#into a rough flowing river

[all-i-do-is-live-in-daydreams]

I absolutely adore clark omg. so excited at the prospect of working with his crush (*ahem* the love of his life), lois, that he completely blanks over her trying (very obviously and persistently) to get clark and superman in the same room together.

[cutesyh]

If a scene feels flat and you can't figure it out, ask yourself:

• What can MC smell? Is there an ocean breeze, sweat, a cinnamon roll fresh out the oven?

• What can MC hear, besides the dialogue? Is a bird singing, river flowing, a car speeding, clock ticking?

• Can they taste something, even if they're not eating? Previously drunk alcohol or juice, aftertaste of a cigarette, smog, too instense perfume?

• Can they feel something on their skin? Rough clothes or delicate material, blowing wind, an allergy or a rash, grass that theyre laying on?

• What does the character see, besides other characters? Is the room dark or is sunlight coming in nicely? Are the colours vibrant or dull? Are there any plants?

• What's the weather? Is it snowing and the cold is making goosebumps appear on their arms? Is it hot and sweaty and clothes are clinging to their body?

• HOW DOES IT MAKE THEM FEEL? To any of the above.

Do they like the smell of cinnamon rolls or are they weirdos (I'm a weirdo, I don't fit in).

Does the clock ticking calm them down or annoy them?

Do they enjoy the aftertaste of a cig and like how dirty it makes them feel?

Are they sensitive to touch and how their clothing feels on their skin or are they indifferent?

Would they enjoy the scenery more if it was more sunny out, because they're afraid of the darkness?

Do they like it snowy or are they always cold and hate winter?

Come on, give them persoanlity, likes and dislikes, don't be scared to make them people and not only likeable characters.

[thewriteadviceforwriters]

25 Prose Tips For Writers 🖋️✨ Part 1

Hey there!📚✨

As writers, we all know that feeling when we read a sentence so beautifully crafted that it takes our breath away. We pause, reread it, and marvel at how the author managed to string those words together in such a captivating way. Well, today I'm going to unpack a few secrets to creating that same magic in your own writing. These same tips I use in my writing.

But before I begin, please remember that writing is an art form, and like any art, it's subjective. What sounds beautiful to one person might not resonate with another. The tips I'm about to share are meant to be tools in your writer's toolkit, not rigid rules. Feel free to experiment, play around, and find what works best for your unique voice and style.

Power of Rhythm 🎵

One of the most overlooked aspects of beautiful prose is rhythm. Just like music, writing has a flow and cadence that can make it pleasing to the ear (or mind's ear, in this case). Here are some ways to incorporate rhythm into your writing:

a) Vary your sentence length: Mix short, punchy sentences with longer, flowing ones. This creates a natural ebb and flow that keeps your reader engaged.

Example: "The sun set. Darkness crept in, wrapping the world in its velvet embrace. Stars winked to life, one by one, until the sky was a glittering tapestry of light."

b) Use repetition strategically: Repeating words or phrases can create a hypnotic effect and emphasize important points.

Example: "She walked through the forest, through the shadows, through the whispers of ancient trees. Through it all, she walked with purpose."

c) Pay attention to the stressed syllables: In English, we naturally stress certain syllables in words. Try to end important sentences with stressed syllables for a stronger impact.

Example: "Her heart raced as she approached the door." (Stronger ending) vs. "She approached the door as her heart raced." (Weaker ending)

Paint with Words 🎨

Beautiful prose often creates vivid imagery in the reader's mind. Here are some techniques to help you paint with words:

a) Use specific, concrete details: Instead of general descriptions, zoom in on particular details that bring a scene to life.

Example: Instead of: "The room was messy." Try: "Crumpled papers overflowed from the waste bin, books lay spine-up on every surface, and a half-eaten sandwich peeked out from under a stack of wrinkled clothes."

b) Appeal to all five senses: Don't just describe what things look like. Include smells, sounds, textures, and tastes to create a fully immersive experience.

Example: "The market bustled with life. Colorful fruits glistened in the morning sun, their sweet aroma mingling with the earthy scent of fresh herbs. Vendors called out their wares in sing-song voices, while customers haggled in animated tones. Sarah's fingers brushed against the rough burlap sacks of grain as she passed, and she could almost taste the tang of ripe oranges on her tongue."

c) Use unexpected comparisons: Fresh similes and metaphors can breathe new life into descriptions.

Example: Instead of: "The old man was very thin." Try: "The old man was a whisper of his former self, as if life had slowly erased him, leaving behind only the faintest outline."

Choose Your Words Wisely 📚

Every word in your prose should earn its place. Here are some tips for selecting the right words:

a) Embrace strong verbs: Replace weak verb + adverb combinations with single, powerful verbs.

Example: Instead of: "She walked quickly to the store." Try: "She hurried to the store." or "She dashed to the store."

b) Be specific: Use precise nouns instead of general ones.

Example: Instead of: "She picked up the flower." Try: "She plucked the daisy."

c) Avoid clichés: Clichés can make your writing feel stale. Try to find fresh ways to express common ideas.

Example: Instead of: "It was raining cats and dogs." Try: "The rain fell in sheets, transforming the streets into rushing rivers."

Play with Sound 🎶

The sound of words can contribute greatly to the beauty of your prose. Here are some techniques to make your writing more musical:

a) Alliteration: Repeating initial consonant sounds can create a pleasing effect.

Example: "She sells seashells by the seashore."

b) Assonance: Repeating vowel sounds can add a subtle musicality to your prose.

Example: "The light of the bright sky might ignite a fight."

c) Onomatopoeia: Using words that sound like what they describe can make your writing more immersive.

Example: "The bees buzzed and hummed as they flitted from flower to flower."

Art of Sentence Structure 🏗️

How you structure your sentences can greatly affect the flow and impact of your prose. Here are some tips:

a) Use parallel structure: When listing items or actions, keep the grammatical structure consistent.

Example: "She came, she saw, she conquered."

b) Try periodic sentences: Build suspense by putting the main clause at the end of the sentence.

Example: "Through storm and strife, across oceans and continents, despite all odds and obstacles, they persevered."

c) Experiment with sentence fragments: While not grammatically correct, sentence fragments can be powerful when used intentionally for emphasis or style.

Example: "She stood at the edge of the cliff. Heart racing. Palms sweating. Ready to jump."

Power of White Space ⬜

Sometimes, what you don't say is just as important as what you do. Use paragraph breaks and short sentences to create pauses and emphasize important moments.

Example: "He opened the letter with trembling hands.

Inside, a single word.

'Yes.'"

Read Your Work Aloud 🗣️

One of the best ways to polish your prose is to read it aloud. This helps you catch awkward phrasing, repetitive words, and rhythm issues that you might miss when reading silently.

Edit Ruthlessly ✂️

Beautiful prose often comes from rigorous editing. Don't be afraid to cut words, sentences, or even entire paragraphs if they don't serve the overall beauty and effectiveness of your writing.

Study the Masters 📖

Please! Read widely and pay attention to how your favorite authors craft their prose. Analyze sentences you find particularly beautiful and try to understand what makes them work.

Practice, Practice, Practice 💪

Like any skill, writing beautiful prose takes practice. Set aside time to experiment with different techniques and styles. Try writing exercises focused on specific aspects of prose, like describing a scene using only sound words, or rewriting a simple sentence in ten different ways.

Remember, that developing your prose style is a journey, not a destination. It's okay if your first draft isn't perfect – that's what editing is for! The most important thing is to keep writing, keep experimenting, and keep finding joy in the process.

Here are a few more unique tips to help you on your prose-perfecting journey:

Create a Word Bank 🏦

Keep a notebook or digital file where you collect beautiful words, phrases, or sentences you come across in your reading. This can be a great resource when you're looking for inspiration or the perfect word to complete a sentence.

Use the "Rule of Three" 3️⃣

There's something inherently satisfying about groups of three. Use this to your advantage in your writing, whether it's in listing items, repeating phrases, or structuring your paragraphs.

Example: "The old house groaned, creaked, and whispered its secrets to the night."

Power of Silence 🤫

Sometimes, the most powerful prose comes from what's left unsaid. Use implication and subtext to add depth to your writing.

Example: Instead of: "She was heartbroken when he left." Try: "She stared at his empty chair across the breakfast table, the untouched coffee growing cold."

Play with Perspective 👁️

Experiment with different points of view to find the most impactful way to tell your story. Sometimes, an unexpected perspective can make your prose truly memorable.

Example: Instead of describing a bustling city from a human perspective, try describing it from the point of view of a bird soaring overhead, or a coin passed from hand to hand.

Use Punctuation Creatively 🖋️

While it's important to use punctuation correctly, don't be afraid to bend the rules a little for stylistic effect. Em dashes, ellipses, and even unconventional use of periods can add rhythm and emphasis to your prose.

Example: "She hesitated—heart pounding, palms sweating—then knocked on the door."

Create Contrast 🌓

Juxtapose different elements in your writing to create interest and emphasis. This can be in terms of tone, pacing, or even the literal elements you're describing.

Example: "The delicate butterfly alighted on the rusted barrel of the abandoned tank."

Use Synesthesia 🌈

Synesthesia is a condition where one sensory experience triggers another. While not everyone experiences this, using synesthetic descriptions in your writing can create vivid and unique imagery.

Example: "The violin's melody tasted like honey on her tongue."

Experiment with Sentence Diagrams 📊

Remember those sentence diagrams from school? Try diagramming some of your favorite sentences from literature. This can give you insight into how complex sentences are structured and help you craft your own.

Create a Sensory Tour 🚶‍♀️

When describing a setting, try taking your reader on a sensory tour. Move from one sense to another, creating a full, immersive experience.

Example: "The old bookstore welcomed her with the musty scent of aging paper. Dust motes danced in the shafts of sunlight piercing the high windows. Her fingers trailed over the cracked leather spines as she moved deeper into the stacks, the floorboards creaking a greeting beneath her feet. In the distance, she could hear the soft ticking of an ancient clock and taste the faint bitterness of old coffee in the air."

Use Active Voice (Most of the Time) 🏃‍♂️

While passive voice has its place, active voice generally creates more dynamic and engaging prose. Compare these two sentences:

Passive: "The ball was thrown by the boy." Active: "The boy threw the ball."

Magic of Ordinary Moments ✨

Sometimes, the most beautiful prose comes from describing everyday occurrences in a new light. Challenge yourself to find beauty and meaning in the mundane.

Example: "The kettle's whistle pierced the quiet morning, a clarion call heralding the day's first cup of possibility."

Play with Time ⏳

Experiment with how you present the passage of time in your prose. You can stretch a moment out over several paragraphs or compress years into a single sentence.

Example: "In that heartbeat between his question and her answer, universes were born and died, civilizations rose and fell, and their entire future hung in the balance."

Use Anaphora for Emphasis 🔁

Anaphora is the repetition of a word or phrase at the beginning of successive clauses or sentences. It can create a powerful rhythm and emphasize key points.

Example: "She was the sunrise after the longest night. She was the first bloom of spring after a harsh winter. She was the cool breeze on a sweltering summer day. She was hope personified, walking among us."

Create Word Pictures 🖼️

Try to create images that linger in the reader's mind long after they've finished reading. These don't have to be elaborate – sometimes a simple, unexpected combination of words can be incredibly powerful.

Example: "Her laughter was a flock of birds taking flight."

Use Rhetorical Devices 🎭

Familiarize yourself with rhetorical devices like chiasmus, antithesis, and oxymoron. These can add depth and interest to your prose.

Example of chiasmus: "Ask not what your country can do for you – ask what you can do for your country." - John F. Kennedy

Even the most accomplished authors continue to hone their craft with each new piece they write. Don't be discouraged if your first attempts don't sound exactly like you imagined – keep practicing, keep experimenting, and most importantly, keep writing.

Your unique voice and perspective are what will ultimately make your prose beautiful. These techniques are simply tools to help you express that voice more effectively. Use them, adapt them, or discard them as you see fit. The most important thing is to write in a way that feels authentic to you and brings you joy.

Happy writing, everyone! 🖋️💖📚 - Rin T

Hey fellow writers! I'm super excited to share that I've just launched a Tumblr community. I'm inviting all of you to join my community. All you have to do is fill out this Google form, and I'll personally send you an invitation to join the Write Right Society on Tumblr! Can't wait to see your posts!

[fairuzfan]

AMAZING article about what it means to participate in anti-Zionism work both online and in person.

If your anti-zionism does not in any way acknowledge that it is a way of thought and practice led by and for Palestinians, then you need to reevaluate your "anti-zionism" label.

Some passages that felt especially relevant to tumblr:

If we accept, as those with even the most rudimentary understanding of history do, that zionism is an ongoing process of settler-colonialism, then the undoing of zionism requires anti-zionism, which should be understood as a process of decolonisation. Anti-zionism as a decolonial ideology then becomes rightly situated as an indigenous liberation movement. The resulting implication is two-fold. First, decolonial organising requires that we extract ourselves from the limitations of existing structures of power and knowledge and imagine a new, just world. Second, this understanding clarifies that the caretakers of anti-zionist thought are indigenous communities resisting colonial erasure, and it is from this analysis that the strategies, modes, and goals of decolonial praxis should flow. In simpler terms: Palestinians committed to decolonisation, not Western-based NGOs, are the primary authors of anti-zionist thought. We write this as a Palestinian and a Palestinian-American who live and work in Palestine, and have seen the impact of so-called ‘Western values’ and how the centring of the ‘human rights’ paradigm disrupts real decolonial efforts in Palestine and abroad. This is carried out in favour of maintaining the status quo and gaining proximity to power, using our slogans emptied of Palestinian historical analysis.

Anti-zionist organising is not a new notion, but until now the use of the term in organising circles has been mired with misunderstandings, vague definitions, or minimised outright. Some have incorrectly described anti-zionism as amounting to activities or thought limited to critiques of the present Israeli government – this is a dangerous misrepresentation. Understanding anti-zionism as decolonisation requires the articulation of a political movement with material, articulated goals: the restitution of ancestral territories and upholding the inviolable principle of indigenous repatriation and through the right of return, coupled with the deconstruction of zionist structures and the reconstitution of governing frameworks that are conceived, directed, and implemented by Palestinians.  Anti-zionism illuminates the necessity to return power to the indigenous community and the need for frameworks of justice and accountability for the settler communities that have waged a bloody, unrelenting hundred-year war on the people of Palestine. It means that anti-zionism is much more than a slogan. 

[...]

While our collective imaginations have not fully articulated what a liberated and decolonised Palestine looks like, the rough contours have been laid out repeatedly. Ask any Palestinian refugee displaced from Haifa, the lands of Sheikh Muwannis, or Deir Yassin – they will tell that a decolonised Palestine is, at a minimum, the right of Palestinians’ return to an autonomous political unit from the river to the sea. When self-proclaimed ‘anti-zionists’ use rhetoric like ‘Israel-Palestine’ – or worse, ‘Palestine-Israel’ – we wonder: where do you think ‘Israel’ exists? On which land does it lay, if not Palestine? This is nothing more than an attempt to legitimise a colonial state; the name you are looking for is Palestine – no hyphen required. At a minimum, anti-zionist formations should cut out language that forces upon Palestinians and non-Palestinian allies the violence of colonial theft. 

[...]

The common choice to centre the Oslo Accords, international humanitarian law, and the human rights paradigm over socio-historical Palestinian realities not only limits our analysis and political interventions; it restricts our imagination of what kind of future Palestinians deserve, sidelining questions of decolonization to convince us that it is the new, bad settlers in the West Bank who are the source of violence. Legitimate settlers, who reside within the bounds of Palestinian geographies stolen in 1948 like Tel Aviv and West Jerusalem, are different within this narrative. Like Breaking the Silence, they can be enlightened by learning the error of colonial violence carried out in service of the bad settlers. They can supposedly even be our solidarity partners – all without having to sacrifice a crumb of colonial privilege or denounce pre-1967 zionist violence in any of its cruel manifestations. As a result of this course of thought, solidarity organisations often showcase particular Israelis – those who renounce state violence in service of the bad settlers and their ongoing colonisation of the West Bank – in roles as professionals and peacemakers, positioning them on an equal intellectual, moral, or class footing with Palestinians. There is no recognition of the inherent imbalance of power between these Israelis and the Palestinians they purport to be in solidarity with – stripping away their settler status. The settler is taken out of the historical-political context which afforded them privileged status on stolen land, and is given the power to delineate the Palestinian experience. This is part of the historical occlusion of the zionist narrative, overlooking the context of settler-colonialism to read the settler as an individual, and omitting their class status as a settler. 

