamp nestled on his father's desk. The room lit up illuminating the maps that his father and oldest sister had drawn up while sailing the open seas. He dreamed of nothing more than doing that, sailing and hailing a crew of his own, but for now, he follows Uma’s orders. 

“One more minute Harry.” Gill whispered looking at the tickless clock on the desk.

“Aye, ow! fff-!” Harry cupped his hand and flipped it to see his wrist, he bit back the pain as he saw the black ink form on his wrist. He’d been confused and tried to make it out as it formed. “Bloody hell, this sure is detailed in’it?” Gill loomed over Harry's shoulder, wondering what it was himself, Gill was sure he wasn't ready for his soulmate yet if he had to endure this much pain. 

Harry closed his eyes and exhaled as the pain stopped.

He opened his eyes to see the grim Aztec Coin staring back at him.

“Holy shi-” “Gil do you know what this means?!” “She’s spooky?” “No GIl, you git, She’s a pirate! and she’s a Turner...” He says in awe as he smiles down at his wrist.

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

A few months later both of you seemed to forget. The events of your daily lives getting in the way. You’re training to go off on a sailing trip with your dad for a few months, and Harry is… currently Helping Uma get revenge on Mal by kidnapping Ben. 

But.. you were unaware of this. Obviously. 

Lonnie and you were fencing/sword fighting in the school’s courtyard (for fun) when you saw the boys rushing into the limo. You both caught up to them and questioned them immediately. 

“What’s going on here Jay?” Lonnie snickered full well knowing what’s happening because she overheard it earlier passing their room. “We.. uh..” “we’re going with you..” Lonnie cut the pair off. And this is how you went to the Isle of the Lost for the first time. 

They had told you the plan but left out the part about who they were going to have to deal with if the plan went south. You were nowhere near nervous. All those times you’d trained with Lonnie and your parents at the shop basically were all for this moment. Your pirate self was ready. 

Mal handed over the wand and you cringed a bit. “She’s gonna know it's fake…” you turned to Lonnie and whispered. “Shh I know, get ready..”  you prepped your sword and placed one hand on your lapel while the other was free to toss the swords. 

That’s when everything went south. You and Lonnie sprung into action and helped the others. The sounds of metal clashing mixed with the creaking of the ship and the salty sea air made you happy, it filled you with adrenaline. It felt like you were at home.

2 people fighting you at once, then three, then none, one by one you tossed them overboard.

You were caught in the crossfire between Carlos and some other goons so you ducked under them and sprung onto your feet right into someone else's back. 

You both turned to each other, swords ready, you saw him and you felt that burning in your body. The one that your friends always said happened when you met your soulmate… “Ow!” “Oi!!” Harry lurched back and held his hand. And so did you. 

“You…” he pointed at you “are you…?” you held up your hand and showed your tattoo. He gasped and smiled “I knew I’d see you one day..”  you said in awe. You heard Uma yell for Harry and his smile faltered into a smirk.

“Sorry lass, no ‘ard feelings right?” “Obviously.” You struck your sword first and your swords clashed with each other. “I knew you were good Turner, but not this good.” he laughed as you both turned a corner of the ship. “Thanks! Maybe I can teach you sometime Hook, You seem a bit rusty!” “Oi! My ‘eart Lass.. that one hurt!” 

You snickered and he had caught you by a wood post “awe, our first dance is over now?” your eyes sparkled. He smirked ”Aye if this were different, i’d very much like to get to know you lassy…”  he got closer almost closing the gap in between you two. And his lips brushed yours before you heard Mal and Lonnie yell that it’s time to go. You smiled “sorry Luv, it’s time for me to go!” you kiss his cheek and push him away into a hole that’s in the ship. “Oi! That’s not fair!”

You were the last one to leave and thought of an idea, you caught up with them and helped Mal to kick off the ramp back to the car. “Find me!” You blew a kiss to Harry and smiled, and so did he. on the inside, of course, he had to be “mad” for Uma’s sake. But right now he was anything but. He just met his Soulmate and she was everything he dreamed of.

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

Almost a year had passed when you had first met Harry. And you constantly think about him every day and so does he. 

