#the concept is so great and enticing

[marlynnofmany]

My Patreon is almost live!

I’m pushing all the buttons now. Can’t wait. It’s gonna be great.

[jamjaemin]

Better in person — j.lee (M)

summary: the two gorgeous idols and models meet the famous photographer for a cover shoot. What happens when you catch Jeno’s eye?

pairings: idol model! Jeno lee x photographer! reader + mentioning of your friend photographer! Jaemin, idol model! Chenle (Jeno’s friend)

word count: 6.3k mdi+18

warnings: penetrative sex, rough sex, use of master, use of pet names, pussy eating, creampies, edging, spanking, different sex positions, love bites, breeding kink, dirty talk, spanking, hair pulling.

notes: this is completely inspired by the recent jeno pics of that magazine, because damn I'm feral, Also this was written after a month from my break i still have so much studies :( , anyways hope you enjoy! Taglist: @peachesmilk @kakikuro @hanaj @niinjo @tihaynes @minkyuncutie @jennieonline

The constant flash of cameras, the constant stress and rush of deadlines, and the constant presence of models and unreal people.

You were used to this constant experience of being a photographer for one of the most popular magazines in Korea. Being one of the most desirable photographers in Korea, due to your work for the magazine. With this, you were given the opportunity to work with several respected celebrities.

Along with that though, you were quite popular yourself and not for just photography. More specifically your looks. Many idols claimed they had a hard time focusing on the shoot when their photographer was so attractive. You always blushed or laughed away at their comments, trying to stay professional. But with all the glamorous people you worked with daily, sometimes that task became quite difficult. Especially the males.

Today, you sat in your photography studio all by yourself. There were no specific clients for the day, and the studio was empty. But you still decided to go to the studio today for some fun. You had a personal concept for a shoot and decided to do it today. It wasn’t your usual type of shoot but, you couldn’t help but be drawn to a different style.

Faint music played throughout the studio, setting the mood for the studio. The dim color of cool-toned lights filled the studio. Prop tables are set with several glimmering and colorful items. Along with several cameras set up at different angles. The array of makeup and hair products spread across the table.

You had everything set up, but for the specific plan you had this wouldn’t work out. You needed several angles for the shoot, but some of them couldn’t be done by a simple tripod or stand. You had to call up one of your photographer friends to assist you in this shoot. After much begging and pleading you finally got him to agree with you.

In the meantime, you had started getting ready for the shoot. Preparing with slicked hair, the swish of stray hairs, and accents of pearls and jewels. Lightly dewy makeup with several highlights and sparkles. All the details were perfect, making you look almost like a siren.

Perfectly on time, your friend arrived at your studio. Na Jaemin is also a very famous photographer that worked with you almost everyday, he was a bit surprised at your appearance but was enticed by the concept you proposed. Even mentioning some effects you could use. Such as water, the effect of a fan blowing...

The shoot continued perfectly, with many great photos coming out. Even if the floor was soaking wet with water. The studio was practically flooded, but it was worth it. Not to mention your friend, hyping you up behind the camera.

“ Yes, seduce me with your looks girl! “

“just like that, that's it!" jaemin said with his lazy deep tone taking so many photos.

All of his comments make you laugh or crack a smile. The shoot was full of playfulness and fantasy. You missed having fun shoots like these, and not just serious modeling shoots. Although through the fun, one of your managers stepped in.

“ Hey, whenever you can, wrap this up. Y/N is needed for a shoot in studio 3 “

Just as quickly as your manager left, you stared at jaemin in confusion. You didn’t have any planned shoots this morning. You paused the shoot momentarily, to go check out the studio.

You were still in your outfit from the shoot, clearly not your usual photographer look. When walking through the lobby of the studio, the pearls and jewels on your outfits sparkled and shined throughout the room. Workers coming in would glance at you, entranced by your look.

You knocked on the studio 3 door, and it opened slowly. A fellow staff member helping you inside the studio and handing you the information for the shoot. Everyone in the studio was caught off guard by your model-like appearance at the moment.

It especially caught one of the model’s eyes.

Reading the information of the shoot caught you off guard, very quickly. It was a shoot with chenle and jeno from one of the most popular boy bands in Korea called nct dream. You’ve seen clips of them somewhere you thought. You glanced at both of their profile shots, both absolutely stunning. One specifically caught your eye.

Jeno Lee

He had a stunning visual and even had the ability to pull off several different styles. You could easily tell by the photos. Which was ideal for any photographer, If he made any comments to you today, you didn’t know if you could quite resist him.

Jeno stood there with his friend as the staff sorted out the shoot. When you walked in, your appearance caught his eye quickly. And it wasn’t only because of the shimmery and bright jewels that decorated your body. He heard of the famous photographer but still not knowing much about you, he could confirm after seeing you in real life you were quite stunning. Maybe it was an alluring and complex outfit you were wearing or maybe the fact you looked like a goddess right now. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. This shoot would be hard to focus on.

Once everything was sorted, you stepped forward and bowed to the two idols that stood in front of you.

“ I apologize for the delay, I’m your photographer. Also, I apologize for my appearance I was busy with another shoot. “ you said politely.

Jeno and chenle bowed and assured you it was alright. Chenle even complimented your outfit, saying he wanted to know more about the shoot. You blushed at his comment and told him you’d spare them the details later. You explained how the shoot would go. It was an advertisement for Ferragamo × Harper's Bazaar Korea. They were excited and hyped for the shoot. You smiled at their action and sent them off to the makeup and hair team.

You set up everything for the shoot and quickly exited to talk to jaemin about your other shoot.

When they were sent to the makeup and hair room chenle couldn’t help but start talking and whispering.

“ Did you see her, the rumors really are true “ chenle spoke up.

“ Oh my god. She looked so good in that outfit. “ he commented again.

“ What do you think jeno?. “

Jeno was so focused on what was going on earlier, that he didn’t realize someone was talking to him.

“ Jeno? “ chenle asked.

“ Oh, she was really pretty. I really want to know what she was doing for that other shoot. “ jeno started rambling on about you.

Chenle laughed at how he started practically rambling about you, even if he had just met you. He could tell jeno may have a big admiration for you, and maybe even a slight crush. His laugh caught the attention of everyone in the room and he didn’t stop until jeno gave him the stare.

Jeno was the first to finish, and the makeup team let him go. Yet he didn’t know where to go. He looked like a lost puppy in the lobby waiting around. A few minutes passed and still chenle hadn’t left the makeup room. He was left bored all alone in the lobby, he asked other staff members if there was anything he could do. And the only thing they suggested was visiting your other studio where your other shoot was. That would be entertaining at least.

He knocked on the door politely, awaiting a response. When the door opened, he was met with you looking up to him.

“ Oh hey, jeno. Has the shoot started? Do they need me? “ you asked.

“ Oh no, not yet. I just got done early with the makeup team and they said I could come in here. Only if you don’t mind. “ jeno said.

“ Oh no, of course you can come in. “ you said a little embarrassed, it was the first time working with him and chenle, you didn’t know what to do. You pulled jeno inside your studio.

While the whole thing happened, chenle watched from the sidelines giggling. Seeing his friend getting pulled into the studio with you. He’d have to ask jeno for the details later.

When you pulled him into the studio, he was met with colorful lights and the flooded studio floors.

“ I apologize for the mess in the studio, we had to get the perfect look for the shoot. Even if we ended up flooding the studio. “ you laughed.

“ I don’t mind. “Jeno smiled.

You showed him around the room, showing the several props and effects. The concept was out of this world in Jeno’s eye. It was something you wouldn’t see every day. Yet it piqued his interest nevertheless. You guided him to a seat near the corner of the room, but it still gave him a good view of the shoot. You caught up with jaemin and explained everything he missed. And you began the shoot again.

Jeno couldn’t help but watch in amazement as the camera clicked away. Your face was so serious, yet had a siren-like look. He started questioning why you were a photographer and not a face model. That slight crush from earlier was definitely growing as the shoot continued. The way you posed and moved was so alluring and addicting to watch. Halfway through the shoot, someone came in to remind the two that the other shoot would begin soon. You smiled and thanked the staff member before going with jeno to studio 3.

When everyone was gathered together, you immediately went into photographer mode. You gave them lots of freedom giving them the chance to express themselves in the photos. And they did not disappoint with their expressions. Their facial expressions were so fierce and on point, it surprised you. Each shows off their own unique flair.

its time for individual photos.

Starting with chenle and ofc it went so smooth but when it came time for you to take individuals of Jeno you had to excuse yourself for a second. You frantically rushed towards the bathroom. Many people watching you confused, some concerned especially Jeno. It wasn’t like this earlier...

When you finally made it to the bathroom, you sat on the cold floors, against the door and sighed. There was no way in hell you were going to survive individual shots with him. It wasn’t even because of comments he’s made or anything, his appearance just had this effect that was very hard to resist. You’ve done these kinds of shots with many other idols why was this on so much harder?

Many of the staff members waited anxiously for their lead photographer to leave the bathroom, but it was starting to take a while. Many of them grew concerned in that moment. Some suggested going over there to check if you were okay. But Jeno spoke up before anyone else could do anything.

“ I’ll go check on her, give me a second. “

And just like that he headed straight to the bathroom where you ran off too. Before barging in, he knocked on the door softly before whispering.

“ Hey you okay in there, We need you for the shoot, No rush. “

The knock on the door caught you off guard, almost making you gasp. But you covered your mouth. Out of all the people that had to come to get you, it had to be Jeno huh? Just your luck. You sat up and tried to fix your appearance, your face still flushed bright red. You sighed and opened the door.

And when you opened the door you were met with Jeno leaning against a nearby wall. He was so hot with that long black coat, you felt like summer even its freezing cold outside. If you thought he looked like a model earlier, he looked more like one now. But as you were staring Jeno realized your presence and walked up to you.

“ Are you alright? need help? “ he asked frantically.

You smiled at him and put your arms on his shoulder to reassure him, “ no I’m fine let’s go to the shoot now “. The moment you touched him he knows it's over, there's no way he didn’t fall for you not a single way.

Jeno followed you like a puppy back over to the studio. You apologized to everyone for holding up the shoot and prepared for his individuals. Checking all the cameras and the lighting.

The camera clicked away, and the flash filled the room. Jeno effortlessly posed and modeled for his individuals. He used everything he could from his look to his hands, and even his clothes. Trying to get the best photos possible. You were practically dying behind the camera, even a slight blush forming across your face. And chenle from the sideline suggested jeno get closer up photos and get close to the camera. Guess what, jeno loved the idea and moved closer to the camera, aka closer to you and that was for two reasons, first is for the magazine the second is to make sure you have a crush on him just like the way he does about you. He showed many facial expressions, giving you a variety of points of view.

When you finished Jeno’s individuals, you had to sit down for a second. During the last moments of that, your faces were mere inches apart almost only the camera between the two of you. Your face was flushed red and you were completely flustered. But you had to finish the shoot.

The shoot ended with a couple more photos of both of them against one another.

After the shoot, you left studio 3 and headed back to your original studio. Hoping to finish up your original photo shoot.

Jaemin left for a short coffee break like usual, leaving you alone in the studio. You started doing some quick touch-ups to your appearance. Due to the earlier events, some parts of your look were messy. But as you were working on your appearance you heard a knock on the studio door.

You were confused, jaemin was on a coffee break and wouldn’t be there for a while. And not to mention the other shoot had ended, so it couldn’t be a manager or anything. You stood up from your original seating and headed towards the studio door. You peaked your eyes through the creak of the door, to see Jeno standing there. You opened the door completely and looked at him confused.

“ Do you need me in something Jeno? You know the shoot is over right? “ you said as calmly as you could.

Not to mention the nervous pounding in your chest, he seemed quite nervous too.

“ Oh yeah, I know. I was just wondering… you know what actually never mind. “ Jeno started, before stopping himself.

“ no no, tell me what it is “You grabbed his hand.

“ Well I liked the concept of the shoot you were doing right now, and I kinda wanted to join it. “ he practically whispered.

“Oh, you want to be a part of my shoot. I mean you wouldn’t get paid, and this is far from like high professional its for practice. “ you warned him and your heart skipped a beat hearing his next words.

“ yes I know “ he replied, his eyes never left yours a single second.

“ Sure, you can join. “ You said, your heartbeats getting louder so your breaths.

Earlier after the shoot, chenle realized how much his friend didn’t want to leave the studio. It wasn’t because of the glamorous outfits or bags, but rather the photographer behind the camera. He knows what's up between the two of you so he encouraged him to visit you before he left and here he was.

The original inspo for your shoot was with only one person, but with Jeno here it gave you a similar inspiration.

You slowly go to work on his appearance, You sat across from him but you’d move closer to get certain details. The two of you are extremely close in those moments. Sometimes you’d even tilt his chin to get the right design and make sure he looked perfect, before picking out his outfit.

"Done!" You said softly.

You then directed him towards the set of the studio. Warning him about the water and helped position him for the shots. You lowered the lighting and the camera began clicking away, you zoned into your element. Capturing the pure essence of jeno’s natural beauty. Several pics later, jaemin comes in. He was a bit caught off guard seeing Jeno but didn't question it.

He grabbed his own camera and offered to take photos of the both of you. You were hesitant at first but with how Jeno looked at you, you couldn’t resist. The two of you were an unstoppable duo in the photos. The dynamic of both of you was crazy. As time went on, the two of you grew comfortable with one another and posed closer together he even holds your chin for you to look at him in some of the photos. You’d do the same. Jeno tried to be professional but he couldn’t help but feel his heart pound at your actions.

The shoot quickly came to an end, jaemin left right away because he was so tired and have to work full day tomorrow. The studio is being packed up and cleaned. Leaving you and Jeno by

yourselves.

As you finish cleaning up, you feel arms wrap around your waist. You turn around to see the most expected person with a playful grin on his face. Jeno leaned close to your ear and whispered.

“What was that about, earlier? grabbing my hand, touching my shoulder and the way you're looking at me like this, hmm?..”

“ Take it however you want it—Jeno. “ you replied.

“I need to hear it, right here,right now “ he teased.

“you think i did it on purpose. “

Jeno smiled at your statement and leaned closer to your neck.

“pretty sure—I'll never leave until you say it, love “ he whispered against your neck in a teasing manner.

You closed your eyes at the sensation of his breath against your neck. His voice is very tempting, and I mean you couldn’t reject such a polite gentleman, now could you?

"I don’t want you to leave."

You place a soft kiss on his neck, the immediate action catching him off guard. Jeno’s hand tangled in your hair, and his other hand held your waist securely. Lips traveled from his neck slowly up to his jaw. Jeno’s breath quickened and all he's thinking about is how to love you right.

Abruptly he pulled you into a passionate kiss before you could debate further. His hands wrapped around your waist and yours draped around his neck. He pushed you against the nearby wall with his lips still tangled with yours. The movement was quick but you were quick to adjust. Letting Jeno take full control.

As the two of you continued, you began moving around the studio. Stumbling kisses, roaming hands, and laughter.

“Tell me that you want me as much as I do. That I can fuck you however i like.” The vulgar words that came from his mouth sent a violent shudder down your spine. You were not used to dirty talk, but it was something you would gladly get used to if it meant Jeno was the one. 

“I-I....” You found yourself struggling to follow his commands despite the fact that you want this more than anything else.

You let out a sharp gasp when Jeno grabbed both your wrist by his single hand and pinned it above your head. The forceful slam on the wall rang in your ears as you found yourself staring at the man with wide eyes. His beautiful eyes looked dangerous. Like a wolf staring at his prey. 

“You have nowhere to run now, baby. Follow my orders, and I might just reward you.” Struggling to hold his heavy gaze, you closed your eyes. 

“I want you so much, Jeno— you can do anything you want with me” He lets out a low groan at your sweet words, the grip on your wrists tightening. He take the opportunity to spread your legs and position himself in between. Immediately, you whimpered when his clothed length rubbed against you. 

“Good girl.” Jeno whispers into your ear. He moves more, slowly grinding his hips against your throbbing core. The action had you choking back a needy moan. Even from that, you could tell how good his cock would be when you finally had it for yourself. Arousal flaring through your entire body, you struggled to stay still. 

“Look at me.” Even if you heard his command, you couldn’t do so immediately. Not when you felt your entire body crumble with the slightest of movements. Not when you knew you were soaking through your panties by now. You felt so overwhelmed with desire for him. 

"Fucking look at me when I tell you to, princess.” He spat the venomous words, landing a slap on your inner thigh. You flinched at the unexpected contact, and let out a broken moan. You couldn’t help but meet his dangerous gaze. 

“That’s right, keep your eyes on me. I want those pretty eyes on me only.” He said whilst grinding even harder against your clothed heat. His cock was so hard, you could practically feel him pulsating. He was rock hard- for you. 

You bit your lip to maintain your voice while still holding the eye contact. 

Once again, he leaned into your neck. When he placed a gentle kiss, you let out a small whimper. You couldn’t help but find your fingers tangled in his messy black hair all over again. When his hot tongue started traveling over your sensitive neck, you bit your lip even harder. You made a futile attempt to move your arms. Jeno was having none of it- the iron grip he held was too strong.

“Stay still.” bitting on your neck harder to warn you. You couldn’t help but let out breathy moans here and there when he ravaged your neck as much as he could. He didn’t leave a spot open, not an inch where he didn’t kiss, bite or lick. You were sure to have quite a few love bites tomorrow. 

