#tangled threads and heartstrings

[butterbabyflapjack]

Please, I need more Dark Souls smut 🥺❤️ More characters...

Abyss Watchers

Patches

Pate

Solaire

Oswald

Tarkus

Don't you see the potential?!!!

The potential with dark souls men is endless 🫠I've been wanting to write about tarkus for a loooooooong time, I started a draft with him as well as one with sunshine boy solaire and the pursuer, I really need to finish them💕

also I fucking hate patches but also I love him and wanna slap his bald head and bare ass and I have a wombocombo draft with him and lautrec too😂 too many drafts so little time

[entirelytoooobsessed]

hi.

i offer you: sex worker toji. he lets you fuck him (till he's crying and all used up) for the money but gets addicted to your touch.

this was so much fun to write!!

warnings: amab dom reader, sub toji, marking, slight breeding kink crying, feelings

"ahhh~"

why did he have to look so damn pretty?

chest rising up and down in rapid breaths, pecs covered in marks, soon to be joined by more as your lips gravitated to his nipples-hard and the prettiest shade of pink as your teeth gently sunk into one, fingers pinching at the neglected other

"asshole," his hand weakly batted at the back of your head, useless as his hoarse voice and half-hearted glare. "i told you not to leave anything, i have another client afterrr-"

you speed up entirely too fast, leaving him trying to grasp onto the threads of reality, his words only breaking off into a prolonged whine, pathetic and needy as his fist grapples into your hair like a lifeline. "fuck-don't stop, don't stoooop~"

fuck-why does your dick have to be so big? fucking him open like none of the others do, splitting him apart and leaving a drooling dumb mess-his spent body writhing against yours even when he's used up and has nothing left to give, wringing orgasm after orgasm out of him like it's your fucking day job.

like you're not the one paying an obscene amount of money to blow his back out.

"-nghh~" his body curls around yours, thick legs squeezing around your hips, strong arms clinging around your shoulders, pulling you into him, closer and closer. "shit, shit! i'm so close~ fuck don't stop!"

"you sound like a cheap whore, act like one too." you laugh, under your breath, between pants-fuck why was that so hot?

"f-fuck you-"

you didn't even dignify him with a response, pistoning your hips against his hard enough for the bed to start rocking.

skin slapping against skin, the lewd feeling of cum dripping down his thighs, the idea that tomorrow he wouldn't be able to even walk properly much less take a client in who knows how long since you've started fucking him like some untamed beast.

his head buried into the crook of your neck in exhaustion, panting in rhythm with the beat of your heart against his, in the pulsing of your dick inside of him. you're close. he knows your body too well not to know.

“j-just a little more baby," he couldn't help it, his eyes squeezed shut as you lifted his hips off the bed, gripping into his skin as you used his body like a toy, "...fuck, you feel so good, m gonna cum, gonna fill you up-” a ragged gasp hitched in your throat, moaning as his grip tightened and somehow you began to pick up the pace more-

"ahh, please, please, please-!" he was losing it, he was going to lose it. with tears tracking down his face and his body sore and used and bubbling over the top with pure ecstasy-all he needed now-all he needed now was. “please, fuck i need it, need your cum! wan' it in me so bad” he croaks, babbling and sputtering on his saliva.

your body tensed against his and a sob escaped his throat, long and ruined as you thrust once, twice more with a long groan as liquid warmth exploded inside of him, making him feel so hot and safe and-

you groan, long and deep, lips placed beside his ear as he clutches you to his chest further.

not letting you go.

never letting you go.

not if it was up to him a least.

"stay." you mutter, even if you know it's never worked to keep him before.

his fingers lazily tangle in your hair, glazed over green eyes looking up at the ceiling, unfairly long lashes fluttering as he fights the urge to squeeze them shut.

to fall asleep with you in his arms like this.

you told him you liked his eyes once, pushed his chin up so they'd meet yours as you commented on the shade. it made him blush and he hated it.

hated that you were able to tug on his heartstrings like that-like nothing. like you weren't just paying to use his body and nothing else. you didn't want him. you wanted sex with someone that just so happened to be him.

and it wasn't fair because he-...he...

wanted you without the money and the flashy cars and designer clothes.

and imagined you when he was with his other clients.

and was addicted the way that your fingers were still playing with his body like he belonged to you, slowly thrusting into him again with long deep strokes that left him shuddering. still careful to not overstimulate him as teeth nipped at the shell of his ear.

"stay with me tonight."

his mind was blank besides the sensations of your skin pressed against his, besides one small word that would change everything.

suddenly your nails dug into his hips, lifting and shifting him the way you wanted to-the way he would let you.

maneuvering him to straddle you, failing to hold back a smirk at his whine as your cock slipped out of him.

"c'mon baby," you weren't good for him. you and your cocky smile that made him want to ride you until he was dumb. your hands, holding him to your chest as you slowly dragged him over your dick, tip catching at the rim each time you glided him over your length. "you can leave in the morning~"

author's note: this is so messy😭it's written in different tenses and the grammar and sentence structure is shit but please excuse my 4am horniness for sexworker toji

and hopefully you enjoyed~ yet another short fic that i want to turn into a full one-but one day when i have more time!😭

[magmethius]

for today's @theemperorweek prompts: intimacy & promise (above art is a commission i bought from nopu <3)

A chunk of prose for this one. Promises made during intimacy. (emps/illithid tav, tav's second person pov, implied but not described explicit)

---

"An illithid does not claim territory for fulfillment," the Emperor says, "but for power. The gratification is instant, but unsatisfactory."

You stare up at him, trying to read his deeper thoughts, and he lets you. There's a pit of craving inside of him, matching yours, a needy ache that has yet to be sated. The tendril cradling your cheek moves, sensually draping itself around your shoulders instead.

Yes, he wants... connection. Not conquest.

"My sword. My partner. Moss. My bondmate. My stardust."

The Emperor leans forward, digging his claws into the moss by your sides. The tentacle around your neck slips away and slides down your torso, trailing across the ridges on your chest so - provocatively, it makes your heart skitter. It halts just at your belly. "It would be far more satisfying to express one's devotion by choice... Would it not?"

