#listen. i still don't make the rules for the muse.

[dramaticals]

following instructions

pairing: theodore nott x gryffindor reader

summary: enemies with benefits with theo where they're constantly insulting each other but they still can't get enough. smut. au where characters at hogwarts are aged up to be 19+. mdni. / requested by anonymous.

author's note: co-wrote this with lily (@softeliza) <3 we honestly wrote this as a theo x hermione, but swapped hermione for reader

✧ read part two: following instructions (headcanons) ✧

Theo's judging eyes watch as you dice the sopophorous bean before tossing it into your cauldron, your gaze shifting between your opened textbook and your cauldron. A bead of sweat drips from your forehead. You were meticulously following the directions, and yet something still didn't seem right about your potion.

Theo scoffs, shaking his head. What an idiot, he thinks.

"You're supposed to crush it." Theo says, demonstrating pointedly with a silver dagger and popping the squashed bean into his own cauldron. The cauldron bubbles, and the liquid shifts a shade darker.

"You're supposed to follow the instructions, which clearly say to cut it," you say through gritted teeth.

Potions was the one class Theo never followed the directions for, and yet he always seemed to be doing significantly better than you. You hated that.

"You know," you add with a huff, annoyance laced in your words. "Just because you don't respect the rules any other time doesn't mean you shouldn't follow a simple recipe."

There was something about pissing you off that gave Theo the right amount of joy to get him through the day. Hearing you huff at his words was like finding a jelly slug in a mountain of acid pops. It was glorious.

"Do you believe everything you read?" Theo asks mockingly, his eyes unmoving from the cauldron in front of him. He doesn't know why he was helping you—this was meant to be a competition for the coveted felix felicis. Maybe it was because Theo knew you weren't going to listen to him anyway. "Besides, I respect the rules." Theo says, but even he can't keep a straight face at his claim, his lips tugging into a smirk.

"I believe everything I read in a textbook," you say, your eyes narrowing and your mouth falling open in shock. Was he serious? "You know, that book of words that literally outlines how to make the potion? How else would you know how to brew it?" You hope he doesn't notice the genuine curiosity in your question. You actually wanted to know how Theo knew what to do all the time. It was so infuriating.

"Natural intelligence and charm." Theo says coolly.

In actuality, Theo had managed to find a textbook filled with inscriptions, correcting the printed text with tips and tricks on how to brew a potion every time. But he wasn't going to tell you that. Theo would gladly and happily let you believe he was gifted.

Theo peeks at your cauldron and has to hold a snort back. It looked just about ready to implode.

"This is a simple recipe, huh?" Theo muses. "Is that why your potion looks and smells like absolute shit?"

"Maybe I just thought I'd throw you a scrap with this one. I mean, we both know you're in desperate need of some luck, especially on the Quidditch pitch. If anyone needs this win, it's you."

"Oh, so you watch me on the pitch, do you?" Theo says with a smug grin.

You roll your eyes. Curse him.

Theo stirs counterclockwise a few times and then once again clockwise. The potion bubbles again. This time, it shifts into its final colour form. Bingo.

Theo, with an expression beaming with pride, calls over Professor Slughorn to inspect the potion. You zero in on Theo's cauldron and let out a small sigh. You didn't need confirmation from Slughorn to know that Theo did it. That bloody asshole did it.

Slughorn tosses a single leaf into the cauldron. The leaf disintegrates, and Slughorn clasps his hands together and announces, "We have a winner! Class dismissed!"

As Theo receives congratulations from all around, you begin to tidy your workspace, empty your cauldron, and pack your things. Anger boils in your stomach. As much as you tried to avert your gaze from Theo, your eyes are drawn to the tiny vile Slughorn passes to Theo. With a triumphant smirk thrown your way, he tucks the potion into his pocket before cleaning his workspace.

"Try to use it for something other than trying to sleep with girls," you quip, clutching your books to your chest. The confident, holier-than-thou persona slips over you like a glove. It was a default shield whenever you felt threatened, especially academically. And Theo was often on the receiving end of it all. "I mean, I'm sure you could use some luck in that department, but I doubt that's what Zygmunt Budge had in mind."

"I'm doing quite well in that department, actually." Theo says. With looks and an attitude like his, girls were flocking to him like nifflers to gold. "Much like potions, really. They all just come to me."

Theo awaits your signature glare and snarky remark, but he was simply met with a silent shove to his shoulder as you headed to the door. His brows furrow, disappointed in the lack of repartee, before Theo's walking after you. He falls into step with you, following you through the dimly lit corridors of the dungeon.

"What's the rush, little lion? Can't stomach losing?"

"I'm not in a rush; I just don't want to be around you. Don't you have some dingy hole to crawl back into?" You fume, your grip on your textbooks tightens, and your pace quickens.

"You wound me." Theo simpers, clutching his chest in mock-hurt.

Being in Theo's presence was getting you more and more riled up. You felt like you were minutes away from becoming a human version of a Filibuster Firework. Theo loved when you got like this. He can't quite pinpoint the exact moment he realized why he liked seeing you so worked up, but he's quickly reminded by the staggered breathing and the rapid rise and fall of your chest.

Theo continues to stroll alongside you, an air of arrogance in each step he takes. You quickly realize you have no idea where you're headed. The echoing of both your steps, coupled with the hovering nuisance on your side, makes you let out a sharp, frustrated exhale. You turn to Theo, glaring daggers into his stormy eyes.

"Can you just go? You're so—ugh." You growl, unable to find the proper words.

Theo's brows perk upward. There's something familiar about the expression you give him. He'd seen it before. Last time he'd seen it, the two of you ended up christening the boy's change room after a Quidditch match—Slytherin should beat Gryffindor more often.

Before you can articulate your frustrations, Theo grabs you by the wrist and pulls you into a vacant classroom. The feeling of his fingers around your wrist sends a jolt of warmth straight through your body. Theo pins you against the door, your books falling to the floor with a sharp thud. He skillfully locks the door with a slight flick of his wand before muttering the muffliato charm and putting his wand away. Darkened eyes meet your gaze, a mixture of amusement and want in his eyes.

"I'm so what?" Theo demands. His hand caresses your cheek before roughly wrapping around the base of your throat. "Use your words."

Your mind goes hazy, as if you've been confunded, the moment you feel his hand on your throat. You'd never admit how much you loved when Theo did that.

With a shaky breath, you meet his intense gaze to say, "Infuriating."

The way you reacted to Theo's touch was unlike any other girl he had the pleasure of fucking at Hogwarts. You were just so obvious, and Theo had no shame in admitting that he found it all extremely arousing. Of course, your mouth would claim otherwise, but Theo always had a plan to occupy your pretty little mouth.

You bite down on your lip, stifling the whimper begging to escape. Your breathing is in sync with each other, and the sexual tension makes the air around you thick.

"Are you going to fix it? Or are you just going to stand there like an idiot?" You tempt, leaning up slightly, just to see if he'll close the gap between your lips and his.

"I don't know," Theo responds, keeping a fair distance—only enough for your lips to brush lightly against his. To keep you wanting. Theo leans into your neck, ghosting breathy, teasing kisses up until he's milimeters away from your ear. "Are you going to say please?"

"You've got to be kidding," you huff, shooting a glare at Theo as you try to keep your breathing steady.

You weren't exactly experienced, at least not like Theo. You had a few moments with others, but no one had ever gotten you to feel as good as Theo did. It enraged you that Theo knew how good he made you feel, but you also took pleasure in knowing that you must be riling him up just as equally because Theo always seemed to come crawling back.

You bring your free hand up, tangling your fingers in his lush, brown locks, before tugging his head back a bit so he could look at you. He groans at this. It was one of many acts that really got Theo going, and it just so happened to be where your hands gravitated to the most.

"Please," you say, the tiniest of smirks on your lips.

Anticipation runs through your veins. You didn't need to say anything else. By the way he was looking at you, his lustful eyes boring into your gaze, Theo knew you needed him right now.

"Good girl," he muses with a cocky grin.

The first time Theo had praised you like that, while laced with ridicule, it had elicited a whimper that had him reeling. Today was no different.

Theo moves his hand from your throat and down to your waist, expertly pulling you away from the door and onto the desks behind him. Theo wastes no time and captures your lips with his. One hand finds your thigh, teasing up your bare skin and under your skirt. Your hands find and tug at his belt. Theo unbuckles it and tosses it aside.

"Let's see if you can keep it up." Theo says hotly against your lips.

It was in your nature to be good. But with Theo, there was that bubbling voice inside you that beckoned you to misbehave—to get under his skin. To be bad, all so he could teach you a lesson. Which is why, as Theo plants nippy, wet kisses down your neck, you can't help the words that blurt out of your mouth.

"Let's see if you can make me shake, like—what was that bloke's name..." You trail off, pulling him up by the collar of his shirt for another kiss and wrapping your legs around his waist to keep him close.

There was no other guy, of course, but you wanted him to think otherwise. The mischievous glint in your eyes changes to amusement as Theo's eyes darken. His fingers drag possessively across the insides of your thighs. It was hard for Theo to imagine you with someone else. You two weren't exclusive by any means, but the way you'd whimper and dig your nails into his back had him feeling territorial.

"Shake?" Theo asks against your lips. There was a tinge of something in his tone, and, deep down, you wanted it to be jealousy. "I'll fucking make you shake."

Feverish kisses move down your neck, eliciting a whine out of you, his free hands taking residence on the base of your throat. He plants open-mouthed kisses down the sensitive spots along your neck, sucking softly on the skin, surely leaving a mark everyone would be able to see. Theo pulls back to admire his work. He's pleased. You, on the other hand, were equal parts excited and annoyed. Excited because the sensation made the blood rush to your cheeks and to your core, and annoyed because you had to explain the markings to your friends.

"Theo," you hiss. "You know better."

Theo doesn't listen, obviously. Instead, he moves down your body until he's crouched and face-to-cunt. Slender fingers reach under your skirt, hook onto your panties, and slide the garment off. In an instant, Theo's between your legs, lapping his tongue relentlessly over your clit.

"Oh my god," you gasp, one hand grasping onto the edge of the desk, your back arching instinctively to bring yourself closer to his tongue. Your free hand finds his hair again, your hips rolling to meet his movements.

Theo's smirks into your core, a low groan escaping his lips as he feels you roll onto his mouth. Strong hands position themselves on either leg, urging you to spread your legs wider. You try to obey his silent requests, but it's not enough. Impatience hits him hard, and he's repositioning your legs so they're slung over his shoulders, a firm hand pushing your hips down onto the wooden desk. The new position allowed him to be flush against you, his tongue circling your entrance and lapping up any arousal.

"Theo," you moan, louder than normal.

You could tell he was pissed. It'd always been your goal, especially in intimate settings, but Theo had never been like this. He buries his face between your legs, his nose rubbing against your clit as his tongue works on your opening. He dips a finger in and withdraws it out of you slowly, contrasting his unyielding tongue. Your eyes flutter shut with pleasure.

"More," you choke out. "Please, give me more."

Your moans were fueling the already raging fire in him. Fuck, he needed to hear more of that. Theo uses his free hand to hold you steady, his tongue and lips unrelenting. He adds another digit inside of you, curling his fingers against your spot. Theo wanted to make you cum now more than ever. He wanted you to remember that even if you were fucking someone else, he was the only one who could make you unravel like this.

"Sit fucking still then," he growled against your slit, stormy eyes shooting up to look at you.

You fight hard to listen to him, desperately trying not to squirm. Theo was cruel enough to stop and leave you high and dry, so it was in your best interest to do as instructed. You dig your nails into the edge of the desk in an attempt to keep your focus on something other than the pleasure growing inside of you.

"Th-Theo," you gasp. "I—"

You're close, and you know what Theo wants—what he always wants. Theo wanted you to ask for permission, and with the image of someone else messing with you fresh in his mind, Theo needed to know he had that control over you now more than ever. Breathy pants fill the room, and you fear you can't hold it back any longer.

"Fuck, please. Can I please..." You moan, throwing your head back against the desk.

"Please what?" Theo says roughly against you. If Theo's cock wasn't already erect, it would be now. Your moans and gasps of pleasure were truly something that needed to be studied. Who knew these delightfully ragged breaths could come out of someone so irritatingly uptight? "Words, Y/L/N."

The fog of pleasure Theo has you in has made it impossible for you to do the one thing you pride yourself on: following the instructions. Typically, Theo would remove himself and make you beg for contact. Today, though, his actions were ceaseless. Despite your strong will to be good, your body wouldn't cooperate.