He let your wrists go to take off your top and skirt. You faintly remembered wearing tights. When he noticed the thin material, he didn’t give you a chance to answer before instantly ripping it to shreds. Roughly stripping you out of the clothing, he hungrily took in the sight of you in your underwear. 

God damn, you were stunning and all his. 

“you will be mine.” He growled when placed a kiss on your collarbone. He unhooked your bra and threw them across the room. Large rough hands fondling your tits, he continued the trace of love bites downwards. He wanted to mark every inch your body if he could’ve. 

As much as he wanted to just destroy you immediately, your pleasure was the priority to him. He had no intentions of rushing anything today. But even so, some things had his patience running out.

You let out a loud gasp when he ripped your panties as well. The unexpected gesture sent a burning arousal straight to your core. You were sure to be soaking wet by now, you could even feel it yourself. The sudden exposure to the cold air had you shivering. 

You made a futile attempt to close your legs in embarrassment. Contrary to your wishes, Jeno’s hands held a firm grip on your thighs to prevent that. 

“Don’t you dare hide this pretty pussy from me, baby.” The absolute filth coming from him had you clenching around nothing down there. The need of having him inside you was growing rapidly each second. You wanted to touch, kiss, and feel him in every way you could. 

You badly wanted him, in every way possible.

Your hips moved automatically, grinding against him sensually. Growling, Jeno’s  tongue swirled around yours. The hot open-mouthed kiss took your breath away, he stopped wasting time and took his shirt off before kissing you again, but this time was rougher, your nails sinking into his wide back until you finally broke away.

“When did I give permission to move your hips sweet girl?” he sounded dangerous when he growled it like that. Once again, you felt your hot core pulsing and dripping. 

“Keep your eyes on me while I eat this pussy out.” His narrow eyes looked even sharper than before when he finally had a proper look at you. The sight of you naked, whimpering his name was something he would never forget. 

He secured his grip on your thighs before getting on his knees and diving in. 

Jeno’s hot breath over your soaking cunt, he took a second to spread the lips apart. Almost immediately locating your clit, he lightly teased it with his thumb. Satisfied with how your body shook violently, he felt himself get rock hard. 

When his hot tongue brushed over your sensitive clit, you could’ve sworn you saw stars. Dark brown eyes never once leaving yours, he carefully observed your reaction to each of his motions. You let out a sharp yelp. 

Jeno experimentally flicked your bud. Wet tongue attached to your swollen clit, his eyes never left your face. Lewd sounds of your juice filling the room- your cheeks burned in embarrassment. 

Wasting no time in finding your sweet spots, he left you grabbing on his hair in no time. He circled his tongue teasingly on your clit, he lightly flicked it directly. The sensation too mind-blowing, you cried out his name. Jeno was relentless in his actions, fingers sinking into your soft thighs as he ate you out like a starved man. He wasn’t afraid to get messy, all he cared about was how your body trembled every time he sucked gently on the sensitive bud. Brutally ravaging your cunt, he sensed that you were nearing your orgasm. 

“Jeno, I-I’m close!” You cried out, gripping his hair like your life depended on it. Nothing could prepare you for the powerful orgasm that was coming, you could just hope you wouldn’t go mad. It was so close, you were so close- 

Until he pulled away. 

Before you knew it, he had started again.  

Jeno had made it his goal to edge you until you lost your mind completely. The sight of you so fucked out drive him crazy, he groaned into your cunt at the thought. 

He would do it until you felt the knot in your lower stomach, threatening to break any second- And then stop. You would chase your high, pressure in your lower stomach building up more and more- until he ripped it away from you. After waiting a few seconds for you to cool down, he continued his assault again. It felt like he’s been going at it for hours. 

“J-Jeno—Please, please let me cum..!” You cried weakly, hands finding its way to his messy locks again. Lightly pushing his head further, you wanted him to make you cum over and over again.

“mmh i don't think so sweetheart.” You shook your head violently at his words, eyes getting teary again from the brutal orgasm denial. All you wanted was your orgasm that had been ripped away from you too many times.

He went back to eating you out.

“Please let me cum... master!” As soon as you choked out the name, Jeno’s eyes snapped in your direction. 

The endearment brought out his animalistic instincts further. Loud slurping noises fill the room once again, just this time even more furiously. His tongue brushed over your clit over and over again, until you finally felt the knot come undone. You weren’t prepared for it to come so fast, a loud moan being ripped from you. Long awaited orgasm washed over your entire body.

Jeno licked your pussy, having a taste of you once more. He was addicted to you. 

The sinful sight of him made your cheeks flare, and core clench against nothing. Even if it was immediately after cumming, you felt the growing need to have him inside of you.  

“it's too much, jeno stop please.” You spat out feeling sensitive, your eyes went wide when he slammed his hand on your thighs and glared up at you with furious glint in his eyes. 

“Don’t order me around, princess. You better use the right word to address me from now on.” You felt your entire body shudder at his words. He was so naturally dominant, the need to submit completely to him growing. 

Yet, you couldn’t help but want to provoke him further.

“But it hur-Ah!” Jeno pulled you closer to him by roughly pulling you on your thighs but then clicked his tongue and stand up again...seconds and he's carrying you with ease to a near table placing you on the cold surface before spreading your legs. 

“You better be ready for the big words you uttered just now.” When you saw him finally taking off his belt and unzipping his pants position himself at your glistening wet folds, you felt your body catch fire. You wanted him so bad it was driving you insane. 

“please be gentle, master” You knew you could take whatever he could give you. As you directly met his burning gaze, he can't help himself especially when he look at your innocent eyes, you took in the sight of him smirking darkly at your request. 

His length was impressive, to say the least. Both length and width exceeded the standards of average, it will hurt so good, no doubt.

Even so, it was Jeno. It was with him, so you could take anything. You wanted everything he could give you. 

“Hang on tight, sweetheart.” Your delicate hands were placed on his wide shoulders as you anxiously waited him to finally slip it inside you. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead before he rubs his thick tip on your entrance, you both sharply inhaled with a breathy moan following afterwards. Jeno staring at you with such eyes, it felt amazing to be claimed in such intimacy. 

He slowly pushed his length inside while hearing your beautiful voice, mesmerized. The thickness caused a sweet burn inside, making you arch your back. Even if it hurt, you didn’t want him to stop. 

“Does it hurt?” he was undeniably worried at your slightly grimacing expression.

“a little” adding “I want it all inside me baby.” you couldn’t help it. The desire to be ruined by him was too overwhelming. 

He grunted before pushing in all the way without any warning. You yelped, nails digging into his shoulder. The sweet pain of being stretched out by the man you’re having a crush on was indescribable. When your tight cunt clenched around him, Jeno shuddered. 

He didn’t wait a single second to go absolutely wild with you. As if unleashing a beast in slumber, his eyes shone in a new light you had never seen before. 

“You’re so fucking tight, this pretty cunt is all for me— fuck” He sounded like he was talking to himself more as he dragged himself out to the very tip, then slamming it back in. The sound of skin slapping against each other mixed with the air smelling like sex itself, you lost yourself in the moment. Entire body burning with desire, your mouth hung open. You had absolutely zero control over your voice as you freely let out the embarrassingly loud moans spill. Jeno’s eyes darkened at the sweet sound, wrapping one hand on your neck choking you softly. And tightening his grip the more you moan.

He kept up a rather fast and rough pace, contrary to what you initially imagined it would be. Your nails sinking into his back, you cried out louder. The only thing keeping you sane in this moment was the feeling of his thick cock slipping in and out of you. He was addicting, and he knew it. The higher he took you, the greedier you became. 

“Harder, faster, master!” You had the nerve to talk even when you could barely take the current pace. Jeno’s thrusts became faster and rougher, the iron grip on your hips holding you still while you were practically sobbing when he started rubbing circles on your clit alongside. Entire body shaking with each thrust, his eyes were still observing you. 

In under a minute, he found your sweet spot inside as well. When he noticed your breath hitching louder and body shudder more violently, he knew he hit the jackpot. As he targeted that specific spot, you felt tears rimming your eyes. The high-pitched moans coming uncontrollably out of your open lips were doing a lot of things to him. He fucked you exactly the way you wanted. 

He let go of your neck landing a loud slap on your inner thigh again, he slipped out. 

You almost cried and was prepared to beg for it again. Contrary to your initial thought, you found yourself being forcefully flipped over to a new position. 

“Head down ass up, sweetheart. Hurry up.” You immediately followed his words and sticked your ass against his length again, chest pressed on the table. 

"That's my good girl" Your mind went blank when he slipped his thick cock again into your tight walls. The new position bringing out newer, vivid sensations, you moaned needily. Jeno’s low voice with his breathy moan was sinful- music to your ears. 

“Ngh, master- feels so good-!” Your mind couldn’t focus on anything else other than the sweet sensation of his thick cock filling you to the brim and bringing out moans you didn’t know you could produce. Jeno’s mind was also foggy, the feeling of your tight pussy and beautiful voice feeling like a dream. 

When he dragged his veiny cock over your sweet spot from behind, you screamed at the feeling. Too embarrassed to hear yourself in such manner, you sunk your teeth to your lower lip. Jeno immediately noticed you trying to lower your moans.  

He landed a sharp spank on your ass this time, leaving a pretty red print behind. You couldn’t help but let your voice out and looked back at him. When he glared at you with those eyes, you knew what he was thinking even without him voicing it out. 

“Don’t fucking make me repeat myself, baby. You are mine, let me hear those pretty little moans.” You weakly nodded, struggling to stay in position. Every time he slammed into you, you saw red. You had never felt anything like this before. 

“I’m going to own this pretty pussy, and fill it with my cum until you can’t take it anymore yeah.” His dirty talking had you clenching around him immediately. Jeno inhaled sharply at the tightening, landing soft spanks here and there. The sweet feeling of being pounded raw filled you with desire, nothing else mattered beside you and him. 

“Who is making you moan so loud? Tell me, sweetheart. Who owns this pussy? Who do you belong to? Fuck, such a good girl.” You let out needy moan after moan, the sharp sounds of his hip snapping against yours filled your ears. He groaned and gripped your hip even tighter with one hand and gripping on your hair with the other one

“I am master’s good girl, you own me-” You were surprised you managed to form a sentence with your mind in such state. The man you’ve had a crush on few hours ago, pounding you rough and raw from behind. It was still unbelievable. Yet, sparks flying and the addicting feeling of his cock slipping in and out of you had your eyes rolling to the back of your head. You could focus on absolutely nothing than his cock filling you up.

Your orgasm was quickly approaching, sensitivity heightened when Jeno pulled you harder by your hair. Yelping in pain, you felt yourself drool. The fast and rough pace he had never slowed down, not even a second. Every time he slipped out, he explored you inside out and hit you in the spots you never even knew you had. When his large hands wrapped your neck again, your orgasm heightened even more. It was so close- 

“J-jeno, I’m-!”

“Let go baby, you’re doing so well. Cum on master’s cock, come on.” Almost immediately, you cried out and let go. The feeling of your crashing orgasm driving you crazy, your entire body trembled with oversensitivity. He let out a low grunt next to your ear, finally letting go of your neck. You didn’t even have the chance to breathe properly again before he started the cruel pace again immediately after your second orgasm of the night. 

“W-Wait baby!-ah!” You couldn’t form any word with the current state of mind, not when he was drilling into you like there was no tomorrow. You finally remembered he still hadn’t came yet. Gulping, you tried your best to hold on until he came undone. you were too busy trying to push your ass more towards him. Jeno bit down on your shoulder as he desperately tried to hold in the moans as he himself approached his high. 

"That's it, fuck" he growled and you finally felt him release inside you with a single deep moan. When he shoot his hot cum inside you, you greedily tightened around him. The feeling of being filled to the brim with his seed set your cheeks on fire. 

You whimpered when he pulled out turning you to face him, Jeno looked at you in such loving gaze breathing heavily, you felt your heart hammer against your chest. He was wonderful, you felt yourself falling deeper in love if that was even possible. When you both calmed down you start kissing slowly feeling every kiss.

“you have another shoot tomorrow you know?.” You said between kisses teasing him.

“I know, I can't wait to see you and fuck you again.“ Jeno whispers while smiling, after cleaning all the mess you made he drives you back to your home, both can't stop thinking about what happened today and what's gonna happen tomorrow.

[merakiui]

Mother

yandere!kabukimono x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, obsession, pregnancy, implied codependency, brief mentions of murder/death, brief mention of childbirth note - recently i was inspired to write a kabukimono story, so i hope you can enjoy it!

i. the miracle of life.

There is a little human growing within you.

Kabukimono has never heard of such a phenomenon, but according to you it’s a normal facet of life for all creatures. He, who has only ever interacted with men, young and old, and the occasional grandmother, has never known the word pregnancy. It’s a complicated concept he struggles to parse at first—like that first sip of sake or the stickiness of a sweet. It’s something that leaves you pleasantly rounded like a ripe lavender melon, softens the skin on your bones, and allows you to grow into the kimono that was once two sizes too large. It’s something you speak of with overwhelming warmth, a fondness so enticing it’s almost tangible. It’s something the men at the furnace discuss with great pride and merriment, swapping stories of their beautiful, beloved wives and the tiny miracles that dwell within the womb, adoration painted upon weathered countenances. 

Miracles. Kabukimono has heard the word once or twice. Miracles, as he has come to learn, are wonderful things wrapped in silks. Newborns swathed in softness. Frail humans who manage to overcome illnesses that are said to snuff both body and soul with the excruciating passage of time. Sometimes a miracle is simple and not nearly as exciting as tales of heroes and villains or a mortal fight for recovery. Sometimes a miracle is waking up to begin another day. Sometimes it's torrential rain battering thirsty farmlands. Sometimes it’s a delicious meal prepared by a loving hand. 

If Kabukimono’s existence were to be defined as a miracle, it would be both a grandiose, gilded lie and bittersweet flattery all in one pretty package. Miracles are wanted, loved, and accepted. Disasters, curses, failures—however you wish to name the wandering puppet—are unwanted, despised, and abandoned. Kabukimono may not know every truth of this vast world, but this is one he’s understood from the moment he awoke in a lonesome pavilion. 

There is a little miracle growing within you. 

“Although they’re not very little now,” you remark, taking his cold, bloodless hands in your warm, blood-filled ones.

You guide them to your belly, secured snugly with a hara-obi, and he averts his gaze, if only to be respectful of the bare flesh you’ve put on display. The men at the furnace note he often stares at you; they’ve said it’s unbecoming of a young man to fix licentious eyes upon a maiden. Once, they joked of repentance for invasive gazes: A man who strays too far from his honor when a lady is involved shall gouge his eyes out and present them to her in hopes of earning forgiveness. Kabukimono, unable to comprehend the sarcasm or the laughter, procured a shard of shattered glass, raised it to his eye, and was promptly stopped by a very concerned Niwa. 

“Now listen here,” he had said, addressing the group of chuckling men, “it’s not very honorable to trick others.”

Kabukimono knows that there are two types of tricks: the painful kind and the painless kind. Betrayal falls under the painful category. Swapping his bitter tea for sake falls under the painless category (though he was not spared of the dizzying, disorienting effects or the subsequent hangover). Had he sliced his eyes from his skull, he wonders if he would have felt the sting, the agony, the fluid filling empty eye sockets—if such fluid even exists within his unique anatomy. Kabukimono is grateful for Niwa, for he often rescues him from painless tricks that may turn painful should he follow through with blind trust. 

And, had he truly lost his eyes that day, he never would have had the pleasure of looking at you like he does now. 

“Not very little…” he parrots, and he can practically feel the heartbeat from your miracle the moment his hands rest upon your belly. It shimmers in the candlelight, but that’s only because you’ve applied herbal oil meant to soothe weary muscles and prevent stretch marks. “How big will it become?”

You hum, idly trace patterns onto the tops of his hands, and say, “It’s difficult to approximate. Imagine…a very big lavender melon.”

Kabukimono can do that. He peers past you at the purple pile on the table, spoils from his last walk. He always returns with too many, but then pregnancy leaves you with a voracious appetite and sometimes you can eat more than one melon in one sitting. It’s very admirable, so he brings more each week and you never stop him. 

“That’s big,” he mumbles, awestruck, and he slides a hand across the width of your stomach. “How does it fit?”

“It’s a miracle.”

“Oh.” He leans closer, suspecting he feels movement from within, and he’s proven correct when something shifts under his palms. His eyes, blown so very, impossibly wide, flick up to yours. “It… It moved!”

“Of course,” you say, smiling, and your eyes are the prettiest gemstones in the moonlight. He could stare at them forever. “They kick and squirm often. This, too, is the sweetest miracle.”

“How so?”

“A restless baby means they are alive and well within.” You look like a statue of the gentlest goddess when you cradle your stomach. “It’s all I could ever hope for.”

Curiously, Kabukimono withdraws his hands and lifts the hem of his silks to view his own flat, porcelain stomach. He presses a palm against synthetic skin. It’s cold, but there is life crackling beneath his hand, just barely contained within the frame his mother personally sculpted. 

Mother. It’s another word he knows well, but he cannot seem to apply it to anyone other than his creator. But, as he has come to learn, a mother is meant to provide and protect. His mother is currently absent, so she cannot do those things. 

“You must have something you want.” 

Kabukimono lowers the fabric, cinches it tight, and peers at you. “Something I want?”

“Like a miracle of your own.”

“I am unable to conceive a miracle.”