Oh... Your hands twitch beside his. "Perhaps," you say.

He takes a long, shuddering breath, and presses his head to yours. It's comforting, and magnetic, and the rejuvenation you feel is instantaneous, the open flow of psychic energy between you alleviating mental aches that the healing spring couldn't. Your partner's mind is still fiercely heated, still thrumming with leftover vestiges of hormonal possessiveness. It pushes against your own, silently pleading for one last confirmation, a proclamation made consciously, not instinctually, a willing choice -

It's so desperate, his desire to have you claim him - not just in body, but in soul. It tugs at every single one of your aberrant little heartstrings.

He pulls away. "Will you -" promise -

"I am yours," you say, not letting him finish vocalizing the question. "And you are mine."

"Mine," you repeat, confident, and loud, and lucid. You float up, sink your claws into his shoulders, and thread your tentacles around his. "Mine." You barely remember to breathe as you greedily try to shove out every inch of space between your bodies. He attempts to pull back for air, but you chase him, refusing to part until he understands. "Mine." His hands skate up your spine, claws raking electrifying streaks as they go, and when he reaches your neck he nearly drags you both beneath the water's surface. You have to release one of your hands to cup his face and bring him back up and - "Mineminemine!" You bump your forehead against his over and over, kiss him and kiss him and kiss him, projecting short and sweet kisses and long and passionate kisses and desperate kisses and everything in between -

The Emperor purrs his joy into you, the rumbling of it sending more ecstatic vibrations through your tangled tentacles, and returns each of your projections with one of his own. He clings to your devotion, memorizing how differently those same words feel in his mind when thought proudly and wholeheartedly, when laced with love, not with lust. He already knows of your undying loyalty, you've certainly expressed your love for him often enough to have those words permanently etched into both of your beings, but he'll never, ever tire of hearing just how much you want him.

Being needed is nice, but being wanted is wonderful.

"Yes..." he breathes, when you finally part.

"You are mine, and I am yours."

[brimbrimbrimbrim]

hello brim! Do you have any favorite fics you're reading right now? I'm hurting for reading material and love your style <3

Awww, thank you, dude! And yeah, I got a few I've been indulging in.

Fault Code by redtrouble

Summary: As V struggles to find her footing after the loss of her best friend, her path keeps intersecting with the Maelstrom gangoon who gave her the s-keef that saved her life. And Dum Dum? Well, he thinks that 'ganic girl who bought the Flathead has a pretty preem smile. [Dum Dum & V POV]

Why I'm reading it: I am a sucker for Dum Dum (there's a reason I have like 6 unfinished fics for him I plan on pushing out this year) and few write him better than redtrouble. It's an ongoing fic, which usually I shy away from cause my attention span is shit, but... dear god... the writing is to die for. Highly fucking recommend.

Friendly Sex by HailsJayne

Summary: Your 6 year long unrequited crush on Steve Harrington is starting to wear thin, and after discovering Eddie Munson feels the same way about Chrissy Cunningham you decide to make a pact. After all, what's the harm in a little casual sex between friends?

Why I'm reading it: It's got juuuuuust the right amount of high school romantic drama for me. The sex scenes are hot. The reader is well written. The feelings feel. The slow unraveling of how bad Eddie has it for the reader gets me every time. Think I've read this three times now.

Tangled Threads and Heartstrings by Butterbaby_Flajack @butterbabyflapjack

Summary:  Mostly its just you as a reader galivanting in a lascivious sex parade throughout all the Dark Souls games.

Why I'm reading it: It's just peak. The build up for these various Dark Souls fuckboys is so delightful. The characterization is on point. The smut is delicious, especially the multipart stories featuring Creighton the Wanderer (that psychopath is amazingly well-written). I just love it. Additionally, all their offerings are of high quality.

Ten Minutes by emoweebo (Outlast Trials - Pusher/F!Reader)

Bind Down by eternalbrook (ASOIAF - SanSan)

Wall, I'll be F*cked by fic_appointment (Mandalorian - Din/F!Reader)

Glimmer in the Void by Carajubu (Original - Alien/F!Reader) @carajubu

[shadowdaddies]

Balter

Balter (v): to dance artlessly, without particular grace or skill but usually with enjoyment

for @nestaarcheronweek day three: "Self-care." I would like to see Nesta find the joy she does in dancing without the judgment and need for perfection she faced as a child, and I think that that could be a form of self-care for her.

Pushing down on the brass handle of the entry door, Nesta pressed forward over the threshold and into the building. Feyre had mentioned an empty dance studio near her art class on the Rainbow, and Nesta had finally worked up the courage to go inside.

The dim hallways echoed with her footsteps, that and her quiet breathing the only sounds in the building. A door was cracked open to her left, light pouring into the hall from what she could see was the studio.

Nerves wracked through her, shaking the anxiety out of her hands before gaining the courage to step into a room so similar to those her grandmother had forced her to spend hours in as a child. 

But when she stepped into the space, there was a warm to the light, and a comfort she felt at being the only person in there. There were no strict teachers, no mothers or grandmothers to critique her form. It was only Nesta, and she couldn’t help the pleasured smile that reflected back at her through the mirrored wall.

Setting her bag down in the corner, Nesta settled in for warm up stretches, breathing deep to let her muscles fully relax as she pushed and pulled them. She was surprised at how peaceful it was in here, a place to herself.

Standing, Nesta moved to her bag and retrieved the symphonia Cassian had gifted her, eyes glittering at the sight of the thoughtful gift. Setting it down in front of the mirror, she tapped the orb and basked in the melody that rang through the space.

She let her body flow with the music as she began to dance. Occasionally trying movements and variations from her childhood dance lessons, Nesta smiled both when she recalled the movements perfectly and when she made a “mistake.” 

There was no one here to tell her how to do things, how her shoulders were hunched or her legs weren’t turned out. It was a new type of freedom she hadn’t experienced yet, and it unleashed a new type of joy.

