#You all don’t just like such open love such UNDISGUISED love

[gayziraphale]

if you thought the mermaid scene was cringe and awkward I have nothing to say to you because 🥹🥹🥹

[darcydarlingdabbles]

Meadows and Moonlight

Astarion x F!Tav(Est) + Halsin ~4.7k

After the epilogue party, Astarion and Tav finally take Halsin up on his proposition.

Smut. This is shameless smut. Two elves and a tiefling doing it the woods. Soft Dom!Astarion. More submissive Halsin.

//This is a little rough and unedited. Life said, that's a nice mental health ya had, would be a shame if something happened to it...but I think this helped me through it. Maybe XD// ✿⊹₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✩ ₊⁺⋆☽⋆⁺₊⊹ ✿

The warmth of the crackling campfire was a welcome and familiar embrace as Tav scanned the faces around her.

Their companions, their friends, looking better than they ever had, celebrating their victory nearly half a year ago. Wyll, Gale, Shadowheart all looking so content—even Lae’zel had the edge of a smile to her sharp features.

Though they weren’t all gathered around the fire.

Tav caught movement in her peripheral vision, drawn over to a secluded corner, where Astarion was murmuring intently to Halsin.

The hulking druid’s brow furrowed as the pale rouge bent his ear, like the devil on his shoulder. But as Tav found her way over to the elves, they both pulled back with smiles on their faces.

“Darling, were your point little ears burning?” Her vampire said, with a smirk he hid behind his own wine goblet.

“Maybe a little,” The tiefling said, with a flick of her tail. “What nefarious plots are you two cooking up over here?”

Astarion waved a hand dismissively. “Nothing so exciting, I’m afraid. Just catching up.” 

Halsin gave the man a bemused expression, but he leaned forward to Tav. “I was just remarking to Astarion how vibrant and...energetic you two seem together these days. That aura of yours could blot out a full moon on a cloudless night.”

Tav nearly choked on her wine, shooting Astarion an accusatory look. He held up his hands defensively, but there was no remorse on his tongue.

“Now dear, don’t give me that look. You know how Halsin is—he’s just naturally attuned to those sorts of...energies.” His voice dropped to a sultry purr on the last word.

Halsin chuckled, his voice warm and rich. “Indeed, the two of you simply radiate...primal passion.” His deep gaze met hers. “Any being would be lucky to revel in such a profound bond.”

Tav’s eyebrows shot up. That…was almost subtle for the wood elf.

Astarion let out a low laugh beside her. “Why Halsin, I thought you’d never ask.” 

Her surprise redoubled as she watched this new boldness in her partner. He reached out, placing a hand brazenly on the druid’s thick, muscular arm.

But Astarion wasn’t putting on one of his cavalier acts this time. 

His interest was undisguised, unvarnished desire writ plainly across his aristocratic features as he appraised Halsin with open want.

“What do you say, my love?” Excitement and curiosity danced in those piercing red eyes.

The druid said nothing, but she could feel him waiting on her answer with baited breath.

Tav felt a shiver of anticipation course through her. Astarion wanted this—wanted Halsin. And from the way the burly elf’s gaze roved appreciatively over them both, the interest was utterly mutual.

She found herself unable to tear her eyes away, imagining what might unfold when this raucous celebration finally dispersed.

Picturing Astarion’s cool confidence melting into ardor, his lithe form entangled with Halsin’s powerful frame. 

The thought sent a delicious shiver of arousal through her core.

“Yes, I say yes.” Tav grinned as Astarion took her arm in his.

“Then, I am even more enthusiastic for this party to end.” The vampire said, with a mischievous purr.

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Astarion nipped playfully at Tav's earlobe, causing her to squeal in surprise and stumble into him.

And he tumbled right over into the soft grass, landing with her sprawled across his chest.

“So much for a rogue’s grace.” Tav huffed, pushing herself upright. “You’re not near drunk enough to be unsteady, my love.”

His laughter echoed up to the full moon hung overhead. “Perhaps I’m trying to catch you off-guard, hmm?” the elf smirked, tilting his head as he looked up at her.

Tav pushed herself up onto her knees, making a point of pinning him to the soft meadow as her tail curled around his thigh. “And yet, I’ve caught you.”

Astarion smirked, those red eyes as bright as the sky full of stars above them. And that look, as it always did, drew her close. Wanting to feel his lips on hers once again.

“Have you…?” He hummed, a breath before she could kiss him.

“Have I wha—”

Astarion had Tav on her back before she could finish her question. And she was looking up at him. His blonde curls ethereal in the moonlight that glinted off of his open smile.

The tiefling’s tail curled as arousal coiled in her core.

“Can you smell that, my love?” he murmured against her ear, his voice like velvet. “Your blood sings a different tune when desire courses through you.”

All of Tav’s limbs went still under Astarion. She tilted her head to expose more of her throat with just one of his intoxicating caresses.

He ducked to her neck, filling her with the anticipation of his teeth—when she felt that damn laugh of his instead. “You’re too easy.”

“I am not!” Tav shoved at the vampire’s chest, until he rolled off of her with utter glee.

“Aren’t you just?”

A rustling along the treeline drew their attention before Tav could come up with a response, which was actually a relief for her.

That turned to a thrum of excitement when she saw the hulking frame of Halsin stepping into the silver light.

“The night air carries far more than the fragrance of wildflowers.” He rumbled in his warm voice. “Your scents together are sweeter than honey.”

Tav swallowed thickly against the thrill Halsin’s easy words sent through her.

If they were right, about her scent and how it changed…she wondered how much it had already given away. Were her deepest cravings laid bare? Not only for Astarion’s wicked touch—but the primal pull she felt for the druid.

The vampire’s breath was back along her neck, his voice in her ear. “How deliciously wicked of you, my darling.”

Astarion’s arm slid deftly around Tav’s middle, pulling her back into his chest, nipping at her shoulder.

His playful tone was gone. Replaced with something almost, possessive about the way he held, the way he teased the marks he’d left along her throat just the other night.

Astarion wasn’t taunting anymore. He was showing off.

And she was malleable as clay in his hands.

Halsin’s gaze burned as he drank in the sight. “If…my company remains desired, that is.”

Astarion lifted his head long enough to give an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “You’re as insufferable as this one.” He scoffed, giving Tav a playful squeeze. “I believe we are both still willing…but.”

Tav turned to him, just to see him smirk.

“We play by my rules.” His lips grazed the shell of her pointed ear, making her tail curled. “Won’t we, my sweet?”

Her mouth opened to give a teasing protest, but the implication finally sank into her lust-addled mind. He wanted control.

And she would gladly give it.

“Yes,” she breathed, her voice tinged with a needy rasp. “Whatever you wish, Astarion.”

“So it shall be.” Halsin’s approval was palpable, a low rumbling purr resonating from deep within his chest as he stepped closer to where they were tangled.

In one fluid motion, Halsin shed his clothes and armor, baring his toned, sun-kissed form with shameless ease.

The druid cut an impressive figure in the moonlight—power and grace given form. A bear of man, bound and rounded with muscles. And…blessed with size in another, poignant area. 

Astarion bit back an Elvish curse beside her.

Desire scorched through her veins, but her gaze deferred to her vampire, who surprised her yet again with his reaction.

Astarion snicker, a sly smirk curving his sculpted lips. “I told you,” he said, recalling a previous conversation. Making her eyebrows lift. “Our dear druid would outlaw clothes if he could.”

“It is a crime to cover up the natural beauty of each and every creature.” Halsin stepped closer without an ounce of trepidation. “Especially, of the two before me now.”

“Halsin, is that an invitation to disrobe?” Astarion teased, as he slid from behind Tav. “Subtly isn’t your…strong suit, is it?

The vampire approached the druid with a flourish, his pale fingers splayed over the tanned, broad chest. Drawing that delicious contrast Tav had been craving. Delicate features against the rough and wild.

Her thighs pressed together.

She watched him, the way he shed his clothing, waiting for the mask to slip over his face and make his eyes go distant. 

But, there was none of that. Tav was left marveling at the ease and confidence Astarion exuded. He was a man transformed, free from the bounds imposed and…happy to pursue his desires. 

Astarion’s crimson gaze gleamed on hers, as he leaned up to kiss Halsin.

Their lips met eagerly. Reveling in the taste of each other, tongues exploring and claiming territory. Despite his vampiric strength and power, Astarion appeared wonderfully porcelain next to the broad-shouldered Halsin. Masculine in their own ways that contrasted beautifully. 

Tav needed out of the confines of her clothing.

Astarion’s hand slid over the druid’s face like well-worn leather as he tilted down to the pale elf. The shorter was still up on his toes—when he murmured something to Halsin.

 His arms slipped around the larger man’s neck as, with a laugh of pure delight, he leapt into Halsin’s waiting arms, his lithe legs wrapping around the wood elf’s muscular waist. Halsin caught him easily, strong hands gripping the vampire’s thighs as he pressed Astarion against the rough bark of a nearby tree.

Heat surged through Tav's entire body, her tail curling fully against her back, the sound of want nearly escaping from behind her hand.

Halsin was leaving searing kisses down Astarion’s throat, pink spots blooming along his pale skin—her blood making him flush. Until the druid moved to the side the vamp’s neck that still bore twin marks—

Tav was on her feet, naked, but her tail lashing from side to side. Ready to protect her elf, even from the mountain of a man.

The rogue’s fingers tangled in Halsin’s mane of hair, giving a sharp jerk. Halsin didn’t need more of an explanation. The man just seemed to understand, and his mouth moved from the tender territory of Astarion’s neck.

Lower still he went, peppering kisses along Astarion’s chiseled chest, his toned stomach, until finally, he took Astarion’s aching cock into his mouth. 

Tav watched, transfixed, as Astarion’s head fell back against the tree, his blonde curls over his forehead and clinging to the bark. . His red eyes fluttered closed, but his sounds sweet and understate.

She knew his sounds intimately now. The desperate way he kissed like he never wanted to part, like he was still shocked by the moans that fell unbidden from him when he was truly pleased.

He wasn’t playing it up. He was just…enjoying it.

Halsin was as capable as he boasted, apparently. More than that, he seemed to thoroughly enjoy hollowing his cheeks, sucking to the tip of Astation’s length, and sliding back down him to swallow more. The druid seemed to know, or her vampire had told him, that pleasing Astarion made Tav nearly feral with want.