"Oh my god," you whimper, your back arching as an intense orgasm washes over you. Your body jerks—no, shakes—and your moans are broken up by desperate gasps as wave after wave hits you.

Theo curses under his breath. As pissed as he was that you didn't ask, Theo graciously allows you to release on his tongue, lapping up your sweet fluids. He'd reprimand you later. As you come down from your high, your body collapses onto the desk. You've never felt anything like that before.

Theo stands and slides his fingers out of you slowly. His darkened, lustful eyes are trained on yours. As much as he enjoyed the view, Theo wasn't happy.

"Don't," you breathe. "I know—I should have... I know."

"So much for following instructions," Theo says, disregarding your words. He licks your arousal off his fingers casually, and the sight makes you shift and clench your thighs together. He was the hottest irritant you've ever seen.

"Fuck off," you say with an exasperated huff. You prop yourself up by your elbows, slowly moving into a sitting position. "You didn't exactly help the situation."

So maybe Theo was being a bit of a prick. Not like he could help it—you squirming and moaning for him like that triggered something primal in him. Theo didn't want to stop; he wanted to make you scream for him. Still, it really shouldn't have been hard to ask.

By the way Theo was looking at you, you could tell it would take more than a crass brush-off to wipe the icy glare and pouted lips from his expression. Delicate fingers grip onto Theo's shirt, tugging him closer to you. You ghost your lips against his, meeting his steely gaze. "Will you let me make it up to you?"

You don't wait for a response. Instead, you nip at his bottom lip before pulling him in for a slow, deep kiss. Despite his annoyance, Theo kisses back, placing a strong hand behind your neck to keep you in place. The kiss is full of passion, anger, and need.

You maneuver yourself off the desk, unbreaking the hot kiss, as you reposition so that Theo's the one against the desk. He acknowledges you taking charge, and he allows it because, quite frankly, whenever you did take charge, Theo found it extremely intoxicating.

Only now do you break the kiss, peering up at Theo as your hands fumble with his pants. He kicks them off just as you remove your own top, making a point of leaving your bra intact. Theo's breath catches. God, he wanted to bury his face between the valley of your breasts.

"So?" You ask again, a devilish smirk on your lips, your fingers making progress on unbuttoning his collared shirt. "Will you?"

"Go on, then." Theo says. It's not lost on him how much leniency he gives you—not just in this moment. Any other girl who disobeyed his instructions would have been tossed aside so he could move on to the next. But with you, as vexing as you were, you also very much intrigued him.

At his permission, you lightly push him back so he's sitting on the desk, giving him a much comfortable position to watch as you slowly unhook your bra, letting the garment fall to the floor. You can sense his probing eyes on you, and you can't help the sly smile that appears as you straddle him, one leg on each side of him.

Theo's hands find your waist immediately, slowly sliding up your sides, to your bare back, and then to your front. He squeezes your breasts, eliciting a breathy moan from you. Your skin was soft under his rough hands.

"And I thought you were going to let that ego of yours make a horrible choice for the both of us." You tease.

Theo's too enamoured with this new position (and view) to respond to your jests. One hand rests firmly on your jaw as he pulls you in for a kiss, his teeth grazing your bottom lip. Meanwhile, your hand moves to stroke his length, feeling Theo grow even harder at your touch.

"Shit," Theo groans.

"Someone's missed me," you whisper against his lips. Your thumb teases the tip of his cock, evoking a slight twitch out of him.

"God, shut up."

Theo wanted nothing more than to wipe—no, fuck—that smug expression on your face. And he's just about ready to take matters into his own hands, but you beat him to it.

Still wet from your previous orgasm, you were beyond ready to have Theo inside you. You lift yourself up slightly, guiding him to your entrance. He bites back a groan, his hands gripping your waist. You lock gazes as you slowly lower yourself onto him, your mouth falling open in a glorious 'o' shape as you take all of him into you.

While this wasn't the first time you had Theodore Nott resting deeply in your cunt, you took a moment to adjust.

"Are you going to move, or what?" Theo growls impatiently, bucking his hips and roughly nipping at the soft skin on your neck.

His impatience makes you smirk.

"Hey," you say, with a wry smile. You snake your fingers up to his hair, tugging his head back slightly to give you room to trail a path of kisses along his neck. You were going to prolong this and make you both ache for more. You didn't want to be the only one who was a moaning mess today. "If I'm making it up to you, then it's my rules."

"You know I don't give a shit about rules."

"Too bad."

This makes Theo's jaw clench. Before he can utter another quip, you're rolling your hips, feeling him embedded inside you. The movement feels good, but you know it's not enough for either of you just yet.

"God, I'm thankful your ego isn't the only thing that's big," you moan against his ear.

This makes Theo's jaw clench. You hear a string of curse words in another language, something you've noticed Theo does in moments where his brain had short-circuited. Enough sense, it seems, is knocked back into him as you can understand the breathless words, "And you take me so fucking well."

Theo's lips find the top of your chest, kissing down feverishly. His tongue flicks expertly against your right nipple as his hand moves to grip your bare ass from under your skirt. You arch into him, letting out a sharp gasp at the dual sensation. Despite his sentiment about rules, Theo lets you control the pace. He holds back the strong desire to thrust upwards into you, to fuck you hard.

"Oh, Theo," you whine as you continue to roll your hips. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and lift yourself up, almost completely off his dick. Ghosting your lips against his, you push yourself back down—hard—feeling him go even deeper. You repeat these movements, your moans growing louder.

Theo can't stop the thoughts of how gorgeous you looked from clouding his mind. You weren't bad to look at normally, but seeing you fuck yourself with his cock had to be one of the wonders of the world. Only if that were a reality, Theo's not sure he could stand anyone else ogling you like this.

"Yes, that... that feels good." Theo groans, his cock throbbing from your movements.

You press your forehead against his, your eyes locking with his as you continue. One of the things Theo liked most about this little arrangement was your unnerving ability to keep eye contact—there was nothing more sexy than seeing the woman you were pleasuring crumble. Eyes can tell you everything.

"I'm trying to—" you breathe, rocking yourself against him. The movement wasn't nearly fast enough, but the way you were moving had him reaching depths you didn't know were attainable. "—to be good."

"Are you?" Theo asks between pants, squeezing your ass roughly. He leans into your lips. "Can you be a good girl for me now?"

You give him a small nod, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment. Your breath is quavering as you try to speak; your eyes re-lock onto his. "Am I not being good for you?"

This makes him chuckle darkly. Theo wasn't an idiot. He knew you practically yearned for his words of praise. The knowledge was something he took advantage of from time to time, withholding and dangling his praise in front of you just to see how far you'd go to make him say it.

To prove to Theo you were being good, you push yourself down onto him roughly, a whimper escaping your lips. You increase your speed, unable to hold out anymore, fucking yourself hard, deep, and fast on his cock.

"Fuck." Theo swears, and he can't help himself now. Hands keep you in place as he fucks up into you, cock hitting your spot repeatedly and mercilessly. He relishes the feeling of your wet core around him. Your clit presses against his pelvis at each thrust.

You took pleasure (literally and figuratively) in Theo's natural ability in knowing. He knew what to say, how to touch you so you were melting, and when to take back control. His hands digging into your hips told you everything you needed to know: Theo was going to fuck you senseless.

"I want to be good," you pant, your nails digging into his back, grasping for a release.

"Then you know what I want to hear."

He holds you flush against him, arms wrapping around you as he continues to thrust. He can feel his own pleasure grow. Your head falls onto his shoulder as you feel it building up in your stomach again. This time, you weren't going to wait until it was too late.

"Theo, please," you practically beg. Theo was the only person who'd ever make you feel like this, and you were past the point of caring whether he knew it too. "Can I cum, please? For you."

"Yes," Theo hisses. He was close too. "Cum for me. Now."

Your orgasm hits you hard and fast, your head falling back as you drag your nails into his skin. Theo continues to thrust up sharply, chasing the high for the both of you. You clench around his length, the sensation mixed with your moans pushing Theo over the edge.

"That's my good girl."

Theo's praise for you was not lost in the chorus of breathy moans and grunts of pleasure. His addition of the word 'my' made you shake even more as another wave of pleasure washes over you.

"Oh, God, yes, Theo."

His hand moves to the back of your neck desperately, guiding you into him for a passionate kiss as he spills into you with a moan.

Ragged breaths fill the room. There was always a moment of limbo after every encounter—a moment where the two of you stayed entangled and nestled with each other, savouring the proximity and stealing last, sweet kisses. You knew the moment you got up, the two of you would go back to despising each other again, until next time.

"So?" Theo asks after a moment, expectant of an answer, as if you could read his mind. "That dumb git you mentioned earlier. Was he better than me?"

His question makes you smirk, and you have to bite it back so as not to show how content you were that he had lingered on that thought.

"You don't want me to answer that," you say, giving him a small pat on the shoulder before getting up. You slip back into your clothes and adjust your hair.

The answer should have been obvious to Theo, but you weren't giving him the satisfaction of admitting it because it did nothing for your reality. This was as far as this would go. Theodore Nott was a pretentious asshole who just so happened to be a good fuck. There was never going to be more than that.

"You definitely exceeded expectations today, Theo," you say, gathering your books from the floor. "But you didn't do anything worth an outstanding."

With a swift flick of your wand, you unlock the door and leave Theo in the vacant classroom, already fantasizing about next time.

[chaos-in-deepspace]

L&DS Rafayel: Don't Look At Him | 18+

So my solid rule of thumb is that if a fic is 1k words or longer, it's no longer a drabble...and this is just over 1k. I wrote this before work in like 15 minutes though, but I hope it's still enjoyable! OH! and this was a request, by the way, so hope the requester enjoys this!

♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Pairings: Rafayel x Reader ♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Warnings: Unsafe Sex, Creampie, AFAB Reader, Jealousy, Wall Sex, Quickie ♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Synopsis: Rafayel is jealous that you were so close to Sylus in the N109 zone and decided to remind you just why you come home to him instead. ♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Word Count: 1k

Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Rafayel

Don't Look At Him

There were few things scarier than when Rafayel let his perfectly made facade disappear. You had noticed it before, how sometimes he seemed a bit more rigid. He always seemed so carefree and lax, but he had fought alongside you before, you knew there was something he hid all too well from most people. Hell, there was that time you had a stalker and he almost incinerated him on sight the moment the man tried to attack you. The cold look in his eyes that day, the serious tone, you just knew he wasn’t all that he tried to make himself out to be. He was so much more and he never let you peel back those layers.

So when he allowed his quirky, artist persona to fade for a little while, you knew you were in deep shit, “So you have a new boyfriend, then?” his words were far colder than you were used to. He had gotten upset before, but it was always cute pouting, this was dangerous.

“Raf, I had to use him to not die in the N109 zone, and we just happened to hit it off and became…sort of friends…business partners?” you trailed off, “Listen, there is nothing romantic going on between me and Sylus.” you tried reasoning with him. You heard his footsteps get closer and suddenly you were up against a wall. He could’ve slammed you against it, but you could feel his hand behind your head, making sure you didn’t get injured. Even pissed he was looking out for your safety.

“Is that so?” he mused, “Are you sure about that? You two looked awfully close,” he said, trailing over your body. You squirm underneath his touch and he shakes his head, “I guess I just need to remind you exactly how devout I am for you,” his breath whispered your name almost like a prayer.

You didn’t know what to expect, but feeling him hiking up your shirt and working off your shorts wasn’t one of them, “R-Raf!,” you gasped out, feeling him taking your pants off as he looked you up and down, licking his lips.

“Sorry, my heart,” he groaned, “I don’t have time to waste right now,” he said, “I’ll be worshiping you later, but for now I need to be in you,” what the hell did he mean by that? His hand went over your entrance the moment he had your pants and underwear down your knees, his fingers finding their mark as he pushed them inside of you with urgency.

You growled out a small curse, shivering at how he began working you open against the wall of his studio…against the fucking entryway because that was as far as you had made it. His fingers felt delightful and you wanted more, rolling your hips and whimpering. He leaned in, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss that was more teeth than tongue at this point, his desperation clear.

You heard him working his pants off, the buckle a clear indicator and you didn’t even get a chance to look down with how he was pressing you against the wall. You could feel his cock against your thigh as he worked on hiking your legs up, supporting you as he prodded at your entrance. He had barely worked his fingers in you and now you could feel his cock and gods everything was a blur.

Rafayel plunged his cock into you, making you all but scream his name against his lips as he kept you there. “Fuck,” he groaned out, “So wet, so tight,” he murmured, his forehead now against yours as he began pumping into you. Your entire body jostled with every thrust and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders for some form of support.