Twirling as many times as she could, spilling her soul into each motion with precision and error, accuracy and disregard, Nesta bloomed in the freedom of movement. She expressed herself, lost and found herself in the music until she was dripping in sweat. 

Wiping her forehead, Nesta heard a knock at the door and looked up to see Cassian’s proud smile. The Illyrian leaned against the frame, admiring his mate for a long moment before he spoke.

“Feyre mentioned that you might be here. I thought we could go for dinner in the town tonight?”

Nesta’s smile only grew, a release she’d unlocked within herself pouring into the world and spreading like bright wildfire. “I would love to,” she replied, running to press a kiss to Cassian’s lips. “Let me get cleaned up here.”

As Nesta moved to collect the symphonia, a tune started playing which tugged on her heartstrings - the song she and Cassian had first danced to at the Court of Nightmares, and again at their mating ceremony.

She looked to the doorway in search of her mate, but found it empty. Instead, Cassian stood behind her in the center of the room with a knowing smile, one arm politely tucked behind his back as the other remained held out for her to accept.

“May I have this dance?” he whispered, breathless at the sight of Nesta’s gaze on him, those silver flames in her eyes every bit as powerful as when they danced to this song the first time.

Her gentle hand wrapped around his, the other resting on his shoulder as they danced - not how they did at the Court of Nightmares, or even at their mating ceremony. They danced like they were the only two people in the world - two souls recklessly twining together like thread of fabric, without care if they might tangle, for they’d be together forever nonetheless.

The song ended, but they danced in the quiet for some time after that before Nesta’s stomach growled. A soft chuckle escaped Cassian’s lips, the general looking down at his mate to admire her features.

“Let’s get you some dinner,” he whispered, and she nodded, immoderately content in that moment. “I watched you for a moment. You seemed very happy to go back to dance,” Cassian noted.

Nesta nodded, tossing her bag over her shoulder before reaching for Cassian’s hand. “I was. I think it’s a nice form of self care, almost therapeutic for me. I think I’ll keep doing it.”

[hugheswritetr]

Tangled

MASTERLIST

Heartbeat | Jack Hughes

- prologue part 3

Author’s note: next chapter will be the last from Summer 2015, and then we are jumping to 15 year old Thalia and 17 year old Jack;)

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

August, the month of bittersweet feelings that danced in Thalia's mind. It marked the final chapter of summer, before her parents' usual working schedule resumed its course. They always tried to fit as many vacations making it remarkable month, but the thought of returning to the usual schedule always resided in the back of her mind.

The air conditioning hummed softly as the radiant warmth of summer enveloped the living room. The Hughes and Mariott children found solace in the cool oasis, scattered around, their laughter and playful banter filling the air. The summer season had a way of drawing them closer, like a magnetic force pulling them into the embrace of shared experiences and cherished moments.

Quinn and Mattheo sat together, their eyes gleaming with anticipation. Their conversation revolved around their upcoming hockey schedule, a topic that ignited a fiery passion within them.

With each word spoken, their voices grew animated, mirroring the intensity of their emotions. They eagerly discussed the games, practices, and tournaments that lay ahead, their minds already envisioning the thrill of the ice beneath their skates and the roar of the crowd. The prospect of competing against formidable opponents and showcasing their skills filled them with a sense of purpose and determination.

As they delved deeper into their conversation, the brothers shared their strategies and aspirations, their dreams of scoring the winning goal or making a game-changing save. They spoke of the camaraderie forged on the ice, the unspoken bond that exists among teammates who battle side by side, united by a common goal. The anticipation radiated from them, their enthusiasm infectious, as they eagerly awaited the challenges and triumphs that awaited them in the upcoming hockey season.

Luke, Thalia, and Jack gathered around the coffee table, engrossed in a board game. Ever since Luke’s and Thalia’s memorable bike ride together, they had become inseparable, forming a bond that seemed unbreakable. Their shared adventure had forged a friendship that was as strong as steel.

As they played, their competitive spirits ignited, fueling their determination to emerge victorious. Luke and Thalia, now attached at the hip, teamed up against Jack, who couldn't help but voice his complaints. Undeterred by Jack's antics, Luke and Thalia skillfully strategized, their minds working in perfect harmony as they were making the winning moves

With each roll of the dice and every turn of the game pieces, Luke and Thalia seemed to have an uncanny ability to anticipate each other's moves, almost as if they were connected by an invisible thread. Their teamwork was impeccable, their communication seamless, and it was evident that they had found their rhythm as a formidable team.

As the game progressed, Luke and Thalia's confidence soared. They were acing the game, leaving Jack (always the winner) suprised, his athlethe mindset making him antsy.

Jack's whines echoed through the room with each well-executed move made by Luke and Thalia. Luke, visibly annoyed by Jack's complaints, couldn't help but roll his eyes in exasperation. Thalia, had developed a soft spot for Jack. There was something about his playful nature that tugged at her heartstrings, even though she tried to hide her childlike crush.

As the game progressed, Thalia found herself stealing glances at Jack, her cheeks turning a shade of red whenever their eyes met. It was as if a secret connection had formed between them, filled with innocent admiration and the fluttering of butterflies in her stomach.

Mattheo couldn't help but feel a sense of relief as he noticed the color returning to his sister's face. It had been a challenging time for their family, but seeing her smiling brought him a glimmer of hope.

As they chatted, Mattheo couldn't shake the feeling of dread that loomed over him. The unavoidable reality of the upcoming drive to the airport next week weighed heavily on his heart. He knew that saying goodbye to his sister would be incredibly difficult, as they shared a bond that went beyond mere siblinghood.

The thought of being separated from his sister, made Mattheo realize just how much he would miss her. They had always been there for each other, supporting one another through the highs and lows of life. The idea of not having her by his side was both daunting and heartbreaking.

Mattheo cherished the moments they spent together, whether it was engaging in deep conversations or simply sharing laughter over inside jokes. He knew that their bond was special, and the thought of being apart made him appreciate their time together even more.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

The sun began its descent, casting a warm and golden hue over the surroundings, the time for the weekly dinner had arrived. The dining room was adorned with a table set for two families, eagerly awaiting the arrival of Ellen and Jim. Their presence added an extra layer of joy to the already lively atmosphere.

