#there's no guarantee that stranger will be respectful of you or anything

[sylviareviar]

Curious but how did you come up with your OC? Is she her own fandomless OC you have verses for, or has she always been one in the Persona universe?

Truth be told, Sylvia is a self-insert OC. I have other verses of her, and her background is usually different in every one, to better explain her circumstances. It's just, her Persona verse is the most active one I have on Tumblr. I came up with her in middle school, when I was at my lowest point, and Sylvia became my go-to comfort character ever since, because... she helped me escape.

But the truth is, I have lots of verses for her. Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's is one (which I don't actually use on here since I don't have any 5D's moots, but I am writing a fic about it on Wattpad-- it's the kind of fic that I'm not really proud to have, but I'm too attached not to write it, so into the trash bin it goes, I guess). I also have verses like Pokemon, in which she only accumulates her trauma after going out on a Pokemon journey, or Fire Emblem, where she's a glass cannon mage tasked with defending her lord (and maybe falls a little ill because of all the magic she's got inside her).

There are others, of course, but at the moment I can't think of many, since right now I'm hyperfixated on the Persona series, but if there are any other fandoms I like that I want Sylvia to be a part of, chances are she's there, with at least a basic background that I can build on if I start focusing on it again (like My Hero Academia). Oh, but I don't actually watch popular anime like One Piece, Bleach, Death Note, or Demon Slayer. Especially not Fullmetal Alchemist; I watched it when I was younger and got traumatized by the chimera dog. It's a little bit tricky, but I mostly find myself attracted by JRPGs, which is when I start to wonder, "I wonder what it would be like for Sylvia here? What kind of background would she have? How would she interact with the characters?" Building her up from there, coming up with funny scenarios with other characters, creating mischief and angst and blending the two into a believable character... It's all a lot of fun for me.

Sylvia being a self-insert doesn't mean that I take everything personally when I RP. Instead, the way I act with her feels more like she's a "doll" or an act that I play with. If other characters have personally hurt her, that's not an attack on me, nor is it an attack on her. It is an in-character interaction, much like how two actors who act out characters on stage that fight one another doesn't mean that the actors themselves are fighting.

The way she looks and is as a character is built in ways I can relate to, and it helps me to cope with the real world and real traumas I have. In a way, Sylvia could actually be my own personal Persona-- a mask I wear to get through the real world.

Sylvia's appearance is based purely on what I would find ideal on myself, and is sorta like what I think my personality looks like if it were a person. Her background, though, is something I have fun playing around with and building with the world, and I do my best not to break the boundaries of whatever world she's in, but bend them a little bit to make her seem unique without trying to take attention away from other, more important characters.

I guess you could call Sylvia almost a "trauma response," but I prefer to think of her more as a "special interest," because through her, I can learn better how to write, how to behave myself, and simply have fun interacting with canon characters.

Also, exhibiting some of my own personal habits through her helps me identify my faults as a person, and figure out things that I need to work on versus what things may be cute or fun in an objective sense, which I could leave alone after a bit of moderation. Such as...

...m-my habit of rambling. Or my dislike of loud noises.

But not everything Sylvia does is the same as me! For example, I don't actually live on a farm like Sylvia does in both the Pokemon and Persona 5 verses. My home is actually in a suburban area. Sylvia's location also isn't exactly the same as mine, and depending on the verse, her skillset isn't the same as mine either-- the only things that remain the same are her like of drawing, singing, and writing. Sometimes it isn't possible for her to play a flute, or to play video games, or even to just ride a bike. So really, how close she is in depiction to the actual me depends on the verse, but all of it is simply to have fun.

I hope that explained Sylvia as a concept sufficiently. I know a lot of people are uncomfortable RPing with self-inserts, so I'm already very grateful for the people who are willing to RP with her, and who haven't dismissed her as cringe or disgusting. Believe me, I've tried to let her go years ago, but every time, it never worked. So I'm sort of stuck. But I think if I practice with Sylvia long enough, I could start writing other characters with their own silly nuances and overly specific habits too.

[pparadiselost]

could you write sae x reader x shidou? if not, then shidou x reader would be fine

and im absolutely inlove with dacryphilia.. so if you could include that too thanks ^^

deux et trois.

shidou ryusei x fem reader x itoshi sae your wild boyfriend has always been a handful, but him tagteaming you with a rather trusted teammate might be more than you can chew. warning(s): nsfw, dacryphilia, dubcon, exhibitionism, cucking, degradation (from sae) minors do not interact.

dating someone like shidou ryusei feels a lot like a dream come true in the conceptual sense. you could easily imagine a whole plethora of young women who would give up everything they ever knew to date a handsome, successful soccer player like him and to essentially live a guaranteed life of glamor and luxury. and this much was your reality, and it was a fact that you accepted with as much humility and gratitude you could. 

you were never someone who enjoyed letting such superficial things get to your head and pump your ego up; you falling in love with him and him falling in love with you was nothing more than chance, and nothing on the objective level separated you from any other girl in the world. 

and shidou treats you sweetly, a surprising contrast to his maniacal behavior on the playing field. he’s still energetic and gets a kick out of teasing you playfully whenever he gets the chance to, but everything he does shows that he cares for you. perhaps in that way you two are really meant for each other; he would never purposefully do anything to upset you, and everything he involved you with was because he genuinely thought it would be good for you.

his coworkers, be they opponents or teammates, also all treated you with a degree of respect. they were intimidating and constantly raring to go, as if each of them were starved beasts, but they knew that you were simply shidou’s lover but not him himself. you grew accustomed with some of them. isagi sometimes gave you a shy smile and a greeting, igaguri would beg you to tone down your boyfriend to no success, and even the icy rin would peer at you with his cold teal eyes and nod curtly in your direction.

but exceptions were always to be expected.

“hm…,” a callous voice hums to no one in particular from above you. “...i can’t say i knew what to expect from you, but this certainly wasn’t it, little demon. well, i suppose that is my fault for letting you have too much free rein.”

your core burns, and every part of your bare body prickles with heat and shame. you don’t know how this happened or what pieces fell into place to bring you here, but you were here nonetheless. shidou’s dick is stuffed into you, your boyfriend bucking his hips wildly into you while you’re perched helplessly on his lap, and your thighs are spread apart nice and wide to give the other man in the room a perfect view to how shidou’s cock stretches your pussy apart.

you recognize him vaguely. unlike shidou, this man’s face is unreadable and frosty. his jaw is set as if it were carved out of stone, beautiful but unapproachable, and long under eyelashes escort you mockingly upwards to his unimpressed eyes. his irises are the same shade of breathtaking teal that are rin’s, and your stomach flips.

“whaaaaaat, i thought i’d offer you the best!” shidou sings from behind you. you whimper as he leans forward, trapping you in between his arms and his toned chest. “c’mon, why are you acting so shy all of the sudden, sae-chan? if i brought you anything less than acceptable to your impossible standards, you’d call me all sorts of ugly names and kick me out!”

this whole thing is embarrassing. you’re already so shy about having sex with your boyfriend, let alone have sex with him while someone that might as well be a total stranger watch you bouncing on top of shidou’s dick like tomorrow doesn't exist. and you weren’t given much space to hide any of it either. the very instant you’d make an attempt to even close your legs, shidou would be spreading them right apart and bullying his throbbing length into you even deeper, as if to offer your stuffed cunt up to itoshi sae and brag about it to him.

sae frowns, and his pretty lips twist into something that almost looks like a scowl. the temperature in the room feels as if it’s mounting into a dizzying heat but also plunging into an arctic chill between the two men. “but to think you’d bring me your girlfriend… i’d be impressed, if it weren’t for the fact that you brought me such a perverted girl.”

your breath hitches in the back of your throat when he points an insult at you. you’d believe that sae hated you with an unspoken passion if it weren’t for the fact that he was also naked and you could see how his cock was hardening, his dick twitching slightly whenever you glance towards the midfielder with watering eyes and short-lived gasps escaping your mouth. still, his words hurt, and you can feel tears invade the corner of your eyes. you rapidly try to blink them away; you’re already ashamed of the fact that he’s watching you getting railed by shidou, let alone cry like a baby in front of him. 

“‘m not- ‘m not a pervert-,” you somehow manage to choke out, and your chest immediately tightens. you sound more like an out-of-breath porn star than you do the normally sweet and assertive girl that you are, and your gut spasms with shame. fuck, fuck, fuck! this shouldn’t feel good, you really shouldn’t be getting off to something as wicked and shameful as this. but the throbbing in your core tells you otherwise; you’re enjoying being watched as shidou dicks you down mercilessly.

as if on cue, shidou laughs heartily. you grip at his arm when he snakes a hand down to pinch at your clit. heat jolts straight up your pussy, and you let out a strangled cry.

“but isn’t she beautiful, sae-chan? looks like you hit a nerve with what you said to her. she looooooves to act all shy and cute, but i’ll have you know that she’s really fun to play with.” he fucks his cock up harshly into you as if he’s making a point, and you’re practically drooling from the way he forces you to take it, your pliant walls molding to the rough lovemaking he’s showing you, all of the pleasure making you feel lightheaded.

you’re not sure what to do. you feel so good, you love having shidou’s cock inside of you. and the new angle of having him fucking upwards into you makes your pussy drool with anticipating, desperate to cum. you want him all over you: touching your bouncing tits, torturing your clit, making sure your pussy only feels good from having his length inside of you. but as much as you want to lose yourself to this world-shattering pleasure, you can’t really succumb to it because of how hyperaware you are of the little voyeur in front of you. 

sae makes it clear that he’s observing every detail. his eyes glaze all over the curves of your body, and you shudder when he stares right in between your legs, where shidou’s fucking into you. it feels like he’s judging you, like he’s telling you that he clearly has the upper hand in the situation, and that you having sex with your boyfriend only exists for his amusement.

you try your hardest to bite back how much your eyes are watering. but everything feels too good, and you’re quickly crumbling in shidou’s arms. shidou’s doing his best to get you to cum. his mouth sucks all over your neck and leaves open-mouthed kisses on your skin, and you whimper loudly when he bites and sucks on your earlobe.

“n-not there…! please- ryu, i can’t take it! be nice to me… no- gonna cum-,” you moan out. you’re shaking your hips lewdly, and your inner thighs burn. but fuck, you’d be damned if you said shidou wasn’t making you feel good. like the dedicated boyfriend he was, he knew exactly what he needed to do to get you to fall apart. you’re crying out, and there’s a ring of frothy white forming at the base of his cock. his balls twitch under you, and your pussy clenches and tightens up ruthlessly around his girth when you start thinking about having him creampie you.

“gonna cum already? we just got started though! i promised sae-chan such a good show too…” shidou makes an exaggerated kissing noise, and one of his big hands squeezes encouragingly at your hips. sae lets out a quiet huff as if in disagreement, but there’s a few drops of prominent pre-cum that bead at his tip. you’re not sure if sae is a masochist or just downright prideful. probably both, but despite how red and angry his cock looks, he refuses to touch himself to the sight of you.

your vision is hazing over with tears. you really don’t want to cry, don't want to look weak in front of a stranger, don’t want to look like you’re falling apart this quickly. but trying to regain control of your body when so much is happening to you feels impossible, and everything is going to your head. your core is tightening up dangerously, and the pleasure is overwhelming every part of your mind. you whine and whimper, mewling like a wounded animal, and a few scalding hot tears slip past your lashline.

it doesn’t go unnoticed.

“are you… crying?” sae spits out the words as if they’re toxic and bitter in his mouth. you shake your head feebly and try to turn your face away from the redhead, but your body seems to answer instead of your mouth. your pussy clamps down on shidou with renewed vigor, and the boy lets out a gruff “fuck!” through his gritted teeth before laughing loudly and speeding his pace up. 

you hiccup. “no- ‘m not crying- not so fast, ryu, please…! you’ll mess me up, you’ll mess up my pussy if you fuck me like that-!! ah- feels so good- you’ll kill me- i’ll die from having sex with you!”

more tears are streaming down your cheeks, leaving hot trails as they fall. sae’s eyes are blown open wide, and something akin to fear settles deep in your body when you notice how entranced he looks. it’s like he wants to gobble you whole, like a man possessed by something unholy, and you cower against shidou’s chest as if he’s able to provide any protection.

shidou giggles delightedly against your ears. “you’re saying such lewd things… you’re making me really happy, did you know that? yeah? is your boyfriend’s cock making you feel that good? gosh, you’re so naughty… i didn’t know you liked my dick that much.”

you sniffle, suddenly feeling as if all the strength was being sapped from your body. you can barely see as the tears fall freely from your eyes, staining your face. you’re aware of how awful you must look, turning into goo in shidou’s arms as every part of your body shakes. it’s horrible and vulnerable, but at the same time, it turns you on so badly with a high so unexpected that you’re scared you’ll get hooked on it. it’s the kind of pleasure that runs so deep, you know it’s going to ruin you the moment you let it fully take root inside of you.

“gonna cum- please- please, slow down- not so deep, ryu, not so deep! i can’t take it-,” you squeak out. your head lolls back weakly against shidou’s shoulders, and you moan when shidou captures your mouth into a deep kiss. his tongue swirls all around your defenseless mouth, and you sob and cry all throughout the kiss. your pussy won’t quit squeezing and hugging his cock, and being kissed through it only makes you tighten up that much more. 

the friction is just so, so addictive. you want more. you need more. you don’t want anyone else to see you falling apart in such an unglamorous way, fucked dumb and reduced to tears over a man’s dick, but your boyfriend is determined to show you off to his friend and to rip an orgasm out of you one way or the other. 

a strand of saliva clings to shidou’s mouth when he pries his lips off of you, and he glances over at sae with a smug grin. “uh-uh, none of that, babe. i know you can take it, know you can handle my cock. look at you! you’re doing so good… it’s like your pussy wants my cock more than you say you do- don’t lie to me. bet you want me to cum inside you too, fill that pretty hole of yours up with aaaaaaaaaaall of my semen. what do you think, sae-chan?”

“do you think a girl like that deserves it? look at her, crying over something as trivial as this. does the thought of being watched make you want to cry?” sae’s voice is as sharp and cold as ever, and the edge to his words make you sniffle. “what a dirty girl… it makes me almost pity her. almost.”

shidou pretends to pout, and he sticks his tongue out. you moan, your cheeks feeling sticky and hot from all of the dried tears smoothing over your skin. everything feels heavy and good, your pussy being pounded into a senseless mess from how rigorously shidou’s fucking his cock into you. it’s like he’s trying to force more and more of his cock up into your tight hole, attempting to spear himself all the way in until your hips hit the base of his cock, like he wants his tip to pry open your womb and flood you with all of his cum.

“i don’t know what else i expected out of the big meanie sae-chan… well, too bad that i’m the one that’s actually fucking her. you can be mean and awful all you want, but i think i want to cum inside of my girlfriend.” shidou laughs against the shell of your ear. a cold shudder runs down your spine when he nips at your skin again, your neck and face vulnerable to his teeth. “ooh, you’re tightening up against me again…! fuck- so fucking tight- so eager for cock, huh? yeah, i like this side of you sooooo much… you’re just sooooo cute when you can’t resist me!”

you sob openly, not sure who to turn to for help. sae won’t lift a finger, not when his tip is leaking angry pearly white beads of pre-cum and not when he’s more fixated on the fat tears welling at your eyes than anything else. you’re no better than a prey animal when shidou’s like this, determined to creampie you and imprint himself even further onto your pussy. no matter how much you writhe and try to catch a moment to breathe, he pulls you down even further on his cock and sends a jerk of hot pleasure straight up your crotch.

“cumming-,” you choke out, your words slurred out. if you were any more coherent, you’d be embarrassed with yourself for letting another man watch you orgasm this shamelessly on shidou’s cock, thighs pried and held open so that sae doesn’t miss a single detail of your pussy being spread apart and stretched out mercilessly on your boyfriend’s length. “ah- ryu- i can’t hold it in any more… your cock feels- feels too good…! ‘m cumming- ‘m cumming, i’m cumming- fuck- oh- ‘m gonna cum- gonna cum- gonna cum so- sooooo fucking hard…!”

your pussy clamps down like there’s no tomorrow around shidou’s dick when he angles his hips just right and yanks you down as far as he can down onto his lap. you let out a loud cry as heat rips through your body as if you’re made out of nothing. your brain is thrown into overdrive, your nerves and synapses working overtime to flood every inch of your body with pleasure and heat, your stomach furling in on itself almost painfully, pussy gushing lewdly as your juices soak shidou’s cock and your hole spurts and drools out your orgasm.

it’s like something inside of you breaks. sex with shidou always felt good, but something about this felt as if you had crossed a point of no return. you shudder and shake, reeling in the newfound pleasure. it’s like the pulsing nestled deep in your stomach pushes and pulls, like a second heartbeat tugging you downwards. it feels good, it feels so good, and you feel like a broken shell of something that was before, unable to push past the fog in your brain or the haziness in your eyes. 

you can vaguely make out the sound of shidou’s adoring laugh, and you cry out once more when he grinds up against you, rocking his hips into your ass and keeping you stuck down and trapped on his entire length. you’re squeezing him so nicely, your pretty pussy all fluttering and desperate around him, clenching him and milking him despite how shy and insistent you are that you’re above all of this. but you aren’t, and everything in this room knows that.

“hah- ahhh, you’re gonna take it all, aren’t you?” shidou breathes, his voice suddenly high-pitched and tinged with a crazed lust he reserves solely for you. your breath hitches in your throat when he leans towards your face and buries his head into the crook of your neck, and he inhales deep, greedy breaths of your scent. his cock is about to burst, all swollen and thick and wanting nothing more than to stuff every inch of your cunt with his semen. “that’s my girl… take it all! it isn’t meant for anyone else!”

you nearly go limp in his arms when his cum gushes into you. you can feel it shoot straight into your stomach, quite literally flooding what feels like every part of your insides. it’s hot, and it burns. and yet some part of you inwardly croons at how good it feels, like your pussy was made to catch all of shidou’s cum and to store it deep inside, to feel it swirl around you and leak out of your pulsing entrance, dripping down shidou’s engorged length and joining with the rest of the ivory ring built up at the base of his cock from all of your lovejuices mixing with his as he fucked you like an animal gone wild. 

shidou smiles to himself as he lets you sit there, with no choice but to be impaled on his dick, and he makes sure most of his cum is safely lodged deep into your insides before he maneuvers you expertly off of his length. 

you feel weak, and your limbs dangle limply as you slump over onto the mattress. shidou presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head and wipes at your eyelids carefully, and you bite back a shudder when you see him lick your salty tears from his thumb. he looks down at you with a look laced with both love and desire, and you’re brought back to reality.

“i think i’ve given you a good show, sae-chan,” he coos, glancing towards the stoic redhead. “she’s all yours now! don’t have too much fun though, you hear? even though i like you quite a bit, it’ll make me sad to see my girl feeling too good from another guy’s cock.”

“your mind knows no limits,” sae breathes as if he’s annoyed with shidou, but he still steps towards you without any hesitation. you choke back a teary-eyed hiccup as he looms over you, and you let him grab onto your thighs and spread your legs apart. your cunt still feels spent and sticky, and globs of shidou’s pearly white cum drips from your fluttering hole. 

sae’s adam’s apple bobs as he swallows thickly. you can’t tell if he likes the sight or not. he slots himself in between your spread legs, and he watches you with his pointed eyes. silently, carefully, like a snake laying in wait in the tall grass waiting for the moment you come down back fully to earth and understand the gravity of the situation you’re in.

your belly coils with the familiar thrums of arousal when his tip prods at your swollen clit. you let out a small gasp as sparks climb up your insides, settling somewhere deep in your stomach. you just had your brains fucked out by your boyfriend, your cunt spread apart by his thick cock, but you want dick inside of you again.

you wiggle your hips, and you think you see the edges of sae’s mouth twitch. he stares at you and the way shidou’s cum leaks out from your pussy and onto the tip of his cock.

“do you want it?” he asks plainly. you nod, knowing he’s going to be mean to you. he seems to get off on it, hurling insults at you and seeing your face stricken with tears. he seems like he’s just about to sneer at you, like he’s disgusted at the fact that he’s even in the same room as you, despite the fact that he’s literally grinding his slick cock against your sensitive folds.

“how awful. begging for another man’s cock right after having sex with your boyfriend… is this a part of some weird perverted fantasy you have? you two are perfect for each other, did you know that?” he clicks his tongue. you shudder uncontrollably. the edge to his words are sharp, and despite bracing yourself for it, you can feel hot tears kissing the corners of your eyes again. it hurts, it laces against your heart, but fuck, you’d be damned if you said it didn’t turn you on a bit.

your tears hang heavy off of your lashes, threatening to drip over your waterline, and for the first time since you’ve bared yourself to the two men, sae’s expression actually softens. you sniff pathetically, unable to form proper words, but he grabs at your hips. he leans in, and you stiffen, unsure whether to avoid him or to let him continue to come closer. you’re mesmerized by how unrealistically beautiful the redhead is: the fiery red strands of his hair are nothing like the icy turquoise of his eyes, and if you weren’t already so overwhelmed with the sensation of having an orgasm ripped from you and another man on top of you, you might have been starstruck truly.

his lips part slightly, and his tongue sneaks out from between. you clench your eyes shut, and something warm laps at your eyes, stealing your tears from your face. 

pressure taps at your cunt, and you let your head go limp as the stretch of penetration slowly grips you all over. you should be tired, should be worn out, but as the dull pleasure flickers inside you again, you find a moan bubbling up in the back of your throat. god, taking dick feels too good for you to ever not want it this badly. whereas shidou is always quick and skilled at drawing out an orgasm from you in record speeds, sae takes his time in penetrating you. it’s like he wants you to feel the stretch, wants you to feel the presence of his cock as he slides himself into you, and while your walls envelop his girth fully, he laps greedily at your heady tears.