This entire situation was hot and you didn’t know where it all came from. One moment you were coming to the studio, the next you were being pressed and fucked into the wall next to the coat rack because this man was jealous. You couldn’t even say anything as his mouth began leaving a trail of kisses down your jaw and to your neck.

You whimpered at feeling his teeth biting into you, sure enough leaving a mark and possibly drawing blood but you were too fucked out to care. The drag of his cock inside of you was the only sensation you could focus on, closing your eyes and letting out small whimpers and cries. The familiar coil inside of you building faster than anticipated. Rafayel leaned closer, making sure his pelvis was flush to your front so with every stroke he was grazing your clit.

“R-Raf, fuck, mhm-” You were whimpering his name now, so close to release; the feel of his pulsating cock signaled his own. 

“I know, I know,” he groaned, “Wanna feel you soak my cock, fuck -hng please, m-my heart, cum for me,” he gritted out, closing his eyes for a moment before he reopened them and locked his gaze with your own. That was all it took as you clenched tighter, coming undone all over him and possibly soaking his shirt that was in the way. You were whimpering, your clutch on his shoulders stronger as he pulled shaking gasps from you.

He groaned loud against your ear as he spilled inside of you, his seed warming your insides with every stroke and his mouth came back to yours in a sloppy kiss. You groaned into it, tongue playing with his own as you savored the feeling of his languid thrusts into your sopping core. It took a few moments for him to still, catching his breath and panting against your mouth.

“Fuck…Raf,” This was probably the first quickie you ever had with him, normally he liked to take his time with you. The thought was hot though as you clenched down again on his length, earning a groan from him,

“I’m not done with you, my pearl,” he murmured and you gave him a small look of surprise.

“But you just…?” you began and he smirked.

“When have you known me for only doing one round?” his tone was lightening up again, returning to the more familiar Rafayel you knew, “Although this time I want it to be on a bed so I can take my time,” his tone trailed off and you flushed. The day was apparently still young, and your boyfriend had plans to fuck you so dumb you probably wouldn’t remember any man’s name other than his own.

Me? Writing Top Rafayel? I mean...it sometimes happens.

[the-modern-typewriter]

wgshdwgd im sorry if youre not accepting snippet reqs </333

but could i req you write abt a villain who *everyone* is genuinely terrified of. and then the hero just politely tells them to shut the fuck up. like, villain could be monologuing or smth and hero would cut them off saying that they would really appreciate it if villain could finish up in the next hour or so because they dont want to miss bargain day at the supermarket.

uwah im sorry if i broke any rules </33 stay safe its a crazy world out there <333

"-Could you please just shut up?"

There was a moment of absolute, horrified silence. One man promptly fainted. Nobody seemed to breathe for a few seconds.

The villain turned, slowly, towards the protagonist.

They were on their knees on the floor, surrounded by armed guards ready to execute the various staff still in their building. Their expression was one of exhausted long-suffering, one hand pinching the bridge of their nose as if to stave off a headache.

"Excuse me?" the villain asked, oh so softly.

"Will you please stop talking?" The protagonist dropped their hand, levelling the villain with a look. "Like, if you're going to slaughter the lot of us, just do it, don't make us listen to the spiel first. It's been forty five minutes."

"Are you so eager to die?"

"No. But if I'm going to die, I think I'd like to get it over with. Otherwise, I'd like to just go about my day. I need to buy food before the shop closes and takeaway costs a fortune. I mean, bloody hell. Forty five minutes. Do you really think anyone here is listening?"

The villain stared.

"Like, not to be rude," the protagonist said. "But they're all scared out their minds. They are not processing the finer points of your monologue. It's just so unnecessary."

"I could cut out your tongue and feed it to you."

"You don't have anything better to do?"

"I could cut out their tongues," the villain swept a hand around the room, "and feed them to you. That sorts out dinner, doesn't it?"

"I mean, I'm vegan, and not a cannibal, but I appreciate you're more concerned with being menacing than actually addressing the issue."

The villain stared some more.

The protagonist stared back.

"The data I need is still downloading," the villain said, after a long moment. "If I let you leave, someone will do something stupid like try and call the police."

"Sure, sure. But the monologue."

"You don't enjoy the sound of my voice?"

"I wouldn't take it too personally. It's been a week. Bit overstimulated, to be honest. Anyone's voice right now feels a bit like a cheese grater on my nerve endings."

"A bit like a cheese grater."

"No offense."

The villain blinked at them, slow and somewhat incredulous. "A cheese grater."

The protagonist shrugged.

"I'm assuming you didn't miss who I am in the last forty five minutes," the villain said.

"No."

"And yet."

"It's not that you're not terrifying," the protagonist said. "I just - forty five minutes. Humans aren't set up to be this stressed for forty minutes. My head is killing me. Processing all this - if you don't kill us - is going to be hard enough without having to fit in all the life admin I'm not currently getting done."

"Come here."

"...what?"

The villain crooked a finger to beckon the protagonist forward.

The protagonist swallowed, eyeing the villain warily, but didn't make them ask again. With a glance at the armed henchmen, they shuffled forwards to the spot the villain had gestured at their feet.

"You know," the villain said, "it's been a very long time since anyone has talked back to me."

"Sorry. I'm really not trying to be rude."

"No," the villain mused, head tilting with something alarmingly like curiosity as the protagonist came to a stop. "You're really not, are you? Turn."

"...turn?"

The villain gestured again, to indicate that the protagonist should face away from them.

"...You can't just give me all the orders at once? I get this is more dramatic, but I probably wouldn't be trying your patience as much if-"

The villain seized the nape of the protagonist's neck, like scruffing a kitten, making their breath catch.

Everyone watched for the inevitable torment. The punishment. The kill.

The villain's fingers dug into the knots of tension in the protagonist's neck, power sparking up the touch.

The protagonist sagged. "Holy shit," they breathed.

"Better?"

"Um. I mean - yes - but -"

"Good." The villain glanced up to the henchmen. "Shoot everyone else."

"What? Wait - no -"

The sound was deafening.

Then the silence was, once again, absolute.

"You didn't have to do that," the protagonist whispered. "I didn't mean - if I offended you -"

"Oh, you didn't, don't worry. That's why you're still alive. Tell me about yourself."

The villain's grip stayed unrelenting on the back of the protagonist's neck, holding them securely in place.

"T-tell-?"

"We still have ten minutes," the villain said, in a tone of great patience, "before the download completes. Tell me about yourself. I shouldn't be the one doing all the talking, after all. It's very rude of me, isn't it?"

Hesitantly, the protagonist talked, watching the blood pool on the floor. What else was there to do?

The computer finally gave a quiet beep to indicate that the download was complete.

"Good. Very good." The villain gave the protagonist's neck another gentle enough squeeze. "Now. Let's go grocery shopping," the villain said cheerfully. "Up you get. Dinner's on me."

[melancholiaincarnate]

hell-bent

warnings: brief descriptions of pain and injuries

note: helloo :3 this is another little ficlet to this fic . im going to make a series masterlist - eventually - but i cannot be bothered to do so right now. anyways - if u wanna see more of them lmk or send in requests hehehehehe

"oh she is the cutest!" feyre swoons, her arms extending towards the child that's hiding behind temperance.

"say hi, piper." you look down and behind your legs to where the girl is clutching onto your pant thighs. though she's got a small fear in her eyes, she still peeks out slightly, taking in the view of your family. five very intense pairs of eyes stare back at her. "it's okay, pip." you whisper, "they're my family."

"hello everyone." she says softly, her voice no higher than the squeak of a small kitchen mouse. "where's azzy?" she questions, looking up and big eyes stare at you.

rhys looks at feyre, a knowing smirk playing upon his face, and a matching one on hers. they've both got that look in their eyes that they get when they're communicating through the bond - you roll your eyes knowing that they're never going to let azriel live down the nickname.

"he'll be here soon. he's just a little busy right now." you smooth down her hair with a gentle hand and she frowns, stepping behind you more as cassian approaches, a grin on his features.

"since when do you have a kid?" he questions, crouching down to eye level with piper. he cranes his neck to attempt to see her but she tucks herself behind you even more. "ooh! lemme guess the father. lemme guess - it's az, isn't it! i always knew you two were fucking."

"she's not mine. and watch your mouth." you huff, kicking cassian lightly and he topples over. "remember the mission rhys sent me on?" cassian nods from his spot on the floor. "i found her." you wince at your choice of words - you definitely could've phrased that better. piper seems to be unaffected by your words, instead choosing to let her shadows sniff out cassian.

"what do you mean you found her? you can't just take people's kids, dude. that's super illegal." cassian scoffs, "how do you 'find' a kid and just take her? rhys, that has to be illegal-" he sits up, but his eyes furrow as he sees little tendrils of black whirling around his arms. "isn't that-"

"there's another shadowsinger in velaris." rhys muses from his spot at the table. "we thought it best for her to come here and train here with our shadowsinger."

"so you just.. took her?" cassian looks bewildered, "dude.. this high lord shit has to have some rules to it. you can't just take kids!" he stands up, stretching, before peeking around your legs to see pip staring back at him. "hi." he grins, "i'm cassian." then, he bends down to whisper, "i'm kind of the coolest one here. everyone else here sucks."

"pip, don't listen to him. he's a moron." you sigh and hear little giggles from behind you, whispers of shadows trailing up your arms. there was one shadow though, that stayed nestled in your neck. it didn't belong to the girl, no, it was one of azriel's shadows that had seemed to take a strong liking to you and preferred you over its master.

"you're very silly mr. cassian." she comments, peeking out a little more. you're grateful for cassian's resolve and the things he's seen - you don't know what you'd do if he made piper feel any worse about her current condition. you don't know what azriel would do if he found out that someone dared look at piper with disgust.

piper steps out and the inner circle holds their breaths. her left eye has a deep scratch on it that stretches from her eyebrow to right underneath her eye. it seems to be healing well, but it settles painfully in everyone's gut to see such a large scar on a pure face.

the rest of her face is filled with smaller scratches. thankfully ones that won't scar. no one's seen it yet - but if piper turned around there would be a missing pair of wings on her back.

no one comments. based on the way cassian and rhys look - they're ready to kill whoever did this to this girl, and they'd only known her for less than an hour. even nesta, normally cold-faced, looks full of anger.

piper pulls on your pant leg and points to the table. you hold her hand and her limping does not go unnoticed by your family. she's relearning to walk without the weight of her wings - and feyre's eyes widen once she realizes.

piper's movements are stiff and the table is silent. for the first time in years, the entire house is silent.

conversation starts up as you help pile food onto piper's plate. despite her condition, her eyes still sparkle with glee. as soon as she puts her first spoon in her mouth, the door to the dining room opens and piper turns quickly,.

"azzy!" everyone is blown back by how loud her shriek is. they're even more surprised at how fast she manages to sprint across the dining room and into azriel's arms, despite her condition. "you came back!"

he picks her up, balancing her on one hip with ease. "told ya i would, pip." his voice is soft as he pats the top of her head. their shadows intertwine and zip around the two of them, as if they were doing their own catching up. "did you do your training today?"

"i did!" her movements have caught up to her and she leans against his legs for support, her breathing becoming labored. he notices, and shadows come to swirl around her legs, ready to catch her if she falls. "i walked all the way down the stairs today! by myself!"

the inner circle watches in awe as the shy little girl they'd just seen exploded into personality at the sight of the quiet and stoic spymaster. rhys smiles to himself - he knew that bringing the girl here was a good idea.

"that's great progress, pip." azriel's voice is laced with exhaustion. his eyes finally catch yours - but only because he felt the pool of your emotions in his chest. he nods softly at you, once to tell you he's okay, and he watches your shoulders relax. "tomorrow we're going to go to the healer's again. she wants to -" azriel glances at the inner court, "she wants to check up on you."

"okay." she smiles, "maybe we can walk there! and i can do it by myself this time!"

"i think you can do it, pip." azriel hums, "how about we go eat? i'm starving." he looks up at you, and smiles again, "and then we can go back to your room and finish that puzzle." "yes!" piper nods quickly, "yes, please!" she holds onto azriel's hand for support, and doesn't flinch when her hands touch his marred ones.

azriel sits between you and piper, his eyes watching every single person at the table as they interact with the girl. they may be his family, but if one person - even his own brothers, made a wrong move, he'd flip the table over. his protection for the girl ran deep - so much so that it worries him.

his shadows whisper that it's alright - his protection is justified. they whisper he'll never have to act to protect her, they'll do it for him. and they whisper that if he does have to act, it'll be justified. they whisper to him that the carnage he'd bring for this girl is justified.

so azriel lets his worries go. they're right.