It is essential to note that Palestinians have never rejected Jewish indigeneity in Palestine. However, the liberation movement has differentiated between zionist settlers and Jewish natives. Palestinians have established a clear and rational framework for this distinction, like in the Thawabet, the National Charter of Palestine from 1968. Article 6 states, ‘The Jews who had normally resided in Palestine until the beginning of the Zionist invasion will be considered Palestinians.’ When individuals misread ‘decolonisation’ as ‘the mass killing or expulsion of Jews,’ it is often a reflection of their own entanglement in colonialism or a result of zionist propaganda. Perpetuating this rhetoric is a deliberate misinterpretation of Palestinian thought, which has maintained this position over a century of indigenous organising.  Even after 100 years of enduring ethnic cleansing, whole communities bombed and entire family lines erased, Palestinians have never, as a collective, called for the mass killing of Jews or Israelis. Anti-zionism cannot shy away from employing the historical-political definitions of ‘settler’ and ‘indigenous’ in their discourse to confront ahistorical readings of Palestinian decolonial thought and zionist propaganda. 

[...]

In the context of the United States, the most threatening zionist institutions are the entrenched political parties which function to maintain the status quo of the American empire, not Hillel groups on university campuses or even Christian zionist churches. While the Anti-Defamation League (ADL) and the American Israel Public Affairs Committee (AIPAC) engage in forms of violence that suppress Palestinian liberation and must not be minimised, it is crucial to recognise that the most consequential institutions in the context of settler-colonialism are not exclusively Jewish in their orientation or representation: the Republican and Democratic Party in the United States do arguably more to manufacture public consent for the slaughtering of Palestinians than the ADL and AIPAC combined. Even the Progressive Caucus and the majority of ‘The Squad’ are guilty of this.

Leila Shomali and Lara Kilani

[nyahchan]

Ok, here we go. Cryptid x Reader, where the Reader is on a hike with friends and said friends prank the reader in a really mean way causing them to run off and start crying. The Cryptid stumbles upon reader crying and for some reason misinterprets this as reader seeking a mate and starts doing a mating dance thing that the reader starts out being confused by and a little scared but then they start giggling and think it's really pretty, but then that is misinterpreted as accepting the Cryptid and the Cryptid is soooo happy that this little human wants their eggs! And obviously the crying is just from nerves, so they'll just hum and sing until the get all sleepy and fuck their eggs into them. And they'll be so happy when the wake up safe in the Cryptid's nest and so full and pregnant!

Sorry if that was long and weird lol my brain just kept going.

A Cryptid's mate

Yandere cryptid x gn reader

TW:non-con, implied killing, toxic friends, attempted murder, monster fucking, somnophilia, extremely rough non-con, blood, breeding

Author's note:- you didn't specify the gender so I tried to write it in a way that any gender can read it with whatever pronouns as I made sure not to add any

For you guys see this

Humans are stupid and weird, they tell others to be careful of the red signs yet they themselves seem to ignore them.

You are unfortunately one of those foolish humans, you saw the signs yet you chose to ignore them, you knew better than anyone else that these people who stand in front of you laughing right now, calling themselves your "friends" are just wolves in sheeps's clothings. Your eyes start to blur as you remember being so excited when your "friends" asked you to go on a hiking trip with them, there was a slight voice in the back of your head, asking numerous questions about why they would suddenly ask you to hang out with them in an activity considering they never included you in anything, but you were naive and hopeful and you decided to agree.

During the hike, your "friends" kept on whispering to each other and giggling, you couldn't understand why until they reach the middle of the forest where suddenly one of your "friends" shoved you and another took your hiking bag and began rummaging through it, throwing everything on the forest floor.You couldn't understand why, you tried to tell them to stop, but they kept on snickering "There's a dangerous bug that fell in your bag from one of the trees!" said one of them as they threw all your belongings on the floor and then "accidentally" stepped on them. You tried to brush it off as a kind gesture that went wrong, you tried to smile through it but deep down you knew, they did it on purpose.

Now most of the items you had brought for the hike was ruined, your bag had mud on it as well as the items that didn't get ruined. You all continued walking through the forest, going deeper and deeper inside when you guys are met with a river with high current going downstream, there's a path over it to walk through. Your "friends" tell you to walk on the path first ,feeling pressured,you do exactly that but as soon as you do, one of them pushed you into the river,you see in the corner of your eyes that they are grinning as you fall into the river. Your immediate survival insticts start working and you grab onto a large stone in the river and push yourself out, your bag flowing down the river. You're gagging and choking on air as you frantically ask them why they did it and the only thing you get in response is "it's a prank relaxxx" but you can't anymore, tears run down your face, you eyes get blurry and without thinking straight , you run off to whatever direction your feet take you to, you don't look back, you don't look front either, you're vision too blurry from the tears as you cry and run, your wet clothes making lots of splashing noise as it hugs your body, your undergarments fully visible through your clothes now.

Before you know it, you're in the middle of yet another forest except here, there are no trail tracks for hikers, but you don't care, you're too busy crying at the thought that your own "friends" tried to kill you, you cry by yourself, or at least that's what you think as right behind you stands a strange creature, not human, but not full monster, a cryptid or whatever humans nowadays decide to call his specifies, but it looks human and for some reason, it's extremely handsome. The cryptid man watches you cry from behind, you're so drowned in sorrow that you don't even realize there's a monster man behind you. He watches you cry and ponders on what might be the reason for such an adorable little human to be crying all by themselves in his territory, the territory where cryptids live, the territory he rules, the territory far away from human knowledge?And then it suddenly clicks in his mind, you're crying because you can't find a mate. Good news for you, he's also looking for one!

The cryptid immediately jumps in front of you, making his presence known to you. You're immediately startled and frightened at the creature in front of you, you rub your eyes to wipe the tears away and take in the appearance of said creature, it's around 8 feet tall, is muscular, looks so weird yet also like a human, his face is chizzled and he looks so handso- you shake your head and then look at the creature with a look of terror, but that immediately turns to confusion as the cryptid starts doing this weird funky dance, to you, it's a goofy silly dance, to him, it's a mating ritual and the second you crack a smile and start giggling at his mating ritual, he thinks you have accepted his proposal, he's so happy that this cute little human wants to be his mate, he can barely wait in anticipation as he sees your wet clothes sticking to your absolutely delicious body! The cryptid immediately picks you up like paper and carries you even deeper into the forest, you start panicking and try to struggle in the creature's grip but it's futile. Upon seeing your struggle, the cryptid interprets it as you're probably just nerves, but that's okay! He can just hum and sing to you so you feel relaxed cause he needs to make sure his mate is relaxed as he's gonna get his little human pregnant with his seed! And so starts humming a song, occasionally singing it while he keeps taking you deeper and deeper into the forest, before long, you stop struggling and fall limp in his arms as you fall asleep. The cryptid is happy that you're finally relaxed as he places you in his lavish and comfortable nest.

Your clothes are no longer on your body, thrown somewhere in a forgotten corner. Your unconscious body spread apart as you're being split on his large girthy cock, all that can be heard is the wet clenching noises of his inhuman cock hitting deep inside you, slapping against your skin. He plays with your nipples, licking, turning and twisting them, earning a moan from your coma like sleep state. Moans escape your mouth so often even though you're asleep, he's glad that he decided to put you to bed before fucking and breeding your tiny little human body as you definitely would've gotten hurt otherwise as blood drips down from the skin that tore which was expected considering his cock is way too big, so girthy and meaty and the tip is like a mushroom. At one point, you wake up but the immense pain you feel immediately causes you to pass out. The cryptid kisses your lips as it feels itself nearing his release after 3 hours of constant abuse on your tiny body and within a few minutes, he ejaculates inside you, his eggs spilling so deep inside you, your stomach starts bloating a bit and then bloats a lot. You look absolutely divine , filled with his eggs! Although not all of them wi fertiloze, at least one or two will, and he's so excited to see his little human mate all round and pregnant with his spawns!

When you awaken again, you're lying on a fluffy nest, your eyes hazy, you feel dizzy, you feel heavier, you feel extremely sore and in pain to the point tears start trickling down your face, suddenly a pair of rough hands touch you from behind, one caressing your stomach while the other is caressing your face, wiping the tears off of it, you can't do anything but cry "I'm sorry, you must be in a lot of pain, there was lot of blood, don't worry I stitched you up" you wonder how this creature even knows human language, or where he got the tools for stitches or how he knew how to do it, your mind runs a 100 miles a second,youre too scared and exhausted to move so you just whimper when from the corner of your eyes, you spot familiar clothes, you recognize them immediately as the clothes of your "friends", your eyes widen as you see blood on those clothes and your eyes try to wander further to see the full scene but the cryptid immediately covers your eyes with one hand while the other is still caressing your bloates stomach, he coos in your ear "shh darling, you're still recovering, just relax and go back to sleep, you're gonna be a mother soon, you don't need to stress about anything, I got you new clothes as gift for taking my eggs so well, I just haven't washed them yet" is all you hear before passing out again. You're now stuck with this strange creature.

[malavera]

Logan vs Red — Headcanon

gahh.. Let me write for him one more today

smut! MDNI. period sex.

this man in fearless in everything and i mean EVERYTHING meaning bondage, bdsm, you name it

and of course, he’s never going to let a tiny blood in that time of the month is going to stop him from getting inside your juicy warm cunt

you and logan were making out

you both had gotten into it, the heat is getting stronger, the kiss turned sloppy

Clothes were thrown until it comes down to your panties and that’s when you remembered that you’re on your period

“wait Lo! we can’t. i’m on my third day of period.” you breathlessly spoke, grabbing his wrist to stop him from tearing away your panties

he leaned his forehead against yours, as you both stare at each other, chest heaves up and down anticipating what could’ve comes next

“you think a little blood will scare me away peach?”

you gotta admit, it kind of scared you a little bit because this TURNS YOU ON so much

your big bad wolf is such a menace with you

he tears away your panties, his eyes never leaving yours

you gasp softly when you could the rough pad of his thumb, toying with your clit

“come on peach, you know better now no matter what the circumstances is, if i need to fuck it, i’m going to fuck it.” you moaned

can you imagine him moaning to your moans? the way he lift his head moaning softly but his eyes never leaving yours

he gave your pussy a good time with his thumb before he gently unplug the tampon that is the only thing that’s blocking him

when you thought he was going to just ram it in

you thought wrong

logan gave himself a good time to really play with your pussy, gliding up and down against those pussy lips, his middle finger teasing the tiny hole that was once filled with the tampon

you’re a little bit embarrassed because if you were sane, you’d find this disgusting but finding logan’s very comfortable with it, makes you fall harder for him

you let out a loud gasp when you feel him digging his index and middle finger inside your cunt

logan looks down with his eyebrows scrunched and his eyes shut together

“ooh, peach. you’re so warm in here.” while slowly thrusting his fingers in and out

the room filled with nothing but the sound of your pussy being fucked with his fingers and your sinful moans

“aaah.. Lo- fuck that feels”

“good yeah?” logan is looking at you now in awe

“you want some more peach? huh?”

he curls and uncurls his fingers inside you in fast speed, just how you like it and damn it felt so good you’d almost came right there

“Look at me when i’m making you feel this good, peach.”

you opened your eyes, your mouth hung open, those sinful and beautiful moans flowing out like a river

“yeah there she is?” he smirk “who’s making you feel this good huh? that’s right. me.” he grunts as he goes even more faster

you’re feeling it, you’re almost there

and he knows thats why he pulls them out, earning a loud gasp from you as your body jolted forward from the surprised movement

but logan is nowhere near letting you down

he replaced it with his thick and heavy cock ramming it inside your oozing juice pussy

his eyes fluttered shut once his cock is welcomed in your warm cunt

“aaah.. yes.. so fucking good, peach”

“you like it don’t you baby?”

“it’s even more hotter like this right baby? me fucking your cunt who’s oozing blood.”

“rrgghh.. fuck. fucking love this pussy.”

“let’s make a mess baby.”

…..

don’t look at me y’all. idk what came over me. 😶‍🌫️

[kingkatsuki]

One more and then I’ll stop but like seriously imagine this hulking brute of a man preparing to mount his dragon to return home to his Kingdom after successfully pillaging another village. The loot strapped to the sides of the dragons as he stands victorious, covered head to toe in a sheen of drying blood that for the most part isn’t his.

And as he’s preparing to leave he notices something moving in the foliage out of the corner of his eye. Immediately reaching for his axe as he holds it up high, ready to strike— when he sees a small bunny rabbit struggling beneath a wicker basket. The poor animal looks injured, its paw a deep crimson that rivals his eyes and his first thought is to put it out of its misery and take it home as part of the feast.

But then he thinks of you, and the way you tremble in front of him much like the little rabbit in front of him now. Sliding his axe back into his belt as he crouches down to pick up the struggling animal, caging it in large palms as he holds it uncharacteristicly gently to his chest. Walking back to his dragon as his men call out to him.

“That’s barely a snack for a dragon, King.” Sero calls out, grinning from ear to ear as Bakugou shoots him a glare.

“Do you want me to put it with the rest of the food?” Kirishima offers as he reaches out to take the bunny by the ears.

“No,” Bakugou mutters gruffly, opening a sachel at the side of his beast as he places the rabbit gently inside. His men raise their brows but know better than to say anything as they take off, returning back home before nightfall.

The Kingdom is in celebration as the team return, gathering the spoils as a feast is prepared for tonight. And Bakugou decides to clean himself up before seeking you out, worried that if he found you covered in the blood of his enemies you’d never talk to him again. It was much like he looked the first time he found you; and he’ll remember that terrified look for the rest of his days.

Changing into fresh cloth and furs as he makes his way towards your room, and even though he’s trying to be respectful he still doesn’t knock. Stepping inside to see you curled up by a fire with a book that you quickly put down when you notice him, the tension in your body doesn’t go unnoticed by Bakugou who tries to be less intimidating. A difficult feat for a man who’s waged wars on nations, and spilt more blood than the rivers that flow outside the Kingdom.

He’s silent as he crouches, setting his sachel down in front of him as he opens it. Rough hands reach in to take out the quivering bunny rabbit, which you stare at with wide eyes.

“It reminded me of you.” He rasps, holding the animal out to you as you crawl over to him from your position in front of the fire. Gentle hands taking the rabbit from him as you hold him against your chest, soft fingers stroking at its fur.

“You’re not going to cook him after, are you?”

And Bakugou can’t help but smile at your question, it’s the first time you’ve seen him do so and it softens the strong frown lines against his face. His eyes rounder, fierce gaze less intense as he moves to sit on the floor beside you with thick thighs outstretched.

“He looked like he needed someone to look after him.”

[sashi-ya]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑹𝑰𝑶𝑹𝑺 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑼𝑵ㅤㅤ january free requestsㅤ ㅤ trafalgar law x f! reader

🕊️ request: @leftladyluminary ⋆｡˚ Hello ( ^ω^ ) I was wondering if I could request a Law x fem!reader exploring a temple together that turns out to be a uh “procreation” temple the strongly affects those who enter? Please and thank you~ （╹◡╹）♡ 🕊️ tw: mdni. raw, rough sex. vaginal. nipple play. pregnancy ideas implied. cream pie. wc: 1650 🕊️ masterlist

Zou is a humid place, very muddy as well. Your boots are dirty, and your clothing soaking wet. Those “Eruption Rains” become pretty inconvenient throughout the day, but they are necessary.

“I shouldn’t have worn a white shirt…” you tell Law, crossing your arms over your breasts.

“I would say you shouldn’t have worn it without a bra, (Name)-ya” Law says, squeezing and twisting his hat to drain it from the excess of water.

You sit down on a rock. Was it really necessary to say such thing? At best he should be a little bit happy to see your body through semi see through fabrics. What Law has just said felt painful to you, to say the least.

“You are right, I’m sorry” you mumble, walking away to find a proper place to hide and change your clothes. You are sure the ones in your backpack are as wet as your current ones, but something darker will do to cover up.

When the rivers formed in what are usually trails on top of Zuneesha’s back are finally dried, you find a very interesting construction ahead. Curious, as always, you come closer to discover it is a shrine.

“What a beautiful place” you comment in awe. Law seems to be anywhere else. He is probably near, but not close to you.

Curious, you put a step inside the shrine. It isn’t necessarily different from the rest of the temples you have attended in this long journey of piracy. However, somehow in the aura feels unusual to you.

The scent of incense smells more flowery, sweet, maybe even a little bit spicy. The Vitreaux windows create incredible depictions of Orchids on the ground, as the sun filters its rains through them. And the altar has a very distinctive little statue that calls for your hand to touch.