Desire coursed through her veins like molten lava, pooling low in her belly. Her tail swayed, slow, the tip curling up with an eagerness…to touch, to taste, anything 

As if sensing her need, Astarion’s crimson eyes opened lazily, catching her gaze, and he lifted one of those elegant hands towards her, inviting her closer.

“Darling…” The way his lips parted and showed his fangs—Tav was already closing the distance between them. “You…really must try this mouth of Halsin’s.” 

She could have snorted at his audacity, but still it drue her right in.

Astarion was kissing her as soon as she was within arm’s reach, pulling her in to his side, none too careful with her hips or tail bumping into the massive druid between his legs. Tav lifted her appendage away though, sliding it to just barely curl around her vampire’s thigh, the caress comforting and familiar. 

“I would find great joy in satisfying your desires, should you so wish.” Halsin said, pulling his mouth free enough to do so. “Your body is a work, crafted with nature’s artisan skill. It would be a pleasure to appreciate it.” 

“And you thought I liked to pontificate in bed.” Astarion smirked, pulling Tav into his arms, his pale hands sliding over her heated tiefling skin. 

“I assure you I did not say pontificate.” She huffed as he pushed her back against the sturdy oak.

“No? He cupped her chin, his hand sliding down to her throat. “What was it…monologue then. Like a villain upon the stage, delivering a dying soliloquy?”

Tav opened her mouth to retort, when both men decided to remind her where they were.

Halsin’s large hands grabbed her hips, already making her gasp with the contrast of his warmth to the usual chill of Astarion’s touch. 

Her legs parted around broad shoulders as the druid hoisted her over them with a grin. “Hells—” She gasped, her back pressed against the bark of the same tree as she was lifted. Her grappled for Halsin’s hair, though her tail flung around Astarion’s waist—clinging to him for balance. 

“Relax darling, we’ve got you.” The vampire purred, moving to her side, leaning up to kiss her. Just as the druid’s mouth lapped at her soaking folds. 

Tav groaned, her head titled back until her horns dragged across the tree.

Normally, recently, perhaps she’d been the one doing the most talking. Astarion had his lines, his well practiced charms, but Tav cut right through them. 

But, it was damn hard to focus with Halsin’s tongue lathing at her sex, finding her clit with ease and confidence, though far from the practice and precision of her vampire’s dexterous mouth.

“Ah, my dear, the sight of you in such ecstasy as your essence is devoured... I could easily become accustom to it.” He purred to her, until her chest was so heated the summer air felt chilled against her peaked nipples.

Tav’s nails dug into the tree behind her, just as a deceptively delicate looking hand grabbed her by the horn, tilting her head to him. “All it took was an archdruid, to get you to focus on your pleasure first?” Astarion rumbled low to her. 

Tav couldn’t help but be just a little…defiant. Her vampire was calling the shots, but she could just let her palm just graze the length of him, before the vampire caught her wrist, pinning it to the wood behind her. 

“Ah-ha, not tonight my sweet.” 

Tav blinked at him, with as much focus she could manage as Halsin drew her closer and closer to the edge of her pleasure.

“I want to ravish you, have you be ravished. To have you enjoy all of the attention and affection gift to me.” Astarion confessed, his face gone softer. More sincere. “That is all I want.” 

Tav felt half-wild. Driven to a mad love, body and soul, by this amazing man.

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The moonlight cast pale highlights across Tav's bare skin as Astarion's lips trailed down her neck. His fangs grazed her delicate flesh, eliciting a shiver. "Do as I say, druid," he murmured against her ear, glancing at Halsin with a wicked grin. “Our darling Tav deserves to be pleased.”

Halsin's eyes burned with an animalistic desire, and she could feel his growl rumbling in her trembling thighs.

"Please," Tav breathed, desire coiling hotly in her core.

With a feral snarl, Halsin parted her thighs and his tongue darted out, lapping at her slick folds. Tav gasped, back arching as Astarion captured her lips in a searing kiss, swallowing her moans. His hands roamed freely, tweaking her nipples as Halsin's expert mouth worked her into a frenzy.

Unbridled pleasure crashed over her in waves, each flick of Halsin's talented tongue sending sparks dancing across her nerves. Astarion devoured her cries, his touch fever-hot against her skin. The coil within tightened, tightened until finally, it snapped. She shattered against Halsin's mouth with a primal cry.

As the last tremors faded, Astarion scooped Tav into his arms effortlessly. He carried her into the tall grass, laying her down with utmost tenderness amid the wildflowers.

Tav traced her fingers along Astarion's chest, admiring the way the moonlight caught on the sweat glistening on his skin.

"You two are a vision" Halsin said, a note of awe in his voice.

"You have no idea," Astarion murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to her neck.

Tav shivered at the touch. She let her eyes drift over to Halsin, who was kneeling in the grass next to them. Slick on his lips. His massive cock aching for attention.

“Astarion…?”

“Hmm,” The darkened red eyes took in the sight that was the archdruid on his knees. “Well, I might like to get my mouth on you, Halsin.” Astarion's voice was low, almost a growl.

The wood elf let out a low, throaty chuckle.. "I think that might be a bit much for one mouth," he said, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Then I should help.” Tav said, sliding from Astarion’s hold onto her knees.

He cocked an eyebrow, before giving his assent.

"I've been wanting to do this for a long time," he said, pushing at the druid’s chest. The muscle-bound man fell willingly back onto his heels.

Astarion smiled, his eyes never leaving Tav’s as he lowered his head to Halsin’s lap. Tav watched as he took Halsin’s cock into his mouth, her body trembling with fresh anticipation.

He was…big. Massive. Damn the druid for being right. He tasted of earth and musk and raw want—and Astarion drew Tav to him with a gaze. They knelt in tandem, their attention wholly consumed by Halsin’s aching cock.

Tav lips stretched around Halsin’s tip, greedy as she ever was to suck him down. Her moans hummed against his skin. It his turn to join Tav, watching as Halsin’s face took on a wild obscenity that the vampire couldn’t help but admire. For how open he was.

As they continued their dual ministrations, Astarion saw the flick of Tav’s tail, curling at the small of her back with renewed desire. He spotted the moment her hand snuck between her legs.

Suddenly, Astarion felt a shift in the atmosphere, his sharp eyes catching Tav's hand being gently enveloped by Halsin's larger one.

"May I?" Halsin asked him, his voice carrying a note of respect that Astarion found endearing. The druid was committed to following his rules, especially for such a untamed man.

Astarion gave a nod. He watched as Halsin’s thick fingers replaced Tav's delicate ones as they pressed into her. The sight of her squirming under Halsin’s touch stirred something within Astarion—that made him purr against his mouthful of the druid’s cock.

Tav gave a soft moan, her hand wrapped around the base of Halsin’s length, eyes gone unfocused as he slipped another finger into her. Astarion couldn't help but tease, "Oh my, how ever will you take all of him, when a couple fingers drive you to distraction" His smirk held a hint of challenge.

Halsin simply smiled at Astarion’s remark, his gaze never leaving Tav. “I know a rather ancient magic for such a predicament. ” he responded calmly, his hand never ceasing its efforts to make the tiefling tremble.

“Please…” Her voice quivered, those bright eyes unfocused as she begged him. “Astarion…can I?”

He grinned wickedly in return. “You may.”

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Tav sank down onto the soft grass, her hands and knees buried into the lush carpet. She was soaked from the druid’s mouth, and his fingers, and burning with how empty she felt.

Her eyes still on her lover, as she arched her back, position herself. As she curled her tail off to her side, presenting to hurry the druid along to take her.

Halsin’s large hands caressing her curves, anticipation making her shudder.

The blunt head of his cock pressed against her slit, and the tiefling’s talons pierced into the turf. When he finally sank into her, stretching her, filling her. Tav cried out, the pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.

“Just relax, little one.” With one slow thrust, he pushed inside, stretching her deliciously full.

“Are you alright, love?” Astarion asked, concern lacing his voice.

Tav gasped, rocking back against the druid. “It’s…good…fuck, more.” She demanded. 

And she was rewarded with Astarion’s deep chuckle, and more of Halsin’s thick cock. 

“More you shall have.” The druid rumbled.

Fuck, the way he stretched her. She could feel him against every wall, and even a shift of his hips made a mewl come from her bitten lips. 

Reassured, Astarion let out a filthy praise for her, his hand sliding over the arch of her back. Before deft fingers found their way down her belly to play with her clit. 

Tav cried out, back arching as the elves took over every sense. Her tail curled around Astarion’s arm as he played with her.

Halsin set a steady rhythm, driving into her again and again until her cries melted into wordless moans of bliss. The pressure built rapidly until finally she fell apart, climax crashing over her in shattering waves.

“Gorgeous creature.” The druid hummed, his fingers curled into her thigh.

“Careful…” Astarion eased her into the grass, his hand along her trembling thigh. “She’s quite sensitive after she comes.”

Tav was sinking to her belly, worn out, needing a break as Halsin slipped from her.  Astarion He soothed, his cool touch welcomed against her still throbbing sex.

“M’fine Tav panted, her cheek pressed into the soft grass, her usually sharp eyes completely out of focus. “More than fine.” 

The vampire’s eyes went to Halsin as the druid stroked himself with Tav’s slick.

"Is this the usual response from your bedfellows?" Astarion inquired, a hint of admiration slipping into his tone. Tav had rolled onto her side on the grass, a smile on her lips still as she shivered with aftershocks. 

“She did exceedingly well.” Halsin said, with all the warmth they expected from him. “Usually it takes a Nymph’s spell to take what nature has blessed me with.” 

The tiefling chuckled, but the vampire’s brows rose nearly into his hair. “A what? Sexual magic? Halsin…well, actually, I’m not at all surprised.”

“Would you like me to show you?” Halsin’s voice dropped impossibly lower, and he gestured towards the bed of grass. 

Astarion’s eyes darted to hers, but Tav could see the curiosity, and want. She grinned and nodded, as if he needed her permission to have what he already wanted. 

The pale elf moved, fluid as he always was when he crawled over his Tav. A kiss demanded and a kiss given. 