[sinisternymphette]

sheep!reader - a concept

✦ sheep!reader loves the outdoors, and is usually found basking under the sun as they daydream or running around the grassy plains as they chase butterflies. However, they value the company and prefer to spend their time with others, thriving in groups rather than in their solitude.

✦ sheep!reader is kind in their nature, and would do anything for their loved ones. They also like to show their affection physically, always ready to give a warm hug to someone who needs it, or shower their significant other with pretty little kisses all over their face.

✦ sheep!reader is, however, oblivious to the evil in others. They trust those they love, and want to fit in so desperately that they're easy to mold- easy to manipulate. They like to see the good in others, but often forget that evil also exists.

✦ sheep!reader, who is easily spooked or surprised. They feel squeamish at the sight of a single drop of blood and shiver in fear when they hear a strange sound. Though they'll often try to mask it underneath an awkward close-mouthed smile or giggle. If you ask them to watch a true-crime show with you, they'll still accept even if they don't want to deep inside.

✦ sheep!reader, who likes to do arts and crafts in their free time. They're dreamers and like to put their creativity into something of their own, such as their own plushies, clothing, diy home decorations and many more.

✦ sheep!reader, who likes collecting vintage items like precious moments figurines, vinyl, and even fabrics. Their song library is also full of old songs and classical music, not having a liking for rap, rock and metal music. They listen to their music either on their iPod or record player. Their musical muses are mazzy star, kate bush, the cranberries, phil collins, autumn's grey solace and the smiths.

✦ sheep!reader, who loves wearing soft and lighter colors, no matter the season. They nail the southern belle, farmer's daughter and cottagecore aesthetics, giving them an angelic appearance; radiating joy and innocence and beauty that surely catches many eyes, though they never seem to notice as they're in their own little world.

✦ sheep!reader, who tries their best at everything, but often feel like they're doing everything wrong. They often find themselves cringing about something they said in a conversation from days ago, tripping and falling in front of everyone at the worst moment possible, or not being able to concentrate on their studies and understanding the subjects they're taught. They're emotionally fragile, easily overwhelmed and stressed.

✦ sheep!reader, who loves animals and is 100% a future cat lady. They find almost every animal cute and adorable- from spiders to sharks. Despite their skittishness to most things, animals are the only thing they aren't scared of. They love watching animal documentaries for hours- and they never get bored.

✦ sheep!reader, who likes to draw people they find pretty. Honestly, they find everyone beautiful, but those who are kind-hearted and have beauty inside and outside are ought to get at least one drawing from them.

ib: @princessbrunette !!

a/n: everyone is free to send me an ask with sheep!reader in any of the universes mentioned in my rules and I'll do my best to make them fit in the story/au! if it's an anime, modern!au is preferred. I based them a little off myself, so I hope you all like them!

@sinisternymphette 2024

[moonstruckme]

Hi! I am absolutely in love with your writing! The way you portray our boys is just *chefs kiss*

Anywho, I was wondering if I could request poly!marauders x plus size reader? Maybe she is very confident until somebody picks on her and she starts becoming obsessed with dieting and stuff. (I'm struggling a lot with that rn) just a bunch of worry and comfort from our boys.

If you don't feel comfortable writing this or just the prompt I gave it's okay. Ily!♡

Hi, thanks for requesting my love! I'm really sorry you're struggling right now, I know how hard it can be and hope you're doing your best to take good care of yourself. You're beautiful just as you are <33

cw: size insecurity, behavior that hints at disordered eating

poly!marauders x plus size!reader ♡ 1.2k words

The worst part is, you know they weren’t even really trying to insult you. 

You smiled as best you could, said your thanks politely, and moved on. Moved on outwardly, that is. Inside, the words play over and over in your head, like a song on the radio that gets worse each time you listen to it. It wasn’t that they were vicious, or particularly clever, or even wrong. It’s just, you’re not used to people commenting on your body like that. 

You know you’re not skinny. So does everyone else. Neither of you typically feel the need to confer about it. Every now and again, some cruel busybody will say something, but that’s fairly easy to brush off. They’re insecure about their own looks, they have nothing better to do than fixate on strangers’ appearances, they’ve probably been on diet pills since they were twelve. You wish them well and mostly forget about it. But what’s worse is when someone comes to you with good intentions. The idea of being perceived as pitiful or wrong—really, having your physical form perceived at all—by someone who seems to want the best for you is what really hurts. That’s what makes you want to hide, to shrink yourself down until they can’t see you anymore. To become the invisible status quo. 

It’s why, over the last few days, anything skintight or remotely showy has been relegated to the back of your closet in favor of things that hide your figure. Why you’ve stopped drawing attention to yourself with colorful makeup and instead started focusing on your health. Well, your health as it presents itself externally. 

“Anyone else fancy a dessert?” Sirius muses as you sit reading on the couch, Remus reading the next book in the series beside you. 

“Um, no,” James says, holding up a hand of cards from the game he and Sirius have been playing, “you only want to go so you don’t have to stick around and lose.” 

“Whatever my other, subconscious motives may be,” Sirius says guilelessly, “I really feel like something chocolate. Don’t you, Moons?”

That’s always a safe bet. Remus looks up from his book, intrigued. “I could go for some chocolate.” 

Sirius grins. “What about you, gorgeous?”

That’s usually a safe bet too. But you shouldn’t. “Thanks, but I’m still full from dinner.” 

Sirius looks cheated, and Remus cocks his head at you. “Really? Didn’t seem like you ate much.” He’s not wrong. Remus had made the most incredible feta pasta, it was borderline heartbreaking to leave any on your plate. But you’re trying to practice restraint, and thankfully, James had happily taken care of your leftovers for you. “Did you have a late lunch or something?”

“Mhm.” 

James looks up, eyebrows furrow bemusedly behind his glasses. “No you didn’t, angel. You said you didn’t feel like lunch after we had breakfast together, remember?”

“Oh.” You nod. So what? You’d had a late breakfast, and a decently sized dinner, and why do you really need more than two meals anyway? Who made that rule? You’re a bit hungry, but your body just needs time to adjust to your new routine. It’s used to overindulging. And nothing about today means you deserve dessert. “Right.” 

Sirius wraps his fingers delicately around your ankle, smoothing a path up your shin with his palm. “Darling,” he says, and he looks distracted as he runs his fingers over the old scars on your knee, but you know him well enough to recognize when he’s keyed in, “did you eat anything today, other than breakfast and that little bit of dinner? Any snacks or anything?” 

You can’t help the little rush of pride that goes through you. “No.” 

Sirius doesn’t look proud. In fact, he’s frowning, as are Remus and James. You change tactics. “I’m not really hungry, though.” 

“No?” Sirius' voice is unsettlingly gentle. “Why don’t you want to have dessert tonight, pretty girl?”

“Because,” you say, beginning to feel defensive (though you’re not sure of what), “I don’t need it.” 

“It’s not about need, though,” James says, and why is it beginning to feel like you’re in an argument? “It’s about what you want. Do you want a little something sweet?”

“I…” Yes. The answer is yes, but do you want it more than you want to feel good about yourself? “I think what I want more is to prove to myself that I can go without it.” 

Remus’ scars shift as his face scrunches in concern. “Dove,” he says, and you can’t decide if his tone is more reprimand or pity. You don’t like either option. “Where is this coming from?” 

“I’m just…I’m trying something new,” you decide. “I want to lose a little weight, okay? Nothing crazy.” 

“But why?” James sets down his cards, looking completely befuddled. “Angel, you’re gorgeous. You can do whatever you want, but we love you just like you are.” 

“And,” Sirius adds before you can reply, “we love you most when you’re happy. I sort of thought,” he says, lowering his voice like he’s telling you a secret, “that our late-night treat runs made you happy. No?”

“They do.” You pull your legs up onto the couch, away from Sirius’ touch. “I just…I think it would make me happy to be a more normal size, too.” 

Remus looks gutted. “Honey, you…it’s your body, and you should do whatever feels right for you to be healthy, but…we love you like this,” he insists, ardent. “You’re beautiful, I mean it, and I hate the idea that you might want to change for…well, for anyone other than yourself.” 

You hesitate. You’re not actually sure who you’re doing this for. When had you become one of the people who want for you to be smaller so desperately? “You seriously don’t think I would look better if I were thinner?” You’ve never been one to put much stock into what any men think of your appearance, so you feel silly for asking, but you’re in a vulnerable state. And really, don’t all guys want a girl that looks like the love interests in the movies you all grew up with? 

James looks you in the eye, letting you see the earnestness in his as he says, “You’re absolutely lovely, right here, right now. We wouldn’t change a thing.” 

Your answering smile is oddly watery. Remus makes an awfully lovely cooing sound, leaning over to wrap an arm around your waist and paying no mind to the chub there as he pulls you into his side. “Don’t be upset, darling. You know what I bet will cheer you up?” He smiles as you look up at him questioningly, kissing between your brows. “Some chocolate. How would you feel about that?”

You let out a quiet little laugh. “Pretty good.” 

“Yes!” Sirius pumps his fist in the air, already abandoning his cards and standing up. “I knew you’d come through, gorgeous. Now I think the more pressing question is, do we want chocolate pastries or chocolate ice cream?”

“Ice cream, obviously,” James says. “Before it gets so cold out we don’t feel like it.” 

“Not all of us suffer from weather constraints,” Sirius argues. “I vote pastry.” 

“Why would you bring ice cream up if you didn’t want it? Think long and hard, Pads. Are you going to feel like a frozen dessert when you need three layers to go outside in a few weeks?”

Remus rolls his eyes at you as you follow them out the door, letting your boys continue their bickering all the way to the store.

[kaciidubs]

Number 21 with Jisung please!!!!

21: Singing karaoke together

"You can't pick a song that you guys have made - that's cheating!"

"But what if I sing over parts I don't cover?"

"Still cheating, Ji - pick something else!"

With the power of rainbow LED lights and silly props, you and Jisung were having the time of your lives in the private karaoke booth; starting the night with a few duets of the most popular songs before diving right into a little game you liked to call 'Better Cover'.

The rules were simple, the singer picks a song and they do whatever they must to do the best cover they could - whether it be using the voice and music effects, or doing the best performance with improv dancing and witty ad-libs.

"Okay - I got it!"

With a press to the remote, the speakers began to vibrate with the beats of MINX's Love Shake filling the space.

"Starting strong with a girl group, you're really making this a competition, huh?" You mused as he placed the remote on the couch.

"Just showing off my idol skills, Jagi - watch!"

You could barely contain the excited smile that stretched your lips, nor were you prepared to see Jisung energetically bounce to the center of the room, the flower sprout headband he wore hanging on for dear life as he slid on a pair of oversized pink glasses.

"Baby," he sang into the mic, trying his best to keep the embarrassed laughs at bay, "don't let me stop, you-" pointing toward you, he shot you a wink before jumping into position, "-love me!"

"You know the choreo too?!" Gasping, you watched as he bounced to the beat, one hand on his hip while the other confidently held the mic s if he were on stage in front of thousands.

Jisung seemed to channel his inner MINX member as he sang and danced, his energy infecting you as you sang along to the intended fan chant portions of the song.

"Shake it love-"

"Love!"

"Shake it, shake it, shake it, shake it love-"

"Love!"

As he spun to do the next part of the dance, you all but squealed like a pig in mud as he started shaking his hips side to side, fully committed to the choreography - and winning the unofficial competition.

Before you knew it, the final beats of the song were floating through the speaker, and you were left with a very out of breath Jisung, and a karaoke screen totaling up the points he earned through his riveting performance.

Celebratory music played as the screen displayed a perfect 100 - followed by a small image of a crowd cheering as he bowed graciously.

"Thank you! Thank you, no, really, you've been a wonderful crowd! I'll be here all night!" He waved to imaginary audience members, even striking a few ageyo poses as if they were taking his picture.

"Okay, be honest with me," pointing the remote at him, your eyes narrowed in a playful glare, "how long have you had that planned?"

Pursing his lips, Jisung sheepishly looked away before muttering, "...since our last karaoke date."

"You've been waiting to show me up for a whole month?!"

"Hey! I had to after watching you show me up with Icky! I can't even listen to KARD the same without getting war flashbacks!"

"Alright, well two can play at this game - this is real war, Han Jisung!"

[unedited]

[radioactivesweet]

I don't know how to ask this, my English is not very good, I hope you understand! What would make Hades, Tesla and Hercules feel insecure around their y/n?