He sat at the bow of the ship looking out to the ocean thinking about you. It’s all that he’s been thinking about actually. He’s waiting for the day you can be with each other and in each other's arms. You literally took his breath away, because you kicked him, but he was entranced by your skills and beauty. He dreams about learning with you, meeting your folks, owning a ship, and most importantly.. Sailing away with you to see the world. He was stuck here. 

Though he didn't know that you had convinced Ben (it took a lot of convincing) to let Harry over onto the isle for a while. Your boating trip with your dad had gone so well that you also convinced your dad to let you go alone this time. Your parents knew how a forbidden love felt more than anyone else. The love between the two of them, a humble blacksmith that was the son of a pirate and the daughter of a wealthy governor who found that boy so long ago. They were never supposed to be together in society's standards, but their love was the strongest bond. They granted their blessing to you, they knew you'd be safe. You’re a strong pirate and they want to see you the happiest you can be.

You smiled and looked out the window of the limo as it crossed the bridge. Mal and Evie both came with you so they could help you find him and tell him the news. You guys slip onto the docks while Mal and Evie keep guard on the limo and watch you just in case you need back up. “Ursulas…” you smile and cross through the swinging doors, you found him and you felt the burning feeling in your body again. So did he. “OI!” he dropped the basket of chips he was holding and growled at the mess he made. He was fuming until he locked eyes with you. “My princess has come back to me?” he smiled and walked towards you completely forgetting about the fries as he kicked them to the side. “Hey Hook.” you smiled and felt his hand on your face but he backed away. “Woah Turner you ain't gonna kick me ‘gain right?” “no.” you laughed and you both hugged each other. 

He took the two of you outside “what are ye doin here luv? I mean, you don’ ‘ave to make any excuses to see me, but you came all the way from the other side.” he laughed and pushed back a strand of stray hair behind your ear. You blushed and held one of his hands, but unknowingly played with one of the rings on said hand. He bit his lip smiling at your nervousness. “U-Uhm.” you were surprised by the nerves in your voice, you were never this nervous before. This boy is going to wreck you. “It took major convincing, but I finally convinced my family and Ben to let you come to Auradon with me for a three-month sailing trip…” you smiled and looked at him. His eyes lit up and he lifted you off the ground and spun you around. “Are ye serious?! Of course I'd go with you!”  “Great! We leave…” you check your watch on your left arm. “ In 30 minutes!” “Aye! I need to pack!”  you laughed.

 he backed you into the wall. You smirked, “oi, I've been trying to do this ever since the first time we met.” He closed the gap between you two and the feeling of his soft pillowy lips on yours brought you comfort and warmness. You kissed back and ran your fingers through his dark locks as he tightened his grip around your waist. You never wanted this to end. “25 minutes!” You heard the girls yell and you pulled away and laughed. “I've finally found my Turner..” “And I’ve finally found my Hook..”

[wynniewright]

In Harm’s Way (M)

→ This story is a part of the @bangtanshadowfamily “The Creatures of Moonlight Manor” Halloween collab!

→ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

→ Word Count: 4.8k

→ Genre: grim reaper au, halloween au, smut, lots of fluff, bit angsty

→ Summary: After fighting with her grim reaper boyfriend, Y/N decides to throw herself into a dangerous situations to get him to stop ignoring her.

→ Trigger Warnings: Mentions of attempted suicide (it’s not dark, think of when bella tried to get edward to save her so she kept doing stupid shit - it’s that), one time mention of a past near-death experience (not detailed, it’s just vaguely mentioned in the fluffy part), reader attempts suicide via toaster bath (with the intention of being saved by her supernatural, soul-reaping boyfriend). Please don’t read if these make you uncomfortable! 

→ Warnings: dirty talk, unprotected sex, oral (female), bit of impregnation kink, tae just wants to be a dad, reader makes stupid decisions, cum play, possible impregnation?, sex with pants on, fingering, lots of fluff and all that good stuff

→ A/N: Hello hello! Finally found the time to squeeze in this story in the middle of my full-time school and part-time work schedule. Sorry it took so long for another fic to post but here I am! I want to thank my amazing bangtan hq sprinting crew who helped motivate me to finish this @purpletigertaetae @nightowls388 @shadowsremedy @wwilloww. This story was supposed to be a lot darker and a whole lot more filthy than it turned out. Wasn’t supposed to be fluffy at all and somehow it turned real quick so I hope you enjoy. I’d also like to state that I’m not promoting suicide or slightly toxic relationships, this is a fictional story and the reader hasn’t died, isn’t dead, and won’t die, so the suicidal scene in this is not meant to be disturbing. If you’re not comfortable reading, please don’t. Alright, I love you all.~ Hope you enjoy.