Dimmed lighting of the light made the feeling more homey. The families effortlessly engaged in conversations, sharing anecdotes from their daily lives, discussing current events, and reminiscing about cherished memories. The dining room became a sanctuary of comfort and connection, where the bonds of friendship and family grew stronger with each passing moment.

Amidst the laughter and lively banter, the clinking of glasses echoed throughout the room, as toasts were made to celebrate the joys of life and the blessings of friendship. The atmosphere was one of pure bliss, where time seemed to stand still, allowing everyone to savor the precious moments spent together.

As the evening drew to a close, the room was filled with contentment and gratitude. The dinner had not only nourished their bodies but also their souls, leaving them with a sense of fulfillment and happiness. The memories created during this shared meal would forever be cherished, serving as a reminder of the power of love, laughter, and genuine connections. The clock approached midnight, signaling the end of a wonderful evening, the Hughes family began to get ready for their leave.

However, just as they reached the entrance of the home, their footsteps were halted by the enthusiastic pleas of Thalia, who was determined to extend the joyous atmosphere of the evening. With a sparkle in her eyes and a hopeful smile on her face, she implored Jim and Ellen for a movie night with Jack, Luke and Quinn, as if to prolong the magic of the shared moments they had experienced.

Caught in the irresistible charm of Thalia's request, the parents couldn't help but be swayed by her infectious enthusiasm.

With the couch expanded to accommodate all the children, the stage was set for an epic movie night. The enticing aroma of freshly prepared snacks filled the air. Thalia, ever the princess in her own right, confidently declared her favorite movie choice: "Tangled."

Now, as you can imagine, the boys couldn't help but voice their playful complaints. They tried to persuade Thalia to consider a different movie, perhaps something with more action or adventure. But Thalia stood her ground, unwavering in her decision. After all, she had her heart set on the magical tale of Rapunzel and her incredible journey.

The room grew quiet as the movie began, and the screen came alive with vibrant colors and captivating animation. The boys, despite their initial reservations, found themselves quickly drawn into the story, unable to resist the charm and magic that unfolded before their eyes.

Thalia, on the other hand, sat with a satisfied grin, knowing that her choice had captivated everyone's attention. She giggled with delight as Rapunzel's long golden hair cascaded down the tower, and she sang along to every catchy tune that filled the room. The boys couldn't help but be swept up in her infectious enthusiasm.

Snacks were enjoyed in between moments of suspense and excitement, adding an extra layer of indulgence to the movie night. The boys reached for handfuls of popcorn, their fingers coated in buttery goodness, while Thalia savored her favorite candies, savoring each sweet bite.

As the movie came to its heartwarming conclusion, the children found themselves gradually succumbing to the cozy atmosphere and the gentle lull of the film. One by one, their eyelids grew heavy, and their heads began to nod in sleepy contentment.

Thalia, still basking in the magic of "Tangled," couldn't help but smile as she looked around the room. The boys who had initially protested her movie choice now lay sprawled across the couch, their soft snores harmonizing with the movie's closing credits, she soon joined them too in the peaceful sleep.

[clxckwork-sun-n-moon]

tagged by @rhodophoria, thank you~!

Rules: In a new post, list the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

full disclosure I have no organising system so I'm going around hunting things down, fjkhkdfk. also I'm only sticking to fics and not drawings because that's even more of a mess

So Cries the Wolf - DCA, fully planned chapters, posting (AO3)

Blood for Blood - UTMV, mostly planned chapters, posting (AO3)

Rotten Magic - Trollhunters, series of drabbles, posting (Tumblr)

Out of Time - Trollhunters/Rotten Magic-adjacent one-shot fic, in-progress

Inksekai - UTMV, currently in planning stage, will be chaptered

Threads - DCA (OC-focused), fully planned one-shot fic, in-progress

Tangled Strings - DCA, mostly planned chapters, posting (AO3)

[DREAM] - UTMV, one-shot fic, literally came into existence today

Tagging (no pressure): @scarredlove, @naffeclipse, @muzzlemouths, @pluck-heartstrings, @earthbound-celestials @justfangirlstuffs

[maevesque]

To the One Who Haunts My Every Thought,

If fate is a thread, then mine has always been dark—tethered to something just beyond reach, pulling me forward, keeping me from unraveling completely. I have felt it for as long as I can remember, an invisible tether wrapped around my ribs, a quiet pulse beneath my skin.

And now, I know where it leads. To your gold.

Fate is cruel. Or kind. I have not yet decided. Perhaps it is both, tangled like the red thread they say binds us—unseen, unbroken, no matter how far we stray.

I have watched you move through this world, unknowing of the way you leave traces of yourself in places you’ve long since left. Your laughter lingers in the air like a song half-remembered, your touch imprinted on the space between moments. You exist in the in-between, in the places people forget to look, and yet—I see you.

I always have.

There is a gentleness in the way I think of you, in the way I speak your name (even if only in my head). Some things are meant to be known but not spoken, carried but not weighed down. And though I am bound to you by something unseen, I do not wish to pull too tightly, to risk disturbing your peace.

You may never read this. You may never know how often my thoughts drift to you, how often I trace the outline of my own fate and wonder if you feel it too. And if you do—if the same golden string coils around your heart, whispering my name in the quiet—then perhaps, without needing to say a word, you already understand.

No matter where you go, I will find you. And if I must love you in silence, from the edges of your world rather than the center, then let that be enough.

And you, my love, have always been the one thing I could never let go.

Yours, and only yours.

Sat in Sylus’s study at the base, Maeve brushed the pad of her fingers along the waxed-sealed envelope, a smile permanent on her face with tender silvery eyes gazing down at the item in hand. 

She had received this special delivery by mail; a classic, and she loved it. Handwritten letters stopped being so common for many years, so the thought of receiving one from Sylus never crossed her mind, and so the day she received one, she couldn’t help the quick beating of her heart and for a moment or two, she didn’t want to open it. 