“ah- sae…! ah- please- fuck me…,” you choke out. he bottoms out inside of you, and you can feel his balls pressed up against your hole. one hand reaches down, and you clench up around him when two fingers start to slowly rub circles into your puffy clit. it’s simultaneously too much and not enough at once, feeling him play with your clit while not moving his cock. the tender wetness of his tongue gliding over your face makes your head spin, and your pussy won’t stop gripping onto his length.

he breathes over your cheeks, the hot breath leaving you shivering. “dirty girl… who said you can demand things from me like that? shidou might let you get away with things like that because he likes it, but i’m not an easy man like that.”

“please-,” your voice sounds strained and needy, unlike your normally sweet but still firm cadence. “having your cock inside of me feels good- wanna feel more of you, please… please fuck me! i wanna feel you thrusting into me- wanna feel it, wanna have more of your cock inside- please, sae, please…”

“you don’t get to tell me how to move,” he hisses. he throbs and twitches inside you, and you can feel his balls tense up against your ass. but he draws his hips back slowly, giving one slow stroke, and that’s almost enough to make you fall apart. you throw your head back and let out a drawn out whine, your cunt fluttering violently against his swollen cock. he’s being mean to you, he’s being so, so mean to you, but your pussy feels full and good when his dick’s kissing your deepest parts.

if shidou had been pounding into you, sae keeps you begging for more. he treats his dick as if it’s something for you to earn, despite how he grinds upwards into you, the leaking head of his cock pressing straight into what feels like the entrance of your cervix. he keeps degrading you, muttering words that swim straight through your ears, and you keep crying those beautiful pearly tears that mar your vision and stain your cheeks. it drives him crazy, to break down such an innocent, beautiful girl into the worst, senseless version of herself, and he makes sure you know it, feel every second of it.

his pace is a bit faster now, but far from the animalistic sex you need to feed this uncontrollable side of yourself. the sound of your bodies connecting is nothing short of obscene, and sae drinks it all up as if you’ve mixed it personally just for him. you might as well have; you were meant to be offered up to him like some kind of sacrifice on a silver platter from the start, before you were even aware of the predicament you would be in.

“harder- harder- want more- please, fuck me harder…!” you sob pathetically. it’s humiliating, having to beg for a man’s cock in such a demeaning manner. you know words alone can’t convince sae, so you press your aching thighs apart further, using your hands to press them closer to your chest. the change in your position has his cock hitting deeper and more roughly into you, and your moans go from desperate cries to throaty chokes. you feel like you’re suffocating over your own breath, but the way you buck your hips against sae’s proves that there are far more pressing things in your mind than self-preservation. 

sae grits his teeth, and he slams his hips into you. his cock pumps in and out of your greedy hole, and your cunt grips onto him like it doesn’t want to let go. fuck—it almost makes sae mad over how good your body feels, especially after getting what feels like shidou’s sloppy seconds. his abs tense up as he sucks in a deep breath, the focus in his teal eyes starting to shake around the edges.

“thank you- thank you, thank you, thank you-,” you pant out helplessly when the full strokes are finally, finally where you wanted them to be at the start. you shake your head back and forth, entire body trembling and overwhelmed by the pleasure that consumes you. “feels so good- cock feels so good inside of me, sae- want to cum on it… want your cock to make me cum- make me pussy cum…!”

“you really are the worst,” sae laughs. his hair is sticking to his forehead, and despite how awful he is to you, he looks beautiful. “begging for another man’s cock in front of your boyfriend? don’t you have any sense of shame?”

“feels good-,” you weakly choke out, as if that was an excuse. you know shidou doesn’t mind. he was the one to drag you into this mess in the first place. sae really enjoys this farce, this holier-than-thou act, when everyone in the room knows that he’s just as twisted and depraved as you are. it takes two to have sex like this, and you sure as hell aren’t alone. “make me cum- please, i wanna cum…! i’ve been so good for you.”

sae hums to himself. his cock pulses inside of you. your pussy’s just as shameless as your mouth is, milking him every second he stays buried into your hole, and it feels like your inner walls are begging him for his cum too. you must really like being treated like this, your pussy filled up over and over again with cum, not caring if it was your boyfriend or a man that your boyfriend happened to feel comfortable handing you over to. what a greedy girl you were.

“you wanna cum?” he sneers. “do you think you deserve it? all you’ve done is lay there and cry and take my dick. so demanding…”

you shudder, seeing stars. you can feel your orgasm building up and laying in wait deep in your belly, just begging for a few more harsh thrusts to topple you over the edge. shidou had fucked you out so good before, and you needed a taste of that pleasure again. you already felt so good stretched out and humiliated like this on sae’s cock that you could only imagine how much better finally getting your release would feel.

“you’re so mean to me… just wanna cum-,” you sniffle out. your voice wobbles, and sae grunts when a fresh wave of tears threaten to overtake you. it’s embarrassing how a crying girl might be the thing that gets him to snap, so he grits his teeth and bucks his hips harshly into you. 

it’s your fault. all of this is your fault. he can’t admit to himself that this turns him on, that seeing you sob and wail and writhe has him wanting to blow his fat load inside of you. that would be too much for him, to cum inside of you and then have you cry just from the sheer pleasure of it. to take dick so good that it makes you fall apart and bawl senselessly as if you’re his girl, not shidou’s.

“yeah, that’s right-,” he grunts under his breath. “go ahead and cum then. if you really want to end up as a mess on my cock, then i’m not stopping you. make a show for your boyfriend then, huh? let him see you crying and screaming from how good you feel on my dick. you have him to thank for landing you in this position to begin with.”

you swallow back a shaky inhale. your vision had been blurred over a long time ago, but right now, with your entire body weighed down with nonstop arousal, you feel like you’re seeing stars. it feels so good and it hurts, but it hurts in a way that has you moving your hips lewdly and wanting him to stuff your already cumdrenched pussy with his load. 

he thrusts sharply in you. again and again and again, until his entire length is stretching you and bullying your cunt open, his cockhead slamming into your g-spot over and over until the pangs inside of your pussy start pounding against the inside of your skull. your moans are melting away into incoherent slurred noises, barely gasping out his name.

“sae- sae…! ohhhhh, fuck- fuck, so deep- so hard…” your body shakes, and your voice sounds unrecognizable. sae likes this too much, likes seeing how broken you are because of his own machinations. he grits his teeth, the bed shaking and his pace nearly falling apart, his thrusts messy and awful and everything you need.

you cum with a silent cry. your back arches, and your hands scramble to try to grip onto anything to steady yourself. your fingernails dig into your own flesh, your thighs aching and screaming in pain despite the numbing pleasure that crashes entirely over you. fuck, everything feels so fucking good, and your brain feels like it’s melting out of your ears as your orgasm grips every one of your synapses. tears glide down your face without any restraint, and your sobs echo throughout your ears as you turn into a truly fucked out mess.

sae grunts, his own voice low and muffled, when he feels your cunt clamping down on him and a sudden warmth engulfing his whole cock. his self control wavers when he feels you creaming around him, your pussy milking his cock. it’s like your walls are clinging to every inch, every ridge of his length and refusing to let go, pulsing all around him like you want him to unload inside of you and paint your insides completely white again. of course you do, you’ve been begging for it this entire time. being creampied once by your boyfriend isn’t simply enough for you anymore, sae knows, you need him to do it again and to overwhelm you with his twisted desire.

you gasp when he fucks you roughly through your orgasm. it’s almost too much, your stunned cunt keening with overstimulation when the faint sparks start flying again. sae mutters something you can’t quite pick up, and he slams into you hard, enough to have you recoiling backwards.

his cum explodes inside of you as he hangs his head, his breathing unsteady as he stays buried deep inside of you. it’s as if he wants to drown out shidou’s cum with his own, scalding lines of white cum. it’s blasphemous, how good it feels, and if sae wasn’t feeling so out of body right now, he would be mad at the fact that a mere girl—shidou’s girlfriend, no less—could knock him off of his high throne like this.

you don’t get any reprieve from the whole thing. sae yanks himself out of you the moment his grounded rationale seeps back into his brain, and you whimper in protest. your spent hole feels so empty without a cock to stretch you out, but you feel dazed and heavy and warm. their cum mixing together fills you up, and some of it leaks out of you in a lewd rivulet, dripping in such a tantalizing manner down the flesh of your ass.

sae leans over to grip your face harshly, tilting your face so that you meet his eyes. his hold on you tightens to an almost painful extent when he sees the final remnants of your tears swimming in a clear layer over your puffy eyes, the evaporated marks on your damp cheeks, your lashes wet from everything that you had faced. 

you’re pretty, pretty when you’re stained with cum and tears and all of the filth that sae’s dumped onto you.

shidou slinks up behind him with his usual strange smile, and he snakes his arms over sae’s neck from behind. “what a good show, sae-chan! my girl’s amazing, isn’t she? look at her now… ooh, it makes me want to fuck her all over again.”

sae sucks in a deep breath as he watches shidou prance over to you to press a sickly kiss to your forehead, and his adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. shidou peers up at sae as if to mock him when he kisses your eyes, the taste of your salty tears spreading across the inside of his mouth.

it’s irritating. it’s annoying. his cock stirs again, and his lower stomach flares with warmth again.

was this the game shidou had planned from the start? sae didn’t care; the result wouldn’t have changed. the only certain thing now is the way these two men circle you like a pair of vultures descending upon their next meal, the hunger in their eyes primal and filled with an unspoken anticipation. you should be cowering away from the intensity, but you’re right there with them.

shidou giggles as a large hand caresses your bare knee. “that’s a good girl… now that you’ve taken each of us individually and sae-chan’s gotten all nice and warmed up, it’s time to get to the main event, don’t you think?”

“...the way you talk about it like it’s some game makes my skin crawl,” sae’s cold voice sighs. something sticky and hard brushes against your calves when two hands coax your legs open again, and your cunt clenches weakly with arousal, heat licking around your insides shakily. your cunt, still leaking with cum, is bared fully for the two men to enjoy in their own respective ways.

you close your eyes momentarily, your tear-filled vision finally turning to black. 

“ready to take both of us at once?”

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[jacevelaryonswife]

Hiding all of our sins from the daylight | Part Two

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x reader

summary: Even if you were willing to forget what happened, when you saw the prince that morning you knew that your relationship would never be the same.

word count: 3.191

tags: slight angst and adult themes

masterlist — previous part

A bond germinated between the prince and you as the days went by. There was no sin in your conversations, but a servant could never be friends with a nobleman, and above all: a woman could never be friends with a man. Although you believed that the existing dynamics with Jacaerys Velaryon did not fit into any of the previous options. It was your duty to be available to the prince of Dragonstone for what he wanted, and at the time, he needed a thoughtful listener.

"I don't want to fill my mother's head with my worries, even though I know she would listen. She is the queen and we are at war, it’s not time for this," was his justification.

The trust between you has developed slowly.

How are you feeling? Do you want to say something? Do you need anything?

It was the questions that guided the days following the incident with the wine. Over time, the prince began to report his dissatisfaction with the black council, either because of the way the queen didn’t let him act or how the other lords did not respect her enough.

"I just want to be useful for her cause, but she sees me as an incapable little boy," he shouted one of the times that the queen did not allow him to guard with Vermax.

"The queen cares about your safety, my prince. She suffers enough from the death of Prince Lucerys, she doesn't want to risk your life.”

“I'm not going to die!”

"You can't guarantee that, my prince."

And despite sometimes regretting not being formal enough in your answers, the prince showed satisfaction in the sincerity of your words more than once. Obviously no mention of your conversations with him was made for the other girls, you found it too dangerous.

And if there was anything beneficial for you, it was the opening that Rhaenyra Targaryen's heir gave so that your thoughts and feelings were also exposed. Superficial at first, experimental, but that became more intimate over the weeks.

"I try to keep myself constantly busy to ease my concerns about the war, but it's not working as I would like. Every night before bed I think about the worst,” you confessed a day after dinner, during the hour of the bat.

“Me too.”

The conversations became routine during breakfast while you cleaned his chambers and after dinner when you helped him sleep. Secretly, those were your favorite moments throughout the day, although you didn't want to admit it for a while.

The only problem with intimacy was to make you forget your place.

Sometimes, almost, an unweighted response was almost directed to the prince. Other times the physical comfort seemed to extrapolate while you smoothed his dark curls, although he did not manifest discomfort. He never did, actually. Maybe that influenced your behavior around him, especially when he began to reciprocate the attempt of comfort, touching your hand with nothing but respect and delicacy, although firm enough to be felt while you confessed your fears to him.

It was dangerous to allow such closeness to the prince.

You were no stranger to the stories of servants who fell in love with their lords, reciprocated or platonic, it was not something you sought to fantasize, promising yourself that you would immediately move away in the first different twinge in your heart. Although, dealing with feelings was not that simple.

That night, the prince was enthusiastic about the diplomatic experience with the Freys, telling every detail of the conversation accurately. He seemed quite proud to be useful, even the frown present in his feature in the last few days had disappeared.

“When I was a child, Viserys told me the Iron Throne would be mine one day,” Jace commented with a rare smile these days.

"He told?" You asked, knowing very well that it was true.

"A long time ago, before his health got worse, I think I was six years old," he replied on the other side of the table, keeping his smile open.

"Have you ever imagined yourself there?" A silly question, you thought.

“Sometimes, especially before war. Now I feel like I'm cheating on my mother,” his face hardened softly as he looked down.

"You are the heir of the Queen, it is not wrong to imagine your future," you tried to comfort him with the obviousness of the situation, although you understood what was going on in the prince's head and heart.

“I know, but just seems wrong,” he countered, looking at you. “How about you?”

“Me?”

"Have you never imagined yourself being the Queen?"

That made you chuckle. "There is a barrier that people like me should not overcome, even in thoughts," you almost laughing at him.

"Please, everyone has thought about sitting on the iron throne," he leaned totally against the chair, watching you with frowning eyebrows and a smile on his lips. as he totally leaned against the chair.

"I never thought such a absurd," you reinforced.

"I doubt it, have you never thought about being a noblewoman?"

"Of course I thought! I would be pleased to be the ugly daughter that no lord wants to marry, so I could enjoy my position without having only my side a decrepit old man as lord husband. But the Queen? I've never dared so much."

He laughed loudly and his eyes almost closed. "Well, I think it's a good plan, but I believe you would be a fine Queen."

That took you by surprise.

The absurdity of the statement made your eyes widen and your cheeks warm up. "And you will be a fine King," you replied with a giggle, doing little of what he had said - even you believed faithfully in your own statement.

Suddenly, you felt his gaze endure on yours in a different, more intense way, as if... he was seeing you, totally seeing you.

And that made your heart warm.

No, no!

“I must go, my prince. It's late,” you stood up immediately. "Do you need anything?"

He took a while to respond, shaking his head negatively. "N-no, I don't," getting up to accompany you to the door. "Listen, I- I have to say something to you."

Your heart was beating faster than usual and continuing in the presence of the prince did not improve the situation. You didn't know why you felt so suddenly affected, but you imagined that it was the ideal time to reassess the proximity to him.

“I would like to thank you for the support in these weeks, for listening to me,” he said.

"You don't have to thank me, my prince, it's my duty," you exhibited a restrained smile, holding your hands in front of your body.

“I know it's just-“

The previous look that made your heart warm returned, however, more nervous, afraid as he approached you. His hands held your face gently, not giving you time to move away before he leaned over to touch your lips. You froze in place, not being able to move a single member, even after the prince had moved away with terror in his eyes.

"I... I'm sorry, I didn't want to disrespect you, I promise," he said in despair, faster than he intended. "This is not going to happen again, I-

"It won't," you said, heart almost coming out of the chest, "We can't do that, Jace, I'm your servant- that-"

"It was my fault, I'm the one who has to beg for your forgiveness, I dishonored you," he almost spoke too loudly, almost.

"You didn't dishonor me!" You exclaimed as if it were obvious. "But that can't happen again. You are the heir to the iron throne and I am just a servant of low birth, there is no hope for us," your voice almost failed.

When Jace's eyes found the ground, his posture changed, the nervousness turned into something you didn't know how to identify, even though your own anguish was still very vivid while your heart beat fast.

"It's unfair," was all he said when he looked at you again.

“Indeed.”

A squeeze formed in your chest every second that your eyes remained connected, along with a restlessness that you did not know resided in your body until now. No, no, no...

In a bold attitude, you held his hands, uncertain of what to say, uncertain of what to do and uncertain of what you felt for him. It wasn't possible. Nothing, not a single word came out of your mouth while your heart beat faster and faster.

You shouldn't, you knew that, but maybe... maybe...

It was your turn to approach him, cautiously, absorbed in the brown of his iris and the way he mirrored your look.

There was no hurry to meet your lips this time, nor does it take long to be reciprocated. It was the kind of affection that women should have only with their lords husbands in the intimacy of their chambers, not with the prince of the kingdom whom you served and could harm yourself if you were caught.

But it seemed so right.

Your heart pumped soft fire through your body as the kiss gained layers, encouraging you to intertwine your fingers with his. It was not lascivious or obscene, but it involved your body during the act and made you float in the sweetness of his lips before it came to an end mutually.

Your hand slid to the side of his flushed face, smoothing his cheek gently. Even though part of your mind dealt with the turbulence of the situation, the other was delighted with the fullness of serenity.

"I've never been with a woman," he murmured about your touch, reluctantly. "I never wanted to ruin a woman outside of marriage."

Oh. That took you by surprise.

In fact, that brought you to reality again, but without the previous panic.

"You did it right," you comforted him with a restrained smile, feeling nervous. "There is no shame in that."

"I know, but I don't feel secure thinking about it."

Honestly, you didn't know what to say, but you knew that that situation could take a dangerous turn if it were prolonged. He could not consider such an act even for a second, so you just said goodbye to him immediately.

"It's late, you should rest, my prince."

The storm in his eyes almost snatched you together, but there was still prudence in your mind. There was no dispute on his part, allowing you to be involved by the coldness of the corridors until your rooms shared with the other servants. Although sleep wrapped around your body quickly, the prince stole your dreams with memories of what had happened.

When the nightingale time came, his image seemed almost palpable to your eyes. All you could remember were the lips of the princes against yours, the proximity, the softness of his hand, the way he looked at you.

It was dangerous.

All that was dangerous.

Especially for you. Nurturing an additional affection for the prince of the kingdom was a path of no return for ordinary people. There was no hope for you. There was no future between you. He would marry a lady of a important family and have little princes while you would perform your duty serving the next royal generations.

Even if you were willing to forget what happened, when you saw Jace that morning you knew that your relationship would never be the same.

"Good morning, my prince," was all you said when you entered his chambers.

Judging by the way the prince's gaze found yours, you believed he thought the same. “Good morning,” he replied in front of the window.

You left the breakfast on the table and went to organize the luxurious bed - unkneading the sheets and squeezing the pillows without looking at him while doing your work. Even though it was a rational attitude, the smell that emanated from the fabric transported you directly to last night, to the warmth of his lips, to the comfort of your hands and to the soft fire that warmed your veins.

Suddenly, you found yourself wanting more.

The subtle spark quickly turned into a fire, making you want to dive into bed and be surrounded by his smell, wanting to be kissed again in a sweet way, wanting his body pressed above your...

Wanting to make love to him.

Seven hells. No, it couldn't be.

The realization of the fact clouded your mind.

You felt nothing but the burning between your thighs, not even the repetitive call of your name by the prince. You wanted it, you wanted it, you wanted it.

You shouldn't, you shouldn't, you shouldn't.

In all these years you have performed your duty to the kingdom without any ambitions. Now, you believe you deserve enjoying a great pleasure and a great sin.

That's when the hand on your shoulder along with a call brought you back to reality.

"Are you okay?" The prince asked behind you.

There was nowhere to escape. And honestly, you didn't want to.

Taking him by surprise, you held both sides of his face and leaned over to capture his lips in a sweeping and demanding kiss, contrasting with the softness of the night before. Jace immediately corresponded, tying your waist and bringing your body closer to his. There was no fear in the way your lips moved or with the lack of distance between your bodies, on the contrary, you deepened the kiss and wrapped a hand behind his neck, breaking any space between you.

He reciprocated the vigor with the same intensity, savoring your lips as if they were the only thing that lacked him in life, almost pulling the air out of your lungs. You felt surrounded by the dragon fire and silently prayed to the Mother for your body to burn.

“I dreamed with you all night,” he whispered close to your lips, holding you close.

“Me too,” you slitted the apple from his cheek with your thumb. His lips were red, swollen, shiny and so tempting...

When you were about to lean again, knocks echoed from the door and made you jump back immediately, resuming your attention to the bed while the prince went to the breakfast table.

It was the Queen herself, talking to the prince of Dragonstone at the same time that you made a greeting to her.

“I wish to speak alone with prince Jacaerys.”

No other command was needed. With one last greeting, you left Jacaerys' chambers with a racing heart and trembling steps, as if walking on embers. The consequences of your actions would be disastrous if discovered, you were not foolish, but you couldn't help but want more. And can't you help but think about how that happened?

When did such a feeling arise and develop?

It was the questioning that guided your rest of the morning, the whole afternoon and the beginning of the evening. The duties kept him away from you, fueling concerns about a possible worsening for the queen's cause. Because of that, you decided to occupy yourself in the only way you knew: working.

You swept, cleaned, aired and washed until you were tired and coughing because of the dust.

At the end of the additional service, you went to the rooms shared with the other girls to clean yourself and be presentable to him, hoping to be able to see him during dinner.

It was insane, you knew that, but you couldn't help it. You wanted it, despite what it would imply.

And when thinking about what to enjoy with the prince would result, you realized something too serious to be ignored. What if you generated a bastard? Oh gods. Where were you with your head? How did you consider losing your maidenhead with a prince of the kingdom? It would be a scandal! You would be ruined! The queen would send you away, maybe to Essos at worst.

