#Test muse: Velvet

[talesofourworlds]

@thosetaleskids liked for a test muse starter (Velvet!)

The group ultimately had agreed to remain in the area around Merchio to train. Get some last minute additional strength before going to make the journey to try and put an end to things with Artorius and Innominat. The Lord of Calamity couldn't afford to look weak when she went to end the precious Shepherd once and for all.

It took some searching around the snows of Merchio, and much complaining from Magilou the whole while, but eventually they found something. Velvet led the charge against a particularly strong looking daemon. Rokurou sounded convinced it was a code red daemon, and with how strong it looked? She wouldn't have been surprised at all if it was. The thing looked like a weird cluster of crystals. Surely it couldn't have been that sturdy, Velvet thought as she'd lashed out with a Rising Falcon, but when her arte connected it felt like the arte didn't even connect the way she thought it would.

Golden eyes grew wide. What the hell was this thing made of? Velvet could only say in the air so long before having to land, and she landed right at the wrong time. The daemon launched its attack, some kind of blast of energy, that knocked her back where she'd come from. Pain coursed through the therion woman's body and, despite her efforts to keep from doing so, a cry escaped her as she landed in the snow. She lifted her head to see the others trying to land hits on the thing, too. Everything seemed to just bounce right off of it. Was it taking any damage at all?

"Dammit, this isn't working!" Eizen's voice rose over the others. "We can't win this, Velvet!"

Velvet grit her teeth. Phi... where was Phi? She didn't immediately see him, but she hoped he had the sense to stay back and cast his artes from a safe distance. Rokurou seemed to be suffering the same fate as she had moments before. Magilou also was met with a blast, interrupting her attempted Final Embrace, and Eleanor? No better off than Rokurou.

"Dammit!" Velvet grit her teeth and forced herself to stand. Rokurou wasn't going to like this, but... what choice did they have? They were going to get wiped out if they kept trying to fight this thing. "Retreat for-"

Another blast struck Velvet from behind. Again, she couldn't stop herself from giving in to the pain. The idle thought floated through her mind as she was knocked into the snow again. How nice would it have been if what she'd lost when she became a therion was her ability to feel pain?

Oh well. No sense in thinking about it when she was laying there, grimacing and trying to force herself to stand again. She felt like she had to struggle just to do that much. Still, Velvet had to make herself speak. If the others could get away, that was good enough. She'd figure something out.

"Run!" Velvet finally yelled the order. Magilou already was doing so, only glancing back for a moment before doing so. Eleanor was next, and she saw Eizen dragging Rokurou away. Phi...

Finally, she saw him.

"Phi, run! I'll catch up!" Somehow. Forget the pain and move. That was what she was trying to make herself do. So why was it so damn hard to move? Had that daemon paralyzed her with that arte?

[empirelead]

Kuvira DIDN'T LOOK BACK when Zaofu finally disappeared from view , hidden from the world ; hiding away behind large mountains that stood above all those who came crossing the land. The city finally furled to once more to cower from what she now sees as the truth —— the Earth Kingdom is in dire trouble and the only person who could lead its children has betrayed them all. The bitter taste on the very tip of her tongue was foul , swallowing down the lump that formed in her throat before she could ever allow her emotions to get the best of her. IT IS WHAT SUYIN WOULD WANT , to have her feel the tinge of regret of leaving of the only place that has welcomed her ( the very place that has now banished her ) but she will not falter and will not fall. The anger burned deep within her chest , thankful that the others were all wise enough to leave her be. She will return one day and will make sure Suyin regrets of crossing her.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I wanna see what’s Ace’s family’s reaction when they found out Ace is dating reader Heheheh

I decided to have only Ace's brother present, since Mr. and Mrs. Trappola have yet to receive strong characterization.

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

The Trappola brothers sat across from one another upon red velvet chairs, and you, between them. They were both intently focused on building a house of playing cards—a task that Ace had warned took “serious patience, coordination, and a gentle touch.” (You had rolled your eyes and responded, ���Great. You let me know when you’ve found someone that has all that.”)

Ace carefully laid a Two of Spades down, formed a triangle with a Three of Clubs and a Four of Diamonds. His hand slowly retreated, and the triangle stayed. He expelled a sigh, directed away from the cards so as to not disturb them.

You would have clapped for him, but Ace had discouraged you before the game had even started. So instead, you tapped your index and middle fingers together. Still giving applause, but not nearly enough to rattle the house of cards.

“Your move.”

“Huh, you’ve gotten better at this,” his brother mused. He toyed with an Ace of Hearts, expertly twirling it between dexterous fingers. “Too bad. I was really looking forward to smoking you in front of your new friend.”

“In your dreams,” Ace sneered, passing you a glance. “The last thing I’d want is to look uncool in front of my partner.”

His brother drew himself up in his seat. The card in his hand, stilling. “Your partner? Since when were you two a thing?”

“Oh, you know… since a while ago,” Ace casually replied. “And honestly, I can’t really blame’m. Who wouldn’t fall for my dashing good looks and roguish charm? I’m a catch!”

His brother regarded you with an almost pitying look. “It’s not too late to change your mind,” he advised.

You burst into laughter. "I think I'm good. Ace is an idiot, but he's at least my idiot."

He raised an eyebrow. "So you've got a sense of humor. You'll need that if you're going to put up with Ace all of the time. Congrats, you passed the first test."

"Whaddya mean 'put up with' me?!" Ace protested, puffing up his cheeks. A pout--adorable, you think.

"I mean it exactly how I said it. It's practically a full-time job dealing with you," his brother replied cheekily. "You gotta prepare people for it, or else they won't know what they've signed up for."

"Oh, come on! You're making me sound way worse than I actually am."

"This, coming from the guy who ghosted his ex?" He smirked, and you could see the family resemblance in it. The slight narrowing of the eyes, the way his mouth angled. "I dunno, I was half expecting you to stay single forever after that royal screw-up, lil' bro. You're lucky you found someone willing to take you~"

Pink exploded onto Ace's cheeks. "H-Hey...!" he hissed, leaning toward his brother. "Did you seriously have to bring that up?! Have a little more tact, will ya?!"

The older Trappola grinned. "Gotcha."

You realized why.

Ace's sudden movement had sent a slight breeze against the card house. It wobbled from top to bottom--then the structure collapsed in on itself, the cards all folding into one another. Within seconds, the house was a pile on the coffee table.

Ace fell to his knees with a pathetic wail, scrambling to salvage his hard work. His brother looked on, chuckling. A card, still in his hand.

"I didn't place mine yet," he declared triumphantly, "and since you made the house fall, it's technically my win!"

"Y-You sneaky...! You taunted me on purpose!!"

"Yeah, and it worked like a charm." He flicked Ace on the forehead. "You were too busy trying to flex in front of your S/O. It was easy to take advantage of that. You always were a cocky, predictable brat."

"Grrrrr..!!"

"Ace, it's fine," you soothed him, a hand on his arm. "You did your best. It doesn't change how I feel about you."

"Tch, there you go being all sappy again... You're so lame sometimes," Ace grumbled--but he covered your hand with his. A small gesture, but a reassuring one.

"Hahah, look at you two lovebirds," his brother teased, wagging a finger at you. Then he reached out and roughly ruffled Ace's hair, despite his complaints and attempts to swat him away. "Happy for you though, lil' bro! You gotta tell me how this love story started--"

[romanticoms]

plug in baby

title inspo plug in baby by muse (i worship this song, has nothing to do with the fic i just love it.. 🤤)

18+ MDNI / fem!reader x bf!leon, voyeurism(?), oral (f receiving), p in v, praising, mild breeding kink, petnames (baby, good girl)

a/n: oh my god.. i have no idea what got to me, not proofread cuz i woke up at 3 in the morn to write this (crazy fuckin' coincidence, i know)

oh yeah another note: this was from months back (nearly a year) so do what you must with this info and hold low expectations i guess !

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒─────⭒─⭑──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

It's 3 am, you know you shouldn't be awake now, let alone bother your boyfriend— for your needs; but fuck, you could feel yourself soaking in arousal. You knew you were too bothered and tired to take care of it, you'd just rest your thighs tightly together, creating some form of friction to ease yourself. Leon wasn't a heavy sleeper, he'd jolt up over the sound of a pin drop and such. You watched him closely, on one hand you were getting off to his bare body in his peaceful slumber, on the other you were keeping an eye out, a part of you hoped he would wake up.

Before you knew it, you slid your own hand under the band of your shorts, another caressing your breast, letting out faint mewls as you fucked yourself. Ultimately you thought nothing was better than this, your moans brought Leon out of his peaceful sleep, his eyes fluttered open before his gaze met yours, then your needy body. "Fuck, can't just leave me out of this," His voice was groggy as he spoke. Leon waited for your approval, he pulled you closer upon watching you nod a couple of times, affirming your consent. Both hands tugged on the sides of your shorts before sliding them right off. "So fucking wet, huh?" He slurred. Your body was splayed over the sheets, your hands gripped either sides of your pillow while his fingers curled inside you, leaving you with almost no time to reply. His fingers fucked your insides ruthlessly as your body was forced to lie still, "L-Leon, 'm gonna cum," you whined. "Fuck, can't get you doing that yet, sweetheart— not after you woke me up like that." He teased as he pulled his fingers back, "Open up for me, baby." You complied immediately, letting his two fingers that were laced with your slick to be cleaned up by your mouth.

He brought his hand back to your thighs as he rested his face right near your soaking pussy, spreading your legs even wider as he pressed kisses across your cunt. "'M gonna fuck'er nice, baby," He slurred before flicking his tongue across your insides, nosed on your clit as he watched you squirm, one hand gripped your wrist while the other rested on your thigh. You were once again in that very high, so close to your orgasm, and it was more than apparent. "Not yet, sweetheart." He tested once again before continuously pressing pecks on your clit before they turned sloppy, getting much more than a taste each and every time he savoured your pussy. "Leon, please, y'can't keep—" You pleaded, he still refused to give you what you wanted.

