#Dai Paroxysm

[goldenkenku]

15 and 21 for daki, 25 for allen? :3c

TRUELY OBSESSED WITH DAKI'S NUMBERS THEYRE PERFECT TY!!

15. Who is your oc's best friend?▪︎[Daki]

Daki's best friend is Dai Tadashi! I don't talk about him here very often but behold:

(BTW. Dai is a MUCH less grumpy guy and is generally super nice, this is just the only pic of him by himself that I have on hand LOL)

Anyways theyre childhood friends actually! They got introduced to eachother by Dai's parents and Daki's grandma lol and bonded very quickly because of similar interests! Since then theyve been genuinely inseparable and consider eachother family.

Granted Dai moved out of his parent's house and has his own apartment, but Daki visits Very Often and considers it a second home away from home yknow

Here's a lil doodle I have them together!!! The besties ever....

21. Hobbies your oc enjoys?▪︎[Daki]

OK SO. In the Paroxysm universe there's these things that are referred to as "Curses" (and in short they're basically like. A /really/ monstery personification of an emotion) and while there's a bunch of lore about them in universe but smth smth basically Daki likes to study/research them in his free time!

He was raised by his grandmother who was always the superstitious type, and because of that he grew up with plenty of stories about the kinds of Curses that plauged history™ lol. But yeah! He got really into it at first because of him wanting to feel closer to his grandma but developed a genuine interest in that sort of thing thats lasted him up til now (He has a touch of the tism <333)

BUT LIKE. His interest in Curses and all that spread to paranormal things like ghosts, cyrptids, etc etc as well LMAO and actually made (the Paroxysm version of) a YouTube channel (and. I hate to say it but a reddit) to discuss and talk abt all that LMAO

25. Favorite food and color for your oc?▪︎[Allen]

I was originally gonna give just One food for them but as a treat you get two(2)² of Allen's favorite foods LOL

Allen's favorite at work food is prolly smth like stuffed naan made the night before (by Richard, their disability aid robot) because smth smth she is a Really Busy guy especially because theyre helping run The Top Medical industry basically Ever is suffering The Horrors (chronic pain and illnesses) so unfortunately they dont have all the time or energy in the world.

HOWEVER. If they have a solid night off they like to have butter chicken with plenty of bread to go with it

[thebroccolination]

BOUNPREM’S VAMPIRE SERIES HAS A TITLE

I love it. :’)

“To the Last” is all poetic. High stakes, too, knowing Boun’s gloriously dramatic tastes.

That “find the truth about their backgrounds” is VERY intriguing to me. Imagine if Ramil and Punn were lovers centuries ago, and Ramil became a vampire and Punn chose not to, so when Punn died, Ramil got all cold and resentful. And then Punn’s reincarnated, and he feels this draw to vampires, and he wakes Ramil, but he can’t remember his past life, so Ramil’s protective of him but also profoundly rage-y with these feelings of abandonment and helplessness.

Or it’s something totally different, but that’d be cool.

I’m so excited I’m so excited I’m so excited!

Between Boun’s creativity and passion while writing the story, and BounPrem’s track record with collaboration and communication, this is a very promising series to follow. I don’t even like vampires and I’m sure I’ll love it.

I’m so proud of Boun and Prem for all they’ve accomplished and how much support and love they’ve shown each other in pursuing their dreams. They’re going to be magnificent. <3

[onekisstotakewithme]

One day I’m going to get so anxious over a nothing problem that my heart is going to simply explode. Yeah. Like a horse.

[billpottsismygf]

.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

you Know that phil is So [lying on his bed beaming writing in his diary kicking his legs] about liking orville

[proto-language]

don't know how i am meant to keep track of it all (essays presentations applications abstracts meals dishes laundry money societies sports relationships showers dissertations proposals sleeping more than 3 hours a night) without losing the will to fucking live

[persephoneflouwers]

Hi ,I think I might die hahaha, i'm not kidding. It's been about a month that sometimes when I'm walking or when I'm lying in bed, I feel dizzy and it's like the room is spinning around me, and in those moments I can't get out of that situation. It lasts for about a few seconds.Either my head becomes heavy or numb. I'm afraid to go to the doctor, and I haven't told anyone in my real life either. so i will die? Tell me pls

I have optical glasses, I have a problem to see the far distance, I have no problem to see near. I haven't worn my glas for exactly one month, I'm tired if it , does this have anything to do with my dizziness?

Hi! Happy New Year ✨ it’s hard to say because I don’t know anything about you and I don’t know if I’m allowed to say things like this but to me the symptoms you are describing belong to a positional vertigo (BPPV to be precise) case. I would try with wearing your glasses again, and see if this dizziness settles down a bit. Otherwise I would recommend to see first of all your doctor and maybe then a specialist like a otorhinolaryngologist.

[dvchvnde]

EXCERPT: JOHN PRICE, WINTER SOLDIER AU.

You're still getting used to the sight of him—bare faced in patches: the beard shorn off into a mere shadow of what it was before; a choice he'd made for himself after scrubbing down in a long shower, refusing any help or medical aid—and he doesn't make it any easier for you in these brief, uncomfortable stages of acclimation you suffer through.

Hands lashing out into dead air. Fingers catching, unyielding and firm, on your skin. Nails—split and jagged; regrown in patches after being ripped off over and over again (for hree years, is the mocking whisper snaking along the nausea when you look at the pinked-tinged beds)—burrowing into your flesh. Anchoring you in place as he bends down, moulds his frame around you. Malleable shadow eating you whole.

Indomitable.

John Price was always an intimidating man.

Towering. Broad. Gruff. Surly. Mean old man was often thrown around amongst the new recruits, ones too scared to voice what they really thought:

Miserable fucking bastard.

His weight thrown around like an extension of himself—all raw, barely contained anger trembling out through the cracks. Lashing thick, brutal lines across his forehead. In the sharp, downward tug of his mouth tucked behind a bed of brunt umbre hair.

He was difficult to deal with on a good day, even when he'd offer that mocking smile of his. A parody of geniality—lips split upwards like a crocodiles maw.

(come, come, put your hand inside this beasts jaws; he won't bite—)

As fucking if.

You've only known him in pieces. Patches. Barely enough to make a whole picture, but you could still fill in the empty spaces with that grizzled anger of his that seemed to roll off of him in waves.

(no wonder he burns so hot—it's all that fury.)

Mostly, he'd come to dress you down in front of everyone watching. Snapping at the sight of your desk—organised chaos a true oxymoron (and for the most part, that seemed to be what he thought of you: a moron)—and how you handled files, and how you waltzed around like you owned the place—

and do you, sweetheart? do you own this place, mm? is that why you never listen to a goddamn thing i tell you?

All-in-all: a miserable fucking man.