Then, to both Tav and Astarion’s surprise, Halsin leaned forward, his tongue tracing along the vampire’s tight rim of muscle.

Astarion yelped, his eyes flying wide, before melting into the unexpected touch.

Tav leaned up on her elbows, alert, scooting to sit up, to act. ”Astarion?”

“I’m fine.” He shivered. “I’ve never…experienced nymph magic,” he breathed, his voice thick with wonder and delight.

Tav had to make sure. Cupping his cheek until she caught his eyes—his gaze bright, wild, and fully present.

Her fingers curled into his silvery hair. 

Halsin…never lacked enthusasim. Even the push of his tongue dropped Astarion’s head to her lap, his panted breaths across her thighs.

“More?” The druid asked, leaning up from the vampire with a sound of protest from the pale elf’s lips. 

“Oh yes,” Astarion groaned spreading his legs wider in shameless invitation. “Take me, beast.”

He’d been waiting to use that line, she knew it. But that meant he was here, his humor intact as Tav watched Halsin press his hips flush to Astarion’s ass.

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Astarion’s breath caught in his throat as Halsin’s thick length stretched him open, the delicious burn stoking the flames of his desire. He was already shuddering before the druid even moved his hips. 

It wasn’t…his first time recieving. Far from it. He did his best not to let his mind wander back to those times—but he couldn’t help but wish he’d known the spell Halsin had whispered into his skin. The sheer pleasure of the stretch alone. 

He was panting against Tav’s familiar skin, breath playing over her ribs and her chest. If he had enough focus, he’d latched his lips around one her dark nipple—but that would require him being able to focus enough to watch where his teeth landed. 

He must have been still for too long, because he felt the blunt points of her nails slidng through his hair, tugging at him to look up, always making sure he was alright.

His cooled heart was always warmed when she did, even if he pretended to be annoyed. 

“Fuck,” Astarion finally lifted his head, a grin on his lips even as he panted. He pressed his lips to hers. 

He could hear the grin in Halsin’s face as the druid gripped his hips, and slid back slowly from him. 

Anticipation built sublimely in the vampire. And the first powerful thrust was everything he’d craved—he was driven deeper into the cradle of Tav’s thighs, her slick folds caressing his aching cock.

He could feel her shiver under him as each buck of Halsin’s hips rutted them together. 

“Tav…come here,” the vampire barely had to voice his desire against her still shining lips. 

Tav whimpered into his mouth in assent. She slid down his body, hooking her legs along the back of Astarion’s thighs—until he slid easy into her waiting warmth. 

They both groaned at Halsin’s next brutal thrust. 

Tav’s claws skimmed his sweat-slicked shoulders as she wrapped her arms around her vampire. 

Halsin pounded into them both with bestial fervor. The air was thick with the tang of sex and the slick sounds of flesh meeting flesh.

Trapped between them, wonderfully so, Astarion couldn’t think of a word other…than complete.

He drank in Tav’s cries of ecstasy, reveling in her growing desperation.

“That’s it, my love,” he panted against the curve of her neck between fevered kisses. “Let me hear you.”

Her walls clenched around him in response, silken and scorching. Halsin’s wild abandon jostled them both, the spawn taking Tav with as he was taken in turn.

Astarion threw his head back with a guttural sound, lost to everything but the dizzying spiral of pleasure consuming him from all sides. He was alive and set ablaze.

And how pleasant it was to burn.

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Halsin wrapped his bulky arms around Astarion and Tav, pulling their sweat-slicked bodies against his broad chest.

The three figures lay entwined, spent and panting, exhausted limbs heavy.

For a long moment, there was only the sound of their ragged breaths mingling with the gentle rustling of leaves and chirping of crickets in the surrounding woods.

Astarion turned his head on Halsin’s shoulder to gaze at Tav, a lazy smile playing at his lips.

Tav met his eyes, her own crinkling with amusement.

A chuckle bubbled up from Astarion’s throat. “Well, that was certainly...invigorating,” he quipped.

Tav’s musical laughter rang out as she leaned in, capturing Astarion’s mouth in a tender kiss, the casual intimacy of long-time lovers.

As the couple exchanged sweet nothings, Halsin watched them with a soft, indulgent smile, content to remain a silent observer.

There was something profoundly beautiful about the pure adoration that flowed between them, the deep bond they so clearly shared. An intimacy he could appreciate, even if he had no real part in it.

“Enchanting, how enraptured you are with one another. ” the druid remarked warmly. “A fleeting moment of passion, precious in its ephemerality.”

Astarion rolled his eyes fondly at the druid’s poetic waxing. “Ever the hopeless romantic, aren’t you Halsin? I suppose there are worse things.”

He turned back to Tav, fingertips grazing her cheek.”Now, where were we, my dearest? Ah yes...basking in the afterglow of our salacious little adventure...”

As Astarion drew her into another languid kiss, Halsin suppressed a wistful sigh.

What they had was rare and special, not to be intruded upon. He would enjoy this temporary closeness, this glimpse into their private world...but come morning, he knew, it would be a cherished memory and nothing more.

The lovers only had eyes for each other.

[ninibeingdelulu]

Movie night

synopsis-> Your boyfriend Kunigami really love horror movies, but you don’t.

a/n-> There should be more kunigami content on this app :(

The flickering glow from the TV casts dancing shadows across Rensuke's chiseled features, throwing his rugged jawline into stark relief as a manic, slasher villain's blade slices through the helpless victim on-screen in a spray of garish blood splatter.

You flinch violently at the accompanying shrill shriek of terror, burying your face further into the safe haven of Rensuke's broad chest.

His rumbling chuckle vibrates straight through your trembling frame as those strong arms circle snugly around you.

"Aw, what's the matter, sweetheart ?"

Rensuke's deep timbre thrums with undisguised amusement at your jumpiness.

"Don't tell me the big bad horror movie is too much for my baby."

You risk peeking one eye open just long enough to shoot him your fiercest attempted glare, which only results in his features crinkling further with suppressed laughter.

"Shut it, you jerk!"

You give his solid bicep a half-hearted smack for good measure.

"Not all of us are complete weirdos who find people getting butchered for entertainment funny."

"Hey now, that's just good cinema doing its job if ya ask me," he counters with a devilish grin, chin jutting lazily towards the gruesome scene still unfolding before you both. "Gets the blood pumping in all the right places, doesn't it?"

You huff out an exasperated groan, desperately fighting off the instinctive shudder rippling through you as his words take on a distinctly throatier, heated quality.

Of course your lovably barbaric boyfriend is the type to get...amused...over fictional violence and carnage rather than cowering in fear like a sane person.

Apparently picking up on your squirming discomfort, Rensuke's smirk melts into an expression of pure tenderness you'd quite honestly fallen head over heels for faster than a sucker punch all those months ago.

"Alright alright, I suppose I've teased my terrified little girlfriend more than enough for one night," he murmurs with a gentle squeeze.

Grabbing the remote from where it sits wedged beside his hip, Rensuke rapidly clicks through the menu until your favorite classic romantic comedy populates the television.

"There, that's better." he proclaims in that low rasping tenor sending shivers racing up your spine in the good way this time.

"Can't have my best girl spending the whole night beside me shaking of fear, now can I?"

Those playfully dancing orange irises do something dangerous to your insides each time Rensuke aims them directly at you like that.

"You're the biggest dork I've ever known," you grin up at him despite the jab. "But my dork I guess, for some weird reason."

His responding lopsided smile is equal parts heart-fluttering and knee-weakening. Like delicious molten chocolate trickling over a wildfire ready to sweep you up without warning at any given moment.

Too captivated in the depth of those endless orange pools reflecting back at you, you barely even register Rensuke stretching over until suddenly the thermostat is ratcheting up noticeably.

Within mere moments you find yourself ensconced beneath a deliciously suffocating layer of cozy warmth pinning you to his powerful frame.

Heavy lidded and sinking further into the addictive heat cocooning you in Rensuke's intoxicating scent, your limbs steadily grow heavier and heavier with each blink.

The last coherent thought flickering through your steadily slumbering consciousness as his chest rumbles a soothing tempo is wondering just how in the world you managed to deserve something so wonderful as this as a lullaby night after night...

[blakbonnet]

AUTHOR OF THE WEEK: @soupbtch

Ever read a fic and go "they're so 😭" - that's every single Danny fic to me, aka today's second aotw feature, and god, what an amazingly talented author they are.

I'm so glad you decided to write and grace us with your lovely and bonkers fics, because I cannot imagine the OFMD fic world without your incredible Every Part of You series. I cannot imagine logging into this website without another incredible post from you. Every single thing you write (and do) leaves me in stitches and then, more often than not, you straight up chair your friends with your ultra soft way of writing how much they love each other - in between the much needed elbow fucking. You are such an amazingly kind person - hilarious, supportive, and the best cheerleader 💕 Thank you for answering my questions:

What's your writing process like? Do you start with the beginning or the end? Do you write in order or as the scenes come to you?

I start with a pretty detailed outline because if I don’t go in with a plan, I’ll drop threads and/or write myself in circles. Then I have my outline open on half of my screen while I have a separate doc open on the other half where I’m actually writing. I write in order from beginning to end.

Favourite trope or headcanon you like to explore while writing? (Things like Ed's sweet tooth, Stede's ability to bury his feelings etc)

I have a lot of fun writing angst, so I think any facet of that I can explore is a good time. Weigh them down with insecurities and see how far I can bend them with external factors like plot points, each other, or other characters before they snap. So things like Stede believing he ruins everything he touches, Ed believing he doesn’t deserve fine things, and how they both stand in the way of their own happiness because of these feelings. I also love exploring like, the horrible communication skills Ed and Stede have with each other when it comes to their emotions, and setting up story beats where that intercommunication can break down. Because they’re idiots (affectionate).

Whose voice is easier to write - Ed or Stede? Why?

Ed for sure. I find him very easy to connect with, emotionally. All my favorite characters think they’re unlovable monsters and no, this says NOTHING about me personally, etc etc etc.

Your personal favourite thing you've written that you'd like more people to read

Red Skies at Night! It's modern au, but they're still on a boat! If you like slow burn, bitchy Stede, Ed with a tongue piercing, fun costumes, and a big dash of pining, I def recommend checking it out!! ❤️

What is the one word that you think you use a lot?