His face turned back after a strip of saliva lead from your pussy all the way to your breasts, his tongue flicked on your sensitive bud as the other had been fiddled and squeezed by his hand. He continued sucking on your tits before pulling back, making a pop noise as he did. He'd been breaking you with his endless teasing, fully aware you wanted more, which he'd eventually give you. You watched, breathless as he slapped his cock, throbbing, pre dripped from the tip before sliding it right through your entrance, your slick had coated more than enough, your arousal flared as he began thrusting through your velvet walls. "S'fucking tight, g'nna breed this tight pussy," He slurred while hovering over to your neck, placing sloppy kisses over and over throughout one part of your neck while he fucked you raw.

"Leon, can't.." You whimpered, "Of course you can," He darted back at you, spanking your ass red once or twice after raising your legs to rest over his shoulders all while mercilessly rutting against you. "P-please, 'm gonna cum.." You were at your final plea, adding a slight strain to your voice to show him your desperation to cum. "Yeah? 'M g'nna cum too, baby. C'mon, take it." He picked his pace up, groaning as he felt your nails scratch his back while he arched over you. "Fuck, take it." Both of your bodies shot up at once, feeling your high together as he relentlessly thrusted into you, strings of cum filled your insides as your orgasm came washing over.

"Knew you could, s'cha good girl for me," He pressed a chaste kiss over your forehead before pulling out, cum dripped from your cunt, his finger stopped the trail before fingering it back into you. "Don't waste a single drop of it, you asked for this." His honeyed voice now rough and assertive. Your body dropped back as you came down from your high.

[moonstone-vibe]

SUNSET

Hello everyone! Here's another shortfic based on a Tumblr prompt from @starsmadeinheaven . My muse likes these short things as of late and even though I've made a series on AO3, it seems they're kinda too short so I'll be posting here mainly.

“I wonder, am I truly safe here?” Carriedo asked with a casual tilt of head.

He was standing by the large stone window, seemingly contemplating the bustling crowd in the street below. There was sun in his hair, tinting his dark curls and glowing onto his tanned skin. Dressed like a mere merchant save for the crimson ribbon holding his locks into a long, loose ponytail, he looked clean, and proper and honest – everything he was not.

Lovino crossed his arms, only half-facing him, his back turned at the lively view. “It is a public library,” he said flatly.

If anything, he was good at being stern, and looking the part too. He may not have had quite his father and his brother’s head for business, but he certainly had the stomach and the steely resolve to deal with what they would not. So here he was, straight-backed, all black velvet with no adornments save for an austere silver cross around his neck.

“I don’t know if I should trust that you won’t pull out a dagger and gut me, even in front of all these honest men,” the Spaniard shrugged. “In all my life I’ve met many dangerous fellows, and I daresay dealt with them. You, signor Vargas, must be one of the worst. You know, I saw you in church the other day, with your family. You… appeared like a very pious, innocent young man, but I have seen that you are a fiend.”

Was this godawful pirate trying to aggravate him? Lovino could guess what the man was saying - that he was in truth nothing like his family. Not kind, not cheerful, not a patron of arts, not inclined to beauty and good spirit. Only, he knew that to face the world one needed not cheer and birdsong, but grit and a touch of ruthlessness.

“Your servants are still alive.”

Carriedo laughed, and he was much too beautiful when he did, his smile too bright, his eyes too gemlike in the dwindling rays. Lovino inhaled sharply, making an effort to hold his gaze and not to visibly swallow the knot in his throat.

“Your quarrel wasn’t with them, after all. You knew they were only there to test your skill. Anyway… what are you really going to do about it?” he asked, motioning towards the ledgers open onto the nearby table. “Your family tried to cheat me out of a lot of money, how do you plan to sort it out? My merchandise-”

“But it wasn’t your merchandise, was it?” Lovino hissed, leaning forward. With the corner of his eye, he spied some curious glances coming their way and did his best to keep his composure and his voice in check.

“But I got my hands on it,” the pirate pointed, keeping his voice low in turn. “And once I get my hands on something, it’s mine.”

Lovino did not want to think of that. Or of the man’s hands.

He turned around at last and glanced in the distance, over the low rooftops, to where the water was visible in the distance. It was interesting, how the sky became suddenly green and the sea a weird shade of pink, glinting faintly under the setting sun.

“Mr. Carriedo, as fearsome as you might be out there, amidst the high seas, in this city you don’t have much leverage and you know it. My father is not considering paying the full price, absolutely not. But we could facilitate an expansion of your distribution channel. Maybe. But if you insist on a compensation-”

“You will compensate me.”

Lovino blinked, opening his mouth to state the contrary, but his wrist was captured without warning and he was pulled towards the other. His reflexes kicked in, all his muscles suddenly taut at the danger, and the hidden blade slipped from his sleeve and into his grasp, being pointed at Carriedo’s throat in the blink of an eye.

“Dios mio, qualquier hombre perdia su cabesa por ti…” the Spaniard murmured, his green eyes shining with mirth.

The bastard!

“You don’t seem that scared though,” Lovino observed dryly, tilting the blade a little closer.

Carriedo continued to hold the wrist of his free hand, doing nothing to avert the dagger nearly touching his collar. The grip of his fingers was light, almost gentle, even as he pressed his thumb into the younger’s pulse point.

“Surely not as scared as you are. You asked me here, where you thought you’d be safe with so much people around, and you still came armed to the teeth. You have more of these, don’t you? And yet, no matter how much steel, it’s not enough.”

Damn him! His words poured, like honeyed wine, drowning Lovino in his own vulnerability. Much too soft, much too sweet.

“Of what?! Of you, signor Carriedo?” he almost spat through gritted teeth, lifting his chin.

The Spaniard’s smile only softened further. “Of yourself. Of who you really might be beyond all this darkness – a man who wants to live, to take even one free breath, not a mad hellhound to be unleashed upon the enemy at his master’s convenience, distained and getting but meagre scraps off the table.”

Lovino blinked, his mouth impossibly dry, his lips pressed much too tightly, barely drawing enough air. His hand only fisted around the handle of the dagger, struggling to keep it steady in the onslaught of pure anger. Only, he was something else entirely beyond the darkness, and wondered with fright whether this wretched man could glimpse it too, and bring about his absolute ruin.

“You don’t know anything-”

“What do I not know? Your father could have sent one of those ordinary assassins for this job, since he has no real desire to negotiate. I have killed many men, I have plunged my blade into their flesh with no qualms whatsoever, he knows it too well and he still sent you.”

Lovino forced a deep breath and the corners of his mouth into a grin. “If you harm me here, all the compensation you can expect will be a noose around your neck. And if you know me so well, then you can imagine that a mad hellhound like me has no taste for crafty words!”

With that, he lowered the dagger and yanked himself free from the pirate’s grasp. He became aware that some of the people around had been staring at them rather pointedly and he sighed, annoyed.

Carriedo pulled back in turn, crossing his arms and bowing his head. “Lovino, of course I will not harm you here. But your father is a thief, so he will either pay me or he’d better hire an entire army, lest I harm him and his whole family, elsewhere.” When he looked up, his eyes were suddenly sharp and predatory. “Two million.”

“That is four times what we-…!”

Lovino looked away, out the window, at the darkening horizon. Clouds gathering, tinged purple. Foolishly, he wasn’t afraid anymore. Not of a fight, whatever the outcome.

“We are gentlemen, after all. If you still have a grievance, despite what we offered, the two of us could duel.”

He knew it wasn’t much of an offer but his father was stubborn, and much too bold for his own good. ‘I am not a gentleman, and I will kill you’ he expected the other to say, but Carriedo just picked up his ledgers and collected them to his chest calmly, entirely unhurried.

“Tell your father to pay me the two million, signor Vargas,” he said serenely. “And quickly, before they become four. Oh, and-…” he stopped in front of Lovino and leaned in, his nose nearly brushing the younger’s ear. “It would have been only one if you hadn’t drawn the knife on me, querido.”

[caramialunaestelle]

@fatexbound || Liked for a Test Muse Starter! (Elizabeth)

"I have heard many great things about experiencing live music," Elizabeth announced after she'd finished rewarding her beloved velvet room guest with supplies and resources. They'd done a great job finishing off that month's requests she'd made, gathering the various items and reaching various checkpoints in Tartarus. She deemed it right to only request he take her out on a little adventure.

"I'd like to experience it myself," she continued. "I have heard that occasionally the Escapade club hires live musicians to provide the music for dancing? My next request is for you to take me to see one of these live shows!"

Elizabeth did not know when this next show might be. It could be tonight, or it could be six months from now. Either way, the request had been made and if they found time in that busy schedule of theirs, perhaps Makoto would gladly fulfil her request. He seemed to have no issue fulfilling her other requests.

[shmowder]

So I've been loving your other reader stuff and wanted to discuss expanding the x reader universe with some Stamatins.

I have this one idea, please consider, reader accidently seducing Peter, which causes Andrey to fall hard for reader as well (since I doubt he could ever really love someone who doesn't also love his brother.)

Specifically, I have this scene haunting me, and I'd love to see you expand upon it.

Peter and Reader are at his loft where he's doing figure drawings/painting of Reader. But instead of it being just some sexually charged thing, it's super comfortable. They're laughing and joking with each other. Peter keeps getting distracted bouncing ideas around the room. It's this genuinely sweet and tender moment.

Meanwhile, Andrey is also around watching this all go down. And he's seen muses come and go. Usually, it's pretty or interesting things that catch Peter's eye and are gone just as quickly. But this one is so very different. Genuinely engaging with Peter's ideas. Not some lovesick puppy or someone living in a fantasy. Just a person enjoying spending time with another person.

Hope that was at all coherent? Feel free to get weird. Sfw and nsfw interpretations are valid

Aword

[Fluff, Romance, referenced sexual topics/Alcohol/drugs, Falling in love, Devotion, Codependency, GN reader]

[Andrey/Reader, Peter/Reader, Polyamory]

In which Andrey Stamatin attempts to understand his younger twin's enamoration with you and how it might have started.

Only for him to helplessly fall a victim to your smile.