And one made of sharp, brutal contradictions. Paradoxes layered over each other. Sealed with fury—of the righteous, pragmatic kind—and reinforced with an utilitarian core. Forlorn hope in the distinct shape of a man, one always readying himself for a pyrrhic victory (but a victory, nevertheless).

Easy, in hindsight, to deal with when you knew how to navigate the frothing gyre of anger and juxtapositions that made up the man who brute force, physicality, to get what he wanted.

By sharp contrast, the version of him who stands before is more enigmatic than the mangled mess of savagery and labyrinthine defenses. Almost unknowable. Unfathomable.

Even more so when he lifts his hand—scarred up, still blistered and bruised from fighting his way through fire and kin to get to you—and presses those mangled knuckles to the swell of your cheek, as tender as a man like him could ever allow himself to be, and runs a soft, shallow line down the side of your face. Eyes—still that same, dizzying blue—darken into liquid sapphire as he stares at you. Inexplicably soft. Lids crested. Half-mast in pleasure as if staring at your face was relaxing. Comforting.

Something swirls in those deep, endless lagoons. Some implacable emotion—all at once too much; too heavy—frissoning over his feature. A paroxysm. You can't catch it. Can't define it.

It's unquantifiable. Unknowable. And yet—

You know, instantly, that John Price would never look at you with something this archaic, this intense, brimming up like geysers in the endless spill of blue that can't seem to look away from you.

This man is not John Price.

But when he pulls you into a kiss—one softer and sweeter than you'd ever imagined the infamous captain could ever be capable of—you let him.

In fact, you kiss back.

And you'd really rather not think about what that says about you.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

hysteria

kinktober, day twenty-eight

a/n: look, we already know that I'm a nerd when it comes to medical history, so this really shouldn't come as a surprise. only thing surprising about it is how fucking long it took for me to finally write this kinda fic, damn, because this fantasy is ancient.

summary: “miss, I’m afraid to inform you that you have hysteria.”

warnings: doctor!aleksander morozova x innocent!reader, smut, dubcon, historical au, medical kink, time accurate sexism, fingering, sex toys (vibrator, fuck machine), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, size kink, squirting, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, creampie, overstimulation

word count: 1607

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023

Eyes glued to the clipboard in his hand, doctor Morozova quietly read up from the list of symptoms he had just scribbled down, “…unmarried, insomnia, increased nervousness during social interactions… miss,” he then lifted his obsidian gaze and told you gravely, “I’m afraid to inform you that you have hysteria.”

“I-I do?” 

“Yes, I’m terribly sorry,” he laid the papers down on the desk before him, “seems like your womb is not where it’s supposed to be and that can cause all sorts of problems as you can see by your symptoms.”

Fingers weaved so tightly in the fabric in your lap it nearly broke through, ruining your dress, your panic began to bubble out, “what should I do, doctor? Is there a cure?”

“There is,” he nodded, subtly raising a hand up to soothe your nerves, “the way to relieve this disorder is by causing something called a hysterical paroxysm,” he informed, abruptly redirecting his stare down upon the woodgrain of the tabletop, “now, usually, if a woman is married, the husband is to perform the treatment, but since you’re not,” his eyes flickered back up to find yours, “I’ll help rid your body of this ailment.”

“Really? Thank you,” you gasped, “what, uh, what does it entail?”

“Oh, it’s simple enough,” he waved a casual hand, “you just rid yourself of your undergarments and lay down on the exam table for me.”

“I-…” you blinked, eyes wide before you swallowed, “…alright…”

Getting up from the chair opposing his desk, you walked around the flimsy partition set up in the corner. Reaching under your dress, you timidly pulled your underwear down your legs, past your stockings and off. Folding the garment in a neat little bundle, you settled it on the small stool that stood back here before stepping back out from behind the cover. 

Now settled at the bottom of the exam table on a seat, he gestured for you to get up onto the slab before you apprehensively did so. 

“If you would please just put your feet up in these stirrups,” he adjusted the metal legs below you, “then we can get started.” 

As you then shifted, settling your feet into place, your skirts tented and began to ride up, a gust of crisp air kissing your exposed centre and causing your cheeks to heat up.  

Hearing his chair scoot closer, you then felt his touch softly ghost from your knees all the way up your thighs till his fingers were gently prying your petals apart. After taking a good look, he then briefly retracted his touch, unscrewing a nearby dark glass jar, swiping up some of the glossy contents before grazing through your folds once more, the cool temperature of the lubrication causing you to suck in a sharp breath. 

“Sorry, if it’s a bit cold,” he murmured as he continued to smear it in. 

Head faintly shaking, “it’s fine,” you tried just to focus on your breathing. 

Pushing your dress a bit more out of the way, he told you, “just try and relax for me, it will go by a lot smoother if you relax,” his touch then suddenly changed, “now, tell me,” zeroing in and pressing down on your clit in a way that made the office around you go fuzzy, “how does that feel?” 

Blinking down at him, you found that his vision was already firm on you, “I-… I don’t know… how is it supposed to feel?”

“It’s supposed to feel good,” he rubbed a bit harder, “so, does it feel good?”

“I-I guess so,” your vision fluttered back up towards the ceiling, the doctor’s dark eyes being too much to stand, “yeah.”

“Good, good,” his attentive touch then shifted, “now let me just have a feel inside. Deep breath for me,” your lungs expanded at his command, “there you go,” and his long finger pressed inside, gently curving it around against your walls as he examined, “yep, there it is… your womb, it’s in the completely wrong spot,” he swiftly worked another digit in, watching as you stretched around his fingers, “it’s good that you came in now before it got even worse,” pulling back out, he ended the contact with an unnecessary rub against your buzzing clit.

As he then scooted a bulky and mysterious machine over, you asked nervously, “w-what is that?”

“Just a little apparatus that’s gonna help cure you,” he twisted a vaguely phallic shape into place at the end of the device’s long arm. After noticing your startled expression, you felt his warm hand sprawl across your thigh, “don’t worry, love. It’s all gonna be just fine,” lining it up, “just try and lay still,” he turned a switch and the attachment slowly drove into you. 

“Oh my god!” your palm slammed down against the exam table. 

“Shh, it’s alright,” he caught your eye till your body slowly began to give in, calming under his gaze. Reaching his right hand up, he tickled your puff as the gadget slowly eased in and out of you, “you’re doing great so far, just relax for me,” you saw his free fingers sneak down to enclose around the apparatus’s knob once more, turning the speed further up.  

Feeling like you might fall off the table entirely, you panted, “doctor, I think something might be wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong, love,” he nearly chuckled, “this is how it’s supposed to feel,” smiling as you let go an uncontainable moan, knees nearly closing as you tumbled over the edge, “there it is, good, good…”

Expecting for the machine to be shut off, the doctor instead pushed your trembling knees aside and conjured a bulky ward-like device that buzzed in his tight grip, the other hand firm on your leg as he pressed the vibrator against your sensitive pearl, “ah! Doctor! What are you-”

“We’re not done yet,” he stated firmly, vision fixated on the mess he was turning you into. 