You stare at him for a moment before laughing a quiet, melodious laugh. “It doesn’t have to be a child. It can be anything you want.”

His hands rise to his chest and he intends to admit his true wish—a heart and a place amongst humans—but instead he says, “I would like a mother for myself.”

“Do you not have a mother, Kabukimono?”

“I do… I did.” He shakes his head, finding that the admittance is too troublesome on his tongue. “I’m…unsure.”

You nod, your features softening with understanding. “Perhaps something else then?” Kabukimono reaches out to touch your belly, hesitates, and draws away, conflicted. You offer an encouraging smile. “You can touch. I don’t mind, and I don’t think the baby minds either.”

And so he does.

“I want to see your miracle when it’s brought into the world,” he whispers, speaking more to your baby than to you. “And I would like to know the miracle of life.”

As if in response, your little miracle kicks.

ii. the miracle of death. 

Your little miracle almost fell from the sky that envelops it.  

On the way to the furnace, a man bumped into you and you were sent stumbling on uneven ground. Kabukimono does not want to think of what could have happened if he hadn’t been a few steps behind—if he hadn’t rushed to your aid with a quickness rivaling lightning. He’d caught you in his arms and, noting the raw panic sullying such a friendly face, could only exhale a slow, relieved sigh. 

When you fell, you were holding your belly, shielding it as if it was worth more than your own life. When you fell, the man who had been the catalyst for this short-lived horror did not jump in to catch you. When you fell, you were a sliver away from tragedy. 

Kabukimono tastes red-hot anger in his throat, but he cannot understand where it’s coming from or why it consumes him entirely. But he must get it out of his system. It’s unpleasant and wrong and sordid. He doesn’t like it. Not at all.

And so, later that same day, he repays terror tenfold and leaves the man clinging to the strand he calls life.

“I won’t allow you to take my miracle away.” It’s spoken like a fact, shot through with syllables of deadly certainty. The sharpened tip of his blade prods at the man’s abdomen, a warning, a threat, and a promise all at once. For nearly taking a life, you shall pay for it with your own.

“Your mother?” the man had sputtered, terrified and confused, sticky with sweat and tears. 

Kabukimono does not let the man speak again, for the sword sinks into his stomach, and unease morphs into painful torment. To be certain the man won’t survive, Kabukimono twists the sword, sullies his hands in the process, and yanks it free with startling strength. Blood speckles a pristine canvas. It’s warm and wet.

He did not say mother. He did not. You’re a miracle. You are not his mother. You will be a mother to your miracle, not him because he isn’t a miracle. 

He did not say mother. 

Kabukimono finds himself sitting across from you now. There is a ghastly tear in crimson-spattered silks. You suspect the truth in the liquid staining his attire. Surely you must. But you keep your lips pursed and thread the needle through with expert fingers, humming as you work. Kabukimono sits primly, watching you with bright, indigo hues. You hum a melody he has never heard before.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m uninjured.”

“I’m glad.” You snip the excess string away and tuck the needle into your sewing kit. “It’s fixed. I’m sorry if it looks a little awkward. I’m not the best at—”

“It’s perfect,” he insists, admiring the stitching as if it’s the most valuable thing in all of Teyvat. Irreplaceable, for no one could replicate your exact pattern, and that’s what makes it so special. 

“Would you like to talk about it?”

He’s quiet for all of two minutes before the silence shatters his resolve. “Your miracle…” He frowns, suddenly ashamed. “He almost hurt your miracle…”

“But he didn’t, and I have you to thank for that.” You hold your hands out, palms up, and add, “Your hands aren’t meant to break and destroy others. You were given these precious palms to embrace others, to protect others, to respect others.” 

Slowly, he places his hands in yours. His seem to weigh heavy like a grimy sin, yet somehow all it takes is a single touch from you and all of his filth is cleansed. His fingers curl around yours, entwining like vines.

“I will embrace others. I will protect others. I will respect others.”

You squeeze his hands reassuringly. “When you’re upset, rather than acting rashly, take a step back and sit with your feelings. If the unpleasant thing persists, come to me and we can discuss. But please don’t take your frustrations out on others. You weren’t made to hurt others.”

“Then if I was not made for destruction, what else could be the purpose for my creation?”

To that, you’re unable to produce a satisfactory reply. Instead, you pull one of your hands free, lick your thumb, lean towards him, and scrub the blood from his cheeks. He blinks at you, unaccustomed to such consideration. The men at the furnace often tease him for trailing after you like a lost, little duckling, seeking your approval and affection. Tonight, since the men are nowhere in sight, he thinks he can allow himself to be greedy without any admonishments from Niwa or Katsuragi. You sure do like that (Name), huh? the latter often muses, exchanging wary, furtive glances with Niwa, as if both are preparing to weather a calamity. 

Kabukimono always speaks the truth unless he must take care to conceal it. So when he tells them, I like her more than I like the world that surrounds me, he means it. Because without you there is no world.

“Thank you, Mother,” he murmurs, as if it’s a secret, a title not meant to be uttered by him. 

Oh, he said it again. He said mother. 

iii. the miracle of motherhood.

Kabukimono kneels at your bedside like an angel of death dressed in the purity of white. He watches you throughout the hour, listening to your cries, your groans, your hisses, while a grandmother assists below, whispering soothing consolations that somehow reach Kabukimono’s ears despite the shrill noises that fill the room. Kabukimono has learned she’s a granny who delivers life, so he puts his faith in her to take good care of you and your miracle.

The process is much longer than he anticipated. Though you’re covered in sweat and tears, your chest heaving, your hand searching for him in the midst of the commotion, you are the most beautiful miracle he has ever known. He closes his hand around yours and you squeeze so hard you might just tear his wrist from the joint. But it doesn’t hurt him, and he spends the afternoon at your side, watching the toll the miracle takes on your body.

He never blinks, burning the scene into his retinas. 

Some time later, you are holding your miracle in your arms, tears tracking down your cheeks in salty streaks. Kabukimono watches mother and child with wide, adoring eyes. After all this time, your miracle is finally here! You’re holding such a fragile human and there is love trickling from your lash line. Kabukimono wants to cry with you, but the tears won’t come. 

So instead he smiles. You seize his wrist and drag him down to where you rest, and the smile widens.

“Your miracle is leaking,” he observes, and you snort in amusement.

“Crying,” you correct, bumping your forehead with his. “She’s adorable, isn’t she?”

Kabukimono is inclined to agree, but your eyes are not on him. For the first time in the many months he’s been acquainted with you, he is not all you see. Somehow that saddens him, carves a hole into him, but he can’t mourn. He shouldn’t. He’s come to learn that the miracle of childbirth is an occasion worthy of celebration. He should be happy for you—and he is—but there is a pang in his chest. Something is not fitting where it should. Something is amiss.

“I think I’ll name her…Aika.”

“Is it common to give miracles names?”

“Of course. Everyone has a name, even you. We’re all given one the moment we’re born.”

Even me… 

Aika continues to cry and you rock her to and fro in your arms, shushing her with a song. She settles within minutes, lulled to sleep, and you follow shortly after. He refuses to leave your bedside, preferring to watch over you like a dutiful guard.

Kabukimono weighs his two warring wants: a name of his own, generously given by his mother, and you. In this very moment, you are attainable. A name, however, is not. But perhaps he can survive without one if it means you’ll accompany him through nameless wandering.

He’s only ever whole when he’s with you. 

iv. the miracle of rebirth. 

The Balladeer stands at an all-too-familiar doorstep. He has since swapped his pure linens for a shroud of darkness, and he’s taken on a new alias (he refuses to call it a name, for only you can grant him one). You haven’t changed in the many years that have since followed, for you are not fully human like him. Yet you veil yourself in the wonders of humanity, always empathetic in nature, tainted with weak emotions. You will never be human, but then neither will he and there is catharsis in similarity. The both of you stand on equal ground in that regard, or so you might have thought. 

He is better because he feels nothing, or so he believes. Perhaps, in the center of the labyrinth that is his mind, he recognizes his flaws and the fact that he is worse because you can accept the many aspects of humanity. 

Shrugging these irritations away, he composes himself, squares his shoulders, and knocks thrice. He could forego etiquette altogether, kick your door down, and force himself inside for the sake of a cruel surprise, but he refrains from doing so. He suspects your newest miracle might tumble from your sky if he shocks you and then you will never know the sweet cycle of motherhood again.

You know better than to ignore Death when he comes knocking. The door opens wide; there’s no need to crack it and peek through the thin sliver when you’re already aware of the person who awaits you on the other side. 

As he has observed over the course of many months, you do have another miracle, hidden under the softness of a floral-patterned kimono. He smiles at you, sharp and wicked under a blanket of stars, and spreads his arms for a hug.

“Mother,” he says in a sarcastic singsong, knowing it unnerves you terribly when it spills like sin from his lips. “It’s so nice to see you again.”

Like an old habit, you welcome him in. Beyond your doorstep, the corpse of your most recent lover lies slumped and bloodied, decapitated and disemboweled, dragged so far there’s a vermilion trail marking the path. Sometimes you think these humans are not killed by The Balladeer but rather by the sheer ferocity of the hatred and anger he harbors. He’s always diligent with each of your lovers, swooping in the moment he catches their scents, like a predatory cat finely tuned for slaughter. 

He palms at your stomach, uncharacteristically gentle. “Aren’t you just full of miracles, Mother?”

There is a little human growing within you, and The Balladeer has made it his duty to bear witness to the birth of each one of your miracles.

[ananke-xiii]

Metatron's line "he's in love with humanity" is SO fucking great because it's both true and false at the same time and I love it.

It's false because we know that Cas is not in love with humanity as in "human beings collectively". He loves them as God's creatures and he appreciates them etc but he's not IN love with the whole concept. So ofc in this context Metatron is fucking with him and being all subtext-y because humanity IS Dean. He is IN love with Dean/Humanity.

But it's ALSO true, because yes, Cas is IN love with the "quality of BEING human", of feeling things for the first time, art, hope, love, dreams... the whole shebang. And ofc this is ALL connected to Dean but it's also SO connected to just Cas... being Cas and him being able to feel and love and experience LIFE. And he's totally IN love with THIS whole concept even though it's super scary and he doesn't know half of it but it's still so tempting and beautiful and enticing and it's something that HE wants.

Gossssssssh, the more I think about it, the more I just love this line. It's so beautiful and clever. Also, Metratron one of the best villains in SPN, will not debate.

[zuyoo]

s-aint. yūta x afab!reader, ﹙외설﹚ drabble

CONTENT WARNING — college setting, mdni! suggestive content, mastermind yūta (real), mentions of onIyf4ns, jerking off, subtle pervy themes.

SYNOPSIS — wherein the classroom’s good boy, okkotsu yūta, finds out the quiet girl’s secret… your secret.

ZUYOO’S NOTES — ohoho dirty, dirty boy (i love him) p.s. click the “s” in s-aint to see the masterlist!!

given how much people ask for his assistance on a daily basis, how come you’ve never asked for his help? it was concerning, unsettling, suspicious even.

it bothered him to the extent that he tried to find any way to help you, and grabbed those chances every time he does.

you emitted an aura that entices him. as in… if you were in a crowd of people, he would immediately notice where you were standing. an aura that captivates him… like, a sense of familiarity?

“good morning, [name].”

“oh, hey! good morning, [name].”

“you’re early today, [name]. good morning.”

he greeted you with delight, every. single. day. asking you questions regarding your morning to lengthen the conversation. he could sense your hesitance at first, but you grew comfortable with it eventually.

he loved feeling a sense of responsibility. the concept of him being the “reliable” one excites him. though, being the only one people usually depend on is tiring. to why he could never be more grateful of his apartment, his safe space to be himself.

he finally gets his peace and quiet, his alone time, where no one can see and disturb him from doing what he wants.

it would be such a sight to see the class’ renowned saint just jerking himself off, on his bed, to a girl on social media… right?

what would he ever do if someone were to catch him moaning out a name of some girl he doesn’t even know and haven’t even seen yet?

he discovered an account called ‘kissnyx’ on a random frustrating monday, who would’ve thought that it would turn into an addiction? certainly not yūta, himself.

after forming a habit of scrolling through “nyx”’s account, he looked forward to getting home as soon as possible and finally being able to let out some frustration. it didn’t take long before the said habit turned into a hyper fixation.

yūta is simply lucky that he still has the right amount of dignity and control to keep up with his image in school.

yūta, as a class representative, is usually the one who arranges papers of the class; test papers, assessments, projects, and such. where he noticed your name. your scores in some subjects were great—the others were… below average? per se.

which is when he suggested to your professor to allow him to tutor you and get your grades up on your weak subjects.

being the saint yūta is, the professor agreed there and then. the professor immediately contacted you regarding the tutoring session.

the professor was about to do everything himself, the schedule and such, but yūta volunteered to handle it and asked for your contact so that he could contact you instead.

“my, my. you’re such an angel, yūta! well, now that that’s settled. you can check my class record for her contact number.”

“thank you, professor.”

he saw this chance to finally be able to help you with something without you asking for his help. and a chance to get closer to another classmate. he has an image to keep up, he needs to feel self satisfaction in what he does before he can actually rest.

not so saintly of him, right?

it kind of looked painfully obvious that he was desperate to help you, as if he liked you. but given that he helps everyone around him, people disregarded his action towards you since it was “the normal” for yūta anyways.

as per the agreement, you two only met for your tutoring sessions on tuesdays and thursdays. it felt awkward during the first few sessions, but it didn’t take long for the both of you to feel comfortable in each other’s presence.

this is also the time when yūta slowly notices the small things, the small habits that you do that is somehow constantly reminding him of the account kissnyx.

as much as he tried to disregard it, it bothered him. your very presence bothered him because it felt… odd? for some reason.

his gut feeling felt that the [name] he was getting to know isn’t really who you are… but that would be impossible, right? you’re too innocent and quiet. he couldn’t imagine you being someone like “nyx”.

like, sure… you have the beauty- and the body… that a guy would love. given how you dress up in school, no one really notices how beautiful you looked. but then again, you and nyx were two completely different people. maybe it was just his delusion.

it was obvious that you were covering your tattoos because it was against the dress code, so perhaps the tattoo you could barely cover with concealer that he saw in between your… defined… collarbones were coincidentally the same like nyx’s.

perhaps you both also coincidentally share the way you cover your faces with your hands when you’re flustered or embarrassed.

maybe it’s just a coincidence that your nails were the same colors as hers that one wednesday.

or that you both have a similar mole near your smooth shoulders.

sure, there were one too many coincidences, but he’s trying his best to not think of your face when his fingers were wrapped around his cock, stroking it as nyx’s moans can be heard in the background.

was it a crush? no… not really… right? but the thought of you possibly being the person behind his one and only favorite alter account…? fuck.

he felt so- dirty. thinking of his innocent, quiet classmate while he fucks his fist in his pitch dark room, filling it with the sound of his groans and slick from the constant pumping.

“shit- need y’… i need [name]-”

his actions stilled, even he was surprised by what he just said. did he just moan out your name?

his cock twitching from the sudden loss of friction but he couldn’t give a fuck less. your name rolled off his tongue so smoothly… too smooth to his liking. he knew that very moment that he wanted you with him… he needed you with him.

masterlist.

—rbs & comments r highly appreciated!!

© zuyoo — do not copy, plagiarize, or translate my work without my permission. i only upload my work in tumblr.

[evilminji]

Pondering Doors Again >.>

Thinking about a concept I saw in a Manhwa. "Dungeons feed of the death that occurs within them" and how the Protagonist went "alright, Bet. A stable and prosperous society for outcasts has a LOT of Death! What with the need to eat food and people growing old and thus, inevitably, at least SOMEONE dying every day".

Because FARMING is and always has been a slower but more profitable way to accumulate food then Hunting. More reliable too.

And? What better way too feed your hunger(HungryHungryHUNGRYItHurtSIMSO-) then by BECOMING a Trap Door? Not every ghost looks human. Not every ghost WANTS too.

Maybe you want to Live. Yes, you are fighting, fighting, fighting. Not even Death can take you. But given half a chance? Given the infinite freedom of the Zone and all of Time stretched out before you? Do you? WANT to think anymore? WANT to keep fighting FOREVER for every scrap of food to fill your endless NEED for food? Your obsession with being full?

You can stop.

Like meditation.

Instead of MAKING a Lair... become one. You could always change your mind, if you felt like it. Souls rarely if ever DO, but you COULD. Then? You wait.

There are house ghosts. Dwellings that die. You blend right in. Are you angry? Vengeful? Do you blame the world? Perhaps you'll call them in. Like Hansel and Gretel. Look upon my house made of candy, children. Isn't it tempting? Isn't it sweet? Come closer. Listen to my siren song.

Chomp.

But, maybe you are tired. Hungry. Old bones and cold, barren soil. Barely the strength to paint gaudy veneers over straining, decaying wood. Like long abandoned circuses. You try for the appearance of cheer, but your tattered visage. betrays you. Yet, just like them, while you may not be able to entice those you truely wish to come? Vermin find safety and comfort in your walls.

And is that not how nature heals? First the weeds? The insects and vermin? Little things that build to great forests over time? Blobs hide within in you. Safely out from underfoot. What do they care, if you can not provide them scenery? You are safe. And they? They feed you in turn.

Like little worker bees. Drifting out, gorging on ectoplasm, and returning. Nesting safely inside you, they radiate that Ectoplasm and leech it into the Lair around them. You feed. And Feed. And FEED.