“I wonder what’s this shrine about? What god is meant to be built for?  In fact, do Minks have gods?” you ask yourself, making mental notes to ask Wanda once you are back from your expedition.

Your eyes scan the golden sculpture, it looks like two creatures tangled into each other. You would lie if you said you didn’t think of them having sex, and in fact you giggle for your “witty” thoughts.

There isn’t much to discover besides what you have just seen, but a little sign engraved in an old piece of wood.

“you shall keep your blood flowing; the warriors of the Sun must never disappear; they will fight for freedom and unity during this dark night”

You smile; and immediately after reading you remember Luffy. Even Law recognizes he is as shiny as the Sun itself. You don’t really think much of the true meaning of the sign, and soon after find Law looking at you from the very entrance.

“I turned around and you were gone, I didn’t know where you were” he asks, still soaking wet like a cat left out in the rain and looking a little bit mad at you for disappearing.

You could have picked a fight; you probably could have just brushed it off. But neither of those were your reaction, and unconsciously you lift your arms to stretch. The white shirt, still soaking wet, kept the transparency and with that the show off of your hard nipples presented to Law in its full beauty.

“I’m sorry, I was looking for a place to change” you tell him, with a rather sexy tone.

Law’s sun burnt cheeks turn red, golden eyes widening, pupils getting bigger. The little hints of black eyeliner smudge on his already dark tinted under eyes, the juicy pale lips of your captain slowly separating.

“You thought of changing on a shrine? Getting naked on a temple, (Name)-ya?” he asks, coming closer to you as he lets his yellow bag fall on the floor. Law walks like a snow leopard, slowly, menacing, sexily…

You swallow. That’s not his usual self, not at least with you. He looks like he is about to fight you, or even hurt you.

“L-Law, I wanted to put on a shirt over this one so that my breasts won-“ you shut up, as he strikes you and pins you against the altar.

You put your arms back to get a grip of something as you lose balance. Your hand reaches something cold and tiny and immediately after, his warm inked hand falls on top of yours.

Both, at the same time, touch the little statue behind and it feels like a new energy begins to run through your veins. It doesn’t take you long to finally succumb into a lustful, inappropriate kiss. His hands, all over your waist, lift the wet shirt that’s begun to get hot and too heavy on your skin.

“I have no idea what force is making me do this, but believe me I am not mad about it, (Name)-ya” Law whispers, in between panting and with his lips grazing yours.

“I have no idea either, but don’t you dare stop…”

The Surgeon of Death attacks your lips once again, this time while freeing you completely from your wet coverings… even if, something else in you was getting wetter by the moment.

Maybe it was the force of doing something so incorrect, so unholy on a sacred place… or maybe it was your love? Or even, both? Who knows, perhaps it was something else but the more you kiss, the more your bodies slide down until your back hits the red carpet covered floor.

Law’s tattooed hands squeeze and play with your breasts, almost like a beast ready to engulf his prey. “You wanted me to do this, don’t you?” he asks, reaching for one of your hard nipples, kissing the erected surface and then trapping it with his lips.

“Honestly, yes. I missed your touch…” you moan, realizing you are finally able to indulge in sex. It’s been long enough since you could touch each other, since you could be this intimate.

“I know, I’m sorry…” he whispers, planting a soft kiss on your chest.

You know there is nothing to forgive, and immediately after you notice his stitched arm holding the weight of his body on top of you.

“Law… can I be on top this time?” you ask, kissing the scar of his biceps.

His golden eyes shine brightly, apparently he loved the question and nods energetically, even if he felt embarrassed seconds after for doing so.

Soon, you take his place, undressing him faster and straddling your hips on his lap. He is hard, and the grey underwear completely soaked let nothing to the imagination. Deliciously tempting, you feel the impulse to your use your mouth before anything else, but the need of having him inside you is stronger… something invisible is making you desire his seed would fill your womb on and on and on.

You lift your ass from his lap, just a little for your hand to pass through your moved to the side panties and his hardness.

Law gasps when he understands you are not there to waist time on any other type of pleasure that his dick deep inside you.

“Now? but I don’t- I don’t have prot-“ he stutters, fighting in between the need of fucking you rough and reproduction health matters.

“You don’t really need it, I want you raw and rough in me…” you purr, guiding his sex towards your dripping entrance.

Your labia devours his tip, engulfing it with a warm slippery sensation. Law’s neck muscles tense, his head gets thrown back, a moan escapes his lips that resonates all over the shrine.

You do the same as you let yourself fall on top of him for his shaft to be finally entirely inside you. A whine so loud that mixes with his, and it becomes never ending as you start to hump on top of him.

Your hips move up and down, back, and forth and also in circles. Law’s fingers carve marks on the side of your hips and sometimes travel to the small of your back to press you against him with divine force. His hips, who up until now where immobile as pleasure struck him harder than he could ever expected, begin to move too.

“Nggh… let me fuck you faster…” he moans, using all of his strength coming from his core to impale you harder and synchronized to the rhythm of your jumps. The sound of wet sweaty skin slapping against the other become a sacred melody all around, while your nails carve marks as you grip from his heart tattooed pecs.

It doesn’t take you longer for your climaxes to arrive, and while your fingers intertwined with Law’s, your spasming walls milk him so violently… so needy, desperate for his release…

His frown intensifies, he even bites his lower lip but his eyes never shut as his pupils only fix into yours. As if his gaze was trying to anticipate something both knew, willingly to do whatever it takes to make his seed plant on you… deep, inside, of you.

“Fill me up…” “Keep it all inside…”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ...

“Wanda, may I ask you something?” you tap on her soft furry shoulder.

“Yes, honey. Tell me, what is it? Are you ok? You look very tired” the mink says, curious and perhaps a little worried about your state… truth Law wasn’t satisfied with just one round.

“So, I found a Shrine on the forest. It had a little statue; I didn’t get exactly what it was representing. But I remember reading a sign that said something about the warriors of the sun should prevail” you explain.

Wanda giggles. “Well, now I know why you are that tired… you went there with Trafalgar, didn’t you? it’s the procreation shrine, ruled by the sun lovers. That’s where we go to pray when we wanna bear children.. it said to be special forces that help us get pregnant”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ“Oh…”

[slickchickchocolatier]

Little Red Riding Hood - Finale.

Pairings: Jake and fem!y/n

Warnings: Werewolf Jake (should already tell you). Knotting, noncon/subcon smut, cnc (both rough and light), oral (fem receiving), smut, breeding kink, detailed smut, hints of murder, kidnapping yandere love.

Authors note: here we go part two (finale) of RRH. Again this is not proofread but I don’t think that matters. Enjoy!

Taglist: @strxwbloody @nshmrarki @aquariushiiiii @addictedtohobi @nuriicata @lilyuwon

You dropped the picture and quickly made your way back to the car. The driver was still nowhere in sight, which may have been in your favor considering the evidence discovered. You quickly turn the car around, figuring the best and quickest way to notify the authorities was to head back. Pulling up, you park the car in the driveway and rush inside. You picked up the phone and dialed the police, but the line was silent. You frantically dialed a series of numbers before slamming the phone back down. You rushed to the nearest neighbor and knocked on the door and carried over to the windows once you realized that no one was home. House to house, you knocked on every door in sight and still, no one was around–the entire neighborhood was empty. The moment seized you as you realized you were all alone. Discomfort rid you of all your calmness and you run back inside your grandmother's house, praying that she would return any second. You went up the stairs and tried the telephone in the master bedroom, but the line remained dead. “Shit!”

Your tenacity takes over as you continue to try dialing a series of phone numbers hoping that one of them would go through. Just as you were re-dialing your parents home phone, a creak from behind bolts a shiver down your spine. The door behind was opening. Your breaths begin to shutter as the realization hit that you were not alone inside the house. You froze—unable to turn as the rhythm of fear and anxiety stills you. You couldn’t even say a word or scream at this point.

You remained still. Too frightened to even be curious as to who was behind staring at you. “G-grandma?” You trembled, hoping to high hopes that you would get a response in her voice.

Slowly, you pivot on the heel of your foot and simultaneously lower the phone as you come face to face with the man across the room. Somehow, you were in disbelief even with him staring directly at you. Tears begin to form as you feel all sense of hopelessness. You frown hysterically as you watched a smirk appear on that handsome face. “J-Jake?—Wha-what are you doing here?”

A thousand questions riddle in your brain. A few teardrops turned into a river flow of sobs as you bestowed a pleading countenance. The blood curdling scream didn’t escape past your pursed lips until you dropped the phone, which is when he decided to strike at you. His movements were fast—too fast. He moved like a flash of light. Despite his rough handling, you got the hint that he didn’t have any intentions in hurting you—at least not that you could see for now. He shoved you over the old console table that was stationed in front of the large floor mirror propped in the corner of the room. “My poor girl. He gave you such a hard time, didn’t he?”

You furrowed your brows in confusion as he pinned your toned against the flat surface of the table. You turn your head to look back, expressing your bewildered state. You couldn’t even speak. The smile that permanently etched his face caught you off guard as he grinds his pelvis against your rear end. “Don’t worry. Daddy took care of him.”

You panic as you hear his words echo against the bedroom walls. Immediately, you realize his unlawful intentions as he shoves himself against you, reaching around touching you. “S-stop!”

He chuckles at your demand and sucks in your neck. “Tasty. You smell good too.” His leathered gloved hands trail upward and tugs on your dress, ripping it with ease. “Stop! Don’t!”

Reaching around your face, he cups your jaw and turns your face towards his. “You don’t really want me to stop, do you?”

Whether it was that smooth voice or his handsome gaze, somehow you lost your composure to express your displeasure. You froze, and so did your voice. He chuckles once more before sealing your lips in a deep and tender kiss. Breaking contact, his skin brushes against you as he whispers, “nah, didn’t think so.”

The tearing of whatever remained from your dress had you crying, yet his touch and kisses made you moan. You were conflicted between fear, despair, and pleasure. The more he kept doing, the more it had put you in turmoil. Especially when he kept huffing under his breath, telling you things that made your mind travel in circles.

Fuck, you smell so good. Your skin is so smooth. You’re mine. All fucking mine.

By the time he had you completely stripped, with only the small bit of tatters loosely draping your body, you caved in. The way his fingers moved and delicately tapped against your clit made you see stars. He was so good at it, no one could possibly blame you for how you reacted. “Yeah, baby? You fucking like that, hmm? Want me to eat you?” He whispers vigorously against your ear, further causing you to spiral downhill. “My pretty Red Riding Hood…let me take care of you. Fuck. Let me own you.”

Keeping his palm flat against your lower back, he presses down and stabilizes you. You remained still, knowing by his grip and aura that any movement would only result in chaos. Also, you found yourself not wanting to admit it, but you didn’t want to. With the way the tip of his nose trails down your spine and along the curve of your derrière, you found yourself craving more. The moment his nose grazed over your plush lips and exposed clit, your fingernails dig into the table. Your moans grow louder as he presses your cheeks together, keeping your thighs closed before he starts flickering his tongue at your womanhood. “Mmph! Stop! Fuck! Please stop!” You help out. Pleasure hits you like a bolt of lightning as you remain in denial. He doesn’t entertain in responding, instead he continues to emit long strokes of his tongue. The flat surface completely wipes you clean of your juices as he slowly licks from top to bottom, finishing off each swipe with the tip of it playfully digging into your nub. He did it so tenderly and smoothly, it was painful. “P-please!” You help as you slam your hands against the wood surface, yearning for more as he edges you on. The moment that caused your eyes to roll back was when he shoved his nose and mouth against the warm center and snarls. Chuckling deeply against your vulnerable spot made you feel things you never knew existed. “Oh! Oh my God! What are you doing to me—“

He chuckles once more, this time it nearly made you lose balance as your legs trembled. You found it hard to stand even with the support of the table under you. “Please—“

He snarls against your clit once more. “Yeah pretty girl?” His tongue pelts against your clit numerous times. In between he whispers in that accent of his. “Tell me you’ll be mine. Tell me you’ll be loyal.” He finishes off each demand with a squeezing kiss on your wet clit. Your breath hitches as you choke out each moan. “Hmm?” He mumbles while sucking on to your womanhood. Giving in, you nod hysterically as the tear drops fall before you, decorating the mahogany finish.

The sound of his belt unbuckling, his zipper coming undone, and his shirt being discarded had your heartbeat come to a pause. Half naked, his trousers loosely remain on as he brings out the gift of his build. You didn’t see it, even looking at the mirror in front. But the way he dragged it against the lining of your vaginal opening made you well aware that he was large. The tip alone was wider than your wrist. You shivered under his palm as you felt him breaching your entry. “Shh-sh-sh-shh.”

His shushing does nothing to clam you. The second he pokes in, you squirmed with regret. You shout out of how you changed your mind and that you wanted him to stop, but he pays no mind and keeps entering. The friction alone was enough to cause you to faint, but when he found himself half way in he scoffs. “Almost there.”

Your eyes enlarge. How could he still have more length to push in? There was no way you would be able to survive, he was already so deep. You try to push back and do everything you could to escape, but it was no use. With him hunched over your backside, pinning your wrists to the table, he coos you by whispering into your ear as you were forced to take in inch after inch. Finally, with the tip felt in the deepest part of you, he calmly stroked your hair as he guides you to breathe. You pant under the pressure of being stretched and torn open, yet he continues to be calm despite how tight your walls hugged him. “Breathe baby, breathe. That’s it. Aww…that’s my girl.”

You do exactly as he instructed, feeling some sort of relief as he begins to pull out. Yet when he has all but the tip nestled inside you, he jams it back in mercilessly. You scream out as your head jolts up. He keeps you steady as he pinches his grip against your waist and holds you in place as he makes you take in every single thrust. His hips move back and forth, stalling into you. Skin on skin, the slapping movements echo in the room, doing something to your mind as the thought of him doing the most unspeakable matches with the rhythm. It sends a tingle to your core and before you know it, your body responds by aiding him in his resolve. “Yeah that’s it. Get wet for me baby. Makes it easier for me to fuck you.”

He goes in deeper with each thrust, punching a soft spot that causes you to gush. It coats his lengthy muscle, making it more slick as he finds it easier to fuck into you. You pant and moan in satisfaction, yearning for more as he shoved the combined efforts of sweat and squalene back inside you, mixed with his precum. His pace picks up faster and faster, when suddenly he pauses as he buries his cock deep inside. You look up in the mirror, shaking and pitifully murmuring out with a pleading tone. “P-please…not inside…”

His eyes shift from admiring your derrière to staring back at you through the mirror. He laughs handsomely as he notes how beautiful you look in your disheveled state, all within his grasp. “That’s not how this works, pretty girl. I told you…”

He stretches his neck from left to right, squinting his eyes shut as he expresses relief. “You’re mine.” His voice became deeper. His grip becomes tighter. There was shallow wind breezing through yet the windows remained closed. The curtain was open, revealing a full moon that shined against your skin. Dripping from his mouth, large amount of drool stains your backside as you watched through the mirror. Something unruly was happening. Something abominable.

You tried to move away and release yourself from his grasp but the pain of his claws digging into you restrains you. They grew longer and his hair grew shaggy. His face morphs into something unreal as you watched in horror of the final product. He was jet black all around with ears that resembled the devil's horns. They were propped and sitting atop his large head, which resembled a wolf. His stature maintained a humanoid structure, defined by lean muscles and a combination of soft fur and smooth skin. You wiggle in pain as you feel his throbbing member swelling inside you. “Ah! Stop! Let go! What’s happening!?”

A clawed hand shoots up and around, covering your mouth. He suppresses your screams as he begins thrusting. This time, he truly was tearing into you as the shaft became terribly swollen and thick. His tip was even thicker. He picks up the pace and hits your spot multiple times, and your body betrays you once more as you felt yourself gaining pleasure mixed with pain each time he pushes into you. Your screams become prolonged moans as you watched the creature pelt into you from behind through the grand mirror. His eyes never breaking eye contact with you.

He keeps going, compelled to destroy your walls as he squelches his massive length inside. You reach up and pitifully latch onto the monstrous hand that covers your moans. He keeps his hold, gaining leverage as he forces you to raise your head, arch your back, and prop your perky rear in the air—allowing him more access to breed you. You find yourself conflicted once more as the feeling of getting fucked into oblivion takes over and eradicates your better judgement. This monster—this creature…it’s not human. Nothing about him is. Yet you found yourself wanting him to keep going and to do more. You wanted him to do it over and over again.