This turned out kinda angsty??? Hope it's fine either way! Btw these characters really break my heart now that round 8 has ended too I really am speechless

Hades usually isn't insecure. He is prideful, what the other gods can only aspire to be. This same greatness and magnificence lead to fear and awe. He is the King of the Underworld, he whom rules over the Dead - the dreaded one, mortals and gods alike fear him. The only thing that could make him insecure is that one day you too, the one ray of light in the Underworld, will fear him. That you will listen to those gossips and rumours about him, that you will notice just how much frightening and devoid of any redeeming qualities he actually is.

He fears, on the other end, that the dark Underworld will deprive you of your brightness, leaving you being nothing but an empty shell, the ghost of the shining deity you are. Because that's what the Underworld does to its souls.

Nikola fears failure and the feeling of not being enough. He fears that one day will get tired of his continue research and never ending and pointless experiments. He wants to feel worthy of your love, he wants to prove himself and, despite his pride, he often feels like what he is doing isn't enough, as if he isn't going anywhere. You will grow tired and disappointed - and he really doesn't want to. He doesn't want to be seen as a disappointment, he needs you to keep believing in him, in his intelligence and capabilities. He want you to keep believing in his dreams too. Everything would be useless if you were to stop dreaming with him.

He is not an artist, but you are still his muse - and he wouldn't know how to keep going on if you ever were to stop inspiring him.

Heracles thinks you may look down on him one day. Reject him for his humanity, for not being enough for a god. He loves his humanity, his perspective being different from that of any other god and wouldn't change it for anything in the world. Yet he fears one day you will stop loving him for what he is, that you too will grow to despise his human side, that you will see him as a lowly demigod, just like everybody else.

He fears his own indecision, how his resolve may fail you, how lost he sometimes feel becuase of his own dualism - not knowing which side he should take. One day he believes it will lead to him losing you.

[supernovasilence]

"I have heard of such things"

“Please, your Majesty, I came in through a wardrobe.” “A wardrobe? What do you mean?” “I—I opened a door and just found myself here, your Majesty,” said Edmund. “Ha!” said the Queen, speaking more to herself than to him. “A door. A door from the world of men! I have heard of such things."

Thinking about this line from LWW (chapter 4). Jadis reacts to hearing Edmund came from another world by musing about rumors, even though she's from another world herself, and has in fact been to London (albeit briefly). Obviously the reason is because C. S. Lewis wrote LWW before MN and didn't care about super tight continuity, but that's no fun, so here are some in-universe possibilities:

it's been centuries since Jadis came to Narnia, and she's the type who ignores anything that isn't useful to her (e.g. ignoring Polly because Digory was the one that woke her, and then acting like neither child exists once they've brought her to Uncle Andrew). Charn is dead and she can't get back to Earth so she just…didn't bother to think about them ever again. By the time of LWW she can barely remember other worlds exist

Jadis barely knows other worlds exist, not because she didn't bother to remember, but because of some magical/physical reaction. Jadis has no memory of the Wood Between the Worlds once she's out of it, even though Polly and Digory do. Maybe Charnians just react that way to interdimensional travel, or maybe it's something specific to Jadis herself due to magic she's done. But whyever, Jadis forgets any world but the one she's in. The Wood fades almost instantly because she was there so briefly and has no personal connection to it. Earth would last a little longer, and Charn longer still, long enough that she can remember them during the end of MN. But by the time of LWW, she doesn't remember how she came to Narnia.

or she doesn't remember due to eating the silver apple? immortality comes with a price, and for better or worse Jadis is now bound to Narnia; she cannot go back

Telmar was founded by humans who stumbled through from Earth, and perhaps other places were as well (we don't know the histories of Galma etc). Or maybe solitary travelers find their way in sometimes, not enough to found nations or influence history but enough to leave rumors, rumors that Jadis is listening for very carefully because she knows four humans are prophesized to destroy her

Jadis doesn't mean a door as in "portal to another world" but door as in "hole in the magical barrier I've put up around Narnia", and thinks Edmund slipped in from another country. This would mean she doesn't understand the word "wardrobe" though. Then again Mr. Tumnus didn't know it either, so maybe they just don't have wardrobes in Narnia. (There's no absolutely no evidence in the books that Jadis made a barrier around Narnia, but there must be some sort of outer limit to her powers, or Archenland, Calormen, etc would also have been under her control, and they don't seem to have been. She was "Queen of Narnia", not "Queen of the World", and the countries mentioned in HHB all seem to be running normally without the sort of chaos caused by setting up governments again after a dictator's death. I can imagine Jadis making a magical line around Narnia's borders (with plans to expand, ofc) so her magic has a set space to focus on; maybe she can even sense when someone crosses it, which is why Edmund's arrival surprised her—he didn't trip any alarms.)

my favorite: Narnia herself is doing her best to fight Jadis. While the Pevensies are ruling Narnia, their lives on Earth become like a dream, and there are hints the reverse happens when they go back. But when they return to Narnia, "the air of Narnia [works] on" them to make them who Narnia needs them to be: the Kings and Queens of Old. Maybe it's working on Jadis, as best it can. It smoothes away her memories of other worlds, making her content to stay here, like it did the Pevensies. But for the Pevensies, it was a way to ease the pain of suddenly losing their old lives, whereas for Jadis, it's trying to keep her complacent. Because if she remembers there are other worlds, she'll try to find doors to them, and conquer kingdoms, and find more magic, and raise armies, and be that much harder to free Narnia from. Narnia is in pain and fighting Jadis the only way it can till Aslan and the Pevensies come to save it

[tidesfate]

ALRIGHT! RP WISHLIST!

More cultist / loyal follower of Mora threads! (especially in non-tes verses though will happily accept more of those in tes ofc) You want to be one of its fave, don't you?

Possession threads- either muse or someone close to them makes it even more fun teehee

Actually paired with the first and even maybe the second, Mora using someone of power (a ruler, a religious leader, someone who people follow and listen to) to be a subtle puppet master of a kingdom / nation / hell maybe even planet

Mora finding out the truth of the things that were torn from it and why it feels unable to be satisfied and the very volatile time for it that comes after that fact. Please and thank you.

...."Redemption" arc post that discovery. Mora cannot be truly good imo but someone tempting it to see perhaps a form of 'protection' in the reality that has been created from the pieces torn from it or something like that.

On the flip side, corruption arc. You heard me right, corruption arc. Mora can be made worse and you can do it!

A Prince (or other God) being one conspiring amongst the others to see Mora and Apocrypha erased due to be what shouldn't exist and it finds out

A Prince (or other God) letting Mora in on the reality a good chunk of the Gods want it erased and are secretly planning that

Your Muse helping Mora figure out the reason certain things it cannot see is cause it cannot foresee anything that is majorly tied to it (it is blind to itself <3). Also all the mess that realization causes

Bringing back the old concept I had that I'll instead make a fun rp plot where Moras getting 'bored' of reality and wants to see it rewritten

Divine Mora threads! Divine Mora threads! I really wanna test that AU out. It warning your muse about something upcoming, trying to guide the proper flow of fate, acting as a messenger of the other Divines. Hell maybe even some kinda fucked up lesson to someone really trying to go for forbidden knowledge its trying to safe keep, and lets them go towards it to watch them be undone by it.

Also bonus with Divine; it finding out, like normal Mora, that its existence is still one the Old Spirits wish to erase simply due to it being something that should not exist. It does not matter if its "good" or "evil".

"Younger" Mora threads. Back when it was just created and reality was more interesting to it and it was a more Neutral entity fixated on feeding its curiosity

"Older", unhinged Mora. Mora whom has devoured every piece of knowledge possible and yet still feels the hunger and absence and cannot figure out why. It's goal has been achieved, it should be satisfied and yet it starves....

A piece of Mora is within a vessel when the Gods are successful and destroy Apocrypha and the rest of its matter. Mora is left stranded within this vessel in a realm that is not its own. Bonus if Mora had not discovered the desire for the other entities to see its true erasure. Either one can help it regain or gain something new and maybe even guide it differently while in this isolated and honestly "fragile" state, or watch it become unhinged with this isolation and disconnection.

Weakened / powerless Mora. Similar to above but the destruction is not necessary, just that it other than what knowledge it has gained Mora owns none of its normal powers / abilities. Bonus if it is in a lesser form funnier if it is like an octopus or something.

A very pointless but amusing one- your muse figuring out Mora is only Daedra by title not by the actual rules and logic of them. Something like trying to find its nymic to use against it and finding out there is none.

I'm sure more will come

[sinnohsiblings]

Response to (this) from @singularity-and-co Hearing his annoyance she gave Singularity a sympathetic look, "I don't know how your father expects you three to be able to truly enjoy or care about your world if he doesn't let you experience all it has to offer. I mean...What was the point in creating a world if it wasn't meant to be a home all of you can enjoy. Is it an ego thing??" She said making an awkward gesture with her hands like she was trying to weigh out the possible foolish thoughts. "No wonder Epoch has issues, I can only fathom what your father did to him seeing what he did to you. Stars, if enjoying someone's company or dating is breaking a rule your father is the king of control freaks." When he complimented her bands she smiled, "See I agree! I would make pink look so good! Calama says he can't see the appeal of pink, but I think his eyes are failing him." She said starting to laugh. "And I only think my relationship with my brother and sister is as strong as it is because my parents went out of their way to instill in us that we were a team, we were meant to help each other and needed to respect each other. I mean yeah we still squabble on and off, families can disagree. But it's honestly disturbing how many creation gods are convinced to be indifferent or turn on their counterparts. How does anything get done?" She paused noticing his expression change and she turned around to look behind her, though she saw nothing she couldn't help but feel like she was being watched. Hopefully, it was just some nosy mortal who knew better than to interrupt. When he mentioned gardening being hard she perked up, "it gets easier once you know what you are doing. It's very difficult for some plants to thrive in the void given the fluctuating nature of it. Roses do absolutely terrible in it, But dandelion weeds seem to thrive, but those things grow through concrete so that's not the best example." She mused scratching her chin. When he complimented her appearance she blushed and instead of being coy about his flirty nature like she had been she leaned a bit closer to him over the table, "I like how forward and genuine you are with it." However as she listened to Singularity speak of his siblings she frowned, his father really had gone out of his way to make them hate each other, didn't he? She was going to comment on it but when Galaxis spawned and started to heckle his brother Galadriel pulled away from Sing and sat quietly watching. And while the Palkia probably wouldn't smell or taste the air, any Giratina could taste and smell exactly how she felt about his behavior...

Maybe disliked was an understatement...no...she HATED that. The fact that the second Singularity had a moment of peace to enjoy himself his sibling would be so selfish as to try and intentionally embarrass him and derail everything. It made the tendrils under Galadriels skin writhe as her anger boiled over, luckily she was clothed or someone would have noticed the snake-like tendrils slithering under her skin, breaking the clear illusion of a human woman. Thats when she paused enough to survey the situation. Lashing out would only ruin everyone's time but tasting the air and smelling the energy coming off the Palkia she knew exactly how to make him leave without a fight. And with her plan made she did not hesitate to execute it. She slammed her hands on the table and stood up to make a show.

Galadriel walked over and firmly tossed the chair Galaxis summoned to the side, "Besides the chairs your darling brother provided are much more comfortable and fitting to the night's theme than this silly old thing~ You wouldn't want to stick out or appear like an unwanted guest right~" She said with a sweet smile but malicious intent in her eyes. She placed one hand on Galaxis's shoulder blade, her claw-like nails pressed firmly against the fabric of his suit but not hard enough to do anything but give a firm example of the anger brewing under her skin as she gently guided him to the other side of the table, her other hand having left grooves and scars in the wood of the discarded chair from her not holding back her strength on the object. "Go on~ sit and join us, I wasn't made aware it was in your world's customs that family joins something as intimate as a first date. Something like that is seen as disrespectful where I am from, so forgive me for assuming we were only to enjoy one another in such a private setting. Had I known the difference I would have brought my darling big sister to entertain you, lord Galaxis." She said with a fake sigh of disappointment, making it very clear she was putting on an act and not hiding the fact she was. "But don't fret! I already know the best place to plant myself!" With that, she walked over to Singularity and...

"Your brother was being such enjoyable company I thought I may reward him with a token of my affection. Hopefully, that won't be a problem. After all, eventually, people dating will kiss the other~" She purred as she made herself comfortable. Again her face held such a sweet smile, as she leaned against Singularity.