The one that comes to mind is ‘blink.’ Kind of a funny one, but to me, it’s such a juicy way to imply so much while saying so little, so I know I use it frequently. Stede asks, “Do you trust me?” and Ed blinks back at him as he tries to work out why that question hits him like a truck (because the answer is a very easy yes). Ed says, “You make me happy,” and Stede blinks back at him in awe (because Stede? Making someone happy? That can’t be true). You get it.

Do you have a beta reader? Have they made you a better writer?

Yes, Beedle (@sleepystede) and Connie (@spirker) have both beta read for me! They’ve helped me tremendously with flow and rewording awkward sentences, and I’ve improved a lot from their feedback. Connie has also been invaluable to bounce ideas off of for new fics and just generally pushing me to be more creative through her never-ending support and big beautiful brain.

Why OFMD ���

I loved season 1 when I first watched it, but as soon as I saw the season 2 trailer, something clicked in my brain. Where season 1 was slow burn, will-they-won’t-they, is this real or are they queerbaiting, season 2 was posing itself as very, very clearly queer. Stede is going to get his man. That’s it, that’s the show. Undisguised, unabashed, unapologetic gay yearning and gay romance. There are a million other things I can say, but I think it really all comes down to that. What a gift. No one does it like our show. 💖

Please head over to @ofmdlovelyletters (who also made the header) and send your love to all your favourite authors (and authors of the week 😈 watch that blog for some special letters coming your way)

[laundrybiscuits]

(young man what do you wanna be tag)

“Why won’t you pretend to date me?”

“Jesus fucking—holy goddamn taint-biting hell, Harrington.” Eddie clutches at his chest, trying to recover from a minor cardiac event caused by opening his bedroom door to find Steve Harrington sitting at his desk. “Why the fuck are you here? How the fuck are you here? Also, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“Wow, rude,” says Steve. “Wayne let me in. And Jonathan told me about the, uh, the Will plan. I think Argyle called it Operation Happy Ending? I don’t…I never know how serious he is about that stuff, man. Is he, like…okay?”

“Argyle is an enigma beyond mortal ken,” says Eddie fondly. 

“Sure,” says Steve. He sounds doubtful. “Anyway, why won’t you pretend to date me?”

Eddie groans, pitching backwards onto his mattress and scrubbing his palms over his face. “Because that idea sucks! It’s a bad idea! A better question is: why are you letting Jonathan Byers talk you into shit?”

“It sounds like a pretty good idea to me. It’s for Will, right? Jonathan said he needed to, uh, see a healthy model of a same-sex relationship.” 

Eddie would bet just about anything that the last part is a direct J. Byers quote.

“First, I’m not lying to a child. It’s deeply unethical, and as you well know, I am a scrupulously moral individual at all times. Second, do you really think it’s prime role model behavior to construct a fake relationship which will inevitably be unveiled as a sham and a farce? The foundations of young Byers’s world will be rocked, marking the beginning of a slow slide into disillusionment and crime. He’ll be serving twenty to life before you know it.”

Steve sighs, big and gusty like Eddie’s being somehow unreasonable. “God, you’re impossible. So just—actually date me, then.”

“Right,” says Eddie. “Obviously. Why didn’t I think of that. What the fuck, Steve.”

“What’s the difference between fake dating and real dating, anyway? We’ll go see a movie or something, get dinner.”

“Am I having a stroke? Okay, first of all, we cannot and will not do any of those things. Crash course on being gay in Hawkins: it sucks, and we will get jumped.”

“I’ll protect you,” says Steve, because he’s an arrogant dumbass with a white-knight streak a mile wide. Eddie likes him so, so much.

“Jesus. No, okay? You can’t fist-fight the entire goddamn world. They will literally, literally murder me. Lit-er-al-ly. This is—it’s a fucking stupid idea. You’re not even gay, what the fuck.”

“Uh, yeah, I’m bisexual.” Steve’s got a mulish look on his face. “So you should date me.”

“What.” Eddie sits up. “Since when? This is new information. Is this information I was supposed to have had previously? Is this information that other people have?” If Jonathan and Argyle knew and didn’t say anything, Eddie is going to murder them to death. 

Steve looks away, scratching at his jaw, and doesn’t answer. He doesn’t show when he’s nervous, usually, and it dawns on Eddie that Steve probably doesn’t have a lot of experience coming out of his sporty little closet.

“Ah, hey, I didn’t mean…I’m, uh, proud of you? I support you?” Eddie leans over to pat Steve’s shoulder awkwardly, trying his best to channel Murray but probably landing a little closer to Jonathan Byers.

“So…I can pick you up at six tomorrow?” Steve says. 

“Nope, still not happening,” says Eddie, and leaves the room. 

———

“I don’t get it. You’re, like, in love with him—” Jonathan ignores Eddie’s indignant squawking. “And he asked you out, and you said no?”

“He wasn’t asking me out for real! It was your bullshit garbage so-called plan, which is continuing to ruin my life. When I said I wouldn’t fake-date him, he just—switched tactics. He’s obviously trying to trick me into being part of this whole fake dating thing.”

“You realize that’s completely insane and makes no sense, right,” says Jonathan. 

“I am the Dungeon Master. I see all, and I know all.”

Jonathan squints at him with an undisguised and unwarranted skepticism. “You really gotta stop saying that, man. It does not sound as cool as you think it does.”

“I am extremely cool always. Also, I’m not in love with him. Gross,” Eddie grumbles.

“Don’t be homophobic, dude,” says Argyle peaceably. “Love is never gross in any form.”

“Excuse you, I will be as homophobic as I damn well please. Love is gay and I won’t have it in my house.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re joking but this is making me really uncomfortable,” says Jonathan.

“That’s homophobic, dude,” says Eddie. “Hush up and let the queers talk. I’m not in love with Steve, I’m in love with Argyle and we’re gonna run away and get married.”

Argyle shakes his head, laughing. “Nah, I don’t hang with matrimonial attachments. It’s all a scam by Big Wedding.” 

“Wait,” says Jonathan. “Seriously? Like, even if you fell for a girl?”

“If she’s the right lady for me, she won’t need a piece of paper to celebrate love. Love’s gotta live in the heart-house, Jonathan. In the heart-house.” Argyle taps Jonathan’s chest.

“Hear, hear,” says Eddie, who doesn’t have any particular opinions on the matter but would back just about anyone and any position in the entire world against Jonathan Byers at the moment.

[startanewdream]

This post about ducks made me so happy that I wanted to write a Hinny missing moment.

The sound of Ginny's giggle broke the silence; Harry, whose eyelids had started to feel very heavy under her soft caress on his hair, popped an eye open. Ginny was shaking her head, already dismissing what had made amused her, and Harry wished he wouldn’t; her eyes lit when Ginny was laughing, and that was a sight he favoured a lot.

“What?”

She looked down, already laying her back against the tree. “Oh, I awoke you up, sorry. Go back to sleep.”

“I wasn’t,” he assured her; Ginny threw him a disbelieving look. “I am not anymore anyway—what was it?”

“It’s silly,” she warned him. Harry waited. “But—ducks.”

“Ducks,” he repeated slowly. Then he checked the books she was studying. “Have you Confounded yourself—”

“Not this time.” She chuckled, then pointed ahead with her quill. “Ducks in the lake.”

Harry turned his head; sure enough, there were four ducks at the corner of the lake nearest to them, and more were coming. As he watched, a piece of bread was perfectly aimed to fall in the lake—the ducks converged on it, and Ginny’s giggle sounded again.

“Ducks are so cute!”

Harry smiled, raising to sit by Ginny’s side against the trunk of the oak tree. “I think those are… garganey.”

“Garganey,” she repeated. Then she swished her quill like a wand. “Garganey! It sounds like a spell.”

He laughed. “I think they are just ordinary birds.”

“Shhhh. Harley will think you don’t like him.”

“Harley?”

She pointed to the duck closest to them, almost at the edge of the lake. “That’s Harley. He was the first to show up. The others followed him.”

“I guess this had nothing to do with the crumbs you threw.”

“See? I’m thinking you really don’t like Harley, Harry.”

Harry looked at the duck; the duck tilted its head but didn’t seem to give him much attention. “Sorry, Harley,” he said anyway. Ginny grinned at him. “I hope you can forgive me before the autumn.”

“Here, some bread to help,” she suggested. Then, after Harry threw the crumbs far away, Ginny asked: “Why autumn?”

“Oh, garganeys are migratory birds, they only come here for spring, come autumn they will be gone.” Under her gaze, Harry shrugged. “I studied them in school, before Hogwarts. I remember because back then I wish could be a migratory bird so I could leave my uncle and aunt’s house.” He considered it for a moment. “In a way, I’m only there for the summer, so maybe my wish was granted.”

Ginny pressed her lips for a moment; there was a frown on her forehead that told him she was upset, but before he could do anything, she just smiled bravely at him. “You won’t need to go there much longer.”

“Yeah.” He thought about the summer, but more than any worry about the Dursley, Harry could just see happy sunlit days ahead. “If you like birds, I know there are plenty of them in some parks in London. More, even. Swans, geese, mallards, pelicans.”

“Have you gone there?”

“Just once, on a school trip.” He remembered that day: in their visit to the park, Dudley had got some coins from his parents and had bought an ice cream; Harry had watched it melting away with undisguised envy.

“Hey,” Ginny called him softly. For a moment, Harry feared the misery that memory had brought him had shown on his face, but there was only tenderness in her face as she moved closer—and then all negative thoughts were repelled as her lips touched his. He pulled her closer; Ginny sat on his lap, her hands buried in his hair—a touch that wasn’t making him sleepy at all.

He could stay there and kiss her forever, but then a loud weird sound made them laugh, breaking apart.

“Oh, Harley,” she said, shaking her head, and moving to grab the pieces of bread left; the garganey was singing still. Harry didn’t think the sound was pleasant, but Ginny looked fondly at the duck. “There, it’s all I have.”

“You know, I think that was a mating call. Harley is in love with you.”

“Oh.” Her eyes lit with amusement. “So I guess you have some competition.”

For a moment Harry thought about commenting on how popular she was, but he decided that adding names to her suitor’s list was against his best interests.