You make more places to hide for them. Bushes. Trees. You only half remember them now, so the colors are off and the forms shakey at best. The blobs do not care. More flock to you in response. You grow stronger. Make more trees.

You finally, FINALLY attract a curious and skittish ghost. They linger by the entrance. Watching. Uncertain. They know traps and hunters hide out here. Who would leave a perfectly good Lair up for grabs? This is a trick. A nasty little trap. Right? It has to be! Their luck can not be this good.

But it is. Because bottom feeders find each other all the time. Lairs that have little to offer and Ghosts who couldn't possibly defend anything worth keeping. All the Zone is stronger then them, why not be weakling together?

And they always take the chance. Because hope is eternal.

Inching forward in a cautious float, ready to dash away, they eventually realize the Lair really IS up for grabs. It really CAN be theirs. Which of course... means they have to fix it up of course! They are THRILLED. Look at all this ROOM! Why, these trees are LOVELY. A good start! They just gotta tweak THIS and then THAT aaand... there we go! Oooh, now over THERE would be a great place for a- *excited muttering*

And a proper ghost? MUCH better at bringing in Ectoplasm then a blob. Then dive in and out, fetching plants to transplant, decorations, building supplies. They invite their friend to crash with them. Become roommates. Their roommate gets a partner. They meet someone. Eventually somebody has a kid. And so on and so on.

All the while, they are feeding their Lair. Do they know it's not a NORMAL Lair? Yeah. They aren't dumb. Blobs disappear sometimes, if no one leaves for too long. House ghosts don't do that (or so they're told). But? They aren't powerful ghosts. They are weak ones. They CAN'T defend one of the nice spots from jerks who want to take it.

But a Lair that can defend ITSELF? And doesn't seem to want to eat them? Meh. Whatever works, man.

And you know what happens? Eventually, you reach a sustainable mass tipping point. Enough ghosts, set up in houses and cabins and castles and caves. All within a single Trap Lair. That they radiate enough ectoplasm to sustain the Lair itself. Enough that it can FINALLY pull the infamous and legendary "never leave" trick.

What is that trick?

Simple! You are a ghost. You'd kinda like an apple. You get up to leave you Lair to go get one. Oh, hey, an apple tree! That's new. Oh, these are really good! You sit back down. You never leave. Why would you leave? You are happy and have everything here. Your friends and family are here. Have another cake. Sit back down.

That is the trick.

The Trap of the sort of Trap Door.

They are known as Honey Traps. Heaven's Gates. Dream Doors. And they build slow to become quite dangerous. Entire cities exsist inside them. Ghosts go in and never come out. The take the energy you produce, small kernel that it is, and feed it back to you. And Ghosts? Efficient generators that they are, produce far more then they are given. Little into more. Little into greater. Building and building.

Until it has the strength to weave dreams.

Trap and entice. Blind and numb you. Bread and circuses for the masses, pay no attention to the bars that keep you here. You LOVE the comfort of your cage! You can leave whenever you want! You just never want too.

The Lair makes certain of that.

@the-witchhunter @hypewinter @hdgnj @mutable-manifestation

[doctorprofessorsong]

More Destiel Fic Recs

Feast of the Assumptions by Amazonia_8 (Explicit, 19k)

I haven't laughed as hard at a fic since A Room of One's Own. When Dean agrees to host Thanksgiving despite his culinary skills beginning and ending at grilling a burger, he turns to the experts: a help hotline hosted by one of the turkey companies.

But he gets more than he bargained for when its Cas that takes his call. Before you can say butterball, Dean finds himself craving the enticing voice on the other end. But when have family holidays ever gone smoothly?

As I said, this fic is absolutely hilarious. I consumed it in a night, laughing hard enough to wake up my kid.

The Elevator Game by bexgowen, xfancyfranart @motherofdragonflies (Explicit, 88k)

A choose-your-own-adventure case fic must I even go on?? I will though. The fic is a thoroughly intense romp based on am urban legend. Your choices can lead you down any number of paths. Can you get everyone out alive and safe?

The fun of this fic is in part to read it over and over to see the subtle changes Your decisions make, but it's also a fun case standing alone. The other world is delightfully atmospheric and setting it in the divorce arc adds an extra layer of tense angst. It's a good time (for the reader, the guys go through it)

Salt and Rosemary by tiamatv (Explicit, 31k)

An ancient curse is coming for Dean - the result of a deal his mother made to save his father. On his 24th birthday, the curse will take his breath away. But Dean isn't going to take that lying down, especially because Sam will be faced with the same curse in a few years. So instead, Dean binds the curse, Castiel to him. But maybe the curse is exactly what Dean needed after all.

First of all, Curstiel is a delight so jot that down. He's dramatic and petulant and adorable. When you combine that with Stanford era Dean feels, the two of them make an unbeatable combination.

Despite some dark themes, this fic is so sweet and soft. It's an unconventional love story, but Dean and Cas are just deeply adorable in this fic. I found myself grinning at how cute they were.

The Crawling Dark by SylvanFreckles @sylvanfreckles (Teen, 16k)

Spooky season may be over, but now we are in family gathering and work event season which is the true horror. So if you find a need for a thriller as a break, this one has you. 

A simple case fic, Dean and Cas investigate some missing hikers and uncover a new and terrifying creature.

This fic delivers a pulse pounding atmosphere with the claustrophobia of caves and the knowledge that something brutal is lurking in the dark.

To counteract that is a softness in Dean and Cas who are together but haven't yet had sex, and who are extremely attuned and affectionate. 

Ungod by AmberXBoone, rezal @corrupt-touch (Explicit, 58k)

Some delicious blasphemy to keep you warm on those cold winter nights. Dean hates his job as an attorney (relatable) and especially hates his current case representing corrupt priests who have been stealing from parishioners.

That is until he realizes the one night stand he can't stop thinking about is one of the priests. Now he finds himself recklessly crossing ethical lines he can't bring himself to care about. 

But how far will the corrupt priests go to protect themselves? 

This one is a little bit thriller/mystery, but also a lot of horny, soft and sweet fun. Dean and Cas have a great dynamic (a profound bond even) and it's impossible not to root for them.

This Tainted Love You've Given by LazarusRose @lazarus-rose (Explicit, 17k)

This Stabfest fic has the most delightfully unhinged concept. Dean, a serial killer, meets a cute guy, hooks up with him, and then murders him. A regular night out.

Until his one night stand shows up at his door. Turns out Cas is an immortal witch now convinced he and Dean are meant to be. And, well, a serial killer and an immortal who can be killed just might be a pretty epic match. 

These two are so delightfully unhinged and weird. It's a great concept done well. 

This Blade for Hire by FriendofCarlotta @friendofcarlotta (Explicit, 20k)

Come for the really delightful adjacent take on the lore, stay for some delicious rare pair femslash. This stabfest fic gives the gays (me) everything they want.

Dean, Sam and Ava are a team. They hunt demons for a bounty from the angels with the help of Sam and Ava's special powers. Sure the angels are dicks, but the money's good and fuck demons.

Well, Dean made an exception for one angel, Cas. His lover and contact with Heaven. But Cas has disappeared without a word. So maybe he's a dick too.

But when Dean and Ava get tasked with hunting down Meg Masters, things get…complicated 

The Man in the Rock by FriendofCarlotta @friendofcarlotta (Explicit, 7k)

Another stabfest and another FriendofCarlotta (overachiever xoxo), this little fic packs a hell of a punch. It's beautiful and devastating and soft.

Ever since he lost his partner, Cas, five years ago, Dean has struggled to figure out what shape his life should take. But he's finally decided it's time to remove the monument to his grief - a giant statue of Cas that sits in his garden. But when he makes one last desperate wish, will that same monument give him the very thing he's been dreaming of?

[gwenllian-in-the-abbey]

To piggyback off of @shunnedmorlock's post here about the relative justification for both the black and green causes, and how the show presents Rhaenyra's cause as sympathetic.

The in-world choice of who to support in an internecine conflict is, for a lot of lords, ultimately going to be based in self-interest rather than legal, ideological or moral justifications. This fandom fixates a lot on who is in the "right," but the houses that throw their support behind Rhaenyra or Aegon mainly do it for self interest or self preservation. Every lord is going to have multiple literal dragons breathing down their necks, many lords are going to be offered enticements from one side or the other, and some will be considering their own personal circumstances and the precedent their choice sets. A great number of the houses seem pretty determined to stay out of the conflict altogether, even several of the houses that pledge their support in theory, wait until the risk of being caught up in a dragon battle has passed to take any action.

For viewers, our reasons for supporting one side or another are different. Strictly speaking, looking at things from a modern framework, no one has a "right" to the throne. Usurpation is not a human rights violation or even a crime by our standards. Imagine fixating on women being unable to own slaves and thinking that a woman fighting for her right to do so is an expression of feminism. Ridiculous! Certainly it is bullshit within an already bullshit system that a woman comes after her brothers in a hereditary monarchy, but in a just system this conflict wouldn't exist in the first place, not because Rhaenyra would automatically be queen, but because Westeros wouldn't have a king or a queen at all. Liberation doesn't start at the top and trickle down, but rather the opposite.

That said, to modern viewers, Rhaenyra's cause is sympathetic because it feels like an injustice. Most of us don't live within a feudal system and do not have the framework to understand why it's not a form of oppression to be denied the throne. We see it more like a presidential race, in which Rhaenyra is the Hillary Clinton who might have defeated Trump in 2016 if not for misogyny, in which even if we didn't particularly like her, we were disgusted by the fact that that man beat a woman who was at worst no different from many of the men who had occupied the seat before her. To the average vaguely liberal American watching the show, it's insane for fans to support Aegon and the greens and clearly you'd only do it for horny or antifeminist reasons. And you see that a bit in even the showrunners' comments on Alicent being a "woman for Trump," how both they and much of the audience fail to fully understand the historical framework, but in a way that's kind of understandable, because while what happens to Rhaenyra might not be injustice, it is unfair.

If you're looking at things from a historical in-world framework, this is a world in which stability takes a higher priority than equality. Inequality is everywhere, completely baked into the system. If you want to bring about gender equality in a feudal monarchy with a large agrarian population, you have to have first the stability necessary for the rise of an urban middle class which allows for more women to move into the trades, you need the printing press for widespread literacy, which means that more women are getting educated, you need movements such as the reformation to challenge the divine right of kings, and you need to reform the political structure so that leadership is not based on birthright in the first place, because that concept inherently reinforces patriarchal norms even in modern countries that allow women to become queens regnant. So making one woman queen is not going to make things better for women across Westeros, but that woman going to war to reclaim her "stolen" birthright could make things a whole lot worse for a pretty much everyone. This is why you see a lot of history nerds on this site going well, yes but Rhaenyra does have the weaker claim because common law was a big deal in the medieval world and her becoming queen is going to lead to long term succession crises due to the circumstances of her children's birth, so the thing to do would be to take the peace deal. Because while on an emotional level you can understand why she doesn't, it's not the choice that prioritizes the good of the realm.

I think on some level Condal understands (and I think GRRM probably hammered this point home) that you can't really grant anyone the moral high ground in a war of succession if you want to approach the issue with any level of nuance; Rhaenys' speech in the previews for S2 seems to indicate as much. The problem with HotD is that it wants to have its cake and eat it too. It wants to say war for the throne bad, but HBO also wants to make up for the way GoT fumbled the ball with Dany and give the people their likeable dragonriding princess triumphant.

Except Rhaenyra isn't triumphant, she is felled by her own Targaryen hubris and belief that nothing could possibly overcome the might of dragons. It's not Aegon that defeats her, truly, it's the people emboldened in various ways to act against Targaryen interests. It's the dragonseeds she hands dragons to who wonder why they have to take orders from a queen or king when they have control of the kingmaking weapons of mass destruction, it's the smallfolk who face down dragons with pitchforks because they've had enough. They've backed themselves into a bit of a corner with what @shunnedmorlock called the "engoodening" of the black faction, but they can turn it around by showing that it's not enough to be nice to your family, you have to actually care about the people and at the very least (the bar is on the floor, it's fuedalism!) not throw them into chaos, famine, and war for no reason. Give us payoff for Rhaenys' dragonpit scene, have Mysaria and Alys Rivers play a role in their sides' downfalls, show how resentment on Dragonstone allows Aegon to infiltrate. And yes, show Rhaenyra losing herself and becoming a worse person, but in ways that the audience can't excuse as justified. This is how you sow the seeds for that actual progressive change that people seem so desperate to find in the dragonshow, you show how the Dance emboldens the regular people who for the first time realize they can slay dragons, dovetailing into the new show, which stars Dunk, a commonborn man from Fleabottom, and Aegon V, the only Targaryen who ever cared about the smallfolk.

Can HBO pull it off? Ehh. But I remain eternally hopeful, against my better judgement.

[russett-pots]

The New Girl

Baek Jiheon

Tags: pussy-eating, deepthroat, creampie

Words: 3.9k+

Sorry for the delay. Worked on this for some time.

You walk down the pathway outside your college building. It hasn’t been long since your arduous class from your advanced math and thermodynamics class. But it’s now your break and you just wanted to go to the vending machine and maybe buy a drink or some ice cream.

Just insert the bill then choose your item then out rolls your ice-cold treat. But then you feel a tap on your shoulder.

“Excuse me, sir?” A girl with a brown sweater and crop top approaches you.

You turn around and open your treat. “Yes?”

“Sorry to disturb you but do you know where the science building is?”

“Ah— just take a straight and go right then it should be in front of you.”

“Okay. Thank you.” She bows to you.

You bow to her back then just return to your ice cream. You enjoy it as you go to your class. Your day goes by, going to endless classes. Each lecture is getting more and more boring but you have to endure it. 

Now it is already 3 pm. But you still have one more class but it is at 6 pm. So you go to the library to do some studying to burn some time. You head to the building then up the elevators, scan your ID to get in then ride the escalators to the seventh floor.

Over in the corner is your usual spot and there you swoop down and take it before anyone else can take it. There you plop down your bag, bring out your study material and just spend the next two and a half hours combing from your last class and ready yourself for the test next week.

You review all the material you covered in your last class, going through all the formulas and concepts. It’s almost your next class but your phone vibrates.

“Class canceled. See you next week. Enjoy your weekend.”

Ah, well time to go, I guess.

You pack up all your stuff and walk out of the library and to the canteen. Your stomach is growling for some food since lunch. You barely had anything in between. Only a small sandwich. The canteen is across the campus so it’s a long walk. But today is a nice day to go out. Nice cool weather coupled with a clear sky and a slight breeze.

But anyway, dinner is near and you’re starving. Inside there is a long line already but from what you can tell the food is good. The aroma is enticing. The food options are great. 

Beef stew? Kimchi Stew?

Then that doesn’t include the side dishes that this particular canteen is known for. Finally, it’s your turn on the line. You pick up the tray and go through the counter and get everything you can. You’re starving and you know it. When you come to the register you pull out your food stubs and it should be enough to pay for your food.

You go to an empty table in the canteen and start diving into your food. Just casually eating your food, observing your surroundings. Then you see her again, the same girl that asked you for directions. She looks like she’s lost but still orders her food. 

You look at her. She just goes around and sees the packed canteen then she sees you with your empty table. She’s hesitant for a second but then shyly walks to you.

“Excuse me? Can I sit here?”

You scoot over and leave her a place to sit. “No problem”. Showing a smile

She eats her food quietly, barely making eye contact with you. Even with avoiding seeing you.

You turn to her. “Okay, let me introduce myself to you. Hi! I’m Parkin.” As you extend your hand.

She shakes it while taking a sip of her milk. “My name is Jiheon. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you? Haven’t we met before?”

“Ugh sorry. Oh! You remember?! Sorry, I’m just a freshman.”

“Oh, you’re a freshman?!”

“Argh, quiet down. I don’t like people knowing.”

You chuckle. “It’s fine. Hey, want me to give you a tour? So you won’t get lost again.”

Jiheon checks her watch. “Is it alright with you? I don’t want to disturb you.”

“It’s alright. It’s almost the weekend. Hurry up, finish your food so we can get going.”

Once you are done with your food. You leave the canteen and start the tour, going around the different buildings around the campus. She seems comfortable around you and clings to you as you bring her around.

“Okay let me show you one of my favorite places on the campus.”

“Are you going to show me your favorite sleeping spot?” She playfully asks

“No!...yes….Anyway, here we are.”

You get inside the glass doors.

“Okay let’s take the elevators. Unless you wanna walk seven floors?”

“Okay, I had enough exercise walking around…”

“… and getting lost?”

“Ya!”

“Hey, I’m just kidding.”

The elevator arrives. You and Jiheon enter and the typical people arrive. People pretend to text someone even if there is no signal inside, students with books in their hands ready for the study session they’ll have, and lastly, the one with earphones with too loud music so everyone inside can hear what he is listening to.

The elevator stops on each floor that the others want to get off. Then lastly when it is just you and Jiheon left in the elevator. 

It is already on the top floor. You gesture to Jiheon that you have arrived. It is your favorite area to do your business. First, there is the table where you normally do your studying. The studying you just did before going for dinner. 

Then Jiheon points out to the couch on the side. “Is this your sleeping area?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.” You sigh. “But! The aircon is nice. You have a good place to rest your head and there aren’t a lot of people that pass by. Perfect place.”

Jiheon turns back to the elevator. “Shouldn’t you be studying?”