Nothing was effective to keep those thoughts away from your head, especially when you held his dinner with trembling hands. Everything got worse when he offered you a wide smile when entering his rooms, making you freeze briefly before walking to the table and greeting you with a reverence.

“Good evening, my prince,” you forced yourself to say.

“Good evening, my lady,” he replied humorously. "I missed you."

No, no, no.

You smiled insecure and looked down, unable to answer back.

“What's wrong?” He asked when he went to your meeting.

What should you say?

“I can't do that,” you chose to be brutally honest. "I can't get pregnant, I can't have a-" you couldn't say such a word, not in front of him, and you prayed that he wouldn't feel offended.

Unfortunately, his jaw closed and the posture hardened. Heavens.

"... a bastard?" He asked in a strangled voice. "I would never impute such a burden to you."

Your heart squeezed while remaining silent, too nervous to say anything. He seemed angry, creating a fear in your mind about the dragon's fury.

“And I would never dishonor you,” he added, holding your hands as his brown eyes warmed up. But that was Jacaerys, your prince and your friend who would never hurt you.

“I know,” you agreed with a nod and intertwined your fingers with his, being able to breathe relieved at last.

"Are you hungry?"

"No, I'm fine," you assured him with a soft smile.

"Eat with me, I don't have a big appetite."

You knew how to identify an order when you heard it. Of all the sins done and thought of in the last hours, sharing the meal with a prince was not so excruciating.

Sitting in front of him, you took a piece of bread and soaked it in the mushroom broth, watching him drink a generous sip of mead. None of you said anything for a while, leaving the noise of the violent sea wind that crashed against the walls of the castle being the only sound so far.

"What are we going to do?" He just asked.

"I don't know," you replied sincerely. "I think we should go back our dynamics, we can't be more than we are," your voice was lower than usual.

“I like being with you,” he said.

“Me too, Jace, but there's no hope for us,” you held his hand. "This will only break our hearts."

Although painful, that was the only truth that existed. He would never be yours. He would never abandon his duty to the kingdom for you, the opposite was just daydreams and songs invented to make ordinary life less gray. You were and would continue to be a servant and Jacaerys Velaryon would be just a sweet memory of something that could never happen.

Because that was just the order of things.

——————————————————————————

taglist: @hxtd @fkanitta @ladyofvelaryon @llynx7 @briarrainsstuff @jhepolie @dani-says-stuff @vavafaure1994 @fallenangel161 @naive-daydreamer @uhnanix @yrcbhu5wdv

a note: I know it take a while, but I really put all my efforts in here!

[wholoveseggs]

Huhu, me again :) As I am re-reading your stories while stuck at home with the flu, I was thinking of another possible story: Reader is Rebecca's friend and a high-end prostitute. She has seen and experienced some rough things and is not trusting around men at all. Elijah is in love with her, but she will only accept him as a client (just sex for money, no kissing, no tenderness). He does everything in his power to change her mind.

Thanks, ❤️. Hope you have a lovely weekend!

Safe

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

In a world where trust is hard to come by, you've learned to keep your guard up, especially around men. But when Elijah enters your life, he's determined to break through your defenses, venturing into a realm of passion, pain, and the search for something real.

♡♡ Thanks for the request @originals23 I always adore your requests! Hope you are feeling better ♡♡

8.2k words - Warnings: smut, oral sex, white knight Elijah, lots of fluff and affection, Rebekah being badass...

PLEASE NOTE: this has descriptions of sexual assault, trauma & violence... don't read if these things trigger you ♡♡♡

Elijah considered himself a man of experience. He had seen and done everything in his many centuries. He was no stranger to the ways of the world, to the ways of power, to the ways of pleasure.

He watched society evolve and change in many ways, but some things always stayed the same, even after one thousand years.

Elijah knew what he was to women, the way they would fawn over him, the way they would throw themselves at him. It had never bothered him, he used this privilege to disarm potential threats, to protect those he loves.

Never in his long years had he considered paying for sex, he was not the kind of man that needed to pay for a woman's affections. He was a gentleman, he treated women with respect, courted them, loved them.

But then, there was you.

He would meet you in hotels, only the most luxurious, expensive, exclusive ones, where no questions were asked, and privacy was guaranteed.

You were always punctual and dressed to the nines, always with the most stunning outfits, the finest dresses, the highest heels. Your hair was always perfectly styled, your makeup expertly done. 

You were far more put together than he could ever be. It made him want to believe that it was all just for him, but he knew better than that. You looked expensive because you were expensive.

The first time was a complete whim, a moment of weakness. He met you through his sister, at an event she was hosting. He tried to get you in his bed the old fashioned way, with his charm, and it almost worked. He was not used to rejection. But, he got the impression that it was not personal, for you it was just business.

So, he took a chance and hired you for the night. You were not expecting it, he could tell, but you quickly hid it behind a mask of professionalism.

The sex was... Immaculate. He would be a fool to say anything else. In his many centuries of living, he had experienced his fair share of pleasures. He was an excellent lover, he knew it, he prided himself in being one, but you were the first woman he had been with, where he felt like the student.

He would never forget the image of you on your knees before him, with your red lips wrapped around his cock, the sight would stay burned into his retinas for eternity.

You were the perfect companion, always the right thing to say, the right thing to do. You would only give, and never take, leaving him wanting more.

After your first meeting, he became a regular, every Friday at 8pm at the Roosevelt Hotel.

It had become his routine, you would arrive dressed in something different each time, more breathtaking than the last. And each Friday, you would repeat the same motions; meet him at the bar, have a drink, make small talk, before inevitably returning to his hotel room.

You never looked him in the eyes when you rode him, head thrown back in ecstasy, legs trembling and breasts bouncing, the very vision of sin.

You were all fire and passion, never letting your heart get involved, as was your work's rule. Always just fucking, no kissing, no affection, never sharing anything that had the smallest ounce of intimacy.

There was only once where he would have thought he saw an ounce of vulnerability in your eyes.

On that particular Friday, Elijah had arranged for the room to have flowers and champagne and a wonderful spread for dinner. When you arrived, he greeted you the same way he always did, taking you in his arms, feeling the weight of you pressed against him. When he released you from the embrace, he turned to lead you to the couch, but found your cheeks tinged with pink and tears running down your face.

That was new.

You composed yourself almost immediately, a smile returning to your beautiful face. The moment passed. You apologized, saying the roses were so lovely, you felt a bit sentimental for a moment.

He wanted to call it out, but he was not a fool; you were crying because you were moved. He wondered if anyone had treated you with sincerity before. But he held his tongue, only responding that he was glad you liked them.

You drew him in like a moth to a flame. Your beauty, your intelligence, your wit, it all appealed to him, but there was something else, something he couldn't put his finger on.

He wasn't sure what it was, why you affected him so. Perhaps it was the mystery, the fact that he could never really get close to you, not like he wanted.

You were the perfect escort, always attentive, always beautiful, always ready to please. But you were also distant, aloof. You didn't want any affection from him, or to speak of romance, of love.

Your emotional unavailability felt like a mirror, reflecting his own loneliness, his own fear of intimacy.

He wondered how somebody so young, with so little years behind them, could harbor such pain behind their eyes.

Perhaps that is what drew him to you, the possibility that you could understand him, the darkness that lived inside him, the burden of immortality, the isolation that came with it.

He wanted to know you, not just the performance you put on for him, but what lies underneath the façade.

But you didn't allow him to. You kept him at arm's length, never letting him get too close.

He tried to be respectful, he tried not to push you, but he found himself wanting more, wanting things he shouldn't.

You were a good girl, you gave him what he paid for, nothing more. But he wanted more, he wanted you. He wanted to take you out on a date, to spoil you, to make you feel loved, to show you the world.

But he knew that would never happen. You were a professional, and he was just another client. Still, he couldn't help but wonder, couldn't help but hope.

He would keep coming back, and maybe one day, you would let him in. Maybe one day, he would finally get to show you the truth of his feelings.

Maybe one day, you would fall in love with him, too.

You were on another date with a new client, you always met them in public first, making sure they were who they claimed to be before you headed to the hotel.

You were always cautious, using protection, staying safe, trusting your instincts.

You tried your best not to judge your clients, you didn't know why they sought you out instead of dating. For some, it was simply convenience, for others, it was something more sinister. You worked hard to keep the latter far away from you.

This client was a bit shy, he wouldn't meet your gaze or answer any of your questions. It was like pulling teeth. But he didn't have that "off" vibe. Maybe he was just uncomfortable around women and that's why he sought you out.

He seemed to loosen up after a few drinks, his smile becoming more confident, his laugh deepening. His hands would occasionally drift toward your thigh as he leaned in close to talk.

"I rented the penthouse for tonight, it comes with a hot tub," he said awkwardly.

"Oh, that's nice," you tried to sound interested, taking a fake sip of your drink. You never drank or consumed anything while working. You had a fear of being drugged, you prioritized staying alert when with new clients.

"Would you care to see it?" his tone was low and raspy, and his gaze darkened with arousal.

"Of course," you smirked, taking his hand as he led you out of the bar.

Your phone buzzed, it was a text from Rebekah; she always made sure to check in when you were meeting new clients. You smiled, knowing she was looking out for you. The two of you had an emergency plan, if you ever felt unsafe, all you had to do was text her the word 'trouble' and she would come running, and wouldn't hesitate to defend you.

This was another reason you loved being friends with Rebekah, despite the vampire thing, her overprotectiveness of the people she cared for, she was so fierce. It felt good to have someone watch your back in a business such as this. That hasn't always been the case for you.

You texted her your hotel and room number as usual, trying not to let your mind wander to her brother. It was unprofessional to be thinking about him while you were with another client, but you couldn't help it.

It had been nearly three months since you began your arrangement with Elijah, and yet he was always the one that occupied your thoughts, plaguing your dreams, controlling your waking thoughts, your fantasies.

Never had a client affected you in such a way. Sure, you had attractive and charming men seeking your company, ones that smelled nice and tipped well. But Elijah was something else entirely. He made you feel things you didn't want to feel, you had rules, boundaries, reasons to keep a safe distance. Yet with every encounter, you were drawn deeper and deeper.

You pushed the image of him out of your mind, focusing on your present client. In the elevator, his hands were all over you, pawing at you like a horny teen. Clearly, he was very excited about what was going to happen when you got to the penthouse.

"Baby, slow down, we've got all night," you reminded him, hoping he would calm down.

He ignored you and leaned in to kiss you, he was new, so you politely pushed on his chest and let him know what your rules were.

"Hold on baby, there are rules, remember?" you said, pushing his hands away.

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I thought that was just a scam, you know, a way to drive up the price," he said, his hand going to his pocket, pulling out his wallet. "How much extra are we talking?"

You could see his wallet was thick with cash and you felt sick, but you played it cool. "Those are my boundaries, honey. No kissing, protection mandatory, no touching unless I say so. That's just how I do business," you said, flashing him a bright smile.

He looked disappointed, but he didn't push. "Fine," he said, putting his wallet away.

You reached the top floor and he led you to the penthouse suite, opening the door and stepping aside. "After you," he said, his voice filled with barely contained desire.

The suite was luxurious, but not the best you've seen. There was a hot tub in the corner and a huge king sized bed. The bathroom was stocked with expensive toiletries and there was a large TV.

"Take your clothes off," he demanded, taking a seat on the bed.

He was far more assertive now that you were alone with him, more controlling. This wasn't too bad, you could work with that. He was older, his hair was a dirty blonde, starting to recede, he was kind of handsome if you squinted.

You began to strip, revealing your black lace lingerie. Your red dress fell to the floor in a puddle of fabric and you heard him growl with excitement.

He eyed you hungrily, licking his lips. "How many hours did I pay for again?" he asked, his voice dripping with lust.

"Five, and I've already started the clock," you said, giving him a coy smile.

"Good," he said, pulling out his wallet and tossing it on the bed. "Come here."

You walked over, stopping in front of him. He reached up, grabbing your breast roughly. "You have great tits," he said, squeezing.

You smiled at him, pretending to enjoy it. You knew he was paying for this, for the fantasy. You pride yourself on your performance, making sure your clients are happy, but you could already tell this was going to be a long couple of hours.

He seemed impatient, rough and demanding. Not exactly your favorite, but this was part of the job. Besides, you had been through worse.

"Are you ready for me?" he asked, his fingers digging into your flesh.

"Yes, sir," you replied, playing the part.

He grabbed your face roughly, making you look into his eyes, then everything became strange, fuzzy, distorted.

Your body felt numb, like you were floating, the room was spinning, and you had the strange sensation of being both in your body and outside it.

You were riding him, you didn't remember how you got there, or when he took his clothes off, but there he was, his cock filling you.

He was groaning and moaning beneath you, his hands gripping your hips tightly. Your neck hurt, your breasts hurt, your thighs hurt, you looked down to see deep bite marks all over you, blood running down your skin.

You blinked, and suddenly you were on your back, the bedspread covered in blood, your blood. You looked up at the man above you, his mouth twisted into a cruel smirk, his eyes completely black.

"What's wrong, sweetheart? Not enjoying yourself?" he sneered, his hand going to your throat. He squeezed, cutting off your air supply.

You gasped, struggling to breathe. Your lungs burned, your eyes filled with tears.

"What did you do to me?" You said, your voice sounding like it was coming from far away. He couldn't have drugged you, you didn't consume anything with him, you were always so careful.

He bit into your neck, his fangs sinking into your skin, holding you down with incredible strength. Cold fear ran through your veins, he was like Rebekah, like Elijah, he was a vampire.

You struggled, trying to fight him off, but you couldn't move, his strength was overwhelming. You felt him drinking your blood, his teeth tearing through your skin.

He pulled back, rolling off of you, lying beside you. "Don't worry, sweetheart, it'll only hurt for a minute," he said, his voice full of malicious glee. "Go wash up for round two," he demanded.

You sat up, trying to gather yourself. You needed to get out of there, and fast. You were bleeding heavily, and the world was still spinning.

He got off the bed and headed to the kitchenette, the sounds of glasses clinking and liquid pouring into a glass filled the air. He must've been getting a drink.

You were lightheaded from the blood loss, your legs shaky. You searched for your purse on the floor, the room looked different, distorted, and you couldn't find the damn thing anywhere. You were losing precious seconds looking for it, your adrenaline keeping the panic at bay.

You caught sight of it, it was beside the night table. You snatched it up and grabbed your phone, typing out the word 'trouble' to send it to Rebekah, hoping the word was enough for her to get the message.

You felt his hands on you again, a hard tug against your hair.

"Back on the bed like a good little whore," he hissed, throwing you on the bed. "I wasn't done with you."

He flipped you onto your stomach, hiking one leg up and exposing you to him. The edges of your vision grew dark, and you could hear your heartbeat growing slower, weaker. You tried to scream, but no sound came out.

You were going to die. He was going to kill you, and no one would know. Rebekah wouldn't come. You would be gone, and no one would ever find you.

Then, as your vision faded to black, all you could think of was how this was the end, how you didn't want to die this way. You had fought so hard to escape this fate, to be someone; something better than this, and yet, here you were, being raped and killed by a monster.

In the darkness you heard a bang, the cracking of wood. Someone was yelling, there was a struggle.

Then, a hand on your face, warm, soft. You heard a familiar voice, a voice that made your heart skip a beat.

"Elijah," you whispered, barely audible.

"I'm here, I'm here," he said, his voice full of panic.

You felt him press his wrist to your lips, his own blood filling your mouth. "Drink," he said softly, and you obeyed.

His blood sent a wave of heat through your body, the pain receding. You drank deeply, the world growing clearer.

You opened your eyes, his worried face above yours. He immediately pulled off his suit jacket and wrapped it around your naked form, scooping you up and cradling you in his arms.

You clung to him, feeling the last vestiges of the monster's compulsion fade. You could see Rebekah standing over the man, whose spine was in her hand, her eyes dark with rage.

You were suddenly aware of the gravity of the situation, and tears began to stream down your face. You sobbed, the trauma, the horror of what had almost happened hitting you full force. You thought you had escaped this life, that it was all in your past, but it was there, fresh and ugly, rearing its head like a hydra, reminding you it would always be a part of you.

Elijah held you tightly, whispering soothing words as Rebekah inspected the body. He was solid, strong, his arms encircling you, holding you together.

"Who is he? One of Marcel's?" Elijah asked, his voice low and angry.

"He better not be," she said, taking a picture of the vampire's face and sending it to someone.

She stood up, wiping her hands on her pants, the blood from the dead vampire staining the fabric. "I'll take care of it," she said, her voice hard and cold. "Get her home," she said, gesturing to you.

Elijah nodded, carrying you out of the room. You clung to him, trying not to fall apart, not to let the pain overwhelm you. He helped you get dressed, you felt like you were outside of your body, watching the events unfold from somewhere above, somewhere safe.

It was the same place you went before. When you were younger, when you were forced into this life, it was a coping mechanism, a way to protect yourself from the horror of it all. It was a way to survive, and it was serving you now, letting you function as your body went through the motions.

You found yourself in Elijah's car, his smell surrounding you. You buried your face in his suit jacket, inhaling his scent, letting it ground you.

He was quiet, his face grim, his jaw clenched. He drove quickly, his hands gripping the steering wheel. You expected a lecture about your lifestyle, perhaps a few well-meaning but patronizing comments about how you should change, should find a new line of work.

But he said nothing. He didn't judge, didn't make you feel small, or dirty. He simply drove, his presence a balm on your battered soul.

You arrived at your building, standing at your doorway, trying to find your keys. Your hands were shaking, and he gently took them from you, unlocking the door.

You stepped inside, feeling a sense of relief. You were safe now, he had saved you, and you were home. You turned to see him still waiting in the doorway, his eyes full of concern.

"You don't have to invite me in," he said softly. "I'll wait out here until I know you're safe."

Your heart melted a little, his kindness catching you off guard. He was a gentleman, and his chivalry touched something deep inside you.

You could feel yourself being pulled toward him, and it took all of your resolve to pull back, to remind yourself of the lines, the rules, and boundaries.

"It's okay, you can come in," you said.

He nodded, stepping into the apartment, closing the door behind him. He stood there awkwardly, it was breaking all the rules, being at your home, and he was unsure of the boundaries.

He could see you, the real you, in every facet of your home. From the paintings to the books, the carefully curated pieces of your life. It felt so personal, to be standing in this space, and he could see the pain and vulnerability, the fight in you. The beautiful complexity. It was so... human, to see your life displayed so honestly, no veneer, no illusion, no façade.

"I'm going to take a shower, make yourself at home," you said, gesturing towards the living room.

He nodded, moving towards the couch, taking a seat.

You disappeared into the bathroom, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

He was angry, furious. Marcel better have answers as to why some random vampire was in the quarter attacking people, because if he didn't, there would be hell to pay.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his rage. He could hear the water running, and he tried not to think about you, what you just went through, what could have happened.

It all happened so fast, one moment he's in the compound, the next he's following Rebekah into a hotel room, watching her rip the spine from that vile beast.

Seeing you there, pale and lifeless, made him snap. He felt something shift inside him, his mind clouded by anger. In the years he lived, Elijah prided himself on being a rational man. He didn't lose control often, or ever, really, but at that moment, seeing you there, he was lost.

Rebekah killed him too quickly, he deserved a more painful death. He would have drawn it out, tortured him slowly, watching the light go out in his eyes. He hated vampires like that. Abusing humans in that way, playing with one's food was so very undignified.

He was so lost in thought, he didn't notice you walking out of the bathroom, wearing a large t-shirt that went past your knees.

You felt a bit more like yourself, the shower having washed away some of the pain and horror. You still felt shaken, and a little dazed, but you were starting to come back to yourself.

"I'm sorry, I think your jacket is ruined," you said, sitting down next to him.

He smiled sadly, glancing at the bloodied garment in his hands. "It's just a suit jacket. I can get another one," he replied.

A silence fell over you, a little uncomfortable, full of the emotions the night had stirred up. You felt raw, vulnerable. Like he could see right through you. Like everything was different, had changed, somehow. You weren't sure why. Maybe it was because he saved you.

You watched as he seemed to have a mental war with himself, his mind far away. You wondered what was going on in that ancient mind of his, what demons he was wrestling with, or what judgments he was passing.

Finally he looked at you, his expression soft, understanding. "I'm sorry about what happened. To you," he said gently.

The sincerity of his words took you by surprise, and tears sprang into your eyes. You blinked them back, not wanting to fall apart.

"It's my own fault, I'm used to this sort of thing," you replied, waving it off. "I knew better."

"You are used to this," he said, his tone careful. "You shouldn't be used to this," he explained.

Your eyes snapped to him, searching for the meaning behind his words.

"No one should ever have to endure that. No one," he said firmly.

He didn't say you should leave the business, act like some sort of savior, telling you what you should and shouldn't do. He didn't take it upon himself to make a proclamation about your lifestyle. Instead he met the facts with pure empathy and honesty.

It felt... genuine. It was a first. And somehow, coming from him, it meant something more. His kindness was a floodgate that allowed emotions, memories and old pain to come rushing forward.

"I ran away from home when I was just fourteen, my mom's boyfriend was... He would beat me, touch me," you said, tears stinging your eyes.

You hadn't talked about this in a long time, you had spent years trying to forget it ever happened, burying it under layers of denial, and in that moment, it all came flooding back.

"I met a woman on the street that offered me shelter for a night, and it snowballed into her making me turn tricks to repay her," you explained, looking anywhere but at his face.

It felt good to talk about it, to get the weight off of your chest. You had kept it all bottled up for so long, and the night had triggered those old memories, so it seemed right to finally share your story. His presence was warm, safe, comforting, and something told you, you could be vulnerable with him, and not be judged for it.