[blossomwritesthings]

{ 𝟐𝟑:𝟒𝟏 } — 𝐣𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠

18+ content ahead. minors dni.

phone sex. softdom!jisung // sub!femreader. praise. teasing. fingering. sex toys (vibrator). jerking off. breast/nipple play. pet names. dirty talk.

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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). © ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

At one point, you just began to loose count of how many days he had been gone. 

  Your boyfriend Jisung had been on tour with Stray Kids for the past few months, traveling from one country to the next. And it seemed like every day that passed, you started to forget the feeling of him. 

  Of how it felt to wake up next to him every single morning. Of how it felt to be held by him late into the night. Of how it felt to smell his scent on every part of your shared apartment. 

  But at least your daily phone calls were still a thing between the two of you. 

  Jisung had had the idea to do such a thing just before he left for the tour, claiming that talking on the phone late at night would be easy enough since the time zones wouldn't be too much of an issue. Plus, if it was nighttime for him, he'd most likely be done with his schedules. 

  "Are you tired, baby?" He was asking you, voice filtering through the speaker of your phone. It trickled out and flooded around the shell of your ear as you held your device close to your head. Since they were currently touring in Manila, the time zone difference wasn't too bad, leaving both of you to be snuggled into your respective beds for the night. 

  "Mhm- not too much... just, the sound of your voice always relaxes me so much..." It wasn't a lie, either. The feel of it pushing against your ear through your phone speakers did wonders to ease you into sleep at the end of every night. And you found yourself looking forward to your daily calls, while you worked hard at your job in the daytime. 

  It was like a nice respite, to listen to him talk about his way and make you laugh with his stupid jokes. It was especially nice if you had had a shitty day. He was the perfect salve to calm your heart no matter the circumstances. 

  "What're you wearing right now, darling?" He suddenly asked, voice a little husky from how much he had used it at the concert that night. 

  You already felt the start of a blush creeping up your neck and pooling in your cheeks. "I-I don't know, why?" You didn't know why you were getting so nervous all of a sudden. Han Jisung was your boyfriend, for goodness sake, it shouldn't have felt weird for him to ask you such an innocent question. 

  "C'mon, tell me." He purred in that deep voice of his that he only used on you when it was late at night and you two were playing around with each other buried deep in your coverlets. 

  You took a resounding, shaky breath, feeling your heart race in your chest. "I'm in my summer pajamas. You know the ones- the shorts and tank top with the light pink heart print." You found your hands traveling down to your waistline under the bedsheets, fingers toying with the drawstring of your shorts. 

  "Hmm- I always loved that set on you," he mused, voice sounding a little far off like he was reminiscing about what you looked like in that exact moment - sprawled out in your bed, cuddled up in the covers with the phone pressed to your ear. "I bought that for you as a gift last Valentine's Day, right?" 

  You ran your palm down the length of your right leg, feeling the soft fabric of the shorts as you went. "Yeah... I still think it's one of the cutest things you've ever gotten me." 

  He was quiet for a moment, and all you could hear was his breathing. That was turning heavier, more solid, against your ear. Then, he was speaking again, but in a tone that was a little grave and lilting. "Bet you'd look even cuter without anything on..."

  "Jisung!" You blurted out, your cheeks erupting in heat from his suggestive comment. Your hand stopped its messaging of your leg, as you held your breath, waiting for his next words. 

  "You miss me, yeah?" He was suddenly questioning you, even though he already knew the answer. He knew that you thought about him every second of every single day that he was gone. You told him so on many occasions. "You'd do anything I told you to, right?" 

  You found yourself swallowing down a moan, the feeling catching in your throat and making your mind move like you were trapped in a vat of molasses. "Yes- yes, of course... you already know my answer to everything, Ji." 

  "Then I want you to play with yourself." 

 Choking on a strangled gasp, you felt your eyes widen in the shock of it all. But already - instinctually - your legs were pressing together, trying to garner some kind of friction without doing anything just yet. 

  "When's the last time you fingered yourself, babydoll?" Jisung's tone came out gravelly and hushed, and you heard him shift on his end of the phone, like he, too, was getting restless under the sheets.

  "L-Last week." 

  "And did I cross your mind, while you fucked yourself with your hands?" 

  "Y-You're always on my mind, babe... couldn't get the thought out of my head that it was you touching me, fucking those perfect, long fingers up into me." 

  "Where are your hands right now, princess?" He asked, and you were ashamed to admit that they were already stuck down the front of your pajama shorts, palm just barely ghosting over your heat. 

  "I-In my shorts." 

  "Good. Now, start to touch yourself." His command came out a little garbled like it was painful for him to talk. Like, he was already battling an oncoming orgasm as you were at that moment. 

 "Not unless you're doing the same thing." 

 At that, he let out a dark chuckle, and an image of him flashed across your mind - midnight black hair rumpled from a long day, eyes heavy-lidded, and a sardonic smirk pulling across his lips. "Oh, don't you worry about me, darling. I've been rutting into my hand since you first answered the phone tonight." 

  His confession left you quite dumbfounded, as you had had no idea. But how could you, since the two of you were miles apart? And besides, Jisung was good at downplaying shit. Downplaying his arousal when he needed to and masking his wants. 

  "Get that toy out, kitten," he commanded, thick tone cutting through your thoughts that were swarming with lust. "The one that I bought you for your birthday." 

  He meant the Rabbit. It was a vibrator that was famous, and after the two of you had watched a movie where the main girl had used it and sung its praises, he had decided to buy it for you as a surprise. It was big, and took some practice to get the hang of. But man, did it work. So much so, that you had to refrain from using it too much, otherwise you were afraid that you'd start to crave it more than your actual boyfriend. 

  Leaning over your bed, you reached into your nightstand, digging the large pink toy out from underneath a pile of junk. You grabbed the unflavored lube that you always kept there too. 

  "How wet are you?" He grunted, his voice shooting down your ear and pooling in your core. The way that it danced around the room from being on speakerphone did something odd to you. Made you go wild for it all.

  Dipping two fingers into your heat, you felt your essence there. "Fucking sopping, baby." Your thumb trailed up to your clit, toying with it in lazy circles. Imagining that it was Jisung touching you just so, you pressed your head into your pillow, whining out his name. "Fuck- I need you so bad." 

  "I know princess, I know... fuck, I'm just imaging you right now- pretty little cunt dripping with your sweet, sweet juices as I fuck my fingers up into you." His voice trailed off, as you delved into the feeling between your legs. Thrusting up slowly, your two fingers curled inside your walls, hitting that warm sweet spot and sending a burst of starlight across your closed eyes. "I want you to imagine that it's me right there- fingering you. Fuck yourself with the toy, baby girl, and imagine that it's me using it on you." 

  Without even realizing it, your hands were already moving, picking up the vibrator and centering it against your core. You peered down at it, a little bit of fear rising deep inside of you from the sight of the large girth. "It's so big, I-I don't know if-"

  "C'mon now kitten, you can take it," your boyfriend taunted in a playfully seductive way, making your cheeks bloom with a furious blush. "Your little pussy takes me all the time, and I'm much bigger." 

  With the help of his coaxing, you begin to slide the tip of the toy into you. Ever so slightly, with the help of the lube, it finally fits into your core just right. "Ngh- I've got it in." You gasped, your other hand that wasn't holding the toy traveling up to your chest, fingers playing with your tits, twisting and pulling on pert, sensitive nipples. "F-Feels so big, Ji." 

  "Good girl," he cooed darkly, and the praise went straight to your head. Made you feel all light and floaty, lighting a tiny flame of arousal inside of you. "Now turn on the vibrator." 

  You did as you were told, bracing yourself for the feeling of it all. And it hit you like a ton of bricks. The curved point of the toy hit deep inside of you, while the outside rabbit ears pressed against your swollen bundle of nerves. 

  "You gonna be a good girl and follow everything I say?" You could hear the muffled sound of him just beyond his voice. Of squelching juices, as he played with himself. As you imagined what he was doing at that moment - practiced hand tightening around his thick cock, squeezing up and down the length of himself while his thumb played with his red, swollen tip. 

  There was a pause on your end, as your thoughts tripped over themselves, heart rattling against your ribcage. Your wetness poured out of you and mixed with the lube, causing a messy scene between your legs, and coating the white sheets underneath you. 

"Always, Ji." You finally managed to answer in a choked groan, as you began to move the toy around, thrusting in and out shallowly. 

  Jisung's voice came out husky against your ears. Grating, even. It sounded like he was already close to the edge of release - since apparently, he had been edging himself for hours during your phone call. "Then turn up the vibrator to the highest setting, babydoll. I wanna hear you scream my name while you fuck yourself on it."  

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[yuri-is-online]

Hi Yuri! I hope you are doing well<333 I really enjoy reading your writing and I am always more fond of reading the little octatrio fish gang! I dont really know how this usually works because I never send in any asks at all nor do I see your rules list or anything but if you dont mind I would like to make a request<3

A mc who finds an out of tune and old piano and fondly remembers that they used to play piano back in their world. And perhaps Azul hears in on this and despite the piano being old and out of tune, it is rather beautiful how you play it because of how imperfect the notes are being played out. (SORRY I WAS LISTENING TO FALLEN DOWN AND THE FEELINGS WERE JUST SURGING AND THE BRAINROT WAS TOO MUCH)

You dont have to force yourself or anything! Please take care and dont feel too pressured! <3

The Most Romantic of All Arts (Azul Ashengrotto x Yuu)

Hello dear friend and I am doing quite well thank you! I'm pleased you like my writing; the octotrio is what finally cracked my resolve to check out Twisted Wonderland and put FGO on the back burner so I suppose I shouldn't beat myself up too much for writing about them so much. I am sorry I caused you stress with my lack of rules, I don't usually send requests or asks myself, so I felt really bad to have frightened you. Not too sure if this will end up being what you had in mind, it got away from me a bit.

Also when you say Fallen Down, you do mean the Undertale soundtrack piece right? It's a soothing song I listened to it while I was plotting this to try and get into a similar headspace.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, header taken from the painting Spirit by George Roux (1885) which I found on this wordpres blog article I took the title from, it's a neat painting, Azul learning to find beauty and love in imperfections is important to me ok? Other works can be found on my masterlist here.

Sometimes you wonder if Ramshakle is sentient. The old building has more rooms than you know what to do with, and lovely as the ghosts are they don't fully remember what they were used for, if they remembered in the first place. But still there was something about those rooms that seemed to love you; he guest room almost built itself up around you, the kitchen had only needed some basic repairs before it was ready to help play host again, and no matter where a fire place was found it was always eager to burst to life and warm you and Grim.

It does not have the same love for Azul, he'd complained as much when you talked about just what it was he wanted with the building after the events of his overblot had cooled between you.

"It's got a graveyard in front of it, though?" That really had been the crux of your whole argument. It was hard to be annoyed with his laugh when it sounded so nice, the genuine amusement a refreshing difference to his previous performitive indifference.

"Yes," he muses, sipping at his real before he continues, "I'm not bothered by that much, ghosts and grave ships aren't uncommon sights under the sea, but I always forget how unusual humans think they are."

"There's a lot of superstitions about places where people are buried." You mean it as an explanation, but it brings an odd look to Azul's face, like there's an emotion bubbling beneath his surface he doesn't want to acknowledge but is too strong to suppress. It settles over you both, as you try to focus on drinking your tea while your host seems content to let his grow cold.

"Well, I suppose it's a good thing that ruin isn't really sentient." He sounds almost bitter, disappointed in how long he has let his drink cool you decide as he reaches for the pot and warms it with some fresh tea. "Otherwise, I'd accuse it of trying to keep you."

It's a silly thought, but the sight of this latest discovery really does have you wondering. You are supposed to be in that wonderfully accommodating kitchen making snacks for when Azul decides to "coincidentally drop by" later this evening to "go over the Lounge's expenses" in your guest room. On a Tuesday. When it was almost guaranteed business would be slow enough to keep anyone from wondering too hard about where he'd gone or the twins from being too upset about running things. But instead of "just wanting to try" a new recipe, you are here, tucked in a room just a bit further down the hall from the guest room watching Grim give his best impression of Ace after completing a magic trick. Because stars know he has never seen any other magicians.

"TA-DA!" He puts both of his paws out to really sell the piano at the window. "See, I told you I had a great surprise!"

"I'm sorry for not believing you." You say and try not to laugh with just how much more proud that seems to make him. "But where did you find this? Or how I guess, unless you moved it?"

