#someone can do something that hurts you or sometimes it's just who they are or choices that they make that disappoint you

[ja3yun]

Love Me Tender | S.JY

bf!jaeyun x gf!reader warnings: smut (mdni), soft-dom jake, oral (f. rec), unprotected sex, cream pie, wax play, knife play, bondage, leather gloves, pussy slapping (once), nipple play, not proof read, anything else lmk. wc: 10.2k synopsis: when your tender, loving boyfriend jaeyun overhears a conversation about you wishing he was a bit rougher in bed, he vows to make sure you're completely satisfied, catering to all your hearts desires. a/n: hi! this is something i had sitting in my mind but also this is for my girl @yzzyhee because i genuinely cannot express my love or gratitude more than semi-dom, blonde jake. i hope you love it, mars and just know that i am and always will be proud of you, no matter what.

“It’s great and, fuck, I love him so much. He’s the best thing that ever happened to me. It’s just…”

Just what?

Jaeyun halts abruptly outside your bedroom door as your muffled voice drifts through the wood. Having just returned from work, he had eagerly sprinted up the stairs upon seeing your shoes by the doorway, signalling your presence. Now, that excitement has dissipated, replaced by a creeping anxiety that crawls over his skin.

His mind races through every minor mistake he might have made in the past week to prompt you to discuss your relationship with someone else. No, you haven’t mentioned his name, he can’t fathom the idea of another man being the ‘best thing that ever happened to you’, so he jumps to conclusions.

Was it because he didn't clean on his day off last week? Or perhaps because he brought home that stray dog and begged you to keep her, even though neither of you had the time to give it the love it deserved? Jaeyun bites his bottom lip, pondering the meaning behind your words.

Leaning closer, he presses his hand against the door frame and hovers his ear just above the slit in the door to hear you better. In his eyes, everything in your relationship is more than fine, so he’s desperate to understand how he can fix whatever is wrong. If Jaeyun is determined to do one thing right in his life, it’s to be your perfect boyfriend.

The house is as quiet as a hairdresser's salon on a Monday morning, the silence thick and suffocating, until you break it with a sigh. “I just wish he was a bit rougher,” you finally say aloud, causing Jaeyun’s eyes to widen and ears to perk up. 

Of all the things in the world, he never expected you to say that. What do you mean rougher? He taps his foot on the carpet, as if trying to hurry your conversation along to hear your explanation. “He’s not bad in bed, far from it actually; he does this thing with his tongue that sends me to heaven…”

You trail off, and Jaeyun can vividly picture how you’re standing: your pretty pink lips caught between your teeth, a coy smile on your face, and your thighs rubbing together as you shift on your feet. There is a tiny swelling of pride adding to his emotions as you speak.

He knows how much you love his tongue, so much so that you’re often begging for it most nights and cumming on his face within minutes. His mind flashes back to those nights, your moans echoing in his memory.

That’s why it’s so hard for him to grasp what you’re talking about. He is rough with you to an extent - spanking your ass, sometimes tying you up, even pulling at your hair. Was that not enough for you? He’s always been scared of hurting you, even in those moments, so he can’t imagine going further than that. The thought of causing you pain, even unintentionally, sends a shiver down his spine.

“Yeah, exactly,” you agree with whoever is on the other line, “I want to just be manhandled and fucked like in the books we read or those Twitter porn videos. It’s just never going to happen, not with Jaeyun.”

Jaeyun’s body grows hot with nerves, goosebumps rising on his skin at your implication. Not with Jaeyun. What if you get bored every time he makes love to you and eventually leave him for someone else, someone who can fulfil those fantasies? The idea of losing you to someone else, someone who might treat you with the roughness you crave, makes his stomach churn with dread.

Oh, no. No, no, no. He cannot and will not let that happen. He refuses to lose you over something like this.

“Anyway, he’ll be home soon… No, I can’t say anything. You know how much he loves me. If I start asking him to edge me or bring a knife to a love fight, he would freak the fuck out,” you laugh disheartened, intending it as a joke but the sentence coming out as distant longing.

Jaeyun’s breath catches in his throat at the mention of a knife. You don’t mean a physical one right? It has to be a metaphor and you don’t want him to actually bring out the good kitchen knives and chop you up like yesterday’s salad? He’s not even a chef, never mind a butcher.

He hears you say your final goodbyes to your friend, causing him to silently run back to the top of the stairs, creating the facade that he has just arrived home. Just as he gets into place, you swing open your bedroom door and jolt back for a moment, surprised to see him there.

Swallowing the mix of hurt and apprehension, Jaeyun flashes the smile you fell in love with at first sight and walks over to you, pretending he didn’t hear a thing. “Hi, baby,” he says as chirpily as he can manage given the circumstances, walking towards you with an air of forced nonchalance.

“Hey, Jaeyun,” you say, looking him up and down with furrowed brows. “Babe, why are you so… all over the place?” The question isn’t misplaced. Despite his best attempts to conceal his true emotions, his body betrays him. His chest heaves as if he’s out of breath, his face is still flushed with a mix of embarrassment and nerves, and his hands tremble slightly.

“Oh, just those stairs, you know how they kill me,” he lets out a tense chuckle, trying to pass it off as his aversion to the gym.

Narrowing your eyes, you pout sceptically at his response, clearly not buying it. Your boyfriend might not frequent the gym, but he certainly plays football every Wednesday with his workmates, and his stamina during sex is nothing short of impressive. There’s definitely something else going on.

Now it’s your turn to get bitten by the anxiety bug. Surely he hadn’t overheard your conversation with Yeojeong just now? You would never be able to forgive yourself if he did because, in your mind, it wasn’t a complaint, just a small, wistful desire. But if he overheard, he might think it meant you were dissatisfied with him, even though that couldn't be further from the truth.

You blame the dark romance BookTok recommendations you've been indulging in for your sudden craving for a little, or a lot, of spice. That, and the three-month fascination you had with Ghostface after watching Scream 6.

Before your mind can wander to your boyfriend wearing a delicious mask as he pounds into you, you shake your head to clear your thoughts and smile widely, choosing to believe him over your own worries for a change. 

Encircling your arms around his waist, you place a kiss on his chest as you always do, hoping the tenderness and love from your lips reach his heart. “I would say go to the gym with me, but I like you just as you are,” you say gently, hoping that if he did, in fact, hear the conversation, it will put his mind at ease. That, and because you mean it wholeheartedly.

There isn’t a man in the world that could compare to your boyfriend, and you wouldn’t want to change any aspect of him. Not his tardiness, not his gentleness, and certainly not his soul.

Jaeyun feels your warmth and the sincerity in your voice. Your words provide a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. He wraps his arms around you tighter, resting his chin on the top of your head. “I love you so fucking much, Y/N. You know I would do anything for you, right?”

You look up at him and nod. “I know, baby.”

It’s strange how you are both having a silent conversation with your words. Each of you is reassuring the other, yet meaning different things. You are telling him that despite your own fantasies, he would never have to change just to meet them. 

Jaeyun, on the other hand, is conveying his commitment that he’s about to fulfil each and every single one of them.

_____

Jaeyun waits anxiously for the sound of your keys jingling in the lock as you secure the door behind you. The moment he hears it, he springs into action, heart pounding with a mix of determination and trepidation. He’s taken the day off work specifically for this - a day to explore a world he has no right to be stepping into, but one he is compelled to understand for your sake.

As the sound of your footsteps fades away, Jaeyun makes his way to the bedroom, his sanctuary of comfort and intimacy. Today, however, it feels like uncharted territory. The room is filled with reminders of your shared life: photographs capturing moments of joy, your favourite books stacked neatly on the nightstand, and the scent of your perfume lingering in the air. It all feels both reassuring and daunting.

Jaeyun sits at your shared desk, his heart pounding as he opens your laptop. Rather than logging into his own account, he attempts to access yours. It’s not that you’ve ever hidden anything from him; he’s just never needed to know your password or lurk in your browsing history. You’ve always been an open book. That is, until now.

Determined to delve into your private world to better understand and satisfy your cravings in bed, Jaeyun convinces himself that his intentions are pure. Logging into your account and discovering any form of porn you might own feels inherently better than randomly searching the internet. Surely, you must have a treasure trove of knowledge about your desires just sitting in plain sight, waiting to be explored. He just needs the password to unlock it.

Staring at your account login screen, he watches the cursor blink patiently in the password box. His mind races, trying to guess what it could be. The first thing that comes to mind is your anniversary. With a confident smile, he types in the date, knowing that it’s his own password as well. But when the message ‘Incorrect Pin’ flashes on the screen, his confidence wavers. He sits back, eyes wide with surprise.

What could it possibly be, then? Jaeyun runs through a list of possible passwords in his mind: your birthday, the name of your favourite pet, maybe even a significant place. Each attempt is met with the same frustrating result—‘Incorrect Pin.’

After a few more failed tries, he feels a pang of guilt but pushes it aside. This is for the greater good, he tells himself. This is to make you happy. He takes a deep breath and thinks more deeply about what the password could be. Something personal, something meaningful. He recalls moments you've shared, your inside jokes, and your shared passions. Then it hits him: your favourite band.

If there was another Jaeyun in your life, it was Lee Jaeyun from TO1. He’s not a jealous person but for that man, he is the most green-nosed, spiteful gremlin. Day after day he has had to hear about him despite the short answers and disinterest he shows, it doesn’t deter you in the slightest. It doesn’t help they have the same name either.

Pulling out his phone, he searches for the leader’s date of birth, already resigned to the idea that this will work and that he will have to somehow get you to change it before he becomes the human embodiment of envy. Typing in ‘160800’, the computer finally unlocks with ease. His face falls as the screen reveals your desktop, confirming his suspicion. Maybe to save himself the tiny heartache, he should have just searched for all of this on his own account; that’s what he gets for snooping, he supposes.

Jaeyun takes a moment to compose himself, shaking off the petty jealousy that flares up. He reminds himself why he’s doing this: to better understand your desires and make you happy. With a sigh, he begins navigating through your files, searching for anything that might give him insight into your fantasies.

The wallpaper is a picture of you and him on your third date to the petting farm. You both were covered up to the heavens, puffer jackets, scarves, and gloves to match since it was a bitingly cold winter. Jaeyun had insisted you go to the Christmas markets since it was one of the most romantic things to do; taking pictures under the lights and riding the swings, all while sharing kisses and nuzzling his nose with yours in an attempt to stay warm in the night.

But you had other plans. You wanted to see the cows and pigs instead, petting them and feeding them with the guidance of the farmer. It was one of the best dates of your life, Jaeyun had never seen you on such a high and he has still to replicate the elation on your face from the picture. Despite both of you getting covered in mud and earning a cold from the trip - that just meant cuddles in bed the next few days which then resulted in the first ‘I love you’ being shared - he is so glad you talked him into it.

His heart pounds at the memory, a fond smile growing on his face. There is no better joy to him than seeing you happy. And that brings him back to his original task.

Clicking on the browser, Jaeyun goes to your bookmarks first, scouring for anything that could seem on the darker side. However, it’s filled with movie links and furniture you’re considering buying when you redecorate the living room.

He then recalls something you said on the phone about BookTok and frantically searches for the app on the computer. Once he sees the familiar logo, he clicks on it quickly and heads straight for your favourites. Luckily for him, you are a folder freak and categorise everything, so it’s easy to scroll past the TO1 edits, cooking recipes, and things Jaeyun would like folders to find the coveted book rec folder.

He clicks on the first one and grabs his phone, ready to make a list of every kink that is hidden within the reviews. Two hours and fourteen minutes later, he finds his mind completely immersed in your fantasy world filled with CEOs, bikers, vampires, guns, knives, BDSM, corruption, cockwarming, and many, many, other things. Each paragraph and trigger warning becomes more outlandish than the last, and he realises he may have bitten off more than he can chew.

Jaeyun is thankful there isn’t anything that seems too brutal in there, but there are definitely some things he just point-blank refuses to take part in. Personally, he can’t imagine you are into some of the more extreme aspects either, but he understands that some elements come hand-in-hand with books like these. A few ideas are swirling in his head, however. There are things he doesn’t know if he can do, but for you, he will try his best.

As Jaeyun jots down notes, he starts with the milder kinks and gradually works his way up to the more intense ones: dominance and submission, rough play, role-playing, and bondage. These are things he feels he can explore with you, drawing inspiration from the confident and assertive male leads he's encountered in your favourite books. He imagines scenarios where he takes control, ties you up, and whispers dirty things in your ear—thankful to those characters for providing him with some content to work with. His pulse quickens at the thought, a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through him.

Yet, there is one recurring theme that stands out among all your fantasies:

Knives. 

It’s something you verbally pointed out in the phone call and is flagged as a potential trigger in almost all of the books you've favourited. The mere thought of it makes Jaeyun’s cheeks flush and sends a chill down his body. The idea of causing you harm, even in a controlled and consensual manner, is unsettling to him.

But Jaeyun is committed to understanding and fulfilling your desires. He knows this is about pleasing you and embracing your fantasies to keep his role as your perfect partner. There must be safe ways to explore this particular kink, ways that satisfy your cravings without risking harm. 

So, with determination, Jaeyun rolls up his sleeves and cracks his neck from side to side, preparing himself for a deep dive into your kink. Tonight, he will make sure you never have to go back to those books again.

_____

Walking through the door, you see the lights entirely out, causing a bit of alarm to ring inside your chest. Jaeyun is always home by now on his days off, so it’s strange that the house is in darkness.

“Baby? Are you home?” you whisper-shout, just on the off chance that he has decided to take a nap and it’s run through to 8pm. He has been working hard the past few days, so exhaustion is granted, but it’s just not like him to at least wait up for you.

You take off your shoes and place your bag next to the door, waiting for a response that never comes. Arching a brow, you look around, seeing that the house is in peak condition, just the way you left it this morning. Jaeyun is notorious for leaving a pint glass on the table and a plate that held his lunch on the coffee table, yet, nothing.

Gingerly, you make your way up the stairs, the balls of your feet never hitting the surface as you tiptoe slowly. You can’t understand why your mind went straight to a man murdering your lover while you were away, yet, your brain has conjured up this picture in your mind. The thought makes your heart pound and your throat go dry; if there was one person you couldn’t live without, it was Jaeyun.

“Baby, please answer me?” you say a bit louder at the top of the stairs, hoping he’ll respond and dispel any worries that are currently stabbing in your heart.

There is a soft flicker coming from your bedroom, a golden hue seeping through the glass pane at the top. It doesn’t smell like a fire, and you don’t own a lamp like that, so your curiosity is piqued. Your favourite scent of vanilla and amberwood engulfs the hall, causing you to drift rather than charge to your bedroom. The familiar fragrance calms your nerves, making you feel like you’re being welcomed home in the most intimate way.