Watching the creature thrusting into you with the thought of him giving it to you forever sent a burning sense of desire in your core. Your nerves heat up and your muscles tightened. Your womanhood becomes more lubricated each time he thrusts inside and suddenly you yelp out a high pitched moan into his palm as you feel yourself coming undone. With your walls pulsating against his cock, he picks up the pace and goes even faster. The sound of his inhuman form slapping against you only made things more intense as you felt yourself creaming around his circumference. At the very bitter end of your orgasm, you hazily watched under half closed lids as the monster buries himself deep inside you one final time and howls at the full moon. He was cumming inside you.

Panting ferociously with animalistic tendencies, he loosens his stance and leans over you, resting his weight against your backside. He was heavy and dense, but he made sure to not completely release his massive size on you, avoiding breaking your spine. He growls and pants against your ear. Despite being so primitive, his clawed hands cradle over yours as he sniffs and licks your ear. You shutter at the act as it felt no different than a dog. Still, his humanness shows through as he rubs his thumbs over the back of each hand, comforting you. You attempted to move but found yourself stuck. You’re not sure if you were entirely confused, pleased, or mortified, or maybe all of the above. He was swollen and stuck inside you. You couldn’t pull him away.

You realized that the act of breeding-tie was being conducted as his cock continued to deep out his cum deep inside you, swelling itself to remain in to ensure successful breeding. Perhaps it was giving up the fight, but realizing what he was doing didn’t cause you to cry or become mortified. Instead, you laid calmly and continued to take on the beast's pants against your skin. Is this what giving up felt like?

The breeding tie lasted for hours. Finally, after he had returned to his human form, the beast—or rather, Jake, took his clothes and quickly dressed himself. He took your grandmother's sheet and adorned you as if you were a goddess. With inhuman strength, he carried your limp body and stowed you in the backseat of his car. You heard the doors secure as he starts the ignition. You were so tired and lifeless—so work out from the unspeakable act carried out earlier, you didn’t have the energy to even speak. All you could do was look up and watch through the window, the glorious full moon peering form the night sky as he drives off. Occasionally, he reached behind his seat, gently caressing your face. With a soft chuckle, he would whisper “all mine.”

……..

“Where are you going sweetheart?”

You snap your head back, flashing a subtle smile. “Hm? Oh–i’m just going to this interview about the job at the local library. I’ll be back in an hour or two.”

Your dad raises a brow and takes a side glance over at the clock. “This late?”

“Mmhmm.” you respond as you slip on your shoe. “The interviewers gave out time slots, mine is at 4 pm.”

Your dad sighs. Reaching into his pocket, you hear the jingling of the key ring as he tosses them your way. “Take my car.”

You chuckle aloud. “Dad, I’ll be fine. I don’t want to worry about parking.” You attempt to return the keys back, but his insisting tone becomes more assertive as he explains about the recent happenings circulating the media reports. “Take my car–the library is ten miles out. I don't want you taking an uber either.” he looks at you sternly as he pushes your hand away, prohibiting you from giving back the key ring. “You know they still haven’t found that girl, right? The one who disappeared on her way to her grandmother’s house.”

You nod in response. “Yeah I know.”

He gingerly cups your cheek and softens his tone. “Take my car, it will put my mind at ease.”

You smile and nod. “Okay. thank you daddy.”

He wishes you luck as you exit the door. You set the address in the gps and maneuvered out of the long driveway and headed towards the main road, when suddenly your gps pops a notification, alerting you of traffic congesting the main road. Seeing that it would cause a delay, you decided to not risk missing out on the interview. You accept the recommended shortcut and follow the path which takes you on the backroad. Taking it easy, you maintain moderate speed. The overcrowding bush of trees surrounding the road accentuated the narrowness of the road, causing a slight sensation of uneasiness in your chest. At first you figured that you’d soon pierce through to the other side of town, when a heavy fog sets, thick enough to blot out the sunlight. You kept up with the route, figuring it would be best to turn around. Yet the absence of alternative pathways prevented you from doing so. The road became too small for you to do a u-turn without the risk of backing into the ditch that railed both sides of the route. Sticking to the route, you hoped that you would see light, or some other form of manmade feature. However, the deeper you went in, the more you felt yourself going away from modern civilization. There was no farmland, no street lights, buildings or houses–not even a single street sign.

The beeping from the dashboard notifies you of low gas. “Shit!” you whisper under your breath. You could have sworn that the tank was half full when you pulled out of the driveway. Checking your phone, you also noticed that your battery was at low percentage–too low. “What the hell?”

Strange, considering you were sure that the bar read at least forty percent when you left the house. You start to panic as you push through, when finally you see some lighting at a distance. “Oh my God! Finally.”

You pull up at the grand estate. The iron fence was tall and elegantly decorated by the blushing rose vine that was in full bloom. Fortunately the fence remained partially opened– looked to be by accident. Normally you knew better than to trespass so rudely, however, given the circumstance, this constituted an emergency. With no gas and a phone on the verge of dying, you needed help. Perhaps the owners would be understanding.

Your breath pauses as you pull further in and notice the enormous structure of the estate. It could hardly be called a mansion, considering that it resembled the palace of Versailles–both in size and aesthetic appeal. The gardens surrounding were well kept and the statues were pristine. “Wow…” you breathed out as you drove the car up to the front.

You walk up to the large entrance. Could someone possibly live here? You hoped that someone was inside, considering that this looked to be more of an establishment versus a home. The dim lighting gleaming through one of the windows up on what appeared to be the third floor gave you some hope. There wasn’t a doorbell, so you hoped that it was too intruding for using the heavy iron door knocker. It was large, and quite heavy, but you managed to admit three knocks as quietly and gently as possible. A few minutes went by and you wondered if it would be rude to admit three more, when suddenly the latch on the door begins to turn and the clicking sparks your relief.

You watch as the door opens and reveals an older gentleman, dressed elegantly in a suit with no jacket. Just a silk vest with a white button up paired with well pressed trousers. His shoes were of fine leather and shined without any blemish, and his hair neatly combed. “May I help you?”

You gulped at the tranquil tempo of his words as he spoke in a calm voice. “Um yes–I’m sorry to bother but I was wondering if you had a telephone I may use? My car ran out of gas and my phone is out of battery. I also seem to be lost.”

The gentleman, who appeared to be a butler of the estate, raised a brow as he darted his eyes between you and the car. “How did you manage to get here? You must be so far from home.” he questions, developing a concerned look as he waits for you to answer. You were confused, seeing as how you were only on the road for about twenty minutes, not at all too far from your parents house. “No, I live in town. I took a shortcut due to traffic.”

The elder man nodded. “I see.” He lets you in, and paves the way with his steady hand as he displays such courteous manners of respect and elegance. “Come in, please. I’m afraid we do not have a telephone, but you may stay a while to charge your cell-u-lar phone.”

It was no guess as to why this house wouldn’t have a telephone. At first it confused you, yet by the way he nearly spelled out the word “cellular”. If the owners were anything like this man, they were farther away from modernization than you could imagine. At least you were smart enough to have a charger and charging block with you. “Thank you.” you respond.

“Come with me, I’ll take you to a room where you can unwind and charge your phone. I’ll have madam bring you some tea.”

You thank the man. You felt overwhelmed by the sensational service he was providing, considering you weren’t an official guest. Following close by, you admired the grand features of the home. It was incredible. The architecture design was heavy on the traditional European taste, expressing the delicacy of mirrors, gold trimmings, crystal chandeliers, and arched hallways. The floor was made of glossy tile that was adorned by a fresh velvet rug that trailed the entire length of each area. You wanted to inquire more about the place but figured it would be too impeding since you were already intruding unannounced.

He halts abruptly, causing you to nearly bump into him. You were about to ask if everything was alright considering you both stood in the middle of the hallway. “Before we venture further, I must ask you to be as quiet as you can. My master is taking his nap, he must not be woken up. He gets…cranky.”

You chuckle softly, assuming the butler was referring to a child. “I understand. I know how children can be.” you spoke out presumptuously. The butler merely nodded and continued to lead you to a study. It was beautifully lavished with dark mahogany and velvet green accents with leather furnishings. A balcony presented black french doors that remained open to let the warm breeze in. “Wow…” you breathed out.

“There are outlets on each wall, you may use any one you like. Please have a seat and make yourself comfortable, madam will be in with some tea for you. Is there anything else you may need?”

You shake your head. “Oh no–thank you! You’re very nice. I will be fine, as soon as I am able to get a hold of my father I’ll be leaving. I am so sorry to bother you.” He remarks your gratitude with a small smirk. “It is not bothersome at all. It’s been many years since this household has received any guests, your presence is most welcome. Please let me know if there is anything else I can assist you with, and please remember…” he gently opens the door and looks back “about my master.”

You nod and assure that you will refrain from making any noise, and watch as the butler takes his leave.

Your phone starts to charge and you take a moment to look around the study. It was huge. Larger than most living rooms that you would find in common households, or even luxury ones. No doubt about it, this building puts the lifestyle of the rich and famous to shame. As you admired the beautiful wall trimming, you noticed a portrait on the next wall, mounted near the corner and across the magnificent desk. The large photo caught your eye as you closely admire the handsome man featured. Dressed well with beautiful auburn hair, his asiatic features stare deep into your soul as you breathe out. You’re not sure if you ever saw someone more attractive in your life. Since it was only a portrait, you wondered the effect this man would have had you met him in person, considering the photo alone was enough to make you weak in the knees.

You become lost in translation as you continue to stare at the framed piece when suddenly your phone rings loudly. “Shit!” you panicked as you raced across the room to shut off the ringing feature, completely forgetting that it was not on vibrate. It was your father calling. Afraid that the noise of your ringtone had awakened the baby, you answered and spoke quietly into the phone, cautiously looking at the door in hopes that the butler wouldn’t return upset over you waking his “master”.

“Hello? Daddy?” you answer and speak as quietly as you could, partially whispering as you cup around your mouth. Nothing but static on the other end. You peel your face away and look at the screen, only to find that there was no service. There was also no wifi. Great.

The visit to this luxury estate was a waste of time, and you tried to figure out the next step. Perhaps the butler has gas in one of the vehicles? Or maybe he can give you a ride to town?

You played around with your phone, waiting for the butler to return and seeking out a resolve to this predicament, when suddenly the corner of your eye catches on to something bright. It was warm and lightened the entire room. “What….what's that?” your tone expressed an enchanted curiosity as you leaned head in first, taking in the sight of a pedestal table with a large glass bell jar stationed at the center. It looked like a rose. The petals were made of fine crystal, appearing almost like large diamonds as they reflect a blush pink color, while the stem was made of pure gold and piqued its appeal. It dazzled, despite having no outside light to aid its glow.

Distracted by the lonesome ornament, you stood in awe. The bedazzling item had you in a hypnotic state that you remained unaware of the horned beast that lurked from the dark corner, admiring your gaze and posture. Another pretty treasure for him to keep inside a bell jar, or so it would appear. But this story will have to wait, for it is a tale as old as time…

[pwinkprincess]

hii! i see you’re back! hope everything’s okay 🫶 tumblr has been crazy with the links so i understand the break. i was wondering if you could write pussydrunk choso basically a longer version of your safe word fic except reader enjoys it lol thanksss

“i-i need it, baby. fuck i need to cum in this pussy.” choso’s rambling in your ear as he fucks into you. he has already came inside of you twice, but with choso’s stamina and desperacy you know he could go until he’s practically shooting blanks.

“i know, baby. go ahead, ‘s your pussy.” in response to your words, choso lets out a whine. he lowers his lips to yours, the two of you begin a messy make out session. your tongues slide into each other's mouths while you two whine and moan out.

both your arousal and choso’s cum is flowing out of your pussy like a river. both liquids coming out of you create an obscene squelch every time choso smacks his hips against yours. 

“need you on top of me, please.” he’s pulling out of you and flipping you over before you could even give him a solid response. you let out a drawn out gasp when he rubs the tip of his dick against your clit a few times before completely sliding inside of you. the both of you stare at each other’s faces as you moan to each other.

he grabs you by the neck with two hands, it’s not enough to hurt but just enough to hold you in place while rocks his hips up. you can’t do anything but wrap your hands around his wrists, even though it's truly no use since he keeps his hands firm around you.

“fuck, fuck, fuck.” you repeat as you bounce yourself on your boyfriend’s cock. everything feels so good, your mouth opens in an ‘o’ as the tip of his dick brushes against your walls. 

“‘m so fucking sensitive, not gonna last long.” he warns you. his voice has taken a more whiney tole. his eyes have grown more lidded while his pale skin is flushed red.

he lets go of his embrace around your neck, his clingy hands grab onto your breasts for a few seconds. he grabs and pinches them causing high moans to escape from you. his eyes searches for yours as his hands go lower. one hand rests on your hip while the other goes to your clit. you gasp his name from the added sensation.

“chooo!” you pant his name. your back arches deeper, your breasts are directly in his face now. choso can’t stop himself from wrapping his lips around one of your nipples. his eyes shut as he lightly bites down on it. “cumming一ah!” your orgasm sneaks onto you both. you chant his name like a mantra while your pussy clenches around his dick, making a creamy mess on it.

he let’s go of your nipple, a thin line of spit follows and he breaks it. “shit.” he curses. he swiftly wraps his arms around your mid back, he pushes you against his chest. you’re still a bit woozy and can only lay there as he adjusts you like some sort of doll.

he plants his feet down onto the mattress. a series of moans rip from your mouth as he begins pounding up into you. he’s so fast and rough, all you could do is lay your head on his shoulder and take it.

“mngh!” you struggle to say any words and can only make noises. 

the room fills with his pelvis slapping against your ass. his thrusts are almost punishing, you don’t know if you want to scramble away or feed into it.

“gonna cum.” he whines out. his thrusts quickly become sloppy and uneven as he nears his orgasm. he grows more vocal the closer he gets. “pussy’s so fucking good. fuck, shit, ah!” he rambles as he fills your cunt with his thick cum. you can only hum tiredly at him while he fills you up.

the two of you lay still for a minute or two. choso’s breathing heavy under you, your eyes are sleepily fluttering. as you approach falling asleep, you abruptly awoken by choso giving you a soft thrust.

“one more, baby, please?”

[daddyhausen]

｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ 「 PENTAGRAMS IN THE NIGHT SKY 」 ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

「 MASTERLISTS 」 | 「 BAND/MUSICIAN MASTERLIST 」 | 「 VESSEL MASTERLIST 」

「 COMMISION INFO 」 | 「 LIKE MY WORK? BUY ME A COFFEE — KOFI — DXDDYHXUSEN 」

｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

「 SUMMARY 」 — he waits in the shadows for your nightmares to paralyse you, to claim you body and soul all for himself.

「 WARNINGS 」 — 18+ [ MINORS DNI ] smut, somnophilia, dubcon, cnc, dom!vessel, sleep paralysis, demon!vessel, forced breeding, forced pregnancy, breeding kink, oral sex [ female receiving ] nipple play, biting, blood, fingering, multiple orgasms, male + female orgasms, internal cumshots, rough sex, unprotected sex, squirting, vaginal creampie

「 WORD COUNT 」 — 3k

「 PAIRING 」 — fem!reader x vessel

「 GENRE 」 — smut

｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

「 TAGLIST 」 — @thewrestlingbitch @omg-im-such-a-masochist @bayleymania @wardlow @alexisquinnlee-bc @sammiejane22 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @omegasluvbot @melissahausen @writtingrose @drummergrl1310 @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @bonehead-playz @legit9thlunaticwarrior @crowleysqueenofhell @romanreigns-supreme @janetreader @thenerdybaker523 @sunshinevirus @nicoleveno14 @rubyred1980 @harmshake @igncrxntripley @ripleyswhore @embermdk @thepalaceofmelanie @seeingstarks @kennysbadkitten @darkangelchronicles @ripleyswife @selena-tyler-564 @auburnwriter @alyyaanna @nightmare-viper

「 COMMENT IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST 」

you could feel it, the burn, flames sticking to your skin, melting the flesh and surfacing the bone underneath. the ache, the red of the fire, how it burned angry, vengeful against your fragile, weakened body. in between the flamed streaks laid the remains of what you’d once called a home, only mere smoke and ash now, and in there laid your burning body, trapped underneath rubble, blackened with soot. you could see yourself, outside of yourself as a third person looking in, a most ungodly sight to behold. and the wisps and crackles of the flames did nothing to quell or soothe your panic, only heighten the vicious sight before you.

your eyes shot open in a daze, a shaky gasp parting from chapped, dry lips. trying so desperately to quiet your mind, remove the nightmare from your thoughts, your skin still heated but was not burned, flesh and bone still intact. you let out a small sigh of relief, upon the realisation that you were unharmed, attempting to wipe the sweat that accumulated on your brow, only to find your arm numb, stuck to its position on the bed beside you, no matter how much you jolted and twitched it remained the same. your heart began to race, thumping hard against your chest like the crash of thunder that rang ever so often outside your bedroom window. you were asleep still, you knew that, put something about this predicament seemed far too real even for your standard of dreaming.

the left side of your bed dipped with a foreign weight, a hand came into view. inky jet black fingers met your viewline, palms rough and callouesed, intricate veins flowed like rivers on the back of the palm and up the forearm, pulsing softly as fresh blood flowed through them. it was a strong arm, masculine no doubt. rings adorned the slender fingers of the strange hand, ones of silver that shined against the black obsidian of the skin. you felt them, so gentle as they traced delicate lines across your skin, almost hesitant in their touches, you lay there, numb and unmoving, watching them shake and twitch as a thumb swiped the sweat from your forehead.