“Well, you don’t have to feed me—” She looked down at the remains of their picnic by the lake. Harry laughed. “Hum—I don’t plan on leaving you when autumn comes.”

She held his hand. “That’s a big advantage—and you will take me to parks in London.”

Harry pictured himself walking hand-in-hand with Ginny, sharing ice cream with her. Feeling the taste of chocolate on her cool lips, the perfect kiss on a hot summer day.

“I will,” he agreed, laying down on her lap again to watch the ducks swimming away.

[sanisse]

3 for Maedhros? He definitely has a size kink.

Hell YEAH

Kinktober 3: Size Difference - Maedhros x Reader

Spice level: 🌶🌶🌶🌶 🌶🌶 that’s one chili extra so this is uh…it’s a lot. 😳 much like Maedhros’ big di—

Warnings: none except penetrative sex. Reader’s specific biology is not mentioned.

Translation:

Winicë - [Q] - “little one”

You love the way that he can lift you up in his arms to kiss you. The way that he almost has to, just so the two of you aren’t straining your necks. You love how Maedhros’ arms feel as he winds them around you, how he encompasses you until he’s all there is in the world. You trade kisses and little nips as he walks the two of you to the bed and tosses you on it on your back, and then crawls on top to encompass you once more. Maedhros pins both your hands to the bed, lacing your fingers in his, drops kisses to your jaw, your neck, your shoulder.

“So small,” he hisses against your skin. “I’m going to swallow you whole.”

It makes you moan. You’re already so ready for him. “I want you to,” you whisper back, wresting one hand free just so you can wind it in that gorgeous red hair. “Maitimo— want you inside of me— please.”

He rumbles something incoherent. Slips a hand between your bodies to feather over your core. You gasp— already so sensitive.

“I don’t think you can take it, winicë,” he rumbles, pushing a finger inside of you. The friction makes you keen. It’s a familiar exchange that always gets him so hard.

“I don’t care,” you reply, rolling your hips. “I want it, please, Maitimo? I want you to hold me down and shove inside me and split me open until I can’t think.”

That makes him groan, low in the back of his throat, something half-feral. You love the sounds he makes when he gets like this. He pushes a second finger inside of you, scissors until you squirm and moan again. He watched you, watches as he fucks you, fingers pumping in, out, with undisguised lust.

You whimper again, reaching down to still his hand.

“What’s the matter, winicë? Not enough?”

“Fuck me, Maitimo.”

You’ve reached the end of your patience. You want him to hold you down, smother you, and fuck you until you’re shouting his name. He’s huge in more ways in one and it’s so thrilling— the burn, the stretch, the illusion of danger— how easily he could pin you to the bed and just fuck you straight through the mattress.

(And he makes you feel so safe. That whipcord strength bound in arms you can’t even get your hand around. Can’t even get both hands around— he’ll wrap himself around you. Engulf you. Nothing in the world can hurt you when you’re with him).

“Please, Maitimo,” you whisper again, reaching out to touch his cock. You can’t get your hand around that, either, and you love it.

He croons something comforting, sits back on his heels, lines himself up and starts to sink inside you inch by gorgeous, torturously-slow inch. When you gasp and sob and writhe at how good the stretch feels, and how much he’s filling up, Maedhros just takes your hips to hold you still. He can encircle your waist in his hands and have room to spare and that drives you both crazy.

“I don’t want it slow, Maitimo,” you tell him. You’re aching for it, still trying to twist your hips. Maedhros just lets go of one and splays his hand over your stomach, watching how it covers you entirely, pressing, pressing, pressing until he can feel his cock inside of you, how it’s rearranging your insides to make room.

“How well you’re taking it,” he breathes, and slams inside to the hilt in one snap of his hips that makes you scream.

[youreallyshouldtalkmore]

My Little Hybrid Family_Part 7

Twisted Wonderland Masterlist  

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

Leona growled, running his hand in through his hair,  “What the devil did you drag home this time?” 

“Hello! I’m Kalim!! What are your names?” 

Azul, Floyd and Jade stood in the living room of your home, their new home. Yes, they stood, they were now wearing the pendant that your parent’s friend had locked away. Leona laid on the couch, not bothering to get up as he looked on. 

Floyd grinned, “I’m Floyd and this is Jade! And that’s Azul!” 

“That’s Leona!” Kalim introduced, pointing over his shoulder at the lion, “And you already know Jamil!” He pointed to where he was standing next to you. Then he spread his arms, “This is your new home! If you have any questions, just asked. Our Mistress is amazing! You’ll love it here!” 

“That remains to be determined”, Azul spoke coolly crossing his arms. 

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

“You seriously brought a van?” squealed Kalim.  

You had went out that morning a week after Azul, Floyd and Jade had come to live with you, promising to have a surprise for everyone. Floyd and Kalim were the most excited. 

“Is it fun?” Floyd aked. 

“What is it?” Kalim almost yelled. 

Jamil was a bit more composed, but you could see curiosity swirling in the depth of his eyes. Azul still hadn’t stopped being suspicious, eyeing you in silent judgement, while Leona just yawned. 

“Yep! Our little family is growing! There is no way my car is going to fit everyone if we were going somewhere all together. Now we can! Which means, road trip!!” 

Kalim and Floyd almost dove into the van, while Jamil and Azul followed at a sedate pace. Leona had turned to go back into the house, but you grabbed his clothes before he could disappear. 

“You are part of this family too! Get in the car!” you chirped. 

“You do realize our family keep growing because you keep picking up strays, right?” he growled without any real heat. 

You fought hard not to laugh, “Take a look at your situation.” 

He grumbled before getting into the van as well. It only took about fifteen minutes before you pulled into Mr. Sam’s shop. You had no idea how a mom-and-pop store like his hasn't been brought out by now, but Sam would smile and just say it was thanks to his friends on the other side. 

Kalim gave a loud cheer when he saw the shop. It’s been ages since they’ve been here. He and Jamil were the only ones that had been to this shop. He loved hanging out here. 

Azul noted that Jamil had brought two small boxes with them that he passed to you once everyone was out. He couldn’t help but to briefly wondered what it was. Floyd and Jade were looking around in undisguised wonder. He snorted silently. A week in and already they were losing themselves to your so-called charm. He would be vigilant. He was not going to get tricked again. He wondered how long it would take for you to decide to ditch them. He hadn’t exactly been mean to you, but hadn’t been nice either. But strangely, you had taken his cool demeanor towards you in stride. 

Jamil only smirked at him. 

“You’ll get there.” Was all he said. 

Azul did not want to get there. 

Wherever there was. 

The bell rung at the shop as Kalim pushed the door open, followed closely by Floyd. 

“OOoooh…”, Floyd drawled, looking around at all the knicknacks. There was even stuff hanging from the ceiling. 

A voice finally sounded, “Hey my little imps!! It's been awhile!!” 

Kalim gave a giant wave as a tall man walked out followed by two more behind him, “Hello Mr. Sam!! Jack, Ruggie!!” 

The shop owner, Mr. Sam only grinned, “Oh my, you’ve been busy Miss Y/N. Has your family grown?” 

You nodded, “Indeed.” 

Sam spread his arms, “Welcome to my humble shop! We have everything and anything you could possibly want. There ain't nothing I don't have or cannot get. I even got things I haven’t even tried! Please browse and discover more than just parlor tricks. Jack! Ruggie!” 

Sam disappeared deeper into the store as the two stepped forward. Ruggie grinned as he saddled up to you, “Do I smell what I think I smell?” 

You played coy, “And what do you think you smell?” 

Ruggie smacked his lips as he eyed the box, “Something delicious, I hope.”  

You lifted the box, inviting him to take it, “You'd be correct.” 

He threw open the box and pulled one out, his tail giving a short wag, “Donuts!!! Thank you, Miss Y/N!!”  

“And this is for you, Jack.” You handed the other box to him. 

Jack's ears perked up when he opened and saw a small cactus. His tail wagged a little, “Thank you for your kindness, Miss Y/n.” 

You shook your head with a smile, “No need to be so formal. Now!!” You turned to the others, “Boys, time to pick out some things.” You turned back to Ruggie and Jack, “These three need their own sets of clothes.”  You pointed as the twins and Azul.  All they had to date were the clothes they had from their former owner. Why they even had their own clothes when she didn’t even allow them to shift into human form was beyond you, but okay. 

You noticed that Floyd didn't need an invitation as he darted further into the store and disappeared down an isle. Jade followed at a sedate pace, while Azul hung back. Kalim started chatting with Ruggie and Jack to catch up. You noted he had managed to pull Leona into the mix as well.  Meanwhile, Jamil had long since disappeared. 

You smiled gently at Azul who only gave a light sneer before walking further into the store.  You wandered into the back to chat with Sam for a little bit before deciding to make rounds and see how everyone was doing. 

You first came across Leona, who was still hanging with Ruggie and Jack. Kalim you noted had disappeared. You were surprised, but it was quite a happy sight for you. Then you noted that Leona had boredly snatched Ruggie’s hand away from his pocket. So Ruggie was still trying to pick pocket? Watch you faint in surprised. Which reminds you. You patted your own pocket where you had placed a small donut trinket you had found. 

Yep, it was gone. 

Despite being caught, Ruggie only laughed as Leona rolled his eyes. Jack was standing stoticly and shook his head. Both of them had been part of the black market of hybrids before landing with Sam. 

Because of Jack’s statue, he was forced into a lot of fighting rings. Those fights were do or die. Despite that, Jack didn’t like fighting and was the gentlest soul you knew. It seemed that Ruggie was a black market slave sold to the highest bidder. But he escaped and learned to be clever to survive. That was how he sharpened his pick pocket skills. You were happy to see they were both settled in, working at Sam’s shop. They were safe there. If anywhere was a safe haven for stray hybrids, it was Mr. Sam’s shop. 

You walked on. 

“Ooh, put this on!! Oh, they got three!” 

That was Floyd and you followed the voice to see the twins and Azul wearing identical fedora hats. 

You couldn’t help yourself, “Sharp! Sharp!!” 

Azul almost jumped while Floyd laughed, “Don't you think? We are getting them! Shrimpy what do you think of these glasses on Azul?”  

Azul absently pushed them up on the bridge of his nose, “I don't exactly need them, Floyd.” 