Reaching for the door, you timidly open it, your hand trembling slightly. As the door creaks open, the soft glow of candlelight bathes the room in a warm, intimate atmosphere. The bed is adorned with fresh, crisp linens, and there are petals of your favourite pink and yellow tulips scattered over the floor. You’ve never been one for roses, and Jaeyun knows this, opting to get you only the best. The sight of the room, meticulously prepared, tugs at your heartstrings, filling you with a blend of love and anticipation.

You step further into the room, careful not to disrupt the scene before you. The effort Jaeyun has put into this is clearly extensive, and you would hate to mess with it before he has the chance to show it off to you. That does beg the question, though: where is he?

Just as you mentally ponder his whereabouts, you feel a pair of hands grip your shoulders, massaging you slowly. The sensation is different, though; it’s not Jaeyun’s normal soft touch. His fingers feel chunkier and are clearly covered by something. A shiver runs down your spine as the mystery deepens.

“I thought you were never coming home, baby,” he whispers into your ear, his lips softly grazing your lobe as he speaks. The sensation of his proximity and the lower octave of his tone instantly travels down to your core. There’s an edge to his voice that you’ve never heard before, making your pulse quicken with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

You twist your head to look at him, but the darkness of the room prevents you from fully seeing his beautiful, strong features, however, that big nose and blonde hair are still prominent enough to make you weak. What you do notice in addition, though, are the thick, black leather gloves that hold you in place. The sight of them makes your heart race; they add an unexpected, thrilling element to the scene.

In confusion, you reach up to touch them, the feeling of them oddly cool despite the heat invading both the room and your body. “Jaeyun, it’s like 16 degrees outside, why are you—”

“Shh, I’m doing something special for you. Just relax, Princess.” The use of “Princess” sends a jolt through you. It’s a term of endearment reserved for special occasions: birthdays, anniversaries, and holidays. It must mean you are either forgetting a crucial moment in your relationship or he’s up to something. Boyfriends don’t do “something special” without a reason.

Turning your body to face him, you eye him with intense scepticism. “What did you do wrong?”

He laughs, but it’s not his usual heart-warming giggle. It’s mocking, as if you have the nerve to ask the question. “Me? I think it was you who did something wrong, baby"

Okay, now you really are confused. There is nothing you have done wrong, and you know it. Plus, if you did, Jaeyun would whine about it to you right after and make you give at least three kisses as an apology. Now that you look at him, you take in his appearance. His beautiful blonde hair styled to fall just slightly over his usual puppy eyes, the water ducts of his eyelids are painted with a subtle liner, and there is a red tint to his lips, only making them more enticing. The cute boyfriend you love so dearly is nowhere to be seen, instead replaced by a smug-looking man with eyes glaring into yours.

What you don’t know is that Jaeyun’s heart is pounding in his chest, and the fire in his eyes is determined to see this plan through. He needs everything to go well, and that means staying in character and giving you the fucking you deserve, the one you crave so bad.

“What did I do, Jaeyun?” you ask a bit breathlessly, a frown forming on your face at the prospect of hurting your man. The idea of disappointing him gnaws at your heart, yet the unfamiliar intensity in his eyes sends a thrill through you.

It almost cracks Jaeyun’s well-curated persona that he spent all afternoon figuring out, from the white shirt with the collar open and the sleeves rolled up, the gloves on his hands, to the daring glint in his eye. He’s determined to give you everything your heart desires tonight. He softens his gaze, just a touch, and his hand gently runs over your cheek, the once thoughtful and endearing gesture now turned slightly sinister with the leather of the glove, the cracks bumping over your blushed skin.

“You did something bad, Princess, something I’m going to have to punish you for,” he replies to your question, never actually answering it but rather giving you more queries. His voice is firm, leaving no room for argument, and it makes your heart pound in your chest. You’re torn between trepidation and arousal, the lines between them blurring as you stand before him.

He takes his eyes off of you, giving up the harsh stare, and focuses on your work shirt. “Take it off,” he instructs demandingly, his eyebrows arching expectantly. His tone leaves no room for hesitation, and your hands move almost automatically.

Almost under a spell, you nod, fumbling with the top button. Your mind is racing with trepidation and nervousness as you try to process this new side of your boyfriend. You aren’t complaining; he looks fucking hot, and the way he’s directing you is making your legs shake in the best possible way. The atmosphere in the room is charged with raw, electric energy, every second stretching out with heightened anticipation.

He watches the first few buttons pop open, but you’re going far too slow for him, causing him to take action. He grabs the flimsy collar of your pink shirt, ripping it open with tenacity. Buttons fly across the room and clatter against the surfaces of the floor and the chest of drawers, your shocked gasp echoing the sound.

A smirk marks his face as he sees the pretty white bra holding your perfect tits up. He loves your body more than anything, and honestly, he isn’t thrilled about marking it up tonight. However, the more he thinks about it, something is enticing about the marks being made by him. His desire to please you is interwoven with a burgeoning sense of ownership and dominance, the sight of you laid bare before him stirring something deep within, the persona of being dominant now enveloping his whole demeanour.

“Are you wearing the matching panties?” he asks carefully, knowing full well you never leave the house in an odd set, scared of the bad luck it could bring. 

Nodding, you already know what he is asking and unzip your black, matt skirt, letting it fall to the floor as you stand in nothing but the lingerie set you bought spontaneously, and by fuck are you glad you wore it today. It was not intentional, your expectations of coming home were not to this but rather a quiet night in the way you usually do, but something compelled you to the sexier underwear today. Perhaps in the back of your mind, you knew something special was going to happen. 

Jaeyun takes you in, staring blatantly at your body and thinks of all the ways he is ready to take you tonight. He wants this to be the best fuck you’ve ever had and you are making it so easy for him to do so.

“Fuck, you are so beautiful, Princess,” he compliments, looking at you with hungry eyes. The gesture should make you feel insecure but it only fuels your need to have him closer. Blushing you look down, which he quickly rectifies, grasping at your jaw tight enough for you to feel commanded but not hurt, and brings his face closer to yours. “Get on the bed, on your knees and wait until I tell you to move.”

If your pussy could cry, it would. Your typical love-making boyfriend is now showing his more dominant side, and it’s driving you wild. You move to the bed, your legs feeling like jelly, and position yourself on your knees as instructed. The air is thick with anticipation, your body aching for his touch.

Jaeyun watches you, his eyes dark with desire. He takes a moment to appreciate the sight before him: you, waiting obediently, dressed in nothing but that perfect lingerie set. His heart pounds in his chest, a mix of love and primal need fueling his actions. He wants to make you feel things you’ve never felt before, to push the boundaries of pleasure and trust between you.

Walking towards you, he climbs onto the bed, positioning himself behind you. His gloved hands run down your back, the cool leather a stark contrast to your heated skin. “You look so fucking perfect like this,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion and desire. The sensation of his gloved hands on your bare skin sends waves of pleasure through you, making you arch your back slightly, seeking more of him.

He reaches around to cup your breasts, squeezing them gently through the lace of your bra. The pressure is just right, enough to make you gasp and press back against him. “Do you like that, Princess?” he asks, his lips brushing against your ear.

“Yes,” you breathe out, the word escaping you in a rush of need.

“Good,” he replies, his hands moving to unclasp your bra. “I want to hear you tonight. I want to know exactly how much you’re enjoying this. And if I need to stop, say the word and I will.”

Before you can fully comprehend his words, Jaeyun reaches to the side of the bed, retrieving something. The air is thick with anticipation, the suspense almost tangible. The idea that your typically gentle boyfriend has transformed into someone so dominant is exhilarating. Your heart races as you wait for his next move, the atmosphere charged with excitement.

Suddenly, your hands are bound together with a silky pink ribbon. The fabric is soft against your skin, a stark contrast to the intense emotions bubbling inside you. A shiver of need runs down your spine, your breath hitching as Jaeyun tightens the ribbon around your wrists. This gentle restraint heightens your vulnerability, making you feel even more exposed and ready for whatever Jaeyun has planned.

He ties the ribbon into a delicate bow, his fingers moving with confident precision. The care he takes with each loop and knot sends a wave of warmth through you, reminding you of the love and trust that form the foundation of this intense experience, one you didn’t ask him for yet somehow he knew you wanted The bow rests softly against your skin, a symbol of the control you've willingly surrendered to him.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, his voice filled with admiration and desire. Leaning in, his lips brush against your ear as he whispers, "You’re perfect like this, Princess."

His words send a rush of heat through you, particularly to your core, your body responding to the deep, commanding tone. Every touch, every whisper, ignites a fire within you, your anticipation almost unbearable. The sensation of being bound and at his mercy only heightens your arousal. This is what you have been craving and he is feeding you full.

Jaeyun's gloved hands move slowly over your body, exploring every inch of your exposed skin. The cool leather contrasts with your warmth, sending shivers of pleasure through you. He traces the curve of your neck, the swell of your breasts, and the dip of your waist, his touch both gentle and firm. Each caress leaves a trail of tingling sensation, your body hypersensitive to his every movement.

Kneeling behind you, his chest pressed against your back, he whispers, "You trust me, don’t you?"

"Always" you breathe out, your voice a mix of need and certainty. You trust him completely, ready to let him guide you through this new and exhilarating experience. Although you have always dreamed of this, you still don’t really know what to expect but if Jaeyun is on the other side of it, you feel more than safe.

His hands sliding down your arms to rest on your bound wrists. He holds them gently, the ribbon a reminder of your submission. "I’m going to make you feel so good, Princess."

His words are filled with love and adoration despite the commanding edge in his tone and grip. While he is playing the role of a dominant, the tenderness and affection he has for you remain palpable. He is still your loving boyfriend, and he will ensure you feel cherished and safe throughout this experience.

With a careful, guiding touch, he lays you down on your back, your bound hands resting against your stomach. He moves your legs so you're completely flat and comfortable against the mattress. The vulnerability of your position heightens your awareness of every sensation, yet you surrender yourself to him with ease, trusting him completely.

Jaeyun's smile is a mixture of pride and desire as he observes your obedience. He climbs over you, reaching for one of the candles on the bedside table. The soft glow of the flame illuminates his face, casting shadows that dance across his features, making him look even more enticing.

Sitting himself firmly over your core, he holds the candle above you, the wax slowly beginning to melt. The anticipation sends shivers through your body, the heat from the candle contrasting with the coolness of the room. This was something you always wished to try, granted, it was on him rather than you but you welcomed the experience nonetheless.

"Are you ready, Princess?" he asks, his voice a husky whisper filled with promise.

You nod, your breath hitching in your throat. "Yes," you manage to whisper, your voice trembling with a mixture of fear and excitement.

His eyes lock onto yours, ensuring you are fully present in this moment. "Tell me if it’s too much," he instructs, his tone softening for a moment. He wants to be rough with you but also let you know that you are in control to stop and go as you please.

"I will," you promise, trusting him implicitly.

With that, he tilts the candle, allowing a drop of hot wax to fall onto your bare skin, just above your breast. The sensation is sharp and intense, a sudden burst of heat that quickly cools, leaving a tingling trail of pleasure in its wake. You gasp, your body arching slightly at the unexpected sensation. Instinctively, your arms move to reach for him, but bound by the ribbon, all you can do is stretch them above your head, your fists clenching. There is nothing you can do because if you interfere, he will simply stop, and that is the last thing you want.

So, you bear the mingling pain and pleasure, wiggling under him with lust as your arousal soaks the freshly made bed. Each drop of wax is accompanied by the heat of the flame, adding to the wonder you are feeling. The mixture of sensations – the heat of the wax, the coolness of the air, the firmness of the mattress beneath you, and the weight of Jaeyun’s body – creates a symphony of pleasure that envelops you completely. Your breaths come in short, shallow gasps, your mind consumed by the intense, intoxicating experience.

Your legs kick involuntarily as he moves the candle lower, dripping the hot wax into your navel. The feeling is overwhelming over the sensitive area, making your whole body yelp and your hips buck up into him. Each new drop intensifies your arousal, your body responding eagerly to the mix of pleasure and slight pain.

Jaeyun's eyes darken with satisfaction at your reactions, his dominant persona growing stronger. The wax paints your body like paint on a fresh canvas, telling a story of your shared passion and want. The sight is so beautiful he can’t believe he created such a masterpiece. 

Satisfied with his work, he sets the candle aside and runs his gloved hands over your body, tracing the cooling trails of wax with a gentle touch. The contrasting sensations of the smooth leather against your heated skin make you shiver, your body hypersensitive to his every touch.

"You're doing so well, Princess," he praises, his voice a low, soothing rumble that sends waves of pleasure through you. 

His hands move lower, parting your thighs as he positions himself between them, his body sleeking to lie half on and half off the bed. The anticipation is almost unbearable, your body aching for his touch, for his tongue. He leans down, his breath hot against your core, and you can feel your heart pounding in your chest. 

Nothing makes you happier than when Jaeyun is between your legs and that skilful tongue of his is making you cum over and over again. With your hands tied to grant you just enough freedom, you reach down into his hair and grasp it, guiding him closer to where you need it most.

“Jaeyun, please, I need you so bad,” you whimper, the tone of your voice desperate and needy much to his satisfaction. 

He looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire. "God, I love it when you beg," he murmurs, his lips curling into a knowing grin. If there is one thing he always makes you do in the bedroom, it’s begging, and fuck does he eat it up every single time.

Without an ounce of hesitation, his mouth descends upon you, his tongue circling your clit with fervour, his lips creating a comforting cocoon around his actions. The grip on his blonde hair is harsher than before, your fingers threading through with ease as you push him further into your heat, his nose subsequently grazing just above where he is focusing. The sensation sends shivers down your spine, each flick of his tongue sending pulses of pleasure through your body.

His still-gloved hands grip your thighs and push them apart, holding you wide open for him as he sucks and licks with velocity. His eagerness to please you is seeping through, the boyfriend that you know and love with a need to make sure you’re receiving the most intense experience of your life. The leather of his gloves against your skin adds an unexpected thrill, a reminder of the control he holds and the lengths he is willing to go to make you feel incredible.

Sucking on your bud, his eyes glance up at you with a mischievous glint, watching your every reaction. The connection between you deepens, a silent communication passing between you, the love he has for you evident in the sparkle you see flash before you. Your breath hitches, and your back arches off the bed as his tongue works its magic, each movement precise and deliberate; your body is his instrument, and he is playing it masterfully, drawing out notes of ecstasy that resonate in your very core. 

Your moans grow louder, more desperate, filling the room with the sounds of your pleasure. Jaeyun's grip on your thighs tightens, his determination evident in the way he devours you. He knows exactly how to push you to the edge, his tongue and lips working in perfect harmony to bring you to the brink of orgasm.

"Please, Jaeyun," you gasp, your voice barely a whisper, laced with need.

His response is a deep, satisfied hum against your clit, the vibrations adding another layer to your mounting pleasure. The combination of his skilled mouth and the teasing flicks of his tongue drive you wild, your body trembling with the intensity of your arousal. 