“don’t fear little dove, it was only a nightmare”

the voice was deep and coarse, the twinge of a british accent on the end of his words that made your stomach churn with worry. the words rang sinful from his lips, as his hand ran down your cheek, caressing the warm, mortal flesh. a face came into view…more so a masked one. one of pearly white, traced with gold and rubies that of blood red adorned around the maw. slits in his mask covered his eyes, three to be exact on each side, obscuring them from your vision, only the lower half of his face exposed, soft pouty lips outlined a row of sharp teeth, the canines the most prominent. he smiled, showing them off, looking as if he was about to take a bite out of you at any second.

he would notice the subtle twitch in your movements, how your fingers would shudder every few seconds trying to get a better grip on reality, while the remainder of your body laid frozen in place, paralysed by the weight of your own dream, or was this still your nightmare? his hand remained stagnant on your cheek, every few seconds, taking the time to swipe his thumb across the flesh gently, in soothing circles. your eyes welled with tears, in obvious fear, unsure exactly who or why this strange man… or whatever he was, was looming over you so omnipresently, so…domineering.

“now i know you're afraid, little dove, but i can assure you i bring you no harm” he noticed the tears streaming down your cheeks

“no no…do not cry…”

you could see his pupils dilate behind the slits of his mask, how the shroud would fall over the top if it, shielding them from your gaze.

“relax little dove. the paralysis is only temporary”

his eyes darkened momentarily, keeping the outstretched hand stagnant on your cheek, his thumb adjusting itself only to wipe away stray tears, an inky streak leaving stains in the corners of your eyes from where his flesh made contact.

yet you could not relax. how could you? your mind was wide awake yet your body frozen in time, and to make it worse, this large domineering…thing… you could hardly call him a man despite his corporeal form being akin to one, practically levitated above you.

he noticed the ink smear across your cheek, a primal sensation grew in his belly, something about it felt so primative, so raw to him, a piece of him left behind on your mortal flesh. he was only supposed to provide comfort in your weakest hour. to comfort your mind when your body could not. yet…he wanted to provide more, relax where your fingers could not reach, soothe with words your tongue could not provide.

“little dove…forgive me…”

his body ever looming over yours, growing closer as he brought himself in. his lips painfully close to yours, tongue teasing your cupid’s bow with the words he spoke.

“but i must..i need to”

his lips fan over yours before meeting. your eyes widen with the sudden contact, flickering wildly, still trying to adjust the the sight of him under the dull moonlight, just the flicker of his mask, a milky pearl in colour, even more so up close, and the reds like garnets and specks of gold leaf reflect in your eyes.

his maw opened, revealing sharp canines that prodded at your bottom lip leaving indentations in their wake as they parted, tasting the cherry and cream of your lip balm with a shudder. despite the interaction, despite your lack of say or movement in the matter, you couldn't help but melt into the kiss, the stubble wafts of his breath fluttering against your skin as he pulled away, observing the swollen red petals with lustful adoration. how despite parting, your lips still connected by a thin lips of spit. he hummed at the sight, licking the inky blacked-out curve of his cupid’s bow, savouring the subtle cherry flavour on his tongue.

he shifted his weight. his thighs resting dangerously close to your cunt, nestled against your inner thigh. despite your warmth being shielded by your panties, you could still feel the coolness of his skin, touch featherlight, feeling like light snowflakes against your flesh. you let out a small whimper, it was the only thing you could do in your semi-stasis state. vessel’s ears pricked up at the sound, with a soft hum.

“hmm? you like that my little dove?”

his words like velvet in her ears, drawing out any semblance of rational thought you had left. he left you entranced, enraptured, entwined by the silk ropes of his tongue. he pressed his knee against your clothed cunt, swirling against it slightly. your cunt pooled with warmth, slick with arousal for the strange demon that resided above you.

“oh…so wet already…mmm, didn’t think you’d submit so easy, my sweet”

his voice rumbled deep within his throat, evident by the way his throat contorted with a goan. his cock growing hard behind the confines of his shrouds, the appendage pressing, throbbing against the thin fabric. your stomach swirled with desire in spite of your mind resisting, failing to miserably.

“need to feel your flesh on my tongue…” his fingers raked down from your cheek, a hand shaky in their movements. trailing cautiously down, featherlight touches only separated your skin from his by your shirt. he let the fabric mingle with his skin, savouring the sensation as his palm ghosted across the peak of your breast, feeling the supple mound, groping it, squeezing it, eventually revealing them from beneath the fabric.

“so divine…” he muttered through clenched teeth, trying to stifle a moan as your breasts became revealed before him. your nipples perked and stiffened as the winter chill graced them. behind the mask’s vessel’s eyes widened, he’d never witnessed a woman reverared with such beauty before. he felt the need to fall to his knees before, worship your body with his tongue, repent and relinquish himself solely to you.

“a goddess baring herself before me…”

vessel’s throat tightened with a gulp, his breath teased your nipple, tongue barely jutting out to hesitantly lick at the peak, the bud glistening with his spit under moonlight. he noticed the subtle eye roll on your behalf, noticing you could not do more than moan and whine. he smiled. a devilish one at that, one that boarded on the like between endearing and threatening, one that showed his canines on full display. he had you firmly under his tongue.

“my dear…i shall revel in your flesh…i shall show you no mercy”

he gave another lick to your nipple, wrapping his lips around the perky bud, sucking greedily like a fawn feasting at its mother’s teat. his tongue swirled around the bud, a hand wrapped around the mound of your breast, massaging the soft flesh, his cock hardening, standing fully mast in his shrouds, throbbing against your inner thighs.

“i shall not adhere to your cries…and you shall enjoy it”

his free hand was quick with its movements. shuffling past the barrier of your panties, a evident wet spot present. it did not surprise him, you’ve already proven submissive enough already. his inky digits part your folds, slick with your own wetness as he explores deeper.

“mmm” he hums, feeling the stretch of your cunt around his fingers.

“so wet… so warm…”

your eyes widen at the sudden intrusion, your cunt clenching instinctively to forcibly eject him out, although your attempts proved futile, it only aroused vessel further. in response, he sunk his fingers deeper, thumb drawing rough, rigid shaped against your sensitive clit.

“you dare reject me…? oh little dove…” his words mutter against your breast, the flat of his tongue rippled against your nipple with every syllable.

“your rejection only fuels my desire”

he bares his teeth, clamping down around your breast. enough to cause a substantial amount of pain, yet your body’s lack of response and overall paralysis only emphasises his statements. he pulls away with haste, removing his teeth, indentations litter with small specks of crimson in their wake, his teeth stained with that same iron-flavoured sweetness, he licked them clean, savouring the taste.

“you’re lucky, sweet thing, that i did not split your pristine skin more…” he was breathless from the sudden blood-rush.

“but oh gods i wish i did…you’re so…intoxicating…”

his teeth bared again with another sinister smile.

“but i shall hold my tongue…i have plenty of time to sample you again”

the lanky digits of his right hand hooked into your panties, shuffling them down your motionless legs with intense vigour, grool clinging to the fabric, cunt soaked in wait for him. vessel stifled a grunt, his lips parting as his tongue spread across his bottom one.

“gods…” his voice barely above a whisper, muttering subtle curses and praises simultaneously. how you tease and tempt him with your luscious thighs and dripping void, yet he’s so willing to accept the offer, inviting himself into your warmth, drowning in your wetness. he could die happy, your mortal flesh consumed by him.

“now i claim you, for you have presented yourself so willingly to me…”

vessel monologues, the sound of his voice drowned out by other senses. fear and panic overriding your being. he spoke so surely that you were willing to engage with him so frivolously, when in fact he was the one manoeuvring your figure, oddly gentle yet careless at the same time.

“oh and i will enjoy tainting your flesh, my love…” he began to free himself from the confines of his shrouds.

“every waking moment, every dream-filled night, you let your mind drift and you shall warm your loins to the thoughts of me”

his voice, a growl, animalistic and primal. his cock now freed, blackened by the same ink that stained the rest of his body, it prodded at the supple meat of your inner thigh, moving towards your folds, gathering your wetness on the tip of it. he shuddered, the sight almost too much for him, his cock twitching with primal desire. in an instant you felt so full. vessel made no attempt to ease himself inside. the stretch burned, your cunt not fully lubricated to take him with the force and speed he provided. you went to scream, however the paralysis reminded you that your throat had been forcibly shut, vocal chords shredded.

“fuck…” he growled, almost buckling under the weight of the pleasure, your tight cunt clenching around him, once again, trying to force him out.

“oh no… no you don’t little dove.” he panted, already beginning to thrust at a voracious pace. “you let me in now…you just lay there…and take every inch of me”

he bottomed out, his entire length sinking deep within you. his cockhead forcing itself through the meaty ring of your cunt, prodding harshly against your cervix with vicious movements resembling that of a dagger.

“you feel like sin, my love…” his tongue lopped out past his lips, licking hot stripes against your flesh, burying his head into your neck.

“so fucking perfect…so tight…” he gasped in pleasure… “i may not last long if you continue to clench around me like this…”

vessel’s moans ring around your bedroom, his robes now discarded by your bedside, the glow of the moonlight illuminated his obsidian skin, you could not take your eyes from him, not that you had a choice to look anywhere else, he practically eclipsed your figure, manoeuvring your limbs like a ventriloquist would his puppet. allowing you to bend and break, submit to him all at his free will.

“let me position you better…so you can feel me entirely”

he repositions your legs so that they rested atop his shoulders. he lowered himself, pressing his hips against yours so he could fuck you deeper. he had you folded in half, his meaty cock driving into you with full force.

“going to fill you…your womb shall home my spawn”

his grunts grow more feverish by the minute, you could feel the visceral throb of his cock increase.

“would you enjoy that? forced to birth my spawn? to be my subservient queen? to rule the underworld together?”

he paused, giving a rough thrust.

“oh i know you would, little dove. i could tell by the way those eyes bore into mine”

he gave another thrust.

“by the way that pretty cunt clenches around me…you want to be mine…”

vessel grows more feverish at the thought, to watch your womb round and swell, to have to be barefoot and pregnant roaming the halls of his hellish estate. you his queen, subservient to only him. he noticed the tears streaming down your cheeks, his gaze softened slightly, his lips curling downward into a small frown.

“no tears my love…shh…” he whispered against your cheeks. “i do not deserve to have those tears wasted on me…”

in what felt almost heartfelt on his behalf, when you thought the dominant facade was beginning to slip, instead of peppering your cheeks with sweet, reassuring kisses, his tongue lips out of his mouth once more, licking your tears in a final attempt to mock you.

his cock throbbed deeply in your cunt, no revelation that his release was upon him. he was not one to simply let his orgasm arrive unannounced. he increased his speed, the force of his thrusts was almost enough to shatter your pelvis…and you could feel him holding back from doing so.

“little dove…you’re going to take every drop and savour it…”

his grunts grew more animalistic as he progressed, the clench of his abdomen was indicative of his closeness, how it quivered as it slammed into you the close he got.

“mmm fuck…”

he gave a final thrust, your belly immediately swelled with his warmth, so much so that he was dripping from within you. he grew ravenous, blinded by lust and need.

“you’re mine…all mine!”

he pulled out of you, his cock still leaking with cum in the process. some of the feeling begins to return to your limbs as you hesitantly, weakly attempt to move. your toes and fingertips twitching slightly.

“no no…i’m not done with you yet, little dove” he pulled you back by the ankles, positioning himself between your thighs once more. his breath fanned against your clit, as his tongue made teasing movements towards it.

“need to taste myself in you…” he mewled. “need to make sure you don’t waste a single drop of my seed”

vessel’s lips wrap around your clit, the aching pearl overstimulated from the previous abuse of his fingers. he hummed into you, sucking greedily at the nub.

“you taste so good mixed with me, my love…” it wasn’t just lust in his eyes, but pure obsession, one that you would not hesitate to threaten him over. but as he lay face buried between your thighs, devouring you, you could not help but lay back and enjoy it, the wonders he provided, the spells of pleasure he cast with his tongue was nothing short of marvellous.

he let two fingers spread your dripping folds, pushing his seed back into your void in a greedy attempt to secure you all to himself. you heard a low chuckle rip through his throat, the rumble vibrating against your swollen clit.

“mmm…” his. breathing quickened as he felt your cunt begin to pulse around his lanky fingers ebbing closer to orgasm. his words came out in harsh, unintelligible whispers, coercing you to savour his seed. he’ll let you cum eventually, but not until he’s certain that he’s filled your womb. his slender fingers pumped into your void at a rapid pace, curling upwards as he forced his cum deeper into you.

“accept all of me, little dove…that’s it…”

his tongue drew shapes against your cunt, tasting himself. the sweetness of your skin mixed with the vile concoction of his seed did not deter him. if anything it made him more enamoured. he grew feverish, his cock hardening again. his lips clasped around your clit, teeth lightly grinding the sensitive nub between them. his large hands wrapped around your thighs, pulling you onto his tongue, letting the appendage sink deeper into your already full void. he moaned into you, devouring you with such violent intent.

“oh?” he mumbled into your cunt. “you enjoy this?”

his arousal spiked, his hips grinding languidly against the mattress, noticing the way your cunt clenched with desire around him, so desperate for your own release, you were chasing it, in hopes he would allow it.

“you enjoy the idea of being full of my seed?”

you could not help but mewl at the idea, despite your current predicament, the paralysis on your throat and voice wearing off slowly, allowing you to make small utterances of pleasure in response to his touches, now featherlight, slowly ebbing an orgasm from your walls. vessel smiles, pearly whites flashing in between the shadowy corporeal buds of his lips. feeling the movement of his mouth between your thighs.

your walls began to throb around his fingers, feeling them curl upward, allowing your arousal to spiral out of control. vessel marvels at the sight, the numbness in your thighs begins to subside with soft trembles, the familiar pulse of orgasm rising, feeling it tingle up your spine, feeling the breath catch in your lungs as you teetered on the edge of pleasure. his voice was soft yet his intention remained the same. he wanted to feel you unravel before him.

“your tainted flesh is mine to consume, mine to control…and i command you to release”

his fingers dug into your core with vicious pumps, controlling and commanding the instinctive clench of your cunt around them. your skin burned, like white hot flames of desire for the strange being, who’d effectively ruined your body for his own pleasure. the bite mark on your breast, the depressions of his teeth circled your nipple already beginning to swell and bruise in splotches. your orgasm hits you like a wave, building and building before finally crashing, your warmth cascading down your trembling thighs. vessel admired the sight, how your skin glistened with your sweetness under pale moonlight, how his taste buds danced with the taste of you. he lets out a guttural moan in response, his cock aching with release as he wastes his seed on your bedsheets, the appendage throbbing and swollen, a fiery red upon orgasm from grinding against the mattress.

he savoured your taste, enjoying how well you mingled with his. his head rested upon your inner thigh while he regained his breath, the intricate spirals of his mask poking the flesh. he sighed contently, placing chaste kisses to the skin, an odd sensation considering how relentless and unforgiving he was mere moments ago. you welcomed it, welcomed the feeling of his tongue swirling hot shapes into the skin.

you finally came to, your muscles still ache from paralysis, the weight of him heavy on your chest as he repositioned himself above you, his head now buried in the crook of your neck, peppering soft kisses to the tops of your shoulders. you felt oddly comfortable beneath him, listening to the shallow wisps of his breath, the dull throb of his hellish heart beating within his chest. his fingers draw shapes in the valley between your breasts, almost as if he was inscribing his name into your skin.

“i shall return tomorrow evening” his words separated by small pants of breath.

“i will not relent until you accept me, my love”

｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

[honeyshiddendesire]

🤠Cowboys You Say?