“Yes, but it makes you look smart, just like those businessmen.”, Jade offered. 

Azul hissed at him, once glancing at you. 

You spoke, “They look very nice. Very you. Adds more character. Get them if you like them.” 

“See!! Shrimpy said so! We are getting them!” Floyd said before pulling Jade and Floyd off. Azul offered more verbal protest, and you decided to go in the opposite direction. 

You came across Jamil busy at the spice rack, while you passed Kalim looking at jewelry. When you next came across Azul he was alone, intensely into a book. You made sure to make noise as you walked. 

“For the last time Floyd, I…” he stopped abruptly when he saw it was you. 

“Something interesting?” 

“Maybe…”

You peered at the title Business Acumen. 

You looked back at him, “Jade said you were interested in business?” 

“Jade should have kept his mouth shut.” Azul mumbled, “I'm just interested in understanding you humans.” he pushed his glassed up. You realize they had already become a part of him. “If I do that, I will never be taken advantage of again.”

“And that requires a business sense?”, You questioned. 

Azul pursed his lips. You shrugged, opting not to push anymore, “Buy it if you like it… “

Without another word, you walked off. When it was time to pay up, you were pleased to see that there was a nice little haul. The twins and Azul got new clothes, but it seems everyone got something they like for pleasure as well. You were shocked to see a body pillow suddenly thrown into the pile. You looked up to see Leona glaring down at you as if daring you to say something. You glanced to see Ruggie grinning. 

“Hey, seems little Ruggie manage to sell you on something.” spoke Sam not missing a beat,  “Good, I will charge it right up!!” 

You would have paid to know how Ruggie managed to get Leona to buy this for himself. You were grateful, and honestly it was something that you knew Leona would use. In fact, you were happy that Leona, Azul and the twins all got something they liked especially for their first time here.  Since arriving, Leona had refused to go back outside. You were the one that figured out his measurements and got him new clothes. You noticed that he had also picked out a few outfits as well.  Once paid and bagged, Jack had packed everything in the trunk. 

Sam waved from the front door, “Thank you little imps! Please come again!” 

“And bring donuts!!” Ruggie shamelessly asked. 

As you were pulling out of the parking lot, Floyd remarked, “That was so much fun!!” 

“I'm glad you enjoyed it. How about you, Leona?”  

Leona gave a pointed yawn, “Ask me after nap time.” 

You smirked. You knew he was excited to test out his new pillow. Azul was already buried in his new book. Floyd had managed to find some plushies. He got a shrimp one and Jade had a mushroom one. A bag of spice sat in Jamil’s lap. He had a small smile on this face as he looked out the window. You knew he was planning a menu. Kalim talked about his new throw rug he found this time as he continually rotated through his new bracelets. 

You were happy that this trip was as success. 

If your hybrids were happy, then you were too. 

Part 8

[storms-path]

WoLyse Week 2024 Day 1 - Friends

Arashi stood at the door with a clenched, trembling fist inches from the solid oak. Inwardly she cursed herself for the coward that she was, but she couldn’t get her hand to move. Couldn’t bring herself to knock. She couldn’t even say why, just that something was holding her back. Perhaps the sound of Yda’s sobs from the other side were part of it. Or perhaps she was simply too afraid to reach out again.

A much larger part of it was the gradually calming chaos that had recently preceded everything. Minfilia’s abduction. Nabriales’s end. Moenbryda’s… She couldn’t complete the thought. Her mind refused to accept that she was gone. It couldn’t be true. She’d wake up in a few hours and realise it was all a terrible dream. She’d not have another name to lay at her feet. Another face to stare at her from the other side. I did this. I’m the reason you’re…

Y’shtola huffed from behind Arashi, breaking her out of her spiral. “Really now, if you must act as a glorified doorstop, you could at least do so without such a stricken look on your face.” Arashi whirled, all trepidation melting away to fury. How dare she act so nonchalant, knowing what just happened? Did the miqote have no heart at all?

Then the fury melted too. The red rims around the mage’s eyes were plain to see, her grief for once undisguised. Still, Y’shtola managed a tight smile. “Go to her. ‘Tis plain to me that she needs a friend, and I can think of none better than you.” Y’shtola planted her hand firmly on Arashi’s chest, then shunted her forward into the door with strength that belied her slight frame. Then she was gone, quicker than Arashi could mouth a protest. The heavy thud of her body was enough, though.

“Come in,” said a trembling voice, then again with a half-hearted attempt to put some strength into it. “I’m alright, really, but come in anyway.” Well, no going back now… With a steadying breath, Arashi opened the door... Then just as swiftly shut it behind her, trying not to gasp. Yda was, for the first time that Arashi had seen her, unmasked. And despite the tear-stained eyes, there was no hiding the brilliant blue that stared back at her.

Later, a good deal later, Arashi would realise that this was the moment she fell in love. As Yda managed a smile as she saw who her visitor was. As her face lit up despite the grief. As Arashi found herself mesmerised for just a moment too long. Then reality broke in again with a tide of awkwardness, forcing a polite cough from Arashi as she struggled to find the words.

“Well, I… That is, you… I… Ithoughtyoumightwantcompany!” Not her best effort, but it worked well enough to get a soft chuckle from the other woman. Yda patted the bed next to her, shifting a little to let the au ra have some space. Arashi willed her body to move again, eventually succeeded.

Yda leaned into her almost immediately, once again freezing Arashi up until she tentatively put an arm around the other woman’s shoulder. She could feel the tension in the pugilist’s muscles. “Thank you,” Yda murmured. “I’ll be fine, really, but thank you anyway. It means a lot, you being here.”

Arashi nodded mutely, not quite trusting herself to speak. For a little while they sat in silence, aside from the odd sniff from Yda. Then, begrudgingly, Arashi broke it.

“I can’t believe she’s gone.”

Yda nodded, so Arashi continued. “She always seemed like she was invincible. Like nothing could topple her. At least, that was the impression I got. And I know that I barely knew her a few weeks, but…” Arashi trailed off. She couldn’t say the rest. Couldn’t admit the fear. Couldn’t confess the terror that if Moenbryda could fall, so could anyone else. So could…

“Don’t die.” Yda’s words were barely whispered against Arashi’s shoulder, but the heat in them was immense. “Don’t you dare. I’ve already lost Moenbryda, I can’t lose you too.” The shake in her voice was undeniable. But so was the steel. “You’re my best friend. The only person who properly understands me. The only one aside from Papalymo I’d trust with my life without question. So don’t die.” Yda choked down a sob. “Please.”

Arashi’s arm tightened around Yda out of reflex. A shared terror yawned wide between them, the world shrinking down until it was just the two of them. “I won’t.” Arashi noticed the wobble in her own voice, carried on anyway. “I promise.”

Yda’s eyes met Arashi’s, burning bright with fresh tears and resolve. “Good. Then I won’t either. We’ll watch each other’s backs, we’ll never let anyone hurt the other, we’ll fight and fight and fight until nobody can even try to stand against us. We will.” Yda sealed the speech with a firm nod. For just a moment, Arashi believed her. She leaned her head against Yda’s, scale pressing against skin. A moment of intimacy she’d never have dared before, but it felt right. It felt…

She didn’t quite realise they were kissing until a moment after their lips touched. She thought of pulling away, the shock overriding anything else, but her body overrode her mind once again. After an eternity Yda pulled away, eyes still bright and shining, but with more than just grief now.

Arashi took a shaky breath, not quite trusting herself to look the Ala Mhigan woman in the eyes. “We… We should talk about what just happened. L-later, I mean. When we’re not… you know.”

For a moment Yda looked like she wanted to protest, then nodded. “Yes. We should. I’ll come find you. But…”

Whatever Yda was going to say next was cut off by a sharp knock at the door. “Yda, do hurry! Moenbryda’s service is soon to begin!” Papalymo’s voice cut sharply through the silence. Arashi counted her blessings that he hadn’t seen her enter the room. She’d have to thank Y’shtola later.

Yda took a moment to collect herself, then replied with a brittle, “Be right there!” Then she was putting on her mask again, smiling apologetically at Arashi. “Next time,” she said, smiling.

Arashi nodded. “Next time.”

They had plenty of time to clear the air, after all. What was the rush?

[sleepyowlwrites]

FTWT CCCLXXIX

from many moons ago, thanks, Ghosty. @zmwrites

handle (youth story supplemental)

“It was bound to happen. My scarf, my hot cocoa, I guess it’ll be my heart that goes next. I’m doomed to be the victim of thievery.”

Nyks and Cal dropped their hands so they could glare at R instead.

Evie took another sip of the cocoa and said primly, “You wish.”

R opened his mouth and then paused. “Actually, I don’t think I do. I don’t think I could handle you barging in and messing up the place. Please don’t steal my heart, like, ever.”

Evie crossed her heart. “I promise.”

tonight (youth story d0)

“Do you guys want to come over for dinner? My mother isn’t home and I don’t want to be lonely.”

R let Nyks play with his fingers while he perched next to him on the arm of the chair. “You sure you want all of us coming over? Would you rather just steal Nyks so you can cuddle him to sleep tonight?”

Daniel nodded, not even trying to deny it. “Yeah, but Evie loves eating my food, and if Nyks comes over he’ll tell her about it, so before I hear any complaining about favoritism, I’m formally inviting you first.”

“I accept,” Nyks said happily.

next (youth story d1)

“You know I don’t prefer when you buy me clothes,” Mark said, moving on to the next box so he could judge the mentioned shirt on fair terms.

“But I also know that you’ll wear them anyway, and I can’t help it. Buying clothes for my friends is one of my love languages.”

Mark found the shirt and ran his fingers over the fabric. It was soft, and the print was subtle. But it was blue, and bright, and Mark was unaccustomed to wearing such shades. “This is a Nyks shirt.”

Daniel sighed. “Yeah. He picked it out.”

Oh. That was different then.

personal (youth story d0)

It didn’t help that the confession had been delivered in such a profoundly confusing way, at once arrogant and apologetic.

“I was just a person to you, I didn’t matter, and that stung, so I decided I despise you and you let me, but your cooperation in this feud is no excuse for my absolutely horrid behavior, using you as my personal punching bag, so for all of it, for every terrible insinuation and every fight, I am so sorry.”