Just when you think you can't take it anymore, he increases his pace, his tongue moving faster, his suction stronger. The world fades away, leaving only the overwhelming sensation of his mouth on you, the heat pooling in your belly, ready to explode.

With a final, powerful suck, he sends you over the edge. Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing with pleasure, your moans turning into cries of rapture. He doesn't stop, prolonging your climax, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until you're left breathless and spent.

Jaeyun laps up all of your juices like a dog craving water in the summer sun,  his eyes closed to enhance his senses as he cleans you up. He loves nothing more than eating you out, seeing it as an honour rather than a chore. The taste and smell of you drive him wild. He continues to slurp your essence, even though you’re squirming each time the tip of his tongue drags along your clit.

“Jaeyun, it’s too much,” you gasp as he nibbles around your sensitive area, each touch sending shivers through your body.

Removing his face from your cunt, he licks the wetness from his lips with a sadistic smirk, his eyes predatory and ready to ravage you at any moment. The intense gaze makes you shudder with longing, the need for his cock so obvious that you’re moving down with your legs, your pussy chasing his still-clothed erection.

But Jaeyun has other plans, much more sinister plans.

“Don’t be so needy, Princess,” he growls, slapping your pussy once and snapping his fingers. “Move up.” The command in his voice leaves you no room for error or hesitation. You move up, the restraint on your wrists making it a little more difficult than anticipated.

As you lay your head on the soft pillow that carries his scent, Jaeyun smiles in satisfaction, reaching under the bed to find something. If it’s anything like the silk ribbon that is still bounding your wrists, you’re excitedly awaiting the reveal. The prolepsis is almost too much to bear, your heart pounding in your chest as you watch him find exactly what he is looking for.

When his hand re-emerges, it holds a knife: the handle thick and enticing, the blade sharp and dangerous . Your eyes widen in a mix of fear and excitement, your breath catching in your throat. This is all you’ve ever wanted, a fantasy you’ve kept hidden, and now it’s coming to life. How did he know?

The sight of the silver glinting in the candlelight sends a thrill through you, your body trembling with a potent blend of arousal and trepidation. If there was one thing you never expected Jaeyun to do, it was this. Often, he would apologise during sex if he pressed into you too hard, so you can’t understand what the sudden change is about.

Tying you up, slapping your pussy, all of that you could understand, none causing enough damage to scar you, yet the knife he wields is an instrument meant to deface you in some way, to hurt you which is exactly the opposite of anything Jaeyun has ever wished to do upon you.

Rolling the knife between his covered fingers as though it is a drumstick, he looks at you menacingly. “Does this shit turn you on? A knife?” he scoffs at the question he doesn’t expect an answer for. “It can do so much damage yet you finger yourself over the thought of it, don’t you?”

All the novels you’ve read suddenly come rushing back but you swore you never spoke to him about this before. Knives aren’t exactly a common bedroom item so for him to know this tiny detail about your fantasy is so…

…The phone call. He did hear it.  

Your heartbeat quickens with a mixture of love and anxiety. Jaeyun is doing all of this for you because of what you said, going to extraordinary lengths to fulfil your desires. Most wouldn’t care to cater to your wants, yet here he is, stepping out of his comfort zone just to please you. The realisation floods through you, bringing a wave of gratitude and affection.

Jaeyun notices the shift in your expression immediately, smiling knowingly. “Oh, yeah, I know all about your twisted fantasies,” he smirks, pointing the knife to himself. At first, panic grips you, fearing what he might do, but to your relief, he catches the blade on his shirt and drags it down with force, ripping the material effortlessly, and leaving his torso exposed. “And I’m going to make sure every single one of them comes true.”

Taking in the sight of his abs, you whimper, longing to touch them, yet you resist, keeping your hands firmly above your head in obedience. Jaeyun’s body causes butterflies to erupt in your tummy, the movement stirring your arousal even more.

He brings the knife to your chest, pressing ever so lightly. He spent considerable time practising the pressure of the blade on various objects, ensuring he wouldn’t hurt you in any way. His meticulous preparation is evident as he caters to your needs without going too far.

Your lungs tighten as you feel the cold steel between your breasts, the sharp tip piercing just enough to feel it but not cutting you. The sensation is electrifying, a blend of fear and excitement that heightens every nerve in your body. Your breaths come in shallow gasps, your chest rising and falling rapidly under his touch.

“Just breathe, Princess,” Jaeyun murmurs soothingly, his voice a gentle counterpoint to the sharpness of the knife. His eyes never leave yours, maintaining a connection that grounds you even in the intensity of the moment. The trust between you is palpable, a silent understanding that he will never truly harm you.

He moves the blade with precision, tracing patterns over your skin, each touch sending shivers down your spine. The cool metal contrasts with the heat of your body, creating a tantalising mix of sensations that leaves you breathless. Your nipples harden, the chill of the knife adding to your arousal.

Jaeyun’s eyes darken with desire as he watches your reactions, his own arousal evident in the bulge pressing against his trousers. The power he wields, the control he has over your pleasure, fuels his own need despite his own worries, making him more determined to give you everything you desire.

The knife slides down to your stomach, pressing lightly against your navel. The sensation is both thrilling and terrifying, your body trembling under his ministrations. You can feel every inch of the blade’s journey, the delicate pressure a reminder of his control and your submission. The cold steel creates a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your body, each touch sending shivers down your spine.

“Is this what you wanted, Princess?” he asks, his voice a seductive whisper. The intensity in his eyes makes your core tighten, your need for him overwhelming. The power dynamic between you amplifies your arousal, each moment of vulnerability intensifying the bond you share.

“Fuck, yes,” you breathe out, swallowing air as your mouth dries up in complete lust for the man. The anticipation and desire build within you, each second stretched taut with expectation.

Jaeyun pouts mockingly, the corners of his lips curling into a teasing smile. The blade digs a tiny bit deeper, just enough to nick your skin but not draw blood. The sharp sting elicits a gasp from your lips, a mix of pain and pleasure that sends waves of heat through your body. The sensation is electrifying, your senses heightened by the thrill of the knife's edge and the knowledge of Jaeyun’s precise control.

His eyes never leave yours, the connection between you unbreakable. The trust and love you share make this moment possible, allowing you to surrender completely to his whims. His free hand moves to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lips tenderly, a stark contrast to the harshness of the blade against your skin. The leather of his glove traces your lip and you suck on it gently, sparking a twitch in his cock.

“You’re so beautiful when you’re like this,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. “So perfect.”

His words, filled with adoration and possessiveness, send another wave of arousal through you. Every touch, every word, is a testament to his dedication to you, his willingness to explore your deepest fantasies.

His lips lean into yours, the edge of the blade now scarily close to your tender area. You quiver, scared yet enthralled at the idea that one move could change the pace of this night. His plump lips peck yours, leaving you longing for more, but he is already pulling away, sitting back up and looking thoughtfully at the knife in his hand.

“It’s strange that you crave this. I’m still trying to understand what it is about it that you love so much,” he questions, the shine of the steel hitting the candlelight once more. “Is it really better than my cock?”

You shake your head frantically, never wishing to set doubts into his head about his ability to please you. That cock has done more for you in the two years you have been together than anyone has ever done in your life. The planets that rocket has taken you to is more than you could ever wish for, no kink could ever top it.

Swiftly, he flicks the knife in his hand, the blade digging into his glove. To be fair, the whole reason he put on the gloves was exactly for this reason. Initially, he was going to spread you open and fuck you with it handle first just like in the books he skimmed on TikTok, but as he kneels between your thighs, power in his hands, he realises this is his opportunity to show you just how little you need this to satisfy you.

Licking his lips, he drags the handle down your slit, causing you to mewl out in want. At this point, you’ll take anything, all the teasing from him and greed to be fulfilled inside your body is too much to ignore. You need to be stuffed by something and you need it now.

The curve of the haft sits teasingly at your entrance, begging to be inside you, or rather, you’re begging it to be inside you. Your hips lift instinctively, seeking the pressure and the pleasure that promises to follow. Your breaths come in short, desperate gasps, your eyes locked onto his, silently pleading for release.

Jaeyun’s eyes burn with an intensity that matches your own. “You want this, don’t you?” he murmurs, his voice low and rough. The way he looks at you, with a mixture of dominance and affection, sends shivers down your spine.

“Yes,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “Please, Jaeyun, I need it.”

His smirk widens at your admission. “Too bad, Princess,” he suddenly chucks the knife away, the metal clattering against the floor as it slides out of reach. Your eyes widen in shock and confusion, a whimper escaping your lips at the unexpected turn of events.

“But-” you begin, your voice cracking with desperation. Jaeyun silences you with a finger pressed to your lips, his expression softening just a fraction as he leans in close.

“Trust me,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. “I know what you need more than you do.”

With that, he shifts his position, his body pressing you down into the mattress with a delicious weight. He whips off his gloves and his bare hands roam your body, fingers tracing over your sensitive skin, sending sparks of pleasure wherever they touch. The sensation of his skin against your flesh is intoxicating and desperately what you need, heightening your awareness of every movement.

Jaeyun’s mouth moves down, his lips enveloping your breast, taking a nipple between his teeth and tugging lightly. You gasp, the sharp pleasure shooting straight to your core, your hips lifting instinctively to seek more contact.

“Jaeyun,” you moan, your voice a desperate plea. In response, he lavishes attention on your other breast, his tongue flicking over the hardened peak, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

“I love it when you say my name like that,” he growls against your skin, his hands moving to grip your hips with a possessive intensity, just harsh enough to bruise you tomorrow. “Give me your wrists.”

Obliging, you offer your tied hands, presenting them as though they are a gift from you to him. The look in his eyes is fierce and tender all at once. He takes one of the ends of the bow, biting it gently before pulling, undoing his knot from earlier. The scene before you is so sensual that a tear rolls down your cheek, falling onto the bed beneath you.

The ribbon falls between you, resting on your body adorned with drops of wax. Jaeyun leaves it there, loving the way it decorates your skin. His eyes trace the path of the ribbon, admiring the contrast against your flesh.

He leans down, kissing the tear-streaked path on your cheek. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers, his voice a mix of awe and adoration. “And you’re mine.”

His words send a shiver through you, the possessiveness in his tone amplifying your desire. His hands slide down your sides, fingers tracing the curves of your body with reverence. Every touch and every movement is deliberate, designed to heighten your pleasure.

Jaeyun’s lips follow the path of his hands, trailing kisses down your stomach, pausing to nuzzle the delicate skin just above your navel. His breath is warm against your skin, the sensation sending sparks of anticipation through you.

“Tell me what you want, Princess,” he murmurs, his voice a seductive growl. “I want to hear you say it.”

“I want you,” you breathe out, your voice trembling with need. “I need you inside me, Jaeyun.”

He smiles, already on his way to unbutton his slacks and take them off, trying his best to do it gracefully while still kneeling on the bed. Once his cock is free, his right hand grasps it firmly, stroking it with laziness. 

The tip of his cock looks so delectable, the red, angry tip is begging to be satisfied, meaning he is enjoying this just as much as you are. Holding you steady, he positions himself between your thighs. The anticipation is almost unbearable, your body aching for his touch, for the feeling of him filling you completely.

“Please,” you beg, your voice breathless with need. “I need you, Jaeyun.”

“More than a knife?”

“Fuck the knife, I only want you, baby. Forever,” you whimper out, your pussy instinctively bucking up to find his cock, like two magnets destined for one another, just like your hearts. Never in your dreams did you think you could find a man like him, someone so easily willing to love you and everything you are, even the desires you hold deep in your heart.

His eyes gleam the same way they do when you tell him you love him or leave him to go to work. It’s adoration and acceptance that runs constantly throughout his blood and bones. The connection between you is palpable, a silent agreement that no matter where your fantasies take you, the love and trust you share will always bring you back to each other.

With a slow, deliberate movement, Jaeyun eases into you, the feeling of him stretching and filling you is pure bliss. You both let out a collective sigh, the initial penetration electrifying every nerve in your body. The sensation of him inside you, coupled with the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress, is overwhelming in the best possible way.

“God, you feel so good,” he groans, his voice thick with gratification. He pauses for a moment, allowing you both to savour the connection before he begins to move.

His thrusts start slow, each one measured and deep, designed to draw out the pleasure and build the anticipation. Your hands grip his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you arch your back, meeting each of his movements with equal fervour.

The room fills with the symphony of your passion, the rhythmic slap of skin against skin, the creak of the bed, and your shared moans of ecstasy. Every thrust sends waves of pleasure crashing through you, your senses heightened, your body responding to his every touch.

“Jaeyun,” you gasp, your voice a breathless plea. “Harder.”

His eyes flash with a primal intensity, and he complies, increasing the force and speed of his thrusts. The bed shakes beneath you, the headboard tapping rhythmically against the wall as he drives into you with a fierce, unrelenting pace.

You grip the sheets tightly as the tip of his cock bruises your cervix, his hips moving with pure desire. This is the hardest he’s fucked you in his life, the grip on your waist and the powerful thrusts enough to leave marks. His lips devour yours in a passionate kiss, adding to the perfect blend of love and rawness you’ve been craving.

Tears well up in your eyes as he takes you to greater heights than anyone has before. You've never needed elaborate kinks to feel satisfied; you just needed Jaeyun. Yet, as he dominates you now, you realise how intoxicating his control can be. Maybe he could adopt this dominant persona more often because he is undeniably skilled at it.

Every movement, every touch, and every word from him ignites a fire within you, building towards an explosive climax. The room echoes with your shared moans, the bed creaking in protest as he thrusts into you relentlessly. Each sensation, from the sting of his bites to the deep ache of his penetration, pushes you closer to the edge of euphoria.

As your bodies meld together in passion and rhythm, you feel a deep connection that transcends mere physicality. It’s a dance of trust and desire, a symphony of pleasure orchestrated by the man who knows you intimately. In this moment, wrapped in his arms and lost in the ecstasy of his love, you realise that Jaeyun is not just fulfilling your fantasies - he’s surpassing them, guiding you to realms of bliss you never dared to imagine.

“I’m close, Princess,” he mutters, his head burying deep into your neck as his hips falter slightly.

You nod eagerly, your nails digging into his back to convey your urgency, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak. His cock feels so snug inside you that when you tighten involuntarily at his words, he’s drawn deeper into your depths, unable to resist your passionate grip as you cascade violently into orgasm.

“Fuck, Jaeyun!” you scream, your mouth agape and eyes squeezed shut, surrendering to the overwhelming wave of pleasure that engulfs every one of your senses. The intensity of your release leaves you trembling, your body quaking with the aftershocks of ecstasy as he continues to drive into you, prolonging your shared ecstasy.

In the midst of your euphoria, you feel Jaeyun’s own climax building, his movements becoming more urgent and erratic. His moans mingle with yours in a symphony of shared pleasure, the culmination of desire and connection that binds you together in this intimate moment.