"Nah." He shakes his head before remembering he's supposed to be the "great" Grim. "I mean I could have! But I'm just so cool I managed to find a piano here already, so all I had to do was clean it up instead! You're welcome henchuman." You scratch just behind his ears and politely ignore his purrs as you examine the piano and its bench. They're old, likely just as ancient as everything else in the dormitory and likely extremely, achingly out of tune. But the mere sight of it makes your fingers itch, and Grim barely has to whine "Well ain't you gonna play somethin'?" Before you're at the bench, experimentally pressing the keys to try and sound out something.

Twinkle twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are-

You hum it rather than sing, irrationally worried Grim will somehow figure out it's a lullaby and complain that you're babying him instead of cutely dancing along with the music like it's one of the cassettes Deuce let you borrow. He cheers for another, and you oblige, letting your muscle memory carry you as far as it can as you try searching your brain for just what it was you wanted most to hear from yourself after all this time being unable to play.

And missing the click of a heavy door down the hall in the effort.

Azul hears nothing at first, and though it does disappoint, it does not bother him. He's had a long day, one about to be made longer still by the grey zone already draping itself around his thoughts as he shrugs his blazer off to his shoulders while en route to the Ramshackle guest room. He pauses, for what he tells himself is only going to be second, at the kitchen door and is left unrewarded for his detour.

You aren't there: and that does bother him somewhat, even if it should not if his pretext is to be believed. These visits were too commonplace to be random, but maybe you'd made plans, deciding not to look past his excuses for the evening. Maybe you were asleep, tired of the day or just plain tired of him. But there is a kettle sat on it's base, mercifully not on just yet, but two mugs and the pour over cone set next to as if it was expecting company. The nerves remain knotted in his stomach, though the cause shifts towards something more welcome.

So you do have a mug purposefully set aside and designated just for him, and is that a little recpie card with notes on coffee taped to that tin? These things should worry him, the picture he snaps and immediately hides in a folder should be for a purpose. But it's separate from those ones, labeled something inane and barely full with how careful he is to have his longing remain unseen. He wonders, briefly if it would be an intrusion to make the drinks himself. If it would reveal to much to show outright he knows the way you take yours instead of just saying it in time with your order, but knows that would not be the exact issue here. He is a guest, and guests limit themselves to the halls and that room he forces himself, with haste that would be noticeable if you were there to see it, back down the hall and back towards the guest room. Azul has work to do, he can content himself with the warmth the mental image the cups on the counter produces until something forces him to pause at a door once more. The piano is old, droning out a tune that is unpolished and rusty from the player's lack of practice but filled with such a specific sort of joy it has him actually running towards it.

You sit at the bench, a serious look of determination on your face so unlike the usual Yuu it can't help but be cute. Grim sleeps contentedly on your lap as you continue searching for the threads of melody still trapped inside your head from years of only occasionally reluctant practice. It's an unfamiliar tune in composition, but not in feel. There's words to this song, maybe not in the form of lyrics, but there all the same for him to stumble even closer to as he comes to a halting stop just behind you and the music ends in a surprised crash as you whip your head around to see him.

"Azul!"

"Very sorry to interrupt." He holds up both hands in surrender, composure only just maintained as you check to see Grim still asleep and laugh nervously. "I didn't know you could play."

"Can't really." You say somewhat bitterly and more confidence comes to Azul as a slight plan froms in his mind. "I'm really out of practice ugh. I know it shouldn't annoy me! But with how everything's been since I showed up, it's just not been on my mi- Oh hello?"

Azul fully removes his jacket and sets it on a side table close to where he had been satanding, moving to sit on the bench next to you. He has enough mercy not to loosen his tie or do anything else scandalous, but the close examination he gives to the keys could have fooled you. "Pity it's so out of tune, this is a nice piano."

"I know right! I'm really happy Grim found it." You resist the urge to poke his cheeks some and Azul lightly, trying not to too openly relish in your surprise reaches one arm around your back to place his hands into a similar position as you had been earlier, tucking you close to his side.

"May I?" He's smug. Too smug it's robbing you of sanity.

"What's it going to cost?" You try too hard not to sound like you're flailing as you look to see your question hasn't even phased him at all.

"Oh normally I wouldn't dream of charging for a performance," he clearly lies "but it's been such a long day I wouldn't say no to a cup of coffee." And he's off, music only marred by the off key of the piano in a clearly purposeful display of talent meant to sear itself into your mind enough that you don't think about his request too long. You and he are from two different worlds, but he knows that music has a way of gapping that if the stories of the mermaid princess told him anything at all. So when he purposefully slows the song at its end, he knows you know, that tricky smile he swore once he'd always hate kicking his heartbeat up again as you lean fully against his shoulder.

"Beautiful." You say, not bothering to give the compliment direction as he can't help but agree. "We should play together next time."

"I-" You pick yourself up and what he wants to say slows when you pick up his jacket for him and hold out a hand. Later, he all to easily decides. Later, without Grim and with specific time set purposefully aside so you know just how much it matters. "I would like that. You'll have to show me the songs that you can remember from your world." And he takes your hand just to soothe some of the ache, trying and failing not to show just how happy he is when you keep it.

[mysticode54]

I stumbled across a Japanese article where Fumito Ueda, Yoko Taro, and Keiichiro Toyama had a publicized discussion about their careers and the video game industry as whole. This discussion was organized primarily to celebrate ICO's 20th anniversary in late 2021. So the folks over at Den Faminico Gamer requested concept art from all across ICO's development cycle to present throughout the 3 pages of conversation. And I don't know who was responsible for the task of transferring that, but they gave them A Lot of concept art. Many of these sheets have not been shared by genDESIGN's twitter, or really seen on any other site to my knowledge. There's some exclusive stuff in here. And even if they were seen somewhere before, I still want to translate them to the best of my ability and share the info. So I'm going to guide you through the sheets I found the most interesting. I'll also try to provide context for any cut content and musings on the lore elements being spelled out on the page. [Spoilers for ICO under the cut]

CUT AREAS

Jail

[I've decided to leave the original page untouched in all my translation images, and keep all added text to the black bars at the sides. I'm also including plain Japanese text in dark grey, just so everyone is clear on how I am interpreting the handwritten notes.] This area is titled "Jail" or "Prison" and it was to be put on the second story of the East Arena. This means that, in early designs, the leftmost door was meant to be opened on arrival. It seems you would navigate the diagonal water slope, make it up to this area, and briefly move outside for the sake of slipping into one of these locked cells. After doing so, you move a shelf aside, find the sword, enter a fight, and then use the sword on the rope holding the far right arena door. Having a jail cell next to the arena is very intriguing from a narrative standpoint. Were the cells for those who broke the rules set in place by the arena's organizers? Or was the arena always intended to be sparring matches between criminals and outcasts? Why is the only way onto the balcony found through one of these cells?

Boatshed

[In the black bars, text relating directly to the contents of the sketch will have drawn elements next to them, so you can better see what translation is paired with what part of the drawing. If it ever gets confusing, shoot me an ask and I'll clarify/edit the post.] The day after drawing up the concept for the Jail area, the team sketched the Boatshed, which was also cut. This area is reflective of an earlier, less bombastic ending to ICO, which Ueda briefly mentioned during Sony's "Great Scene Sharing" campaign in 2011.

Also, to be honest we weren’t planning to have the castle collapse entirely like that. We were originally thinking to have the ending of ICO be much more modest, but somehow it didn’t give you a feeling of resolution that way. And so we decided “Ok, let’s make everything crumble into the sea then.” (laughs)

The most intriguing aspect of this cut concept is a kind of Idol Fence Gate that reacts to Yorda in the same way as the Idol Doors, only in this case it is powered by a mask. The mask's face shape is somewhere between a man and a bull, with the moderately sized horns completing the animal resemblance. There seems to be a gem or circular marking embedded into the forehead as well. The text makes mention that the gate 'listens' to the mask (assuming I'm translating that correctly), so perhaps it had a specific auditory or musical cue planned for when it reacts to Yorda? But perhaps not. A concept page like this would be the perfect place to write that idea in clear detail, after all.

Heroine Room Connection

This is not exactly a cut area, but it is certainly a heavily altered one. This spot would later become the floor of Spiral Staircase, where Yorda is held prisoner in the first act of the game. We can see this intention by its proximity to 'The Heroine's Room' and the series of Idol Doors set up as the introduction to Yorda's unique power. (There's even a sketch detailing how this arrangement of four idols are supposed to part when opened, and it matches up with the movement of the idols in Spiral exactly.) The most notable feature of this area seems to be a set of stairs leading up into a small room with a trench in it. In the trench is a box and a small crevice in the wall. The crevice is labelled 'Heroine', which, to me, implies that Ico might have been able to see or hear Yorda through this crack in the wall. But since this room is a dead end, I imagine you use the box in some way to activate the other set of stairs, which seem to have both a upward and downward status depending on whether you've solved the puzzle or not. This is very similar in concept to a puzzle presented elsewhere in the final game. At either ends of the room are two doorways. One direction is labelled 'Ko Building', which we will discuss later in this post. But the entrance to this room is through the Ritual Room... which we also have concept art for!

Ritual Room

Similarly to the last sheet, this sketch depicts elements that would end up placed elsewhere, but the overall design of this room was cut. The Ritual Room was seemingly designed before the team had come up with the final design of the Altar Room. The Ritual Room bears many of its elements, but has a much larger scope and seems to serve as a junction between several parts of the building.

Common elements include:

The floor raising and lowering to open a path to the Stage 13 Elevator. The notes even clarify that this will only occur in the game's "2nd act". In this version of the mechanism, a handrail rises up when the floor lowers.

Capsules in which to place sacrifices. Though they aren't clearly depicted, they seem to be embedded into the ground, rather than standing up.

Restricted access to the high up Idol Doors. In the final game, they lead to The Queen's throne room. Here it leads to Proto, the earliest room designed in the game. It's unclear how you earn access to the doors, but the 'OFF' label indicates that the stairs must rise, or else it remains a vertical wall.

But one big difference that stands out is the palanquin-like structure at the center, which reminds me of the structure that surrounds The Queen's throne. Given the title of the room, we can infer this was meant to be the spot where the Queen's ritual would be held.

Notes in the margins indicate two innocuous, but fascinating things: - The note regarding what might open the Idol Doors for the village men likely marks the conception of The Queen's Sword. - Yorda's voice was meant to be heard from this room, and she would've been singing. She doesn't get to sing to herself in the finished product, though I think that characteristic fits her well.

Flowchart of the Second Half

Once it became clear to Ueda that the ending had to be more resolute and bombastic, they devised the Main Gate Event and laid out a plan for all the places you would traverse on your journey to the throne room. You might notice that locations like Cliff Cage, Cogwheel, and Pipe have different prototype names and some visual differences. The first location on the journey back, later known as Cage, is titled 'Ruins'. It seems to feature a series of overhang structures jutting out from the cliff-side. Presumably, these would catch Ico after his fall. The titular cages of the present incarnation seem to be absent, but we can see them close by, in the area that will become known as Cogwheel. Instead named 'Subterranean Lake' in this document, Cogwheel seems to lack any of its characteristic mechanisms. In this sketch, one of the cages seems to have fallen from the ceiling into the water below. In the final game, we move from Cogwheel to the outer edge of the island, where Ico clings tightly to the ridges of the cliff-side. But in this concept art, all of that distance is spent on a new area, completely cut from the final release, called 'Trolley Jump'. It seems the trolley would make a second appearance in the game's puzzle design and Ico would have to build up momentum to make it over a huge gap in the tracks. The Pipe area is named 'Ravine' instead. And the metallic platform is set far lower than it is in the final game, where you can just walk across it to make it to the elevator. Here, you must descend onto it and then climb up into a cavern, once you make it to the other side. You might've also seen that the the Old Bridge is titled 'ICO Bridge' in this document. This is especially interesting to me, as the name ICO seems to serve a different purpose here than you would expect.

What is “ICO (イコ)”, really?

Kenji Kaido has stated in the Japanese Guidebook for the game that the name 'ICO' was just the title, and initially, was never attributed to the boy protagonist (Page 82). He was nameless and only referred to as 'Boy', much like the protagonist of The Last Guardian is currently. The game's filenames, the concept art, and even Kaido's own presentation of the E3 2000 demo to PlayStation Underground, back this sentiment. The term 'ICO' is never attached to the boy before June or July of 2000, when US gaming publications reporting on E3 2000's demo started conflating the title with the protagonist's name. Seeing as this is dated in March of 2000, it's safe to say the use of 'ICO' here has nothing to do with the boy. So what is it about? Ueda did also say that the name was a shortening of the term ICON... but I have additional evidence suggesting that in this specific instance, it was not serving as an abbreviation for 'ICON Bridge'. Take a look at this rough overview sketch from the margins of a different concept art page.