And then R had fallen silent, his own hands stuck in his pockets and gaze occasionally flitting to the side, but expression resolute as he waiting patiently for Mark to form some kind of response. But Mark had nothing to say. Not because he wasn’t sorry himself, but because sheer amount of visceral, undisguised emotion radiating outward from R’s entire being was intimidating, horrifying. Mark had never wished to see R like this, open and hurting.

change (youth story supplemental)

His fingers rub at one of the buttons. Roland licks his thumb afterward. The lemonade was perfectly made, too. Callum has long since mastered the art of refreshing summer drinks, and his lemonade is no exception.

“Maybe I should keep this on and smell sweet all day.” He turns around in time for Callum to throw a damp towel at him. It lands neatly on his head. “Thanks?”

“For the stickiness,” his brother clarifies, his smile goofy and wide. “Just wipe your face and change your shirt. You can’t drink lemonade through your skin even if you try really hard.”

Roland scrubs at his chin. “How did you know that was what I was thinking?”

rise

call (continuing on from the above)

Callum places his hands on his hips, balanced on one leg with the lemonade spill beside him, soaking into another kitchen towel. “I know everything.”

“You’re a dirty sneak, Caldridge, get out of my head.”

“Call me by my proper name and I’ll consider it.”

Roland tosses the towel back and it lands in a heap with the others. “Your name is Cal,” he says, words floating softly in the air.

Cal continues smiling, brighter than the day outside. “And yours is R.”

proud (youth story supplemental)

Cal stood next to Nyks, less bundled and also less spellbound, but watching Nyks was almost as fun. Even if Cal was the youngest of the group, Nyks was still someone he could feel protective of and care for greatly. The absolute delight all over Nyks’ face was making Cal’s heart thump with proud, fond beats.

“You’re adorable.”

Nyks stopped gazing upward to glance at Cal, still delighted while also cutely confused. “You can’t say that, you’re the baby.”

“Do I not have eyes?” Cal shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned his face in closer. “I think I do. And I’m pretty sure they’re looking at an adorable Nyks right now.”

“Look,” Nyks said, getting a little disgruntled now.

“I am.” But Cal was smiling so sweetly that Nyks would’ve had to bite his tongue to make himself feel actual disappointment.

I behoove you to find answer, allow, admit, ache. BONUS: alleviate, askew. @cwritesfiction @the-orangeauthor @writing-with-melon @flock-from-the-void @emelkae OR ANYBODY (or nobody, if you don't feel like it)

[wordsbyarwen]

Happy Flunktober day 10?

Today’s prompt is from @flufftober: love language.

A little quality time for Yennaia. ~800 words of fluff, fluff, and more fluff

“You do take your sweet time, don’t you?”

Yennefer lifts her eyes to the mirror and flashes a grin. “You know I can’t help myself.”

Tissaia has a point though, so she leans over the woman’s shoulder to set the brush down on the vanity. She runs her fingers through the length of Tissaia’s hair, finding no snags, and breathes satisfaction. She doesn’t get to do this often; she can’t resist savouring it. And Tissaia knows, of course—watches her in their shared reflection, expression softening at Yennefer’s undisguised contentment. Yennefer meets her eye again, and this time the smile that tugs at the edge of her lips is almost, almost shy.

When she returns to the task at hand, it is with an unrivalled single-mindedness. 

The back of a comb parts Tissaia’s hair neatly into sections. Yennefer smoothes the hair against her scalp, sets to plaiting the thick chestnut waves with no more efficiency than the brushing. She likes the feel of Tissaia’s hair in her hands—the sleek weight of it, the way Tissaia relaxes into her touch despite any complaints she may have about Yennefer’s lackadaisical speed. The knowledge that she is the only one who sees this side of Tissaia. 

It’s relaxing, too, this methodical weaving of strand over strand—Tissaia’s slow, even breaths and the stillness in the room.

It is a gift they give to each other, despite Tissaia’s original hesitation to let someone else do her hair, and in spite of any complaints she might make about the length of time it takes Yennefer to finish. Because as much as Yennefer enjoys doing Tissaia’s hair, Tissaia too enjoys the touch, though she’ll never admit it in as many words. She has always reserved physical contact for occasions that warrant it; for Tissaia, touch has meaning and weight. There’s a heady indulgence to times like this, to the trust and the abundance of tactile sensations.

Yennefer finishes the first plait, starts on the next. Weaves just as slowly, just as methodically, smoothing the sections of hair all the way down to the ends so as not to allow any tangling between the strands.

Tissaia often watches her; today, her eyes flutter shut and she sighs softly, contentment settling across her own features as Yennefer works.

When the plaits are done, Yennefer twists them together with a now-practised finesse, looping one over the other to form Tissaia’s signature chignon. She places the pins carefully; as much as Yennefer likes seeing Tissaia a little less put-together, it won’t do to have her hair falling down before the day is through. 

Yennefer steps back to admire her handiwork. Satisfied that the chignon is secure and that the pins and the ends of her braids are tucked out of sight, she hums softly and steps forward again, placing her hands on Tissaia’s shoulders. Tissaia’s eyes are open now, and she arches a brow when she meets Yennefer’s eyes, a gleam in her own that makes Yennefer flash another grin. She bends, presses a kiss into the space below Tissaia’s jaw.

“I did a wonderful job,” Yennefer murmurs, lips tickling Tissaia’s skin when she speaks.

Tissaia makes a quiet tutting noise, tilting her head towards Yennefer to force her to pull away. “I’m sure you did,” she says as Yennefer withdraws with a pout. No matter how many times Yennefer does her hair for her, she’ll always assess it; it’s in her nature. She does so now, reaching back with both hands to circle the chignon, feeling for flaws with deft fingers.

She makes a thoughtful noise, then stands, turning to face Yennefer with her lips curled into the smallest smile of approval. Framing Yennefer’s face with her hands, she tilts her chin upward, and Yennefer lowers her face to meet her in the middle. The kiss Tissaia presses against her brow is expected, but the display of tenderness solely for her still makes Yennefer’s heart thunder after all this time.

“You did a wonderful job,” Tissaia echoes in affirmation, lips twitching into a brighter smile. “Thank you.”

Yennefer raises her eyebrows playfully, scooping Tissaia’s hands away from her cheeks and dipping her head to brush a kiss against the woman’s knuckles. “My pleasure.”

Tissaia’s sigh of exasperation is full of fondness when she snatches her hand away from Yennefer’s with an imperious squaring of her shoulders. “Tch. Ridiculous girl.”

Yennefer’s responding snort is undignified at best. “Just remember,” she says, turning sideways and ushering Tissaia past with a little shove, “that you chose this. Now go; be Archmistress of Magic. I promise I’ll be much quicker about disassembling this when you return.”

Tissaia rolls her eyes, shaking her head minutely, but the smile on her lips is telling. “I’ve no doubt.”

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

Hello! I'm glad you liked my request for demons! Gregory, Cheslock, Joanne, and Edgar with a human s/o! I also happened to have requested Snake, Cheslock, Gregory, Joanne, and Charles Gray with a s/o who has snakes (at first I thought it didn't went through when you opened the ask box for requests before the demon one I sent in, but I'm so glad it did because your writing was as good as always ahh 😭)! If it's alright, could I request Snake, Joanne, Bravat, Hannah, and the triplets with a demon! s/o this time? More specifically, one that has the attributes of a snow leopard because they are so pretty and I find their habit of biting their tail to be adorable (there are pictures online if you're interested)! If not, then that is completely fine 😊 and to make things easier for you, I shall use these 💙🌹 to let you know it's me since you may see me a lot haha!

aaaaaaa thank you so much for those requests, I loved them both so much!!

definitely please never stop sending things in~

I did my best!! <3

Well, well, now… what an interesting person he has on his arm. Supernatural creatures in general are exciting to him, to the point that he would probably seek out a nonhuman S/O over a fellow human. And (Name)? Why, they’re a precious little thing! How is he supposed to resist someone like that? Even after he’s been with them for a while, he’s still fawning over them. Quietly, of course. Despite that most things about their human form are perfect, they do have small spots all over… they’re faint, but enough for him to be able to trace if he ever feels the urge to do so in public. And, given that they only have their tail out in private, seeing them bite it — that makes him feel like there’s a side of him that only he gets to see. He teases them to no end about it by whispering in their ear while the two of them are around others.

Oh, no, what a sweetheart. She has quite the adorable partner, doesn’t she? Honestly, she never thought that she would end up having another demon as her S/O. She’s always preferred the company of humans; other demons tend to be cruel and selfish. (Though, so can some humans.) One thing she’s thankful for is that she can be herself around them. There’s no need to hide or fret about when she’s going to reveal her true nature. Besides, they’re just… adorable. She’s got a soft spot for cute things like them. She loves that they don’t need to hide around her; as long as Alois doesn’t care about his servants showing their demonic forms unless they must blend in, she gets to see the true, undisguised (Name), all the time. And the tail biting? Aaah, she’s squealing in silence.

Oh, good heavens, a demon?! To say he’s terrified of the idea at first is an understatement. He’s grown up thinking that demons are nightmares, beasts from hell, and that all they do is sow chaos and discord. That one is actually loving and acts incredibly soft with him… it’s… it’s a surprise. But, it’s a pleasant one. There’s something humbling that someone like them wants to spend time with someone like him. It makes him very happy indeed! Of course, there’s the small issue that… he’s allergic to cats. (And, well, everything with fur.) That said, if they stay in their human form, he finds it isn’t so much a bother. And they’re so… beautiful. He could stay awake running his fingertips over their markings forever. While he won’t really encourage the tail biting… well… as long as it isn’t hurting them… they’re so precious!! He covers his face and almost blushes himself to death every time he sees them doing it.

(Oh, hm, well. They’re sort of like you in a way, aren’t they?) Well, no, it’s not exactly the same, Keats. Although he’s well aware that being a demon who happens to have animal traits isn’t the same as whatever he is… Snake can’t help feeling a little closer to his S/O upon discovering their real nature. He’s never met anyone who’s like him in this way. The markings, the behaviors, it’s all so endearing — it reminds him of the way that he’s like snakes. Despite not finding it endearing in himself, he finds it quite adorable in (Name). Is that… maybe… how they see him…? If nothing else, he’s glad that he met someone who’s similar to he is, even if it’s not the same, even if they’re a demon, even if they sometimes do strange (and admittedly cute) things like biting their tail. They’re a phenomenal cuddler, and that’s something he thoroughly appreciates.