Pairing: Zoro, Eustass, Sabo, Marco & Ace x fem!reader (separate or sharing doesn't affect the story)

*Old Note: Had a vacation out on 93 acres in the countryside and all I was thinking about…cowboys.*

Warnings: bondage! Dom/sub! Pet names! Praise & degradation! Vaginal penetration! Bimbofication! Rough sex! Spanking! Hair pulling! Yata yata smut lol y’all know I write nasty!breeding kink!

@votaeto @zorosdimples thought y’all might like this 

*New Author’s Note: Out of all the stories I thought I lost from my old account Honey’s World of Fanfiction THIS one was by far my favorite so to stumble upon it again makes me sooo freaking hype!!!! AHHH So excited!!!! Hope everyone still loves it just as much as me!! Don’t be alarmed I did fix some typos as well! Lol*

*cow banner*

Acres of land as far as the eye can see was before you. Majestic and overwhelming but it was now yours. Inherited from your late father, Edward, you had no choice but to return home to his prize. The ranch he loved second ONLY to you, too precious for you to just sell.

Patches of woods and forests littered with game even open fields for horses to run wild until tamed. There was a beautiful garden that stretched around the ranch, a pond with a family of ducks. A river with a strong current that only the toughest even dare swim in, flowing just along the ranch’s right side.

The terrain was intense but luckily your father made sure he left you with a great team to help you out.

*banner*

Lumberjack Ace 🪓who jumps out his pickup truck shirtless, drenched in a layer of sweat with an ax resting on his shoulder.

Lumberjack Ace 🪓 who was saddened and shocked at your father’s death but happy seeing his pretty daughter inherit the ranch.

Lumberjack Ace 🪓 who tips his hat and winks at you with a side smirk as he walks, “Mornin’ darlin’.”  The freckled face and cut abs flustering you immediately.

Lumberjack Ace 🪓 who pours a bucket of water over his head before taking the sweet tea you offered after hours of chopping firewood.

Lumberjack Ace 🪓 who cleans the chimney for you in your freakish city that gets snow storms mid summer. The grand line farmland a whirlwind of weather.

Lumberjack Ace 🪓 flirts the entire time with winks and smirks. “Don’t worry babydoll I’ll have this house as hot as you in no time.” Tossing the wood he chopped inside with a dramatic sigh.

Lumberjack Ace 🪓 who ax throws intruders wanting to harm you

Lumberjack Ace 🪓 who makes you wear his hat when you ride him cause you’re his pretty cowgirl princess. “Aren’t you just a spitfire?” His moans drawn out all nice and sweet for ya.

Lumberjack Ace 🪓 who fucks you hard against the trees he plans on chopping. Using you to see if they’re sturdy enough as your back rubs against the rough bark.

“Yeah pretty girl ya like that don’t ya?” He’ll ask as he nips at your bottom lip making you whimper, pussy clenching. His cock will destroy your insides as the harsh tree rubs your skin raw. “Want my seed deep in that cute lil pussy of yours? I bet you do baby girl. Take every drop alright darlin’.”

Fucking your cunt hard in the forest as your screams bounced off the tall trees making him grunt as he paints that pussy white. “That’s my pretty girl.” 🪓

🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓

Doctor Marco 🩺 who rode in on a fucking horse with flowers in his hands to show his condolences.

Doctor Marco 🩺 who even studied animals in order to help your father when he stressed over his prized horse, Whitebeard, growing sick.

Doctor Marco 🩺 who made it a point to stop by everyday on his gorgeous marbled stallion, saying it was important for your mental health on such a secluded land.

Doctor Marco 🩺 who comes to your aid during the harsh heat when you almost had a heat stroke. “Wow there birdie~ can’t have you getting dehydrated on me.”

And !!

The treacherous winter when he finds you passed out in the house shaking still not used to a single fire heating up such a big house. “Sweet bird what would you do without me~” He’ll coo at you.

Doctor Marco 🩺  who sheds his clothes to warm you up the fastest way you can in the countryside. “Come here birdie I’ll keep you warm.” 

Cock plunging deep into your pussy to make you sweat. Your gasps and moans make him shiver, back arching off the bed as you claw at his skin. “D-doctor~ M-Marco ah~ you feels so warm.” You whimper as he leans over pushing his weight on his hands.

“I know dove~ let me keep taking good~ care of you. Make sure you stay nice and warm inside and out.” Marco’s thrust would be deep and really rough to make you sweaty and gasping. “I reckon I’ll have you feeling peachy in no time birdie.”

Doctor Marco 🩺 who even checks your gag reflex with his cock buried snug in your wet throat.

“Take a little more pretty thing.” Hand brushing your hair back with a gentle smile. Your eyes watery as you looked up at him in your pretty sundress soaked in your drool.

“There ya go dove doin just~ fine.” Marco would grunt out as he shallowly thrusts into your throat. Cumming deeply into your tight mouth making you moan softly at the taste. Semen dripping down the sides making you whine and even messier for his greedy eyes.

🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺

Horse Tamer Sabo 🐎 who picked the prettiest mustangs for your father.

Horse Tamer Sabo 🐎 who supplies all the best horses in town. Even trains them too.

Horse Tamer Sabo 🐎 who washes your horses and loves watching you braid their hair afterwards in different styles. “I think that's one of my favorites sweet pea.” He’ll say coming up behind you all close.

Horse Tamer Sabo 🐎 who holds you tightly when a horse passes because he too knows your pain of losing a stallion.

Horse Tamer Sabo 🐎 who gets to train ladies all week but still doesn’t get behind them for a lesson, opting for his own stallion but insists on doing it for you. Saying you need the best.

Horse Tamer Sabo 🐎 who teaches you to ride. Thick cock brushing up against you as he wraps his arms around you. Breath heavy from the close proximity, “Doing great doll~” Voice raspy after a long ride of his cock brushing against your pretty self.

Horse Tamer Sabo 🐎 who buys you matching gloves for riding saying they’re the best and they’ll last the longest because of the quality but it’s actually because he likes you matching.

Horse Tamer Sabo 🐎 who wins all the horse racing championships

“Looking good doll.” Sabo drew out as he leaned against the railing where you were sitting in the front row. All the other women were jealous, wanting his attention too.

“How’s about I take a pretty lady like you out to a fancy dinner and a nice ride?” He winks at the last part hinting at a night of mystery that you so said ‘yes’ to.

Horse Tamer Sabo 🐎 who also makes you wear his hat when you ride him cause that’s just what cowboys do.

Eyes rolling back as he tugged on the knots you were bound by, “Just like that sweet pea move’em nice and slow fa me.” Sabo groaned out, voice raspy making you whine.  Fat cockhead pushing past your cervix making you choke out moans.

“Ooooooowweee doll listen to you howl. Go head and cum on me ‘kay sweetheart.” Sabo’s cocky when he fucks his fat cock up into your dripping pussy. His blue hat bouncing with his powerful thrusts, pussy squirting making his ego grow more. “Now that’s a prize winning stallion! Fuck~!! I’m gonna have to breed you full after that ride.”

🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎

Butcher Zoro! 🔪 Who brought you the biggest cow in the shop to show his condolences.

Butcher Zoro! 🔪 who still delivers fresh meats weekly even though you’re not sick like your father and very capable of doing it yourself.

Butcher Zoro! 🔪 who always offers to sharpen your kitchenware when he delivers the meats to ensure you the best.

Butcher Zoro! 🔪 who loves pulling up to you grilling or smoking some meats and seeing your proud smile when you used his ingredients. “Please Zoro! You just have to join me for dinner! I think you’re gonna love how the steaks turned out! It's a great cut.”

Butcher Zoro! 🔪 who can hog tie the fastest in the countryside. Seeing him wrangle up that boar with his cocky smirk made your thighs press together. Feeling like a sinner in church needing a sip of sweet tea with the way he wiped the sweat off his brow.

Butcher Zoro! 🔪 who always winks at you and tips his hat after winning the hog tying contest making everyone jealous.

Butcher Zoro! 🔪 who puts you in gorgeous knots and suspended ropes to stretch you out in.

“Dammit woman look at you suckin’ in this cock like a champion.” Zoro grunted as he watched his cock disappear down your sloppy throat. Spit and cum from an earlier load dripping all over your front. Pulling away he ripped your top open and latched his hungry mouth onto your breast. Your arms above you in ropes as you hung like a butchered pig ripe for his taking.

“Prettiest little piggy to ever be eaten by me, I tell you what.” Zoro smirked as he left mark after amazing mark all over your sweaty skin.

Tying your legs up and spread out so he can slide that fat ass cock all the way in with no interruptions. “Fuck yeah piggy lemme hear you squeal for this cock just butchering your insides.” He was definitely merciless in all the things he did but you weren’t about to complain.

🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪

Farmer Eustass 🤠 who still tends to your 100+ acres of land cause, “Ain’t no way in hell I’ll be able to sleep at night knowing a pretty lamb like you is doin all the work.”

Farmer Eustass 🤠 who calls you almost every farm/animal he can possibly think of.  Lamb, pig, mouse, bunny, chickie, calf, heifer,etc

Farmer Eustass 🤠 who comes to your aid whenever you need repairs around the house, but only does them shirtless.

Farmer Eustass 🤠 who drives the tracker shirtless in his overalls with a piece of straw in his mouth, hat tipped real low. Winking at you when you give him a cool glass of lemonade for his hard work plowing the fields, though you couldn’t help but desire that he was plowing something else.

“Thanks lil calf but I think I might wanna drink on somethin’ else you can gimme me. Maybe some milk?”

Farmer Eustass 🤠 who buys you the prettiest dresses and shoes cause he’ll be doin all the hard labor anyways.

Farmer Eustass 🤠 who gets handsy the fastest cause he can’t help but want to let out all his stress on you. Looking like a sweet lil belle that he wanted nothing more than to corrupt into his pretty bimbo after a long day.

Farmer Eustass 🤠 who’s a total stereotype. Wanting a beer and his dick sucked the second he steps foot in the door. Don’t worry he always returns the favor 😉

“Been thinkin’ bout these lips wrapped around my cock all damn day out on that field. Fuck~ that’s it chick, slobber all over me.”

Farmer Eustass 🤠 who roughly shoves your face in the hay as he fucks you ass up in the barn. Spanking you and pulling you back by your pigtails.

“Good fuckin’ calf. Letting me breed you full till you’re swollen wit my kids, tits drippin with milk for me.” Hips rocking into your cunt with a mission to fill you full. Stuffing your womb full of his children to run and play on the farm.“Fuck-my little cow being so good. Stay just like that babe.” Spanking you as he grabs both your pigtails in one large hand. “Sweet little heifer letting me breed her like she’s supposed ta wit outta fight. Come on moo for your owner baby.”  Voice raspy as he’ll grip your ass, fucking you hard on his heavy cock. Hay scratching into your face as you cream around his dick with a shaky scream. “Soundin’ so pretty when you get loud like that fa me.”

[anisangeldust]

Pretty when you cry 𝜗𝜚⋆

Summary: feelings are hard.

Pairing: young politician!Coriolanus x Fem!reader

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, Coriolanus is stressed and needs you, emotional vulnerability, mentions of parental loss, crying.

A/N: just some heart-achy fluff bc I’m in the mood to coddle someone rn🎀

Masculinity and Bravado were drilled into the brain of Panems president since the day he was born, festering like an infection, multiplying like an invasion, until all he could feel was shame for feeling.

So often he’d find himself teary eyed, chanting soliloquies of “Men don’t cry, you aren’t weak, crying makes you weak.” like mantras around his apartment, such nonsense that those superior used to undermine his naturally empathetic soul.

It wasn’t until many moons later that he crossed your sacred path, your mere presence a soothing compress on his aching heart. Little by little, you cleared his night skies from its once insurmountable peril, the darkness that had consumed his soul was no longer seeping through his core, instead it soaked through his eyes, salty drops of crystalline water flowing down his milky cheeks.

At the moment, he was being comforted by his ever so generous and loving wife. The emotions he buried so desperately were now flowing like a river in front of his own personal Aphrodite, a tsunami of emotions flooding his soul, lapping at the weak spots of his delicate being. Never would anyone describe Coriolanus Snow as vulnerable, but right now he was. Your tenderness akin to the mother he lost so long ago, and his trembling frame that of a little boy. This is love in its rawest form, the ability to express vulnerability without judgement, the thing Coriolanus so clearly craved his whole adolescence.

Heaven was breaking down in your arms, having a rough day and coming home to you, the woman he loved with every ounce of his being, to have you hold his face and tell him it was all going to be okay; your murmured words like a warm compress on his aching heart.

So often he reminded himself that he was allowed to have bad days, being president was draining, and the cracks in his mask were deepening, he could no longer hide from the flood, he had to just make sure he didn’t drown. Luckily you were his life boat. Despite all his hard work, sometimes the darkness prevails, dawning cloaks of false serendipity, only to shed its light and consume your dignity. The darkness that clouds his vision, creeps into the corners of his mind, dampens his thinking, the darkness only you can cut through. He beam of light, his saving grace.

Coriolanus was a blubbering mess, your fingers running in his platinum curls a reminder that he was safe, that he was going to be okay. Slowly, he lifted his head from your chest and sniffled.

“I don’t deserve you..” he murmured, eyes red and puffy from crying so hard.

“Shhh, just lay on me baby, it’s okay, I’ve got you” you cooed, pressing his face back into the soft fat of your chest. As to which he happily complied.

The muscles of his shirtless back were relaxed, melting into you and your warm embrace. He wrapped his arms around your middle and hugged you like you were going to disappear if he let go, you were his most precious gem, a beauty unmatched by the most divine beings, a goddess amongst men, and Coriolanus was your most devoted apostle.

Slowly, his breathing regained stability, his pink lips no longer quivering, chest no longer heaving. You peppered his teary cheeks with kisses as he calmed down slowly. His mind slipping form consciousness as he fell asleep.

“I love you” he croaked gently, voice rough and tone uneven, the most vulnerable state Coriolanus Snow could be in, the one reserved for you.

“I love you too baby boy, so much. Now sleep, it’ll all be okay” you mutter as he flutters his eyes closed and lays on you completely, your own personal weighted blanket.

Coriolanus was truly sculpted by the gods, how else would he be so pretty when he cries?

[mcuamerica]

Waiting For You | Eris x Reader

For Eris Week 2024 - Day 1: Bonds | Bargains @erisweekofficial

Summary: Lucien and Tamlin bring Rhys's sister to Eris after Tamlin's brothers almost kill her. Eris finds out who his mate is.

Warnings: mentions of SA (nothing happens), canon level violence, torture, parental death (let me know if I missed anything!)

Dividers by @tsunami-of-tears for Eris Week.

Your mother and you were in a small cabin just outside the Illyrian war camp territory, waiting for your brother to show up after his training for the day. You’d spend a week as a family, minus your father, in the cabin. As you admired the river streaming below the small porch, you took in the fresh air. Out in the middle of Illyria, no males to bother you. It was wonderful. 

You let your wings spread out, admiring the way they felt as you took in the cool wind. Only, something was off about it. You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked around, knowing Rhys liked to play tricks on you all the time. While you were a fully grown Fae, you were still young and he was still teaching you a lot about being alert. This time, you were too late when your mother started screaming. Not in terror but for you to run.

Instead, you walked right back into the cabin only to see Tamlin’s brother, Xavier, with a dagger to your mother’s throat. Before you knew what was happening, another one, Neo, had one to your throat. “Hmm.. you smell devine… I should like ravishing you before I destroy these.. Precious wings.” He sneered. A cold chill went down your spine at his words. Your wings. Mother, please don’t let them take your wings. 

“You let her go.” Your mother said. A fierce female that wouldn’t let either of her children get hurt if she could help it. You let out a sob as Xavier pressed deeper into her throat. You scented the blood before you saw it draw from her neck. “Do what you want to me, but leave her alone. She’s innocent.” She said. 

“She won’t be for long,” Neo said, a shudder running down your spine as he nipped at your neck. Your magic was still new to you and certainly not as strong as Neo’s. Not to mention, his strength alone could hold you in his restraint for hours. 

“Do. Not. Touch. Her.” Your mother growled. A female protecting her young, that was all in your mother’s eyes. Suddenly, you had a terrible feeling neither of you would get out of this alive. 

“Oh, we won’t make you watch.” Xavier let out a low laugh. “But you…” His gaze turned towards you just as Neo shoved you into a chair. “You get to watch us gut your oh so loving mother to shreds…” 

“Why?” You asked, doing your best to keep your voice from shaking. “Why are you doing this? Rhys- Rhys is helping you!” You yelled. Too young. You were too young to understand any of this. 