The squelching of your pussy cut through the loud buzzing of the gizmos, “but it’s too much, I can’t-”

“You wanna get better, don’t you?”

Fists tight in your dress, crumbled at your waist, you let out a shaky, “yes.”

“Then quit your whining and let me treat you,” his stare snapped up as he warned you, “if you keep that up then I’ll have no other choice but to restrain you, is that what you want?”

“N-no,” the overwhelming sensation caused you to tremble like a leaf. 

“Be a good girl and take it.”

When the second wave hit, it crashed into you so fiercely that you let out a lewd scream. 

“There you go, that’s it!” the doctor bellowed as your pussy gushed, crying out around the intense toys, “oh, fuck…” unable to peel his eyes away as he finally turned off the machines, additional juices squirting out as they withdrew. 

Limbs twitching, you hazily asked, “was that it? Are we done?”

Palming himself through his pants, his gaze stayed glued to your weeping core, “not quite yet, miss… that release of excess fluids was a very good sign, very good sign indeed, but we’re not quite done… there’s still more that needs to get out in order for your uterus to align itself again,” your eyes then flicked down to his fingers as they worked at the buttons on his slacks, swiftly freeing something much bigger than the apparatus he had just fucked you with. 

“Doctor?” your eyes grew as he stepped closer, rubbing his tip against you in a way that made your eyes flutter. 

Finally meeting your gaze, he uttered, “please, call me Aleksander,” before thrusting his hips forward, stretching you apart with his cock. Fingers digging into your thighs, he glanced back down and smirked, “I think your womb just needs a little reminder of where its home is,” before he slammed in, all the way, pushing the air out of your lungs as his balls nuzzled against you.

“Ah!”

“Just need to knock at its door a bit to call it home,” the tip of his generous length kissed your cervix with every rough thrust, borderline going too deep as you clambered around him, “that’s it, taking the treatment so well.”

Just as you had thought he had settled on a rhythm, he pulled the rug out from under you by suddenly withdrawing his girth entirely, spreading you apart so that he could watch how he made you gape, only to bury himself completely once again, repeating the cycle over and over, relishing in the way it drove you up the wall. 

“Fucking hell… I can feel it, you’re getting close, clamping around me like a desperate little whore,” he groaned, watching as after a few more breath-taking rounds, your pussy began to weep once again, “oh, there it is,” squirting out every time he retraced himself, “atta girl,” the fullness he then granted you only persuaded more to appear. 

When you were nothing more than a literal puddle in his grasp, Aleksander truly lost control, pounding into your trembling mess before he made it even more so, stuffing you full of his hot cum. 

Low groans still flowed from his lips as he retracted from you for good, the sensation of his seed trickling out of you and onto the exam table nearly going unnoticed from how exhausted the treatment had made you. 

“Was that it?” you asked weakly, “am I cured now?”

Tugging himself away as he caught his breath, he answered, “not completely,” glancing back up at you with a glint in his dark eyes, “I think you’re gonna have to come back a few more times …”

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[hillbilly---man]

A list of the specific chronic illness/disability-related things in Saiki K that resonate with me personally

(Your mileage may vary, my experiences are not universal, I recognize that some of this is kind of a reach etc etc)

The limiters

Saiki’s powers have grown too strong for him to control, and before the creation of his limiters they were out of control and causing a lot of damage. Some examples cited include accidentally destroying his house in his sleep and having telepathy that reached all over Japan (something I imagine was many many times more distressing [disabling] than his current situation) The limiters weaken his psychic powers and keep them somewhat in check. It’s not perfect, and he still does have problems, but the situation is much worse without them.

This reminds me of the medication I take to keep my immune system under control. Before I started it, my immune system (thanks to MS) was causing lots of issues for me: it took the vision in my left eye, made it difficult to walk and use my arm for a few months, caused horrible leg spasms, et cetera. My medicine helps keep things in check and hopefully prevents future damage... But nothing is perfect. Of course, it’s a monthly shot instead of silly pink balls on my head! So that's a plus 👍

The way he struggles to control his body after Nendo removed his limiter unexpectedly

After being hit with a shock to his system at the sports festival, Saiki struggles harder than usual to control his strength. We see him frustrated with this as he’s eating, his hand trembling as he holds his chopsticks. He tries to power through, but the issues don’t resolve.

I’m fortunate to usually be pretty functional most days (I do have my bad days though lol). However, when I go through significant stress - either mental or physical - it makes a lot of issues pop up that usually don’t bother me. Balance issues, vision stuff.. And hand tremors. Like, I was at a sushi restaurant after getting overheated at the pride festival last year struggling a lil with my chopsticks laughing at myself like “this is just like Saiki at the sports festival…”

Developing new powers unexpectedly

A major source of stress for Saiki is being unpleasantly surprised by a new psychic ability. In the series, we see this a few times. The most notable to me is the time leap ability. He wakes up having accidentally traveled 20 years in the past (soon after it is revealed that his limiter has a defective part). Afterward, we learn when he’s stuck in the time loops with Nendo and Kaido that this time leap ability has been coming back randomly since then “As unexpected and frequent as getting the hiccups”. He spends the entire chapter trying to get control over this ability so he can continue his day as planned. In another chapter, his limiter is malfunctioning and he develops a series of useless powers that he cannot control. Clearly, the limiters are preventing new powers from developing (see my first bullet point!!)

So, another thing about conditions such as mine is that you really can just wake up one day and have some weird symptom you’ve never heard of before! I remember not long after my first big attack I was at Walmart and I just noticed that my index finger was completely numb, and it stayed that way for weeks. One time, my upper lip twitched constantly for like a month straight. Of course, more than just the relatively silly symptoms can and do pop up like that, too. For example, I had these really scary, uncontrollable spasms on my left side (paroxysmal kinesigenic dyskinesia) that happened several times a day for about a week. For a LONG time afterward I would be terrified of them coming back. It's still in the back of my mind but I'm not losing sleep over it anymore at least. Reading those panels above re: the time leap stuff reminds me a lot of that time!

Neuroplasticity and the power remover device

When Kusuke is explaining how the power remover works, he talks about how the brain rewires itself around damaged areas to compensate. The device is designed to more completely destroy the areas of his brain responsible for the psychic abilities. Of course, the device ultimately did not work permanently. The damage it did to his brain was quickly compensated for, and the abilities returned.

When small areas of the brain are damaged (such as… due to a neurodegenerative autoimmune condition), over time the brain can often restructure to work around it. It doesn’t mean that those areas are healed, and the process is often incomplete, but that rewiring can (completely or partially) restore abilities and function that was lost in the damage. They don’t say that explicitly in the series, but that’s surely what is happening to Saiki in the final chapters! Except, you know, in a magical shonen manga way.