But to break the seal and read a letter written by her beloved was near impossible to stop herself from doing so. But she was careful to preserve the waxed seal, carefully ensuring that it remains intact as much as possible and once successfully doing so, she opened the letter and began reading.

There had always been something about the way Sylus carried himself and even through the letterings inked on these pages, the intricate strokes and lines from his handwriting alone showed how carefully thought out each word was, even if they come to him so naturally. The way he carried himself transcribed to the way he carried his words in this letter. 

Maeve found herself delving into the depths of the words, how they tugged on her heartstrings and kept her grounded, but at the same time, floating. She flipped around the pages after reading lines over and over again, as if committing each gentle stroke of the words weaved into poetic lines to the deep crevices of her mind.

If she could, she would fold this piece of paper and stash it in her ribcage, next to her heart; the heart that beats for him and only him, the heart that seeks him in the darkness and in the light. She was his as much as he was hers. Fate is cruel or kind, she hasn’t decided this either, but one thing she knew for certain.

She would transverse against fate and time, no matter what tragedy loomed over their story, awaiting for the day to strike, she knew well enough that nothing would ever stop her from intertwining her soul with his, tangled to the point they are both trapped and never to escape from one another.

She picked up her phone from the table and composed a quick message to Sylus. Would he understand it? She didn't have any doubts, but she did enjoy sending such messages, wondering how he'll interpret them.

i want to know how often your thoughts drift to me.

And know that... for you, I will go through everything and anything.

Also, it arrived, but I'm at the base.

📫 — Anonymous Love Letters

[butterbabyflapjack]

I read your elden ring/dark souls fics and i absolutely love them(the crucible knight fic got me squealing yo)! But im sitting here wondering if youve ever written the reader to talk casually like us (these are incorrect quotes as examples hope u dont mind),

"Of course its perfectly safe... for me at least!." "Hey bestie!" "I came out here to have a good time and I'm honestly feeling so attacked right now."

"Careful? CAREFUL?! I'LL CAREFULLY WRAP MY HANDS AROUND YOUR DAMN NECK—" "Clownery. Tomfoolery. Absolute fuckery, I am going to revoke your life privileges." "What doesn't kill me better start running, because now I'm fucking pissed."

"It's not like I try to blow things up, exactly. It just sort of happens. You've got to admit though, fire is fascinating."

And the eldenring/darksouls characters acting a bit confused by readers wording cuz theyve never heard anybody talk like that. Reader sounds unhinged and casual but still optimistic about their adventures.

Just a little suggestion since i wanna see one of your soulsborne fics including reader acting like this at least once. Thought it would be funny to see reader being the only one talking this way hehe tq for reading me!

This'd be pretty funny, I might have to try it 🤭 I think some of my older tangled threads and heartstrings entries have more modern vernacular but I've never swung fully into it 🤔💕💕

[dhr-ao3]

Tangled Heartstrings

Tangled Heartstrings https://ift.tt/9tGP6u3 by SerendipitousEncounters In the wake of a secret whirlwind romance, Hermione Granger finds herself tangled in the threads of the emotional fallout following her breakup with Draco Malfoy. Words: 4096, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/M Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Ron Weasley, Astoria Greengrass Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy Additional Tags: pure angst, Hermione has a lot of feelings, Heartbreak, HEA if You Squint, Draco is duty-bound, One-Shot via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/m87gE3Q September 14, 2024 at 06:59AM

[republicsecurity]

As the remembrance ceremony unfolded, I found myself standing amidst a sea of my comrades, their stoic faces etched with solemnity. A sense of naive anticipation coursed through me, akin to a child stepping into a realm of shadows and wonder.

And then it began. A subtle shift, almost imperceptible.

Faces flickered across my display – faces of those who had journeyed this path before me, etching their essence onto the canvas of my thoughts. Tears fell, as if the weight of their sacrifice was mine to bear. My fingers itched to wipe them away, yet the confines of the helmet held me in a state of suspended animation.

The images danced before my eyes – moments I hadn't even realized were significant. Faces, places, laughter, pain. I felt like I was watching someone else's life, but it was my life. It was personal, and I didn't quite know how to deal with it.

As my heart thumped in sync with the symphony of emotion, I saw camaraderie and laughter, friendships forged in the crucible of shared service. Each laugh resonated within me, as if I too had been a part of those shared moments. I could almost feel the warmth of their embraces, their reassuring pats on the back, their shared glances laden with unspoken understanding.

Tears welled, threatening to breach the surface. The vividness of the images, the heartfelt words whispered by AI, the vivid red of paramedic uniforms and the gleam of polished boots – all tangled and knotted in a web of feelings that transcended the confines of mere cognition.

It was as if the AI had woven a tapestry of my own experiences, both trivial and profound.

And then, a torrent of tears – not my own – streamed down cheeks that were both mine and not. Aching empathy surged through me, as if I bore witness to a lifetime of shared sorrows. The visor's display seemed to warp my perceptions, blurring the boundaries between self and others, between here and there.

Tears welled in my eyes, but I couldn't discern whether they were a product of my own emotions or a calculated response to the narrative's design.

I was lost in this overwhelming experience, a concoction of memory and AI wizardry. It felt like the world had shrunk to just me and those images – a carefully curated journey through my own life.

Yet, as the display morphed once again, I was thrust into moments of solitude and introspection. A lone figure, facing the horizon, as the sun's dying rays bathed everything in a melancholic glow. An ache clawed at my chest, a yearning for something I could not quite grasp. Faces flashed by, like the fragments of a shattered mirror, reflecting both strength and vulnerability.

Projected in stunning detail, scenes danced before me – faces etched with pain and pride, hands meticulously placing wreaths of remembrance. Each sequence evoked a pang, a surge of something I couldn't put into words, a poignant thread of empathy that tugged at my heartstrings. This wasn't just a narrative; it was my narrative – my life, my potential losses, my unspoken fears.