The biggest struggle of dating Taehyung was that no guide, tutorial, or advice blog post could’ve prepared you for what it was going to be like to be in a relationship with him. I almost wished there were some sort of ‘how to’ on dating a grim reaper because no matter how much dating experience I had, being with him was like being in my first relationship again.

It was a little unconventional, sure. Date nights were always iffy since, apparently, reapers don’t need sleep and therefore are technically scheduled around the clock. Boy, there was nothing like us setting up a nice, stay-at-home dinner date when he’d suddenly kiss my cheek and disappear into thin air, only to come back a few minutes later and announce he’d taken another soul. I’ll be honest, it was a slight mood killer. 

But aside from his job description, Tae was a kind person. He didn’t seem to know exactly how to deal with human emotions, as his kind were strictly prohibited from having human-reaper relations and never had the opportunity to learn from us. But just because he didn’t know what emotions were, doesn’t mean he didn’t feel them. He was a sensitive guy, too.

I remembered the first time he cried. We were watching Marley & Me and I cried at the end like any other sane human being. Tae didn’t cry at all, in fact, knowing I was sad made him sad enough to tear up, even more so when he couldn’t get me to stop. That memory was one of my favorites purely because it was too wholesome to forget: a grim reaper crying because a girl was sad that a dog died in a movie. 

But like every other person in the world, not ever emotion was positive. 

Being much older than I, Taehyung didn’t really have moments where he got angry to the point of exploding in a fit. There wasn’t a situation where he ever passed that threshold, at least, not in front of me. The feelings Tae couldn’t quite grasp were hurt and jealousy. 

From his own words, he never loved anyone before me, and something I knew better than anyone was that jealousy and love were very closely intertwined. 

The first year we dated, I tried explaining to him what jealousy was, that even I felt it too in an attempt to teach him that he didn’t need to act on it. It was safe to say that it didn’t really work.

Over four and a half into our relationship together and Taehyung still chose to disappear whenever we got into a small petty argument that involved him taking something out of context and then not wanting to talk about it like the century old being that he was. 

In our most recent example, my best friend, Sam, called and told me that she was expecting her first baby. We cried a little and then spent the rest of the conversation talking about whose eyes they would have or which parent they would most resemble. Tae and I never talked about kids nor a future together, we just lived in every moment the two of us were given, so indulging on a new topic with Sam gave me the image of tiny Tae-Taes waddling across the wooden floor, matching their father’s bright, boxy grin as they giggled. 

I made one comment - one! I told her how I’d love to have mini-Taehyungs running about the place and that I was so excited to meet her little Sam. Somehow, he took that and ran with it.

He didn’t bother letting me speak, pulling the usual disappearing act he always resorted to when he was upset and didn’t want to properly face his feelings in the moment. I thought it would pass like all the rest, but something changed. 

Hours passed and he never came to check in on me. Days flew by and I hadn’t heard from him. I wanted for him to come by, swallowing my pride and shouting at the empty air in hopes he was listening, to no avail. Nothing worked. 

After two weeks of being ignored and left without so much as a trace, I decided to do what any normal girl would do to seek out her boyfriend’s attention.

I needed to kill myself. 

I didn’t want to die, by any means. Tae knew how close I’d come to death a few too many times, but if I was going to get his attention back on me, I needed to attempt something stupid. Not only did it have to be stupid, it also had to be believable. I needed to convince him that I was going to die and hope he’d rescue me just in time.

I knew it wasn’t a good plan to start off with but it was the only thing I could come up with to get him to focus on me. The only reason I even thought of such a stupid idea was because I knew he’d never let me actually die. He saved me once and I was willing to bet he’d save me again and this time my life was actually on the line.

All that being said, I’ll regurgitate that it wasn’t the brightest idea I’d ever had. 

What if he’d decided to have someone else cover me? What if the one time he decided he didn’t want to see me again, he passed the job on to someone else and they just let it go?

I shivered with that thought fresh in my mind. To say I was scared was a gross understatement, the thought of all the ways this could go bad were enough to paralyze me with fear. There was only one reason I stood there in our master bathroom with a bath full of water and a toaster in my hands, already plugged in and ready for me to drop it in.