As he finds release within you, his body stiffens with the force of his orgasm, his breaths ragged against your skin. He drawls out a long and desperate ‘fuck’ as he released his seed inside of you, painting your walls a pretty shade of white, the warmth of his cum somehow a soothing balm over to your shaking rapture.

Both of your hearts are racing as you come down, each of you just lost in sloppy kisses and hands roaming over one another. This was easily the most intense orgasm you have ever had thanks to the build-up that Jaeyun has provided and he feels the exact same way.

In the quiet aftermath, as you lie entwined and breathless, you revel in the depth of your connection with Jaeyun. Each gasp and whispered declaration of love reaffirms the bond you share, a bond forged through trust, intimacy, and the unrivalled pleasure of loving each other completely.

You look at him, his eyes still dazed but present. “I’m sorry you heard that phone call. I promise, I love you so much and you are enough for me, I don’t need anything more than I just need you.” You hope the words come across as sincere and heartfelt because you mean every syllable of it.

aeyun’s expression softens as he reaches out to cup your cheek, his touch warm and reassuring. “I know, Princess,” he murmurs, his voice tender. “I love you too, more than anything. Nothing can shake what we have. I just wanted to make sure you knew that I can do more if you just ask.”

His words sink deep into your heart, reminding you of his unwavering commitment and willingness to fulfil your desires. You feel a pang of regret for not confiding in him sooner, for letting fear hold you back from sharing your deepest fantasies with the man who loves you unconditionally.

“That’s the thing,” you say softly, your fingers lightly tracing the contours of his face. “I was afraid. Afraid that if I told you, it might change things between us. I love you so much, Jaeyun, and the thought of losing you scared me more than anything.”

Jaeyun’s gaze holds yours with such tenderness that it melts away your remaining doubts. “You’ll never lose me, Princess,” he reassures, his thumb brushing over your lips. “I want us to explore everything together, to share in each other’s desires and pleasures. Your happiness means everything to me.”

His sincerity washes over you like a soothing wave, filling you with a sense of relief and newfound courage. You realise now that true intimacy lies not only in physical connection but also in emotional honesty and vulnerability.

“I promise to communicate better,” you vow, meeting his gaze with determination. “To trust in us, in our love, and to share everything with you, no matter how wild or unconventional.”

He laughs heartily, his pretty teeth coming into display as he shakes his head. “I’ll do whatever you want, baby. Just say the kink and I’m there.”

You nod and press your lips against his, your body instinctively laying upon his, your thighs now straddling his side as your tongue explores his mouth with fervour. You hope everyone in the world gets to experience the love and trust that you and Jaeyun have,

Drawing back, he looks at you a little seriously, causing you to sit up straight. “We do need to talk about your computer password being Lee Jaeyun’s birthday and not mine,” he says half jokingly, half serious

Narrowing your eyes, you look deep into his. “Now, how do you know what my computer pin is?”

Instead of giving you an answer, he pulls you in closer, enveloping your lips with his as he swirls his tongue gently with his, hoping to distract you from the question It should only take a few more orgasms to make sure you never remember the question, saving him the scolding he would get for checking your password.

Maybe he’ll gag you this time, just in case.

perm taglist: @immortalvee @sunpov @heeseungspookie @strawberrysavi @monstanctiny21 @diorsyun @heexzbae @pockettwinzz @yzzyhee @baekhyunstruly @zeeloveshee @haechonly @berryblog @emi-en @no-mannerism @jaehoonii @notevenheretbh1 @iikeustar @shawnyle @addictedtohobi @jiminie-08 @emberuby @nctislifue @lilyuwon @skzenhalove @heeshlove @idkdykilr @chocminteu @y4wnjunz @rikibun @ivesti @parksunghoonsgf @branchrkive @brownsugarbaybee @xxbluestrifexx

[p1umeria]

love speaks in silence

!! the cute things he does for you when he thinks you aren't looking !!

hai guys!!! this is my first time writing on here

character incl. - choso, gojo

wc - 3.5k

tags - fluff, comfort (possible hurt if you take it that way), no smut teehee, this is basically like amateur porn if amateur porn was amateur fanfic writing, sexual innuendos

warnings - potentially bad spelling, weird format because idk how to work this app, and talks of harassment, i honestly just wanted to yap, kind of ooc

☆ choso ☆

° this man is my everything he is so adorable. okay, anyway. he isn't the most socially adjusted person, so sometimes his mannerisms and things he does would be seen as odd by others.

° he would take photos of you like ALL the time. gojo told him once that taking a picture will make it last forever, and he wants you to be a forever in his life. to be a constant. so he's always taking pictures of you, sometimes during bad times.

° sometimes, his photos are a little raunchy, not on purpose, but he does not understand that taking a picture of you when you are half naked and changing is bad. poor little guy just thought you looked cute.

° he will glare and give the stankiest stank eye to anyone who tries to bother you. guy does not understand his own feelings and emotions enough to mask them, so he ends up showing whatever he's feeling on his face. if someone is bothering you, that man will not hesitate to shoo them off. kamo "if looks could kill" choso.

° sometimes, he will just come up right behind you and stand there for a moment then walk away. he wants to be in your vicinity but doesn't know how to start physical affection.

° let's say you're washing dishes or studying or just doing something. whatever. he will come up right behind you, he won't touch you or anything just stand there all brooding and tall. not make a noise, not alert you of his presence. he will just be near you, and that makes him happy. you being around him makes him feel so many new and indescribable emotions.

° he will stare at you adamantly. he just finds you so insanely absolutely precious and doesn't understand that sometimes it makes you feel uncomfortable. you guys basically will sit there having a staring contest, and his heart will be so so full. he loves you, and he loves looking at you, and he loves being near you.

° i wanted to say he draws you, but i honestly don't think he CAN draw. he might try and make little scribbled portraits of you, trying his hardest to capture the beauty that he's always admiring, but it just doesn't work on his fingers.

♡ gojo ♡

° honestly, all that needs to be said about him has been said. he's a goofy little guy and a hopeless romantic.

° he will try to bite you, unprovoked, just to get a little nibble. and he will always ask for a tiny little bite of you in the stupidest voice possible A.K.A his own voice.

° that man is an ASSSHOLEEE. well, not really, but i just wanted to say that.

° if you guys are out on a date, like to the mall or something, and he sees you consistently eyeing something or talking about it; he will go back the next day and buy it for you as a gift.

° the clothing trope has been switched with him. sometimes he will take your clothes, accessories, even makeup or skincare and he will try them on and take pictures and post them to his Instagram which has a total of 7 followers (you, his alt, shoko, nanami (forced), yuji, megumi (forced), nobara (forced).)

° he will put socks on you in the middle of the night (b99 ref). hear me out. it's really cold, like buttcheeks freezing cold. you are shivering in your sleep, and your little toesies are out, and they are DYING. he will get some socks and put them on you so your feet don't fall off like a block of ice.

° he will cut your veggies and your fruits. he will grate your cheese. any sort of cooking preparation will already be completed. not well. perchance. but your cheese will always be grated. there will always be chopped green onions, peeled garlic and oranges, skinned apples, potatoes, and kiwis.

[lostinforestbound]

Could I request headcanons for Cal, Rolan, and Zevlor using their tail accidentally/purposely to stop their non-tiefling gender neutral crush from leaving yet?

Oooh what a fun one!! I can definitely do my best!

Cal, Rolan, and Zevlor Accidentally/Purposely Stopping Their Crush From Leaving

Cal

I see Cal as someone who can be very nervous around their crush without meaning to, at least as soon as he realizes he has a crush on them in the first place.

When he doesn't realize, he's very casual! He always wants to chat with them, and even actively looks for them when he knows they may be around, like at the tiefling party. When the realization hits him, he clams up.

His palms start getting sweaty, he stumbles over his words when he's put on the spot, he starts blushing whenever they put a hand on him; it's almost unbearable.

He wishes he was much more confident so he could just say what he feels, get it over with, but he doesn't want to ruin what he and his crush already have. He would rather stay quiet than possibly lose them over it.

He naturally gravitates towards them, and one day in the Elfsong Tavern, he chats them up. It was a casual conversation, and he barely paid attention to it, distracted by their face.

Then suddenly, they have to get going. Immediately he startles at that with a little "wait!" as they go, and his tail wraps around their calf.

Unfortunately, that causes them to trip on their feet. Everything happens very quickly! He reaches to grab them, but then he trips on the edge of a table, and they both crash onto the floor of the tavern.

He's immediately apologizing, helping them up and stuttering over his words, completely embarrassed by the whole ordeal. Gods, what was wrong with him?! They must hate him now! They'll never want to see him again!

His crush would suddenly start laughing, and he's shocked. He's worried that they're laughing at him but they reassure that they only find the situation is funny. "If you wanted me to stay you could have just asked!"

That's the moment he finally gets the courage to ask them out. He's absolutely delighted when they say yes, and he promises to make his tail behave.

Rolan

This would have happened during a fight. We all know that Rolan is short-tempered and can be snappy with people when upset. A good example is the first conversation with him at Last Light Inn.

But consider: What if that fight escalated? What if he took in further in his drunken state? What if he really let loose everything he's ever felt about them?

It's not intentional, he has a crush on them for hells sake, yet he's making a complete ass out of himself.

I imagine his crush (it could be Tav or someone else) practically drags him outside by the arm or ear so other people don't have to witness it, especially if things start getting personal.

They know he's extremely upset by what happened to his siblings, so at the time, they let him be angry at them. A silent encouragement to let it all out so he doesn't drag anyone else into this.

Honestly, it may bring the both of them near to tears. Rolan tends to say exactly what he feels in the moment, and sometimes it's really hurtful.

He finally calms, and he grimaces after realizing what he said to them. They turn to leave, and without thinking, his tail wraps around their ankle, as if having a mind of its own. Or maybe he truly wants them to stick around.

When they look back at him in confusion, he retracts his tail, mumbling something incomprehensible and stalks off along the shore. He doesn't look back, but gods, he feels guilty for yelling at them like back.

He definitely thinks he ruined his chance, and he doesn't blame his crush if they want nothing to do with him. But even so, after his siblings are saved, he intentionally wraps his tail around their wrist, asking to talk.

That's when he genuinely apologizes, for everything. His attitude, what he said, his drunken rage, all of it. His tail never lets go of them during since he wants them to listen. He looks up when his feels the spade getting thumbed by them, a smile of their face. He fell for them harder in that moment, and he hopes to formally ask them out after his apprenticeship is over.

Zevlor

Out of the other two tieflings on this list, Zevlor has a lot of control of his tail. He's a soldier, a Hellrider, he learned how to control every aspect of his body, including his pesky tail.

Anything he does with his tail would be on purpose, unless its relaxed and idle. He's gotten great at hiding what he feels by his hardening soldier days. Showing fear was not an option.

Even while he has a crush, he's the tiefling that hides it the best and doesn't change how he acts. He's still casual and open to conversation, but nothing more than that at first.

He's an older man now, his prime is long gone, and he has too many things to worry about. A silly crush is the least of his worries and he's very sure his crush does not feel the same about him.

This is especially after his failure in the Shadow Cursed Lands. He betrayed people who trusted him, leading them into a slaughter. How could his crush even look at him the same? He would never understand why they would still speak to him after everything, but here they are.

He notices his crush for them getting much bigger after that, but all he can think about is how pathetic he was for it. After all he's done? How dare he?

But he finds his purpose again during that final battle, and he finds his self-respect too. After the whole mess, he seeks his crush out to confess, just so he can have some closure on it. He'll never move on from these feelings otherwise.

It starts off as a casual conversation, making sure they were uninjured during the events, and them fussing over any injury he sustained. They were about to leave to find a healing potion, but he stops them with his tail around their waist.

When he lets go, he says everything on his mind about them. What he admires, how he feels, his hopes for their relationship. He's surprised by their excited affirmation that they feel the same, and his tail happily thumps on the wooden floor.

Throughout their relationship, he would start using his tail to tease them, especially to block them from going somewhere or grabbing them. He loves how it makes them laugh.

[ephemeral--dreams]

blood and grenadine

Scar/Reader

Word count: 1,531

Rating: M

Warnings: Scar is his own warning...!

Notes: feral cat reader who cannot accept affection is very important to me thanks. anyway I haven't stopped thinking about scar for a month. get him out of my head

☆ ☾ ☆ ──────────────────

You grit your teeth. It's getting tiring, the way he kept doing this. No, it is stressful. The way he goes around taking people you care about or causing mass destruction to get your attention. You worry that he's going to end up killing someone before you ever get there to confront him. Someone could get hurt, and it'll be your fault, because he's only targeting them because of his obsession with you. You wish he'd just come after you directly instead of doing all this. You don't like these little games he plays.

It's a typical but no less frustrating sight to show up to fire everywhere and screaming and him waiting for you expectantly. His head tilts. “What a coincidence. I've been expecting you.”

“Don't call it a coincidence when you did this on purpose,” it comes out scathing, sharp. He only smiles pleasantly.

“Why stop doing something that brings results? You should stop giving me what I want by showing up. You're conditioning me~”

“You can't-” you look away, trying not to simmer in your own guilt. It's stupid. You know it. He'd caused chaos before you and he'd do it whether you came or not. But you still feel as if it's your fault. If you could manage to stop him then these things wouldn't keep happening, but he always seems to get away after he has his fun. “What do I have to do to make you stop, then?”

It's worth a try. Maybe there's something he wants. Something you can get for him or… you don't know. Anything.

“Stop?” he laughs, as if the very idea is absolutely hilarious to him. Some thin thread inside of you snaps. You can't do this anymore. This cycle of violence. Innocent people getting hurt. The feeling of being helpless against it all.

“This is about me, isn't it? Then come after me. You want to fight? Then I will fight you. You want to hurt someone? Hurt me. Leave out the extra steps to get my attention. You don't need to involve anyone else.”

He's silent for a long moment as he stares at you. It's unusual for him to stop talking. But there's some sort of interest. That's what you're betting on. 

“Do you have any idea what you're offering?”

“I'm offering whatever you want.”

The expression that spreads across his face sends a shiver down your spine, his grin razorblade sharp conflicting with the strange infatuation in his eyes as he steps closer, heat radiating as he steps into your space. You resist the urge to step back. “You. Be mine for the night, and everyone here gets to run free! Isn't it a fair deal?”

There's all kinds of implications there that you don't like. God only knows what exactly he plans to do. Giving him free reign over you for even a night is a terrible, terrible idea. But does your safety really matter in comparison to that of others?

It doesn't. 

“...Fine. It's a deal.”

“You've made an excellent choice, little lamb. Let's not waste time,” the portal opens before you are given even a single chance to second guess, a hand on your shoulder coaxing you through. “Come, come. We'll have a good time, I promise. You'll want to join me when I'm done with you~”

☆

You're so tense. You always are. It's one of the easiest things to notice about you. Though it's rather troublesome when what he needs from you is for you to trust him, let him get into your head. 