But as the last scene flickered away, the spell was broken. The crowd shifted, the illusion wavered, and I was left grappling with an intensity of emotion I wasn't prepared for. I was still a conscript, still helpless in the grand scheme of things, yet now I was bound by threads of history and shared experience that ran deeper than I could fathom.

My visor shifted, and suddenly I was seeing through someone else's eyes. I watched as the gloved hand reached out, fingers wrapping around the stem of the wreath. The texture of the green leaves and the delicate petals brushed against my fingertips, a tactile sensation that I could almost feel.

As the gauntlet-clad hand lowered the wreath, I felt a strange connection to this paramedic, as if our souls were briefly intertwined. I shared in their reverence, their commitment to honoring those who had come before us.

And then, with a final, deliberate movement, the wreath was placed. I could almost feel the ground beneath me as it made contact with the earth, a connection between the living and the departed. It was a moment of profound significance, a reminder of the sacrifices made and the legacy we carried on.

And as the visor returned to my own perspective, I was left with a lingering sense of awe. I had glimpsed into the heart of a paramedic's duty, experienced it through their eyes, even if only for a moment. The ceremony held a deeper meaning now, a personal connection that transcended the uniform and the armor.

I stood there, helmet still on, visor now dark once more.

As the ceremony concluded, the command to retract the visors echoed through the air. The world around me came back into focus, and I could see the faces of my fellow paramedics once again. There was a collective exhale, a shared release of the emotions that had built up during the ceremony.

I hesitated for a moment, taking in the solemn atmosphere that still lingered around us. Then, I made my way towards a more experienced conscript, someone who had been through this before.

"Hey," I began tentatively, my voice a little uncertain. "That was… intense."

He turned towards me, offering a small, understanding smile. "Yeah, it can be the first time. Takes a while to get used to."

I nodded, relieved that he didn't dismiss my feelings. "I mean, I've seen ceremonies before, but this was different. Seeing it from their perspective… it was like I was really there."

He chuckled softly, his gaze thoughtful. "Yeah, that's the point. They want us to feel it, to understand the weight of what we're part of."

I was quiet for a moment, absorbing his words. "I guess that's why we're here, right? To carry on their legacy."

[inundatae]

" I have a shorter life span now... So would you be fine once I'm gone? "

𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐧𝐝. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐝. As the sovereign that presides over life itself, over the waters that bear with it creation and destruction both he has always understood this. Water is the beginning and so too much all return to its source. Even he himself must meet his end at some point and such a prospect comes to him with no fear or trepidation. It simply is. His predecessors have met their ends as well. He remembers little of it. Not their births, not their deaths. He hardly recalls his own beginning, but there will be no querulous trembling with the tolling of his own end.

Knowing all this. Knowing the natural order of this world that not even he himself can truly alter…

Why does such a question bring a storm that rips away all defenses. Strips him to his very raw and bleeding core. Caught in the blistering winds that lash at his very being, he remains still as stone. Eroded through and through yet the refusal to move is as much his feeble attempt to gain some semblance of control of his own emotions. The threads of his heart rips apart and he clings desperately to them, tangling it all into his a mass within himself, pulling his heartstrings back within.

For over five centuries he’s lived through this world and dwelled amongst these frail and fragile creatures. He has learned of them. Loathed and loved them all. He has watched them grow and watched them wither away. Returned once more from whence they came. Countless numbers of lives and names, each one etched upon the walls of his heart. Vautrin. Carole. Eventually will there be more to join their number.

And some day far too soon, will she be amongst them as well. One day will he have to carve Furina within himself as well.

Five hundred years and she’d been the one constant across them. He looks to her and imagines a world without her smile, without the brilliance of her spirit. What a terrible and dismal existence will it be. “No.” He does not lie. There is no point to lying. There is nothing that can be done for it. Furina will die. And he will continue on. He will survive her as he has with so many others. “I will not be fine.”

[ao3feed-drastoria]

Tangled Heartstrings

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/Dcepk29 by SerendipitousEncounters In the wake of a secret whirlwind romance, Hermione Granger finds herself tangled in the threads of the emotional fallout following her breakup with Draco Malfoy. Words: 4096, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/M Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Ron Weasley, Astoria Greengrass Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy Additional Tags: pure angst, Hermione has a lot of feelings, Heartbreak, HEA if You Squint, Draco is duty-bound, One-Shot read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/Dcepk29

[musicarenagh]

Jack Bailey's 'Open Heart Surgery': Stitching Souls with Sound Jack Bailey's "Open Heart Surgery" EP feels like peering into a kaleidoscope with both eyes wide open. Amidst the cluttered skyline of indie-pop, Jack crafts his melody-tales from a room scented with resilience and perseverance. His partially sighted gaze transforms not into limitation but a vibrant canvas on which he mixes his audial colors—deepest mauves of melancholy interplay harmoniously with hopeful cerulean streaks. https://open.spotify.com/album/1iMw1hoeWubwu2k7y6tT1I Each track is an auditory finger painting; smears of mental health motifs tangled delicately with strings of personal relationships, all underpinned by the thrusting urgency of introspection. "Open Heart Surgery," turns out it’s less about breaking ribs medically and more about stitching souls musically—with each strum oozing viscerality that doesn't just tug at heartstrings but seems to pluck them clean off! [caption id="attachment_56341" align="alignnone" width="1440"] Jack Bailey's 'Open Heart Surgery': Stitching Souls with Sound[/caption] Inheriting musical sensibilities perhaps as one would spectacles from an elder, Bailey echoes familial legacies threading through his soundscapes. Yet this journey is distinctly sprinkled with shadows and light unique to his roadmap—the crunch of gravel underfoot in unseen paths, illuminates unchartered territories where synth meets sentiment, creating fireworks that burst across the bedroom ceiling. Briefly put: if existentialism had a soundtrack designed for echo chambers called hearts – it would be diagnosed as Jack Bailey's "Open Heart Surgery". A check-up you didn’t realize your soul needed. Follow Jack Bailey on Website, YouTube, Instagram and TikTok.

[princessmacedon]

A breath of laughter slips when Bernadetta startles, its every thread one of fondness. It at once both makes sense and doesn't, the way she reaches without hesitation to hold the pieces together only to doubt herself in the end; the violets that look up at the sky never realize how beautiful they make this earth.