If I wanted him to talk to me, I had to force him to keep me out of harm’s way.

Nervousness nagged at the back of my mind, heart beating a million miles a minute against my ribcage, forcing me to take a deep inhale of fresh air, even if it was only to calm my nerves for a few seconds. A few seconds was enough to release my grip and pray that Tae would be there to rescue me.

With a last shake of my head, I thought up a quick “I love you” to the universe as if the universe would deliver my message to my friends and family if things didn’t go as planned. And with that, I dropped the small appliance.

The moment it slipped from my fingers, I clenched my eyes tight and waited for the shock to ripple through my body in powerful waves, but nothing came. In fact, time itself seemed to slow down as a large clanging against the wall forced my eyes open, right as a tall, dark figure wrapped an arm around my waist and yanked me out of the tub to press me against the wall adjacent. 

Taehyung stood there, fuming in anger as his gaze bored into mine, hands gripping tightly to me and keeping me pressed against the wall, though I’m not sure if he was holding onto me to keep me steady or if he was preparing to murder me where I stood. To be fair, if it wasn’t for his hold on me, I would’ve slipped against the tile floor that puddled with the water leaking from the bottom half of my jeans. I added a mental note to myself that next time I do something like that again, I should prepare for it to actually work and actually wear a pair of shorts or something. But another problem for another time.

The sheer force in which Taehyung’s eyes glared into mine would normally have made me cower. But knowing I had to do something that stupid just to get him to talk to me again filled me with a burning anger that I didn’t know I had within me. With that newfound anger, I pushed back against his chest, my hands rebounding off his chest without moving him in the slightest. He dropped his hold on me and I stepped forward, my foot catching a slippery tile and making me bang my back against the wall roughly. A sharp pain shot through my back and Tae softened for a  moment, reaching out again to steady me before I finally exploded.

“No. Don’t touch me! I don’t even know where to begin right now!” I defiantly shoved his hands away from my body and crossed my arms over my chest once I balanced out a bit. 

“You? You?! The fuck did I do?” He argued, waving his hands in the air as if his gestures were defence enough for his stupid inhuman reactions.

“Oh, so you’re going to play stupid now, is that it? Really?” I barked, taking a step forward and poking a finger right against his tight chest. “I don’t know. How about the fact that you just walked out on me and never came back? What happened to having a normal fucking conversation like an adult?” He received a poke to his clothed peck with every word to emphasize what he’d done wrong.

Annoyed with me prodding at him in frustration, he grabbed my wrist at my last poke, holding my arm away from him and resumed the glaring. “You’re making this about me now? Are you going to completely ignore the fact that you almost just fried yourself? What the fuck were you thinking?!” He raised his voice, something he didn’t do often, and I naturally shied away from the loudness of his voice to keep my ears from ringing.

“Well I wouldn't have needed to do that had you come back to talk! Of course I tried to get your attention. I love you, you fucking moron,” I grunted, voice cracking at the end as tears instantly sprang to my eyes. Willing them away, I stood my ground and met Tae’s heated gaze with an unwavering one of my own. I wasn’t the one in the wrong. 

“We did talk. Yeah I left, but I did that after I said things weren’t going to work out between us.”

He wasn’t wrong. He did technically say that but it was spoken like a passive statement made in anger, a second before he disappeared to wherever the fuck he went to whenever he was upset with me. So I was just supposed to accept that was it after four and a half years and no idea what broke the two of us. Fuck that, he meant too much to me.

“I don’t understand why you keep saying that. I made one comment - one! - about kids to Sam and now you’re dead-set on not being with me? Why are you so angry about that?” My words came out in a pained whisper as I pleaded with him. I just wanted a response back, to know what was hurting him so I could try and fix it. 

His eyes shifted from mine repetitively, searching my face for something before he mumbled out, “Because I can’t give that to you.”

I froze, all but my heart coming to a halt as I processed his words. He couldn’t give that to me… Kids?

I couldn’t help the frown that framed my lips as his face morphed into one of discomfort, grimacing at himself. A pang of guilt smacked me right in the chest as his face fell. All of it began to make sense and I wasn’t sure if I made things better or worse by doing what I did.