Andrey Stamatin can recall the exact number of times he has seen a smile on his brother's face in the past year. his fingers were more than enough to count them on; the number kept dwindling with each cycle around the sun.

The seasons would come and go, yet neither of them would blink an eye. Downing a full bottle barely burns the back of Andrey's throat anymore, the smoke rarely stings his lungs, the adrenaline flooding his brain from taking another's life scarcely lasts more than a second.

Peter's smile, however, the chime of his laughter, could feed Andrey's starved soul for centuries. Paint the greys of his world in velvet crimsons and royal blues, gold-like yellows, and sunset bright oranges.

Drugs could only go so far, after all. Various stimulants were sampled and put to the test, yet not a single one managed to match a fraction of the euphoric bliss he gets from seeing his brother gleaming with happiness.

Currently, the source of Peter's unusual fits of passion was laying in an empty bathtub, fully clothed. The same empty bathtub his brother tended to use as a makeshift bed.

Peter always had the most unusual ideas whenever he found himself in a creative rut, attempting to overcome the art block by any means necessary.

Andrey was nothing if not overly indulgent of his brother's fleeting whims.

Not to mention with the very short amount of time Andrey spent inside their shared house, Peter could just easily use his brother's untouched bed whenever the neck pain from sleeping on an oversized ceramic bowl grew too cumbersome. Or so Andrey assumed, he hasn't really checked on his supposed personal room in a long time, he can't even recall what colour the walls were painted with, let alone what type of sheets were laid upon his bed collecting dust by now.

Just how exactly did you weasel your way into Peter's life from under Andrey's nose? The older twin can't help but wonder at times.

Did the two of you meet in one of Peter's bi-monthly trips to stand in front of his beloved paper wooden daughter and simply stare? No. Andrey makes sure to accompany his brother during those trips to the polyhedron.

Maybe it was something absurdly mundane, like in a grocery store or a trip to the tailor? Unlikely, Peter's food is delivered to his front door, and he would rather set his whole wardrobe on fire than wear something touched by amateur hands when it came to sewing.

Andrey witnessed it before when their maid in the Capital sent one of his brother's favourite shirts to be repaired in some no-name tailoring store. Coming home that day to his brother sitting on the front steps of their burning house, grumbling about how the winds keep swaying the flames and messing up the shadows as he sketched the scene of the crime on the few unburnt papers he grabbed on his way out.

It doesn't matter how.

The voices of chatter fill the usually quiet room, light conversations flowing seemingly between you, the art subject, and his brother sitting on a stool nearby, the painter attempting to immortalise your beauty on a canvas.

Because no matter how this miracle happened, Andrey will do anything in his power to make sure it doesn't slip away from Peter's fingers, from his own fingers.

The sunlight phasing through the apartment's window reflected mesmerizingly against your skin, the gentle smile on your face only making you appear more radiant. Andrey's eyes could barely look away from the ethereal view amidst the mundane messy room, from the way your fingers ever so delicately traced against the rim of the bathtub, temptation tugging his heart forward by its strings.

Your air of comfort was infectious, Peter's fingers gliding against the canvas with the brush as he noted every single detail he saw, each colour documenting every feeling passing through his soul.

getting up from the comfortable armchair, Andrey walked over to the middle of the room where the main event was taking place. Resting his chin above his brother's shoulder to take a better look at the painting, the other acknowledged him with a proud look as if to show off his magnum opus.

Peter's put great details in the way the light reflected off of your eyes. The way your body was positioned looked almost an invitation for onlooker to step inside the oil painting and bury themselves into your chest and tuck their their bodies safely inside your heart for eternity.

He could almost feel your lips against his own just by looking at this piece of art.

What did they taste like? a sweet cherry ripened to perfection? A fresh minty finish from your toothpaste? A rich bitter aftertaste from your morning coffee?

Or did you prefer milk? Would his tongue taste a hint of the creamy flavour if he traced the insides of your mouth with it?

Or maybe you had more bite to your bark and a sharp iron taste would overwhelm his senses as your teeth dug into his lips while his fingers tightened around your neck enough to leave a shadow of discoloration behind.

His biggest mistake was turning his head around to face the real thing. The real view of you laying back with such a relaxed expression despite being in a room with the two most dangerous men in town was more than taunting in his eyes, it was basically a personal offence to carry such a bright smile carelessly in his presence knowing what he is capable of.

Whatever Andrey desired, Peter would overdose on until he developed an addiction. From the first sip of alcohol from a stolen bottle he shared with his brother, to the last person who warmed Andrey's bed only to end up in his brother's for the week.

Andrey would get something, and his younger twin would wordlessly copy him. Andrey would find someone, and Peter would borrow them from time to time.

A silent agreement between the two to always share, that's how it always worked.

Up until now.

Somehow, it was Peter who found you first. Somehow, you've been living under a rock away from Andrey's eyes and reach. A hidden gem that he didn't get to first, despite turning every rock and poking into every crevice in this forsaken town.

Is it jealousy that he's feeling? Is it the burning of envy's green flames suffocating his lungs? Andrey was always the man at the centre of everyone's envy. It will never be the other way around. He rejects those feelings belonging to lesser men, never someone of his status.

No. This is something different, something much deeper. He is above petty envy; he lets Eva roam freely and never looks twice at whose life Maria's ending with a kiss this week.

Or was it simply different because Peter was involved this time around?

Because this isn't mere sex, you're not a stray from a one night stand Peter's taken pity on.

Andrey's not even sure his brother even bedded you yet. The smell of sex simply wasn't in the air, and he would know since Peter never opens the windows to air the room out.

What exactly was your relationship?

The two of you joked and laughed like long-lost friends, knew just how much to push and when to pull back. It wasn't the intense passion of sinful lust burning in his brother's eyes but the budding hope of a lotus blooming after a fresh morning rain.

You've even tried to include him, to infect him with your warmth, reel him in with your innocent smile. You probably weren't even aware of how tantalising you looked with your pure friendly act.

The worst kind of sirens in Andrey's eyes were the ones who weren't aware of their temptations yet. Those ones posed a real danger to his sanity, a real threat to his addictive personality.

Pulling his body away from leaning against his brother, Andrey walked over to you, staring you down as his legs stood uncomfortably close to where your head laid, almost boxing you in.

You didn't look nervous. You weren't the slightest bit intimidated by his towering presence. As if all his muscles were for show, as if his hands, which took lives too easily, couldn't touch you if they tried.

It was suffocating, your heavy presence. The power you held despite literally laying down beneath him, staring up with wide innocent eyes. It made him want to puke his poisoned heart out. It made him want to kneel before you and seek redemption for his sins. It made him want to fall asleep in your embrace.

It made him want you beyond bodily desires, beyond sex and beyond a mere muse to burn in order to fuel his creations.

But he'd never utter those words, for there is no need to. His brother perfectly understood him from just one look, Peter practically guessed what's going on in Andrey's mind during any given moment of the day.

Yet the word for what you are hasn't been invented yet into this world, linguists didn't stumble upon it, scholars never felt it.

How lucky they are to stumble upon a glowing ember of another miracle practically begging to be added to their list of ever growing resume of achievements. A creation in the making.

They did it once with a tower, it's about time they tried it on a living breathing human being.

Andrey leans closer to gaze down upon your eyes, upon his latest invention, still a newborn in its prototype days.

For now, a muse is what you shall be called.

Until the day comes when the whole world learns a word fit enough to name you by. A word both of him and Peter will piece together letter by letter.

[2x4swrites]

an unfinished Aragorn/Boromir fic. muse fizzled out and I have other writing projects to worry about, but I’m happy enough with it that I’ll post it as-is.

light D/s + rope bondage, Aragorn taking care of Boromir

It is not the first time they have found themselves in this situation.

The first time had been a welcome surprise; Aragorn experimentally pushed boundaries and was delighted when Boromir met him, albeit with some defiance. These moments began as a temporary balm for frayed nerves and dark thoughts, grounding Boromir in the moment as Aragorn play-acted King.

Aragorn had worried, but in the end it was enough. Boromir frightened Frodo, but did not harm him.

He was injured, but he survived.

Aragorn knew he wasn’t ready to hear such things at the time, but he was proud of Boromir.

Legolas and Gimli went ahead to pursue Merry and Pippin; Aragorn remained with Boromir, moving slowly but steadily after them. Aragorn will sing his thanks eternally that Boromir did not worsen his injuries as they travelled.

In the end, Frodo triumphed, and now they were here.

In Minas Tirith, in the king’s chambers. Aragorn prepares everything carefully. He builds a fire, humming to himself as the room warms. He positions his chair before the fireplace, then neatly folds a blanket and places it beside the chair. It is as he finishes changing from his royal garb into a more simple tunic and soft velvet gilet that the door bursts open. Aragorn huffs out a soft laugh; he can hear Boromir’s rancor fade as soon as he takes in the scene before him, muttered curses dying on his steward’s lips.

Aragorn turns, smiling gently and extending a hand towards Boromir. “It has been some time and you are overburdened, uiveleth.”

“…Aye.” Boromir takes Aragorn’s hand, a shiver running through him.

“Will you ready yourself for me?”

“I will.” Boromir nods. Aragorn lifts his hand, pressing a kiss to Boromir’s knuckles before moving to lock the door to his chambers. They have few hard rules for times such as these, and Boromir’s own preparations will dictate the tone. He is unsurprised to find Boromir has left his trousers on; his steward often feels pleasure is a reward he is undeserving of.

Boromir kneels on the prepared blanket, cushioned against the hard floor. Aragorn takes a moment to study him, drinking in the half-bare form of his lover and most trusted aide as he considers what Boromir most needs. He is struck with love for this jewel of a man, testing the waters by lightly cupping Boromir’s cheek. Boromir sags into the gentle touch and Aragorn’s course is decided.

He steps away only long enough to grab a length of elven rope, kneeling before Boromir to work. Deft fingers begin to build a harness— raph cirion, starting with two loops about the wrists before drawing the arms against the chest and wrapping around the torso. Aragorn is well familiar with the harness, the sensation not unlike a tight hug. By the time he’s finished, Boromir’s eyes have closed, expression utterly unguarded.