“Ya! Sometimes I just…”

“Need to rest?” She chuckles. “I’m just kidding.”

You head back down the elevators and exit back to the outdoors. Now you give a tour around the campus about the buildings.

“So, what’s your major?” You ask.

“Child development.”

“Well, there is the education building over there. You might have most of your classes there.”

“Here is my building, engineering. On the first floor, there are these labs with heavy machinery. Over there is the Liberal Arts building. It has a lot of labs for media stuff. I don’t know…”

“Really? Like what do they have?”

“Like tv stations, many computer labs and such. Oh, here is one of the canteens. Most of them are student-owned food stalls.”

“So, what’s that building?”

“That’s the international male dorm building. I stay there.”

“Oh, you’re an international student? You look Korean.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot. I’m just Chinese. I actually have a scholarship. That’s how I got here. If it weren’t for that maybe I wouldn’t have been here.”

“Well, that’s nice.”

Now finally you reach the sports facilities.

“Now this is the building where you can see the pool, badminton, basketball, and volleyball courts. There is also a table tennis area.”

“Oh really? I used to play before in high school.”

“We can use them as long as no classes are going on.”

Jiheon runs to the windows. “Is that the oval and the football field?”

“Yup! Sometimes we have rallies there. Also, there’s another place.”

You lead her to another part of the school. There is the amphitheater. A large venue with a large area for an audience with a stage as well.

“Here we usually host our festivals. Like the cheer team would do their performances here.”

“Ohhh that’s cool. When’s the festival?”

“Later this term You’ll see.”

You turn to her. It’s already early in the evening. But Jiheon’s eyes are shining. They are glistening like the stars in the night sky. She turns to you. Her eyes now smile as she sees you. Her beauty is ethereal. You never noticed until now to see how pretty she is. At that moment you already fell for her.

You look away coolly. On the top of the amphitheater is a hill overlooking the city.

“Follow me.” You take her with you and bring her to the edge. There you can see the skyline. It is about to turn dark with the sunset in the distance. “I actually never went to Seoul. During the holidays I go to my hometown and the only thing I have been doing is studying, studying, studying. I never really got the chance to go to the city.”

Jiheon gets surprised. “Then let me take you down there. You’ll love it. Tomorrow is the weekend, right? We have plenty of time. This time I’ll tour you around.” She turns to you but instead of a smile and looks at you with determination.

“We can do that tomorrow.” You calm down Jiheon.

“So what do you want to do now?”

“Relax.” You head to the bench and take a seat. “I love the view. Can we just stay here for a while?”

Jiheon sits beside you. “I think the view is beautiful.”

“Like you?” You blurted out randomly.

“What?” Jiheon whispers to you.

“Uhhh….I mean that everyone is beautiful. Like you?”

“Be honest with me.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you like me?”

“Yeah…..”

“Well, I think I like you too…”

“Then if you don’t mind me.” You touch her chin and pull it closer to you for a kiss. A kiss that would start a warm feeling in your heart.

She leans back but still with your hand on her chin. “That feels good.”

“Good? Just good?” You ask.

“Okay, I have to admit. It was amazing.”

“It’s getting late. I think I have to go.”

“Can you drop me off at my apartment?”

“Sure…sure.”

You get off the top of the hill and walk down the stairs of the amphitheater and back down to the main road.

“So, Jiheon?”

“Hmmm.”

“Where did you go to high school?”

“High school? My school is called idol school. It’s an art school.”

“Really?”

“You don’t know? Well, some popular alumni are idols there. Like Lee Saerom and Jang Gyuri. I was even friends with Gyuri. We’re pretty close.”

“Oh, that’s cool. So you’re friends with celebrities?”

“I wouldn’t say, friends. It’s hard being friends with celebrities. But we can manage.”

Soon you leave campus and head to the subway station. Jiheon shows you how to get your transport card. She puts you on the train then it goes off.

“Woah, where I’m from we don’t have something this nice.”

“It’s easy to go around in the city.”

It’s already rush hour and it’s Friday. Good thing that you and Jiheon are able to find a place to sit together. The station goes on and each stop lets people off and brings people in. But you and Jiheon quietly sit down and wait until the end of the line.

As soon as the train stops, Jiheon pulls you with her and rushes through the turnpikes and up to the surface. She walks with you around the streets to her apartment.

“Wow, Jiheon, you live far from school.”

“Far? Well if you live in the dorms. Everywhere is far.”

“Shut up!”

Jiheon chuckles. “Anyway, here I am.”

You look up at the building then your stomach growls.

“You hungry?” Jiheon asks.

“I guess dinner wasn’t enough.”

“Come up. I’ll make you some ramen.”

You follow her up to her apartment. She looks nervous as you walk up the stairs. But she tries to remain calm. Slow and sure that she can get to the door and open it for you.

“Where’s your roommate?” You ask.

“Oh, she won’t be on campus until next week. She’s still on vacation or something.” Jiheon waves off before going to the kitchen to boil the water.

You also go to the kitchen and rest your arms on the countertop. “So, what’s on the menu?”

Jiheon opens the cabinet and pulls out two ramen packs. “Shin or Jin?”

“Shin. Can you handle the spice?”

‘Of course!” Jiheon replies. She returns the Jin ramen and picks out another pack. When the water starts to boil, Jiheon opens the pack and places the noodles, soup base, and vegetable flakes in the pot.

“Just wanna ask” Jiheon turns to you. “You like going to girls’ apartments when they’re alone?”

You get taken back. “Uhhh….not necessarily. I mean you offered ramen and I like ramen.”

“Okay.” Jiheon turns back to the pot. “Wel I haven’t invited boys up in my room before. If you’re wondering.” Her head looks at you and winks at you.

Not long after, the ramen finishes cooking. Jiheon puts the ramen in a big bowl and takes out two pairs of chopsticks and two smaller bowls. 

“Come with me. You like views, right?”

You help her with bringing the food. She takes you upstairs to the roof and outside is a view of the city. Maybe as grand as the hill but is still something you adore. Jiheon quickly sets up a table and a couple of chairs. 

Both of you eat the ramen as you admire the view.

“Jiheon, let’s speak casually. You can call me Oppa if you want.”

“Really?”

Jiheon smiles then same eyes again. “Oppa, there is something on your face.” She takes out her handkerchief and wipes off the small drip of soup on your face. Your eyes are locked on to hers. Yet she focuses on whipping your face. Her cheeks are so fluffy, and you want to touch them. Her face is so gentle you want to play with them.

Once you are done with your ramen, you stand and walk to the edge. With your hands in your pockets and your focus is on the view. You take a deep breath and admire the view. Jiheon comes over. You clasp your hands together and try to make yourself warm. Even if it is spring the temperature is still low.

Jiheon takes your hand and gives you her hand warmer. But instead, you hold her hand. You look at her. She looks back at you. Your heart is racing like it is running a marathon. You can see she is as nervous as you. You cannot handle it anymore.

“Why bother waiting?” You use your hand to hold her cheek and kiss her on the lips.

She takes in your kiss and leans back to pull you down to a deck chair. There she is making out with you. Her kiss is amazing. Never had you ever experienced something so gentle yet firm. Her lips are soft and plump, something that you can say you enjoy.

“Oppa, I like you but are you going to do it?”

“Well if you want?”

“I want. But not here. It’s too cold.”

You pull her up but continue to kiss her. A back and forth petting of each other from the roof deck, down the stairs, and into Jiheon’s bedroom. You toss her in the bed and smack your lips on your meal.

She smiles back at you while she swiftly takes off her top. You do the same after removing each button from your shirt. Now with yourself topless and showing off your body, you get down and slowly remove Jiheon’s pants. You remove the button and pull it down. Now the only thing left on her is her underwear.

Impatient, Jiheon removes her panties. Now in front of you is a naked Jiheon. You can see her unshaven pussy.

“You don’t shave?”

“What?!” Jiheon gets embarrassed. “Should I be?” Her cheeks become red.

“Well, I’m not. So don’t worry.”

Jiheon leans her head back on the bed and gets relieved.

So now you get back onto your snack. You first lick on the slit. The one that parts flesh. You insert your middle finger first, slowly pushing in and out. Your tongue joins my playing with her clit. This combination becomes more intense and since it becomes more intense. Jiheon starts to moan. Then it becomes louder and louder. A surge of pleasure waves over Jiheon.

She grabs onto your hair as it becomes more intense. You play more and more. Sweat forms on Jiheon’s face. It is hard for her to handle it. More and more unstoppable stimuli push Jiheon to the limit. Now she is shouting, screaming profanities about how good you are.

“Fuck! Oppa! Fuck! You’re so goooood……”

You are silenced but instead of trying to reply you go back down and eat out to your heart’s content.

It becomes so much. It becomes so hard for Jiheon to handle. She has to grab onto your hair and pull it towards her. The pain in your head doesn’t bother you but instead, it is an encouragement for you to do more.

“Oppa! Fuck it is going to….”

Too late. Before Jiheon can say anything. All of her cum spewed all over your face. Each squirt runs to your face. Then it trickles down her legs. It tastes sweet. A sweet taste of victory.

Jiheon looks down at you. Her hair is messed up, all over the place.

“Jiheon-ah. You like it?”

“I fucking love it. Now.” She gets up and switches positions with you after pushing you onto the bed.

“Oppa. Now tell me. Are you going to like this?”

Like what you did. First, she peels off the underwear then she sees your large girthy cock. Something that she would have never thought anyone can be packing. She gets shocked and ducks down. “Jeeez that’s huge.”

You smile in confidence. “Well, what can I say? I can make any girl pleased.”

But Jiheon gets mesmerized. Sure it is big but it is large enough that she becomes curious. She gently strokes it. “I know it can get big but I have never seen it this big.”

You squint your eyes and look down at her. “I’m above average I guess.”

“Above average? You’re huge.” She still transfixes it. “Anyway, let me play with you.”

She goes back to your shaft. Then she strokes it. First, slowly then it becomes faster. Her cold hand is bringing a feeling of pleasure. 

Soon after, her tongue joins, First with the tip, one of the most sensitive parts. Then she moves from the base to the top. While this happens her right hand is still stroking your cock. Suddenly you feel this sensation on your balls. It is Jiheon’s left hand playing with it.

The combination of these three actions brings your euphoria. The tongue, each hand is enough for you to start moaning. The pleasure receptors are receiving stimuli that no girl has ever given you.

“Jiheon, you’re so good.” You moan.

She pops her head from your cock. “I seem to know everything about this cock—“

All of a sudden, you push Jiheon down on your cock. It is instinctive. You didn’t know you did it but it just happened. But you didn’t stop. You didn’t let go. But instead, you push her further. The deepthroating feels even better than her blowjob. 

Jiheon doesn’t stop. She doesn’t want to let go. She is handling it like she is enjoying it as well. You let go but she is still on your cock. She is still erupting saliva. It gets all over your crotch. What after feels like an eternity, Jiheon let go of herself from you.

“Damn Jiheon, I didn’t know you can handle that.”

“What do you mean? I love this. I never thought I’d love this.”

“Let’s have fun now.”

You pick her up and toss her on the bed. You position her ass in front of you. Her smooth buttocks are now in front of you. You give it a good slap before you use your tip to drag a line from her asshole to her pussy lips.

Even from this, Jiheon can feel a small flash of pleasure, your tip on her pussy.  Then you slowly insert your length in her. Slowly at first, you push it all the way deep into her. Your crotch is touching her ass. It is a perfect fit. Then it is all the way in. Her walls are so tight and it is so ready for you.

Then you slowly pull out but do not go all the way. When you reach half, you go back to it. This is how you are going to play with her. The repetitive action is now playing with you. You pull and push it faster and faster. You get in faster and faster.

This makes Jiheon and you moan louder and louder. You never expect something with a girl to be this nice, especially with a girl like Jiheon. She gives you immense pleasure. Your veiny cock is now penetrating at the deepest points. Her pussy is lubricating your cock. This allows you to move even faster and faster.

Louder and louder you shout. Jiheon is already screaming profanities again.”

“Fuckig hell, oppa. Please do more. I want more of your cock.”

You give her more. More and more you give her. Your cock runs deep in her. She is handling it like a champ. She is taking it all.

You flip her around. You lie down on the bed and she starts to ride on you. You are tired from all your thrusting. Now it is Jiheon’s turn to lead.

She goes slowly at first, moving forward, left, and right. Your cock goes all around her walls. Then she starts to move up and down. He uses her legs to dictate the pace, slow at first then he goes however she wants and she wants more. She wants a lot. She moves faster and faster.

Her breasts start to jiggle. You get up and start sucking on them. Her tiny nipples. Your mouth is on her left and your hand is on her right. Then you start to kiss her. Tongues are connecting. You grope her ass. It is as soft as her breasts, perfect for you. 

“Jiheon, I’m going to cum.” These five words come out of your mouth.

“Fuck cum inside.”

“Aren’t you going to get pregnant?”

“Just do it. We’ll deal with it later.”

You would love a cream pie. But you would expect Jiheon to want one either. So you just follow her instructions. She then moves at a faster pace. You grunt and grunt. Your moans now fill the room but are still not as loud as Jiheon's. 

Then you burst. All of your cum runs inside Jiheon. You shoot inside the deepest parts of her womb. Round after round you cum in her. Once you signal you are done, Jiheon sits up and gets out of your shaft. You can see the leaking cum from her cunt.

“You sure you won’t get pregnant.”

“Don’t worry I have a plan.” She falls beside you.

You kiss her one more time. “Jiheon, how can an innocent person like you can be so good in bed?”

She turns to you. “Well, looks can be deceiving, and aren’t you happy that I’m this good? I’m happy you are.”

You lean back. “Yeah, you can say so.”

You go to sleep while hugging her. It can say it is aftercare. Some nice cuddles after such intense sex.

“Night, Jiheon.”

“Love you oppa.”

“Love you too.”

~~

Now it is the next morning. The space beside you is empty. You are still naked from last night's events. After scanning for your pants, you put it on and head out of the bedroom.

Outside is Jiheon. She is preparing a couple of sandwiches.

“Oppa, come here. We can have a picnic.”

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

Happy Valentines Day!!

I've been prepping this oneshot since the first, I'm super excited to finally share it!

Mary has had an epiphany.

It hits them on the Monday before Valentines Day, in the Great Hall. For once, the 14th is falling on a Hogsmeade Saturday, and it's wreaking havoc in the castle. People are asking each other out left right and centre, the prospect of a Hogsmeade date being much too enticing to pass up. Especially for the seventh years. Lily's already talking about who she's going on ask, and it's looking more and more like it's going to be James. Mary isn't all that bothered about Valentines Day, to be honest, but everyone else is, and they think that's quite cute.

At breakfast, everyone watches Valentine after Valentine landing in front of people, and as they watch another cross the table, they catch a glimpse of Remus' face. His eyes follow the owl with an expression that Mary can only describe as wistful. It throws them for a moment. Remus hasn't shown an interest in this sort of thing before. Still, there's absolutely no other explanation for Remus' expression.

That man is a hopeless romantic.

A hopeless romantic without a date. Yeah, that absolutely can't do. Mary can care about Valentines Day for a bit, if they need to find Remus a date. They're going to make sure Remus ends up on a date if it kills them.

They decide to float the concept later that day. The common room is practically empty, Remus and Mary the only ones with free lessons. They've been working in a comfortable silence, with Mary asking the occasional question about the homework they're both completing. It's the perfect time to ask.

"So, Valentines Day's on a Hogsmeade weekend," they say calmly, not looking up from their essay.

"Oh, yeah, I thought I'd heard that," he answers. It's a pretty obvious lie. Remus Lupin has never been a liar, that much is clear.

"Have you thought about asking anyone?" They glance up just in time to watch Remus' shoulders tense. Opening their mouth, they go to respond, but Mary is not about to let them deny anything. "Oh, you have, haven't you?" Remus' face promptly starts to flush, and a smile finds its way onto Mary's face. "Right, I'm finding you a date," they say decisively, and Remus' eyes widen, glancing up at them. He starts to speak hurriedly, but Mary's heard all that they need to hear.

"That's okay, I honestly don't-"

"Nope, it's happening," they hold up their hand as they interject. "You deserve a Valentine, Remus. I'm finding you someone."

Perfect, now they just need to find the right person.

They spend the first few days mulling over their options. Remus is more popular than he gives himself credit for. It shouldn't be difficult to find him a date.

Shouldn't be.

"How about Hestia?" They ask on Wednesday, dropping down in front of Remus. For a moment, he seems taken aback, confused. As the realisation dawns on him, his face drops. Okay, he's not impressed, then.

"Uh... for what?" James asks, confused.

"Nothing, Prongs," Remus interjects quickly, before turning back to Mary. "No, not Hestia."

"Why?" They huff. Hestia's perfect for Remus! He just shoots her a look and goes back to eating.

Okay, someone else, then.

As it turns out, Remus is picky as fuck. Mary suggests Amelia, Emma, Georgia, all in the span of two days, and gets absolutely nothing. They're honestly starting to lose hope. They mention it to Lily and Marlene on Thursday evening.

"I'm not sure who to set him up with next! Nobody seems to be right for him!" They groan, not catching that Sirius has tuned into their conversation.

"Hey, Mary?" Sirius speaks up quickly, and they turn to face him. "You're talking about Saturday, right?" They nod, and Sirius' eyes widen almost invisibly. "I didn't realise he wanted a date for Saturday."