“Tae…” I started, mouth agape as I tried to form some sort of response but I couldn’t think of one at that moment.

He straightened himself out and all visible evidence of his emotional expression was wiped clean off his features. “I can’t give you kids,” he repeated clearly, seemingly more for himself than for me.

Pride swelled up in me and I reached out to wrap my arms around his midsection to hug him close.

“Baby,” I cooed, a fresh wave of tears threatening to soak into his soft cotton shirt as I smothered my face against him, taking in his scent and his warmth. He returned the embrace, tightly hugging me back with his nose buried atop my head.

“You’re not mad at me,” he mumbled thoughtfully.

I shook my head against him, squeezing him that much tighter to reassure him. “I figured it wasn’t biologically possible, but there are plenty of ways for couples to have kids when they otherwise can’t themselves.”

I imagined his brows furrowing as he turned his head, resting the side of his plump cheek on top of my hair. “I don’t understand.”

Pulling back, I tilted my head to look him in the eyes and smiled supportively. Our kids don’t have to look like either of us to be ‘little Taehyungs’ or little ‘Y/Ns’.” I leaned back further and pressed my chin against the center of his chest, humming as he readjusted his embrace around me. “I’ll see you in the way they smile or laugh, all those little idiosyncrasies they pick up from you that make them you kids.”

Tae blinked with a blank expression on his face, staring me down without so much as a response to follow up. The longer he went without responding, the stronger my heart pounded in my chest. 

We never had any serious talks like that before because everything about our relationship was too complicated. Marriage and families weren’t even on our mind, at least not on mine until Sam was getting her own, and suddenly I realized how I’d love to have a family with Taehyung, no matter how unconventional. But there’s a chance that could’ve just been me. Maybe it was too early to be talking about that so Tae didn’t really have an opinion since he couldn’t have kids. Maybe he was trying not to hurt my feelings? God, I broke him.

I cleared my throat and opening my mouth to talk when he cut me off. “So you’re not mad that I…. you’re okay with it?”

“Of course I’m okay with it. Sure, I’m a teenie but sad they probably won’t have your boxy grin or your cute little nose freckle, but our kids would be cute regardless.” The anxiety I had towards his response was no longer a thought in my mind as I suddenly grinned, punctuating my statement with a kiss on his chin, which he playfully returned. But he didn’t stop there. Strong hands gripped the back of my thighs and urged me to jump, forcing my legs to wrap around his waist as he pushed us up against the wall once more, chaste kisses littered across the length of my face. Each peck tickled, giggles pouring past my lips as I scrunched my nose up and took all the comfort he gave. Lips trailed down my neck before he buried his face in the crook of my collarbone, happily sighing against ym skin with a happy hum.

The smile on my lips pinched at my cheeks, making my face ache with the strength of my happiness alone. I never knew he’d have such a human response to something like kids. It made my heart flutter to know that’s where his heart and mind were, that he wasn’t actually mad at me.

With determination, he pushed us off of the bathroom wall and opened the door to our shared bedroom, carrying me to the bed where he motioned to put me down.

“Babe, my pants are still wet,” I reminded him, to which he nodded and set me down a foot or so away to stand in front of him.

“Well, we’re going to solve that,” he quipped, reaching down between us to fumble with the button and zipper on my jeans while I grinned up at him. It wasn’t what I had in mind when planning this out but I sure as hell wasn’t going to complain.

He had a few issues with the clasping mechanics of my pants, a regular issue he was faced with, and grunted in irritation. I giggled, brushing back the long strands of hair behind his ear before a loud ripping sound pulled my attention.

“Baby! These are my favorite jeans!” I screeched at Taehyung, lips pouting as I admired the fresh rip down the center of the jeans that paralleled the zipper. You know, the zipper he could’ve just undone.

Lips pressed to my forehead as a chuckle rippled through his chest. “Not anymore, they’re not.” He meant it to tease but I still glared at him, not finding it in me to laugh at the expense of my favorite pair of jeans. “Sorry, I’ll buy you new ones,” he offered in a light-hearted tone, making me roll my eyes and return the kiss to his chin.

Lean fingers dipped into the waistband of my jeans, tugging them down my hips until they passed the curve of my ass. But the material from the thigh down was still sopping wet and made it even more entertaining to watch him struggle to slide the denim down my legs, coaxing another giggle from me.