"When the women offered to take me in, it seemed like a blessing. Like she was saving me, offering to feed and clothe me," you sighed, shaking your head, lost in the memories of your youth.

"But she wasn't saving me, she was buying me. Buying my misery, my pain. My innocence, my body, my trust. And then, one day, I was beaten bloody, the guy she sold me to for the night refused to give her a cent and she put her cigarette out on my neck." You looked down at your lap, remembering the smell of your flesh burning, the pain radiating through your skin.

"I wasn't useful to her any longer, so she dumped me like a bag of trash." You spat the words out, trying to stay objective. Distant. You felt his eyes on you.

"And what did you do?" He asked, his voice so low and gentle. So inviting.

"I slept in a dumpster, stole clothes off of someone's line, begged on the corner, just to get by, to eat. A lady took pity on me and gave me enough money for a bus ticket," you continued, wiping a single tear away.

"The first bus I saw took me to New Orleans, and I've been here ever since," you concluded, a cold sense of finality settling over you. You didn't realize how heavy the memory had weighed on you, it had sat in the back of your mind, never giving you a moment of peace, haunting you.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to unload on you like that," you said, wiping the tears from your cheeks.

"Never apologize for what's happened to you, or how you've reacted to it," he replied. "I know this won't be much help, but you're a survivor. And you did what you had to, and still managed to end up here."

The simplicity of the statement hit you deeply. He understood. He understood what you went through, where you were coming from. He reached out and wiped away another one of your tears. You leaned into his touch, craving the comfort of his warmth.

You didn't understand how, or why, but somehow he had made it into your fortress, your walled off heart. A place no man had reached, touched or explored. Yet there he was. His thumb still swiped gently across your cheek, his dark eyes staring into your own.

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his warmth. He was firm and solid, his shoulder the perfect spot to nestle in. This gesture, the simple embrace was overwhelming and your emotions spilling over. You cried, really cried, for the first time in many years. Not just tears streaming from your eyes, or silent drops, you sobbed. Your body racking with each painful outburst, a river of tears flowing over his crisp dress shirt. He held you the entire time, rubbing his hand in small circles across your back, whispering words of comfort, and strength.

Somehow, the mere knowledge of him understanding you, listening to you, opened the dam, releasing all of the pain you had repressed and carried around like an overloaded suitcase.

You cried until you exhausted yourself, and he picked you up, effortlessly and set you in his lap, your arms around his neck, your body folded into his. You rested your head on his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat, soothing, grounding. You could stay like that forever, cocooned in his strength, feeling truly safe for the first time.

You let your eyes droop, knowing that nothing could hurt you while he was there, and you succumbed to sleep, his hand combing gently through your hair, humming a soft melody murmured in a long forgotten tongue.

You woke up with a start, the morning sun streaming in through the window. You were alone, Elijah's suit jacket draped over you.

You frowned, wondering if perhaps it all had been a dream. If the monster, if the comfort of a stranger had never happened, just a horrible, awful, vivid nightmare. You glanced down and saw the dry bloodstains covering the jacket and realized it hadn't been.

Elijah wasn't a stranger. Not anymore. Something had changed between you, in a matter of hours. He saw all of your exposed, bloody, emotional, broken places, and you showed him a tiny piece of your soul, told him of your past.

You could smell his cologne, his smell lingering in the air, a faint scent left on the jacket. You took a deep breath and slipped the garment back on, smiling sadly.

You were a sucker for a nice suit.

The other smell in the air was coffee and you followed the scent into the kitchen. Rebekah was there, sitting at the table, two cups in front of her.

"Hope you like it strong," she said as you entered, gesturing to a cup of coffee in front of her.

You grabbed it, taking a sip, appreciating the kick of flavor.

"Sleep well?" she asked, glancing at you over the cup of her own.

"Honestly? It's the best night sleep I've had in ages," you admitted, taking a seat, pulling his jacket a little tighter, it felt comforting to have it on, like a security blanket.

She laughed, studying you carefully, her eyes settling on the jacket.

You wondered if she knew, if she was able to tell you had developed a very powerful crush on her brother.

Rebekah didn't know that Elijah was one of your clients, and it felt like a big secret to keep. She never judged you for your job, but she certainly judged those who sought your services.

You felt guilty for not telling her, but it was all so complicated. Your feelings for him were evolving, and you weren't quite sure what they were, or what they meant. She was your only friend and you wanted to confide in her, but you didn't know how.

"Beks, I... I have to tell you something," you said, feeling a bit nervous.

"What is it?" She asked, her eyes narrowing.

"Eli- Elijah has been my client since you introduced me to him," you blurted out.

She sat there, shocked, not saying anything for a moment.

"Elijah. Like my brother... Elijah? The one who was with us last night, and spent the night here? That Elijah?" She said, the look of shock on her face almost comical.

"Yes, that Elijah," you said, a blush creeping across your cheeks.

"My noble brother, who is too honorable and dignified to wear the same tie twice... Has been paying you for sex?" she said slowly, seeming to process the information, before a smirk formed on her lips. "What a delicious twist. I always thought Klaus was the manwhore brother," she added with a cackle.

You blinked, your jaw hanging open, before laughing. The tension easing, knowing she didn't hate you.

You took a deep drink of your coffee, relaxing, laughing. "I'll have you know Elijah is a great client. He's an excellent tipper, not an unkind word to say, and no requests are too kinky or strange," you said with a smile.

Rebekah raised her mug towards you in a cheers motion, clearly amused, but her expression fell a bit when she took you in a little more. "You like him," she stated, her blue eyes studying your face.

"He's my client," you answered defensively.

"Yes, I am aware of the rules you play by, but you like him." She repeated her observation, this time more sure of herself.

"Yeah," you sighed. "Maybe it's wrong to, you know, develop feelings for a client. But something's different, I don't know how to explain it," you finished.

"Well, this explains why he insisted on coming with me to save you last night. And why he's gone all avenging angel this morning. I've never seen him so protective over someone who isn't family," she said, grinning from ear to ear.

Avenging angel? It must have shown on your face because Rebekah launched into the tale of her brother's crusade this morning.

Apparently, he decided to eliminate everyone who associated with your attacker. Including the vampire who sired him and several others. He was methodical, brutal and utterly relentless in his vengeance. Tying them up and letting them burn in the rising sun.

"That's..." You couldn't find the words. It was insane, and it was for you. He was doing this because of you, and it made your heart swell with emotion.

"You're important to him," Rebekah said, her voice soft. "He doesn't do murder sprees for just anyone."

You sat there, processing the information, your mind a whirlwind. You weren't sure what to think, or how to feel, the fluttering in your stomach now a hurricane.

You had never been important to anyone, not like this. Men had always seen you as an object, a means to an end, but never someone who cared about your safety and well-being.

You loved him, even though it broke all your rules, all the careful walls you had built around yourself. He somehow managed to slip past your defenses, stealing his way into your heart and planting seeds for a future.

It had been a few weeks since the attack, and you were finally starting to feel normal again. You went back to work, seeing your regular clients. 

Rebekah had personally vetted and compelled every single one, and you felt safe and protected. None of them could possibly harm you, not with her looking over you.

The only thing that hadn't returned to normal was your regular once-a-week meetings with Elijah. He never called, or showed up, and it ate away at you.

Were you different to him now? After he learned about your past? Maybe he saw you as damaged goods, no longer a fantasy he could indulge in.

You weren't going to reach out, not after what had happened. He had been so kind and compassionate, but you weren't certain if it had really been genuine, or the situation making him act that way.

It hurt. As much as you tried to push it aside, and pretend it wasn't important to you, it was. Not just the money, but his presence, his kind eyes, the gentle way he cared for you. You missed him, and it broke your heart.

You needed something familiar, something safe. You had worn his jacket to bed every night since the attack, it was comforting, it made you feel safe. But not having him, being uncertain of what was going on, it was frustrating, and painful.

So, when you opened the door and saw him standing there, you were surprised. He had a bag of groceries in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other, an apologetic look on his face.

"Hi," he said, a shy smile on his face. "I'm sorry, for being away for so long."

You opened the door wider, gesturing for him to come inside. He walked past you, a nervous energy radiating off of him.

"It's okay, I figured you found another girl to play with," you replied off-handedly, a small part of you hoping to get a reaction.

He placed the bag on the table and spun around. "I assure you, no other woman holds a candle to your charms."

You laughed, liking his response, so typically him.

"I bought some groceries, and some wine," he said, gesturing to the bag and the bouquet. "Is there anything you would like me to make you for dinner?"

You smiled at him, his thoughtfulness making you blush. "Anything would be fine," you said, watching as he moved around your small kitchen. "You didn't have to do all this," you added, still a little taken aback by his gesture.

"I want to," he said, his brown eyes meeting yours. "I have some things I'd like to say, and I think a nice dinner might help."

You nodded, a nervous energy filling the room. He poured some wine, handing you a glass. You hesitated for a moment, fear creeping in, a million thoughts of how this could go wrong flooding your mind.

He noticed the hesitation and gently took your hand, giving it a kiss.

"If you don't want to drink, that is okay," he whispered, his voice full of understanding.

"No, it's okay," you said, smiling shyly.

You sat at the island, watching him as he worked. He was so at ease, so confident. He chopped and stirred, and the aroma of delicious food filled the air.  You never experienced this sort of thing growing up, the peaceful domesticity. It was strange, sitting there with Elijah, it felt so foreign, yet so normal. So perfect. He moved about the kitchen with a practiced ease, humming softly.

You sipped the wine, the sweet taste filling your mouth. You couldn't remember the last time you had drunk a whole glass, let alone several.

After a while, he put the food on the plates, and handed one to you. It smelled delicious, and looked even better. You took a bite, the flavors exploding in your mouth.

"Wow, this is incredible," you exclaimed, taking another bite.

He chuckled, sitting down next to you on the counter, it was so casual, so relaxed, almost intimate.

"How did you learn how to cook?" You asked, curious.

"I've lived for a thousand years, I think it would be pretty embarrassing if I didn't know how to make a proper meal," he replied, his voice laced with amusement.

"I always forget just how old you are," you said, smirking.

"Does it bother you?" He asked, his voice hesitant.

"No," you said, smiling reassuringly.

You finished eating, the two of you chatting about mundane things, no talk of work or pasts, just simple conversation. It was refreshing, being able to just be, no pressure or expectations.

After you were done, he took your plate and started washing the dishes. You couldn't help but laugh, and he turned around, a look of confusion on his face.

"What's so funny?" He asked, drying his hands.

"You just... cooking, cleaning," you said, trying to compose yourself. "I've never seen anything like it,"

"Is that a bad thing?" He asked, his voice tinged with concern.

"No," you said, grinning, "it's actually really nice,"

"Good," he said, chuckling, then he splashed some soap bubbles at you.

You gasped and glared at him, wiping the suds off your top.

"Oh, you did not just do that," you said, a wicked smile on your lips.

You grabbed the sponge and squirted him, laughing as the soap hit his face. He shook his head, a playful glint in his eyes.

"That's how you want to play it, hmm?" He asked, a mischievous smirk on his lips.

He grabbed the faucet and turned it on, spraying you with water. You squealed and tried to dodge, but he was too fast, your feet slipping on the now wet kitchen floor. You went sliding, and Elijah caught you in his arms, laughing.

Your heart was racing, and you were sure he could hear it, beating furiously in your chest. His warm arms were wrapped around you, and your face was inches from his. He was so close, so solid, so real. The world around you disappeared, all that mattered was him. You wanted to give in, to let yourself feel, but fear crept in.

The past flashed through your mind, the memories, the pain, the shame. You pulled away, your heart aching.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your eyes full of tears.

He took a step back, his face full of understanding.

"It's okay," he said softly, his hand reaching out and stroking your cheek.

"What did you want to talk to me about? Why are you really here?" You asked, afraid of the answer.

"I..." He paused, his eyes searching yours. "I am no longer in need of your services,"

Your heart sank, your body suddenly feeling cold. It was the answer you were expecting, but it still hurt. After what he saw in that penthouse, after all of his concern and comfort, he was done with you. Your fears were coming true.

You nodded, forcing a weak smile.

"I just..." he trailed off, his eyes still searching yours, his hand still on your cheek. "I love you, and I've been using you," he said, his eyes full of sadness. "That's why I stopped coming, it was... too much. It felt like I was taking advantage of you."

You stared at him, shock washing over you. It felt like the world had stopped moving. Love? A word you never thought would apply to you, yet here was a man, looking at you with such tenderness, such compassion, such pure undiluted love. It wasn't something you could process, love wasn't a feeling you felt worthy of, it wasn't something you believed you deserved. 

"Elijah..." You whispered, your voice barely audible. "You don't love me, you love the escort, the persona,"

"No, I love you, all of you," he said, his eyes locked on yours. "The good, the bad, the messy, all of it. That's why I can't use you anymore, because I want to love you, not just fuck you,"

You stood there, your emotions warring within you. Part of you was overjoyed, the other part was terrified.

You had never been loved before, and the thought of it was both exhilarating and terrifying. But you couldn't deny the pull between the two of you, the chemistry that was always there.

And it wasn't just physical, there was something deeper, something more. Something that was worth taking a chance on.

You reached out, your hand touching his face. You could feel his breath on your skin, his warmth radiating through you. Your heart was beating so fast, your hands trembling, but you pulled him closer, your lips ghosting across his.

He inhaled sharply, his eyes searching yours, his hand gently touching your face. You closed your eyes, his scent filling your nose. You didn't care that he was your client, that you swore this would never happen, or any of the reasons you always believed it would be better to stay distant.

He was the first one to move, kissing you softly, you could feel the love, the passion, the desire. His hands tangled in your hair, the kiss growing deeper, more intense.

You clung to him, your body pressed against his, the world around you fading away. It was perfect, the moment you had been waiting for. The first time you felt like someone actually wanted you, and it was better than anything you had ever imagined.

His hand slid down your body, his fingers brushing against your skin. You could feel the heat rising within you, the need for him growing stronger. He picked you up, his lips never leaving yours, and carried you into the bedroom.

He laid you on the bed, his body hovering over you. He kissed you again, his tongue exploring your mouth, his hands caressing your skin.

You moaned, your body arching into him. You wanted him, all of him. You tugged at his shirt, pulling it off. He helped you, then pulled your top over your head.

He trailed kisses down your neck, to your chest, his tongue flicking over your nipples. You let out a soft moan, your hands tangled in his hair.

He continued his exploration, his lips trailing lower, down your stomach, and stopped at the waistband of your skirt. He hooked his thumbs under it, and slowly pulled it down, his mouth kissing your hips.

He kneeled between your legs, kissing the soft skin of your thighs, waiting for your permission to break the rules.

This wasn't work, or something you were forced to do. This was something new, something special.

You spread your legs further, your arousal glistening in the dim light. He moved up your body, kissing your neck as he peeled off his remaining clothes. You reached up, tracing his jaw, and then cupping his face. He looked up at you, his eyes full of love, lust, and worry.

You nodded your head, giving him the permission he needed. His hands gripped your panties, slowly sliding them down. Your heart pounded in your chest, anticipation building.

He kissed your clit, his tongue exploring the sensitive spot. You let out a soft moan, your body shaking.

He took his time, wanting to taste you, wanting to give you pleasure. You deserved to feel good, to forget the pain, if even just for a moment.

He kept teasing you, his tongue circling your clit, then dancing around it. You were aching for him, the tension inside you building.

You gripped the sheets, your body writhing beneath him. You felt the pressure release, a wave of pleasure washing over you.

You floated on a cloud of bliss, your body tingling with aftershocks. He kissed his way back up to you, his lips finding yours.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

You smiled, cupping his face, pulling him close and kissing him. You had heard that from countless men over the years, but this was the first time you believed it, believed him.

You felt the length of him rubbing against your thigh. You reached down, stroking him, letting him know how much you wanted him.

He was so close, the scent of him filling your senses. He pressed himself against you, his erection teasing you, the ache between your thighs growing.

He wanted to make love to you, to show you what it meant to be with someone who cared about you, who loved you.

He slowly parted your legs, his gaze locked on yours, waiting for the final bit of permission.

You couldn't form the words, so instead you nodded, a shy smile on your lips. He understood, and slowly pushed into you.

You closed your eyes, the feeling of him filling you, stretching you, overwhelming you. It had been so long since anyone touched you like this, and he was doing it so perfectly.

But sudden fear coursed through you, everything replaying in your mind. All the men who had used you, forced you, made you perform. The vampire who dragged you back into your trauma, took away your control.

Elijah could see the distance in your eyes, the disconnect, and he pulled away, slightly, a concerned look on his face.

"It's okay," he said, his voice soft, "we can stop if you want to,"

You blinked, the memory fading, the realization setting in. Elijah wasn't like those men, he was different, caring, gentle. He made you feel safe in a way that no one else ever had.

You smiled at him, your heart swelling with love and affection. You reached up and cupped his face, gently pulling him towards you, your lips meeting his.

You poured your heart into the kiss, your emotions overwhelming you. He rolled the both of you on your sides, his arms wrapping around you. You clung to him, his name a whisper on your lips.

You felt a tingling building, but this wasn't pleasure, it was something else. A sense of euphoria washed over you, and for a brief moment, your whole being was at peace. You felt safe, loved, treasured. Your heart was whole, the pain and darkness gone, replaced by pure happiness and bliss.

You broke the kiss, your eyes wide as you looked at him, your heart pounding. You had never felt anything like it, never thought it was possible. You had experienced great pleasure, had orgasms that left you breathless, but this was something different, something deeper, something beyond description.

You blinked, reality settling in, your thoughts a tangled mess. You had broken your rules, given yourself to him completely, allowed him to touch the most broken and vulnerable part of you.

Your heart.

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[thewaspsnestinyourattic]

sometimes I like to think about the differences between the avatars that chose their fears willingly and the ones who were forced into it. an interesting question to ask yourself is 'is there anything that could make me choose to be an avatar?'

for most people the answer is probably yes. everyone's scared of something enough to do practically anything to escape it. and sometimes fears can seem real damn alluring.

I make a lot of jokes about how I'd become an avatar of the corruption, the buried, the spiral etc., and that is partly because goddamn that worm lady (/pos) but it's also because if faced with that option I can't one hundred percent guarantee I'd say no.

I think the only ones that couldn't make me hesitate before saying no are the vast and the lonely. this is probably because I have issues with self-isolation, and the idea of a frigid, empty void calls to my nihilistic side a little too much for comfort.

anything else, even the 'grosser' ones have their unique appeal. there's a sense of belonging there that nobody can ever take away from you. you don't have to be scared of anything anymore. (unless you meet gertrude, in that case rip.)

I haven't really talked to anyone else about it irl (there are no tma fans around me, it's very sad) but I do notice in the fandom that most people have a specific fear that they're fond of. some of them are less common than others (it's not often you see someone who goes all in for the flesh), but they're all there.

I mean, you can probably guess that mine's the corruption, for the same reason the lonely isn't my favorite. (as a concept and narratively it's cool as hell, but speaking in terms of real life, no thank you.) a few of my other favorites are the spiral and the stranger but that's mostly because the vibes are immaculate and I'm a sucker for some classic creepy shit.

I'd be really curious to know what people's reasons are for preferring their respective fears.

[inkmonster21]

Sing for Me

1. The Beginning

Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader / The Ghoul x Fem!Reader

She's a singer the nation adores. He's the actor everyone respects. What happens when these two get entangled in a heated affair? Passion, regret, rage, and even murder will commence. From before the bombs drop to the vast wasteland, these two souls live for one another.

Series Masterlist

Strangers, friends, lovers. Isn’t that the natural flow of things? The instinctive humane magnet that pulls two souls together; wasn’t that just the way of life? I often wonder if I had never laid eyes on him would the word still be intact? If I had never said yes to the role, if I had just moved on to another project, maybe my world would still be turning. I could still have a real body, real blood flowing through my veins. I almost remember what it felt like to bleed. Is it strange that I missed it? The pain? In this sorry excuse of a world, I guess anything can be normalized. Sadly I can’t recall what happiness used to feel like. I assume amazing and warm.

I stare into the cracked mirror, dusting the powder over my face, touching up the tattooed perfection. "Ready in 5," Conor speaks from the curtain. "Thank you," I take one last look into the remains of myself. I press my hand to my chest, feeling the light thump of my heart, one of the remaining parts of who this woman used to be. I stand, the black shawl dragging the ground behind me, the edges ripped and frayed. I pass Conor, grabbing the glass of water and drowning it down. "You've got a big crowd tonight." I smile at him, the facade growing. "Why wouldn't I? Even in this wasteland, I'm still the best singer the world has ever seen." A light centers onto the stage in the back of the venue. I step out beginning the set.

~

217 YEARS AGO

The crowd applause rings through the venue. I raise both my arms taking a bow, soaking in their appreciation. I blow a kiss before sauntering off the stage and behind the curtains where my assistant waits with refreshments. "Honey, I've got someone I want you to meet.” I roll my eyes knowing exactly what that means. “I’m not taking the time today, Louis.” He proceeds to grab my elbow and guide me to the dressing room. “Yes, you are. Especially when it’s a director.” My ears peek at the mention. “A director?”

The door swings open and I see a man sitting on my sofa. Expensive suit and tie, most definitely involved in the business. “There she is!” He extends his arm, grasping my hands, “Our Nation's sweetheart. Boy, my wife is going to be upset at this one.” I smile at him. “Well, the pleasure is all mine. I hope you enjoyed the show.” He beams at me, “the show? Oh, I could’ve watched for hours.”

Louis steps in, tossing my robe over my shoulders and taking my jewelry off my limbs. “Mr. Vander is here to discuss an opportunity for you.”