Aragorn presses a gentle kiss to Boromir’s brow before he stands, sitting down in the chair beside his steward and gently guiding Boromir’s cheek to rest against his leg. Boromir exhales, nuzzling against Aragorn’s knee as his king begins to card his fingers through Boromir’s hair. With his free hand, Aragorn lifts the book he’d left resting on the arm of the wooden chair and begins to read.

Of course, he doesn’t expect to get particularly far in his book. He gently scratches the base of Boromir’s skull, watching with a slight smile as Boromir melts into the steady touch. It gladdens him, that he’s able to offer Boromir such respite.

“You have done so well for me.” Aragorn praises, smile widening as Boromir lets out a pleased hum. It had taken much work before Boromir would readily accept such praise from his king. “I raw ‘lórin nín. How lucky I am to have you by my side.”

“…Yours.” Boromir’s voice is a low rumble; the pad of Aragorn’s thumb affectionately strokes the base of Boromir’s jaw.

“Aye, mine. I’d like you closer, I think.” Aragorn says with a hum. He stills Boromir’s restless shifting with a light tug of his hair, a gentle correction. “I will take care of you tonight, gûr nín.”

There is a subtle clench of Boromir’s jaw, but it eases the moment his king’s fingers brush over the curve of his cheekbone. It still was not easy for Boromir to accept his king’s care, though he had become less stubborn over time. Aragorn does not mind overmuch; Boromir’s stubbornness was part of the reason he’d fallen for the man.

He sets his book aside and rises, holding Boromir’s elbow and helping him to his feet. Boromir sways slightly, unsteady, as Aragorn moves the blanket in front of his chair. Once he sits back down, Boromir sinks to his knees between Aragorn’s legs and immediately presses his cheek to Aragorn’s inner thigh with a blissful sigh. Eyes closed, he does not see Aragorn’s grin, but he can hear it in his king’s voice.

“Much better, now I can see your beautiful face.”

Boromir snorts, cracking an eye open to fix Aragorn with a disbelieving look as long fingers resume smoothing through his hair. Aragorn affectionately brushes his foot against Boromir’s calf as he smiles. The adoration in his eyes leaves Boromir warm, flushed down to his chest as he noses against Aragorn’s thigh. He’d never been able to stand that look for long, brilliant as the sun and all for him.

“You are lovely. Eventually you’ll believe me when I tell you.” Aragorn chuckles, cupping Boromir’s cheek for a moment. “Mîr gelair en edain. I vîr nín, uiveleth. Ci dhail athan ilegol.” [Shining jewel of men. My jewel, eternal-love. You are more lovely than all else.]

“Yours.” Boromir repeats, half-kissing the cloth of Aragorn’s trousers. Aragorn tucks a lock of his hair back, tracing the shell of Boromir’s ear.

“Forever and always.” Aragorn nods, voice soft and full of love. Such adoration, such grace, pouring forth from Aragorn’s heart— and for him. When he is aware of himself, Boromir oft wonders how he could possibly deserve it; as he is now, he can do little but bask in it, his king’s adoration gentling his restless mind. Aragorn knew from the first, he lives to serve. Boromir had never expected to be served in turn, always assuming he was destined to a life beyond himself, his own pleasure an afterthought.

His very being, an afterthought. Body, mind, and soul to be given in service of something greater.

Aragorn was a caring lord, however, and could read Boromir like an open book. At times, it was still uncanny. Boromir can only feel gratitude for it, now, as Aragorn bends forward and draws him up to capture his lips in a kiss.

Lips trail from the corner of his mouth to his jaw, his throat— Aragorn nips at his collarbone before sinking his teeth into the flesh of Boromir’s broad shoulder. Boromir could not stop the moan that escapes him if he tried, a shiver coursing through him as Aragorn lays his claim. Another bite follows and Boromir gasps, body going lax.

“Perhaps this will help remind you exactly how important you are to me. You are indispensable, my steward. You need not work yourself to the bone.” Aragorn’s fingers trace the pale skin between the ropes crossing his back and Boromir trembles.

“…My king.” Boromir starts, in that low tone that tells Aragorn he is struggling not to argue. Aragorn smiles softly, drawing Boromir fully into his lap, his arms wrapped snugly around his bound steward to support him. He nuzzles his cheek against Boromir’s, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

“Would you prefer I punish you for your stubbornness?”

Boromir lets out a soft, pleased hum at the scratch of Aragorn’s beard. He doesn’t reply; Aragorn laces his fingers through Boromir’s hair and tugs his head back, kissing the delicate stretch of his throat.

“Boromir.” he warns, “I will not punish you undeservedly.”

“Strider…” Boromir bares his teeth in a sneer, aiming to push buttons.

“Hush.” Aragorn releases his grip on Boromir’s hair, soothingly carding through the hair at the nape of Boromir’s neck, scratching gently. “I suspect my kindness is punishment enough.”

Boromir whines, and Aragorn knows he is right. Some small yet vocal part of Boromir’s mind still insists that Aragorn is degrading himself. That he is not worthy enough to be loved by the king. He hefts Boromir up with a grunt, carrying him the few short steps to their bed before laying him down. He watches as Boromir stretches out his legs with an instinctive hum. Boromir is truly captivating, the fine ropes binding his arms to his chest serving to highlight the fluid shift of his muscles. After a silent moment, Aragorn slides a hand over Boromir’s clothed thigh, squeezing.

“I will not punish you undeservedly, simply because you think you will dirty me.” Aragorn catches the lace on Boromir’s trousers with his teeth, tugging them open. Boromir whines beneath him, squirming slightly. “That is the truth of it, isn’t it? Some part of you is still convinced you are not worthy.”

He gently pushes off Boromir’s trousers, pressing a kiss to his stomach just beside the pretty curve of Boromir’s half-hard cock. “I will not touch you here unless you ask me to. Understand?”

Boromir nods, panting softly through his nose. He watches as Aragorn moves to retrieve more of the silken elvish rope; with deft fingers, Aragorn begins to bind Boromir’s calf to his thigh. Another favorite tie, loeth e-deleg; the carefully-wound rope frames Boromir’s legs beautifully. Aragorn’s hands stroke pale skin as he carefully checks his knots and adjusts the tension. Boromir shudders, exhaling through his nose as he slowly goes lax. Aragorn can’t help but smirk, pressing a kiss to Boromir’s knee— it amazes him sometimes, just how much tension Boromir could carry, how easily he wound himself up.

Once both legs are bound, Boromir’s breathing has slowed and his cock grown fully erect, curved beautifully and resting against his belly. Much as he longs to, Aragorn does not touch. He stands where Boromir can see him, undressing and laying his clothes neatly aside.

“Beautiful…” Boromir breathes, once Aragorn stands bare before him, squirming slightly against the ropes restraining him. Aragorn flashes him a warm smile, ducking his head

“You flatter me, uiveleth. You are the most gorgeous of all to my eyes.” he says, joining Boromir on the bed. Bound as he is, Boromir can do little but comply with Aragorn’s maneuvering. He draws his steward close, until they are skin to skin, Boromir straddling Aragorn’s thigh, his cheek on Aragorn’s shoulder.

Aragorn’s fingers trace the gaps between the ropes, brushing teasingly over pale skin. “I will only touch you if you ask. You may rut against me to find your pleasure, if you are too stubborn to use your words. Either way, you must dirty me— I welcome it.”

Boromir sets his jaw, stubborn, nose buried against Aragorn’s throat. Aragorn chuckles, pressing a kiss to soft, blond hair.

“…Even if you are correct in your assumption that I am degrading myself, is it so implausible that I would choose to do so? Can you truly see no world where I would willingly bring myself to your level, simply to love you? Do you know what you do to me?” deft fingers tease the cleft of Boromir’s ass and Boromir instinctively presses into the touch, cock dragging against Aragorn’s hip. He lets out a shuddering breath, staying stubbornly silent.

—

Loeth e-deleg (spiral of the leg)

Raph cirion (fisherman’s harness)

[talesofourworlds]

Okay, I think it's time for some test muses. Just to see how I like writing them before I add them to the blog for real.

Genis!

Moses! (Plus Giet!)

Elize! (Plus Teepo!)

And...

Velvet!

Yeah, I decided against Spada, Shigure, and Mao for the time being. Maybe in the future, though!

So anyway! If you want a test muse starter, hit the like button I guess! Or shoot an ask at one of them.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Light of This World | Ch.2

When you awoke in the comfortable embrace of those same silken sheets you frantically cradled your hand to your chest. The same one that just hours ago—if they even count by those—stuck into a giant cube of molten rock. Even with the confirmation that you were their beloved Light, it didn’t change the shaking fear that clung to you still. A people that condoned abduction, and causing physical harm to their abductee in search for a being they weren’t even sure existed. Registering lightly padded steps and the muffled musings of the servants in white from behind the door gilded in golden accents and velvet textures. Your body kept still in a curled position, refusing to acknowledge the recent presence of Rowana’s High Priestess; the Light’s beloved guide.

“(Y/n)? Are you…doing okay?”

Peering over the foot of your bed she tried to meet your eyes through the transparent curtain and failed. For you kept your eyelids shut, tucking your head as far into the plush pristine pillows that you could. You refused! Refused to concede to the one who sprung this on you so suddenly! The one who sat silently behind as the gaggle of faceless worshippers and fanatics were willing to burn away your hand despite their protests. 

“(Y/n)--I–I am really sorry about all this…I’m sorry all I can really do is just stand there…”

The sight of her brown eyes flashing sympathy and pain when you called to her. The spiteful gaze pointed at those wearing white disappearing as fast as they came. The glassy eyes pleaded with you to forgive her as she reached to you once more. Her pink lips quivered and her rapid blinking spoke volumes to you as you sat up in the bed.

“P-please (Y/n)! Forgive me!”

______________________________________________________

You let the shivering hands of those in white button your pearl-white tunic. A minor compromise for having dressed with only Brie present. The moment the final button was done you shooed them away letting Brie dismiss them as she walked slightly ahead of you guiding you from the solace of the bedroom through the golden hallways of the castle. 