"It's written all over his face. Have you not seen him watching the Valentines like he'd kill to be asked to Hogsmeade?"

"Yeah, I have, but I- I asked him, he said he didn't really care," Sirius says, and it looks like Mary's blown his mind.

Huh. That's interesting.

"Remus isn't just going to admit that he wants something like this," Lily steps in seamlessly. "He does, though. I managed to get that out of him."

"Oh, thank fuck," Sirius says with a sigh, a relieved smile finding its way onto his face. With that, he disappears from the common room, heading straight for the boys dorms.

Well, that's odd.

It doesn't take long to find out what it's all about, though.

They're all at breakfast the next morning when the owl arrives. Mary is playing around with a few more names, deciding between keeping trying to set Remus up with someone or just accepting defeat. Then, an owl swoops in with a single marigold flower, dropping it in front of Remus. He picks it up, stunned, but it's quickly replaced by another. Another. Before any of them know what has happened, there's a stack of flowers in front of Remus. Eyes are stuck on him and, after a moment, Remus looks up. His eyes fix on one person, sitting beside him, like he knows exactly who did this.

Sirius.

Their eyes meet, and Sirius smiles nervously.

"So... Saturday?" Is all he says, and Remus smiles back. He drops the flower and laces their fingers together, as he nods quickly. "I was worried you'd hate Valentines, and I'd look like a prat," Sirius admits with a relieved laugh, which just prompts Remus to move his free hand into Sirius' hair and connect their lips.

Oh.

Okay, that makes much more sense.

[wordsbyvani]

König watches an aerial artist... that's all.

He didn’t want to be here. 

An art museum is no place for someone like König. He’s only here for some charity banquet-show with his company as a museum benefactor. Just so happens that he has a high-ranking position and was chosen to represent them for tonight’s event. Usually he can push feelings aside when it comes to work—a routine with which he’s become all too familiar—but this is different.

He likens himself to a bull in a china shop: one wrong move and delicacy shatters around him. Surrounded by hundreds, if not thousands, of pieces that are the epitome of elegance and meaning. Sure, he knows the meanings and concepts behind the works, can recognize the finery. But it’s the opposite of all that he is: rough, brazen, vulgar. Somehow, pictures in frames, sleek statues, and the refined viewers gracing the halls make him feel as though he’s a laughing stock of sorts. All eyes, be they crafted or alive, are on the giant bathing in blood and souls.

Yes, there are pieces depicting violence, war, despair. But it’s too sophisticated, too dignified. The crimson doesn’t smell metallic, doesn’t pool at his feet. The figures don’t scream and wail and hurl curses, faces twisted with disdain. Perhaps scenes brought to life for the masses but dull for those who’ve lived them.

He rips himself away from the endless halls of mockery to take his seat before the show starts. The program shoved into his hands on the way in says something about an aerial artist—great, more art. An announcer beckons everyone to settle in; the show is about to begin. The lights hit, the spotlight on, and it rains red. And through a tidepool of scarlet and dramatic musical accompaniment, she is born.

Gliding on the wings of a phoenix, she turns to ashes as she spirals and twirls, only to grab the burning feathers of evanescence and propel herself up once more. A baby bird, naked and needy, morphs into a godlike inferno. Sparks, flames, colors. Determination. A cycle of death and rebirth unfolding before his very eyes, in the midst: her.

She morphs with the art around her. The dull works of elegance with which he just couldn’t resonate abandon stagnancy to dance all around; their colors, shapes, textures a tornado swirling to embody the main star of the show.

The musical accompaniment softens, and she stills—a phoenix no more. He recognizes only the underbelly of a black widow, dangling from pheromone-laced silk. Lustful eyes set a fixed gaze as she hangs, enticing him to partake readily.

If he accepted, would she strike? Paralyzed by venomous fangs, spinning, encased in the prison of her bloody trap. Or would she allow him to scale her web, ripping away the silks and traces of rivals as he climbed to reach her? Silently begging as he covers her body to let him consume, devour, before she has had her fill and disposes of him—his purpose served, a body needed no more. He would gladly accept such a fate for merely a taste.

Then she descends. Slowly, head thrown back in ecstasy, the silks creating ripples that cascade in a whirlpool around her. He restrains himself from reaching out, an arm that would tear the fabric from the rafters, waiting for her to fall into the welcome embrace of his arms and never let go.

The trance is broken when she touches the ground, the audience roaring with applause. A humble grin graces her face as she bows, waving and blowing kisses to her adoring spectators. For a brief moment, her eyes fall upon him, and something flickers. With a tilt of her head and curiosity in her eyes, her smile widens. A kiss is blown directly at him with a cheeky wink.

Perhaps he does enjoy fine art after all.

[greetingfromthedead]

Happy Trigun Fanfiction Appreciation Week!

While I encourage all the fantastic creators of this community, I just wanted to promote some of my lovely moots and other friends! ❤

While this includes ficrecs, you should definitely go and check out all their other work too! If you're at all into x Reader, you'll find plenty of lovely stuff on their blogs!

@jellys-compendium

Masterlist

💜My Papa (~1k words)

💜 Raiting: Everyone

💜 Pairing: Dad!Vash x reader, but it's mostly Vash being adorable with his kids

💜 Summary: A Cozy Dad!Vash Drabble. Vash tries to teach his two rambunctious twins a new word.

💜 Review: It is so friggin' cute! Vash being a dad is so adorable and if that's not enough to entice you to go read it, idk what will! It also inspired me to write my own Dad!Vash fic so that's something!

❤️ Lovebug (7.9k words)

❤️ Raiting: Explicit

❤️ Pairing: Sinister!Vash x f!Reader

❤️ Summary: You've been running for a long time, miraculously evading the destructive storm on your heels. But one fateful night you find yourself trapped and unable to escape the humanoid typhoon any longer. He'll make you regret running from him.

❤️ Review: It is so dark and so hot. Sweet god, it's like a Finnish sauna. Check the tags, but oml, it had be reeling.

@triplesilverstar

Masterlist

💜 A kiss in the rain (~0.3k words, but part of a much larger and fantastic series)

💜 Raiting: Everyone

💜 Pairing: Vash x f!Reader

💜 Summary: A rare occurrence happens on the desert planet.

💜 Review: This is adorable! A quick fluffy pick-me-up, but you should check out the rest of the "Of Bandits, Bullets, Ghosts, & Typhoons" series too!!!

❤️ A so called God on a mountain top? Well, better then freezing to death (~3k words, but there's a part 2!)

❤️ Raiting: Explicit

❤️ Pairing: God!Vash x f!Reader

❤️ Summary: You had gone to the area to learn about the local wildlife and the fauna. Sure the villagers were wary of outsiders, but you honestly hadn't expected to be drugged and tied to a slab on the mountaintop in nothing but a flimsy robe. So when a handsome blond stranger shows up claiming to be a God who are you to argue?

❤️ Review: This God!AU is fantastic! The smut is hot AF and Vash has feathers! What more do you need? This will have you hot and bothered in no time. And if you're like me, it will rot your brain too and inspire you to ponder your own take on the God!AU, it's just that good.

@novasintheroom

Masterlist

💜 A home for you and me (0.9k words, but part of the 150 Bullets drabble series)

💜 Raiting: Everyone

💜 Pairing: Vash x gn!Reader

💜 Summary: It's a new chapter in your lives and you both have to get used to the concept of actually having a home.

💜 Review: This is so cute and wholesome!!! Reader having zoomies is absolutely a mood and Vash is also so cute! This series is filled with such adorable stories!

❤️ Memories (0.7k words, but is part of the 150 Bullets drabble series)

❤️ Raiting: Everyone

❤️ Pairing: Vash x gn!Reader

❤️ Summary: Vash is plagued by unpleasant memories, but good thing you're there to be a shoulder to lean on.

❤️ Review: A bit angsty, but also so fluffy and wholesome like it should be! It's a great read and seeing into Vash's head is always such a wonderful experience in stories like this!

@bendycxmet

Masterlist

💜 Sleep Date (~1.2k words)

💜 Raiting: Everyone

💜 Pairing: Vash x gn!Reader

💜 Summary: Most of your and Vash's dates consist of getting cozy beneath the covers.

💜 Review: Really cute and fluffy! Who wouldn't want to try and crawl into his skin? So cuddly and sweet!

❤️ Crowd (~1.5k words)

❤️ Raiting: Everyone

❤️ Pairing: Wolfwood x gn!Reader

❤️ Summary: You watch as Wolfwood tries to find you in a crowd.

❤️ Review: This had be giddy and it has so many lovely descriptions. Wolfwood doesn't get enough love, but this makes up for it! It's super cute!

@vashs-turtleneck

Mastelist

💜 Stay (~0.4k words)

💜 Raiting: Everyone

💜 Pairing: Vash x gn!Reader

💜 Summary: Waking up the morning after next to your favorite travel companion.

💜 Review: It's a touch angsty, but mostly just cute fluff! A good wholesome read! Vash is just as cute as ever in this one!

❤️ Sharing is Caring (3.1k words)

❤️ Raiting: Explicit

❤️ Pairing: Vash x f!Reader x Wolfwood

❤️ Summary: You, Vash, and Wolfwood have a bit of a wild evening together.

❤️ Review: This is absolutely delicious! this fic will stay with you for a while and put dirty thoughts in your head long after you've finished reading it. It is so god damn hot. I mean you get a threesome with Vash and Wolfwood. What else is there to say???

If you've scrolled this far: Thank you for your attention! Please, go check out these fantastic creators and also all the other stuff under the tag #trigunfanficappreciation! This is a fantastic community with so many talented creators and artists! I'm sure everyone will find something they enjoy here!

If you enjoy what creators put out, please please please, show them some love! Comment, reblog and like! It motivates your favorites to keep writing and creating art! Thank you!

Thank you @trigunfanfic / @beelzebby666 for this event! ❤❤❤

[jamjaemin]

Better in person j.lee - teaser

pairings: idol model! Jeno lee x photographer! reader + mention of your friend photographer! Jaemin, idol model! Chenle (Jeno’s friend)

word count: 6.3k

warnings: mdi+18, penetrative sex, rough sex, use of pet names, pussy eating, creampies, edging, spanking, different sex positions, love bites, breeding kink, dirty talk, usage of master.

summary: the two handsome idols and models meet the famous photographer for a cover shoot. What happens when you catch Jeno’s eye?

The constant flash of cameras, the constant stress and rush of deadlines, and the constant presence of models and unreal people.

You were used to this constant experience of being a photographer for one of the most popular magazines in Korea. Being one of the most desirable photographers in Korea, due to your work for the magazine. With this, you were given the opportunity to work with several respected celebrities.

Along with that though, you were quite popular yourself and not for just photography. More specifically your looks. Many idols claimed they had a hard time focusing on the shoot when their photographer was so attractive. You always blushed or laughed away at their comments, trying to stay professional. But with all the glamorous people you worked with daily, sometimes that task became quite difficult. Especially the males.

Today, you sat in your photography studio all by yourself. There were no specific clients for the day, and the studio was empty. But you still decided to go to the studio today for some fun. You had a personal concept for a shoot and decided to do it today. It wasn’t your usual type of shoot but, you couldn’t help but be drawn to a different style.

Faint music played throughout the studio, setting the mood for the studio. The dim color of cool-toned lights filled the studio. Prop tables are set with several glimmering and colorful items. Along with several cameras set up at different angles. The array of makeup and hair products spread across the table.

You had everything set up, but for the specific plan you had this wouldn’t work out. You needed several angles for the shoot, but some of them couldn’t be done by a simple tripod or stand. You had to call up one of your photographer friends to assist you in this shoot. After much begging and pleading you finally got him to agree with you.

In the meantime, you had started getting ready for the shoot. Preparing with slicked hair, the swish of stray hairs, and accents of pearls and jewels. Lightly dewy makeup with several highlights and sparkles. All the details were perfect, making you look almost like a siren.

Perfectly on time, your friend arrived at your studio. Na Jaemin is also a very famous photographer that worked with you almost everyday, he was a bit surprised at your appearance but was enticed by the concept you proposed. Even mentioning some effects you could use. Such as water, the effect of a fan blowing...

The shoot continued perfectly, with many great photos coming out. Even if the floor was soaking wet with water. The studio was practically flooded, but it was worth it. Not to mention your friend, hyping you up behind the camera.

“ Yes, seduce me with your looks girl! “

"just like that, that's it!" jaemin said with his lazy deep tone taking so many photos.

All of his comments make you laugh or crack a smile. The shoot was full of playfulness and fantasy. You missed having fun shoots like these, and not just serious modeling shoots. Although through the fun, one of your managers stepped in.

“ Hey, whenever you can, wrap this up. Y/N is needed for a shoot in studio 3 “

I'll upload the full fic tomorrow or the day after, if anyone want to be tagged tell me don't be shy bye!♡

[galebrainrot2024]

Dekarios the Divine

Read on Ao3 | Path 3 | Master List

At long last! I am hoping to continue the God Gale series, this being the soft launch of Dekarios the Divine. Enjoy! :)

Summary: Picking up after Path 3, the reader follows Dekarios the Divine in his ascension and experience as a God. Angst, fluff, God Gale content ahead.

Word of Dekarios the Divine spread through Faerûn, scorching the earth as its tendrils hooked into mortal and immortal alike. Countless from across the sword coast whispered of the mortal who became God after felling the Absolute. The mortal who shook his fist to the skies and demanded more, and thus took it. Many did not believe - at first - but Galerian scripture was most enticing to be sure. It appealed to human emotion and temptation in ways many other Gods could not. The allure of what He offered was too expansive. 

These teachings spoke to those with lofty ambitions and they began to sculpt shrines, temples, and the like in His image. Ambition was as engrained in mortality as lust, love, and friendship. 

Ambition. 

Galerian scripture preached persistence, striving, and effort - to find the will to pursue the wildest dreams to make them a reality. Although the dust had yet to settle and Ao had yet to grant Him the ability to bestow powers among loyal followers, He knew the time would come as did they. They flocked like gulls to feed, desperate for the powers He would one day bestow.   

Many sought refuge in His teachings out of their own desperate need for more, for power, to achieve their sometimes impossible goals, and others because the tragedy of severe loss spoke to their weary souls. There was a somberness to him that spoke to the downtrodden, the hopeless, those wallowing in immeasurable grief. 

A tragic tale of life and loss because of a mortal’s, now God’s, hubris and folly. It appealed to to those who found solace in despair and hopelessness. He was the God of ambition, yes, and also one of mourning the cost of such greatness. 

Dekarios served as the somber warning to men and mortals across Faerûn of the immeasurable cost of unchecked ambition. 

What was it, to be a God? Gale was not the first mortal to rise to Godhood - Myrkle, Baahl, and Bane were once mortal men, too. Mystra herself was a mortal girl before she rose in Her image again. 

He thought often of how to explain this transition to human kind, to translate the complexities of ascension for his followers to comprehend. Their minds were so much simpler, finite, and the concepts required to even begin to grapple with Godhood were far beyond most mortal subjects. Even He had not fully understood before ascension. He thought he had, but as mortals insist they are right, He knew he would have to find an adequate translation. 

The closest comparison he arrived at was being born a fresh babe put up to solve complex algorithms against a grown mortal being. The mental capacity, the power, it would collapse the feeble human mind just as a grown adult would overpower a baby. 

There was no feeling. Memory as elusive as the mortal body he was once confined to, the sensations of humanity fading without so much as a murmur. 

He was among the first to have taken a mortal life at the moment of ascension. It shifted the balance of His essence, dooming to be off-kilter until wrongs could be righted. Some could never be so. 

Gods do not experience existence as mortals do, that is clear. Or, it should be. While mortals may fixate on one another’s quirks like the sound of their laugh, how how they furrow their brow as they concentrate, the act of and feeling the sensation of falling love, enjoying the simple pleasures of the warmth of the sun, a cool breeze, a fresh loaf of crusty bread… None of these held significance to the Gods for the triviality of mortals was not of or for them. 

Thus, things like regret and nostalgia were not experiences He had. There were memories, but when all of time and space is laid out before you ad infinitum, getting bogged down in simple happenings was wasteful. 

Gale saw this clearly now. Mystra was an unkind lover to him as a mortal because she had no conceptual understanding of being one, their fleeting emotions and turbulent, petulant demands were amusing to Them. Gale Dekarios was gone, he left and died with you. Even had you been spared, his mortality would never return. 

Dekarios now saw clearly how twisted his relationship to Mystra was, how she lured men and boys to her domain with the ruse of magic and granting unmatched ability and talent. It was sadistic how she toyed with them, with their emotions, with their dreams, dangling Chosen before them to mislead them into submission. Gods went through mortal play-things as quickly as a toddler goes through stages of excitement over a new toy. Exhilarating at first and quickly growing tired and uninteresting. 

He vowed to keep mortals and himself at a careful distance, though in time perhaps this would yeild. 

Yes, although Gods may have been mortal at a point in time, once one ascends one’s humanity fades into the ether. Instead, it is replaced with sensations of balance and order. As Dekarios the Divine, God of Ambition, he would never know true balance. It was his solemn duty to enforce it wherever possible.

Gods, you see, do not experience emotion in the capacity of humans. While they may understand a plight and be able to offer judicious advice, the essence of a God was beyond mortal understanding. Gods could not empathize because mortal plights were trivial nothings. Gods can see all time spread out before them like a spherical expanse, seeing every possible thread and outcome as if it was so. Because, well, it was - at some space and time.