Resistance to the idea of needing help

After Saiki uses the power remover device, he loses his abilities and is suddenly much weaker and less capable than he was before. He was used to being extremely independent, but this change has brought him to a place where he cannot do everything on his own anymore. In the library, he struggles to get a book off the top shelf and in the process is reminded of his new limitations. He says to himself “What am I doing…!? Just get used to it already!” After the bookcase is tipped over onto him and Nendo protects him, Saiki is upset about having to be protected when he never needed it before: “I’m so useless now…” Nendo helps him realize that getting help from others is normal.

Helping each other out is one of the most fundamentally important parts of being human, but it can be hard to accept that support sometimes. This is especially the case when you’re thinking about the prospect of needing more help than you used to. I'm fortunate to be relatively unaffected most of the time so far, but I'm still grateful for when the people I love are understanding and don't make a big deal out of it. I hate the idea of being burdensome so I'm just gonna cross my fingers and hope things don't get worse lol

Conclusion: Saiki is just like me for real and I'm DEFINITELY not projecting my own problems into him at all...

we're ignoring the 20k word fic I wrote where I blatantly projected my problems onto him for seven chapters

thanks @justmagicalgirl for encouraging me last week to post this 👍

[miffy-junot]

Napoleon is socially awkward, Junot and Marmont remedy the situation with whimsy.

Victorine de Chastenay, a fine girl and whom the old regime had trained her manners, as polite as they were skilful, used music in order to evade embarrassment. With her firm, chubby little hand, white, she opened the harpsichord, placed her fingers on the keys; and as Marmont, a loquacious boy, had just explained to the listeners that his companion was of Corsican origin, the young girl, in order to make herself better understood, began to sing in Italian in a very pure voice; then coquettishly, but with modesty, turning to her host, the canoness asked him, smiling, if her pronunciation was correct. The general, always severe, contented himself with replying that she was not, and then he relapsed into his silence; and all would have ended there in this encounter, if Junot, Bonaparte's aide-de-camp, had arrived at that moment.

He was "very noisy in his joy," says Madame de Chastenay, and as he was as turbulent, as gay as Bonaparte was gloomy and reserved, he threw himself through all this, breaking the ice. And it was he and Marmont who arranged impromptu for the next day, at the house of Chatelot, Marmont's parents' house, the feast which was to follow, and, for another day, the concert mixed with a ball and a walk.

At Châtelot, when the time came, everything was very close to going as well as Junot had expected. But throughout the meal, despite the excellence of the dishes, the spiciness of the local wines, further enhanced by the outbursts of his officers, General Bonaparte remained frozen. He does not say a kind word to anyone; only as he had placed in front of him Louis, his younger brother, future king of Holland, barely sixteen years old and whose education he supervised, he was content to pose problems to him, to teach him about algebra and logarithms. Without the good humour of Marmont, the bold, even Gallic verve of Junot, both of whom were absolutely devoted to Bonaparte and subject as slaves to his ascendancy, this meal, from which the guests promised themselves so much pleasure, would have remained insipid, the gloomiest and saddest one has ever seen. For her part, Victorine, in the various environments into which events had thrown her for ten years, had never witnessed anything like this. This coldness, this disdain left her humiliated, offended; so much haughtiness hurt her.

Then, suddenly, the idea came to her to solve this enigma, to know who this man was. Under this sober and dark uniform of a soldier who had fought in the war, was there a heart beating, similar to other hearts? This Bonaparte, with his muteness, his taciturnity, this kind of poorly concealed contempt with which he shrouded everyone who was neither scholar nor warrior in his eyes, who was he? They just got up from the table. With great skill, she approached him, managed to isolate him, then suddenly began to talk to him about Corsica. At first, he didn't break his silence. However, it seemed that this name, Corsica, had had a great effect on his soul. For a brief moment, and as if he had been particularly moved, he remained thoughtful; Madame de Chastenay, who observed him with attention, saw him turn pale and blush in turn; and all the impressions on this singular face, thin and hard, seemed brought to paroxysm. What Madame de Chastenay later remembered was that, in the Marmonts' living room, at the Chatelot, between the two windows overlooking the large garden, there was a marble console table. The general leaned against it, and suddenly, he who had not said a word for two days, spoke. He spoke for four hours, and it was like a torrent of fire!

[...]

In a hammered, brassy, ​​but vibrant voice, the general spoke; and the poorly contained Italian accent gave this voice a strange strength. Without Junot, who was tired of so much grandeur, so much heroism, and who came to play the fool, dance in the middle of the living room, finally give everyone a laugh, the little canoness of Epinal and the future general in chief of the army of Italy would have spent the whole night at the Châtelot philosophizing, and in a sparkling dialogue, pursued a hundred chimeras, stirred up and remade the world! Ultimately the success was very great for Victorine. “Everywhere,” she said, “people marveled at the fact that I had made the general speak.”

But the next day it was even better. With the officers, and a few young girls who had joined the Marmonts and the Chastenays, they danced in circles. Junot, like the day before, played the fool, accompanied by grand gestures, very comical as always, he sang his song: Mon berger ri est-il drole? They even played little games in which those who lost gave pledges. The general, who seemed completely tame, willingly indulged in this madness.

source

[lovelettersto-mars]

Carry on Countdown Day 3: AU

So I was tossing and turning and worrying about the prompt. I'd originally drawn snowbaz as Cait and Vi from Arcane, but I ended up hating it. Then I decided cowboys (again) and then I thought: @philaet0s . @/bazpitchesirlbf is my favorite fanfic of ALL TIME and philaetos is my favorite fic writer. I wanted to pay homage to them in the COC this year, and what better way to do that then do draw my favorite part of my favorite fic, and that's the Paroxysm Tour slip dress moment 😋

This is not the first or last piece of fanart I'll make for this fic mark my words soon I'm going to make one of the Hands Down performance (which... I have a FEELING is inspired by One Of Your Girls by Troye Sivan. Just a feeling tho 😁)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/57410821?view_adult=true

@carryon-countdown

I was also very picky about the tattoos I chose, for one thing in the Studies Series, Baz gets a tattoo of a snake, so I thought that would be a fun little addition. I also added what I hope look like hyacinths to his arm with a lyre (to symbolize the Greek myth of Apollo and Hyacinth, I can't tell you the exact fix that this myth was mentioned but I have a feeling it was)

Anyway I am entirely NOT sane about their work 😋

Also my phone camera is shit so please bare with me as I have to SPLIT up the art in two parts

[the-marigold-reception]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do Mordecai writing a love letter confessing his feelings to his love interest. I believe he wouldn’t be as poetic as Rocky, but since he is so into reading and talking with big words I do think it would be a little dramatic letter. Just a paroxysm of everything he may feel.

If you don’t like that idea, how about him as a secret admirer? (As you may have noticed, I am quite a big fan of love letters, lmao). How he would struggle to leave his letters without being seen and the way he would try to get his crush to say anything about it while not looking suspiciously involved.