She walked so elegantly. Her feet stepped parallel to one another and her hands folded in front of her. You attempted to mirror her only for her to shoot a look of disdain, as though she wanted to slap your hands apart. Taking the message to heart, you released your hands balling your hands into fists keeping them at your sides. You flashed a look of pride only to be met with her exasperated shaking her head. If it weren’t for her necessity to be stone-like she would have no doubt brought a disappointed pointer and thumb to pinch at her nose. 

She halted the entourage and you at the arrival of what she deemed your personal throne. And for a personal throne room, it was quite extravagant. The floor was shiny black marble that had white and golden streaks that led up to the golden accent stairs to the golden throne. The throne itself was large, padded and surrounded by white and black pillows. A blanket was folded neatly in place enticing you to finally test how comfortable this throne. The rest of the room was a mixture of gold and black coloring pillars that held up high vaulted ceiling that that featured a single light, synonymous with a miniature sun–a bright burning ball seemed to glow at the center piece of the chandelier. There was one window, or there should have been but it looked as though the space was filled in with an opaque brick covered by a golden velvet curtain. It was extravagant. 

It almost happened to outstand the creature waiting stiffly at the steps of the cushioned throne. 

“My Light, this is your head Head Captain: General Minks. The highest in command for you and Rowana’s safety.”

The creature bowing before you was like none you’d met before. Dressed in a fitted white uniform fashioned with a red sash tucked into a sword-holding belt—he no doubt had the look of a general. But the clothes had nothing to their wearer. He was of moderate height with purple skin and pointed ears. The scleras of his eyes were black and his irises a ruby amber, seemingly glowing as they followed you. They were slightly shrouded by indigo-colored bangs which stemmed from a head of violet and pink strands that reached down his back. In short, he was other-worldly.

As Brie had instructed you, you only lightly bowed your head before offering your hand into his waiting purple one. Your resisted the urge to pull away when soft lips fully grazed against your hand. You tried to keep a straight face as Brie sighed and loudly began to cough in hopes of drawing the general’s attention from you.

“General. Minks. If. You. Please?!”

He groaned leaning his head back and rolling his eyes. He turned to stare directly into your eyes again, watching you fluster as he brings your knuckles to his kiss again.

“It truly is a pleasure to be of service to you my Light, I am General Minks.”

“N-nice to meet you. Uhm and a–likewise?”

You frantically looked to Brie for approval who shrugged and circled her hand. Lighting up with remembrance of the protocol, you brought your hand in front of you feeling the way his touch lingered as you pulled away. With your head held high you moved past him, stepping up those marble steps to the throne, working to keep your own enjoyment hidden as you settled into the throne. 

At the elevated vantage you could see the entirety of those in your private throne room the servants practically drooling huddled at the foot of the steps and the guards with obsidian armor and steel accents posted at both gilded entrances one of which you entered in. General Minks stood wiith an unknown glint in his eyes on the second step.

Brie stood near your left side, bending slightly to lean near your ear. 

“If your wondering he’s an elder demon contracted to a previous Light. I wouldn’t trust him as far as I can throw him!”

You shot her a questioning look so she continued.

“He just does whatever he wants! He usually doesn’t even spend time training his army–”

“Well perhaps that’s because he never had a Light to protect!”

Brie sneered at the interloper, who had somehow appeared at your other shoulder, without you even noticing, to playfully whisper his own defense.

“Ugh! That has nothing with you being an insufferable rat-demon!” 

“And that your majesty is what’d you’d call discrimination.”

“Its true to his character! So many of the followers we carefully vet and filter during the hiring process get their souls harvested with no compensation!”

“Didn’t they put you through the wringer your majesty? It should be okay if some of them should…retire early.”

“Uhhhhh?”

“Don’t expect them to condone your murderous tendencies!”

The two continued to bicker bordering on playful teasing and accusations of high treason. You sighed leaning back into your seat to let the arguing on either side of you. You were glad there were pillows it was going to be a long day…

[lgcmanager]

TEAM UNKNOWN 004

SCHEDULE TYPE: TRIMESTER ( PART 2 OUT OF 2 ) SCHEDULE RESTRICTIONS: cannot be paired with another trimester schedule, unless stated otherwise. for reference as to whether your muse is eligible for this event, please click over HERE.

on MAY 13, the trainees in TEAM UNKNOWN were reunited with JANG INSUNG. “the other coaches and i are in the process of compiling our feedback but based on the task we have given you a while back, YOUNGJAE and i agreed that for the next couple of weeks all of you will be working on an area that many of you have listed as one of your weaker areas; CREATIVITY. we know that it’s a busy time for all of you with NOSTALGIA happening as well, so let’s get straight to what your next part of the evaluations will entail.”

SOLO PERFORMANCE #1

the trainees will be given files to five songs, which are listed below:

BAR BAR BAR – CRAYON POP

HANDS UP – CHERRY BULLET

ONE OF THESE NIGHTS – RED VELVET

SECRET – WJSN

SUGAR FREE – T-ARA

after the trainees are given a chance to listen to short segments of the songs, INSUNG explains, “for the latter half all of you will be expected to give two performances. the first one is to assess your CREATIVE skills. out of the five songs that you’ve listened to, each of you will tell me privately after this meeting which song you will be choosing for the first performance. with the song selected, all of you will be assigned to a coach who will help you make that song into a version that best suits you. on the day of the evaluation, you will be expected to perform that song.”

as mentioned, since each of the trainees will be transforming their chosen song into a style that best suits them, this means that the trainees will be working on MUSIC COMPOSITION, LYRIC COMPOSITION, INSTRUMENT(S), and/or CHOREOGRAPHY ( POP/HIP HOP/STREET, CLASSICAL, OTHER ). ic they will be spending the first few weeks working on all aspects to understand the fundamentals, but for the rest of the weeks they will concentrate more on the skill(s) that they want to showcase the most in the performance. for muses who have LESS THAN 50 points in any or all of the skills mentioned, they will be guided by a coach. while the coach and their producing team will do a part of the work to form a creative and cohesive performance, the trainee will be expected to give their input on various areas ( eg. musical arrangement and style, instruments used, lyrics ( if adjusted/modified/included for the rappers ), choreography ).

in addition, any muses who have AT LEAST OR MORE THAN 50 points in the creative skills will be given more creative control in aspects where they have over 50 points ( eg. if someone has over 50 points in choreography [ either style ], they will be given the opportunity to create their own choreography instead of letting a coach do it ). due to their busy schedules and allotted time, the performances will be shortened to last around 2 minutes each.

SOLO PERFORMANCE #2

“as for your second performance, since some of you have been attending the language workshops, we thought it was best to put it to the test to see how much some of you have learned.” INSUNG smiled before explaining in detail the second performance.

all of the trainees will be asked to perform a song in ENGLISH or JAPANESE of their choosing. as for the rules, here are some points to consider when selecting the song:

the song must be released before JANUARY 1, 2022 unless it is a song released by a legacy artist/group. for reference on the songs released by lgc groups ( minus the senior artists ), you can click over here ( LGC GIRLS DISCOGRAPHY / LGC BOYS DISCOGRAPHY ).

for trainees who have less than 50 POINTS in ENGLISH and JAPANESE together, they will be suggested to pick a song that was originally in korean ( or had a korean version ) and learn the secondary language song ( eg. agito’s ‘scent of you’, which was originally in japanese, but was released in both japanese and korean ) to make it easier for them.

all of the performances will be around 2 minutes each.

important note: not completing the writing requirements mentioned below can result in being removed from the group. if you are planning on moving your muse to a different path ( acting/modeling ) for q3, you can still complete the requirements below but you will be expected to sign-up for a career path transfer when the time comes.

WRITING REQUIREMENTS

PRACTICES & WORKSHOPS: continue the thread that you had in PART 1 with an additional 4 posts ( 2 posts per mun; 8 lines minimum ) OR write a 300+ word solo about the practice sessions, song selection process, or brainstorming ideas with a coach for the creative performance for +10 POINTS in MUSIC COMPOSITION, LYRIC COMPOSITION, INSTRUMENT ( PLEASE SPECIFY ), or CHOREOGRAPHY ( PLEASE SPECIFY ) !

SOLO PERFORMANCES: write a 400+ word headcanon post about the solo performances. the post MUST include the following: songs chosen, reason(s) behind the selected songs and what specifically was changed in the original song for the creative performance ( eg. musical arrangement, addition of lyrics, original choreography, etc. ). completing this will reward you +5 POINTS in KOREAN, ENGLISH, or JAPANESE, and +10 POINTS in SINGING, DANCING, RAPPING, or PERFORMANCE.

make sure to use the hashtag lgc:tumission for all of the tasks. you have until JUNE 22, 2024 at 11:59PM EDT to complete the requirements and validate your points. please submit the following form ONCE on the points blog.

MUSE NAME ∙ TEAM UNKNOWN MISSION 004 - P&W: +10 ( music composition, lyric composition, instrument [ please specify ], choreography [ please specify] )  [ LINK ] - SOLO PERFORMANCES: +5 ( korean, english, OR japanese ), +10 ( singing, dancing, rapping, AND/OR performance ) [ LINK ]

[luckyluan]

The Detectives, Pt. IV

FEB 12, 2024 - 11:10PM 

Sawyer watched as Payton fussed with a length of golden rope. Payton, a lanky Black guy with his signature tapered fade tucked neatly under the brim of a black velvet Stetson, did not look up. Bright constellations twinkled and drifted across Payton’s hat as he shook the length of rope for good measure. 

“You know we don’t usually work this hard up here in St. James Parish.” Sawyer drawled. 

Sawyer stood with the thumbs of his rugged hands looped around the grimy denim of his boot cut jeans. His plaid shirt fluttered in an easy breeze that bent the grass into smiling curves. The same breeze carried Sawyer’s scent under Payton’s nose and his mouth began to water.  