How precious this warmth. Maria answers by folding her hands over Bernie's and pulling them closer, eyes trailing over the lines of their knuckles like sentences in a storybook. She opens her mouth; her eyes well instead, and when she speaks, there is a subtle frailty in her voice she had left behind in Deil.

"...Yeah."

She tries to save the mourning for when she is alone, when all her great fortunes are not there to worry for her in their many kindnesses. But mourning, morning -- it rises all the same. It tangles in her heartstrings, so intertwined with everything she has held close to her heart that she is sure her veins are tied in knots. But isn't that one of the beautiful things about Bernie? She helps you hold the pieces together.

"I miss him," the lonely girl says simply; she does not balk at sharing this, for faith is an aspect of love, and both of these she has for her. "Our other brother who got nervous about dancing. The knight who liked apple tarts. The merchant who fell from the tree. I miss Meaghan." Even Kadrian, too. Did he ever remember the yellow flowers?

When she looks up again, it is at something distant: a modest garden, a sprawling estate, or perhaps the ghost of an island with vivid flowers in the middle of the sea. But it was real to her back then; it is real to her right now.

"He was the last time I had a brother and a home at the same time."

The odd thing about saying it aloud is that it still hurts, but it begins to come undone, the space they once occupied in her chest now free for breathing. Rose-colored eyes peek at Bernadetta once more, and despite what she has just said -- or perhaps because of it -- a fond smile breaks through like spring.

"You have the same pretty eyes, you know. You and Sveinn." Eyes squeeze narrow in an adoring giggle. "You get flustered the same way. Hee hee... he's just got a stern work face, but I bet you're better at cooking. He burned pancakes for us when I met him!" Though Bernie has already read all this, it overflows, spilling without surcease. "You're both so sincere, and so brave in different ways. And when you love people, you're the bravest. You're incredible."

Rocking onto her tiptoes, Maria leans forward, ever-so-lightly touching her forehead to Bernie's.

"Hee hee... I think Bernadetta von Varley is great."

What is meant by miracle?

#TOAEPIPHANY2025 || Bernadetta & Maria

[justblades]

⌕ QUARTET'S TUNES, 18+

⟢ DAY 4 OF SPECIAL 2K EVENT — your boyfriend suffers from erectile dysfunction . . . he thinks of a solution to treat it, by having you preyed on by his two olden friends

⟢ CHARACTERS : blade, dan heng & jing yuan x afab!reader WC : 1.8k

⟢ WARNINGS : (EX)PLICIT, MDNI. 4some, manhandling, degrading, multiple penetration, aphrodisiacs, spitting, dacryphilia, filming, cuckolding.

utopia - a place you never thought you'd attain from your mere hands alone whenever feelings of loneliness creep up to your soul, pulling you back to square one with weight heavy in one foot. not until you crossed paths with a certain individual who appeared too cold than he may seem, his aura exudes of a gelid ice and a chilly gust of wind all at the same.

threads of fate are adamantine, each strand, each fiber shows a dedicated ending for every single being. although not halfway done, you've come to learn dan heng's sharp corners and the varying slopes of his soul. how he likes for things to be done, how he prefers to bask in solitude when those moments come. that he is not indeed cold like how he is usually perceived. as a way to delve deeper in the ocean of his depths, your vulnerable self mooring at dan heng's byline with your name written on it - it felt as if it was meant to be.

amidst the countless times he buried his seed deep into your walls, in spite of the scratch marks besmirching his pale, supple skin, there came a time he was unable to do it with you anymore. of course, sex isn't everything but it sends a pang of pain for dan heng more as he hungers for your body day by day; wanting to relive those lustful moments again, feeling each others' sweat mix with juices of arousal coating your thighs and dan heng's fingers.

and finally, he reached his limit. perhaps all he needed is some good old pushing buttons for his erection to switch back on. he contacts two olden friends, at this point, one was a mortal enemy and the other an archaic comrade. it was an eccentric situation that no one has ever experienced before. having your lover banged by two acquaintances right before your naked eyes is not an idea someone sane is capable of thinking of. perhaps it's the hunger burning dan heng's patience and blind hope that made him resort to these methods. as much as he longed, the twice you yearned.

a red tie slithers against your wrists, pinned above your head with a final twist to finish the binding. a makeshift of kinky shackles, a tantalizing sight to grace your partner's vision as two tall men stood before your restrained stature. the silver haired at your left and the indigo head at your right. they were polar opposites for a boastful smile plays on jing yuan's lips while the former appeared to have a scornful look imprinted on his.

nonetheless, jing yuan starts it with a white circular pill nestled on his wet tongue, stuck out just enough for you to see. "let's treat your lover's dysfunction then." he says as his sultry lips crash onto yours with fervor, eyes shut, fingertips trailing from your chin on the way to the back of your head, lolling you closer to him than before.

your tongues tangle in sync, taking turns as you begin to feel more of his liquids pour onto your mouth like a small cup, overflowing, escaping past your margins that reached to a point whereas you're drooling. a soft mewl comes undone, satisfying the general. the pill that slipped out of your mind travels way down to your system, its ingredients quickly pool inside your body waiting for its effects to manifest.

slightly glancing at the other male all the while you were being smothered by open mouthed kisses, "i'll take everything away from you." the remark stirs confusion, he sneers and proceeds to suckle on your neck's sweet spot. your body jolts at the unfamiliar sensation of an unknown's lips adorn your complexion, "i'll make you mine." his voice softens and it just all made sense.

dan heng feels his heartstrings rupture, jealousy seethes even though he may not show it. his brows lightly knit and focus at the matter in hand, he needs this - so he can finally revel in the delights of your body. jing yuan finally withdraws from your lips, sharing a gaze of lust and excitement with you. he only pauses for a moment and proceeds to scoot closer to your body, getting behind you as his arm lock around your neck, his lower clothing becoming tighter and more painful to bear.

this position felt rather embarrassing; you're exposed in front of your lover. the cherry on top of it was blade unbuckling his tan and jade green belt, slacks of grey shades quickly fall down to his feet - followed suit by another act of stripping, this time, it was you being undressed by him. he rips all of your clothes open, veins popping as he exerts minimalist strength: your body jerks in exchange as you get to feel his hot breath caress the plane of your chest.

jing yuan swiftly removes his too, cock springing free now at its full glory judging from how it twitches against your lower back, aching for some friction. struggling to keep sight of the two males preparing themselves to bathe in ecstasy with you, your body suddenly falls lethargic and the atmosphere's temperature felt rather parching.