“...What do you want me to do,” you ask the moment you're both through the portal, not even a moment to get your bearings. Straight to business. 

"Patience, dearest," Scar murmurs, hand still wrapped around yours in a one-sided grip as he leads you through the maze of halls. "First, we must prepare. Sometimes in order to experience the best in life, you have to shed the old.”

Your silence is uneasy, terse. You're waiting for the other shoe to drop, he can tell. It's like you think he's going to do something awful! As if he would, now that he's finally gotten a chance to get his hands on you in a way that isn't a mere fight. You simply don't appreciate how much effort he goes to just to get you to look at him. You act as if he's always out to torment you for the sake of it. 

Which he's not. His intentions are so clear! How haven't you realized it yet? The obliviousness is as endearing as it is frustrating. It's because you don't think of anything but the weight of the world. Stupid, overly self sacrificial little lamb. Not tonight.

He tugs you through his bedroom to the connecting bathroom. You stand in the corner watching warily as he sets the faucet on the tub running, debating which of the oils he wants to put in. What would you like? He knows so much about you but not such simple things. If only you weren't so resistant. He puts in what reminds him most of your perfume after a long moment of contemplation. Then he moved to light some candles. Too dark in here. Scar paid attention to every detail, setting the mood for the evening.

The water steams as he shuts off the stream. He turns to you expectantly, then moves to guide you over himself when you don't come over. “Well?” If you're not going to undress yourself he has no issue helping you along. 

You look at him. You look at the water. You look back. Suspicious. Hmph. You think a simple bath is an attempt to drown you, is that it? What a warped imagination. He's never met someone so overly cautious. “Little lamb, it's just a bath. You've got ash on you from all that chaos earlier, hm? Get in, come on.”

You look no less defensive over it, movements stiff as you obey regardless, clothing neatly folded as it is removed before you sink into the water with the kind of hesitance that feels entirely out of place for what is supposed to be a moment of relaxation. That's all it is. He just wants to ease the tension. That's it! 

He thinks that it's a good thing the tub is big enough for two, as he strips and slips in behind you. 

"Little lamb, relax," Scar's voice is quiet, his hands on your shoulders, kneading them. All the while, you remain stiff, a contrast to the warmth of the water. You really think he's going to harm you, don't you? Skittish. Perhaps that's not so surprising, but.. He lets out a soft sigh. Adorable, but so difficult. “Enjoy it. I’m not the grasping hand all the time, dearest.”

“You're a violent maniac,” is all you say in response.

“And you're too tense,” He feels a bit like he's coaxing a feral cat into accepting affection. It's as endearing as it is pitiful. Do you even know how to relax, he wonders? With how much you burden yourself with things he wouldn't be surprised if the answer was no. You almost seem more distressed when he's here being gentle with you than when he tries to attack you. As if it's all a complete and utter shock to your system. “It would do you good to let go of things. You can't can't carry so much weight forever, you know.”

You let out a quiet huff, but are otherwise silent. Is the idea really so preposterous to you? 

A little of the tension starts to ease from your body under his attention eventually, though. The slightest bit. But it is a step in the right direction. He's got his work cut out for him if he ever wants to get you to love him back, now doesn't he?

“This isn't a battlefield. I don't intend to hurt you tonight. Alright? I just wanted some alone time with you. You can calm down. You've got to give me a chance, dear~”

You tilt your head to look back at him balefully. “Maybe if you stopped causing me stress…”

“Poor little lamb,” he coos, hands still rubbing over your back. “Does it upset you that much?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. Then I'll break into your house next time I want to see you. Then you can't complain. Yes?” Let it not be said that he can't compromise. 

“I- fine. Whatever. Just don't attack anyone. Please.”

“Please? Are we pleading now? How cute. But alright,” Scar leans down to kiss the top of your head. You tense again. “Shh, shh, let it happen~ Don't go all stiff again now.”

“What do you want.”

“I want you to be mine, of course. But I'll accept it if you stop acting like I'm going to stab you in the back every time I touch you, for now.”

“...A tall order.”

“We have all night.”

You sigh. “Try your best, then,” it's all the acquiescence you will offer to his intent. But Scar will take it.

He has you in his grasp now. It's only a matter of time before he gets your heart. 

[anxious-witch]

I am actually kinda insane over how similar Crystal and Edwin are in some things, and that's why they don't get along at first, because how can you like someone who is reflecting everything you hate about yourself?

I wonder if Edwin ever thought about how his life would have gone if he lived. Sure, he wouldn't have been tortured in hell, but I can't really imagine his life being great, given he was a gay man in 1900s. If the ritual failed or if there was no ritual at all, he still would have gotten bullied by Simon and the other boys. We don't know anything about his family, but I think we can safely say it wasn't a very loving, affectionate one. If Edwin lived, burdened by small, everyday injustices and pains of life, would he have grown cruel? Spiteful? Bitter?

I am not saying torture in hell for over 70 years was in any way easy, but I think that it was so severe-too severe, given Edwin didn't do anything-for Edwin to ever accept he deserved it, despite his shame around his sexuality.

But if he lived his entire life in shame? Even if he did everything right, got a wife, had kids, he would have to be aware of being gay at some point. If there was no Charles to show him a true goodness he and in turn, other people were capable of. If he lived long enough I wonder if he would have turned to similar copying mechanism as Crystal. Hurting people in the way he had been hurt.

As for Crystal, we saw she was capable of the change once she forgot the hurt she endured and when she had Charles and Edwin. There is something very tragic that for both her and Edwin, it was a demon that made them suffer disproportionately, but that ultimately led them to want to help people because of it.

Idk just. I need more of them bonding and understanding each other in S2. I need Crystal to be broken over how mean she was before she lost her memories, and I need Edwin to empathize. Because as much as I think Charles is wonderful and he would try his best to support her, I think he copes in very different ways.

Like yes, he lashes out physically, but he only loses his temper when there is an actual danger or his friends are threaten.

What Crystal and Edwin do is lash out at the chance of being threatened, to destroy the threat before it happens, and sometimes they are wrong about what is a threat. And I need them so badly to bond over it. Please?

[polyamorousmood]

My gf (mtf) is fairly monogamous but I'm not necessarily, especially with sex. I have an offer from our mutual male friend (cis) to try penetration since I (afab nb) am terrified but curious about it and he's one of the only cis guys I'd feel comfortable trying that with. I have hooked up with him once before, prior to meeting my gf, and it was really good. My gf is fairly supportive about it, one of the things that really works for us sex-wise is that neither of us want penetration in our relationship. I'm just absolutely terrified of making her insecure and ruining her friendship with our friend. I know I can function fine with blurring the lines between sex, friends, and partners, but she's got the trauma of an ultra-Christian childhood and has so much constant dysphoria that I'm scared something like this could ruin our relationship. We talked so much when he first offered and I know she's not opposed, but I just keep thinking about all the horror stories I've read about couples opening up their relationship or trying poly after being mono and it ruining them. Especially if I end up wanting it more than just once with our friend. I don't particularly need advice, I'm just laying in bed next to her in the dark scrolling horrifying stories on Reddit while talking with our friend over text getting all up in my head about our dynamics and I don't have anyone to vent to about this right now. I figure a polyam blog on tumblr will at least understand that nuances that come with figuring this stuff out. Thanks for listening

It's really fair that you'd be worried about this, and it's a really good sign for everything that you want to do this consciously and carefully - if at all. Sincerely the worst thing about polyamory (and related things) is how isolating it can be. 😣Oftentimes, the only person you can even discuss problems with is the partner who is also all up in the problem. Which I clearly don't need to explain to you how that sucks.

You said you didn't need anything but listening. But like, it's me. So.... 🤷‍♀️

Reddit and the forums are the mother of all selection biases: happy people generally don't feel the need to post about their lives online, and people who have found something sustainable but not completely perfect don't feel like their input is valuable because they "still have problems" even though how things can work really well or well enough is probably some of the most valuable information to you!

It's not your fault if your partner lies about or grossly mis-estimates her okayness level on this. And if she is the type of person to usually lies about or grossly mis-estimates her okayness level with things, its bound to be a problem at some point, even if you can successfully avoid it being a problem on this one issue by being really anxious.

🗣📢EXPLICITLY UNSOLICITED ADVICE WARNING🚨🚨 Everything up to this point could be construed as "just thoughts" but the following is unambiguously advice. Stop reading now if you want to continue in your unadvized state. She cannot assure you with 100% certainty she will not have a problem with it. If she tries, all she'll do is lock herself into not being able to tell you if she does. The only helpful thing in these situations I have found is to establish a procedure for what to do if there is a problem. Give her the tools to find something that's comfortable for her. Give her the certainty that you will listen to her, talk things through (which is sometimes a solution on its own!), and not hold it against her if you need to make changes. Then you can rest assured if there are problems, they won't last.

When you're doing "but I don't want to hurt herrrrrr😖" anxiety calculus, remember your non monogamous tendencies probably aren't going to stop! So also evaluate if you'd be okay with never ever doing anything with someone besides your gf. And if you're not. It will probably hurt her worse if you say you're fine with staying monogamous forever now, and then feel like you're about to snap two years later. So just like. Factor that into your calculations, too, haha!😅

And as a close

I'm with you. I feel you. This blog has DMs open if you want to talk more organically or about details you don't want to be public. No matter how this shakes out, you will get through to the other side.💙💖🖤

[alice-after-dark]

Deer Wife AU - Special Broadcast

Inspired by @hiemaldesirae's deer sinner Vox designs (1 | 2 | 3 | 4) and his Attic-Wife Vox AU

Vox listens to Alastor's radio show for the first time.

Feel better soon, Ran!

Alastor's show is its own trigger warning.

The radio Alastor had gotten him was gorgeous. It was a beautiful Cathedral-style one, handcrafted and custom made. Vox had flustered endlessly when Alastor had casually placed it atop his bedside table. It had to have cost a small fortune! He couldn't possibly accept such a gift! But Alastor had only tutted, told him he deserved the best, and assured him his finances were not at all in jeopardy. He was happy to spoil him.

Vox now lies across his bed, waiting eagerly for Alastor's show to start. The red deer had been mysterious about what exactly his show would entail, especially regarding his "special guest" for the event. Vox hasn't left his room much since the incident, but Alastor has assured him that it's alright. He had quite the scare, after all. The blue deer feels a burst of butterflies when he hears the Radio Demon's smooth voice filter in over the static.

"Salutations, listeners!" Alastor greets his audience. "Today I have a very special broadcast for you! A little lesson in what happens when someone touches what is mine."

The static flares for a moment on the last word and Vox's heart beats faster. Alastor is talking about him. He's announcing to all of Hell that Vox belongs to him. That should probably disturb him more than it does. It probably definitely shouldn't make him as giddy as a teenage girl who just got asked to go steady with her boyfriend. Never in his life had he truly felt so entirely and utterly wanted. Alastor took him for everything he was and everything he wasn't. He made him feel safe and secure in a way he never had. He handled him with care and doted on him endlessly. Alstor made him feel like something precious, not just a pretty face.

In the background, Vox can hear the faint muffled whimpers and cries of who he assumes is the Sinner he'd killed. It had been about two weeks before the Sinner had regenerated enough for Alastor to proclaim him broadcast-ready...whatever that meant. He can hear the red deer's footsteps as he moves closer to those stifled sounds.

"Oh come now, my good man! This is quite unbecoming! Sniveling like this, my goodness. What would the papers say?"

There is a light shuffling and a gasp.

"I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY! PLEASE LET ME GO! I SWEAR I WON'T GO NEAR HIM AGAIN! YOU'LL NEVER SEE ME AGAIN! PLEASE!"

Alastor laughs and the sound makes Vox's heart flutter. "Why you are certainly right on both those claims, sir! You won't ever touch him again and no one will ever see you again."

Whatever the Sinner intends to say next is cut off by his own screams. The sound of flesh tearing erupts from the speakers.

He's eating him alive, Vox realizes as a shiver rushes up his spine. He's eating him alive on live broadcast for all of Hell to hear because he hurt me.

Eventually, the screams fade out and only a weak gurgling is left in their place. Then silence until Alastor's voice returns.

"I do hope that was as much of a joy for you all as it was for me! Until next time, my listeners!"

Music began to play (Vox recognized it as one of the songs Alastor would play for him on the record player) and soon enough there was a knock on his door. Despite his recent meal, Alastor is pristine as always. He puts his arms around Vox's waist and pulls him close. "Did you like the show, my dear?"

Vox nods eagerly, snuggling up to the Radio Demon's chest. "It was great. Are all your shows like that?"

-

Alastor hums as he traces Vox's ear with the tip of his claw, making it twitch. "Not all of them. Sometimes I talk about myself and my life above. Sometimes I just play music. It depends on my mood really."

The blue deer flattens his ears. "You've barely told me anything about your life! I only just got started listening to your show..." He squeaks when Alastor picks him up and carries him over to the little loveseat nestled into the corner of the room. He sets Vox on his lap and kisses his quickly.

"All you need do is ask, darling. What you you like to know?"

The suggestive position makes the blue deer blush, but he quickly shakes it off. He leans his head on Alastor’s should and gazes up at him adoringly. "What was your first kill like?"

"My, my, going right for the jugular, aren't we?" The Radio Demon sits back, eyes wistful. "It was my uncle, actually. My father had recently passed and..."

(Here's the radio he got Vox btw. Fun fact, it costs almost 50k)

[starlightsreigns]

kiss it better

pairing: roman reigns x oc (asia)

warnings: none!

word count: 1568

summary: pride, arguments, and refusing to listen to each other ruined asia and roman. now, they have the chance to reconnect, but that's only if they can finally open up.

"been waitin’ on that sunshine, boy, i think i need that back…"

  asia’s legs bounces in anxiety as she sits backstage, up on one of the equipment crates that she knew she’d be yelled at about soon enough. she crosses her legs to lessen the awkward bouncing, but her mind is far away. to help with the stress, she’s playing music in her airpods, hoping to settle. first night back on the road from injury is scarier than most people would think, she’s anticipated her return for months, and now that it was here… what now? 

rihanna’s voice fills her ear as kiss it better plays, almost as soon as roman walks past those curtains. she feels like she can shrink into herself. yet, she’s a bad bitch, unafraid of getting in someone’s face and getting what she wants, but that was different with him. he knew her weakness, and how to dismantle every fucking wall she builds up with one swing. he’s rude as shit like that. 

roman was the one who suggested the break. he and asia were arguing too much before her injury, they were in each others faces too much, he doesn’t yell often, but with her, he couldn’t get a word in when she started. it wasn’t her fault. asia was passionate, a lover girl, and sometimes he didn’t understand her. she didn’t think he fought enough for her and he thought she was asking for too much. she wanted to be his person, but that nigga was hard headed, he wants to deal with everything on his own. 

so, the night before she was injured, he called it a pause. asia took it, not willing to fight for something he obviously didn’t want to fight for. yet, she cried herself to sleep that night in her hotel room. asia couldn’t bring herself to answering his calls or texts at the hospital, or the months following. that was a breakup. it made it all too official. 

yet, now when she looks up, his eyes are on her. asia can feel herself crumbling under his gaze. it hurts inside, just as rihanna is singing the song that so perfectly describes this moment. roman is prideful, she knew he wouldn’t come up to her. asia is even more prideful, so she looks away, staring at the bare wall. 

the night was long, unbearingly long. the conversations didn’t help either. asia’s heels became bothersome, making her shift from

leg to leg as she stood near catering, in the middle of a conversation that bayley and bianca were having. she found herself quiet, tired, and wanting to disappear for a moment. 