Thus, he influenced a version of himself, in another time and space, visiting in a dream as Mystra had during his mortal days so many times before. Although Gale could not feel relief necessarily, he felt the scales of balance shift in his favor, if only marginally, through this effort. 

On occasion when the mood struck him, he would glance into this fabric of time in order to see what could have been. It was masochism in its finest and yet it brought him solace, a brief respite, to know that he was the man you needed him to be. If not in this time, in another.. 

Your death weighed on him inexplicably. It was a permanent ache, one that pulled at the threads of his now ethereal being, one that was woven into the very fabric of his creation. Comparable to the orb in his mortal body, the memory of you festered within him. To take the life of a mortal as a God is not looked fondly upon by Ao. But, Dekarios fell in a strange, illusive gray space. It was determined his eternal suffering, his internal unsteadiness, was adequate punishment for the transgression.  

It was not often, but sometimes Dekarios was filled with a sensation that was close to regret. In those moments, his followers and clerics felt it acutely and understood. Their shrines would get an overhaul and dusting, new offerings and prayers of alms sent.  

Those were also the moments he would inspect the fabric of time to find moments with you. These other realities, some where you dissuaded him from pursuing the crown at all, the more moments of these he found the greater balance was restored to him. 

But Gods were not meant to explore these other realities so intricately. The echos of his curiosity reverberated, like a string plucked, and Ao’s retribution was swift. 

When he received contact from Withers, he had been as close as a God could feel to surprise. 

[tallymonster]

Memories of Us

Chapter 18 : Remember Me

AO3 || Master list

A/N: so this is my longest chapter...it's around 6.7k words lol and there's a lot of lore drops going on soooo yeah enjoy lol.

Thanks to @cheesy-cryptid for their blessing on each chapter. Your support means the world to me.

Super special thanks as always to @micropoe10 because this girl has literally been here from day 1 supporting, uplifting, pushing, and helping me with this story. She even wrote the last few bits to save me from myself and I can never thank her enough. Love you so so much Rue.

Tags: @justporo @satanicspinosaurus @sleepy-timaeus @tragedybunny @davenswitcher @wayward-hel @hereliesblackdragon @misscrissfemmefatale

Astarion had begun to realize how much he enjoyed Octavia’s company. She was the eternal sunshine behind the clouds and each bit of affection from her broke them apart and allowed the light to come through.

The thought of someone caring about him was a lost concept, that someone could see something inside him other than what he saw himself.

Octavia was utterly infatuated with Astarion, she wondered if there was more to this routine the two of them found themselves in. The feeling of their bond becoming stronger, drop by drop of her delicious blood.

She was desperate to unearth more of his secrets, all while still hiding her own. Octavia was blinded by her own hypocrisy, the irony of her wanting to dig into his past while denying her own started to eat away at her. As she stared at herself in the mirror by the front door, she felt something tugging at her to be truthful with him.

There was a knock on the door, she took a deep breath as she finished fixing her hair.

You need to be honest with him. He was with you. It's the least you can do.

Astarion waited outside Octavia’s house, she had suggested going to a night market in Rivington she heard of. A friend of hers apparently told her it was a great place to go on a date.

He was somewhat nervous to be out in the open so publicly with someone. It had been so long since he let himself do it, not feeling the same as when he and Tav would walk hand in hand on the same streets.

Astarion leans on the rails of her front steps, he stares up into the starry sky. The stars sparkled as if they were there just for them. He smiles to himself, hearing the door open.

“Hello beautiful. I was afraid you were leaving me to go to the market all by mys-” He turns and the words are taken out of his mind as he takes in Octavia’s appearance.

She was in a mid-thigh length mustard colored pinafore dress, with a black short sleeved shirt, and some black tights with black leather ankle boots. A woven bag hung from her shoulder. This was one of the few times that Octavia could swear he was rendered speechless.

Octavia giggles and gives Astarion a kiss on the cheek, “Oh come on, you've seen me naked, I’m not dressed that seductively right now.” she walks past him and turns to wait for him at the end of her steps. “Ready to go?”

He nods with a grin and follows behind. As he steps down to the sidewalk, he holds his hand out, testing how she will react to his small gesture.

Octavia blushes, her heart fluttering slightly. She swings her shoulders back and forth, in a giddy wiggle. She smiles, biting her lip and takes his hand in hers. It felt cold, but so safe. She felt his fingers slip between hers in a comfortable lattice.

They walk through the street, silent at first. After they cross the road, Astarion wraps his arm around her waist and speaks. “You look wonderful by the way. I know you said you didn't look enticing, but I beg to differ. I think you look absolutely appetizing.” He squeezes her hip, Octavia’s cheeks are flushed a light reddish tone.

Astarion pulls Octavia close, hugging her in a playful embrace. She laughs as he bends down to kiss her. “You're being awfully affectionate. Are you feeling okay?” Octavia asks Astarion.

He lovingly cups her chin with his hand and pulls her in for another kiss. “I’ve just been really happy these last few weeks. I just figured that since we are on a date, I would act like it.” Astarion shrugs, giving Octavia another kiss before releasing her from his arms.

Octavia leads Astarion down the road to where the market was being held and becoming more populated. It had been so long since Astarion came to the street markets. He hated the crowds, the noise, all the different smells of foods he can't enjoy, but with her by his side it's all just background noise.

Astarion looks down at Octavia, a smile creeps into his face as he watches her eyes light up with excitement. Perhaps he could suffer for a bit longer, she did seem pretty eager to go out like this. Who would he be to deny her such simple pleasures?

Octavia can't decide where to go first. To her left was a stall with handmade leather bound books, to the right some flower stands, and not to mention all the food! She took Astarion’s hand and began to walk towards the flower stand. He smirks letting her lead him to wherever she wants.

“I love flowers. My mom and I had a garden at my childhood home where we grew so many. I tried maintaining it after she died, but it was just so hard to keep it up by myself. My dad was never one for being outside in the dirt even though he grew up near the Druid Grove.”

Octavia confesses with a laugh, she turns to Astarion and her smile drops a bit.

“I'm actually going to visit him soon. He's moving back to the Grove and he asked me to come help him empty out the house…feels weird to go back to basically throw away all the memories we made there.”

Astarion notices the change in her smile, the drop of her shoulders, and the way her hands come together. Her fingers twiddled at the variety of flowers carefully laid out with a far off stare. He takes one of her hands and holds it gently.

Octavia turns to him with faint tears on the corner of her eyes. She takes a deep breath and shakes her head. “It's been a long time coming. My mom's been gone about 16 years at this point, so why do I feel so sad?”

Astarion’s grip tightens on her hand. He knows this feeling too well. The feeling of moving on and allowing the grief to come and go as it pleases. Astarion takes in their surroundings. The last time he allowed himself to be in this type of market was the last time he saw Tav.

“You feel sad because you miss her, love. I've been there myself. In this very market no less.” Astarion finishes his sentence with a soft breath.

Octavia looks at him, recognizing the same sadness behind his eyes. The grief of losing someone you love. She remembers one of the things that makes her feel better is to talk about her mom, so maybe he can tell her about his loved one? “What were they like? The person you lost?”

Astarion glances back at Octavia, he hadn't thought about telling Octavia about Tav just yet, or at all. He pays for a bouquet of wildflowers that Octavia’s eyes locked onto. They turn and begin to walk away from the stall.

He hesitates before giving her a sad smile. “I’m not sure if this is the right time for that, I mean, I'd rather focus on you tonight, if you don't mind.” They sit on a bench near the edge of the market. Astarion looks down at the bouquet, taking a small pink rose and placing it in Octavia’s hair.

His hand lingers on her cheek, he leans down and kisses the corner of her eye. As he pulls away, he catches the smile that forms from her lips. He hands her the bouquet, as she leans on his shoulder, perfectly distracted away from her questions.

“No matter how long it is. Know that you will always carry a piece of her with you. As long as you remember her and the love you had, you'll never be without her.” Astarion comforts Octavia as they hold hands.

Astarion's good at the little words that everyone likes. The pleasant platitudes to soothe a broken heart. Meanwhile, he continues to push his own feelings of grief deeper down.

He could still see Tav standing at the opposite side of the market, the bag she carried full of contents hung from her shoulder. He stood about 8 stalls away from her. Her sweet scent hit his nostrils as he traded meat for bottles of blood.

Astarion had turned his head towards the scent, nearly dropping the glass bottle in his hand. He couldn't believe she was still in Baldur’s Gate after 30 years. He didn't know how long he was staring, until the merchant cleared their throat.

Astarion thanks them and turns back towards Tav. She's staring into a mirror that sat on top of the stall. She seems as if she's looking for something inside of it, a dreamy far off look behind her eyes. He hesitates wondering if she would be happy to see in or if she’d punch him. He’s frantically running scenarios in his head when he notices her head lift up.

Astarion shields his face with his cowl, only his bright red eyes shining through. He slings his bag over his shoulder and hesitates to walk closer to her. Tav fully turns to face him, her face the same kind loving light he saw in his trances. She smiles, beaming towards him, a look of recognition and love.

He swallows, the world seems to be closing in.

Instantly, though, that same world comes crashing down when he hears a small voice calling out. “Mama!! There you are! We’ve been looking all over for you!” A little girl runs past him, straight into Tav’s arms. Soon after a man comes up to them both and wraps an arm around Tav's waist.

He watches as the man kisses Tav and leads her away.

The rest of that day the way she looked past him burned in his mind. Could she have already forgotten about him? How long did it take for her to move on?

There's no point in dwelling on it now, he's got a lot of other things to worry about of course.

“Astarion? Are you okay? I didn't mean to pry again, I’m sorry.” Astarion is broken away from his thoughts by Octavia’s soft apology, her hand resting in his. He looks down at their hands intertwined. The flowers sit on the bench between them.

“The last time I saw her, she was standing at a stall like the one we were just at. I'm pretty sure she forgot who I was…or she had this look on her face like she did. I’ll never forget the way she looked into that mirror…This glossed over sort of blank empty look to her eyes. It was so strange, like she didn't remember where she was for a second.

Besides, she had a child and a husband? Partner? I don't know. I didn't hang around too long to ask, and I didn't want to cause any issues so I just stayed out of it.” Astarion confides, his voice mournful and far away.

Octavia feels the grip holding her hand tighten a bit, perhaps she's edging too close to his boundaries again? She rubs her hand on the top of Astarion’s arm. The motion soothes him and replaces the icy shards of sadness that pricked behind his eyes.

Somehow though, as he looks into her dazzling green eyes, he feels that lovely warmth in his chest. That feeling of comfort he’s longed for over a century.

They lock into each other, taking in their collective grief. Their sadness was the thing bringing them closer together. “You know, I’ve never told anyone about her.” Astarion confesses, “It's the first time that I've felt comfortable to feel this grief with someone who can relate. Thank you for giving me that opportunity to share a little with you.” He leans down and kisses her sweetly.

Octavia smiles reluctantly, a small shy blush grows on her cheeks. She must have something on her mind. “Is everything alright, my dear? You seem lost in thought.” Astarion asks.

She nods slowly, turning to look out to the market. “I was hoping that I wouldn't bring up anything sad, but I guess I couldn't make it through one date without ruining the moment.” Octavia huffs in a soft awkward laugh. “Gods, for once I wish I could stop being so melancholic and just enjoy the good things my life has given me lately. Like you.”

Astarion sits up a bit, he could feel a slight warmth at the tip of his ears, was he blushing? He clears his throat and asks, “Really? What about me?”

She smiles and plays with his fingers in her hand. “Where to start? You're kind, well…to me,” a soft giggle follows “you're smart, incredibly handsome. I feel pretty fortunate to have someone like you on my side, you understand me. Whoever let you go is foolish to have done so, but they opened up that path to you for me. So maybe they weren't so foolish after all.” Octavia lifts her hand, kissing the top of his hand.

“She didn't leave me. I left her. I left because I was scared. Scared that I couldn't take care of her how she wanted. Scared that she would figure that out on her own. That she would wake up one day and realize that I ruined her life. So I ran. I didn't even say goodbye. I just picked up my bag and left in the middle of the night. Like a coward.” Astarion spits out, the shame and regret dripping from his lips. His lips purse as he bites the inside of them.

Octavia frowns, she takes the flowers and places them on her lap. She plucks one out and begins to softly spin the flower, opening the petals. “You're not a coward.” She brings the flower up to his ear, tucking it behind.

“I don't think you're a coward for trying to keep someone you loved safe.” Her hand lingers on his cheek, caressing his face. “‘The things we do for love’, as my mom used to say.”

Astarion melts into the warmth of her hand. His heart felt the grief it was used to, but with her here it didn't seem so devastating. To allow himself to be vulnerable with someone felt strange, as most things involving Octavia do.

They sit in silence for a few seconds, before Octavia speaks “Not to change the subject or anything because I feel awkward,” she laughs a bit, “but I've noticed that you haven't been wearing your glasses lately? Did something change?”

Astarion bristles a bit, having to think on his feet. He was a bit hesitant to admit that he was not feeling the need to keep hiding behind the magical lenses any longer. In reality, he began to feel more comfortable to be himself around her.

But instead of giving her that openness, he lies again. “Oh, I…felt like I'd be calling more attention to myself if I were to have them on right now. Besides, wasn't it you that asked me why I wore them indoors right as Gale introduced you to me? I feel like this is the opposite of that.” Astarion ends with a soft tilted giggle.

“Imagine if someone stopped us to ask why I'm wearing sunglasses in the evening? As you so tactfully had that first night? That would have definitely ruined the date. Either way, you didn't do anything wrong. You’re perfect.” Astarion pulls Octavia close, releasing his hand on hers, and drapes his arm on her shoulder.

Octavia melts into his embrace, a bittersweet feeling hung over them. She brings her hand up to her shoulder and interlocks her fingers into his again. Astarion felt her relax a bit.

“How long will you be away?” “Do you want to come with me?” They speak at the same time, interrupting each other. Astarion clears his throat and Octavia laughs quietly. She turns her head to ask again, “Do you want to come with me to Wyvern Hills? I'll be gone for around six days?”

Astarion thinks it over, the idea of meeting her father was intimidating, even more so because he would probably have to explain his particular affliction. “I don't think so, darling. You deserve a break, and I don't think Gale can handle everything by himself again. I had him do that once and he nearly quit. It's too much for one person to handle. It would be unfair to him.”

Octavia feels Astarion’s other hand start to run up and down her arm. It's as if he was soothing her, or himself, maybe both? He was beginning to recognize the same comfort of sitting in silence with a loved one. The reminiscences of a quiet evening under the stars.

The sounds of nature envelop them, an intimate orchestra for two lost souls floating in an everlasting ocean of grief. In the vast darkness, they find the light and come together.

Octavia had lost herself to these feelings like so many times before. Astarion was born in it, used to the push and pull of it. Having lost the will to swim against it and let the waves crash over him, caught in its current thrashed around, but this was different.

To Astarion, Octavia feels like the safety net pulling him from the depths. The warmth of her affections was melting away his fears. His heart wanted to tell her how he felt. To confirm that after all these years, he finally felt the warmth of loving someone again.

“I lo-” Astarion almost confesses when he catches himself and continues, "I'll miss you. A lot. I just realized that we haven't been apart since we met. It'll be strange not having you around.” He leans down and kisses her cheek. “Come back to me, okay?”

Octavia felt her cheeks flush and her heart flutter.

Was he..? No…I’m probably just projecting.

Octavia couldn't deny her feelings for Astarion. The little flashes of lightning whenever he held her, made her laugh, or kissed her were exhilarating.

She couldn't deny that she loved him.

Octavia was terrified to tell him so after hearing him talk about his lost love. Who would she be if she heard all his pain and immediately said “Well, guess what? I love you!”? Her face felt hot, how long had they been sitting here?

She turns to Astarion and kisses him, she lets her feelings pour into their kiss. Octavia could feel tears gathering behind her eyes, “I’ll miss you too.” She smiles and kisses him again, feeling him lean into her, his arms wrapping around her.

Octavia pulls away a bit, “I should go home now, I told my dad I would try to be there as early as I could.” Astarion responds with a whine, Octavia giggles as he plants small kisses all over her cheeks, nose and lips.

“Don't miss me too much, Star.”

“Is that a challenge, darling?”

They laugh as Astarion unwraps himself from her, he stands and holds his hand out. Octavia takes it and they walk off into the night.

They leave the flowers on the bench.

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

Octavia walks up to the cobblestone cottage she grew up in. The patch of wildflowers she used to run in have turned into a full meadow, their blooms alert and open as if welcoming her back.

She walks up the gravel path to the doorway, noticing a small hummingbird on the hibiscus bush her mom lovingly tended. She smiles watching it flit away. Her trip would be over soon. A ping of sadness runs through her, saying goodbye to the place is going to be hard.

Suddenly the door swings open. Her father, Ralomaer, stands at the doorway with a giant grin on his face. He has a red flannel shirt on with some white powder on the bottom and some dark pants.“Hey kid! Have a nice walk? Are ya hungry? Got some breakfast made up for you!”

“Did you make waffles by any chance?” Octavia asks, with a laugh. Her dad tilts his head, his brows furrowed and he shakes his head, “Yeah, how’d you know??” Octavia laughs harder and points at his shirt. “You're covered in powdered sugar, Dad.”

Ralomaer laughs and waves his hand over the fabric, cleaning it up. Octavia walks up to him and remarks, “That must come in handy, you always used to hate doing laundry.”