Thank you very much. Your page is my favourite, so I hope you don’t mind taking one of my ideas.

To Whom It May Concern,

I have admired you for some time now, and I must confess my feelings. Your presence captivates me, and I find myself thinking of you incessantly. I harbor a deep affection for you that cannot remain unspoken any longer.

Yours Truly,

A Secret Admirer

It takes him a while to actually place the letter somewhere you’ll find it

He’s so nervous to be this vulnerable about his emotions

When he finally posts the letter into your letterbox, in the dead of night, fully decked out in black so no one- not even you would be unable to spot him

The next night he’ll come back and see the letter is gone- now he knows the waiting game is afoot

He won’t have to ask you if you’ve received any weird mail because you’ll come straight to him

(He’s very happy that you depend on him for help with simple things)

“Mordecai! I got this letter and I realllllly want to know who it is- can you help me draw up a systematic chart of likely to unlikely?”

The strong urge to tell you it’s him starts there

But he is flattered when you write his name down first out of anyone-

If you don’t figure it out after the first letter, he’ll send you another

To Whom It May Concern

It is with a trembling hand and an eager heart that I pen these words to you. The world around us is a tempest of change and noise, yet in your presence, I find a sanctuary of calm. The bustle of the city, the clamor of the jazz bands, all fade into a distant murmur when I am with you. It is as if time itself pauses, granting us a stolen moment of eternity.

How I wish I could express these feelings openly, but alas, the constraints of our world bind me to the shadows.

Yet, let this letter serve as a beacon of my affection, a silent testimony to the depths of my devotion. Until the day we can walk freely under the sun, I shall remain, faithfully and fervently,

Yours, in silence and in longing.

He’s a bit worried about what your reaction will be when you figure out it’s him

If you figure out it’s him-

You definitely know

You snuck into his office and checked the penmanship, the speech pattern was the same as Mordecai’s and he’d started to get increasingly nervous around you

One day a letter is slid under Mordecai’s office door whilst he’s working

To my Longing Admirer

Your letter found its way to my heart as surely as a sunbeam pierces through the morning mist. Your words, so tender and earnest, have stirred within me a curiosity and a longing I can scarcely describe.

It is with a blend of trepidation and exhilaration that I respond to your heartfelt confession. The sentiments you have shared resonate deeply with my own unspoken dreams and desires. Though the world may impose its boundaries upon us, I find myself yearning to transcend them, if only for a moment.

Might we dare to meet, and allow our hearts the luxury of true connection? If it pleases you, let us rendezvous at the Serendipity Tearoom on the corner of Elm and Rose, this Saturday at three o'clock. There, amidst the soft murmur of whispered secrets and the delicate clink of teacups, we may find solace in each other's company.

I shall be the one with a single gardenia, tucked gently in the folds of my dress. Until then, I remain,

Yours in hopeful anticipation,

An Enchanted Soul

[should I do a Part 2?]

[firelordsfirelady]

XIV. Paroxysmal of Anger

Author: @firelordsfirelady

Imagine: When Y/N—a princess of one of the Water Tribes—is told she’s leaving her tribe, she never expects that she’s to be betrothed to the Fire Lord’s son, nor was she prepared to be exiled the very day she arrived at the Fire Nation. With her life in the hands of her new fiancée, how will life change for the princess? 

Pairing: Zuko x F!Reader

Trigger warnings: arranged marriage, feelings of fear, banishment, mentions of burns/abuse, frustration, violence, betrayal, language

Word Count: 1824

Destined to be Yin and Yang 

I own no rights to Avatar the Last Airbender or any of the characters/story. 

Author’s Notes

The characters as all aged up so Zuko’s banishment happens when he’s 16 

Keep in mind I am bringing a unique world with inspiration from ATLA in their characters, some of the events that happen, bending, etc. Not many things may align or occur with what happened in the show. It’s intended that way, so I hope you enjoy it regardless.

See Y/N’s inspiration here. 

Destined to be Yin and Yang Soundtrack (YouTube)

A few days later, the weather outside was much warmer than the frigid air of the Water tribe, so I was happily barefoot on the deck of the boat as I wore my lighter water tribe dress. I was mindlessly practicing my bending on the deck when Zuko approached me. Guiding the small strand of water, Zuko was briefly surrounded by dancing water stream before I let the stream return back home to the sea around us. I smiled as I turned around to look at the Prince. He wore a short-sleeved black top that showed off his caramel skin and made him look like a badass.

“I will never tire of weather as beautiful as this.” I walked closer to Zuko before I asked, “Are you ready for me to finally win?” Zuko’s cocky grin made my heart race as I focused on the battle ahead.

I dodged the fireball Zuko threw at me before I used a wave of ice to slide towards him before swiping my leg to try and knock the firebender off of his feet. Anticipating my move, Zuko countered me by grabbing my ankle and sliding me the opposite way on my ice. He quickly let off three fireballs my way. I rolled to avoid the first one then put up an ice shield that provided enough protection for me to stand up and ninja-roll into a standing position and fire a ball of water to put out the other fireball.

I summoned a tornado of water and centered it around Zuko. Gracefully dancing around the tornado, my limbs flowed in the air like the element I was born to bend as Zuko rushed out of the water devil. I twirled in a low circle as the water tornado changed into wave crashing into Zuko and knocking him over then I froze him in place. I was focusing on the ice hold when Iroh loud tea slurping sounded in my ear. Letting out a yelp, I lost concentration on my hold of Zuko and fell on my butt. I flicked the hair that had fallen over my face back where it belonged then brushed myself off before I stood up.

“Lesson learned--” I said after connecting with the ground again as Zuko leg swiped me and straddled me as his hand wrapped around my throat. “Don’t get distracted.” Zuko smiled victoriously for a moment before I cockily smiled at him.

“You really do like this position huh?” Zuko’s eyes widened at my brash comment and his grip faltered, which gave me the opportunity to buck my hips upwards. Throwing Zuko offbalance, I quickly grabbed his wrists as I flipped us over and straddled him before leaning down to whisper in his ear.

“I like this one better.” The intoxicating smell of rainwater and moss overwhelmed my senses, and I struggled slightly to keep my words even. Smiling victoriously as I leaned back and stood up. “I say I won this one.” I offered my hand to help the Firebender off of the group. With a face as red as a tomato, he accepted my hand to help him stand up.

“I definitely won that one.” Zuko said as he smoothed down his shirt. “I had you on the ground first.”

“I technically had you on the ground until Iroh worked on your behalf.” I smirked as Zuko rolled his eyes at me. “Can’t you just let me have this one victory?”

“No.” I rolled my eyes and sighed dramatically.

“Men and their fragile egos.” I said as I placed the back of my hand slightly against my forehead before I leaned slightly to one side. “How do they survive anything?” I laughed at myself as I straightened up and looked at Iroh who had a huge grin on his face as he looked at Zuko and me.