Mr. Vander nods with excitement brewing. “I certainly am! I’m casting a new film, Under the Covers, and I want you to be our leading lady.” I open my mouth, eyes widening “You know I’m a singer, not an actress, right?” Mr. Vander waves his hands in protest. “That's just the thing! I've had some written songs for the film. It's not a full-blown musical, but I'm widening my wings. I guarantee you will do just peachy!” I twiddle my fingers. “I don’t know, Mr. Vander. The big screen? Me? I just can’t see it.” Mr. Vander slides a script across the table. “Take a look, give me a call. No pressure, Sweetie.” He leaves without another word.

As soon as the door closes Louis is flipping through the pages. “You’re doing this.” I sigh at his words. “Can’t I take a break? It’s been show after show, and now I finally have some time off and you want me to go out to California and embarrass myself? I’ve got a lucky set of cords, that’s all.” I begin to wipe away my makeup.

Louis chuckles as he reads a line from the page. “You would kill this role. She’s a sassy badass. Look! Just read this line right here.” He pushes the paper into my face as I sit. I look over the words with a light giggle before turning to gaze at myself in the mirror. Louis begins, “I made a bad call.” I roll my eyes, “you think? Just sit there and let me do all the work. You men are sure good at causing trouble, but you ain’t too good at getting out of it. That’s where you need me.” I bite my lip as I finish reading. It would be fun to star in a film. Different and unique. I would still be able to sing. Not many singers get the chance to branch out like this. I wave my hand with confidence. “Oh, what the hell? Why not. I’m in.” Louis jumps up in celebration.

The following week I was on the set of a real movie. Trailers lined the lot, makeup bags and racks of clothes in every corner, and people buzzed around in their madness. Louis stands behind me, hands on my shoulders, “You got this.”

“Excuse me? Hi there, I'm Mr. Vander's executive assistant.” A woman asked directly. “If you would follow me. Mr. Vander wanted to make sure of your arrival.” Louis hauls my bag behind him as we follow the woman through the busy lot.

“Mr. Vander? Your star is here.” He flies out of his seat and grabs my hands, kissing my knuckles. “Ah! My leading lady! My Songbird! I am so happy you decided to say yes. We are going to make this such a special film. Now if you please follow me, I’d like to introduce you to your costar.” Walking a short way, we stop at a scenic backdrop where a man is walking down the street. He dips down an alleyway silently. He tips his hat slightly, before walking towards a building in question. Loud bells ring out, and the buzz of people continues, as their tasks have switched.

“Cooper,” Vander waves the man over once the scene has been cut. “This is our leading lady. She’ll be portraying Mary.” The man takes the hat off and shakes my hand lightly. “Cooper Howard. It’s a great privilege. My daughter adores your records.” His cheery smile and soft eyes struck me. His skin is smooth and warm to the touch. I had to kick myself just to speak. “Hello, Mr. Howard.” "Oh please, call me, Cooper."

And from then on, from that one moment, I was in trouble.

We would rehearse together, have our lunch together, and have dinner together when the day rolled around too late to go home. It became a natural routine. He made me feel special. By 4 weeks in I was in deep shit. I couldn't wait to see him. He started to invade my mind at all hours of the night. I started to question if he would like certain outfits as I put them on each day.

He told me about his life. He shared little details that seemed intimate. I sit in my makeup chair as he enters my trailer with a coffee. "Your ears must've been burning. I was just going to ask for one." I tease as I take the cup into my hands. He smiles that dumb smile, and I can feel myself sink into the chair. My makeup artist twists a tube of liner and groans upon seeing the state of said liner. "Ugh, I need to get another lip liner, don't move." I sit very still with wide eyes making her laugh. "I didn't mean it literally!" I smile as the door shuts. It doesn't take Cooper but a second to be standing over my chair, hands on my shoulders, exchanging glances in the mirror. It was now 9 weeks into filming, and I was fucked. I was completely infatuated with this man.

I feel the exposed skin on my shoulders burns as his fingertips brush over it. I feel my head lean into his touch ever so slightly. "You look beautiful." Why the fuck was he doing this to me? It's on purpose, it has to be. He certainly didn't act like this to any other female on set. Was it just a method to make sure we had that connection when we filmed?

Cooper's light squeeze on my shoulders brings me back. I smile at him in the mirror. He tilts his head, "You alright, darlin'?" I nod silently. Cooper leans down, his lips trailing up my ear as he whispers, “You nervous about the kiss?” I stare into his eyes, mine widening. “I thought we weren’t filming that scene until a few weeks.” His smirk only grows. I unknowingly provided my answer. I knew I was going to say it if he didn’t leave my trailer. I couldn't help myself. His fingers burned my skin. My lungs filled but wouldn't release. I was surely going to burst. "I-" "FOUND IT!" My makeup artist walks in victorious. "Cooper, they need you on set." I avert my eyes from him, trying to control my breathing. He nods and releases my shoulders before exiting. I felt my body exhale the large sigh I was holding in. I shake my head lightly trying to push my inner thoughts away.

~

The detective watches the passing car. He begins to trail the group on foot as they turn down a street. "Well, if it isn't my big tipper." He looks up to see Mary Jones, the singer from the club the men in question were just seen leaving. She makes her way across the street, meeting him under the lamplight. He was losing his chance, but he would get shot if he was promised she'd be the last thing his eyes set upon. "Just leaving, Mary?" He narrows his eyes at her. She knew something. She was the boss's favorite girl after all. The detective points down the road. "Those men, did they mention anything interesting?" She narrows her eyes, "Are you asking me to go against my boss? Where else would I sing?" Her sly smile cuts him deep. He wishes no harm to come to his beauty. He could let them get a head start. He lays his hand on her waist, pulling her in, their faces inches apart. "Now, you listen, doll. Those men, they could hurt you." Mary runs a gloved finger over his bottom lip. "And I can handle myself, sugar." She stares at his lips, her tongue darting to wet her own. “But if you’re so concerned, why don’t you walk me home? Make sure I get there safe and sound.” They move swiftly down the streets sharing cigarettes and longing gazes.

He leans on her door, drinking her in. “Don’t go to the club tomorrow.” He says in a whisper. She picked his chin up, “You understand I have to. But you can come visit and return this for me.” She leans up pressing her body against him, attaching their lips in harmony. His hands moved to grip her waist, pulling a small moan from her mouth.

“CUT!”

I blink quickly, suddenly becoming very aware of my closeness to Cooper. Hell, I just kissed the man. Well, Mary technically kissed the detective. I beg my bones to stay professional, but the heat growing in my core causes me to shutter.

"Beautiful! Just stunning. I could swear you LOVE this man! Singer my ass, you picked the wrong path Sweets." Mr. Vander cries as he takes off the headset. He spins me around dramatically. "My little songbird!"

"Whoa, now, bud. Don't go breaking her," Cooper's voice peels out in a firm tone. Mr. Vander sets me down, holding me at arm's length. "Now, this Friday we will be filming your solo. So, drink some tea or whatever the fuck you do." I laugh trying to sway back and forth to gather friction between my legs. I can feel his body heat next to me. He lays an arm on the small of my back, drawing circles. I jump lightly at his trailing fingers. I need to get away from him before my internal flames ignite this entire lot.

"Cooper, I need you to rehearse as much as you can. Love you, buddy, but you have two left feet and your chops are going to need some tuning. So, with that being said, please spend every waking moment together." Fucking great. Vander walks away but turns back quickly. "And Cooper, I want you both in the dance studio tomorrow morning. Jessica wants to rework the choreography."

I am so fucked. I can barely stand close to this man now without wanting to pounce on him. I take the larger shawl off my shoulders and toss it on the chair. I begin to walk away to my trailer, but Cooper catches my elbow. "Hey." I smile lightly, I take a second glance at his lips, missing the warmth. I register his lips moving, sound coming from his mouth, but I can't hear a word he says. I grab the collar of his shirt, bringing his lips down to meet mine in a rushed kiss.

The echo of my name and his fingers snap in front of my face. I shake my head, running away from the thoughts. "Yeah?" I stare anywhere but his eyes, I stare at his hair, his eyebrows, lips... fuck, I'm looking at his lips again. I turn away from him and make my way to the trailer door. "I'm sorry, Cooper. I am just so tired." I open the door, but his hand pushes it shut before I can escape. He leans down with furrowed brows. "You seem frazzled." He runs a single digit up my arm causing goosebumps to run along my skin. I bite the inside of my cheek to hold the shutter inside. I shake my head, "No, I just didn't sleep well, and today ran long. Just tired."

He hums softly. His finger traced the strap of my dress. “You look so beautiful.” I shutter at his touch, and he knows it.

He opens the trailer door for me, "Then you better get some rest. I'll have you worn out tomorrow." WHAT? He must be fucking with me.

I feel the smirk creep on my lips. Unable to hold it in, I allow myself to surrender just a little. I reach out, straightening his shirt collar, and adding a subtle tug. "I think you'll be surprised how tired I can make you." I watch as his eyes search mine. Seeming to dig into my soul. Finding me and my true desires. He leans down ever so slightly, like a magnet forcing us together. Inches between us, so so close, but I pat his chest with a smirk. I watch as Cooper opens his eyes with stardust lining his lashes. I whisper to him, "Goodnight, Cooper." And I close the trailer door. Just an inch before it shut, Cooper caught it with his hand.

He peals the door open, stepping inside, making me back away into the small counter. He stares into my soul, communicating silently. He dips down quickly capturing my lips. His hands guided me to the small couch. Clothes were torn, and only the essential items were removed for our intimate skin to brush against each other. Cooper rushed to tear my panties away, and I was right behind him, pulling his rock-solid cock from his pants.

He fucks my body deep into the couch, the repeated grinding against my clit causing sparks to ignite. I clasp at the wide planes of his back, my fingernails skidding down the fabric of his dress shirt, threatening to rip the material. "Cooper, fuck!" I moan out as I watch where our bodies meet. Cooper took my wrist, pinning my arms above my head, sinking into me deeper. He watches me with knitted brows, completely lost in the actions. He dives down to my neck, teeth grazing a spot on my neck that stimulates the blissful warmth.

It's rolling through me, I can feel the tightness building in my core, the cord tightening. I toss my head back, closing my eyes. He pushes deeper. The trailer gives a slight rock, as our moans fill the vicinity. If anyone was near there would be no hiding our actions.

"Oh my God, I'm coming." I pant, the coil popping and my release begins flowing. I arch up into his chest. Cooper pulls out, finishing on the crumpled costume. I breathe deeply for what feels like hours. I open my eyes to see Cooper smirking above me, soft kisses peppering my cheeks as his hands glide down my arms, releasing where he's had them pinned above my head. Unable to move I just stare at him as I catch my breath.

“Oh my god.” He breathes out, readjusting himself before sitting by my feet. A smirk builds its way to his mouth. He runs a thumb over my legs.

I stay silent. I feel like I should pinch myself. I could swear I was dreaming if it wasn't for his fingertips trailing up my leg.

Oh, fuck, this was a mistake. This is so wrong. Maybe this was just a moment of weakness. He has a wonderful family...

He calls my name softly, continuing his soft touches. "You're thinking too loud, darlin'." I sit up, jitters still running through my body. "How could I not? That was-" "Amazing." He leans in catching my lips again, softly this time around. He pulls away, just enough to whisper. "Let me walk you to your car." I nod wordlessly, quickly changing into my regular clothing. Just as we are about to walk out the door, I tug his arm. "Wait." I press my lips down on his, meeting perfectly.

He walks me to the car, only passing a few stragglers, but paid them no mind, his hand still glued to my waist. He opens the door to my car, allowing me to get seated. He leans down with a smile, "I'll see you in the morning. Goodnight, beautiful."

As I drive away down the road, my smile slowly fades. "Oh, my god." I just slept with someone's husband, and I loved it! I stare at myself in the rearview mirror. I let myself fall limply against the headrest. I curse his name lowly as I fall into the shame of the actions I am committing behind closed doors.

~

Her car door shuts, and I am left staring at her vehicle slowly disappearing. my eyes in a daze, cheeks perking the color of a rose. Hell, I'm acting like a damn teenager. She makes me feel things again. Certain feelings of the warmth a good woman like her can spread. I am fucked. She was so warm, so tight. She fit so perfectly around my cock. I wanted to go slow, I was trying to beg myself to pace myself, but she was too irresistible.

I chuckle, running a finger over my lips. I had kissed costars before. It was never a problem. It certainly never leads to scandalous acts, but when it comes to her it seems everything is out of the ordinary for me. I shake my head lightly as I am whisked to my car. Floating on the memory of her eyes, laugh, kissable plump lips, and skin that smelt of strawberry jam. It was those thoughts that got me home. It was those thoughts that invaded my mind as poured myself a drink upon entry. They were also the thoughts that broke the thread as I pumped my shaft in my hand, once again overcome with the need for her. Concealed in the master bathroom, in the shower, allowing myself to fantasize about another woman. "Fuck," Her name left my mouth in a breathless moan.

I looked into the mirror at the man before me. He was a shameful mess. The present visions of her supplying my imagination didn't trouble me. The constant pressing of my cock threatening to twitch at the sound of her voice on the radio didn't trouble me. What troubled me was the fact that I enjoyed every second of it. I yearned for the morning sun each night, the fact of knowing I would be able to see her the next day was enough to close my eyes each night. I would get to hold her, brush her hair behind her ears, and smell the sweetness of her skin. A shameful mess I was indeed. The want grew each hour I spent thinking of her.

~

The bright sun in the sky barely kissed the hills as I opened the door to the studio. I was more in my element. Acting was fun, but I had been missing the feeling of confidently knowing what to do. In here, I could sing and sway to my plans and no one would correct me. I stretch on the ground freely, humming as I do. The door opens and I look back, silently hoping Cooper walks through. But it's just, Louis.

"Well, you seem to be in a good mood this morning," Louis calls out from the door. I smile at him, continuing to stretch. "I just caught up on some much-needed rest." Yes... Rest...

Louis eyes me up and down, not convinced. "I'm not buying that shit. What happened? You look... different. Did you curl your hair for rehearsal?" I slap his hand away from my hair. "So what if I did? I have appearances to keep up."

Louis rolls his eyes, "Yeah fucking right." He lies down on the floor with me as I stretch. "Who was it?" I look at him in confusion, "What?" Louis cackles, "Who did you fuck? Come on I want details." "No one. My god, Louis. Make yourself useful and go put my bag up." Louis tosses the bag over his shoulder with a smirk. "I'm just saying, you've never been this perky in the morning unless you've been riding a dick all night." I cover my eyes in embarrassment. Several of the crew were on set now and heard what Louis blared out. "Shut the fuck up." I snide at him.

I look around in hopes that Cooper wasn't around to see or hear the exchange, but I am never so lucky. He stands at the back of the room, tying his shoes, a small smirk littering his lips. If he did hear, then he is acting like he didn't.

He waltzes over looking awkward. Fuck, I knew this was going to be weird. I narrow my eyes at him as he sways from one foot to the other. "You okay?" I ask with a small smile. He was finally on my rank. These were my stomping grounds and he was completely lost. A light confidence perks in my veins. "Not much of a dancer, or a singer for that matter." He watches as I spin, the black leotard hugging my body. I catch his eyes burning into my frame. "I'm sure you're better than you think." "Oh, I don't know. Never been good at dancing with pretty women."

Jessica stands in front of us and the few extras needed. "I want to run the solo with the choreography from the first take. I know we talked about it, and I know you said you weren't all for the sexy moves, but-"

"No, let's do it." I want to run it." I interrupt her quickly, her eyes lighting up. She claps her hands with a smile. "Everyone else, take your position. We're going to run it."

Jessica gives me the floor as she begins the music. I feel the chords flowing, the music taking over. I begin the rehearsed song and choreography. Swaying lightly to begin, but slowly making out into the crowd. I sing and turn around the tables, captivating the eyes of everyone in the room. One in particular looked as if he was fighting his own will to stay seated. I sing as I sit at the table he's at. His eyes dive into mine and suddenly it is just the two of us, and I am singing directly to him.

I rest my hand on his chest. I can feel the rapid thump of his heart. Cooper stands placing his hands on either side of my face as I sing. He allows his hand to feel down the side of my body. Memorizing the curves of my waist. I turn his head to look back into my eyes, finishing the melody. He brings my face in, passionately pressing his lips down onto mine. Applause erupts from the studio, but he doesn't pull away. Cooper grips my waist tightly, dragging me to the edge of the table, pushing his hardened cock into my thigh. I gasp feeling his length against my leg.

Unknowing to others, but I know. By the look on his face, he knows that I know. A smirk grew on his lips. “I’d say that scene will be perfect, darlin’.” Cooper pulls away from my body, the warmth disappearing. He sits in the seat watching my every move such as a predator stalking their prey.

[ozzgin]

[Baki Masterlist]

Yandere! Kaiou Retsu x Artist! Reader

You open the door to the Shinshinkai Dojo and greet some of the men in the hall with a nod.

"You're here earlier than usual." One of them comments as you pass by.

"Yeah, the last lecture was cancelled and I had no other plans", you respond with a smile.

"You know it's getting serious when your free time is turned into training time. That's how it was for me!" the man lets out a hearty laugh.

"No way, I'm not made for this." You wave your hand in dismissal. "I'm just going with the flow and seeing where that takes me."

You go on your way, ruminating over the brief exchange. It's been a few months since you began taking karate lessons at the Dojo. You still remember Katsumi's perplexed expression as you stood before him, handing over the sign up papers.

"A-are you sure? The sparring can get quite rough and you're... well... uh..."

"You advertise it as perfect for self defense. Who needs it more, the buff pal over there or this short college student that can't even sketch in the park without being harassed by perverts?"

You slap the papers on the table with a loud thud. The man blushes slightly, realizing the irony.

"I apologize. You're entirely right." He scans over the form. "Evening classes. That's when I teach, actually! Looking forward to seeing you, then."

After the first few weeks of mostly standard workout in order to build stamina, you started learning the basics. Katsumi was greatly surprised and equally impressed by your unexpected skill. Turns out you weren't half bad at this! And so he suggested you show up more often, because he wanted to see how your newly discovered talent would develop in time.

As thankful as you are for his support, you find the whole ordeal rather funny. You don't have any intention of becoming some professional fighter. You're an artist and plan to remain one for the indefinite future. The little karate hobby serves as your dose of healthy activity and as the occasional inspiration, since you particularly enjoy recreating the human body and its intricacies on paper or in clay.

"Oh, (Y/N)!" Katsumi spots you and gestures for you to come over. Your nostalgic daydreaming has been interrupted. "Remember when I said that it helps to expand your knowledge? I have just the person for that." He places a hand on your back and guides you further into one of the main rooms.

"Here she is, Retsu-san. You might not believe it at first, neither did I, but I guarantee you she has a lot of potential."

You bow slightly to the stranger in front of you and he silently returns the gesture. He seems mildly awkward about the encounter.

"I'm sorry, I don't think I follow. What is this about?" you ask, somewhat confused. The deep stare of the long haired man intimidates you, so you avoid it by throwing quick glances at Katsumi instead.

"Would you be interested in learning Chinese Kenpo? This is Kaiou Retsu. He'll be joining us at the Dojo for a while. I thought you could use some variety."

"Shouldn't you be asking him if he's willing to teach rookies like me?" you wonder if this poor man had his services offered against his will.

"It is my great pleasure to spread the knowledge of this ancient art. I only ask that you treat it with respect and don't take it lightly." Retsu straightens his back and looks ahead, in no particular direction.

Ah, how embarrassing. He can't even look at her properly. He wishes he could drag Katsumi out in the hallway and whack some common sense into him. The least he could've done was to let him know who to expect.

Obviously he's seen women before. He's been out of the temple for a long time now. So why is he acting so strange all of a sudden? Katsumi was very secretive about his new favorite student and refused to give him any details besides "you won't regret it". He anticipated anything but this. He's especially baffled at his own reaction meeting (Y/N).

All he can do now is to pray that he isn't so obvious in just how flustered this woman has gotten him. He wonders if Katsumi went through the same nervousness when he first met you. He secretly peeks at the young man and notices how relaxed he seems to be next to you. Yeah, perhaps he just needs a little time. Then he can treat you with the same confidence, too.

***

"What matters the most here is actually the placement of the foot. If it's slightly tilted the wrong way, you lose all support and everything else falls apart. A good kick needs an equally good grounding."

Retsu is in his comfort zone. For a mere moment, he can forget his audience and focus on his technique. This is what he does best. Still concentrated, he unbuttons his shirt and throws it aside, as this is how he usually fights.

"Find the weak point depending on your opponent's stance, and quickly make your move before they've got it figured out."

He demonstrates the attack, followed by a few skillful jumps as he returns to his initial spot. He checks to see if you've been following his instructions, a prideful smile plastered on his face. Your eyes are wide, mouth slightly open in shameless marvel. His smile immediately vanishes and is replaced by an embarrassed frown. Why are you looking at him like that? It's one of the most basic moves he can think of.

You suddenly clap your hands together and lower your head in a begging posture. The way his body bends and folds in such a fluid, continuous way, the way his muscles contract rhythmically in a calculated vigor... This man is not only a master of martial arts, but your newly found muse.

"Please excuse my rudeness, but I really can't think of a better way to put it. Might I be allowed to sketch you during your training? I really wish I could capture your artistry."

You shyly glance up, worried you may have angered the Chinese man. He's covering his face with one hand and you tense up, unsure of how to proceed. Should you apologize? Then you manage to discern the deep blush that's taken over his face.

He must calm down at once. He's inhaling deeply, attempting to regulate his breathing. He can feel the vibration of his heart slamming into his chest at great speed. Truly, how happy your words made him. And this brings him to the abrupt realization that he will never be like Katsumi around you.

It's been a little under a month since he's met you, and the slightest interaction coming from you makes his whole composure collapse into shambles. All the feelings and thoughts are now avalanching over, burying him and making him unable to let a single word out. It could very well be that he's in love with you, but it's a frightful, rabid adoration that trickles out of his grasp, as if it could escape from his control at any moment. It's a terrifying discovery for someone that so values their discipline.