The sweet top notes of Sawyer’s decadent smell reached him first. He smelled of a warm sugar—like cookies or a homeade pie—at first; and then the enticing smell of his soap caressed Payton’s nostrils like the scent of a leather and cashmere. It was the bottom layer that made it imposssible for Payton to think. Sawyer’s final layer of fragrance smelled of sweat—a hard day’s work—that penetrated the other smells with a subtle occupation that can only be described as expert. 

“People only come up here to party or pet the unicorns, but look at you.” Sawyer smiled. “You’re handsome when you work.” 

“Only when I work?” Payton shot back. 

“I figured I’d start half mast. Test the waters before I dive. Can’t blame a cowboy for being cautious.” Sawyer said.  

Sawyer leaned on a bale of hay and the tailored sides of his button down shirt front slid apart revealing Sawyer’s glistening abs and another source of distraction for Payton. 

“Come here. What’s on your mind?” Sawyer said. 

Payton let the bale of hay tumble from his fingers. He removed his gloves and wrapped his arms around Sawyer’s midsection. He felt Sawyer’s heavy arm sqeeze his shoulders as he nuzzled his chin in the stubble at his chest. 

“Everything’s so fucked.” Payton said. “Someone is attacking Brimmens Alumni. Your dad’s retired friends, Maxim and Antwan; those kids that don’t have their powers anymore; the guy that came back to life; The four Blanchard Brothers entire power situation—the youngest even developed an a new abnormality. Even your missing unicorn...all because of this damn artifact.” 

“Darlin’, you’re one person. There’s no way you are carrying all these things on your mind at once.” Sawyer mused. “You have to give yourself a break.” 

“You don’t get it, Sawyer. Something is going on. I think all of this is connected. That trident...it started something I can’t put away just yet.” 

“I’m not saying you’re wrong, darlin’. I just want you to take a minute to yourself. I like to think you came up here to visit your husband, but I know you came up here to see if I talked to my pops or not.” 

“That’s not true!” Payton shot back. “...what did he say though?” 

Sawyer laughed as he spun Payton until his back was against the bale of hay. He stretched his arms out on either side of Payton and held his gaze. Sawyer’s green glass eyes made his brown face feel like a painting. Payton could usually get lost in his ocean colored eyes, but he was too distracted and Sawyer only smiled. 

“Pops is handling it. He’s pretty upset after the scuffle with Baz, but he’s tracing the artifact as it changes hands. The last person that used it apparently erased his bestfriend’s memory with it.” 

“So, he’s closer to finding out how it got here...” Payton mumbled. 

“He’s your chief, baby. You talk to him. I’m sure he’d love to hear you out.” Sawyer said. 

“I know. I just don’t want it to seem like I’m skipping the line, ya know? The Commissioner of the Magical Artifact Reclamation Sector is my father-in-law.”  

“And his fine ass son is your husband. You know, sometimes I’m not sure which impresses you more and I don’t know how to feel about that. Just talk to him how you talk to Commander Vance or Chancellor Goddfrey.”  

“But they’re easy to talk to, babe. Your dad is...different.” Payton spoke to a loose button on Sawyer’s shirt. 

“Be careful.” Sawyer’s tone warned. “And you know I stay out of Office of Restraint business. I mean, what would I know anywany. It isn’t like anyone talks to me not even my husband who came all the way to St. James Mythic Resuce to ask me about my dad.” 

Sawyer shrugged past him and stormed off toward the lake. A griffin bowed to him as he passed and Sawyer instinctively returned the gesture before trudging off. 

“You never learn. Do you, Payton Kyle? Fuck.” Payton chided himself. 

He shoved his gloves back on and heaved the last bales of hay onto his pile. He huffed and whispered a few choice words at his husband’s back. He stopped only when his phone rang. 

“Kyle.” He said into the receiver. “Nah, that’s not far. I’m at my father-in-law's ranch not too far from there. I’ll meet you in 20.” 

Payton shoved his phone back into the pocket of his jeans and turned to the massive dog lounging in the front seat of the truck. The grey dog lifted one of its heads as Payton approached. 

“When he stops pouting and undoubtedly asks where I am,” Payton said. “tell him his husband had to go back to spying on his coworkers to keep magic from being exposed—a favor he was asked by his father-in-law.” 

Payton stormed off and came to a halt. He turned and trudged back to the three headed dog who fixed him with an incredulous look. Payton scratched the dog behind the ears. 

“Thank you very much, Deuchalion.” he cooed. 

The dog licked a fork tongue at Payton’s cheek before he stormed off in the direction of the farm house. 

[bunbeeplays]

The Lemon Legacy: Generation 1, Chapter 24 - Woohoo-ed Up

Becca has officially joined the Hot Girls Only fitness club! Becca went to UBrite on a soccer scholarship, and her body clearly shows she’s quite fit. Too bad she’s feeling a bit out of it today.

Becca: Ugh! I’m just gonna… not right now.

Ophelia: You okay, girl? You seem off.

Becca: I dunno. Maybe I’m still jet lagged?

Summer: From a loading screen? I don’t think so.

Libby: Did you eat at any restaurants while we were in Sulani? Maybe you have food poisoning.

Becca: No, I just ate what Travis and Mark grilled for us, and some açaí bowls for breakfast. I took some medicine but I still feel kind of sick.

Libby: Oh no.

Ophelia: What?

Libby: Do you think the Watcher accidentally clicked Try For Baby?

Becca: What are you talking about?

Summer: Don’t act coy, we heard you two clanking around together in the shower.

Becca: Yeah but��� The Watcher wouldn’t be so careless, right? I mean, we even made sure risky woohoo was turned off!

Ophelia: Hey, let’s stay calm, okay? We don’t know for sure what The Watcher clicked. Besides, not every Try For Baby ends in a baby.

Becca: I have to go take a pregnancy test!

Summer: Becca, wait! At least get changed first! That tan looks ridiculous!

Libby: Poor Becca.

Summer: I know. She can kiss those abs goodbye.

Libby: I was more concerned about the potential baby part.

Ophelia: Girls, Travis and Becca are reasonable Sims. Whatever happens, things will be just fine.

It's Ophelia's last night performing at The Blue Velvet Nightclub before she starts working for the Laurents. Her friends come to support her, and even Hector Laurent himself stops by to pay his respects! After all, this job is the reason he discovered her in the first place.

Travis: Hey, listen, we didn't want to make tonight about us, so we're going to tell the others back at the house, but we wanted to tell you before it starts to show... Becca is pregnant.

Ophelia: That's great! Or horrible! Pick whichever is the correct response.

Becca: I know I freaked out at the gym and Trav wasn't much calmer when I told him, but we both want kids anyway. Sure, this wasn't planned, but we've got two steady income sources and we really love each other. We've been planning all day. We're both actually really excited.

Ophelia: Well, I'm happy for you two, and I mean that.

Travis: Thanks. We're happy too. We're looking for a starter home in Willow Creek, so let us know if you hear anything.

Becca: A lot of them were autofilled by MC Command Center. It's a tough market out there right now.

Ophelia can't believe it. One of her best friends is going to be a dad! What a perfect way to end spring. Things can only go up from here!

The Municipal Muses Museum. Once of the first places Ophelia came when she moved to Willow Creek. She remembers looking at this very statue, hoping some day she could... Hey, where did it go? I didn't even see her reach for it this time! She's getting good!

[kessielrg]

Kingdom Hearts AU: Lay In the Fire: Part 4

Summary: In which Ventus presents Aqua a traveler to feed on, with the promise that she will keep her alive. Things get messy from there.

Notes: Another thing based on luxmoogle’s vampire AU. Sponsored by Tove Lo’s Come Undone from her studio album, Sunshine Kitty. Much longer this time and with 60% of my usual shenanigans. 😘

Word Count: 3,847

Series: Stupid Kids: 1. Drink Deep: 1, 2, 3, [4]

AO3 Link: here

-

Ven was pacing. He couldn’t help it- his heart just wouldn’t calm down no matter how hard he willed it to.

Not long after parting from Aqua, Ven decided to write a note. That note ended up outside a certain room. Inside that note was an invitation and the location of one particular dress that had been suggested by Aqua. Now all Ven could do was wait. He tried to bide time by cranking the phonograph every so often, and he even checked the record to make sure it wouldn’t skip once he allowed it to start turning.

And, of course, he paced.

The sound of someone clearing their throat caught Ven’s attention. In that moment all his fears went away, and just as quickly a new wave of emotion set over him. Sabrina was at the door of the ballroom. Not only was she on time, she had also put on the suggested dress.

As Sabrina stepped further into the ballroom, everything in Ven froze just so his heart could leap right out of his chest. She was beautiful. The dress Aqua had suggested hugged Sabrina like a glove. The long skirt had a similar fullness to the circle skirts Sabrina was used to, and even boasted a silk underskirt for retaining modesty should she spin a bit too fast. Should Aqua ever decide to wear it again, Ven knew that all he would see was Sabrina. Crushed purple velvet was for Sabrina now- always and forever.

“Aqua’s really been hoarding dresses for decades, yeah? This is something my grandmother would wear.” Sabrina informed Ven once they were close enough.

“It definitely fits better than I thought it would.” Ven quietly mused. She didn’t quite seem to notice as she further scrutinized the dress.

“We’re not even the same size. Can you imagine being a whole half foot smaller than she is just to fit this?”

“No I can not.”

He almost let it slip that it was because he could only see her in it now, but he bit his tongue just in time. The odd moment must have been felt by Sabrina. She placed a hand on her hip as she stared him down.

“So did you invite me to the ballroom just to stare at me in one of Aqua’s older dresses, or is there a better reason?” she questioned.

Ven’s heart jumped right back into his chest again.

“Oh! Right.” he remembered. He gave her a pointed finger to indicate that she needed to wait for something. She then watched as Ven went over to the phonograph and turned its crank completely. Once the turntable was spinning, he placed the needle down on the record and went back to Sabrina. He offered a hand out to her as his face shown nothing but sincerity.

“A dance.” he offered. “Just one. That's all I ask.”

Sabrina looked at his hand, then at him. A mean little thought at the back of her head told her that he was testing her trust. The last few days were more than enough not to; his vampire master couldn’t keep her fangs to herself, he never directly told her that said master was watching, even though they both knew she was. But those were all issues that Aqua needed to address. It wasn’t Aqua that Sabrina was physically alone with right now. Aqua wasn’t the one she wrote letters to when her caravan was away.