“Look at the two of you getting along so well.” Iroh beamed, and Zuko immediately froze beside me as he shook his head.

“She is to be my wife.” Zuko said in an even tone despite the blush on his face as he avoided looking at me. “It is my duty to get along with her.”

For some odd reason, the way Zuko said that hurt my heart, but I put a smile on my lips.

“Why don’t the two of you join me for dinner this evening?” Iroh never stopped beaming as he looked between us. “I heard the chef’s have gotten a fresh catch from the local fishery.” I bowed to the older firebender in appreciation.

“I’d love to.” I smiled as I straightened then excused myself to go bathe and change.

A few hours later, I was seated around a large wooden table with Iroh sitting across from me and Zuko to my right. The conversation was light in the room as we all spoke of how the day had been and other casual conversation. A light knock on the door sounded, and several Fire Nation members walked in to deliver a plate of fish to the three of us.

“Thank you, Shisam,” I said with a smile as the fish was placed down in front of me. “How was the fishery?” Shisam gave me a soft smile back before he bowed. 

“The fishery was the fishery,” He said lightly, and I let out a small chuckle. “But I did hear that the Avatar is on Kyoshi Island.” The sound of a fork hitting a plate sounded as the words came out of the crew member’s mouth, and I didn’t need to look to know the fork belonged to Zuko.

“Set course for Kyoshi’s Island right away, and ready the rhinos.” Zuko stood up and began to walk away from the table as his long robes flowed behind him. 

“Are you going to finish the fish?” Iroh asked, stopping Zuko mid stride. 

“I was going to finish it later.” Zuko said as he grabbed his plate of fish and left. I chuckled at Iroh’s disappointment before sliding my plate over to him. 

“You can have mine.” I gave the older man a smile. “I want to join them this time.” Iroh frowned at me.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” His face twisted in concern. “It will not be pretty. Zuko is liable to burn the entire village down to get the Avatar.”

“I won’t lie and say that I think it’s the best idea, but I have a feeling it’s important for me to go.” Iroh nodded in agreement.

“You may be right in that, but I also worry because the Kyoshi warriors are exceptional at fighting.” I nodded as I heard Iroh’s concern in his voice.

“Perhaps I shall see if Zuko needs me.” I bowed to Iroh, who smiled at me.

“Whether the Prince admits it or not, he does need you.” Iroh's soft words were spoken as I reached the threshold of the door, but I didn’t say anything as I walked away. I slowly walked towards Zuko’s room, but the man himself came rushing out of his room dressed in a warrior’s uniform. I had just opened my mouth to speak when he started talking.

“You are to stay on the boat.” Zuko ordered as I fell in stride with him as he made haste towards the deck. “I do not need anyone getting in my way of capturing the Avatar.” I frowned at his words. 

“I am—“

“That’s an order.” Zuko turned to look at me as he practically growled, and I narrowed my eyes as I stepped into his personal space.

“I am your fiancée,” I said in a low growl back. “I do—“

“You are a waterbender that my father decided to place by my side,” Zuko’s voice was angry as he turned around to face me as we arrived on deck, and it drew the attention of the crew. “The only thing you’re good at is being a training partner.” My heart seized in my chest as I narrowed my eyes and clenched my fists. 

“The only thing you’re good at is being an asshole.” My words were low enough so only Zuko could hear them. “You are so caught up in catching the Avatar that—“

“Maybe I’ve been playing into your fantasies for too long.” Zuko’s shout made the world stop around me. “You are nothing short of a distraction and—“ The sound of my palm connecting with Zuko’s cheek was enough to send me over the edge.

“Perhaps it was me who was playing into your fantasies, Prince Zuko.” His formal title came out of my mouth like it left a bitter taste on my tongue as I seethe in anger. 

“You are nothing more than a lost Prince trying to earn his daddy’s respect.” I no longer whispered the words, and I gave no care to whoever was listening. I saw only red as I looked at the Prince, who was now staring at me in shock. “You want the respect of a man who has never ever given a shit about you and has only sought to destroy who you are.” Shaking in rage, I continued.

“But if you want to call one of the few people aboard this ship who actually believes in you a distraction,” I narrowed my eyes as tears blurred my visions. “Then you have truly lost your damn mind.” Turning on my heel, I saw a blurry vision of Iroh as I walked away from the Prince. “I hope you get your fucking Avatar.” I yelled as I opened the door to the cabins and walked inside before tears fell down my face and I quietly added, “Maybe then I’ll actually mean something to you.”

I paid no mind as the boat started moving again within an hour, nor did I pay any mind to the knock on my door shortly afterwards. The pencil in my hand worked on the sketch on the paper in front of me, and I didn’t answer as another knock, louder than the first, sounded on my door.

“Y/N,” Zuko’s voice sounded from the other side of the door. “Open the door.” I rolled my eyes and ignored him as I continued to draw the picture of a waterbender. A couple of minutes passed of silence before Zuko knocked again. I practically growled as I put the pencil down and flung open the door to see the shocked expression on Zuko’s face. Without saying anything to him, I slammed the door in his face.

“Consider your order followed.” I growled through the door as I sat back down in my chair. Seconds passed before Zuko’s footsteps moved away from the door and I heard his door across the hall close. The organ responsible for my heartbeat felt dead as I crossed my arms across my chest. 

Zuko’s words earlier had hurt me deeply, and I was too hurt to talk to him right now.

Tag List @chevysstuffs @puttyly @ginger24880 @night-fall-moon @junieshohoho @0kauy @coolgirl458 @hypnoticbeing @angelruinz @preeyansha @playboygeniusphilanthropist @ssonniiu  @chi-ara @hagridshaircare @stell404  @kyo-kyo1 @herondale-lightworm @simonsbluee @nadlx33333 @nerdisthenewcool @jewelsrules @soggycrout0n

[rita-repulsa-ke]

a tentative peace

"You can't run from Death forever, Agatha."

"You know, when other people say that, they're generally just revealing themselves to be weak cowards, willing to accept being the toy of higher powers. And then there's you, my obsessed stalker."

"It's still true. When they say it, when I say it. Death comes for everyone in the end."

"The end?! Try every other day! I'd love to see Death the way other mortals do, exactly one time. Instead, I have to deal with you popping up every time I turn my head."

"You love seeing me. You love me. You adore me."

"Ha! I want to never, ever see your face again. But you know what, Rio? I'd settle for this. When I die, you can come and get me. Until then, I'd like to stop running from Death. I'd like to be able to do other things, without my psychopathic ex-girlfriend showing up every few days to try and ruin my life."

"Hey, you admitted I'm your girlfriend."

"Ex!"

"That's still something, for you. You know I'm not going anywhere, Agatha. I'll be with you forever."

"Then I can and I will run forever, if I have to."

"You were going to anyway. You were always afraid of what I am. That was part of the thrill, wasn't it?"