“Rhysand is growing too powerful and close to our dear brother… so we need to show him just how powerless he is. Let’s start with you.” He said, running the dagger along your mother’s arm in a deep cut. 

Once they were tired of your screams, they put a gag in your mouth. And as your mother laid on the floor, blood flowing out of her, you couldn’t bear to watch anymore. But they made you, kept you awake just so you could watch them take her wings. 

The things they did to you next were unspeakable. Carving scars and words into your back, around your wings. Running their rough hands along your wings… your body. The only thing they didn’t do was rape you… but their hands on your body… it was terrible. 

And then they took their swords to your wings, shredding them and eventually peeling them from your back. Slowly. Their magic woke you long enough to view yourself in the mirror. Bruises covered in bright red blood along your once clean skin. Just hours before, your wings were intact and stretched out in the sun.. but now they were in the hands of your tormentors as they sneered. 

“I hope Rhysand sees this message… not that you’ll live long enough to know.” Xavier said, his laugh echoing in your head before delivering the final blow. And then everything was dark. 

Something wasn’t right. Eris could feel it in his gut, something was very very wrong. Someone was hurt… he just didn’t know who. Or why he felt this way. Still, he felt a tug on his heart, and he tugged back. Whatever that tug was needed an answering one. 

He didn’t know what it was until his brother… the one who had vowed to never step foot in the Autumn again, came stumbling in with Tamlin. And a bloody, broken body between them. 

“Xavier and Neo went crazy.” Lucien said. “They- they killed the High Lord of Night’s wife… and this… his daughter.. Rhys’s sister..��� His words stumbled. “Eris, she’s barely alive.” 

Lucien looked at his brother, the one who wouldn’t take part in killing his lover. The one who he knew had a compassionate side of him. Begged him to help her. If she died… It was bad enough that the Lady of Night was killed.. But a future heir? The High Lord of Night might start a terrible war. Tamlin and Lucien set you on Eris’s table, both peering at him like deer in faelight. 

“Bring her in… and go find Renae. Quietly. Tamlin.. I suggest you go home and see to your brothers. The High Lord of Night will hear of this soon enough.” Eris ordered. Tamlin, the young prince he was, stumbled out of Eris’s private cabin and winnowed away just as Lucien went to find Eris’s trusted healer. 

“(Y/N)...” He whispered, his magic flowing to heal any wounds. Just as it did… the bond snapped. His eyes widened and he stumbled back, the pain that eddied down the bond was unbearable. How… how were you still alive? 

Eris let out a low growl at the thought of those males touching you. Hurting you. Like this. You were so young… just over 30 years old. And yet… they did this to you. 

He shook his head, stepping up to you again to heal whatever he could with his magic. His wards rang the bell that Renae and Lucien returned, and he sat aside as he waited for Renea to work. 

He told Lucien to go back to the Spring Court, check on Tamlin and not come back. Eris would be in deep shit when Rhys found out where his sister… his wingless sister was taken but he’d be damned if his little brother was caught in the middle of it. 

So, he had a messenger deliver the news to the Court of Nightmares, that the Princess of the Night Court was healing in Autumn, too fragile to travel, and to send an emissary of Night to watch over her. 

Azriel is the one who showed up, almost knocking down the door in the process. Eris growled as Azriel walked up to the table. 

“Step back, boy,” Renae said, looking up from her gaze on you. “If you want her to be healed properly, you will give me space.” She said. 

“We will have our own healers assess her.” He replied. 

“She can’t leave. Moving her here was a mistake enough. Another trip might be fatal.” She stated before getting back to work. 

“Why, Mother above, was she brought here?” Azriel asked, finally moving his gaze towards Eris. 

Eris’s lips were a thin line, hiding the swirling emotions… The pain you were feeling… “The heir of the Spring Court found out about his brothers’ plans. Arrived too late to save the Lady of Night, but found the Princess unconscious. My brother, in aiding his friend, brought her here. Because if either of them stepped foot in the Night Court, they would have died instantly.” Eris explained. 

Azriel let out a low growl, but paused when he heard a whimper come from your lips. 

“I have healed all I can for tonight. She needs rest. Do you have a bed?” She turned to Eris. 

“I will take her,” Azriel said, glaring at Eris as he gently took your broken, bruised, and bloodied body in his arms. Eris focused on restraining himself at the sight of another male touching you when you were hurt. 

“Second door on the right.” Eris ground out. He was shaking by the time he heard the door shut. “Will she survive?” He asked Renae. 

“She will… it will be a long healing process… but she will survive. When she wakes, she will be disorientated. I suggest that Illyrian stay with her, if she knows him well. A familiar, safe face will ease the pain of what she went through.” Before she left, she said she would be back in the morning to check on her, but to get her if anything else happened. 

You woke up screaming from the pain. Of course, it was the one time Azriel stepped away to relieve himself and Eris was sitting in a chair in the corner of the room. His room. You were in his bed. Azriel, thank the Mother, had cleaned you of the blood. You had bandages in almost every spot on your body, the brace on your arm and leg a temporary solution until Renae could come to fully set them. 

Your screams… They were terrible. Full of pain, misery, and terror. Relentless horror. 

Eris knelt next to the bed, not daring to touch you in fear he might hurt you more. “(Y/N), you are safe.” He whispered, resisting the urge to cup your cheek. Gods… Your face was still bruised, your nose now slightly crooked from how terribly it was broken. 

Then your sobs started as you tried to move, but the pain must have been too much as your body slackened. Azriel burst through the door, shoving Eris aside as he took his place beside the bed. 

At Azriel’s voice shushing you, you quieted. Your sobs were soft whimpers as your swollen eyes searched for Azriel’s. Or so he thought… until your gaze landed on Eris. 

You couldn’t speak, but the way your eyes slightly widened… The slight tug on the bond he felt… He knew you felt it snap. You knew Eris was your mate. And you couldn’t do a gods damned thing about it. 

It took two weeks for you to be well enough to travel. In those two weeks, Azriel didn’t leave your side. And neither did Eris, no matter how many times Azriel said he wasn’t wanted. 

Azriel didn’t say that again when you corrected him. “I want him here.” You muttered, your voice still hoarse. No matter how much water you drank, the injury to your throat was a burden. “He’s helping me. I want him here.” 

When it was time for you to go back to Velaris, you told Azriel to go outside. Shadows included. You wanted a word with the heir of Autumn alone. So, Az did as he was told and went outside, but kept an eye on you through the window. 

“What can I do to thank you?” You asked, leaning against the cain Renae gave you, since your leg was still healing. 

“Nothing… You don’t have to do anything. I don’t want anything.” He said and shook his head. 

“You’re my mate.” You whispered, searching his eyes. “You have every right to claim me and keep me here.” 

“Do you want that?” He asked, a soft look on his face. 

You bit your lip, eyes glancing to the floor before you looked back at his face. “I will come back to you, Eris.” You said, reaching up your free hand to cup his cheek. “I promise.” You said. “I need… need to heal first.” 

“I’ll be waiting for you.” He said, a gentle hand wrapping around your wrist. “I promise.” 

With that, a tattoo formed around your forearm, and one on his. It was one of flame and shadow, but perfect for the bargain made for mates of Autumn and Night. “Thank you.” You whispered, then gave his cheek a gentle kiss. 

You made your way to Azriel, taking his hand and telling him to not ask about the bargain you just made. You would get enough questions about it from your brother. And all you wanted to do right now was go home… where the new High Lord of the Night Court awaited you… and you needed to say goodbye to your father and mother at their burial sites, since you missed their funerals. 

As you appeared in the Town House in front of your now smaller family, you couldn’t help but wonder how long you would have to wait to see your mate again. Or how long that bargain would last before it pulled you towards him again. What you did know, however, was that you didn’t care how long it would take. You would go back to him again. You would be with your mate. The male who healed you and helped you through the terrors of pain and loss in those initial days, even if they were now a blur in your mind. You would return to him. And he would be waiting.

Eris Masterlist

A/N: This is my first official Eris Week participation! I'm so excited! More to come throughout the week. I think you all will like it!

[makochi-furin]

THE THREE WAYS THAT KAJI REN PROTECTS YOU

A/N: Hi, all. This is an example format of one of my types of structures for writing this sort of content. This is a hc-scenario mix :)

WARNING(s): sexual harassment, reader is backhanded (not by kaji)

—Kaji Ren doesn't play when it comes to his s/o. He's well known for his temper, and has quite a short fuse. That's why he wears his headphones and always has a sucker: so he can't hear someone talk shit and snap, and so he can't say anything back to make the confrontation worse. He actively does his best to control this part of him—the part that wants to break a mf's jaw. When it comes to his s/o, he's even more likely to temper it down. When it comes to someone messing with his s/o, bets are off

—He's very gentle with you. He's very aware of himself around you, and how he can be scary and rough around the edges. The last thing he wants is for you to feel unsafe in his presence, or scared of him. He really does his best to not act like a delinquent around you. Really. He tries so hard, yall

—You have probably heard of some of the things he's done, particularly from the townsfolk who go on and on about how amazing Bofurin is, and how they saved the town from different gangs and teams. Sure, you know he's strong, and you know he often gets into fights (that much is evident from the scratches and bruises he always has on him), but it's hard to connect your sweet, quiet boyfriend to the big, bad member of Bofurin who kicks ass and takes names like it's his job

—He's also very quiet, even around you. It's not intentional. Kaji is just a generally quiet person, and prefers to listen to you ramble about whatever more than talking about his own day (especially since his days usually consist of fighting). His fondness for you is quiet, too, but obvious to anyone who knows him. Sometimes, it's so subtle you don't even really notice. For example, he always walks road-side when you two take a walk through town; he somehow remembers EVERYTHING about you if you mention it even once (birthday, favorite color, favorite flower and food, etc...); when you two go on walks, he trails very slightly behind you, as if to watch your back; most of all, he takes his headphones off around you

—The school day was hard. You woke up late, you had forgotten to complete an assignment, and there was a pop quiz in your worst class. Not to mention, all of your friends were missing that day, out sick or at appointments, so you were left alone. Then, to make matters worse, you spilt your drink all over yourself at lunch. Several people laughed at you, and you had to walk around in your white, uniform button up that was stained and see through at the bottom.

Honestly, it was just an awful day.

You were getting ready to head home and crash, forgoing all of your homework, when your phone dinged right as you were about to catch the bus. With a sigh, you looked down at it, expecting it to be one of your parents ripping into you about a forgotten chore or something (with the day you'd been having, it wouldn't be a surprise).

Meet me at the bridge

From: Blondie

You couldn't help but give a weak smile. Your bed sounded nice, but honestly, venting to Ren sounded a lot nicer. You were practically on the verge of tears in the middle of the day, in disbelief about how awful your day had been. You could really use his presence, so you went.

The bridge was empty, thankfully, and Ren sitting on the railing and looking up at the clear, blue sky was a lonely sight until you joined him.

Without a word, you climbed up on the railing, sitting next to him. Your eyes fell to the river running below, enjoying the gentle sound of it flowing along. From here, you couldn't even really hear any other people on the streets. It was nice and calm, a welcome change from the rest of the day.

When he noticed you there, he looked over and started to smile. When he saw your sorry state, shirt all stained, a miserable expression on your face, red lined eyes, the smile fell immediately. He carefully placed his headphones to rest around his neck.

"Hey. You look awful. What's wrong?" He was blunt, but you'd learned he wasn't trying to be rude. He was simply straightforward. Unlike his rather plain voice, though, his dark blue eyes stormed with concern.

Honestly, you probably just wanted to cry, but didn't want to embarrass yourself. Instead, you let your head fall, fidgeting with your hands in your lap to distract yourself as your legs hung limply over the railing.

"It was just a really bad day," you explained with a pitiful voice, cracking halfway through.

Ren stared at you for a second, and if you looked you'd probably see the cogs turning behind his eyes. He was kind of short circuiting. He wasn't great at these kinds of situations, but he cared for you so much that seeing you all sad and upset made him incredibly uncomfortable.

All he really knew to do was gently disconnect your hands from each other, taking one and lacing his long, slender fingers through it. He blinked at you when you looked up at him. Though his expression was still plain and rather stoic (he really just didn't know what to do), his voice was soft as he said, "Tell me about it."

You widened your eyes a bit. You two hadn't been together for very long, and honestly in the beginning, sometimes you wondered if he even really liked you. But, as your eyes fell to your connected hands, and then back up to his, you knew he did. He cared enough to give you his full, undivided attention, even picking up his phone to pause his music so it wouldn't be audible through the headphones.

For Ren, it was a pretty big deal.

You broke right then and there, venting to him about everything. You were just so overwhelmed that letting it out helped immensely. And unlike others, he didn't try to give advice, or anything like that. He just listened.

Then, at the end, he squeezed your hand gently. "I'm sorry your day's been so shit... But... It's okay now. It's over."

Afterwards, he probably bought you whatever you wanted for dinner, and then offered to help you with your homework so you could go right to pretending you didn't exist in your bed when you got home.

—He really is very new to this whole 'relationship' thing, but he does his very best. He's honestly just not the greatest at saying or doing the right thing, but, my god, does this poor boy try to

—There are other ways he protects you, too, than just being there for you and listening. There's also the more physical ways, obviously. He's very observational, despite popular belief, and is usually acutely aware of what's going on around him (and especially around you). His quick reflexes have saved you from a world of pain multiple times, particularly if you're clumsy

—One time, you asked him to go out shopping with you. You knew he wasn't huge on clothes, or anything, but you wanted the company and to spend some of his rare off time with him. Of course, he agreed.

"This is so cute. Don't you think?" you asked with a bright smile, holding out the top you'd found at a thrift store towards him.

He was behind you, leaning on the cement wall with one hand in his pockets and hangers with the other clothes you liked in the other. Ren only nodded, but that didn't deter you at this point.

You grinned, deciding to buy the top. Starting to walk towards him so he could hold this one, too, you failed to notice your shoe catching on the bottom of the metal rack. With a little yelp and widened eyes, you started to fall forward.

You heard the clattering of multiple hangers hitting the solid floor, but you were more worried about the fact that your head was about to hit the cement wall full on. Squeezing your eyes shut, you waited for impact, but it didn't come.

Instead, you felt your head hit something warm and marginally softer than cement. Opening your eyes, you let out a sigh of relief.

Ren had grabbed the back of your shirt, and then leaned over you to shield your head with his hand probably before it even registered to you that you were falling. He easily pulled you back up, careful not to step back until you caught your balance.

"Klutz," he muttered after giving you a once over, which immediately had you pouting, of course, and flushing pink. Ren smirked at the expression, much to your chagrin.

"Ren," you whined.

His smirk would rise into a true smile, then. His smiles were contagious and beautiful, reminding you of daybreak, when the scary night was finally gone and the sky was a gorgeous painting of pink, orange, and red.

You couldn't help but smile back.

"It's okay. I'll always save you from busting your ass," he said, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead that had you melting, regardless of the rough wording.

Sometimes, only sometimes, the boy had rizz.

—These are ways that Kaji protects you that you don't even really think about much, because they're so common. Emotionally, he tries his very hardest to always be there for you, to always be someone you can tell anything to. He doesn't judge you. He keeps you from hurting yourself accidentally, and is always there to catch you when you fall

—Maybe the only time you ever see him actually pissed (not bad argument pissed, but ready to throw hands pissed) is when you're being physically threatened somehow

—I can't stress this enough: he does not, under any circumstances, want you to see him fighting. He's still scared deep down that he'll black out and IT will happen. He'll lose sight and take out everyone around him. It scares him even when he's fighting with other members of Bofurin, so it definitely scares him around you. He does everything he can not to lose his temper around you: music, suckers, hell, even breathing techniques

—However, and this is a massive however, any mf who messes with you must be crazy as hell, especially if they know you're Kaji's girl, because my god he'll hit 'em with a scream AND his fists. That song RAHH—yeah, that's Kaji. He will not play

—You two were meeting up for a date at this cute, little diner in the city. As always, you were a little bit early, so you leaned back on the brick of the diner wall and looked up at the sunset.

Kaji had probably gotten caught up with something, but he'd make it in relatively good time. He always did. And if something really got in the way, he'd text you about it, probably with only one apology, but the next time you saw him he'd have wildflowers, or some other gift to give you to make it up.

You had dressed up pretty cute for this particular date, though. A nice, little diner with the gorgeous sunset as your backdrop? Yeah, you wanted to take photos and dress up a little for Ren. No matter how long you'd been dating him, the way he looked you up and down, a little blush just barely visible across his cheeks, always made your heart swell,

No matter how long you'd been dating, he still had a crush on you.