"If it's too troublesome, you can forget about it. I got too excited. To be honest, I've been using you as a reference for some time now, but it felt wrong not to tell you about it."

You crouch down to your backpack and hesitantly pull out a notebook with pages sticking out. You peel open the covers and spread some of the papers onto the ground, for a better view.

Retsu squats down with you and gazes over the detailed pencil works, partly distracted. He'd appreciate your anatomical accuracy if it wasn't for his presently feverish state. He places your hands between his and analyzes them. What a difference. Dainty, fragile and yet powerful enough to win Katsumi's respect. Nonetheless of insignificant size compared to his large, calloused and weathered palms. To think that you've been watching him the same way he's been watching you all this time. Perhaps for somewhat different reasons. How would you react if you knew? What would you think of someone like him?

"Umm..." you swallow dryly as you attempt to break the silence. You can almost hear a faint ringing in your ears.

What if you were to reject his confession? It wouldn't be the first time he's faced defeat. Retsu is however unsure if he'd be willing to accept it this time. He looks at you with newly found resolve. No matter what, he'll do what it takes to become a man worthy of your love. If only he could remain your inspiration forever.

[solar-serpent]

10 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 𝓪𝓫𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓼𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝓹𝓽. 3

Hello, lovers! Welcome to the third edition of "10 messages about your soulmate" PAC. If you are new on this side of the internet, you can check the former editions here: (x) (x)

Is the concept of soulmates too ambiguous to you? It's fine, hon. Just think of your future spouse or next romantic partner before choosing your pile.

Each pile includes a list of messages channeled through Tarot and my intuition about your destinated person, such as their looks, job, hobbies, personality traits, zodiac sign, goals, etc.

English is not my mother language, so please bear with me.

Pile 1 → Pile 2

Pile 3 → Pile 4

✨Pile 1✨

This person has bushy eyebrows. I swear it's what stands out the most to me along with their big eyes. Honestly, they're too cute looking regardless of their gender. They usually remind others of small animals like a hamster, puppy, koala, etc. Their hair could be blond or light brown, plus it's straight and abundant yet messy. Is bed hair still a thing? Nevertheless, this person rocks that style. They have this homey/cozy energy. They like wearing flannel t-shirts and caps/beanies. They're as cool and calm as a baby born in Autumn. They're also classy and have prominent feminine energy.

They have a mean or judgemental look that people fear to see a second time. Not only are their expressions vivid, but also they are a perfectionist and loner. They're stubborn and don't trust others easily, but they don't talk about that at all. They don't address what they like or not for people to know. They're not secretive per se, they're diplomat and won't say/do anything on purpose to stir trouble. You could tell they`re cunning at first glance. They're a loyal friend/lover and I believe they would be the type to tell you a white lie or keep the truth from you so you don't get hurt. They're thoughtful and clever and someone whose love only belongs to one. They’re not into polyamorous relationships.

Lucky you pile 1, this person won't keep you in the dark about their intentions towards you. They don't like to beat around the bush in general, so you won't have any reason to fear their rejection. On a date, they would sit by your side and grab your hand while gazing at your eyes. You might get all hot and flustered and like you're playing on a scene from a romcom, but your lover is just like that... Looks kind of standoffish on the outside, but they're passionate on the inside. More importantly,  they are a gentleman (or an honorable lady) and patient, so they won't push any sexual interaction on you if you haven't given them a sign you want more from them than a chaste kiss.

"Poison in the heart," I heard. Well, this person has been played in the past. Really bad breakups or betrayals they went through, so they became suspicious and now rather takes their time building a connection before they can think of formalizing a relationship with anyone. Yup, this is your slow and no care in the world person. I know it might sound contradictory to the previous message. If it's obvious that they like you and you them, why not step up the game? Well, they would like to know you better to jump into a relationship with a stranger. They no longer compromise their heart and time without a guarantee and if you try to pressure them by any chance, they could see it like a red flag and would take their distance as measurement.

This is someone who has reached success in life because of their congruence. They're decisive and commit only to what they know they can handle and see through the end. They're both feared and respected because of that. Nobody wants to mess with your person. They're too serious in their work field and someone who rarely makes mistakes. I think they're sort of misunderstood because of this controlling trait of them. They're kind hearted and like to share good stuff with their fellas, but most people would assume they're full of themselves and would ignore them. It saddens them to know how badly they are perceived at times. They would try extra hard to make people like them.

Aww, this person is a softie at heart. They naturally have a tempered character and they were the shy kid at school, but to avoid being a target for bullies or trampled by ill intentioned people, they had to learn to bark back and call people out on their shit. They're a believer of justice, so you would not receive criticism or a scolding from them if you haven't stepped on their boundaries or misbehaved. They're really sweet and would try to please you as much as possible. They're a sensitive person too; you might find that they're too fixed on their ideas and be on the defensive about things that would puzzle you. They might not take jokes lightly, so be careful of hurting their pride.

They love food and sweets. They could eat countless chocolate bars within one week, but they like homemade food and lunch that are made by the two of you the most. They probably think cooking is fun and making stuff together is way more meaningful to one person waiting at their seat for the other to finish cooking. This person is husband/wife material, to be honest. They would want to share their belongings and space with you. You would meet in a time where they've matured and are getting close to settling down for good. This person can allow themselves to do it because they're doing well financially. They're not rich, but they live a good life and still will after marriage.

They could still be shy but it doesn't look like it because they seem too serious or a person of few words. They have a versatile character that would allow them to be whoever they want. They’re a chameleon as they could play the role of a soldier or a teacher/preacher anytime; the former an action orientated archetype and the later a measured and reflexive one. I believe this person could be a fixed sign (Leo, Aquarius, Scorpio, Taurus). They care a lot about their reputation so they tend to act decently and politely in the eyes of the public. He fears to be “found out”. I don’t speak about his flaws, but his dirty laundry and the past they are ashamed of.

This person possesses multiple interests and hobbies, yet not many people know about that or even associate them with the word “fun”? He’s mostly known for being politically correct, the bigger person, the adult. His apparently flawless character could raise suspicion on people, but little do they know the person behind the mask—the child who fears to be deemed “immature”, laughed at for their interests or criticized by who they are. Cruelty didn’t turn them into a bad person, but someone who believes in justice and equity. I’m only afraid that those trust issues aren’t easy to get rid of and they rather be a loner than open up to the wrong people again.

They’re very lucky. I swear the hard challenges they had to overcome in their youth were rewarded with a healthy environment in the present. As within, so without, then no real surprise here. They are one of the best people you would ever meet, so even the people who initially did not like them would turn around and grow to appreciate them. They have good friends and colleagues that wouldn't allow them to shut themselves in at home. They try to act like a hermit at times, but it never goes their way. They’re also admired for their good performance at work. They remind me of a K-Drama’s main character (they probably have heard the same remark about his personality before and they wholeheartedly hate the comparison), since some might develop a crush on them because they’re hard working and have a nice personality.

I’m glad you’ve made it so far! I hope this reading was to your liking and I would love to read your thoughts if you want to share them on the replies.

I can give you a “10 messages of your soul mate” reading for a reasonable price, so feel free to contact me for more info.

I do accept tips or donations through this link.

✨Pile 2✨

I won’t use neutral pronouns for this person because I’m positive it’s a woman. If you’re not into women, it might not be your pile, darling. Right back to the point: your soulmate has a strong and intimidating energy. Upon first glance, she looks like a stern and no nonsense woman; I won’t lie, she is, but she’s also such a great inspiration for her close ones. She has a fierce spirit and is highly competent and competitive within her field. She’s bold, quick witted, and she fears no rival. She’s so confident yet I wouldn’t call her cocky. She doesn’t like to overthink or do unnecessary things, she just follows her heart and it has secured every victory of hers.  

I think she could be an earth sign (Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn) as she cherishes stability, compromise, and wholeness. She also knows how to manifest money and run a successful business. She likes math, physics, and scientist careers. Concrete knowledge in general. Although I suspect she could actually be a teacher or lawyer. Either way, she wouldn’t conform with a small position that only guarantees a mediocre salary. She intends to climb her way to the top. Where others see a treacherous path, she sees a field where to plant her seeds. She’s visionary and has a positive outlook on life. 

She’s a small and slender woman. She’s actually very cute, but it’s easily overlooked the moment she frowns or smirks. She pulls some hilarious expressions as if she was a cartoon character. Her friends love to pay attention to her face when she’s speaking passionately about something; she might as well be dramatic and chaotic enough to quote cliche dialogues from the TV like, “I’ll have my revenge!” (she said, shaking her fist at the sky). Some people might misunderstand her and believe that she’s a cranky woman for how serious she usually seems, but her peers know better… She's a child at heart, but she got fed up with people belittling her for her appearance (and gender), so she pretends to be a baddie but soon would loosen up in front of the people that show genuine respect to her.      

She has short legs, thus mini skirts look like normal skirts on her, but she doesn’t give a damn about it. Her style is similar to cottage core, but I don't think that is her intention. She probably grew up in the countryside or a place where the summer reigned all year around as her clothes tend to be simple, loose, and almost gender neutral, except for the skirts and dresses. I also don’t see clothes with great brand names nor t-shirts with band logos imprinted on them. She likes to wear colors as white, blue, brown, yellow and green. You won’t catch her wearing bright colors but darker ones either. If she had an emo phase, it was left behind years ago. Given her line of work, she also needs to wear more serious and/or semi-formal clothes.

She got frizzed dark haired. I think she’s worn her hair shoulder-length almost all of her life, but you might meet her when it’s some inches longer falling on her upper back. Even if she’s not the friendliest (believe me, it’s only because she’s shy and a bit clumsy when it comes to social interactions), she likes people a lot. She enjoys being surrounded by groups and watching people. She likes the noise, the merry environment, the laughter of the crowd, and people acting carefree. She likes going to the theater and circus for these reasons. I believe that’s how she would like to act herself, but a strong sense of responsibility or guilt (for enjoying herself too much? Sounds like religious trauma to me) will prevent it.

She’s goal-oriented and has achieved great things from an early age. She is not dependent on her parents and she rarely seeks the advice of others. This woman has the strength of an Amazonan and the blessing of the skies, but even people like her carry great pain in their heart. She could've had some addictions in the past or she would still smoke when you meet her. She used drugs as a way to escape from haunting memories and the feeling she does not fit it anywhere. She thinks it’s too difficult to be accepted with people opposing her or judging her for her choices. She has the limiting belief that everything that nothing comes free and there’s always a high price to pay for obtaining what you want.

She might look like someone who only cares about her career, money and nothing else. She’s envied/hated for being an overachiever, her independence and the fact she doesn't have to worry about building a family nor saving money for the sake of others. Don’t let yourself be fooled by that illusion; your soulmate longs to have a cozy place to go everyday after work, full of laughter and the smell of a warm meal waiting for her—their loved ones present to greet her with a smile. She might not be sure whether she wants a family of her own blood or a group of friends (siblings of the soul) to receive her at places she could call “my other home”. She’s only sure that she wants love and valuable relationships.

She could have an air moon (Gemini, Aquarius, Libra). For those who don’t know what it entails, well, she basically is quick to detach from her emotions and keep moving. She can daydream all she wants about her desired life, but she would keep it down and make no attempt to pursue it if it means failure… failure within the emotional world is equal to crippling pain. It might result in distancing herself from the people she loves. She knows how to pretend that nothing is bothering her and respond that she is fine if you ever ask her about how she feels. The intention is not to lie to people, but to herself. She really needs to believe her white little whites, otherwise she is afraid that she could fall into despair. She might come off as aloof or a fool who doesn’t see the gravity of her own situation.

She might come from a small family and she might not get along with her parents. Her group of friends is also small and they’re people around her age. She won't talk much about them to you. Not because she wouldn’t trust you, but she is a firm believer that worlds should keep separated. She doesn't want to hang out with her friends and you; everyone should have their turn. Her love language entails providing quality time and entertainment to her loved ones. She is not well-off, but she is doing well in life and loves to treat their loved ones from time to time. You and her could have the tradition to take turns to treat each other so no one could feel guilty or taken advantage of.

She’s very popular among her colleagues for thinking outside the box and coming up with innovative solutions to problems others deemed as impossible to solve. Both at university and her current workplace she is admired and people like her unbothered personality. This person doesn't like drama and often she is too caught up in her head to care about the hottest news. She might not be interested in being a life example or the guide of others, but people still come to her for advice. She’s been idealized a lot during his life by people who do not know how to get their shit together. People really want to know what’s her secret to  do well in life, but they are unaware that she´s far from perfect and she does not appreciate the idea of fitting the status quo so well.

I’m glad you’ve made it so far! I hope this reading was to your liking and I would love to read your thoughts if you want to share them on the replies. I can give you a “10 messages of your soul mate” reading for a reasonable price, so feel free to contact me for more info. I do accept tips or donations through this link.

✨Pile 3✨

This person is really young or they’re younger than you, but I wouldn't call them immature at all. They’re such a worrywart! They overthink a lot and they don't like being alone for long or free of distractions as their mind will go wandering treacherous paths. They have golden retriever vibes but they also display the image of a puppy with no owner… and believe me when I say that they want to belong somewhere and to someone. They’re a hopeless romantic and so passionate about love and partnerships. They’re a sensitive soul, the type you would want to protect at all cost from this world’s cruelty. I’m not saying that they are a pushover, but they surely have this “tragic” beauty that would pull you in and turn accommodating for your soulmate’s sake. Just don't romantice their image so much, otherwise you would receive a shock the moment you face your person’s shadow. This person is not as innocent as they seem.

Your soulmate is fair-haired. They could have strawberry blond, chestnut or light brown hair color. Their eyes`s color could be green or gray-ish. Their appearance also reminds me of a young Jim Carry since they’re both long with slim limbs, have a similar hairstyle with a line parting their hair and they usually wear bright colors and bold patterns. I saw the glimpse of a person wearing a striped sweater with autumn colors such as yellow, orange, and black. They also had a necklace of shells. This person is fashionable and their clothes are usually trendy.

This person has a lot going on in their life. They are HSP which stands for a Highly Sensitive Person. Go google it, it’s a real condition usually present in neurodivergents. They are spiritual and sort of a modern philosopher. They`re open minded and have a profound outlook on how things work in this world. They get sad whenever they think of how people have forgotten about the important things like working as a community, unconditional love, happiness beyond slavery and protecting what’s unarguably sacred like nature, animals, and family. They want all of that for themselves, but they have long made peace with the idea they might not achieve all their goals in this lifetime. 

They also seem to be closely connected to a past life where their role was of a healer, teacher or mediator and they are aware of this information. They feel attracted to old civilizations, mainly the Egyptian. The sight of the ankh cross and furniture made of gold no fail to leave them speechless. They couldn't tell you why. They probably have one or two stelliums in their natal chart and Pisces, Leo, Libra and Aquarius are their prominent signs. I’m getting that they are a morning person and they like to go hiking or to spend time in nature where they will meditate, do yoga and/or relax with a book.         

They have been jailed or they are afraid of ending up in jail one day because of their rebellious streak. Perhaps I am being too literal and I should describe their crippling terror of living a life of restriction instead. I believe your soul has more than one reason to feel threatened or insecure living in our modern society. They could belong to a minority such as the LGBTQ collective or ethnicity, are an anti-system activist, vegan, plus their family do not approve of their life choices. They are an unruly brat in the eyes of their relatives, yet they are admired and applauded by others. They have a decent amount of followers on social media and people like to hear your soulmate speak about their thoughts on multiple topics. They were born to communicate and entertain.

Please don’t freak out but I heard the word “brother”, so you could be introduced to them by a sibling or cousin. I also suspect you could feel like your soulmate feels like family to you. Not a brother/sister, but perhaps like a classmate or someone whose presence was always there until they really entered your reality and you can imagine them no longer being there. The connection you’ll share with this person would be strong and life changing. I don`t think it’s your future spouse, though. I’m getting “love of youth” vibes from this pile, but they will bring you resources for personal growth and so much inspiration. If you are a writer or artist, you will write poetry about this lover and dedicate your favorite songs to them. For some, it’s the first person you will fall in love with. They will ignite a fire in your heart no other succeeded to do.

This person is an old soul and to prove it they could own many vintage objects. They probably have a collection of music players from different decades, but I see a cassette player they are really fond of. It makes them feel cool and transports them to the past whenever they get to use it. They are a bit dramatic and melancholic. They have a creative soul and feel a strong attachment to music, so they play some instruments not to be the best musician but as a way of escapism. They have a neat appearance and an almost angelic aura that blends with a hard to ignore sex appeal, which ends up intimidating or making people feel guilty about having naughty thoughts about them.

It’s interesting how their peers have divided opinions on their personality. Some perceive them as too serious, adult-like, even their savior or teacher, while others see them as a wounded bird, delicate, and someone in need of saving. They are only facets of their rich and complex personality. Your soulmate is quite intuitive and emotional connection is something that comes easy to them, which makes them quite influential. They have many cult leader’s personality traits if you ask me, but they appreciate their privacy too much to even think of raising a cult on their own. They are a tactile person, yet they are also gentle and thoughtful in their approach to others, so their touch is taken as comforting and non threatening.

They like to walk barefoot and wear loose clothes or be in their undies when they are at home. After you two get closer and you are alone, you might get surprised at them taking their shirt off and going outside to sunbathe out of nowhere. It’s not an invitation to follow them for some exhibitsionist fun, but it’s them chilling and showing you that they are comfortable around you. I know it sounds a bit weird, but your soulmate is both a bit uninhibited and unaware of some social etiquettes. They probably think “nudity” is nothing to be ashamed of, and while they do have a point, they’re also forgetting people could have a hard time separating the idea of nudity from sexual intercourses. Fortunately they are not this… “socially clumsy” all time and they have never had a problem by exhibiting their body at the wrong time and place.  

They don't smile often, but they look relaxed all time rather than grumpy. They have a peaceful expression on their face, and there could be an inner joke between friends about them having a Monalisa smile or something along those lines. Your soulmate could be a foreigner or their parents are immigrants, but I sense this person has the doors open overseas, hinting that they have relatives or friends in other countries willing to receive them anytime. This person is a free spirit but they love people so much to go on a long journey and neglect their relationships as a consequence. They are too shy to admit that they love their peers deeply and they almost see it as a weakness how difficult to depart from their loved ones is for them.   

I’m glad you’ve made it so far! I hope this reading was to your liking and I would love to read your thoughts if you want to share them on the replies. I can give you a “10 messages of your soul mate” reading for a reasonable price, so feel free to contact me for more info. I do accept tips or donations through this link.

✨Pile 4✨

Why do they remind me a bit of Aquaman? I’ve been staring at the cards for three minutes straight and I can't shake the mental image off. Not saying they are the carbon copy of Jason Momoa, but  they look like a fierce warrior from the depths of the ocean. Even if they don`t go to gym, they are well built and not only do they look strong physically, but also mentally! They have dark brown wavy hair whose tips reach their shoulders. Their eyebrows are long and thin, their eyes big and alert, possess a medium size nose and small lips. They could wear a piercing and that's all. This person is not big on jewelry and they rather wear modest clothes of neutral colors. I think they know what they are doing… This person is hot and naturally elegant. Any tweak to their image would make them gain too much attention or admirers they have no time to deal with.

They are ambitious, goal-oriented, natural manifestor, and really smart. Maybe not intellectual or booksmart, more like street smart. They are sharp, overconfident, and quick to make decisions. They are a bit distrustful as well, but they always end up following their heart. Your person is productive and ready to lose themselves in tons of work, so most people assume they are antisocial and have an overbearing personality, which is not the truth! Your soulmate has a tempered and calm personality. Their deep and clear voice grasps the attention of anyone on earshots as it’s both soothing and shocking. It does not match their rough appearance.

They seem to work in the audiovisual or communication field. I’m getting that they have to spend a lot of time in front of screens and analyzing information. They could be a filmmaker, screenwriter, journalist, advertising executive, graphic designer, architect or engineer. They have devoted their life to their job so they have only a few friends and they are the type to date a person for years but also stay single for long periods, since they don`t like to waste their free time on flighty things such as casual dating. They are a bit of a loner and feel like most people misunderstand their outlook on life, taking them as a rigid and blunt person that can only come up with extremist solutions.

Their independence and stubbornness are what have taken them farther in life. They think that working in groups is a hassle as they always end up doing all the work, the reason being whether their collaborators sucked or they couldn't let go of control and ended up wrapping everything up on their own. The path they chose to follow was solitary, but it made them become aware of their abilities and individual value. There’s a great chance this person works independently or has two jobs at the same time; one being a project of theirs. They are quite innovative and their ideas are well received by the eccentric and visionary, although they wouldn't say they fit in those groups.

Your soulmate has a strong will and honorable character, but hides their shy side behind a stoic face. You would learn that they are more of an introverted/shy person after you have your first argument. They could decrease the quality time you spend together to prioritize their work or being more closed off and evasive than usual, so the moment you call them out on their shit, they won't be able to argue back. No gaslighting or making stupid excuses, they would shut their mouth while listening to your explanation on why things are not working out for you two. You intimidate your soulmate whenever you get mad at them, and they would feel ashamed after realizing something they did got you to throw a fit. However, it's the only way to make them open their eyes to the issues within their relationship. They seem to forget at times that relationships also require discipline, nourishment, and commitment.  

They like to feel efficient by fixing problems and they would try to compensation you and make things smooth again between you two after learning they fucked up. Your soulmate is not problematic per se, but their life’s circumstances are troubling for a serious relationship. They are used to living and doing everything by themselves, so they can come off as selfish and disinterested in engaging in activities with others. This person is also older than you. I sense the energy of someone in their 30s (meaning you will meet them when they are that age and you are still in your 20s), so their perspective could clash with yours because of generational beliefs, maturity or family customs. I’m hearing that they would have to split their schedule for this relationship to work out. Apparently, they would have to travel a lot because of work and their free time is scarce, so they would have to give it all to you.