"Yes, Rio, I was always going to run from Death. The difference now is that I want to run from you."

"…Ags…"

"What? We can still fix this? I still love you? Or is this one of those days when you get fed up and try to kill me? We both know you can't! It isn't my time, it would be a defiance of the natural order, that concept you love more than you ever loved me—"

"I gave you more than I have ever given—"

"You gave me nothing!"

"…Maybe today is one of those days when I try to kill you."

"Good. Suits me."

"…"

"Well? Come on then. You can at least get a few good hits in and maybe so can I. I've been working on a new spell—"

"Tell me about it?"

"About the spell I'm going to use to try and cause you paroxysms of anguish?"

"Yes. Did you invent it?"

"Yes—well, technically no, it's modified from a tome by one of the older Sorcerer Supremes, but the way she wrote was so incomprehensible that it's like the way people used to write recipes, no measurements, more of a guide than anything, so I had to adapt quite heavily and then it's meant to work on spirits, not whatever you are, but I think I've got a version that should be generally applicable to all supernatural—hey. Aren't we supposed to be fighting to the near-death?"

"I like listening to you talk about it, though."

"…Ugh. Gross."

"I mean, do we have to?"

"Have to what?"

"Fight today. Can't you just finish telling me about your spell of unbelievable agony and then get distracted by realizing there's a way to do it better or differently, like you always do?"

"…I do not always do that."

"No. Only most of the time."

"…Fine. Just this once, though. I don't want this to become a habit. And only because it is a really interesting spell."

"…You're going to try it on me when you think I'm not paying attention, aren't you?"

"Probably. I mean, what's the point of having invented it if I don't get to try it out?"

"All right. I'll even let you. But you have to sit down and finish telling me about it first."

"It's not really fun if you let me."

"I'll pretend to act shocked by your sudden, completely unexpected betrayal?"

"Are you any good at acting?"

"I'm great at it. I act human all the time."

"Yes, but you're terrible at that."

"What?!"

"When was the last time you took a breath?"

"…Oh. I forgot again. I can't believe you all have to do that constantly."

"You see what I mean?"

"Well, if you time it right, I really will be surprised to suddenly go from pleasant conversation to—not yet!"

"No? But you were just getting lulled into a false sense of security."

"Too early. Your timings all wrong."

"It isn't and you know it. You just don't want this to end."

"…I don't. A little more? Please?"

"Sure. Where was I? The Sorcerer Supreme's instructions. So I took the general guidelines of what she'd written, which was a really interesting treatise on torturing spirits, she was not one of the nicer people to hold that position and—spiritus coruscent!"

"Oh look, betrayal."

"…That isn't hurting you, huh?"

"Doesn't seem to be. Very pretty effect, though. All these little sparkles."

"Where did I go wrong…"

"Hey, Agatha."

"Mm?"

"You know what does hurt?"

"What? Oh, yes, I see, you have a knife. Very original."

"It gets the point across. …Get it?"

"…I'm sorry every day that I ever taught you what a pun was."

"You're about to be sorry for more than that."

"Wait, wait, wait!"

"Why?"

"…Help me diagnose what went wrong with the spell first?"

"The agony-inducing spell?"

"That's the one."

"So you can make sure it induces agony on me next time?"

"Yes—hey, there's no need for that! I have organs there!"

"You'll heal. I promise. It isn't your time, remember?"

"But consider—if you help me fix the spell, you get to sit around and watch me tinker with magic instead of us trying to kill each other. Wouldn't that be better?"

"…Okay."

"Good. Great. That's settled then. And no one even had to get stabbed."

"You know you're such a coward when you're losing?"

"What makes you think I'm losing?"

"…what?"

"Nothing. Now, going back to first principles—"

Go read the Ritual of the Rose, now up to Chapter 3, for more Agatha/Rio ex-girlfriend shenanigans or The Present for something angstier

[comewhatmayy]

KINKTOBER DAY 17- SQUIRTING (ENJOLRAS)

You sat together on the couch, watching the sunset through the large windows of Enjolras's apartment. The evening was quiet, the only sound the gentle hum of the city outside.

You had spent the day exploring the city together, laughing and talking, and now you were just enjoying each other's company.

He reached out, his hand brushing against yours, sending a spark of electricity through your body. You looked over at him, his eyes locked on yours, and you felt a flutter in your chest. He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours, and you felt a rush of desire.

He pulled back, a mischievous glint in his eye, and said "I want to try something new with you."

He got up and walked over to a nearby bookshelf, pulling out a small leather-bound book. He opened it, revealing a collection of erotic illustrations, and smiled at you.

"I've always wanted to try this," he said, his voice low and husky.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against your skin, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. He pulled you to your feet, his lips claiming yours in a passionate kiss.

He walked you backwards, his hands on your hips, until you were pressed against the couch.

He broke the kiss, his eyes locked on yours, and said, “Are you ready?"

You nodded, your heart racing with anticipation.

He reached down, his fingers parting your legs, and you felt a rush of moisture.

Enjolras's eyes darkened with desire as you kissed him, your bodies pressing together with burning intensity.

His hands roamed your curves, memorizing every tantalizing swell and dip, as he slowly lowered you onto the couch, covering your form with his own. His kisses trailed down your neck, teeth grazing delicate skin, eliciting a shiver of pleasure from you.

His delicate fingers deftly undid buttons and zippers, discarding clothing until hot skin met hot skin.

Enjolras paused, gazing down at you with unabashed hunger, his chest heaving. "You are intoxicating," he growled, voice thick with lust, before claiming your lips in a searing kiss once more.

His hips rocked against yours, the friction igniting a fire deep within. Slowly, reverently, his hands glided along your inner thighs, parting you, as he positioned himself at your slick entrance.

With a sharp exhale, he sank into you, stretching and filling you deliciously. Your back arched, a strangled moan escaping your lips, as wave after wave of blissful sensation washed over you.

Enjolras's pace quickened, his hips pistoning in and out of you with a primal intensity, his eyes locked on yours with a fierce and unbridled passion.

Your moans grew louder, more urgent, as the tension between you built to a fever pitch. His fingers dug into your skin, holding you in place as he thrust deeper, harder, the friction building to a crescendo.

Your body began to tremble, your muscles contracting with a desperate, all-consuming need. Enjolras's eyes flashed with triumph, his lips curling into a fierce, savage smile.

"Let go, chérie," he whispered, his voice a low, husky growl. "Let go and give in to it."

Your body seemed to shatter, releasing a torrent of pleasure that threatened to consume you whole.

Your eyes went wide, your mouth open in a silent scream, as a gush of liquid erupted from you, a soundless "squirting" as your body convulsed in a paroxysm of pleasure.

“Enjolras,” you moan embarrassingly.

Your body shuddered as waves of exquisite ecstasy washed over you, a torrent of pleasure erupting from your most intimate parts.