"dan heng— make sure you watch all of this." jing yuan comments and lubricates your slit with a concoction of his streaming beads of arousal mixed with yours. muddy white sopping out of your folds, you were more than turned on, brought about by the drug you ingested earlier. you blink repetitiously once you start to feel something hard protrude your hole, it pulsates with desire and felt feverishly hot.

you gasp weakly, an opportunity for the other male to slip his dick in your mouth abruptly. "don't forget about me." he bucks his pelvis forward, forcing you to bob your head up and down; not giving you enough time to adjust and grow accustomed to his immense size. blade's scowl slowly ceases, eyes fixated how you react to being gagged by his cock.

jing yuan can feel a little competitive at times, a part of his playful nature. he thrusts into your cunt with ease thankful to the lube that most of your pussy provided, your velvet walls clamping around his girth. sloppy noises, mewls and grunts all bounce off the four walls of your own home. dan heng remains fixed on his place, his heart threatens to beat faster and faster, hearing your satisfied moans merited from anything other than his dick undoubtedly vexes him deep down.

it wasn't even enough of a foreplay earlier and it's just the beginning - yet your mind already starts to feel point blank, unable to grasp coherence and rationality the more you are stimulated by both the males simultaneously. unable to protest as blade's cock fills your mouth, prohibited to make any of the male stop as you were bound by the crimson string tied on your wrists.

jing yuan's guttural moans chime into your ears, bucking his hips in an animalistic speed while you got noticeably louder in mewls and squirms under the both of their touches. "i-i-" muffled by the constant bounce of blade's tip at the back of your throat, tears start to well up in your eyes, the depths reflecting the navy haired's face of satisfaction seeing you cry from how big he was.

"i was never aware you had a whore like this, dan heng. you're quite a lucky man, getting to see this any day you'd like." the male snidely remarks, sarcastically wiping your tears away with his bandaged hand. "weep for me more." he adds, a rivulet of his gathered spit drop down to your lips.

dan heng feels his trousers tighten all of a sudden. he glimpses down, seeing something indeed out of the ordinary. he was growing an erection, each rush of his blood to the flushed tip of his cock - he could feel everything course in his system. his breathing deepens, gunmetal eyes widened.

the silver haired doesn't let himself be outshined by his olden friend, "no can do. you'll sing for me more." he says and slows down his pace, only to give you long deep strokes of his as your walls continue to coil around him. it was a teasing act, but the thirst for more immediately gets quenched when he thrusts into you deeper than before, his balls lightly slap against the plush of your ass. you throw your head back, unknowingly seeking solace in jing yuan's broad shoulders while your mouth was still full of blade's girth.

you try to catch your breath with heavy pants, feeling sticky in every nook and cranny of your body. they were both being intense: more than what you could handle. dan heng never made you feel these sensations before, unsure if it's a good thing or not. whilst blade finally pulls his cock out— he clicks his tongue in annoyance and tangles his fingers on your hair, crouching down to your level. he looks you in the eyes piercing through your torpid ones, threatening to fall into a slumber anytime. suddenly, a hand stops him from handling you harshly any further, he looks up to see it was no other than a despised enemy. "you're finally back in action." a crease between dan heng's brows form, teeth gritting from how rough blade was towards you. well, what else did he expect? if you secretly liked it, then the male suppose there's nothing wrong happening.

"simmer down." blade comments as he finally removes the ties on your wrists, giving your arms leeway to rest at last. but it doesn't prolong as his calloused, veiny hands, guide your right hand to wrap around dan heng's throbbing cock while the free one was coiled around blade's. unable to register anything now, your body weight doubles down, feeling heavier than ever. something, however is amiss. pure bliss snakes up to your abdomen, feeling more desirous than ever— as it unfolds, your hands pump the two dicks on their own, granting you groans bubbling from both's mouths.

you were uncertain if this is what an aphrodisiac does to a person's consciousness. but then, with bleary vision, you make out the familiar object once again. this time, it was from blade's slick tongue twirling in your wet cavern, he was rough and deep, not leaving any corners unchecked with his tongue's tip.

again, it descends to your system, dissolving into glitters of substance that fuels your libido levels - willingly resuming to stroke two dicks while another one continuously ravage your walls, the general feeling himself catch the bliss of release anytime soon. "it's good to see you've finally recovered dan heng . . . but you have to know we won't be at your disposal the next time this happens and this is where my suggestion comes in."

the ebony haired struggles to whip his head to jing yuan's direction, a stifled satisfied expression carved on his face. "we should immortalize this." dan heng always understands jing yuan's point— and there they come into a quick agreement especially now that their cocks are twitching in unison, yearning for more. with a swift setting of a camera right in front of your lustful bodies, it starts to record every single detail unraveling as carnal desire inebriate the quartet.

they took turns in which who has the privilege to power piston into your cunt, while the other jacks himself off, letting his cum spring free in strings, embellishing your skin with numerous diagonals. another idea rises later on, putting it into action as two of them pleasure the both of your entrances, while the remaining person thrusts his cock deep inside your mouth once again. your body drifts into cloud nine, having three men thrill you with their own dicks at the same time wasn't so bad after all - and most importantly, your lover's dysfunction is finally treated.

more juices of orgasm sprawl out of your slit, pussy continues to spasm up to no end, knees trembling— how many times has it been since you came tonight? even the men themselves already lost count. all they're aware of is the four of you are having a good time, each male having their own charm that had your heart in a chokehold of lust.

my masterlist !