You were busy thinking about what you'd order, or what you'd talk to Ren about first, to notice the trio of men who were walking by.

They were older than you, at least a decade so, and they immediately stopped when one pointed you out.

"You look mighty nice," said the tallest one, and he was big like a bear. Rough-looking like one, too, with a roguish smirk and lustful eyes, he looked you up and down, but not in the way Ren did. When this man did it, you just felt gross, like you needed to cover up.

"T-Thank you," you muttered, crossing your arms over your chest and looking at the ground. You hoped they'd just keep walking, but they didn't. In fact, your worst fear was confirmed when they instead gathered around you, cornering you.

"You look pretty lonely out here all alone, too. Did you get stood up?" asked a much shorter man, staring unabashedly at your chest. "We can help you out, ya know."

"I'm good... Thank you," you said, trying to back up, but you were already leaning on a wall. "I don't want any trouble."

"No, no trouble at all. Just a good time," said bear man, taking a step closer, getting way too far into your personal space.

Your heart rate shot through the roof, but you were also frozen by fear. Against one man, maybe you had a chance. Against three with no weapons? You felt helpless, and you hated it.

"You gotta number?"

"I... um," you stumbled, feeling so stupid. "I have a boyfriend... Sorry." With that, you got off the wall and tried to squeeze past them, but bear man quickly snatched you back in place by your wrist, grip so hard it would definitely bruise.

Tears brimmed at your eyes. "That hurts," you cried, really beginning to fear for your safety now. You tried to rip your arm away, but it was no use. "Let go of me!" you finally yelled.

The one who hadn't spoken yet spat out, "Nice guys like us are constantly getting fucked over by girls like you. Where's your so-called boyfriend, huh?"

Bear man laughed, but quickly narrowed his eyes with rage the more you tried to tug yourself free. Finally, he had enough when you scratched at the top of his hand, and then he backhanded you pretty brutally.

A cry of pain escaped your lips, the left side of your face stinging terribly, particularly where his ring had left a nasty cut on your cheek. Finally, tears fell from your eyes. "He's real, and he's on his way. He's a member of Bofurin," you said weakly, hoping it would deter them.

Everyone knew what Bofurin was, after all.

To your horror and growing panic, they only laughed at you, though, even as you held your cut face and looked away. "Sure, sure," chuckled the short man, sounding very confident. "Where is he, then?"

"He's right here."

Immediately, you were crushed by an overwhelming wave of relief. Just his voice, as pissed off as he sounded, was enough to assure you that everything would be all right.

Ren would handle it.

The three men turned, immediately stepping away from you.

"Hey, man, we were just checking on your girl, ya know? We saw her fall and hit her head on the wall. Looked pretty nasty," said bear man, sharing tense looks with his buddies.

You couldn't bring yourself to say anything, too overwhelmed and shaken by what happened, so you just dropped your hand from your face and looked at Ren, who stared at you.

There was an inferno in his eyes. You could tell immediately. Otherwise, he looked perfectly calm, but this was the most angry you'd ever seen him, especially when he caught sight of the blood slowly dripping from the cut on your cheek.

It was weird, too, because usually Ren got hot angry. He yelled and cursed. This was calm, though. Too calm. This time, he was cold angry.

"Right," he said quietly, which immediately had the trio's tense shoulders falling with relief. Without ever taking his eyes from your's, Ren walked towards you.

You'd never been so happy to have a boyfriend who could intimidate people just by looking at them.

He wordlessly took off his headphones, gently setting them on your head, music blasting so loud it almost surprised you. You couldn't hear anything. Ren took the sucker out of his mouth and threw it to the side, which was very unlike him.

He always even kept the sticks and wrappers to throw away later.

Finally, with that storm still raging in his eyes, he sweetly kissed your nose, whispered, "Leave it to me," and turned you around so you were facing the wall.

You didn't move an inch, still too frazzled about what had happened, in your head about what could have happened. You weren’t sure you'd ever been so scared.

For about a minute, you just stared at the brick, tears falling from your eyes and stinging the open cut on your cheek. You flinched when the headphones were taken off your head, and then a gentle hand rested on your arm to turn you around.

Ren rested the headphones around his neck, and then silently wrapped his arms around you in a warm, comforting hug. He rested his chin on top of your head, squeezing you.

You relished in the comfort, squeezing you eyes closed against his chest, sure that if you looked around, you'd see three unconscious bodies lying beaten and bloodied on the ground.

His hand found your hair, fingers lightly scratching your scalp. "I'm sorry I'm late."

Still in shock from the events and taken aback by his soft tone, you couldn't help but smile weakly. "It's okay," you breathed, still not pulling away from him. You weren't sure you ever would.

"Let's go get you cleaned up," he said, leading you with a hand pressed against the arch of your back. While you stepped over bear man's unconscious form, Ren intentionally stomped right on his face, no doubt breaking his jaw by the sickening crack you heard, with a stoic expression as if he hadn't just done that.

Needless to say, he bought you a pocket knife and told you to let the air out of any bitch who cornered you again.

—Y'all, when I say this mf don't play, he DON'T PLAY. It's canon. Istg

[frantic-fiction]

Reoccurring Nightmares

(Gif: margonite-seer)

Astarion x GN!Reader / Astarion x Good!Durge

Summary: A night reveals that maybe the past is not left behind, and maybe old urges have begun again. As people always say healing is never linear.

Triggers/Tags: Implied mentions of self harm. Violent topics. Angst Hurt/comfort.

Minor spoilers for Durges plot line nothing very specific but you have been warned.

Word Count: 2.2k

(Quick note I gave reader Tav's name so hope y'all don't mind)

Cold damp earth thunders under your feet as you run, each step echoes in the silent woods. Your chest heaves, each breath a meager attempt to fill lungs that can't seem to feel satisfied. 

Why are you out here? 

The forest is a maze, and you navigate it with urgency, propelled forward by the rhythmic pounding of your heart. It threatens to break free, like a wild creature desperate to escape its cage. You don’t stop, fueled by the momentum and the all-consuming fear clawing at your throat.

Why were you running?

This isn’t the first time your memory has betrayed you, leaving you disoriented in the unknown.

Ducking beneath a fallen tree, the rough bark scratches against your skin. You turn sharply and press on, the underbrush snapping beneath your hurried steps. The surroundings are a blur, darkness shrouding any discernible features. The moon, a mere sliver in the night sky, casts an eerie glow through the dense canopy.

A plan forms in the chaos of your thoughts. The distant sound of water becomes a lifeline; a river might offer refuge from a pursuer. You move toward the sou-

 Your foot snags a root, and you collide with a rock. Blood fills your mouth, the metallic taste jarring, familiar. In the darkness, your hand tightens around a shard of glass. The moonlight reflects off its jagged edges, casting faint ethereal patterns on the forest floor.

Frogs and crickets harmonize in the night, their symphony a stark contrast to the turmoil within. The beauty of the scene clashes with the disarray of your mind. A brief moment of clarity emerges, allowing you to catch your breath. 

What happened? 

You examine the shard of glass, uncurling your fingers for a better look. A deeper wound reveals itself, and the blood flows unabated. The taste and sight is both revolting and comforting, a paradoxical sensation that grounds you in the reality of pain.

Where did the glass come from? Memories fracture, and images of a shared life flood your mind. The house on the outskirts, memories of love and healing. Someone's absence looms, silver curls and sharp teeth; Astarion, a question unanswered. 

Knees pulled to your chest, you notice the blood-soaked clothes. Panic sets in; that part of you, the monster believed buried, threatens to resurface. Did his blood taint you again? Did you harm Astarion?

Jerking to the side, you vomit, the weight of imagined horrors overwhelming you. The riverbed offers a cold sanctuary, and you scrub the blood away. The water numbs your body, but you persist until your fingers ache. The raw emptiness grows, time stops, and the world holds its breath in shared grief. You can’t face your friends; the word "friend" is tainted by your actions. Astarion’s absence is a void you can’t bear.

Wasn’t this the fear? The fear that kept you awake, haunted by the possibility of losing control. The dark whispers that the urges would resurface. 

Your reflection in the river, blood-soaked and tormented, triggers waves of self-loathing. The glass shard gleams, a macabre symbol of your descent into the abyss.

Fingers graze the cold surface, and a distant voice interrupts your thoughts. 

“Tav!” The sound pierces through the chaos, freezing your movements. 

“TAV!” Astarion’s voice, a lifeline in the disarray. 

Frantically searching, he emerges from the trees, disheveled and relieved. He is by your side in a moment joining you halfway into the river. He cups your cheek, his touch offers a brief respite, a moment of grounding in the maelstrom. 

Words are cement in your mouth. You're mystified by the reality that is facing you. Astarion is here, in front of you. And, in fact, very much alive. You reach up with a shaky hand to barely caress his cheek, as if a more stern touch would shatter the fragile moment. He grabs your wrist and kisses your cold palm softly.

“You’re alive,” you choke, collapsing into his chest sobs rolls through your body.

He momentarily freezes in confusion at your words before refocusing at the current urgency of your state. Pressing you tighter against him, Astarion strokes your hair and gives you a gentle kiss to your hairline. Maybe he had just fed before finding you, or maybe it's a testament to how long you have suffered the freezing night, but he’s warm. You bury yourself deeper in his embrace, hiding your tear-streaked face in his neck.

“Of course, my love,” He softly says and holds you a moment longer, allowing you to feel the truth of something he’s not quite understanding but knows is important just the same. But little by little, he begins to pry you from his body.

“No,” you make a pathetic whine in protest, desperately trying to stay attached. Too afraid that once you let go, he’ll disappear and the truth of what you did will be brought back into the moonlight.

“Hush now, my sweet,” Astarion stands up suddenly and removes the heavy jacket you had given him. Kneeling back down, he drapes it over your shoulders.

“You have been in the middle of the woods in freezing weather for gods know how long. And you've had a bit of a swim.” His thumb brushes the line of your cheekbone. “Let’s get you home so I can warm you up, and if you are feeling okay tonight, we could discuss what my darling was doing alone out here.”

He doesn’t leave room to argue, and you have none to give. So he takes you in his arms and begins to walk. You’re too tired to speak, so you simply curl closer into him and resume your position, face tucked into the crook of his neck. His scent invades your nostrils, and finally, since waking up in the woods earlier this evening, you breathe a sigh of relief.

***

You don’t remember falling asleep, but you awake on the plush sofa in your living room. Astarion must have moved it because it is now as close to the fireplace as safety would allow. The only thing standing in its way was the intricately sculpted metal table Dammon had gifted you for a housewarming gift. 

What seemed to be the entire house's stock of blankets was now piled on top of you, effectively cocooning you in cotton and silks. You try to sit up, but find that no strength is left in your bones.

“Stari?” You croak, your voice hoarse from your sobs.

There is not an immediate response, just the crackling fire and the rustling of dinnerware from the kitchen. You don’t bother to call out again; you know he’ll be in to check on you soon. When it comes to you, Astarion’s mother hen tendencies rear their head with great urgency.

 While you wait, you stare transfixed into the fire, mesmerized by the crackling wood and swirling ash. The chaos of fire has always been interesting to you. In small quantities, fire can bring warmth to a home and light to darkness. But uncontrolled fire burns, burns everything in its path. No mercy, no complexities, just fire and fuel; anything in between is insignificant in the grand scheme. It's familiar, too familiar.

Maybe this topic was best left untouched; maybe you hated fire. After all, fire is made to burn.

“Oh good, I was just about to wake you,” Astarion sets a tray on the coffee table. “I made tea,”

He starts to unearth your body from your blanket tomb and helps you into a more seated position before moving to the armchair. You catch his wrist; his crimson eyes meet yours. You're not entirely sure what you want; you just can’t bear him being so far. Not after thinking he was lost to you forever.

“Hold me?” The words are barely above a whisper, hesitant as if Astarion has ever denied you anything. “Please,” you tack on for good measure, though you're not sure why.

“Of course, my sweet,”

Handing you your tea, Astarion motions you to lean forward so that he can slip in behind you. Sandwiched between his legs, he wraps an arm around your middle and eases you against his solid torso. 

He’s warm; you must have been right. During your trek in the woods, he must have stepped out to feed. Now that the winter is approaching, he’s been hunting larger game; he likes to be warm, says it’s not always fair when you're the only one bringing heat into the relationship. 

He silently urges you to drink your tea, and you do. It’s quiet; neither of you speaks; you simply drink your tea and Astarion comforts. Hands gently trail up and down your arms, in between peppering tender kisses on your neck and shoulders.

You know what he’s doing. You’ve done the same tactics on him plenty of times in the past. He’s waiting. Waiting for you to speak first. To share with him why you were in those woods. What horrors brought you there. It’s an unspoken rule between two very broken people. You offer each other comfort, the safety each has lacked in the past and wait. If or when the person wishes to speak, the other listens.

But how do you even begin to describe the night that has occurred? The terror, the guilt, the hatred. It all just boils in your chest like wet tar. You can’t even really explain what happened to yourself. Once the tea is finished, you pass the cup to Astarion, who in turn returns it to the tray.

With a deep breath, you say simply, “I thought it happened again,” he knows immediately what you're saying and holds you just a bit tighter. 

“I-I-I don’t know what happened, b-but I was just running. I was… Gods, Astarion, I was so scared.”

Pushing the blankets further away from you, you turn in his arms and wrap around his neck. His eyes reflect the same sadness and fear you are feeling. “I was covered in blood, and then…then all I could think about was you,”

Tears begin to roll one by one down your cheeks; he collect them with his thumbs. Tears of his begin to follow a similar path. “I thought it finally happened,” you're crying harder now, hiccuping between words. 

“I thought he finally made me kill you,” words began to fail you from there. You pathetically tried to say more but the only sounds that escape are choked hiccups and wet sobs. When you know you have no hope of continuing you simply hide your face in your hands, no longer wanting to face the world.

“We’re okay, little love. Everythings okay.” Astarion is rubbing soft circles into your back, repeating calming phrases until they stick. “I’m here, nothing can change that. You’re okay darling.” 

It takes a lot of lovely words and small touches before your breathing calms down and you seem to have run out of your tear supply for that night. But even then Astarion doesn’t let go. You two stay interlocked, warmed by the slowly dwindling fire. He clears up your scattered thoughts. 

Astarion's voice, tinged with concern and a hint of reassurance, breaks through the remnants of your panic. "It was probably just one of your nightmares," he offers, a familiar acknowledgment that nightmares are woven into the fabric of your existence. In the quiet aftermath of your ordeal, the weight of his words settles in the still air. 

As he gently extracts one of your hands from your tear-streaked face, the dim light catches the glint of a heavy bandage wrapped around your trembling fingers. The glass shard, a cruel messenger, the night will leave its mark. With a tender touch, Astarion guides your gaze to the bandage, and then, with a careful motion, he lifts the fabric of your pants to expose a larger wound on your thigh, neatly covered in thick gauze.

The size of the injury is alarming, and the realization dawns that stitches would have been a necessity. Astarion's eyes reflect a regret that mirrors your own. "I should have been there, I'm so very sorry, my love," he whispers, his voice carrying the weight of an unspoken vow to protect you from the horrors that lurk within your own mind.

As you open your mouth to argue or perhaps offer words of comfort, Astarion anticipates your protest. "Regardless of what you are going to say," he interrupts, his words cutting through the heavy air, "from now on, I will be feeding exclusively when you are awake." The admission reveals a vulnerability in his eyes—a fear that lingers from the night when the scent of your blood permeated the air, and you were nowhere to be found.

"There was nothing more frightening than coming home to the smell of your blood and you gone." His hand begin to play with a strand of your hair. "Not to mention the absolute nightmare of a talk I’m to receive once I call for Shadowheart come morning, because I’m still not convinced you didn’t contract hypothermia during your midnight swim.” 

A small smile plays on your lips, a silent acknowledgment of the impending lecture from Shadowheart, whose disapproval you can almost taste. Astarion seems to relish in your smile, and he cups your jaw, pressing his forehead to yours in an intimate gesture that transcends words.

"That is all behind us," he declares, a note of determination in his voice. "Our wounds are still fresh, but we are here, and we are healing. We'll get through this, we always have." His smirk carries a promise of resilience, and you nod in agreement, surrendering to the irresistible urge to find solace in the warmth of his lips pressed against yours.

Author's notes: Oh boy I haven't posted any of my writings since 2018 but damn BG3 has sparked something in me. Astarion is something special and I love him. If anyone has some ideas they would like to throw my way I would loved to see them.

Feedback is welcome, hate is not! Have a nice day, cheers.