Aside from the points that indicate land and sea, the labels that plainly stick out are "イ棟" and "コ棟".

"I Building" and "Ko Building". We saw that last label earlier in the Heroine Room Connection section.

Knowing this, we can safely infer that it's called イコ Bridge because it connects the イ and コ buildings... But then why are they split in that way and labelled イ and コ? I still don't have an answer for this, though I do feel like the divide is related to the separation of class. The イ building is dedicated to The Queen. It contains both her daughter and the sacrifices she needs to complete her ritual. It's where her throne is. It's where she resides and does her work. Meanwhile, everything on the other side of this bridge seems to have been built for a larger populous.

Benches, recreational areas, spectated arena matches, a waterfall, a courtyard, a ballroom with a massive chandelier! You don't build a front gate and a bridge to the mainland if you never wanted people to enter... This place undeniably once had people who lived and worked here. They were all designated under the コ building. I have to imagine this is why a distinction is being made, but beyond that, the reasoning for the titles remains a mystery. If someone has further insight into Japanese linguistics or culture, and have additional guesses as to why, please let me know.

Cut Boss Fight

In the West Arena (labelled 'R' for 'Right' in early development), there was going to be another raised cage event. Only this time it would take the form of a boss fight with a massive shadow that overtakes the floor and splays black tendrils through the air. Interestingly, there is already an overhead bridge in this image, but rather than magically appearing in stone segments, it's instead an ordinarily constructed wooden bridge. Here, the notes detail a different kind of puzzle element: Wire. Which, unlike ropes, cannot be cut by the sword. The same note indicates that wire is holding the left and right doors in place. While the concept art doesn't detail it plainly, I believe the only way past this room would be to pull on the "Idol Handle" that the boss is covering. Wire is also presumably being used for the zip-line running across the arena, which is an interesting component to say the least. The vision I'm gathering is that you'd ride the zip-line, hit X at the right time to drop down onto the overhead bridge, run over to the balcony where the 'Cage Switch' is labelled, and activate it to impede the boss. How it is then defeated is less clear. It's also unclear where Yorda would have been throughout this encounter, or if there would be additional enemies trying to drag her into a nest. Its possible the boss itself would be programmed to capture her with a tendril, and itself act as a nest by dragging her into the depths of itself. But we have no evidence one way or the other. [Ok, that's all the stuff I have to present for now. Keep in mind that there's more to see and translate in the article I linked at the very start. This post was only scratching the surface, despite the amount of material we covered. With that in mind, thank you for making it this far.]

Support

Now is as good a time as any to mention I've started up a Ko-Fi, so people can choose to support the work I do to uncover and present obscure info like this. There is, of course, no obligation to give me anything. The tips just help me get a bit of financial security in return for my efforts.

[livingthedragonlife]

i make good playlists too sometimes. listen to it maybe?

explanations for why i chose the songs under the cut because i miss 8tracks. BIG HUGE SPOILER WARNING if you haven’t read/finished the manga!!!

Pure Love by Mother Mother — I always liked this song as a comforting presence but you could also read it as a sinister one. Definitely leaning into the sinister version here. I was also thinking of the innocent beginnings of the Winged Lion, just a little speck granting tiny desires before it was drawn "like a moth to a flame" to bigger ones. And the rest is history.

Remain Nameless by Florence + the Machine —

But know I'll always be around This can remain the same

Call me when you need me Call me anything you want Darling, believe me Nothing I haven't done before

The King by Anjimile — This one just gives me the vibes of how the power of being a dungeon lord drives everyone insane.

The Cage by Vera Sola — Deeply Mithrun

Under A Dome by Of Monsters and Men —

I'm taking over my own throne I’m holding my heart and it's overgrown I'm kicking out and I’m full of life So why should I cry over northern lights? And it's over now and I'm falling

It Will Come Back by Hozier — This WHOLLEE song is just. The Winged Lion in a nutshell. It's the entire premise.

Thousand Eyes by Of Monsters and Men — The dungeon lords can see through all their monster servants. A thousand of them even

Everybody Wants to Rule The World by Lorde — "uh oh shit is getting real"

Moderation by Florence + the Machine — The Winged Lion having absolutely no chill

Never Pleased by Portugal. The Man —

No I'm not Jesus but I'm more than a man I'll never grow old or lonely or sad Still I'm never pleased I'm never pleased

From the corners until I wake up walking as careful can be Careful to miss out on all that I see I'm never pleased

Tethered to the Dark by Anya Marina — The way the Winged Lion can manipulate you in fucked up ways you didn't even know were possible

Dangerous by Son Lux —

Are you dangerous? Carved right into my bed Quick lobotomy Then left me for dead

Mr. Lonely (feat. Fat Lip) by Portugal. The Man — Ultimately, being a dungeon lord leaves you alone and obsessed and with ultimate power that you don't even have full control over.

Forever by Mother Mother — Marcille's motivation but also the Winged Lion's? Marcille essentially never wants to see anyone her loves die ever again, and the Winged Lion wants to feast on desires forever. Unfortunately, entropy.

Guilty Filthy Soul by AWOLNATION — The Winged Lion doing some more crazy manipulation.

Propaganda by Muse — Obviously the dungeon lords are taken in by the Winged Lion's "propaganda," it "eats souls," it "toys with the truth." BUT!! Mortal desire is also something the Winged Lion "can't refuse." It's convinced by its own lies. Did I just blow your mind

Carnivorous by Band of Skulls — Eating yummy desires om nomnomnom

Little Monster by Royal Blood — The Winged Lion wants to eat Laios sooooo bad and this is a song about that.

Animals by Muse — LAIOS IS GONNA ENSURE HIS OWN SURVIVAL!!!!!!!!

Leave My Body by Florence + the Machine — The Winged Lion leaves its own body to steal Laios', for "one grand moment." Laios leaves his own body to be become a monster. But the Winged Lion loses a lot more than its mind in that arrangement! I feel like the "Your history keeps pulling me, pulling me down" part can be interpreted in this context as like... the history of life. Of survival. Finite resources, something the Winged Lion will never understand. Florence Welch did not intend for this to be what her song was about but I don't care it's blorbo time

[nalyra-dreaming]

Hey nalyra!

I was hoping you could sort of help put some thoughts in order.

So, what I keep seeing often is the discourse of lestat deserving the murder night vs lestat did not deserve it and that's why paris happens.

On one hand I agree murder night "needed" to happen bc the household had turned too toxic for all of them and something had to give ( and lestat did not seem about to relent on anything tbh ).

And then we have lestat himself saying he would have done the same thing and in a way its his fault things ended up the way they did. ( and we have sam saying lestat needs to be humbled to start a character journey in the next seasons)

On the other hand, there is the argument that paris happened because lestat did not deserve what happened in murder night and murder night was a mistake that claudia and louis paid for with the trial.

I find it hard to agree with the latter (it sounds too punitive and I don't think the trial had anything to do with actual rules it was all armand getting back at lestat and getting louis to himself) but as a lestat fan it was hard to watch murder night and say lestat deserved it as well!!

What are your thoughts on this whole mess? 🤔 😅

Okay, so... I personally think it is not that clear cut.

Because there are a lot of things involved in all of this.

For one - I keep saying - the abuse itself is in the book, so Louis did experience it as abuse, at least at times.

Now, Jacob has said that Louis "presents Lestat as a monster", because he is hurt by what happened. So Louis exaggerates (at the very least a little bit) - for reasons.

However, a tale is also always built on truth.

The Lestat in the book was very young still, and had a temper (well, he does not lose that, lol). Louis remarks on not saying something because he feared Lestat would destroy the parlor in a rage. They fight. And so on. Canon. The Lestat in the show is older, and jaded through loneliness - I personally think that is a great way to introduce the more bitter parts of the relationship, because it lends towards possessiveness and a certain remoteness, because he just sees it very, very differently to Louis, and sometimes cannot really empathize with Louis' actual problems. (Sam notes on that in the podcast, too.)

Now. When Lestat says in TVL that Claudia attacking him was "something he might have done himself"... then that refers to him trapping her in a too small, too fragile, too weak body - for eternity.

He knows he should not have made her. He is aware of that. That is what he refers to there:

From TVL:

But what had I done to Claudia? And when would I have to pay for that? How long was she content to be the mystery that bound Louis and me so tightly together, the muse of our moonlit hours, the one object of devotion common to us both? Was it inevitable that she who would never have a woman's form would strike out at the demon father who condemned her to the body of a little china doll? [...] And on a warm sultry night in the spring of the year 1860, she rose up to settle the score. She enticed me, she trapped me, and she plunged a knife over and over again into my drugged and poisoned body, until almost every drop of the vampiric blood gushed out of me before my wounds had the precious few seconds in which to heal. I don't blame her. It was the sort of thing I might have done myself. And those delirious moments will never be forgotten by me, never consigned to some unexplored compartment of the mind. It was her cunning and her will that laid me low as surely as the blade that slashed my throat and divided my heart. I will think on those moments every night for as long as I go on, and of the chasm that opened under me, the plunge into mortal death that was nearly mine. Claudia gave me that.

From Merrick:

Cover her face; mine eyes dazzle; she died young. I winced at the recollection. Lestat had been condemning himself when he'd spoken those words to her, he'd been offering himself up to her rage. She'd known it.

And here is the crux of it all: "murder night" does need to happen in the grand scheme of things in order to bring both Louis and Lestat onto their journey... they both need to get a reality check, both need to be hauled low so to speak to be able to ultimately heal and the justification is what was done to Claudia (not Louis). And to find peace with themselves.

However, and here is the "problem", if you will - this crime against nature, against Claudia was not only done by Lestat. And that is what her diary entry from "Merrick" is about, and what I believe we already saw hints for in the trial scene when she turns to Louis... Claudia blamed both. "It was never about me." And we saw that already in the show when Claudia argues with Louis before leaving in episode 5, too.

She decided to go and try to kill Lestat, because she thought she could handle Louis more easily.

From Merrick:

To do away with Louis would be foolish, as he is without question the more malleable of the pair. [...] Louis will do as I wish, even unto the very destruction of Lestat, which I plan in every detail. Whereas Lestat would never cooperate with my designs upon Louis. So there my loyalty lies, under the guise of love even in my own heart.

Now, don't get me wrong, I concur with Bailey and Delainey in that Claudia is very justified in her rage, imho :) And... both Lestat and Louis feel the same way, they carry the guilt of what they did to her until the very end.

Now, Paris.

Paris... did happen because Louis and (mostly) Claudia factoring things in) did make a mistake.

They thought (mostly Claudia, and the show hints at that in that episode 6 sex scene when she says to Louis that they "cannot be all like him") that Lestat was the worst.

Like the big bad vampire™, the worst of the worst™, and him (certainly) making mistakes or having a temper or even physically fighting with Louis was the absolute worst that could possibly happen to them.

And that... is the (big, fatal) mistake that is being made.

The show gave us Lestat already brushing Paris off, so I believe show Louis will be a bit more... careful when they get there. A bit more reluctant. Nonetheless, neither Claudia nor Louis are prepared for the old world covens. Or their rules.

Lestat kept them mostly human, a family, because Marius had advised him to do so.

Claudia and Louis, despite their run-ins with the revenants, have no concept of the rules, the viciousness, nor the strength to defend themselves.

They kill off their only protection (so to speak) - and will pay for it.

I believe in one of the interviews it was called "out of the frying pan and into the fire", and that is, unfortunately, very fitting.

That is why "murder night" was a mistake... in Claudia's calculation.

Louis will come to the realization that he "hated Lestat for the wrong reasons" in the second half of IWTV. He will come to a lot of realizations, painful realizations, unfortunately.

Ultimately, it boils down to this, I think (very simplified):

No, Lestat (probably) did not deserve "murder night" for what Louis tries to argue for in s1. Because those reasons will turn out to be the wrong reasons, unfortunately, and likely for a variety of reasons (cue "tinkering" and "suppressed memories")

Yes, Lestat (probably) deserved "murder night" for not heeding Marius' warning. For not trying hard enough, too, maybe. For condemning someone that young. For trapping Claudia (and, by extension Louis) like that.

"I should have listened to Marius's warning. I should have stopped for one moment to reflect on it as I stood on the edge of that grand and intoxicating experiment: to make a vampire of "the least of these. " I should have taken a deep breath."

But he did not.

And the tragedy unfolds.