You have a solar relationship. I’m not sure whether I came up with this term by myself or I read it somewhere else, but I would define a “solar relationship” like a bond between two children; genuine, carefree, spontaneous and very emotional. A nasty argument broke off between your soulmate and you in the morning, but I assure you when you two meet again during the evening, you would have forgotten everything that happened earlier and fuse in an embrace. You felt sadder than angry for not being on good terms with your partner during the day. Neither of you want to give up on the warmth, playfulness and sincerity this relationship would bring you. That's why addressing an issue and fixing it might not be so terrible now as it was for both of you in past relationships.

I wouldn't say your soulmate has many exes, but there were plenty of people crushing on them in the past. They went on an actual date with some and others were just silent admirers of theirs, but they never took a moment to consider upgrading any relationship they had as they would do with yours. They would see you as someone who’s really sweet, untroubled, and magnetic. They can't help but want to get closer to you even if you are already in a relationship. They would feel greedy and won't understand where the feeling comes from or its meaning. They could even feel like a psycho for having such thoughts, until they realize they’ve started thinking of sharing the rest of their life with someone like you. Your soulmate would be able to see all your light and value as being mesmerized by your existence.

Your soulmate cares a lot about appearance so they get easily embarrassed when they feel exposed or like you`re drawing too much attention to the both of you. They rarely abandon the role of the adult, which makes me think that this person could be Capricorn or Cancer sun. Aqurius, Libra and Scorpio are also prominent signs in their natal chart. They`re known for being analytical but mostly fair to people. Even if they are a workaholic themselves, they are pretty aware of people's needs and the reasoning behind their shitty attitudes at work. They will empathize with people and feel a lot of compassion for humanity. They don`t let on that they worry about their closed ones and feel overjoyed the few moments they can meet them. Given their achievements and character, they are the pride of their parents and some of their friends.

They are a bit prudish therefore judgmental of the trends and quirks of people. It's like they never were young, but were born feeling old. They feel comfortable taking new responsibilities and having people admire them for their hard work. They feel attracted to their own idea of innocence. They might not think children are, as they see innocence holding hands with stillness and fragility. That's why they have a soft spot for animals and women. Regardless of your soulmate`s gender, they feel sick to their stomach everytime they get news about animals being mistreated and women being assaulted and killed in the daylight. This person thinks a lot about this world`s cruelty and feel impotent that they cannot do anything to make a real chance.

I’m glad you’ve made it so far! I hope this reading was to your liking and I would love to read your thoughts if you want to share them on the replies. I can give you a “10 messages of your soul mate” reading for a reasonable price, so feel free to contact me for more info. I do accept tips or donations through this link.

[dinoshimaaa]

one day, i will stop falling in love with you. (pt 1)

love, oh, love! the unstoppable force of nature, the very thing that makes us human. love is so beautiful. love is the everlasting sky and grass and sea and love is as similarly painful as it is ethereal. love is painful in the sacrifices made and the unspoken words and the unshed tears. oh, love is beauty and love is pain. love is worth everything just as much as it is not. (feat. kazuha, xiao, albedo, gn! reader) (pt 2 here)

or: this silly crush of theirs will pass. soon. maybe.

-

the winds are the sole witness to the poems that kazuha writes in your name (an embarrassing amount, in fact), most of which after completion are crumpled and disposed of, never to see the light of day again. there are some he is slightly more proud of and keeps for rereading on a much, much later date when he misses you. not that you’d know. not that you’d find out.

the first few poems of you were mostly childish, dreamy, and romantic; some of them about you being likened to a deity of some kind, descending upon teyvat to bless it with your otherworldly existence, or a flower that never stops blooming (or at least, that was how kazuha initially saw you: through rose-tinted glasses), but after having spent more time with you, the rose-tint faded away and his writing style develops into something more mature; the promise of an eternal love, enduring of hardships just for you, endless yearning from his side.

recently, the poems kazuha wrote have become more and more melancholic. the yearning stays, but now without the hope that it is reciprocated; the eternal love remains everlasting, but you never once look in his direction. just like his works of literature, the expression he wears everyday becomes evident of his emotions of late, too. many sailors of the crux are jesting about kazuha’s heart being broken by a fleeting infatuation which would explain the bitter smile he shows quite often (but is it really a jest if it is technically true?)

you leave after another visit, only having shown kazuha affection that stays within the platonic boundary. you have shown no desire to push further into something more. kazuha is aware that he has to get rid of his feelings soon, for he has been chasing this unrequited love for too long, and it is time to put a stop to his heart’s suffering.

one day, he will enter his room, pick up his quill, and write the final poem dedicated to you that holds a goodbye with indescribable bitter emotion, and maybe finally move on from you. that day will witness the end to all the days he spent cradling his unsent poems to his chest as he sleeps, teardrops falling onto the paper like a leaky faucet.

but today is not that day, not yet. let kazuha look at your retreating back for now once more.

-

the set of days that bring xiao the most peace is surprisingly lantern rite, despite the bustling atmosphere it fills liyue harbor with every year. to be specific, xiao feels the illusion of never-ending peace at the time when everyone releases their lanterns and they all illuminate the sky with the hopes and dreams of the mortals.

he sits on the grass again this year, positioning himself to get a good view for the lantern-releasing this time round. and this time, he is not alone.

you sit a respectful distance away from him. not too close to make a stranger uncomfortable, not too far to give him a stranger’s treatment. your hands rest behind you, supporting your torso as you lean back slightly, and you face up with your eyes closed and smiling in pleasure. xiao wordlessly watches your legs swing back and forth on the edge of the cliff, not doing anything about it. it felt like it was just supposed to be there, so he let it be. (if it were anyone else, he’d be slightly irritated from the nonstop movement.)

watch yourself, he says anyway. you can’t teleport midair like i do. there’s no guarantee i’ll catch you if you fall because of your flailing.

boo, what are you, my mom? you laugh. i’m just swinging my legs, that’s all. there’s nothing else to do while waiting for the lanterns. besides, i know you’ll catch me.

do i want to? we’ll see about that. he shrugs, earning a pinch from you when you reach over to his arm.

unbeknownst to you, xiao overthinks the words you two exchanged. it’s true he’d catch you if you did fall. he pays too much attention to you, that’s why. too much, in fact, in the way he glances at you ever so often when you’re in his line of sight, in the way he looks for you first when a battle has finished, in the way he thinks of you first when karmic debt creeps up on him.

oh, he’d definitely catch you if you fell. problem is— would you let him?

there is trust in the way you recklessly swing your legs in the air, without a harsh grip on the grass. there is trust that he will save you should you ever fall, and most likely if you were beginning to slip off, he’d prevent that from happening immediately. but that trust is not the same as the trust that xiao shows to you.

you stick flowers in his hair just to rile him up, while he thinks of gathering every flower across teyvat just to make you happy.

the first sighting of lanterns along with your delighted gasp pulls him from his thoughts. slowly, more and more surface from the cliff that both of you are watching from, and it’s not too long before the skies of liyue are dotted with gold.

every other year xiao looks at the lanterns, hoping for true freedom. this year he only looks at you.

it’s a good thing you aren’t paying attention to his staring, gazing only at the lanterns. (secretly, he wishes you would look back at him too.)

-

you are an experiment albedo cannot give a hypothesis to, a variable he has no means of controlling. you are intriguing as you are unpredictable, somehow unintentionally surprising albedo with new behaviour and spunk each passing day.

it doesn’t quite matter if it’s to your liking or not— but albedo is rather drawn to the unknown, the unimagined, the unspoken. you are expressive and yet still an enigma to him, and the desire in him to explore more of you is visceral.

he runs imaginary tests on you in his mind. if he’s fortunate, and if it’s possible, he does physical ones instead. the results that come back surprise him each time, but it would be futile to lie about the growing smile on his face.

the tests draw him more to you. sooner than later, he isn’t just drawn to you through means of experimentation.

it starts when he starts thinking about what you might actually like yourself rather that predicting your reflex behaviour through current data of you. when he starts debating if you would prefer apples to sunsettias. if you’d like to try fish marinated with fruit. if you’d eat anything at all. a couple “if”s later, and he had unknowingly created a sunshine sprat just for you. weird how that just happens out of nowhere, but it can’t go to waste.

(he’s doing this to not waste food, he says, as he gingerly wraps the lunchbox up in his favourite dark blue cloth, using alchemy to keep it warm until you arrive to try it. what do you mean the vegetables accompanying the dish happen to be your favourite? what a funny coincidence.)

the tests become more physical and thoughtless over time. some of them aren’t even planned in advance, too. like that time he subconsciously slid a cecelia behind your ear. or the other time he held your hand to feed himself from a spoon you held, shooting you a sly smirk as he pulled away, leaving you flustered. (haha, take that! who’s the surprised one now?)

he doesn’t remember when it evolves into anticipation of your next visit, or the fluttering feeling in his stomach each time you come over. and then the next thing he knows, the newest experiment involves him wondering if you’d ever let him run his fingers through your hair with gentle intimacy only sweethearts show each other.

albedo stills as he prepares the hypothesis. as always, it is hard to predict. as always, the reason for its unpredictability is…

ah, why’d you have to give such inconsistent results every time he conducts an experiment on you? why’d your reaction have to change with each test he does? don’t you know that consistent results are the basic need to come up with an accurate average to pinpoint the true relationship between the independent and dependent variables?

you’ve ruined it. now it’s going to be hard for albedo to possibly come up with a conclusion for his experiment. he couldn’t possibly spend time on an experiment he knows is impossible to complete, could he? (why would you never seem to reciprocate the interest albedo shows in you?)

not all experiments are meant to succeed, after all. albedo supposes he can let this one be, let it rest. even if the build up to the climax had been too enjoyable to let go. even if it had way too much investment to give up on. even if it ached to see it all go to waste. there was no point in pursuing something that would never give you the results you desire.

-

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU LIKED IT IM PROUD OF THIS ONE 🙏🙏

[oraclekleo]

Pick-A-Pile: Your self-healing status message

Hello and welcome to Kleo’s really quick Pick-A-Pile reading.

This time I have short messages for you regarding your self-healing process and progress. 

This is a timeless general reading so pick what resonates with you and dismiss the rest.

Disclaimer:

Don’t base life decisions purely on tarot readings

Tarot isn’t an exact science, your life is in your hands

I can never guarantee any of what’s said in the reading

Feedback: Feedback is very important for content creators and for me it’s even more important. Please, let me know whether the tarot readings resonate. If there’s anything you dislike or find off about my readings (like wording, topics, focus), just tell me. I don’t want you to write 1000-word feedback, very simple comments will do for me to stay motivated. I don’t know why I have to keep repeating this but this is something I do for you, guys, and when I don’t feel motivated to do tarot readings, I have many other things to do. The more motivation I get, the more readings you will get to read. The logic is very simple but it’s two sided.

🌸🌸🌸

Pile 01

You have been hurt and it still gives you pain. You might even feel left out or ostracised by others, maybe you have outgrown your friends or your soul family. Maybe somebody mistreated you repeatedly. Or maybe you mistreated yourself and didn’t listen to your own voice.

That needs to stop now. You are advised to cut ties with those who are toxic in your life, with projects that go nowhere and your own doubts about yourself. Forgiveness is the gift you give to yourself not to others. Let go of the past and allow your healing to start.

You are your own healer. Pamper yourself, build your self-esteem, become the person you always wanted to be. This is your time to steal the spotlight, to let people know how amazing a person you are. Don’t worry you will be alone when you get rid of the toxic people. Show yourself to the world and the right people will come to you. You are attractive, you are worth it, you are well prepared to embrace your own beauty and you deserve sweetness in your life. Your soultribe is out there but they will never find you if you don’t take the risk and present yourself. Start small, go for a walk and start a small talk with a dog walker perhaps (praise the dog, we dog lovers love other people praising our pets, you can’t say anything wrong as long as you say something nice about our dog, it’s the easiest way to actually start talking to a stranger), join a gym and make friends there, or join a group chat or online community based on your interest, become a creator of content and attract like-minded people into your life. The first step is the hardest one but believe you are ready to start!

🌸🌸🌸

Pile 02

Congratulations to you, dear Pile 2! You are mostly done with your healing, the cycle is over, you have made you are ready to make the next step. Your own soul is mended and fixed, your heart is overflowing, your life is on track (more or less).

It’s time for you to shift from self-healing to giving. You have a new interest or even basking in the light of the loving gaze of your new sweetheart. You have found your tribe, your soul family, there are people deeply attached to you and you are attached to them. You can now start creating something amazing together, be it a project, art, adventure, home or family.

This is all awesome but keep in mind to stay balanced and fair. Make sure your boundaries are respected, make sure your progress is not done at others’ expense. Be loyal and dependable but don’t let others abuse your kindness. You’re in a good place now but that doesn’t mean you are immune to heartaches.

🌸🌸🌸

Pile 03

The game is afoot, the healing and transformation has begun for you. Does it feel scary to face the past traumas and hurts within you, process them and let them go? Nobody said the healing process is easy. You might need a lot of strength and courage to deal with your spiritual baggage. Maybe you’re still carrying some difficult karma with you as well. 

However, the power of transformation and growth is in your hands, the seeds of happiness, love and abundance are already present in the fertile soil of your soul. Tend them and be generous. Make a plan for your future. What kind of person do you want to become through this healing? Start planning the steps to achieve your goals and dreams. Be ready to face challenges, overcome obstacles and accept assistance from the universe. If you are open to embrace the support, it will come to you like a healing summer rain, washing all the dust of your past away and leaving you feeling all fresh and rejuvenated. Your own inner power to reinvent yourself and restart your life is infinite. Once you know what your goal is, the path unfolds in front of you. Don’t be hesitant to accept help when it presents itself to you. This is your healing but nobody says you have to do all the labour by yourself. If you feel stuck with an issue, seek guidance and assistance from those who can provide it.

🌸🌸🌸

I hope you found something useful in this reading, let me know your thoughts and opinions.

Thank you for participating and be blessed regardless of the level of healing you are currently at.

Kleo 🦄

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I move into my own apartment for an internship instead of with friends like I initially said I (more likely than not) would for a while?

CW: kinda long but I don’t think I can put a readmore on anon :(

I (20sNB) have an opportunity to do an internship in spring of 2024. My friend (20sF) and her husband (20sM, we’re all within ~3yrs of each other) have been working on renovating a single-wide trailer in a trailer park in the same town as the internship, and it will be done with them living in it for at least a good few months before my internship. I’ve helped them with renovations whenever I’m in town and they’ve promised/shown me the room they’re reserving to be my space because they’re so sure I’ll move in with them.

I’ll be honest, I was planning to at first. But that changed with a variety of factors contributing, including but not limited to:

The trailer was reportedly full of black mold. Abandoned dressers would be opened and a puff of mold dust would emerge from the doors. It was also previously a hoarder’s house possibly due to the amount of junk in and around the trailer. Nobody wore PPE during renovations as far as I’m aware, and seem to believe they’re “in the clear” as they’ve shown no side effects yet. They’ve literally kept up only exactly what’s required to legally say they’re ‘renovating’ instead of tearing everything down and reusing the foundation, but it’s still a concern for me due to the casual way it was brought up and addressed.

My friends admitted that the neighbors don’t like them much due to the loud noises day in and day out from the renovation, resulting in the cops being called on them several times as a noise complaint. I have a rough time as it is being close to strangers, and that anxiety/paranoia? isn’t alleviated by hearing that and seeing people come out of their own trailers to glare at us whenever we work on the property.

My cat (20F) would be moving in with me. She’s indoor-only, but cats are bound to run around at some point. There are numerous unvaccinated and unfixed strays in the park and I’m concerned for her health; she’s having a hard enough time just keeping down food, a virus or infection would make me put her down.

My friends own a Pomeranian that does not respect other animals and continuously harasses them by barking and chasing after them. My cat does NOT like dogs, and my repeated warnings that having them in the same room would result in the dog getting blinded and possibly even more severely injured have been waved away with “The dog will learn soon enough to leave her alone!”. I would also have two relatively small lizards with me, both of whom leave their terrariums regularly for general holding sessions and to run around while I clean their tanks. There is a nonzero chance of them being beyond the safety of the glass and the dog eating them as the dog has a high prey drive.

Being with them would save me and my parents MASSIVE amount of money as rent is nearly nonexistent with how low it is in the park; I would mostly help with other bills (such as water, electricity, groceries) and general housemate things like cleaning up after myself and helping cook or chip in for takeout every now and then. Both friends know how restricted my ability to really develop is in my house due to my family (such as not knowing how to make anything more complicated than air fryer food) and have expressed that they are eager to help me learn and watch me grow into who I am.

But for a while I’ve been very strongly leaning towards an apartment instead despite rent being crazy (my parents are willing to pay half but with 0 guarantee of a paid internship and uncertainty as to whether I can hold a part-time job at the same time it would still be a blow to my savings). It’s gotten to the point where my language is full of “My future apartment will have….” “When I move into an apartment do you think I should….” when discussing the matter with my parents with zero verbal room for considering living with my friends. Advantages to the apartment include having my own space, being much closer to my internship location (though my friends weren’t all that far out themselves), and no concerns about my pets being around strangers or other animals. My parents and grandma agree that an apartment sounds the safest for my pets’ physical health and my mental health.

However, I have yet to tell my friends. The F is a friend of a decade now, and the M and I aren’t exactly close but regard each other as siblings. While she might be hurt but understanding, I don’t know if I want to risk him or both of them blowing up on me for my decision after at least 6mo of helping here and there and encouraging them to finish renovating their own place. The closest I’ve gotten to saying anything is warning them that it isn’t guaranteed I’ll move in with them when they use language suggesting it is and that I’m trying to keep my mind open to all housing options, including renting a space in a family friend’s basement. Neither of them seem to have caught on to what I’m doing, though. So, WIBTA if I finally break it to them that I’ve decided on an apartment and move into a space without them? This might seem like a non-issue to outsiders but it very much is to me :(

(For slight additional context: my friend is typically very understanding and we do our best to communicate our feelings about joint activities especially. Her husband is the type of guy to get mad at the ‘politics’ of the new Barbie movie and the joke made out of the Kens.)

What are these acronyms?

[adhdnursegoat]

Sequel to Human

Summary: Ever since you and Edward had sex, he has been mean - meaner than normal. You thought things would be different. You thought he needed you. You thought... well, you're not sure what you thought. But you have had enough of his shitty attitude.

Excerpt:

You have had enough.

There is only so much you can take.

Ever since you started working for Edward Nigma, your life has changed in ways you never expected. Despite working for one of Gotham's most notorious criminals, your day-to-day existence isn’t as grim as it could be. If anything, it is a strange blend of stability and chaos—mostly held together by your efforts to keep his lair and his life from spiraling further into disarray.

You have become an indispensable part of his routine, ensuring that everything runs smoothly. You clean his living spaces, cook his meals, and run errands that he cannot manage in public—like shopping for groceries and supplies. You wash his clothes, keep track of time for him when he gets lost in his work, and even organize his tools and schematics. You even organize his chaotic and, sometimes, disturbing notes, transcribing them, trying to make sense of the madness. And every time you are there, you make sure a fresh cup of black coffee is waiting for him on his workbench, just the way he likes it. Your adaptability and resourcefulness have made you an integral part of his life.

In return, he pays you well. The money is enough to cover your expenses, with a little extra left over to treat yourself every now and then—a rare luxury. Your life, which used to teeter on the edge of danger and desperation, now feels oddly secure despite working for a criminal susceptible to psychosis. You are no longer subjected to the risks and abuse that came with your previous job. The steady income and the sense of purpose you have found in this work have brought you a sense of peace you had not thought possible.

Before you started working for Nigma, you were a dancer—an exotic one. Well, more accurately, you were a stripper. You made just enough to survive, to keep a roof over your head in this unforgiving city. You were good at what you did, but the real money, the kind that could make life easier, was found in the darker, more dangerous aspects of the business—things you politely but firmly declined to engage in.

Those nights were long and exhausting, filled with the leers of strangers and the constant pressure to push boundaries you were not willing to cross. It was a life of constant uncertainty, where you never knew what the next night might bring. The money was never guaranteed, and the threats were always lurking in the shadows. But you stood strong, refusing to compromise your principles.

It was tempting at times, seeing the girls draped in luxury—Van Cleef necklaces glittering at their throats, mink coats warming their slender frames, Louboutins clicking against the acrylic dance floors. They had the sun-kissed tans of women who’d spent their summers on yachts in the Mediterranean, vacations paid for by their generous, if not questionable, clientele. You couldn’t help but want those things too. Who wouldn’t? The allure of a life steeped in opulence, where the harsh edges of the city were softened by the gloss of wealth, was nearly irresistible.

But you just couldn’t do it.

You respected those girls, admired their tenacity and the way they wielded their beauty as both a weapon and a shield. They were skilled, crafty, and knew how to play the game in a way that kept them ahead. Yet, there was a line you just couldn’t cross—a part of yourself you weren’t willing to sell, no matter how tempting the rewards. You had a feeling that if you ever did, there would be no going back. You would be swallowed whole by that life, and whatever plans you had for the future would crumble under its weight.

You always wanted to leave the life of a dancer eventually, to save up enough money to go back to school, become a nurse, start fresh, and build something that was not tied to the world of flashing lights, shitty club music, and desperate men. But it was a slow climb, one that often felt like you were clawing your way out of quicksand, each step forward pulling you further down. The money was not bad, but it was not enough either. And the thought of staying in that life forever, of becoming one of those girls who never found a way out, terrified you more than anything.