Did she even need to not trust Ventus at this point?

“Slow dancing isn’t my thing.” Sabrina eventually said. Her smirk toward him was timid at best. This wasn’t going to be comfortable.

However, Ven was patient.

“Humor me.” he said back, holding his hand out a bit further.

Sabrina remained looking at him. Without ever looking away, she took his hand. She would let him lead- at least for now.

Aqua had spent half a year teaching Ventus various ballroom dances. They had both laughed at the time that they may never have proper balls or galas to show his dance moves in. There was one thing Aqua did tell Ven that was coming back now- read the cues, even if you may think you’re the one leading. Your partner may work to a different tempo, and that would be fine; so long you don’t run over another set of dancers. But adjusting would be a mutual effort. It also had to be done without any words being exchanged. That was what ultimately made dancing tricky. You could both be excellent dancers, but without reading each other and adjusting to your shared needs, everything could fall apart quickly.

For that reason, Ventus started slow and cautious. This was how he always approached Sabrina at first, so it made sense to dance the same way. Sabrina was too rigid, refusing to look anywhere but at Ventus, so he adjusted by allowing them to dance a bit further apart. This put her at a better comfort level. It would be her to bring them back in again once she gained a feel for the music’s tempo. That much made sense to both of them- Sabrina was the one who took time in knowing just what she was comfortable with and what she wasn’t. Offering herself to a vampire in exchange for knowing its familiar had been Sabrina’s idea. Sabrina remained at the castle after, even when she could have gone back home once she felt well again. Her presence still was a gift, not a right. And it all culminated in one important thing; her trust in Ventus.

As the song came to a close, and a new one replacing it, the two slowed in their dance but did not move far apart.

“Thank you.” Ven told Sabrina with full honesty.

“It wasn’t that horrible.” Sabrina retorted with a roll of her eyes. “Just another reminder that Aqua’s training you to be a fine gentleman- and not a feral monster like the rest of us.”

Ven’s face turned to disgust.

“You’re not a monster. Or feral.”

“I’m sure Papa would love to hear that one.” she laughed. She looked at him- a tricky little smile etching the corners of her lips. “You know, he talks about you. Always asking when I'm going to bring you around again. So, since we’ve shared a dance in your little hovel, why not spare one at mine? Eye for an eye, dance for a dance.”

He immediately wanted to agree.

“I’d have to ask…” Ven started to say. He soon shook his head. “I would love to escort you back home. It would be good to get some fresh air too.”

“The nightlife really shines in our camp.” Sabrina smiled. “A heart like yours might just explode from the energy.”

“I can do my best. Isn’t that what matters?”

“I suppose so.”

The two smiled at each other. Sabrina happened to glance down, noting that their hands were still knit inside each other. That was when she finally realized they were still so close. She stepped out of their circle like she was avoiding a snake.

“I should… go get my stuff ready,” she mumbled, “If I'm going home tonight.”

Ven nodded, allowing her the right to leave. She nodded back, not looking him in the eye, as she quickly made her way out of the ballroom. He could see her even as she left eye range. For a moment, he wondered how much longer she would be like a ghost to him; always there, but slightly out of reach. He only hoped it wouldn’t be for much longer…

-

They weren’t even able to reach the outskirts of the camp before hearing a cacophony of “Sabreenie! Sabreenie!” call out to them. Not long after, a bundle of kids came running up to pull at Sabrina’s dress. It only took one to notice Ventus- and they were the loudest of them all.

“Sabreenie brought a boy with her!!!”

The children let out a collective ‘ooooh’ at the discovery. Ven could feel his cheeks heat up. Sabrina wasn’t taking any of it. Her mouth opened, prepared to reprimand them, but someone managed to beat her to it.

“Give them space, you hoodlums.” the voice of the caravan’s patriarch, Sabrina’s Papa, told the children. “You still have to feed the horse and help Mama with dinner.”

“Yes sir.” the children replied with sad voices as they went back to the camp, heads down in despair. The patriarch laughed, then turned his attention to Sabrina and Ventus.

“Ventus!” Papa happily greeted. “It’s been awhile since you’ve been around. How have you been?”

“Fine,” Ven anxiously said, even rubbing the back of his head. “Do you mind if I stay for dinner tonight?”

“Did you miss our big pot of stew? It’s never the same way twice!”

Ven took a glance to Sabrina. “Something like that…”

Getting accustomed to the traveler’s camp again took quite a bit of effort. There was always someone who needed attention somewhere. And since Ventus was a familiar, yet not quite family, face, he was taken this and there to many questions and even more requests for help. He didn’t even get to see Sabrina until after everyone was able to eat, and even then, she had purposely sat down on the opposite side of the bonfire. Her tricky eyes flickering back at him, while he likely looked pretty lost from it all.

There was always someone dancing too. Men and women and children, taking turns and switching partners and making it hard to tell who was sitting at any time and who was part of the crowd. One of the current dancers had thrown Ventus into the fray. The poor vampire’s familiar found himself spinning in ways he’d never done before. In almost every ballroom dance, no one could consider you getting dizzy from not being able to spot where you’re going. The only time Ven was able to stop spinning was when he bumped right into someone’s arms.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-” he started to say before realizing who had caught him.

It was Sabrina, and her face looked awfully smug.

“Having fun?” she asked- that smug look really went right to her lips.

“I don’t think I’m good at dancing this quickly.” Ven sheepishly admitted.

“Humor me.”

Ven’s heart jolted. He gave her a nod and started to take her lead.

Dancing at the traveler’s camp was like the opposite of dancing in the castle’s ballroom. Sabrina was leading, and it was Ventus who needed the assurance of trust to keep dancing. Their movements together were quick. It became a marvel that they could become synchronized so well. Not quickly, mind you, but with enough trust they could work with each other’s dancing comforts.

Ven didn’t realize how exhausting it all was until Sabrina made the decision to move them away from the bonfire and toward the wagons. It was so prominent that he didn’t even realize that she was taking him to a specific wagon until it was too late.

“I got to see the inside of your house,” Sabrina told him, “So now you get to see inside mine. Eye for an eye, dance for a dance, and home for a home.”

Ven blinked.

“Are you sure?” he asked, but she had already opened the door at the back of the wagon and entered. The boy blinked a few more times before his legs finally moved him forward. There were three floating steps to get inside the wagon.

Inside was like a world all its own. Sabrina had barely decorated the inside, and what she had usually consisted of a deep purple with a hint of blue. Her bed was placed against the long wall on the left, and her chests of clothing and other precious items were on the long right wall. At the front of the wagon was a small area that resembled a desk, sitting on top was a bottle of ink and a writing pen. Ven flushed in realizing that it was the place she must sit when they write their letters to each other.

He now understood why they always carried the smallest trace of lavender to them- her whole wagon had the aroma.

“A bit smaller than you’re used to, I’m sure.” Sabrina smirked. She was already sitting quite haughtily on her bed. Her shoes had been removed and placed carefully by the chests.

“It’s… comforting.” Ven carefully admitted. He sat next to her on her bed before adding, “It’s a lot like you.”

“You think I’m comforting?”

Ven’s face flushed a deep red.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

Sabrina laughed, enjoying his mild discomfort.

“Why do you always laugh at me?” Ven questioned, refusing to look at her.

“Because you’re hopeless.” came the sure answer. “That’s what I like about you.”

“You like me? That’s news.”

Sabrina chuckled as she shook her head. She’d never fully admit how she felt about him. The meantime felt a lot funnier.

“Before, you asked me what I meant by a comfortable relationship.” she then told him. “Since we’re as alone as we’re going to get, I think you deserve to know.”

Ven put his hands in his lap. He prepared himself for whatever she was going to say next with controlled eagerness.

“For me,” Sabrina said to him, “There are no loving or caring relationships unless you trust the other person. You have to believe them enough to defend them when no one’s looking. Being comfortable in a relationship means that you can trust someone with a secret. Believe them when they tell you theirs. To invite them to a space special to you, like, say, the place they call home, takes so much love and trust and safety and-”

“Did you ever learn to say ‘I love you’ in a normal way?”

His boldness had shocked her. At the same time, she was absolutely thrilled by it.

“Not at all.” she smirked, moving closer to him. “Are you requesting that I make an attempt to?”

Ven smiled as he also moved close.

“Nope.”

The two were chest to chest now. Sabrina had even extended her arm over his body to keep herself steady.

“What if I use my actions instead?” she challenged. “Would you try to stop me?”

Her eyes were so dark, so relaxed at the sight of him. Ven felt like he was falling into an abyss. His head felt so light, it was no wonder that his eyes fluttered to the top of his skull when their lips were just breaths away.

“Never.” he promised. Seconds after, their lips touched with chilling static overcoming their bodies. Neither wanted to let go.

It got heavy fast. Ven found his hands roaming to cup Sabrina’s face as the kiss deepened. Sabrina was the one who led them down against her bed. From there, her hands roamed from his chest to his back, clenching his clothing to keep him as close as possible. Ven became the first to vocalize his lust. It didn’t take long for him to coax one out of Sabrina as well.

Note to self: Aqua was never allowed to touch Sabrina’s neck. Only Ven could taste her there. And only him from now on.

The two broke apart for all of a moment. Ven took the opportunity to sit back up, intending to undo the buttons on his vest and shirt. Sabrina stopped him by placing a hand over his.

“Not here, not now.” she told him. Her eyes clearly wanted differently, but even in this heated moment her mind was as rational as ever.

Ven looked like a child who had denied dessert.

“But I thought…”

Sabrina brought him closer, allowing their foreheads to touch.

“Not here, not now,” she repeated in a smaller, sincere voice. He understood.

“As you wish.” Ventus husked before leading them back in for one passionate kiss after another. No one else in the world mattered anymore.

-

Ven didn’t want to leave. Climbing around her had already been an exercise in patience, and now looking at her continue to sleep made him feel guilty. They didn’t even do anything. Except for a few kisses. …and even fewer bruises from getting a bit too engrossed in each other with the skin contact available.