“you’re different,” bianca pokes when bayley leaves them. “what’s going on with you, girl?”

asia shakes her head, “why do i feel like this is my first time on smackdown? i feel lost.” 

bianca sighs, “is it because you’re missing roman?” 

asia smiles sadly. she waves off the question, running her fingers through her her as she scans the area around them. at the end of the hallway, roman’s in the middle of a conversation. as if he knew she was looking, their eyes meet. in his typical, aloof nature, he doesn’t react and continues on. 

“i’m gonna go change, B, can we talk more tomorrow night?” 

it was late when asia finally started to exit the stadium. she had to meet with paul, so most of the superstars were gone. so, now, as she carts her suitcase to her rental, her music is blasting through her headphones. 

outside, she spots roman, as if he was waiting for her by his car. he’s paying attention to something on his phone. asia takes a deep breath, popping the trunk and throwing the suitcases in. she glances back to see him looking at her. both adults, acting as school grade kids, just staring at each other as if they weren’t in love. this felt like they have never dated, like they didn’t know each other. asia felt sick to her stomach at the fact that they haven’t said a word to each other, he hasn’t hugged her, kissed her, or sent her a smile. not that she was better because she’s avoided him all night. 

he waited for her. roman waited to make sure she was okay, so that had to mean something. asia breaks the eye contact first, getting into the car. she watches him in the rear view mirror, getting into his car immediately, leaving first. asia leans into the headrest with a sigh. 

why couldn’t they make it work? 

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

seven months ago… 

“hurtin’ vibe, man, it hurts inside”

asia stands in front of roman on the couch, staring down at him in a mix of confusion and anger at his nonchalant demeanor. he looks up at her as if her argument wasn’t valid, as if she was picking it out of thin air. 

“roman, i’m asking you for a simple fucking thing, bro, why the fuck can’t you understand that.” 

roman stands, “asia, damn!” he yells. 

they fall silent. asia steps back before a dry laugh falls from her lips. she paces back and forth in front of him, trying to calm herself down, knowing that she can get very emotional at any given moment. roman rubs his hand over his beard. 

asia grunts, “you claim to love me, but i just need reassurance from you and you’re making me beg for that from you like a bitch. why do i have to get on my knees and ask my boyfriend to act like he fucking loves me and he can’t do that.” 

“i don’t act like i love you, asia, really?” roman moves to stand in front of her. “i show you that everyday in my own way, why can’t you see that?” 

“you don’t trust me with anything, roman, i ask you to open up to me and be deeper. you don’t want to let me in and i can’t understand. do you not trust me or do you not see a future for us, cause if that’s the cause, nigga cut me loose.” asia screams, unable to contain herself. 

“asia.” roman warns as he raises his voice. “stop.” 

asia plops down on the couch, “make your fuckin’ mind up.” 

roman clenches his jaw, “we need to take a break, asia.” 

she didn’t know what to say. asia looks up at him, her eyes water as she waits for him to say anything else. something better than what he just said, but it never comes. so, asia stands, slamming the door of their bedroom door shut, feeling the rattle as she marches into the bathroom. asia turns the shower on, letting the water run as she cries. 

and she cried for god knows how long. 

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

“man fuck your pride, just take it on back, babe”

the rain poured heavily. asia wasn’t this person and she wasn’t one to cry and be, so why was she standing outside, in the pouring rain, standing a few feet away from his front door. he wasn’t home, she figured that out five minutes ago after knocking. was this her sign, to let it go? to move on and find something new? 

as she went to leave, headlights pulled into the driveway. asia felt her stomach drop into her stomach when he opened the car door, stepping into the rain. roman quickly made his way to her, worry filling his eyes. the first emotion she’s gotten out of him in months. looking into his eyes made her tears immediately fall from her eyes that mixes with the rain. 

“asia,” roman searches her eyes. “i saw you on the camera and came. are you okay?” 

“im sorry, roman, i never should’ve said those horrible things to you and pushed you into something that you weren’t ready for and i should’ve been the adult and walked away before it exploded in that fucked up way it did.” 

roman shakes his head, “that ain’t you, baby, i fucked up by not listening to you and talking to you. i was scared of shit i had no business of being scared of.” he steps closer. “with you gone, i realized how ain’t shit going good for me.” 

the rain got heavier, but neither one of them made a move for shelter. 

“you’re everything i’ve ever needed, asia, you the one i want.” roman moves the wet hair from her face. “my pride fucked up everything between us.” 

asia smiles softly, “what are you willing to do, roman?” 

“any and everything for you, forever.” roman returns the smile. “i take everything back. i don’t want a break between us, ever.” 

like two, love sick fools, they’re find themselves smiling at each other. asia reaches out for him, but roman pulls her into the hug that she so desperately has needed for months. the start of repairing something that’s so important to them. 

“can i kiss the love of my life?” roman whispers. 

after a quick nod, roman crashes his lips onto hers. if there wasn’t thunder in the sky before, they caused it to erupt in the sky. asia wraps her arms around his neck as he lifts her, deepening the kiss. 

“i don’t want us to ever do that again.” her murmurs against her lip. 

asia couldn’t help the laugh that came out of her as roman squeezed her tightly, smushing their wet clothes together, too excited to be reunited again. 

thank you for reading my first post, kinda nervy but I love write so here we are lmao. <3 also gif credit above.

[dangerousduckcloud]

Flowerbeds make up for a nice eternal rest

Read it also on AO3

Tears were dampening the blanket you didn’t remember covering yourself with, a hitch on your breath that turned into sobbing. Yesterday you hadn’t reacted at all, a part of you hoping this was some game show you’d been dragged to. Today, you now knew were kidnapped by the weirdest people whom you still didn’t know what they wanted to do to you.

Chapter 2 < > Chapter 4

taglist: @kurai-hono-blog

The exhaustion of the whole day had started to take its toll on you; no matter how much your body wanted to lay down on the flat weight bench you were sitting on in the training area —or drag yourself all the way to the beds in the medbay— you forced yourself to keep awake.

So far, they hadn’t tried to do anything to you, sometimes so caught up in whatever they were researching for in the computer that they wouldn’t even spare a glance towards you. You’re sure they probably even forgot about your existence for a whole hour. A whole hour you could’ve used to catch up in some sleep.

But you didn’t want to give them the chance to hurt you so easily. The tight suits didn’t hide much, specially Nigthwing’s, so anyone who saw him for a second could notice he was someone who exercised regularly.

Red Robin’s suit wasn’t as tight as Dick’s, the material sturdier around the torso and the legs, but his bare arms were the arms of someone who could lift heavy weights.

The two combined, your chances of fighting your way out were slim, probably non-existent.

If you didn’t have something to defend yourself with, of course. When they’d become too engrossed on the functions of the weapon, you casually strode inside the medbay, grabbing another bottle of water and slowly drinking from it.

Once both had their backs towards you, you quickly stored a scalpel on your hoodie’s pocket, hoping you wouldn’t need it.

They were probably the most chill and/or stupid kidnappers you’ve ever heard off, as they hadn’t even thought to tie you up and throw you into what seemed to be a holding cell of some sort. Had they forgotten to do that, or was it just for decoration?

Either way, you weren’t complaining.

But now you were frazzled and bored out of your mind, slightly pinching the tip of the scalpel every second or so to keep you up, but not strong enough to hurt your thumb.

Had anyone even noticed your disappearance? It had been… Seven, eight hours since you woke up on the floor? And how long were you passed out before that? There was no one waiting for you home, not even a cat, right now regretting moving from your hometown to start anew.

With a day off tomorrow —or was it today, already?— and no plans to go out during the weekend, it was likely people wouldn’t notice your abduction until Monday when you didn’t turned up for work.

Two whole days and no one would notice.

You chose to pretend the tear drop making its way down your cheek had appeared from your continuous yawning and nothing else.

“Yeah, but the coordinates were the same as here, however there’s this number—” A loud crash woke you up and cut off Tim’s sentence. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah.” The sleep had overcome you, your body bit by bit nodding off until you hit the dumbbell rack, knocking the less heavy ones. “I tripped.”

“You tripped.” Dick said, expressionless. “While sitting.”

“I can be quite clumsy.”

“Jane, if you’re tired, you’re free to sleep on one of the beds.” Dick mentioned, his right hand directed towards them.

“I’m alright, I—”

“You’re safe here.” And that blasted smile again confused your sleep-clouded mind, a part of you wanted to trust him, but this was all so weird there was no way they didn’t want to do anything to you. “I promise.”

But they’d also been acting nice to you, like true vigilantes trying to help a civilian in need. And you still didn’t know what they would do if you stopped playing their game. So, with a lackluster nod, you laid down on the bed, fighting the sleep once you heard hushed voices.

“She’s weird.” Tim whispered.

“What?”

“She’s so…” Silence for a couple of seconds, most likely the boy trying to find the right words. “Composed. I don’t get it. She’s not acting like someone who got dragged to another universe.”

“It happens sometimes. When people suffer something traumatic, they go into shock, sometimes not registering what’s going on, and acting as if all is well. Take it as… As if she’s on autopilot.”

A low hum was heard, the tinkering of tools acting as white noise to help you sleep. “But still, the way she looks at us… Don’t you feel as if she’s hiding something? Could she be related to whatever those people did to B?”

“I don’t know, baby bird.” With a doleful voice, Dick replied, noting the weight of the world on his shoulders at the man remembering the disappearance of his ‘father’. “We’ll find out. But we must get her someplace else, she can’t stay here. Maybe we could…”

With heavy eyelids dropping, you couldn’t hear what he was thinking on doing. Maybe you should’ve tried your best to stay up, to learn if they were a threat to you, but you were too jaded to even care at this point.

_____

You promised yourself last week would’ve been the last time you’d be up all-night reading. Of course, like most vows as this one, you did it again this week, going so far that you even had the most conscious dream about being in the batcave.

It was a good dream though, you’ll admit. Maybe you could try and turn it into a fanfic of your own.

With a lazy hand fishing around for your phone on the nightstand, you forced one eye opened when no matter how high your hand went up you couldn’t even feel the edge of the bedside table. That was because there wasn’t any furniture next to you, instead what resembled a hospital bed a meter away from you.

Did something happen to you?

“You’re awake.”  Startled, you turned around towards the voice, the same masked guy from your dreams standing in front of you, a food tray on his hands, and a sheepish smile on his face. “I brought you some food. Sometimes it’s easy to forget normal people eat three times a day.”

“It… wasn’t a dream?”

“No, I’m sorry.”  Dick’s smile turned feeble, dragging a wheeled metal table to put down the food tray. “But I promise we’re doing everything we can to get you back home.”

Tears were dampening the blanket you didn’t remember covering yourself with, a hitch on your breath that turned into sobbing. Yesterday you hadn’t reacted at all, a part of you hoping this was some game show you’d been dragged to.

Today, you now knew were kidnapped by the weirdest people whom you still didn’t know what they wanted to do to you.

The scalpel still hidden on your pocket felt heavy with every breath, would it be wise to use it right now? There was no sign of Tim anywhere, and even though you hadn’t seen any of them use the hidden door that should lead to Bruce’s study in the manor, there had to be a way out of here.

As inconspicuous as you could, you hand wandered over the blanket until it disappeared inside the pocket, fingers hovering over the handle.

“Jane?” The soft voice brought you to your senses, white lenses looking at you, gloved hands moving up and down your arms, hands that your mind wanted far away, but your body needed them there, closer. “I know, I know. But it’s going to be alright, you have my word.”

He was so close, unaware of your arms, so focused on your face he wouldn’t notice if you stabbed him on the back.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

“Why don’t you eat? There’s something I need to tell you.” He pulled away, taking with him your opportunity to escape. However, all thoughts disappeared once he plucked the lid over the tray, the wonderful smell invading your nose, a plate of pasta and meat waiting for you. “It’s vegan meat. You looked tired and we didn’t want to wake you up, so we went for the safest option. My youngest brother doesn’t eat meat, so most of our meals are made with this. I can attest it’s good, in case you’re not vegan.”

Your stomach rumbled, and so you took a bite, relishing on the flavors and the seasoning used on the food. Was this Alfred’s legendary cooking?

Of course not, Alfred didn’t exist.

“I don’t think you wanted to tell me about your brother.” With a croaky voice, you spoke after several bites. Dick chuckled, sitting on a wheeled chair.

“You’re right.” He had his elbows resting on his knees, a hand covering his mouth. He kept looking to your left, mulling over his words. “You can’t stay here”

The pasta curled around the fork dropped to the plate at your sudden stop, cutlery halfway to your mouth.

“What?”

“The cave is not the safest place for a civilian to be. Not to mention the lack of privacy.”

You couldn’t argue against that, the only shower here was in a locker room, a simple curtain shielding you from wandering eyes, you didn’t accept Dick’s offer at a shower after seeing it, now feeling uncomfortable with the grime accumulating on you.

“Where… Where would I go?”

“We have… A friend, his name is Bruce Wayne, he can take you in while we sort this out. He has a daughter around your age, she could bring a sense of normalcy during this time.”

With the way he’s talking about ‘Bruce’, you doubt he’ll just walk you up the stairs into the manor, so they’ll have to take you out the cave to get there, giving you another opportunity to escape.

“He’ll just… Let me stay there?” You kept up the game. “For no reason?”

“He has a history of taking in strays” He said with a fond smile. “He’s always available to help people.”

Something didn’t seem right to you. If they believed you were from some other universe, why bother with trying to protect Bruce’s identity? If they believed you were from some other universe, you shouldn’t even know who he was. If he’s ‘gone’, there’s no point on telling you about some guy you’ll never get to meet.

“Shouldn’t…” You lick your lips, what you were about to say next could turn things ugly. Make them show their true selves. “Isn’t this something the police should deal with?”

Eyes frowning, smile dropping, stance rigid, tension around you both; that’s what you were expecting to happen, but he only scratched his nose, unbothered.

“They’re not the most prepared to deal with this kind of things. You know, otherworldly stuff.” You sighed, glad he didn’t turn violent; however, he must’ve mistaken it for hopelessness. “But I can assure you, we know what we’re doing.”