Enjolras's eyes gleamed with triumph as he watched you come completely undone beneath him, his hips still rocking against yours in a relentless rhythm.

"Chérie," he growled, his voice thick with lust. "You are magnificent."

He bent down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that stole your breath away.

His hands caressed your trembling form, his touch igniting sparks of sensation that lingered long after he pulled away.

Gazing into your eyes, he murmured, "I want to see you come apart for me again and again."

Enjolras's response was immediate and all-consuming, his lips devouring yours with a hunger that left you breathless.

His tongue danced with yours, the kiss deepening into a frenzy of passion and desire.

His hands roamed your curves, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulled you closer, his body pressing against yours in a tight, unyielding hold. The world around you melted away, leaving only the two of you, lost in a sea of desire.

Enjolras's hips still rocked against yours, the friction igniting sparks of pleasure that threatened to consume you whole.

He broke the kiss, his eyes blazing with intensity as he whispered, "I'm not done with you yet, chérie."

And with that, he pulled out, and with a swift, fluid motion, he turned you around, his hands grasping your hips as he drove into you from behind, the sound of your body meeting his a primal, animalistic cry that echoed through the room.

“Mm, Enjolras, monsieur,” you moan.

Enjolras's breath was ragged, his voice strained with unbridled lust as he heard your desperate moans.

"Chérie, you feel exquisite," he growled, his grip on your hips tightening as he drove into you relentlessly.

"So tight, so wet..." His words trailed off into a guttural groan as the sensation of being sheathed inside you overwhelmed his senses.

Every thrust was a delicious friction that threatened to unravel him, your bodies moving together in a primal, age-old rhythm.

His hand slid up your back, tangling in your hair as he pulled you closer, his lips trailing heated kisses along the curve of your neck.

You were his, utterly and completely, and he intended to make you sing with pleasure until you were delirious with it.

“I… I,” you moan.

Enjolras's grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your skin as he sensed the approaching storm.

"Let go, chérie," he whispered urgently, his voice a low, husky growl. "I want to see you come apart for me again."

His thrusts grew more erratic, more intense, as he rode the wave of your pleasure, his own desire surging in tandem.

Your body tensed, your muscles locking down in anticipation, and then you were over the edge, a scream of pleasure tearing from your lips as a second gush of liquid erupted from you, a soundless squirting that left you shuddering and helpless.

Your body convulsed in rupture as the second release of pleasure crashed over you, a gushing fountainstone of liquid that drenched us both.

Enjolras's eyes burned with primal triumph as he watched you come apart beneath him, his hips still driving into you with relentless fervor.

You were his, utterly and completely, and he would not be satisfied until he had wrung every last tremor of bliss from your quivering form.

"Magnificent," he growled, swooping down to capture your lips in a searing kiss that swallowed your cries.

His hands roamed your body, caressing and exploring, as he sought to push you even higher, to shatter you into a million pieces of ecstasy.

"More," he demanded, his voice rough with lust. "I want to hear you scream my name."

“God, Enjolras,” you cry.

Enjolras's kiss deepened, his tongue probing the depths of your mouth as he reveled in your surrender.

His hips continued to drive into you with unrelenting passion, each thrust a deliberate, calculated attempt to push you further into the abyss of pleasure.

Your cries were music to his ears, a symphony of desire that only served to fuel his own hunger.

He felt himself building towards a shattering climax, his body coiled and tense, ready to unleash a torrent of release that would consume us both.

"Yes, chérie," he whispered, his voice a low, husky growl. "Let go. Lose yourself in me."

“Please, Monsieur,” you moan as you climax.

Enjolras's control snapped like a brittle twig, his entire being consumed by a primal, all-encompassing need.

With a guttural groan, he surrendered to the torrent of his own release, his hips slamming into you in a frenzied rhythm as wave after wave of ecstasy wracked his body.

His grip on you was bruising, desperate, as if he feared you might slip away. Your cries of pleasure mingled with his own, creating a symphony of unbridled passion that echoed through the room.

In that moment, there was nothing else - no revolution, no ideals, no world beyond the two of you locked in this all-consuming embrace.

All that mattered was the liquid fire coursing through his veins, the exquisite tension unraveling with each shattering thrust.

And when the final aftershocks had subsided, he collapsed against you, his forehead pressed to yours, utterly spent and yet somehow more alive than he had ever been.

“You are exquisite, Enjolras,” you breathlessly whisper.

Enjolras's chest heaved with exertion as he lay against you, his breath ragged and his body still trembling with the aftershocks of his release.

His eyes, those piercing blue windows to his soul, locked onto yours, burning with a deep and abiding passion.

"You are the spark that ignites the flame, chérie," he whispered, his voice low and husky, filled with a quiet reverence. "You are the fire that burns within me, the only thing that can quench the thirst of my soul."

He paused, his gaze drinking in the sight of you, his body entwined with yours in a tangled, post-coital sprawl.

"I am forever changed by you," he murmured, his voice barely audible, but filled with a deep and abiding sincerity. "You have awakened a part of me that I thought was long dead, a part of me that I thought I could never feel again."

His eyes searched yours, seeking something - a connection, an understanding, a promise.

"Do not ever let me go, chérie," he whispered, his voice a low and urgent plea. "I am forever yours."

Enjolras's strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as you lay entangled together amidst the damp sheets.

Your heartbeats gradually slowed, your ragged breathing evening out, as the last tremors of your shared ecstasy subsided.

He tenderly brushed a stray lock of hair from your face, his fingers tracing the delicate contours of your features with a reverence that belied his usual unyielding intensity.

"You are the most captivating woman I have ever known," he murmured, his voice soft and tinged with wonder.

"In your arms, I have found a peace that eludes me elsewhere. You have become the sanctuary I never knew I needed." Enjolras pressed a feather-light kiss to your brow, his eyes shining with an emotion that bordered on vulnerability.

"I confess, I am utterly beguiled by you, chérie. You have awakened a part of me that I thought long dormant, a capacity for feeling that I had believed myself incapable of."

He trailed his fingers down your arm, his touch featherlight and almost worshipful. "Tell me, my love, what have you done to me?"

“I have only surrendered myself to you completely. That is all I have done,” you say breathlessly.

Enjolras's eyes burned with an inner fire as he gazed into yours, his chest expanding with a deep, all-consuming emotion.

His lips curled into a tender smile, and he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as if he feared you might vanish into thin air.

"Ah, chérie," he whispered, his voice barely audible, but filled with a profound gratitude.

"You have given me the greatest gift of all - your complete and utter surrender. In return, I promise you that I will cherish and adore you, body and soul, for all the days of my life." He pulled back, his eyes searching yours with a deep intensity.

"I will be your safe haven, your sanctuary, your home. I will love and protect you with every fiber of my being, and I will never let you go." Enjolras's voice broke, his words tumbling out in a passionate, heartfelt declaration.

He caresses her face softly, "Je t'aime, chérie. I love you, now and forever."