Not that he felt guilty about those. He was actually quite proud of them, if he was going to be honest with himself.

“I love you.” Ven admitted in a hushed whisper as he stroked a thumb against Sabrina’s cheek. A small hum came from Sabrina’s lips. He took it as an answer. Smiling, Ventus left Sabrina’s wagon. He made sure no one was watching before transforming into his owl form to fly back home.

He would sleep well for the rest of the night. The ghost of Sabrina’s presence haunting his dreams with warmth.

The next morning was spent on autopilot as he got dressed and prepared Aqua’s breakfast. And of course she noticed. And thankfully she didn’t comment on it. As they spent the rest of the morning in the library, Aqua studied him.

He was still reading Giselle, but he certainly wasn’t looking at the words. It was then that Aqua made a choice. She carefully closed her book to give Ventus all of her attention.

“You know, I’ve been doing some thinking.” she told him.

“Oh yeah?” Ven mused, lulling his head over to look her way.

“I think we could join the travelers for a season. Perhaps winter. The Baron might be a bit lonely, but I’m sure he could manage for a few months.”

Ven’s eyes shot wide open.

“Are you serious?”

The vampire gave a firm nod. Ven’s eyes then lit up with joy.

“Winter would be perfect!” he agreed- his voice getting a bit too loud from his own excitement. “You could cover almost all the way up and it wouldn’t look out of place- especially since I don’t think anyone rides in the wagons while they’re traveling. Oh! That means we’d have to get you new veils! And gloves!”

Aqua laughed as her familiar started to form a list of needed items out loud.

“I wonder if we’d have to make our own wagon, or if we can borrow one. If that’s the case, then we’d have to spend time building it. And we can build it to have faux windows! It would be perfect, and no one would ever know! And if they do ask, we just say you have severe allergies to various pollen. We’ve done it before, and no one’s asked after. And since we’d be traveling somewhere new, it would be an even better excuse!

“But what about your feedings? We can’t use the same person every time- it would look suspicious. Trying to go after someone different would be weird too. If it’s someone from the camp, they’d pick up a pattern pretty quickly. And there’s  no guarantee there’d be wildlife where we go… We might have to work on that. If only there was a way to preserve plasma for long periods of time!”

A smile was on Aqua’s face, and it surely wasn’t going away anytime soon. Everything was just as it should be.

For now.

-

She didn’t want to admit it, but Sabrina spent the next morning taking too long trying to reach for a hand that wasn’t there. She knew it wouldn’t be there, but she still tried.

The bed felt a lot colder too, now that she thought about it.

Curse that idiot.

Curse him to the best-worst place in all the cosmos. He deserved every inch of it.

And yet, every bit of her felt light. The good mood allowed her to pick out one of her favorite skirts before heading out to the campfire for breakfast. She must have slept in, considering the only ones still around were her caretakers. She must have also been smiling, or otherwise looked far off, because Papa gave her a rather bemused double take.

“Did you sleep well last night?” he carefully probed.

“You know? I think I did.” Sabrina agreed, her voice sounding as if she was just finding this out now.

“Is the boy that came last night still here?” Mama then inquired.

Sabrina shook her head.

“He couldn’t stay. The schedule’s kinda rigid back at home for him.” A small pause. “Not that I wouldn’t mind him staying over again.”

Her caretakers exchanged a knowing look with each other- they knew something about Sabrina that it would take her years, if ever, to fully understand. And the thought pleased them, to say the least.

“Are you hungry?” Mama asked. “There are still some omelets left over. Plenty of fresh fruit too.”

“Did someone manage to find strawberries?”

“They did!”

“Then I’ll take the rest.”

The small family laughed. Breakfast then went on rather smoothly. She talked with her caretakers about her adventures while riding, and giving cryptic remarks on her time with Ventus when her caretakers asked about them. None of them noticed as a man came walking up to camp.

“Pardon me.” a new voice spoke up. Sabrina and her caretakers looked to the voice. It was a young man with brown hair and determinate blue eyes. He looked to her caretakers before zoning in on Sabrina herself.

“Are you the maiden with the white steed that glides through the woods at night?” he asked. His voice was stern and clear.

“I am she.” Sabrina agreed. “Who are you, and what brings you to ask?”

The mysterious man bowed to her.

“My name is Terra. I’ve come a long way in search of what lurks in the castle overlooking the village. I was hoping that you would aid my knowledge. Many of the villagers do not know you by name, but have seen you close to the area.”

Sabrina cocked an eyebrow. She looked the man over from head to toe. He dressed rather practically, for what it was worth. His well defined abdominal muscles faintly pressed against a black, long sleeved cotton top. The canvas trousers he wore sported the same deep brown as his coat- which in and of itself looked quite worn at the ends of the collar and back paneling. Even more noticeable were his boots. Made of rough leather, they were exceptionally clean for someone who must have trekked through some mud to get to the traveler’s camp. To finish the look off, the mysterious man wore elbow length work gloves and a shallow, wide brimmed hat that wouldn’t last long in higher winds.

After taking in his physical features, Sabrina noticed something almost poking out from the coat’s semi-closed lining. The man was wearing a leather belt across his chest- attached to one of the loops was a stake pointed and poised for an attack. Seeing this, Sabrina put on a sickeningly sweet smile.

This man was a vampire hunter.

Well then.

This poor sucker had no idea what he was in for.

[devinescribe]

How They View You Through Poetry

Also for some it is poetry they'd say to you/about you, makes them think about you. Some of it is wrtten by others, some of it is written by me

Banda

Someone else's:

If I were to build a house

I'd have your arms as the walls

Your eyes as the windows

Your smile as the front door

Your heart as the fireplace

And your soul as my light

And in this house

I'd place my faith

Knowing I'd finally

Found a home

- From the book: Pillow Thoughts

Mine:

I sound your name out

It sounds foreign on my toungue

And it tastes like the most delicious fruit

I feel like a sinner

When you say my name.

You make it sound almost holy

Matsushita

Someone Else's:

I seek nothing but 

Some solace 

From this world that runs so damn fast

A smile stuck on your face

The smiles goes into my eyes 

And the fast world

Slows down.

-Seek Solace [the website did not say who it was by]

Mine:

Your arms feel like velvet wrapped around me

But better

The finest silk

Could not compare to the softness your

Skin

On

Mine

Niragi

Someone else's:

you were my reminder.

my reminder that

i deserve

good things

and good love

my reminder that

there will always

be people who are

willing to give those

to me

- I dont know who it is by, I found it on tik tok

Mine:

Unholy

I am unclean

I am not worthy of you

Not worthy of this attention

Your love

Is a church where I feel

Welcomed

Not to the lord

But in your arms

I am in heaven

Chishiya

Someone Else's:

wrap me up in arms that keep me warm

you smell like home

you feel like someone who was made for me.

you sound like a calling that has been silenced.

you sound like surrender.

- From the Book "Words You Never Thought You'd Hear" by Rhiannon Janae

Mine:

No more emotions

That drag me down like

Resentment

And I love hate that

I love you

Because you're now in my head

I can't think about anything but you

You

You

You

Y

Yo

You

Yo

Y

Are my one

And

Only

My dearest

My love

My only reason for

No more apathy

Kyuma

Someone else's:

Art has always found a way in

to speak to my heart

And you've been my favorite piece

- A Way In from the book Daydream by Ariel West.

Mine:

You are the muse to

My everything

Art can not be compared to you

For you,

My inspiration,

my moon, my stars, my sun...

I'd write hundreds of songs

All about your beauty

If it meant seeing you

Smile

- My Muse by ME! that's right me the author lol

This was a test to see how it does! If people like it, ill add a part two!

Also, please please please dont judge my poetry or will cry /j

Also im not joking if my works arent like a thousand words it never lets me post them😭😭😭😭😭😭

[braveryhearted]

More obscure muses ( Introduction ) series.

Fandom: Persona 4: Arena.

Muse #1- Sho Minazuki

Age 18-19 ( games )

Due to being a child test subject in Persona-related experiments, Sho is a young man with a vicious streak and a thirst for fighting. He is puerile, caustic, extremely volatile, and easily bored. Through Shuji Ikutsuki's influence, Sho developed a habit of making puns. Raised in near-isolation, Sho was never properly socialized, and thus finds it difficult to relate to others in a typical fashion; combat is ingrained in him as his primary means of social connection, but this is not a tendency that serves him well among ordinary people.

Sho is highly misanthropic and wishes for a world in which only he lives. Ever since Ikutsuki "threw" Sho away as a failed experiment, Sho developed a deep mistrust of others' intentions, eventually doubting the authenticity of any and all human bonds, viewing them as a crutch others cling to when they're too weak to stand alone.

He was an orphan who was once one of Shuji Ikutsuki's test subjects, much like the members of Strega. Due to his unusually aggressive tendencies and tremendous fighting potential, Ikutsuki regarded Sho as his favorite test subject. As part of the experiment, named "Project PUPPETMASTER," Ikutsuki isolated Sho from the world to prevent him from forming ordinary bonds and ensure that he would become the ideal fighter, relying on combat alone to connect to others. Sho came to bond with Ikutsuki and view him as a father figure even so, a role which Ikutsuki accepted as a means to manipulate Sho.

After escaping a hospital years later and settling in Inaba before the serial murders began, Sho developed an interest in the case and followed the investigation team around in secret, feeling that perhaps they might be able to understand him. He eventually judged this an impossibility, however, and fell into bitterness and despair. He shrugs off the notion that any person can be truly trusted or relied upon, concluding that those who do are both weaklings and fools. Sho comes to yearn for a world in which only he exists.

Sho used to have the SUN arcana but in the end turns into the MOON arcana. Sho had the potential to become a wildcard but refused to do so; Igor still thinks he will become a guest in the future. To date, Sho is the only character in the Persona series, as well as the first Wild Card, to reject the contract of the Velvet Room. He is also the first character with the potential of being Wild Card to use his abilities for malevolent purposes, the second being Goro Akechi from Persona 5.