“How will we get there? To Mr. Wayne’s house.”

“That’s the best part.” He stood up, and with a move of his chin asked you to follow him.

Out the medbay and into a circular platform from which you couldn’t see anything due to being extremely dark, Dick walked to a wall, flipping up a switch, turning on the lights overhead the platform.

And under the lights as if in a museum display, was the batmobile.

[gordontheengineswifenirmal]

The asexual struggle -

When it comes to the ‘are we LGBTQ+’ question, a lot of us asexuals have complexities far beyond the label, or multiple associations.

Let’s start at the beginning. For folks who are traditional LGTBQ+ - do u remember how hard it was to get to the limited, tepid (to say the least) level off acceptance that you have today? Asexuality in general isn’t there yet. We are still a few decades behind in the society’s mind. We share a lot of similar struggles - we are seen as broken, people think we choose who we are, than can/want to/should be ‘fixed’, etc. we too have dangerous negative associations attached to us. We get called paedo, we are called prudes or incels, we are told we can and should change. Society needs to understand that the lack of attraction, and/or lack of desire, resolution, etc. - and everything in between deserves just as much recognition as this who have heterosexual, or lgbtq+ sexual identities.

What puts us behind? We are rarely even acknowledged. We are the red headed stepchild, sort to speak. No one really knows us, or our struggles, they don’t care. They think we are a joke. It’s incredibly hurtful and damaging. We are frequently overlooked and misunderstood. We are often not taken seriously, and frequently ignored by both straight and other other non straight folks. We have fighting within our own community that causes confusion. This still does not give anyone an excuse to invalidate our existence. We, just like anyone else, didn’t choose it. Some folks struggle with it. Some of us have learned to embrace it in the wake up struggle, but there is usually struggle. Additionally, some folks can be both lgbtq+ AND some form of asexual. (In my case, I like male characters who are not human or animals. Apparently I’ve developed a thing for male machines lol.)

For some folks, the LGBTQ+ identity has more relevance. That is ok, as long as they have sincere intentions, and aren’t looking for attention. Yes, using sexually/gender identification for attention - that is a thing, and it’s been a thing for ages. For me, the label doesn’t mean so much. I don’t even really say I’m queer. I’m definitely unique, and I’ll stick to that. This does not mean that I feel there’s anything wrong with those who do identify more with LGBTQ+. I’m still an ally. I’m not going to hate someone who decides I’m not part of that greater label. I do take extreme offence with those who ‘bingo’ me, and invalidate who I am, or think I’m not serious about it. Worse yet, the ones who think I chose to be asexual, or decide they will ignore how I feel because they don’t know what sexuality is, and don’t care to open up their minds and learn. Then there are those who pretend to be asexual because they are trying to gain something from you, and it’s not clear wtf their intentions are. Or, sometimes it is. Still cringe.

However, in many aspects of society, there’s an unspoken social competition - men vs. Women, sexuality vs sexuality, culture vs culture, religion vs religion, political affiliation vs another political affiliation. There is some relevance behind the reasoning for some of these, but not all. Some of it has become an ego game. This behaviour is toxic. It does not good for anyone involved. It simply persuades prejudice and ignorance. Education, and the willingness to learn is paramount. This was said about the lgbtq+ community, and still is. The asexual community is now saying the same. This is what we are penultimately asking for. We want to learn how to be more recognised, more accepted in society, and given our rightful place. We agree that the mindset of ‘heterosexual is the only healthy identity’ is wrong. Please do not treat us like we are the enemy, especially when we are sex/romance repulsed. We seem gain the most eye rolls - both from within and outside our own own ace sphere. It’s a tiring argument, and we need to spend that energy toward more productive things, working together to help make things better for all ‘minority identities’. Even if u don’t identify with someone else’s sexual identity, respect it. That’s the most important thing. You would want that too. You wouldn’t want to be treated as a joke, as if your sexuality doesn’t matter. Don’t do this to others. This includes all of us in the asexual community, no matter what that may mean for us individually.

[yourfandomfriend]

La Vie en Rouge || IwtV Meta

I've really been getting into the second season of Interview with the Vampire. The first season was great, but there's just something about season two employing one of my favorite devices:

Paranoia!

Not only can fictional characters say one thing and do another, (something that never fails to baffle audiences) but once you establish that the audience is being deceived, they start to question everything...

Well, not everything.

** SPOILERS** for Interview with the Vampire, Season 2**SPOILERS**

Theater of Lovers

So… extra disclaimer: while I've been a fan of the Vampire Chronicles since I started reading the books in the mid-90s (yes, I'm very old) I'm not what you'd call "down bad" for the shallow idea of godlike killers whose every move is too beautiful for words. Like Daniel, I have issues with abusive, predatory assholes having such good PR.

One of the other things I always found hard to swallow was the way everyone in the books embodied roleplay personas.

I almost always see some of this whenever fiction turns erotic: characters don't just roleplay in the bedroom, or even try to play that role in real life. They are their role. The guy who is dominant in the sack is dominant to the bone, every minute of every day. Not because he wants to be, or even because his partner wants it, but because someone else is watching.

Feels kinda like it's all to get us off. That the characters aren't abstractions of people, they aren't attracted to each other or have itches that need scratching. The story is just an excuse for kinky scenarios, so go ahead and beat off because it's all just porn.

And if that's true, then you don't want to ever scratch the surface and find out the cliches you project onto are more complex than you thought. That would kill your boner.

But I feel like most of us have far more... sophisticated boners. Porn is dandy for being porn and not much else, but a romantic story isn't interesting for me unless the characters feel like people. And you know what? People have their own fantasies, ones that have nothing to do with me. They like to be someone else sometimes. They like to pretend, to play.

So I've really enjoyed this departure from the source material with Louis and Armand's relationship. Not only do they enjoy roleplay, but it also isn't because they are those roles -- a strong, dominant master and a weak, submissive minion -- but because there's something in each's bottle that desperately needs uncorking.

Series!Louis didn't have the luxury of being himself in his mortal life, and so only let himself be completely vulnerable for the first time with his maker, his first love… and got broken for his trouble.

And his brother, Paul, walked off a roof after Louis said "I love you." So it makes sense that part of his fantasy with Armand is, "You can't hurt me."

Meanwhile, Armand's only truly happy memories were of worshipping his maker. Since then, he's been saddled with the insufferable duty of keeping the Paris coven jackals in line, something he feels he can't abandon (for reasons that aren't obvious).

But Armand doesn't have the emotional strength to endure the relentless isolation of tuning up that clown car for eternity so it's only natural that he'd seek to occasionally regress to a happier time, if only in the privacy of an intimate relationship.

The trouble here isn't with roleplay, but with the way Louis and Armand insist that their play is reality. Their costumes are their own clothes, they swear, and their lines are their own words.

But we've seen this version of Louis before. He explains from the jump, right when we begin the new interview, that he plays tough because he knows what happens to the weak. Armand, though, is a bit more of an unfolding mystery.

The Glass Cannon

So... anyone else get the impression that this show wants us to feel, at least subconsciously, that despite everything, Armand is a delicate rose amongst the dickweeds? No matter how many scenes of his treachery and ruthlessness pile up? Because it quietly builds a case across seasons one and two.

From the moment they met, Louis could sense Armand's ancient power. The power to squish him like a bug with a thought. And that could very well have been the way it ended for Louis.

When Armand warned Louis not to anger the coven, Louis assumed he was being threatened and humbly capitulated, calling him "Maître." But was corrected. "It's 'Armand' for you."

Armand's job at this point was to bring Louis into the fold, by force if necessary, or else eliminate him, but still allowed him to refuse, over and over. Even though he had Cladia as leverage, even though he could drive Louis into the ground like a tent peg. Even though the coven grew furious. Armand still followed him around. Courting a fly that it was his job to swat.

Later, as Louis continues to be haunted by the ghost of his maker, he tries to take a picture of Lestat. When he developed it, though, there was just an empty space where Lestat had seemed to stand. An empty space... But not an empty frame.

Later, Louis is showing his photos to a gallerist who singles out the Ghost Lestat portrait, seeing only Armand -- alone, out of focus, pushed to the edge of the frame by a subject who wasn't there -- and sees the secret truth of his soul. His fragility. But Louis insists he knows Armand and he's "anything but."

Against the wishes of the coven, Armand spared Louis' life, asking why "those with the most power are often the weakest?"

When Armand tells his backstory to Louis -- the slavery and abuse he endured as Arun, his maker loving him but whoring him out to his friends as Amadeo, and now the unwanted duty and power of ruling the Paris coven as Armand -- and he asks Louis, "who am I?"

Eventually, Louis answers him: "Arun." Is that the real answer? We don't know, but it's the most convenient answer. For Louis.

So Louis plays the aloof master and Armand plays the affectionate lapdog. All the while, it seems, Armand is scheming and manipulating in the background.

In the present, he insists that's not the case, that his role in "what happened in Paris" was a single act of cowardice, rather than him pulling the strings behind it all, and everything else was done on Louis' behalf.

But the audience has already caught him in three huge lies.

As I write these words, it's the Thursday before the season two finale. And I wonder, are those the only two choices before us? Trust Armand completely -- trust that he is ultimately good and loving and blameless -- or assume he's evil and lying about everything?

Are Good and Evil our only choices? Or is what is done for love something beyond both?

Under The Burning Sky

Another great change to the source material is Old!Daniel. Allowed to live out his life in the wake of a savage brush with death, "The Boy" from the first interview matures into a journalist in his seventies, wise and cynical, sore at being taken advantage of, embarrassed by the foolishness of his past, and uniquely able to deconstruct Louis' bullshit and call out plot holes, many that only exist due to the massive retcon between books one and two.

Some people assume he's there to mock the source material, and thus the people who love it, rather than to demonstrate character by provoking two (canonically) defensive liars into giving a more truthful interview, and admitting that there's not only trouble in paradise but that it might've become a parking lot in the interim.

The source material takes itself seriously, but that doesn't even last until the second book when Lestat takes the mic away and calls bullshit on everything that came before. So why can't Daniel flip this rock over early for our amusement without it being an insult to the Chronicles and their fans?

PS, I know a lot of people are pining for "Devil's Minion," the story of Armand becoming casually obsessed with young Daniel after Louis let him live, hunting him around the world, and the whole thing working out to them being in a relationship. And they've even made some compelling theories for Old!Daniel's memories of his ex-lover "Alice" actually being an altered memory of Armand.

But I don't know how to feel about that.

I guess it would be cool... A big reveal about Daniel's past, adding to the themes of the season, and a pairing that's true to canon while still being unexpected. But as much as I love Young!Daniel, as endearing as he is, I honestly prefer him as the backstory -- the dlc -- of the far more interesting character that is Old!Daniel.

And if there was going to be a meaningful relationship between them, Young!Daniel would be the status quo. We've been here before.

I would especially prefer to see how aging into a mature, strong-willed, paranoid crank who's seen it all and isn't mystified by the world of vampires would alter his dynamic with the chronically underhanded, theatrical, high-strung, (secretly fragile) Armand.

Thus, the only Daniel/Armand ship reveal I will accept is the "Hello, Again" fight from the end of Saving Silverman…

[abandoned-quiche]

i think what undertale fangames should really strive for is to push undertale's themes of mercy to the edge - push the PLAYER to see what their limits are on who deserves mercy.

[hawkeyeslaughter]

through heavy , heavy tears : hawkeyes first instinct is to be KIND he’s so much less guarded than trapper and even bj when first meeting people ( even ones he probably won’t like ) he always treats them with respect . i’m going to be physically ill

[sluckythewizard]

BUT IM NOT A WRITER. something strange possessed me to write my first proper fanfic in maybe a decade. be niceys to me but also grill me so i can get stronger. this one is a stupidly self indulgent bit between Soda and Emizel, a day or so after emizel was sired. CW for gore descriptions, but thats about it i think. image below is a snippet of the start. the rest of the whole dang thing will be under the cut. ive never posted fanfic ever in my life. read my tags for secret behind da scenes commentary

"Oh shit… I think hes dead…" It was another night, another patrol, another fight, and another win, for Emizel and Soda.

Under moonlight, under street light, under interwoven wires above, the two stood here in a quiet and damp alleyway. The air was drenched with the smell of a previous rain, and the puddles of said storm remain huddled in corners and pot holes.

One splashed as soda found himself stepping forwards into one. The residual adrenaline of the fight had left his body shaking, his heart still pounding, his wounds still throbbing. They had still won; or more-so, Emizel had won. A particularly nasty blow to the side had Soda reduced to the side lines for most of the fight, left to watch as his newly vampiric comrade had absolutely eviscerated the competition.

Emizel had only been turned a day ago, but it was impossible not to notice how it had changed him. He already acted so goddamn confident, so on top of the world, and this newfound power, newfound speed and strength, only built upon his insane ego.

The Fangs that they encountered here on this night stood no fucking chance. Emizel was too quick, too strong, and he easily chased off the rivals. It was only now, as the final unfortunate opponent had turned to flee, a clean clock in the jaw sent the human tumbling to the ground with a dull thump, and it did not move afterward.

Soda shifts his shoe out of the puddle, the cold seeping into his sock being one of the few things keeping his mind in his body in the moment. Is the guy breathing?

A low laugh bleeds from Emizel as he stretches his arms, licking his sharpened teeth as he stares off in the direction the remaining Fangs went. Soda knew that look on his face, the look of a tiger pondering on its next kill, he knew well that Emizel wanted to chase them.

But the guy on the ground.. It was one punch to the face, and the wicked crack sound that came from it had planted a seeding dread within Sodas chest.

As he steps forward, around the puddle, the resulting sound made Emizels attention click back over to Soda, the snap of his gaze making Soda flinch.

The two lock eyes, and Soda weakly gestures to the limp body on the floor. "The uh.. I think.. Is that guy dead?" He finally asks, having a hard time keeping contact with Emizels intensely red eyes.

Emizel turns his attention to said body, tilting his head as he goes to kick at the thing, turning it over. "Man no way hes dead, I punched him once." He mutters.

"Well, yeah, but his head almost twisted all the way around when you did.." Soda steps up to stand beside Emizel, the two boys standing with their hands in their pockets, down at this unfortunate, limp body.

"Should we hide it?" Soda asks, glancing back over at Emizel, who had.. An odd look on his face. He was clearly pondering something, but Soda could only guess whatever was going on in that brilliant head of his. He knew and trusted that Emizel was smart. If anyone could figure out what to do about this, it would be him.

But the lack of an answer had anxiety chewing at the back of Sodas rib cage, and after a second, he speaks up again, compelled to fill what he perceived as a tense silence. "Like.. I dunno, I've never uh... killed a guy..." He shrugs, prompting Emizel to let out a big sigh.