“Fuck, why is this so difficult?” Tae let out a soft groan, giving up on his quest of removing the wet article and instead closing the distance between us, lips meeting mine in a gentle kiss.

“What about my pants? Not going to rip them all the way?” I wriggled my eyebrows and laughed when he rolled his eyes back.

“Pants or no pants, I’m still fucking you into the mattress.” His voice dripped with heat, his tone comparing to sex itself, sensual and deep, which made the words shoot straight down to my core.

As promised, he stalked towards me until the back of my knees pressed up against the edge of the bed. He didn’t miss a beat, cupping my face with his large palms and pulling me into a deep kiss that took away what little breath I had after his sexy statement. His tongue skimmed over the seam of my mouth, canines digging into the flesh of my bottom lip as he gave me that final push back onto the bed, lowering me down with a steady hold on my back until I was flush against the mattress with him hovering above me. Mouths lavished over one another, pulling the other into each other as far as our bodies would let us until the lack of oxygen forced me to pull away for a moment.

I wasted no time in pulling the white shirt from his black dress slacks, untucking his usual orderly work clothes so I could dip my hand under the smooth material to feel his bare warmth against my fingers. Each little divot and bulge across his stomach only added to the arousal gathering between my legs, allowing my fingers to explore the clothed spaced with the image of him naked on my mind.

The thought of that alone drove me mad, thighs instinctively rubbing together to relieve some of the pent up pressure. But doing so only reminded me of the pants I still had clinging to the lower part of my legs, the tight and uncomfortable sticky feeling causing a slight bubble of irritation to well up within me.

“Bab-” I started, cut off by Tae’s lips roughly soothing over mine with a kiss deeper than the one before it. It was his mission to explore my mouth, delving deep inside to slide his tongue along mine in a dance for passion, not power. There was no struggle in the kiss, which was different - a good different that made my heart beat just a little bit harder for him.

“Sh, ignore the pants,” Taehyung whispered against my lips and I had to force down the eyeroll that almost surfaced at such a dismissive response.

As I was about to protest further, Tae parted from the kiss and pushed himself from the bed, kneeling down on the floor and pushing my legs up until they tucked up to my chest to expose my clothed core for his eyes to feast on. The tip of his tongue swiped across his lips before he dove down, pushing my panties out of the way to dip a finger shallowly into my sopping heat. I moaned softly, holding onto my ruined jeans with one hand and sneaking the other around to his head, intertwining my fingers in his soft, chestnut locks.

Without warning, Tae pushed his finger in to the knuckle and lowered his head to hungrily lap at my clip over my already soaked underwear, ripping a moan forcefully from my throat. He moaned in return, any noise that left my mouth only adding to his determination to work me up and get me as wet as inhumanly possible. He sped up his pace, curling the tip of his finger to stroke the pad of his fingertip along the rough patch at the top, the spot that made my mind go blank and left me a mumbling mess for him to please. He always knew how to hit the right place, each and every time together was spent as a new learning experience for him to map out and worship my body as I did his.

A few pumps later, Tae placed a sloppy, wet kiss along the inside of my thigh before adding a finger to the one already thrusting into my cunt at a moderate pace. The stretch burned despite how slender his fingers were, always filling me up nicely. Brushing against a particular spot deep within me, I was left gasping for air, tugging the strands at the top of his head as I attempted to buck my hips against his hand to meet each of his thrusts, my sopping pussy tembling around his fingers.

“Fuck, baby. You always take me so fucking well,” he praised, leaving a few stray kisses along my thigh to accompany the faster pace he’d set, working his fingers into me as if he could do it all fucking night long.

“Mmh, Tae,” I groaned, abandoning the grip on my legs to ground myself against the duvet underneath.

“What, baby? What do you want?” Rougher kisses were pressed into the length of my thigh and along my wet mound, tongue practically dancing everywhere but my clit to tease me.

“Tae-Tae, I want you in me. Please.”

Despite the urgency in my request, Tae peeked around my legs with a softened look, eyes kind as his body smile outshines the gloss of arousal painting his lips and chin.

“Yeah? Where do you want me, baby? Here?” He asked with a slide of his fingers across my g-spot, causing my thighs to quake as I fought off the softest hint of an orgasm. I nodded and begged him for his cock while he rubbed the remainder of my slick from his face and onto his sleeve, towering over me once again as he climbed up the bed once again, having stripped himself of his clothes. The heat returned to his gaze as he devoured my body with his eyes, not needed for me to be naked in order to let his imagination run wild. 