Her dad laughs, “Well when you live alone, it's kind of pointless to wash one thing at a time. This is faster and better for the environment. Anyway, go eat. I'll meet you upstairs when you're done, it's attic day!” He waves his hands in a flourish, as Octavia walks past him and into the kitchen. Her dad climbs up the stairs.

Later that morning, Octavia sits cross-legged on the floor of the attic. Her father sits across from her on an old wooden chair. Between them sat an open wooden crate full of letters, drawings, photos, and many memories from her childhood.

“Okay, now I understand why you wanted me to come by and have this visit with you so urgently. This is really nice to go through with you, Dad.” Octavia chirps excitedly.

“Well don't thank me, thank your Auntie Taeladra! She insisted I clean the attic since she bought the house from me. Kept telling me something about ‘Preserving family history’ and ‘can you tell Octavia to come instead, isn't this pretty much her job.’” Ralomear holds up his hands, making finger quotes.

“Gods, she sounds like my coworker, Gale.” Octavia and her father laugh, as she rifles through the crate. Finding medals, trophies, countless books, letters, and pictures.

“You know, I think you’d like Gale. He's pretty funny. He's smart, witty, and so quick! He's been a great mentor, and an amazing friend. I'm really lucky to have him.” Octavia smiles warmly as she keeps rifling through the crate.

Her father stares at her, a puzzled look on his face. “What? What's that look for??” Octavia asks playfully.

“Are you dating this Gale? That was a lot of complimentary language for someone who is just a friend, my darling.” Ralomear gently teased.

“Dad! No! He's not my type! Besides, I'm way too busy with all the research and work and just…everything.” Octavia laughs, hiding her face behind her hair. She quickly looks away, hoping that her answer would squash this conversation.

“Oh my little bookworm! Don't keep your head in the books too long, you'll miss out on writing your own story.” Ralomear pinches Octavia’s cheek adoringly.

She smiles at her father, a little embarrassed laugh leaves her lips. A feeling of dread grows, she knows that her visit might end with her having to possibly define whatever she's got going on with Astarion. A small seed of insecurity plants itself in her stomach. How could she ever find a way to ease her father’s worries when it came to her love life?

“I’m gonna see what else is back there.” Octavia gets up and starts looking through the rest of the crates that occupied the attic. They were all stacked neatly in the corner of the little room. She walks up to the circular window next to the stack and opens the thin curtain.

Small dust spores kick up as she swings the window open, allowing the fresh air and sunlight to flood in. When she turns she notices a dusty tarp in the darkened corner of the attic. Some canvas frames sat on top of the tarp, it was staged as if it was trying to conceal something.

Octavia comes up to the items, carefully moving them aside. What she finds is an old wooden crate. “What the..?” She runs her hand on the edge of it, easily sliding it open. “Woah…hey Dad? I found something?”

Ralomaer looks up quizzically and wanders over. He stands with a hand on his hip, the other scratches at his beard. “Well would you look at that! Didn't even know that old crate was in here! No wonder your auntie wanted you to come through here, you and your museum skills are great for finding old junk!” he laughs.

Octavia began digging through the crate. Inside were old spell scrolls, tomes, stacks of handwritten letters from her great grandmother, the other adventures she traveled with, even highly detailed hand drawn maps!

Octavia could not believe the amazing treasure trove she had just unearthed in her own home. How long has this been here waiting for her to find it?

She finds a book full of sketches of various plants, animals, and locations all over Faerun. Octavia fixates on a fully illustrated image of the inside of what looks like an Illithid colony! She continues to flip through it, mesmerized by the way everything is drawn.

Octavia turns the page and is struck with drawings of eyes that look relatively close to Astarion’s own. She feels a strange sort of recognition from looking at the drawings.

The blood colored irises that were lovingly depicted in charcoal and ink, have a haunting familiarity to them. She knows Astarion is old, but she never asked exactly how old…

Her father pulls her out of her suspicions, “Lookie here, Tavvy! I found a rather interesting letter!” Ralomear recalls as he unfolds the antique parchment, handing it to Octavia. She reads the letter, her mind a little frazzled by yet another strange coincidence.

Darling Tav,

Laurent tells me you've been having nightmares again. It's been about 20 years since everything happened, are you still being plagued by the memories of it all, or just one particular, specific person? I still have some of my contacts from the House of Grief from my days as a Sharran. If you're serious about taking the risk, I could put you in contact with them. Let me know when you two get settled into your cottage. Lae and I can be over as soon as a tenday.

You're always in my thoughts, my dear friend.

Love always,

Shadowheart

“House of Grief? That sounds ominous.” Octavia remarks, remembering the extreme rituals Sharrans would take in order to release painful memories. Octavia could hardly imagine the suffering of those who felt it necessary to forget something, to now know that her own grandmother endured that shakes Octavia to her core.

“Sharrans eh? Good thing you did that whole exhibit on them! Maybe your friend Gale can help you out with this stuff?” Ralomear remarks.

“Yeah…maybe… Do you think Grammy had some PTSD from the whole Netherbrain thing?” Octavia asks quietly, the seriousness weighing heavy on her heart.

“I’m not sure, baby. Your mom always avoided the subject with me. Something about not wanting to dwell on the past and enjoying the time you had in the now. It was the one thing I never understood about your mom. How I wish you could ask her now.” Ralomear solemnly muses. He looks at Octavia, smiling mournfully.

They stay in the silence for a moment, before Octavia breaks. “I miss her. I could really use her brain right now.” She runs her finger along the outside of the crate.

“I miss her too. You definitely took after her, your brilliance is obviously her doing, my heart.” Ralomear takes Octavia’s hand in hers, squeezing it lovingly.

“I am so proud of you, I know your mom would be too. Now, let's keep digging through her stuff!” Ralomear smiles warmly and releases her hand.

Octavia shuffles through a stack of books, most of them run of the mill books, nothing too noteworthy. Until she notices a blue-gray fabric bound book. In silver letters across the front it read ‘Warming the Melancholy Heart’. She cards through it, until a small hand written letter falls out.

Octavia opens it, scanning the page. She gasos and begins to read the letter to her father.

Laurent,

The Unburdening your wife chose to follow through with should have fully set in by now. I have sent you some recommended reading should you have any questions about the procedure. Your wife has all my gratitude for all she did for me and the others. To give her this blessed relief in this trying time is the least I could do.

As per her concern, she may have some fleeting memories, but those should fade in time. Should she have any aftereffects or complications, do not hesitate to contact me again.

Shar’s blessings be upon you,

Nocturne

“Unburden? What does that mean?” Ralomear asks Octavia, handing her the letter.

Octavia reads through the thin book, the words describing the taking of memories sound as if they're trying to lessen the serious action being taken.

The remedy may seem non-existent, but it is not so. No heart that beats is a stranger to that which gives it joy - you must seek it out however you can.

Octavia flips through the book, most of it is filled with testimonials from people who went through the process. Lines of affirmation for what has been done to forget. Her eyes linger on one of the pages describing the aftereffects, symptoms ticked in red ink, tally marks keeping track of each in black.

✓ Forgetfulness ///

✓ Melancholy ////

✓ Face blindness //

✓ Staring at nothing //

✓ Nightmares of past memories /////////

These shall subside as time passes, you will need to guide your loved one through the process moving past their burdens. Should they seem different, another session may be required.

You may notice your loved one have an empty, far off look to their eyes, that will lift as their healing progresses. If you find they are forgetting more than intended, return to the House of Grief.

Be aware of them looking into mirrors for a long period of time.

"Mirror??? What?” Octavia gasps, covering her mouth quickly after. “Tavvy? Everything alright? Your face looks really sweaty all of a sudden…” Her dad reaches out and places the back of his hand on her forehead. “Oh yeah, you're feeling a little warm, why don't you go lie down? We're almost done for today, so I can finish up and bring some tea to your room?” he gives her a soft pat on the shoulder.

Octavia nods, “Sure, thanks Dad.” she can't wrap her mind around everything she just read and saw. She grabs the sketchbook and the book on Unburdening and walks out of the room. She descends the thin ladder leading up to the attic, then walks into her room, closing the door.

Octavia presses her back against the door, sliding down until she's sitting on the floor. The sketchbook closely held to her chest.

She opens the book back up to the images of the eyes. There's no doubt in her mind that she's looking into the same eyes that she had back on the bench outside the market.

Suddenly, Octavia remembers that she had the enchanted journal at the bottom of her bag. She crawls over to her bag at the foot of the bed, and flips furiously through it.

One entry immediately catches her attention.

Gods, it's been incredibly hard trying to keep these entries as neutral as I can. There's no telling what else could come for A. About two tenday ago, we went through that freaky meadow, A and I ran into a Gur hunter named Gandrel. Said he was looking for a vampire spawn, I noticed A’s whole attitude immediately change. His face looked as if he had been slapped. Those eyes that keep staring at me, turned so fox-like and angular. As soon as we heard A’s name come from the hunter’s lips, it was over. I have never seen him move like that. He swears it’s Cazador, but what would Cazador need him for?

Octavia presses her knees up to her chest. She closes her eyes and tries to push the notion of this being Astarion whom her ancestor is referring to out of her mind. It can't be him, could it?

She reaches over to the foot of her bed and rips through her bag, shaking out its contents, until finding a black velvet bag. She slips the ribbon off, taking out the red leather bound book that Astarion had given her.

She flips through, reading the first few lines. It speaks of people who had been captured, the various ways in which they were beaten, tortured, abused, and finally, bled try and turned.

Each one had an entire 20 page section dedicated to their specific treatment. Near the bottom of one page, she notices a name.

According to Aurelia, the Gur sent someone to find him. I sent Dalarya and Petras to stalk the Gur encampment in Rivington. They are to kill whoever does not give up information.

The boy will be found, I need him to ascend. The Ritual of Profane Ascension will be completed.

I WILL BECOME THE VAMPIRE ASCENDANT.

Ritual of Profane Ascension…where had she seen that phrase before? Octavia goes back to Tav’s journal, flipping through until she sees those words again.

Today, I got a better look at his back.

He's got a circular scar with Infernal written all around. When I saw it the morning after the party with the tieflings, he said it was poetry, but he didn't know that I know Infernal. I was hesitant to tell him what it really was, but something told me to keep being honest.

When I asked him where he got it, he told me it was a gift from his old master, Cazador. I explained to him that I believed it was a binding glyph, Cazador was planning something and whatever it is, it seems he needs the missing piece that I have in my party.

My suspicions were proven correct when we met up with the devil after finishing the Gauntlet of Shar and killing the Orthon.

He told us about this Rite of Profane Ascension. How Cazador needs 7 of his spawn to sacrifice along with many others to make himself into some kind of super vampire that can walk in the sun, go into homes without being invited, all those things that go along with being a vampire….

I'm not so sure about it though. Raphael explained that the soul of the Ascendant would be lost, and he would be a shell of his former self.

I don't know if I could go through with it. Killing all those people? It seems like such a big decision to make, so permanent and serious. We had a group meeting after everyone cleaned up and had dinner. Karlach and Wyll were adamantly against it. They can't justify all that loss for one person to benefit.

Gale and Shadow had more rational arguments, they both had ambitions to be greater than they were through their own rites. A seemed to listen to Shadow over Gale, but ultimately it was Lae’zel that convinced him otherwise.

She told him how all she wanted was to serve her Queen, but after seeing everything we have, she realized that she can't keep chasing the shadow of a lie. Sometimes, we have things we want, and we find that to achieve them, we would lose all of ourselves. If that was the case, what was he chasing after? If he wanted freedom, he's already free.

I think that was what finally opened Star’s eyes.

Star??

“Fuck me.” Octavia can feel the color drain out of her face. She looks around the floor at all the books that were surrounding her. She picks up the sketchbook and keeps looking through.

She noticed that every so often, there are pages ripped out. As if someone tore them up in a fit of rage. When she reaches the page with the eyes, she sees a little doodle of a star beside each one.

Octavia can't help the trembling in her hands, there's been this creeping suspicion inside her for a few weeks now.

The enchantment Gale broke, the log book Astarion gave her, the way he described his lost love seeming like they had been Unburdened and now all this? The clues are becoming glaringly obvious to her, but, it can't be….can it?

Her heart is thundering inside her chest as she keeps going through the pages of the sketchbook, more torn pages, drawings of flowers, and finally near the end of the book, two full pages of the binding glyph that Tav had described.

Three circles, almost like a bullseye, surrounded by Infernal symbols. The scarring looked deep and painful. Octavia’s mind races remembering how Astarion winced and seemed to not want her to touch him there.

Octavia’s eyes survey the page and her breath is ripped out from her lungs when she sees a profile drawing of Astarion looking her right back in the face. She can feel the tears well up behind her eyes, her entire life she had been told about this grand adventure, this amazing thing that her great grandmother had done for the city she loved.

There's almost double the amount of writings speaking all about a seventh spawn. It used a code for their abuses and names but I was one set of entries that surpassed all others in her eyes.

Octavia swallows, she grabs the red leather book one more time, she opens the book towards the end, as soon as she sees his name, it all comes crashing down on her.

I have dispatched the brood. They will find him and bring him home. And when they do, I will make him scream for this.

Their tale was fanciful, but they believe it to be true. Astarion, standing in the sun’s light? Willing and able to disobey me? Inconceivable.

My spawns fail me. Astarion eludes me. I WILL HAVE MY DUE.

Octavia’s blood runs cold.

There it was, hidden in plain sight this whole time. Astarion is everything that she has been searching for. He's the one who was there, the one who was in the paintings, the one who Tav forgot. All the evidence was clear, and now seeing his name in this journal that she barely bothered to look at back home…

Home.

Oh gods, how was she going to be able to look Astarion in the face now?

The only thing that made her doubt all of this was his back. She hadn’t seen it yet. She dreaded having to ask to see it, what would she say? How would he react? She presses her head up against the footboard of her bed, closing her eyes tightly.

Octavia's heart shattered as she sat clutching her knees tightly to her chest. The room grew smaller and the air around her was stifling and thick. Between the sobs, she tried to catch her breath, trying to stop the room from spinning, holding on to her legs, anything to ground her.

But what was left to stand on? Everything she knew up to this moment had been a giant mystery until now, shrouded in a decades-long secret. Locked away behind paintings and books, the things that once gave her comfort, that now sat scattered about her felt tainted.

She shoved them away, call it anger, frustration, fear, it all blurred together now. The floor felt like shifting sand, like it would give way at any moment sucking her down. Hiding her, like the other 7000, like his siblings like him...HIM.

Did he know? Did he know about her relationship to Tav? She had so many questions now and everything felt more and more uncertain. He loved Tav, and she had loved him that was for certain. Was he still in mourning, did he regret leaving Tav? Was she Tav's replacement?

Oh gods the room was spinning as Octavia lay down on the floor curled in on herself. She couldn't think that way, but she couldn't help it anymore. She no longer was thinking with a clear and rational head, instead, she let her emotions control her.

Binding her to the belief that Astarion once upon a time loved a woman so intimately, that she would never be able to fill that void. As sleep took her the last thought that plagued the visions within her mind was one that had read in the journal, something that Tav had penned so long ago.

Would Astarion ever leave Octavia like he had left her? And if he didn't would she ever be good enough for him to convince him to stay?

[forestmossling]

this is really good. like. very good.

i adore every trope that falls under the category of “something horrible is unmade in a way that the people who were affected by it are still aware of it” so the whole concept of this series enticed me from the beginning, but when i actually read it it was so much more. i can’t say i feel any strong deep emotions about chrissy, even though i love seeing her character explored, but this was absolutely amazing. she was so alive (pun only partially intended) and real and almost tangible in the things she went through and dealt with and that was seriously great. writers making chrissy to eddie what robin is to steve slowly but surely becomes one of my favorite tropes, because it’s just really fucking great is what it is. and here it was shown so well: eddie being so tactile with her (i love a touch-starved motherfucker seeing as i am one as well), the way they went through unimaginable horrors together and found each other in the aftermath to build a beautiful life out of the shambles of their previous ones. so just- yeah.

i was reading the buckingham part like this 🫣 because i felt exactly what chrissy felt right after robin accidentally said “i love you” but it didn’t end with me having a cool beautiful girlfriend because the girl did in fact pull away after the time i assume she figured out i was attracted to her so… yeah. i promise i don’t avoid sapphic fics on purpose, it’s just that i am an afab non-binary who is mostly attracted to women so these fics just make me see all the things i want, but don’t have and that just ruins my whole escapism jam, sorry. it was still incredibly sweet and nice and i loved how their getting-together story played out.

and while buckingham was all nice and sweet and tentative bubblegum sweet romance, the steddie was so fucking real. i feel like i’m using the word real too much in this, but that’s just because it perfectly encompasses the way i felt reading this, the steddie part especially. i read a lot of steddie fics, and a lot of them are a bit exaggerated, dramatic and overly fictionalized, which, that’s not me throwing shade, i definitely love that about them, but this felt incredibly realistic. grounded. the way both of them dealt with their trauma, the way they didn’t immediately fall into an easy relationship of any kind right after what happened, the way they were awkward and unsure, but again, in such a realistic, grounded, mature, dare i say, way. i just love them a lot and i love them in this series a lot too.

also, eddie going bonkers because steve bit an apple after eddie was eating it is soo eddie like he would definitely not be chill about it.

anyway, 1623459/10, am recommending. thank you for this amazing work, @walkingsaladshooter.