"He's not dead man, just out fuckin cold." Emizel kneels down next to the body, putting an ear up to its chest, and pondering on that for a moment. An uncertainty twists his expression, as he decides to instead place a hand on the victims throat, checking for a pulse. A moment passes, and seemingly finding nothing, he pulls back.

"Uh... Okay, so he might be dead."

Something about the confirmation from Emizel made a shiver run up Sodas spine. That, or maybe it was just the breeze agitating the cold water in his shoe.

"Huh… Damn.." Was all that Soda could really get to leave his mouth. Which was hardly a splash compared to the torrent that was slowly churning in his head. They just killed a guy. Or, Emizel just killed a guy. And it was so easy. They had to hide the body now, right? That was the usual progression here? Getting caught for murder was way more extreme than getting caught for breaking mailboxes with soda cans. It was so, so disturbingly easy. It really was just one punch. It's not like the Fangs are weak by any means, so just one punch? And this guy is dead? Forever?

Or, perhaps by human means, their rivals were fairly tough. But Emizel was on a whole other level. No mortal could stand up to him now...

"Hey, are you okay?"

The question had pulled Soda back from his head, his gaze flicking back over to Emizel, who was looking up at him with those eerie, piercing red eyes. Soda felt another shiver.

"Uh, ieah man, I'm all good." Soda nods, swallowing down whatever anxiety was bubbling up in his throat.

But Emizel didn't seem satisfied by his answer, standing back up and staring down his human comrade. Soda couldn't meet his eyes, his gaze instead traveling downward, and pausing on Emizels red, cut-up shirt. There was something off about the color, the way it seemed darker in some spots, brighter in others.. Wait, wasn't Emizel wearing a white shirt before all this?

The vampire boy seems to pick up on Sodas expression, following his eyes down to his shirt. "Oh, yeah! While you were on the floor, the knife guy got me a little" He says, a stupidly simple smile on his face. Soda was about to let out a laugh at how unbothered his friend seemed by it, but it gets caught in his throat when Emizel goes to pull his shirt up.

The sound of the bloodied fabric peeling away from skin made Sodas own skin crawl, but that wasn't nearly as bad as the sight of the intense gash running from his collar bone, down to his stomach.

"Oh, fuck dude!" Soda gasps, but Emizel laughs it off. Even despite knowing Emizel well, Soda was still surprised by just how much Emizel could shrug off. "Shit, doesn't that hurt, dude?"

"Oh yeah this fucking hurts!" he says with a laugh, his smile big and toothy and proud as he presents this egregious wound. Swollen and angry, pulsing with a slow heartbeat, and still oozing with thick, dark blood.

The sight of the split flesh, and the glints of bone beneath the dark, dark red all tugged at Sodas gag reflex, and yet he couldn't pull his eyes away. So Emizel's just been walking and talking so normally this whole time with his chest just cleaved wide open? Soda felt just as impressed as he felt horrified.

It wasn't until Emizel reaches down to poke at the abhorrent wound that Soda snaps out of it. Watching his friend press his fingers into the bloodied flesh, and slowly pulling it apart, allowing more ichor to seep from the gash, it was too much to watch at this point.

Soda reaches up to put a hand on Emizels wrist, the vampire boy stopping, and looking up at his friend.

Soda found himself freezing again when he locks eyes with Emizel. He was going to say something now, right? "U-uhm.." Is all he really chokes out, giving Emizels wrist a gentle tug. "D-do you. Uh. I suppose a hospital Isn't a place you can go anymore..?"

Emizel just smirks at that, letting Soda pull his hand away from the wound. "Oh, yeah no, but it's fine. I mean, I don't think it's gonna kill me" He shrugs. It was so, so impressive just how unphased Emizel was by all this. Fuck he's actually so cool.

"Well yeah man but it's like, still a bleeding hole. Like you're soaked in blood dude, I'm pretty sure that even a vampire needs that stuff on like, the inside." Soda rubs the back of his head, still unnerved by the sight of it all. "Vampires have like, super healing, don't they?"

"Oh yeah like, regeneration powers. I know I heal faster sometimes but I dunno how to just, activate it on command.." Emizel hums, his eyes narrowing down at his own injury, as if trying to will it into mending. Soda looks away, unable to watch that vile gash ooze any longer.

"I dunno man, how do they do it in like, video games?" Soda tosses the question out, trying to click together some sort of solution in his own head.

"Uhhh.. Huh, video games.." Emizel repeats to himself, chewing on the thought while idly poking at the laceration; until an idea audibly flickers to life in his head. "Oh, I just gotta refill my blood meter. Or whatever."

"Oooh yeah, blood meter!" Soda perks up, "Of course, see this is why you're the brains, man" Soda smiles, glancing back over to his cool friend, but immediately needing to look away again when the sight of that egregious gash tugs bile back into his throat.

While Soda averts his eyes, Emizels eyes wander back over to the body, and that classic 'Emizel has a bad idea' smile creeps across his face.

"Well, if this guys dead, I'm sure he's not gonna need all that blood.." He grins, kneeling down next to the body again.

The word 'wait' had hardly gotten the chance to crawl from Sodas mouth, before Emizel lifts up the arm of the unfortunate body, pulling the sleeve back, and immediately sinking his teeth into the exposed wrist.

The sound and the sight of blood gushing around Emizels teeth made Soda cringe, his hand impulsively coming up to aide his own wrist. An empathetic phantom pain made his wrist ache, his imagination simulating the feeling of shark teeth cutting into skin, sinking deep into the flesh, and clacking against bone. That was a lot of blood, that was streaming down the arm of this fodder.

A low growl bleeds from Emizel as he adjusts his teeth, cutting into more flesh, opening the wound further, and allowing a pulsing torrent of red to stream down his chin, onto his coat. It was an annoying thing, to clean blood out of clothing. Most of the Demons deemed it easier to just let the stains remain. But the night that Emizels throat was torn open, and liters upon liters were granted freedom from his human form, the unbelievable mess had practically changed half the color of Emizels iconic coat.

That was the first time Soda had ever seen that much blood from one person. And well. This would probably be the second.

The sight was unnerving, but it was impossible to look away. The alley was quiet, save for the distant bustle of a distant city, which made the noisy squish and squelch of teeth gnawing on flesh all the more apparent and nauseating.

Emizel had become a monster for sure, and watching it feed on something was… thrilling, in a way. It reminded Soda of feeding a pet spider, or lizard. A mouse for a snake.

It's a heavy thing to witness, the end of a human life. The fear of death is a primal thing, and Soda was no different from any other living thing. He figured everyone else feared death just as much as he does. Well, maybe except for Emizel, of course.

It made sense. Emizel was such a cocky and noisy kind of guy, but hes always had the power to back it up. Even when he lost, or seemed at his lowest, Soda still saw this sort of fire in him, one that Soda admired.

Of course Emizel would be the one to become something like a vampire. Something that Soda had always figured was just a fantasy creature thing. He wondered; if vampires were real, what else was real? Werewolves? Zombies? Unicorns? Are there real demons? Like from hell? Is hell real? Is he going to hell?

The sudden ttteeeeaaaaarrrr of flesh rips soda from his wandering thoughts. Emizel was tugging his head away from the arm of his kill, his teeth clamped down into the chewed meat, and pulling it apart. Soda had seldom seen so much of the inside of a human arm, and the sight of spilling threads and squirming veins was hardly something he ever wanted to stomach again.

"Oh fuck, dude, hey-" Soda steps forward, raising a hand, but the way Emizel snaps his head back over to him, twisting to an unnatural degree, Soda cant help jolting back.

Reddened teeth glint menacingly in the low light, a threatening growl thundering from its clenched, dripping jaws. Emizels eyes were focused, yet wild, glowing with whatever light they could reflect.

Sodas eyes were wide, and his body was frozen in the thick, electric tension within the air. It was like staring down an angry dog.. Suddenly a light bulb in his head flickers to life. It was kind of like an angry dog, right? One hunched over a meal it didn't want to give up. Memories of old encounters and unfortunate dog bites resurface in Sodas head, and with that experience, and with those lessons learned, he gathers the courage to react.

He shuts his eyes, keeping them closed for a few seconds, as he slowly pulls back his arm, and slowly steps back. It was an eye contact thing, wasn't it? Eye contact makes dogs angry, right? That was how you dealt with an angry dog? As he pulls back, and takes in a breath for composure, he finally dares to peek at the angry vampire before him again.

Its snarling had died down, but its eyes were still trained intently on Soda. After a tense, and agonizingly, slow pause... It blinks back, lowering its head back down to its meal, but keeping its anxious stare on this potential threat.

A relieved sigh falls from soda as the tension finally melts. He didnt realize he was holding in so much of his breath. "O-okay, man.. It's yours, you uh.. Earned it.." Soda mutters, stepping back further, until he was standing in a sufficiently dry enough space to sit down in. Now that he wasn't standing, he was finally taking into mind just how much his hands were shaking.

It's odd. Soda couldn't really describe this feeling thrumming in his chest as something like fear.. Nausea? For sure. Disturbed and rattled? Oh absolutely. This was certainly a sight he would have a hard time scrubbing from his eyelids when he sleeps tonight. But he wasn't scared. The memory of the night that Emizel was sired still coated the inside of his mind like an unwashable film. Even in that moment, when the unnatural teeth from the unnatural maw of an unnatural thing hovered over his throat, he couldn't say with confidence that he was scared.

Emizel really is his best friend in the world. And he knows with his whole heart that Emizel feels the same. He knew and trusted that his best friend would never hurt him. Not too badly at least. He loves Emizel, and would give anything to support him.

Like a mouse to a snake.

This really is an incredible power that his comrade had come across, and Soda especially felt a sort of pride in his friend. He felt it was worth it to help him feed it.

The bile in his throat had made its point, and Soda agreed, that watching someone die, and get torn apart and drained might be too much for him. Despite how much he hated the Fangs, the end of any human life seemed like such a jarring thing. To have such an intense fear finally get confronted. Would he go to hell?

Maybe he couldn't just feed people to his friend. So an alternative could be donated blood, right? Soda wouldn't mind giving up something like blood. His body makes it for free, after all. Maybe some other Demons would agree to give up some blood too. But they shouldn't have to take on such a burden. Soda wouldn't mind being the only one. The only one. The only one.

His hand comes up to rub at his neck, as his imagination conjures up what it might feel like to have teeth sink into his flesh. He's been stabbed before, is that sort of what it would feel like? Would he have to get stitches? He didn't really want to get stitches, so maybe there could be a more effective way to get the blood out of him. And there was so much vital stuff in his neck too. There's' a vein that's safe to cut into somewhere, right? He would have to look that up later.

A STARTLING RINGING;

Splits the moment,

Prompting both Soda and Emizel to jolt in shock,

As the phone in Emizels pocket rings away.

Acting as if nothing abnormal had taken place, Emizel pulls out his phone, and answers it.

"Heyy, Johnny! Yeah we chased em off, I don't think those bastards will be infesting this street again anytime soon. Yeah, ieah we'll be heading back soon. Oh fuck yeah dude, save us some!"

Emizel covers the speaker of his Nokia, turning back to Soda with a big smile on his violently bloodied face. "They got some pizza waiting for us back home, dude!" he whispers out to him.

Soda does his best to crack a smile, and to suppress the look of unease that probably stained his face, as he stares at the literal murder scene that's been splattered about in front of him.

"Oh, yeah, hell yeah man.." He swallows down the bile again. "What kind of uh.. Soda did they get?"

Emizel ponders that, before turning back to the phone to ask Sodas question.

"Sprite and a big pack of that one strawberry mountain dew" Emizel tosses the answer back over to Soda, who gives a nod, and thumbs up.

Mountain dew is so neat, Soda really liked all the wacky flavors those guys come up with. The thought of going home and opening a can of soda was certainly a comfort. After witnessing all this blood and gore and viscera, Soda absolutely needed to get back home and get a nice cold glass of something bright red .

As Sodas mind wanders off to soda, Emizel wraps up the conversation on the phone, before hanging up, and standing up.

The movement had pulled Sodas mind back into the moment, enough for him to timidly voice a concern he's had since the start of this debacle.

"Uh, hey, so.. The body, should we… Uh.." He gestures vaguely to it, and Emizel grants it a nonchalant glance.

"Eh, I can toss it into a dumpster or something, I dunno. I'm sure its fine. I'll handle it."

The vampire boy goes to pick up the corpse, the wound in its mangled arm no longer even dripping with blood, the flesh pale from the absolute absence of red in its veins.

"Go ahead and meet me by that one mailbox, the one with the bullet hole in it." Emizel casually instructs, tossing the drained body over his shoulder. "I'll catch up."

"Uh, yeah, okay.." Soda musters up a nod, and the strength to rise back up to his feet, wincing as that bruise on his side makes itself loudly known again. He still felt anxious, but even despite it all, he knew he could trust Emizel to take care of things. He always does. "Just stay safe man, I'll see you there." Soda assures with a smile, and Emizel matches it, tossing him a wink. And then suddenly- -He's gone! If Soda had blinked he would've missed it, but he was fortunate enough to just barely catch the glimpse of Emizel darting off at an inhuman speed, probably looking for a place to dump the body. Right, he would take care of it. Emizel always makes sure his crew is taken care of. Well... Guess all that's left for Soda is for him to walk back to that meeting spot. He looks around the alley for a moment, taking in the sight of that enormous pool of blood in the middle of the concrete. Or whatever the floor of this alley is made from. He ponders on the present moment a little longer than he meant to, the shock of it all leaving him aimless for just a few, soothing moments of just, decompression. The night is quiet, vast, and cold, but the stresses of just the past 5 hours had left his body radiating with fiery aches and pains, so the chill of the occasional clawing breeze was welcomed. Except for when said breeze agitated the cold water still soaked into his sock. He should step in another puddle on his way back to even it out. The smell of rain still rested heavy in the air, heralding another storm on the horizon. There was that, and then, well, there was also the blood. The stench of it felt far too intense to just ignore it, the metallic miasma making itself maliciously unmistakable. Maybe the impending storm will wash this mess away... He looked forward to putting this unfortunate night behind him. With one last rattled, but deep breath, he stuffs his hands in his pockets, and turns away, strolling back over to the mailbox that Emizel had described.

He couldn't wait to get home and drink some soda with his friends.

[madamescarlette]

don't you love when you're like, okay now I'm going to leave this sorrow in the old year so I don't turn into a crotchety bitter person over it, and then you walk on feeling all refreshed and bright no longer carrying it on your shoulders, but then the sorrow wanders after you like a child who was lost in the supermarket weeping its eyes out and it says to you where did you GO I was lost! I was lost and I missed you!!! and you can only sigh and take it by its hand and say to it very well. here's your seat. I'm sorry I left you behind, I promise it was with the best of intentions, but I want to do my best by you, so let's sit together and try to figure out what you're saying to me.

[iftitah]

she's talking on a call with her parents about how it was her luck and gods will what got her into this college who's gonna tell her of course no one because you know 🤡🤡