Leaving a soft kiss against my lips, he pushed back to sit on his knees and lifted my legs up until my feet rested against the top of his shoulder. The position we were in gave him the perfect view of my ruined panties, his eyes lit up with a heat unlike anything I’d ever seen from him before as he traced the material with his fingertip. 

“You want me to fuck a baby into you?” He asked, fighting the blush that creeped up his neck and into his ears as he stayed locked onto my clothed pussy. 

His words made me giddy, the thought of him fucking me and getting me pregnant with his child adding fuel to our very passionate fire. “Please, I want your baby, Tae,” I whined. He dragged his cockhead against my clothed core, earning a grunt from us both. With a push of my panties to the side and a gentle rock of his hips against my own, the entirety of his cock slid into me, walls protested the stretch his thick girth gave despite the prep, drawing a synchronized moan from us. 

“Oh fuck, babe,” I groaned, fisting the sheets beneath me as his grip aropund my legs tightened. He stilled when the last inch of his cock sank into me, the tremble in his breath telling me he felt the tightness in this position too. Without warning, he dragged his hips back, exposing everything but the tip of his cock before he quickly thrusted back in. 

He continued his languid pace while pressing open kisses to my foot just beneath the hem of the jeans, nails raking against the flesh of my thigh before his eyes flickered down to me. 

I gasped when he adjusted the angle of his hips and targeted my g-spot without miss, setting a punishing pace with his hips as he suddenly drove his cock into me roughly. I moaned out, teeth capturing my bottom lip to contain the sounds his actions were tearing from my throat. 

With a grunt, Tae switched our positions, lowering himself down until his shoulders nestled in the hollow of my knees, face ducking down to pull my lips into a kiss as he resumed his powerful thrusts into my aching pussy.

The new position had every part of my body humming in happiness, the surface of my flesh tingling with each thrust he gave until my eyes shut. Our lips danced together, tongues stealing tastes of one another as the little sounds we made were muted by the other. I fisted a hand in his sweaty hair, using the brunette strands to ground me against his assault against my hips. I tried to meet his thrusts, but the awkward position left me lying there, unable to move, as I took his cock as he gave it. 

I tightened around him, loving the way I felt every ridge of his thick length as it disappeared from my cunt and pushed back inside to hit me in all the right places. After so many thrusts against that spot deep within me, a pressure built up in my lower stomach that burned, growing in size with each pump of his cock until I whined, needing pressure on my clit to push me over that final edge.

Knowing exactly what I wanted, he snuck a hand between us and used the slick on my thighs to wet his thumb before swiping rigorously against my sensitive clit. I mewled in pleasure at the contact, throwing my head back and parting our lips as loud whines and moans leaked from my mouth. It was almost too much, the combination of his hand and his cock throwing me over the edge faster than I could ever get myself off, pushing me over that ledge and into my orgasm. 

I mumbled incoherently as my spasming cunt only drove Taehyung to ride out into his own orgasm, continuing his brutal pace until his cock twitched and stilled inside me, filling me to the brim with his seed.

We stayed that way for a few minutes, taking the time to catch our breaths and return to reality. My body protested him pulling his limp cock from my oversensitive hole, making me grimace. When he pulled back and released my legs from his grip, I groaned at the stiffness in my legs from being in that position for a while, but completely forgot about that as goosebumps fluttered over my skin and brought my attention back down to the soaked jeans I still had on my body. 

Taehyung noticed my shivering and gave a small laugh, deciding to help me out and finally rip each of the legs until the material wasn’t too tight to remove. Sticking to the stripping, I took off my top and unclasped my bra, flinging both across the room to deal with later as Tae stood at the edge of our bed, between my legs. His eyes locked onto the cum dripping from my pussy and he couldn’t contain a grin as he reached forward and swiped a drop up onto his finger to push it back inside of me. 

“Well, at least we’ll know for sure,” Tae murmured to himself. 

“Hm?” I hummed, reaching out with grabby hands for him to come join me on the bed, which he did with a soft smile and a peck to the nose.

“I’ve always assumed we can’t have kids. I guess now we’ll figure out whether I was right or wrong.”