So, when Edward Nigma offered you a job, you didn’t hesitate. The promise of better pay, safety, and security was too good to pass up. You didn’t just jump at the opportunity—you sprinted toward it, desperate to leave behind the life you’d been living. Even if the work was menial and technically meant you were aiding and abetting a wanted criminal, it was a way out. And that was all you needed.

But there is more to it than that. It helped that he was easy on the eyes—those icy blue eyes peering out from behind silver, wiry glasses, dark scruffy hair falling into his face, and a five o’clock shadow that added an edge to his otherwise refined appearance. He exuded a charm that was as dangerous as it was intoxicating, drawing you in without effort.

The first time you met, he’d tested you with a riddle, a glint of amusement in his eyes as he watched you puzzle it out. And when you did—albeit with some struggle—he seemed almost impressed. That is when you were hooked. Something about the way his mind worked fascinated you, and it wasn’t long before you found yourself completely captivated. You truly believed he was the smartest man you’d ever met, capable of great things—terrible, yes, but great all the same.

And then there was his voice, smooth and rich, like an auditory massage. You loved listening to him talk, especially when he was in one of his rare moods where he’d actually teach you a thing or two. He had a way of making even the most complex concepts seem almost within reach, and though you knew you’d never understand half of what he was saying on your own, you relished those moments.

But there was a darker side to him, one that you couldn’t ignore. For every moment of brilliance, there was a cutting remark, a reminder of your place in his world. He had a habit of degrading you, of calling you an idiot whenever you didn’t grasp an idea quickly enough, or when you made a mistake in your work, or broke a piece of equipment accidentally. It stung, every time, but you learned to brush it off, to let it slide like water off a duck’s back. Because, in his own twisted way, he made you feel lucky to be a part of his life, to be close to someone as extraordinary as him. You believed in his delusions of grandeur.

You often wondered if you were just fooling yourself, if the allure of his intelligence and the security he offered were enough to outweigh the sharp edges of his personality. But every time you thought about leaving, about finding something else, something better, you found yourself hesitating. There was something about Edward Nigma that kept you tethered to him, even when you knew it was not healthy. Maybe it was the way he could make you feel like you were the only person who truly mattered to him, even if it was just for a fleeting moment.

Whatever it was, it was enough to keep you there, caught in the web of his brilliance, his cruelty, and his charm.

But now, you are starting to wonder if you made the right choice.

Continue on Ao3 for the full length story: Make Me Cry

Credit to Pintrest user Filomena Vianci for the black and white photo.

[rivangel]

considering that lots of people say that Levi's main love languages is acts of service, how do you think he'd give reassurance to others? can be a friend or romantic partner, doesn't matter.

but do you think he'd just stay quiet and listen to the person talking, offer solution, try to do something nice for them?

i also say his main love language is acts of service :)

the distinction between affection and reassurance is important i feel. levi, who’s naturally empathetic, is the type of person who would commonly give reassurance, but in his own special way. this is reserved for words. on the other hand, levi shows affection very very rarely in canon - again in his own way, but with action and words.

to him, action is a step-up in his care/affection/respect towards a friend or loved one, so he’s more likely to give words than the latter. for example:

to reassure farlan after their argument in which farlan wants levi to follow his plan and let them come on the expedition, levi tells him that he’s going to trust him (or them both that he’ll believe in them, depending on the ova vs the manga).

to reassure eren at the start of the uprising about his inability to harden his titan form, levi basically goes on a rant about how disappointed everyone is and bitching about the situation before explaining how the air outside the walls smells better than inside… aka he wants everyone, especially eren, to keep fighting no matter the odds.

he reassures erwin during their last conversation by telling him that he fought well, and couldn’t have gotten this far without him, but also makes the choice that will kill many people into his own hands instead of leaving it in erwin’s, which is an act of service, as well as letting him pass was.

so to be succinct, levi’s reassurance is rarely affectionate, but when it is, it includes an act of service.

anyway, still, levi isn’t good with words and he knows it. he’s going to stay quiet as long as you want to speak.

what’s interesting about levi is that he always speaks logically, no matter what it’s about. (or almost always if my recollection isn’t 100%.)

for example, after the 57th expedition, as he and eren are waiting for erwin, instead of ‘i don’t want you to think that i hate or resent you; you can still be comfortable here. i know you idolize me, but im not infallible. plus whether it was your fault or not, we have to keep moving forward’ - levi complains and makes a bad attempt at a joke. eren points out that he’s rly being talkative, but levi claims that’s he’s *always* talkative. eren opens up a little about his regret, pointing out that even levi was injured, to which he reminds him that no one knows how things will turn out.

so he’s very straightforward but at the same time roundabout. it’s one of my favorite things about levi. it’s the frame of pretty much all of his interactions, including towards those he worries and cares about.

so if you want comfort it’s awkward, and he states a lot of seeming facts, but he feels it deeply, how much he wants you to be comforted.

so naturally, i don’t think levi is even capable of giving reassurance without a solution😭

“Levi im sad my brother died. i feel so alone :(”

“i’m not a stranger to loss either, so don’t worry. but don’t miss his funeral, because it’ll be your last chance to say anything to him. are you going alone?”

and yes, any degree of sadness you feel or comfort you want from him is guaranteed to come with small acts/favors, especially since he’s aware he doesn’t exactly thrive in that area.

all in all, for him words are difficult and touch is difficult, so he prefers using acts of service and quality time to give reassurance to you / someone he cares about. i don’t think gift-giving applies to reassurance, but if so, that falls in the middle for Levi ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[dorkofclanlavellan]

Turning Point

Note 1: I got the idea for this chapter late last night and resisted the urge to work on it then because I was still fleshing it out. Also, I will be ignoring some "canon" information like the Killer Croc file, etc because I didn't care for the canon version. Faceclaim: Ethan Cutkosky as Jason Todd Pairing: Bruce Wayne x GN!Reader (Sweetie) Warnings: Violence, descriptive child abuse, alcohol abuse, drug abuse, vague reference of disturbing images on a bad guy's laptop. Sweetie as an alternative to Y/N (for those new to the series)

Jason pocketed the key the baker had given him the night before. He'd been scared out of his mind when Batman had shown up. It had been difficult to eat with Batman staring him down, expression entirely unreadable. But the baker had practically dragged the dubbed Demon of Gotham out of the kitchen.

Jason had a talent for moving without being detected. It was a skill he'd been forced to develop early on. So, quietly moving to the doorway the pair had ducked out, Jason began to listen in. They were whispering, clearly not wanting him to hear their conversation. Too late for that.

"He's a kid. I sincerely doubt he's going to kill me if I give him a place to hide out whenever he needs it." The baker had scoffed.

"You can't guarantee that, Sweetie. You don't know anything about him. He broke in. With a crowbar clearly he planned on using it on something." Batman's response made Jason cringe. He never planned on hurting anyone but he hadn't done himself any favors bringing something that could be considered a weapon.

"Pfft, yeah, on my display case! Bruce, I get that you're worried about me. And that's sweet and all. But this kid needs help!" It was at that moment that Jason realized why the baker had looked so familiar. He kicked himself for not remembering sooner. This was Bruce Wayne's newfound love.

But now he knew Bruce Wayne's secret. He took learning Batman's secret identity as his cue to slink back to his seat before his eavesdropping could be discovered. The adults had returned, seemingly unaware of the fact that Jason had overheard crucial information.

After he'd finished eating, the baker, whom he'd later learned to call Sweetie, had handed Jason a pair of keys. They'd explained the copper-colored one was to the bakery and the silver one was to their loft upstairs. They'd told him if he ever got hungry again or just needed a place to hang out for a while, he could let himself in, in a less destructive way, whenever he wanted.

Jason had been confused as to why this complete stranger was so interested in helping him. He'd expected to get hit when he'd been discovered in the bakery. And instead, they'd fed him, given him access to the bakery and their own loft, and had stood up for him to Batman.

He had just slipped out of the bakery for the second time after having been fed yet again by Sweetie and hanging around for what he assumed was long enough for his stepmother and her boyfriend to be passed out before he got home.

Boy was he wrong. As Jason slipped into the run-down apartment and began to silently make his way to his bedroom, his stepmother's boyfriend, Clay, stepped out of the kitchen, right in front of him, with a beer can in hand. Jason froze, hoping Clay wouldn't notice him. Again his hopes were dashed.

Confusion and surprise briefly flashed over Clay's face, followed immediately by anger.

"Where the fuck have you been, you little shit?!" At the man's yelling, Jason took a defensive stance, preparing for Clay's fist to come flying.

Then his stepmother, Sheila, came staggering out of the living room. "S'going on, baby?" She muttered, glazed-over eyes barely registering Jason's presence.

"Your shithead kid finally dragged his ass in! He has no respect for you or me, waiting so long before he finally shows up!" Clay snarled, stepping close enough to Jason to make the boy grimace at his foul breath.

"The fuck have you been?" Sheila demanded, glaring at Jason.

"Nowhere. I-" Jason's attempt at an excuse was interrupted by Clay's fist making contact with his browline, knocking him down to the floor. The blow made it impossible for Jason to register what Clay was yelling at him now. But he could take a guess.

Steeling himself, Jason kicked out at Clay's shin. Knocking the drunken man's leg out from under him. He attempted to scramble backward up the stairs but Clay was on top of him at a surprising speed.

Another punch, this time to his nose, and Jason silently wished it wouldn't be broken later. Followed by Clay's meaty hands wrapping around Jason's neck. Jason lashed out with both his hands and his feet, making contact on numerous occasions. But it was futile. Clay was too amped up on whatever drugs he'd taken to notice any pain now.

Jason could faintly hear Sheila screaming at Clay to let him go, not out of concern for Jason but out of worry that Clay would go to prison for killing him. Jason's vision was getting spotty and he was certain he was either going to die or at least black out and be left on the floor overnight like last time.

Then suddenly Clay's weight and hands were off of him. It became easier to breathe so Jason moved onto his hands and knees and began taking deep gasping breaths. They were a bit painful but Jason didn't care. He could barely make out the sounds of a scuffle behind him but the blood pumping in his ears drowned out most of the commotion.

Finally, once it became less of a chore to breathe and his heart rate, vision, and hearing returned to normal, Jason realized that someone had saved him. He had an inkling of who it was and the sight of his stepmother and her unconscious boyfriend bound a few feet away confirmed it. He heard the sound of laptop keys clacking in the other room. He followed the sound to the living room, where Clay kept his laptop hidden in the locked coffee table drawer.

There was Batman, typing away. Obviously looking for something to gain Clay further charges.

"How did you..." He started, wincing at the scratching in his throat. He rubbed his neck, hoping the swelling would lessen.

"Did you really think I wouldn't keep an eye on you after your little break-in last night?" Batman responded, not even bothering to look at Jason.

Jason watched him for a second, thinking how odd it was that he had the richest man in Gotham sitting on his ratty couch, using his stepmom's asshole boyfriend's laptop. The richest man in Gotham had just saved him. The richest man in Gotham had no idea that Jason knew he was Batman.

For yet another time that night, Jason was proven wrong.

"You seem to like spying on people, Jason." Batman suddenly said, again not looking away from his work on the laptop.

"Not really spying since you're in a common area of my home." If he didn't know any better, Jason could have sworn Batman chuckled at Jason's snark.

"True. But listening in on my conversation with Sweetie last night..." Bruce trailed off and Jason noted that his tone held no anger or hostility, merely amusement. Which just confused the boy even more.

Before Jason could ask or say anything else, Batman suddenly slammed the laptop closed. A sickened look on his face. Clearly, he'd seen something disturbing on Clay's laptop. Which didn't really surprise Jason. Clay would do anything for a quick buck.

Outrage soon washed over Batman's face and Jason remained rooted in place as he watched Batman storm over to Clay. Jason's eyes grew wide as Batman whipped out a red hot ring in the shape of his bat symbol and he couldn't tear his eyes away as the side of Clay's face was branded.

He only looked away when he saw blue and red lights flashing outside the window, growing closer by the second, accompanied by a chorus of sirens. When he turned back around Batman was gone.

But somehow Jason knew it wouldn't be his last encounter with Gotham's guardian.

[chaosteddybear]

For Mix! Eros 4, Storge 5, Ludus 5

And for Sasli! Eros 1, Philia 5, Agape 1

Omg thank you so much!!! This was a delight to answer 🥰🥰

Mix:

Eros 4: Do they believe in love at first sight? Have they ever developed a crush or romantic (or erotic) fixation upon a stranger based on their appearance alone?

Hm. Love? Based on appearance? No not at all. He is demi as heck.

However, he does recognize when people put effort in, which for him scratches at getting to know them as a person and liking what he sees. He is a fan of dedication in all its forms... His heart also skips a beat when flattered or given attention in certain ways.. Piercing eyes can definitely help with this. A neutral face with shining eyes? Hhhh.

Aside from visuals, he puts a lot of weight into what they're doing when he sees them at first sight! He won't make up his mind right away - he needs to study people for a while to see if he trusts them at all - but he could develop an interest maybe a "crush" if they're fitting his interests in terms of what they're doing.

For example if he hadn't yet met the queen before she showed up as the only capable member of his aemy, he might have been very awestruck by her. But he did know her, and by then he didn't like her. It did put her more towards neutral though in his mind... He has very complicated feelings about her. He wants her to report to him as a member of his army though.

Storge 5: Is your OC able to love without necessarily needing or expecting reciprocation or reward? Or are all their relationships to some extent transactional? Have they ever loved another person unconditionally, whether a child or another adult?

🥺🥺🥺

YES. Mix really *only* loves this way. When someone wants to return it, he is SO CONFUSED. They must be the most selfless person in the world.

I really respect him for how he handles his love for Sasli. She gives nothing but friendship back and he's.. OK with that. He doesn't push. He does look out for her though..

He really struggles with a certain golden haired man, thinking he's joking when he flirts. But he is so clear, Mix doesn't take too long to understand what's going on. After the party, the walls around his heart fall down and he realizes that to give him what he needs, he needs to himself be more vulnerable. To accept that he might be loved. He really didn't need this as repayment for his UM, rash actions such as killing people that seem to trigger him.

It also took him a long time and a lot of angst to accept that one man in particular loves him. First he thought he could be useful as his bodyguard..advisor..hunter.. you know, helpful things, using his skills. Maybe all of the above, and maybe one other thing too? He didn't want anything in return. He explicitly expected nothing. What do you mean, it would be fine if he was none of those things? How is he supposed to he useful, valuable, then? What else is there to want from Mix????

Ludus 5: What seduction techniques are most likely to be effective when it comes to your OC? Are there some things guaranteed to get them going? Or are they immune to such things?

Seduction?!?! Oh boy. I needed to think on this one for a while.

I think vulnerability and aggressive need. Show him that what you want is him - raw and without him needing to do anything for it. Show him what *you* need, and that it's him. But unfortunately this doesn't seduce him. It just opens the doors - if he is already interested - for him to consider it an actual option.

Oh! And do things for him that he thinks you want him to do for you! Turn the tables.

Sasli:

Eros 1: Is your OC romantic in the traditional sense? Do they enjoy giving or receiving gifts of flowers or confectionary? Or are there other courtship traditions from their culture of origin that are important to them?

AH! She does love these things. However, she doesn't follow rules about what is and isn't romantic, so maybe traditional is the wrong word. But she loves all gifts! Flowers. Food. You name it! She appreciates the thought. It matters more what the thing means to you than what some society deemed romantic.

Big gestures. Her jealousy and PDA kink play a huge part here too - make everyone else watch them be happy, and she will be so happy 🤭

To her, the most romantic thing someone can do is find her a "perfect" rock and give it to her. Perfect meaning that it reminds them of her or reflects who they are. She will want to know why they picked that rock, and even if they don't tell her, she will think about it a lot. She will keep the rock in her pocket at all times.. Reaching out for it when they're not near. It will calm her and help her feel loved when her emotional state sinks, which it does.

Philia 5: What is their most fervent wish for their best friend(s)? How far would they go to make it happen?

Oh my gosh. What a fascinating question for her... Hhhh I need to think about this!

Perhaps love and contentment. She would really want her friends to feel safe and taken care of. There's a reason she (platonically) loves Mix - he does this for their friends.

She also, in the back of her mind, wishes she could fulfill their needs of her. To be able to satisfy everyone who wants her. To be able to allow them to enjoy her without her actual desires of her own getting in the way.

But. After she left her hometown, she's really more focused on for once meeting her own needs. She's a relationship anarchist and enjoys having no strings attached, so she's free to come and go as she pleases. Well, with most people.

Agape 1: Does your OC wish to make the world a better place? How far do they see that as being their responsibility? What lengths would they go to in order to help achieve this?

Unfortunately Sasli has no delusions of changing the world.

But if she could change anything? Bias based on people's history especially before they were born. As a tiefling who grew up among wood elves and was vilified for who she was, having to surpress a lot of herself because they found it scary, she would love for this to just not be a thing anymore for anybody. Her father a Levistus tiefling and her mother a Glasya cambion.. She won't let her blood get her down, and she resents the punishments and judgements her ancestors get, too.

She also struggles with racial based goodness and badness. She loves Kobolds, for example. So even though she is usually very low key, she is a powerful monk and the one thing that will make her snap when she otherwise has her cool (that, or danger to her lover). WOTR would be a very hard universe for her, and I am nervous about thinking of her in it. She would be on the demon side technically, but not participating. Causing chaos from within to disrupt progress. Is there a trickster path for the demon side? 🤭

The asks post

[acourtofthought]

You know why E/riel isn't happening? Because neither Lucien or Gwyn have ever knowingly hurt Elain or Azriel. Lucien is innocent in who he was mated to but he's been nothing but respectful towards Elain since their bond snapped.

And Gwyn has absolutely no idea the mess that is Az's current love life therefore her actions toward him are 100% innocent. The moments she's been flirty with him and he's responded with smiles, amusement, laughter, etc., when Nesta tells him that he's Gwyn's new ribbon, he doesn't push back or claim his heart is already spoken for.

Elain is still my favorite character but even I can admit she's made mistakes in a way that Gwyn has not when it comes to ships.

Do I understand why Elain is scared and pulling away from Lucien?

Absolutely and that's why I don't vilify her for it (just like I didn't vilify Nesta for pushing Cassian away and sleeping with other males even though she knew how badly it would hurt Cassian after she confessed her feelings for him during the war).

Elain has gone through some terrible things and also suddenly found herself connected to / thinking about someone else when in a perfect world, she should have been able to spend that time only focused on her recovery (rather than feeling pulled to Lucien and worrying about his feelings). So she completely disconnected from him (not healthy but not as bad as she could have handled it).

Do I understand why she's trying to prove something by directing her attention towards Az? Proving to herself that she gets to call the shots?

Sure, it's easy to understand her actions. But, it's still not the healthiest / best way to go about things. Instead she's sneaking around under the cover of night leaving Az's gift in his pile of presents because she didn't get Lucien one. Instead she's still never had a conversation with Lucien, asking him not to come around if that's not what she wants. Instead she accepts his gifts rather than returning them if she knows she isn't interested. Instead she's ready to kiss Az knowing that Lucien is staying in the house (seriously, they had a YEAR to kiss if that's what they wanted but figured that was the best time?). She sees Lucien is struggling therefore her actions are knowingly causing him pain. Does she owe Lucien anything? No, however there's something to be said when you knowingly hurt someone's feelings even if they are a stranger to you.

Neither she or Lucien asked for the bond but since it's something they both got, their feelings are now intertwined on some level and so far, only Lucien has been extremely respectful of that fact.

I realize why SJM wrote it this way, it creates tension and a "will they, won't they?" scenario. She's not the kind of author who makes the journey of her endgame couples sweet and happy and easy. Every one of her romances has been an angsty and difficult uphill battle and an Archeron sister putting her mate through Hell before accepting her bond is par for the course. But the male proving that he will suffer through whatever she needs and long for her through all her inner turmoil is pretty much a guarantee of a HEA, something Lucien has excelled at.

As for Az. He couldn't answer Rhys's question about his feelings for Mor therefore he was knowingly going to make out with Elain without being over Mor completely. He admitted how wrong it was to be moving in to kiss her, how wrong it was that he got her the gift he did when her mate was in the house with them. Then he knowingly took the gift he got for Elain and chose to give it to another.

All the jealousy and bitterness he feels toward Lucien, acting irrationally when it comes to respecting another males mating bond and their ally at that, and it was so easy for him to move right on to being swept up in the thought of another females happiness.

I know why that is, it's pretty obvious SJM is setting them up to be mates so he's going to respond to Gwyn in a way that he hasn't for other females. But it just shows that Az has spent an entire year acting like a fool, being ready to burn bridges that could ruin the tentative peace of their world for a female he doesn't truly care about in any sort of lasting (romantic) way. He was so bent out of shape over what the others got (a mating bond) that he's knowingly acted poorly.

I doubt SJM is going to have Az and Elain together in the end when there are two innocent characters (one a confirmed mate and one a possible mate) wrapped up in their storylines with them.

Nesta and Cassian had done wrong to one another but they did not drag a third possible love interest into their relationship drama.

Rhys and Feyre had their moments of acting poorly but the only "victim" in their love story was Tamlin and SJM made sure to make it so he looked like he was in the wrong even more than they were.

The fact that Elain has been hurting Lucien (not maliciously but knowingly) means we'll see an apology to Lucien from her in their book, just like Nesta apologized to Cassian in hers.

The fact that Azriel called Elain a mistake after almost kissing her, then gifted the necklace he got for her to an innocent Gwyn while not being able to confirm to his friend whether he's still hung up on a third female means Az will be apologizing to a few people in his book.

SJM doesn't make innocent bystanders casualties of other ships. Gwyn has been completely in the dark from the mess that has been Azriel's romantic life as of late and she's not going to be a plot device just so E/riel can end up together and she's left hurting.

Sarah has written Lucien and Gwyn to be nothing but amazing when it comes to Elain and Az and it's not so they can lose their mates in future books.