Oh… so… so different! What an odd and precious little thing they have on their hands. So many demons are based on dark things like ravens and spiders and, hm, what even is Hannah? What are they themselves?? Either way. One couldn’t get farther from those inky-black animals than a leopard which is mostly white and blue. For that, it draws the triplets in. Anything out of the norm gets their attention. It’s also safe to say all three of them feel very secure with another demon… they’ve got their S/O, and they’ve got Hannah, and even Claude’s presence discourages any other demons from fucking around too close to the estate. However, they’re also willing to fight if (Name) needs to be protected. The tail biting thing? It’s an animal thing mixed with a demon thing, so they all tend to giggle about it and whisper amongst themselves how absolutely precious it is. The three of them love it when their S/O wants to be with all of them, even though they value separate times with (Name)… to them, it’s kind of sweet to have four demons (even if three of them used to be one person) in one big relationship. It’s… fun.

[28whitepeonies]

Louis Tomlinson on his new album, struggling with fame and a One Direction reunion

The boyband star on his love of rock music, finding his own voice outside of One Direction, losing close family and fame's strangest moments. (By Neil McCormick @ The Telegraph)

“Do you mind if I smoke?” asks Louis Tomlinson, tapping cigarette ash into an empty Coke bottle. “The modern man smokes a vape, apparently. But I still smoke ciggies. I’m a judgemental fucker, and I hate vapers.”

He'd kidding, but the former One Direction boyband star certainly does like a cigarette, getting through half a dozen during an hour-long encounter in a hotel boardroom that reeks of stale tobacco. “Maybe I drink too much for a singer. Maybe I smoke too much for a singer. But it can be quite demanding, this life. So, for me to have those little vices, it’s important.”

Tomlinson is getting ready for the release this week of his second solo album, Faith in The Future. He seems both nervous and excited. “The lows are lower in a solo career, but the highs are higher,” he suggests. “Because you are not one of 4 or 5 anymore, you have to take full responsibility for everything, so it hits you at both ends.”

Scruffily unshaven, in gym wear and trainers, the 30-year-old hops up to open a window, while chatting away in a friendly and engaged manner. “I never really chose this life,” he insists, with a strong Doncaster accent (though he lives in Hertfordshire now). “I auditioned for X Factor and crossed me fingers. And now, here I am.”

In 2010, at the age of 18, Tomlinson and four other young hopefuls (Harry Styles, Niall Horan, Liam Payne and Zayn Malik) were assembled into a boyband mentored by entertainment impresario Simon Cowell. Although they didn’t win the talent show, their impish appeal saw them rise to become the most successful manufactured group of the modern era, achieving levels of fan mania comparable to the early days of The Beatles.

Together for five frenzied years, 1D have scored four number one albums, sold more than 200 million records worldwide, notched up over 21 billion streams, won seven BRIT awards and their final tour in 2015 grossed over $200  million (£173 million) in revenue. For a time, Tomlinson’s floppy fringe adorned teenage bedrooms all over the planet. There was considerable hysteria when 1D said they were taking a “hiatus”, citing exhaustion.

A reluctant solo artist: Louis Tomlinson (centre) was upset with One Direction's decision to separate in 2016

Tomlinson was the oldest member (two years Styles’s senior) with the shakiest voice but adored by fans for his genuine smile, wacky fashions and undisguised pleasure at being part of the gang. Styles had a cheeky swagger, Malik was the sensuous R&B singer, Horan the folkie-next-door, whilst Payne was a cocky Jack the lad (whose solo career has been a bit of a washout). As time went by, Tomlinson shed insecurities to get more involved in songwriting, helping push 1D’s pop rock side.

Faith in the Future (out on Friday) dials up the guitars, building on his chart-topping 2020 solo debut album Walls, inspired by Britpop and indie, the music of his pre-fame youth. “I used to spend all my Friday nights in this place called Priory, it was fucking unbelievable: £10 all you can drink! That’s been banned now. It was in that bar where I fell in love with guitar music.”

Although he retains a fondness for a big chorus, it is not a sound you would particularly associate with 1D. “I don’t relate to right-down-the-middle pop,” he admits. “But I wouldn’t say that was dumbed down in One Direction. Maybe I dumbed it down myself. Maybe I assumed I couldn’t be exactly who I was.”

Tomlinson was the last of the five members to release an album, and reveals that he was a reluctant solo artist, upset by the band’s decision to separate at the height of their world-beating success in 2016.

“It was a bit daunting. I’d just got to a stage where I really started to feel like I found my rhythm, I was enjoying songwriting, I felt like I finally worked out where I am in that band. And then it’s like: ‘Okay, well, now we’re going on a break.’ So there was a bit of petulance from my end, I was frustrated.”

He admits that he has felt competitive with his former bandmates and been jealous of Styles’s enormous solo success.

“I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother me at first. Only ’cos I didn’t know where to place myself, and really my only point of reference was other members of the band. But it’s not surprising to me that Harry's the most commercially successful because he really fits the mould of a modern star.

"He’s not just doing music, he’s got film as well, and the (stadium) tour he’s done is unbelievable. It took me a while to work out where I stand. But I look on Harry like a brother, man. I have a lot of pride for what he’s doing.”

He says band members are quietly supportive of each other. “I’m sure the lads will text me when the album comes out, we check in on each other, we’re good like that. I bumped into Niall (Horan) at Glastonbury, and even though we hadn’t spoken all year, it was like absolutely no time had passed. Because we've lived through such experiences together in One Direction, this bond that we have is for life.”

Louis Tomlinson with his mother Johannah Deakin who died of leukaemia in 2016

Tomlinson has had other issues to focus on. In 2016, his mother Johannah Deakin, a midwife, died from leukaemia, aged 43. His parents separated when he was a child, and Tomlinson is estranged from his father, a hotel manager. He has seven younger half-siblings, one of whom, Félicité Tomlinson, died of an accidental drug overdose in 2019.

“I’m coping good, man,” he says. “I’m a glass half-full person because what’s the alternative? I’m not saying that there have not been some dark days, because there have. But I had a really lovely upbringing, and my mum was as good as gold.

“Even though she’s not here anymore, I wouldn’t want her to feel guilty for what happened. She wouldn’t want that to define my life and my happiness.”

He also feels a sense of responsibility to his family. “I’m the oldest of all my siblings, and I knew that I had to put on a brave face.” Nonetheless, Tomlinson, who is also father to a five-year-old son, whom he shares with his ex-girlfriend, confesses wariness when it comes to talking about it. “It carries its own weight emotionally and I’m wanting to escape that because I don’t want people fucking feeling sorry for me.”

He addressed grief on 2019 single Two of Us, but has consciously sought out more upbeat subject matter for Faith in the Future, on songs including The Greatest, Lucky Again, Out of My System and mercurial indie rocker Silver Tongues.

“I have become a bit of a soundboard for people’s grief, so I’m kind of stuck between a rock and a hard place. Because if I can help other people just from a little conversation about my own individual experience, that’s great, I really want to be there to help. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel a burden.”

Tomlinson has been thoroughly enjoying being back on the road. “Performing live was always my favourite thing. I’ve had to build it back up, because I’ve never toured on my own, I had to relearn my craft and what the show needed. So it’s not as if I went into small theatres and thought, I used to play Wembley stadium, I’ve fucking failed! I was having too much fun.”

He jokes about not even noticing if there has been any change in the level of luxury as he has shifted from one of the biggest bands in the world to a solo artist determined to prove himself.

“Hotel rooms can be kind of lonely when you’re moving all the time, so it doesn’t matter how luxurious it is. I sleep on the tourbus, cause that’s where my band are, so its really social. It’s a fucking lovely tourbus!” Next year he will be back onboard, touring Britain’s arenas. “It’s all going the right way, and I’m thankful to be here, doing what I love. It doesn’t feel as manic as it did in One Direction, but I still get recognised everywhere I go, so not much has changed.”

Like many stars, he’s conflicted about fame. “It’s something I have struggled to deal with over the years. If I go to the pub with me mates and we’re having a drink and being social, it doesn’t matter if just one person stops and is like, ‘Oh it’s Louis, can we have a picture?’ It takes me outside of that normality. Just one photo can kind of bug me for the next half hour. But I’m still ambitious, and if that means raising the temperature (of fame) again, it’s a little bit daunting, but that’s the life.”

There have been some exceedingly odd aspects to being a boyband superstar. A strand of online fan fiction imagined a passionate affair between Tomlinson and Styles, which was subsequently depicted in a graphic, animated sequence on hit HBO series Euphoria. Another piece of 1D fanfiction is being adapted for forthcoming movie The Idea of You, starring Anne Hathaway as an older woman having an affair with a boyband star.

“It’s weird, all that shit,” tuts Tomlinson, disapprovingly. “But there’s not much you can do about it. I’d rather they didn’t, like, but it is what it is. I won’t be watching it.”

Tomlinson is excited about his new music, raving “I can imagine some of these songs being on albums by bands I would have listened to as a kid. It took me a second to find my feet after One Direction, and realise I need to be brave enough to embrace what I love.”

He says he thinks about success differently now. “Its all about musical fulfilment. When you’re one of four or five, it's hard to express yourself as an individual. This music is who I am.”

He still expects One Direction to eventually reunite. “When you look at it on paper, it’s like, ‘How the fuck’s it all gonna fit back together?’ We’re all making very different music, doing our own thing, all busy all the time. So I don’t see anything happening for at least another 10 years, but you never know. It looks pretty jumbled. But I think there is a world where it all kind of fits together.”

[thearchivistsjournal]

Day 321,

Author's Notes / Content Warning: Receiving confirmation of the loss of a loved one. Mention of implied (accidental?) suicide.

I swear Theo intentionally makes himself hard to find as some sort of flex.  A “you don’t find him, he finds you sort of thing.”  I wonder if he thinks that impresses people, makes him look powerful and mysterious while establishing him as the dominant party in any exchange.  Really it’s just petty.

But yeah, anyway, I went looking for Theo this afternoon as we’d discussed yesterday and it was pretty much a repeat of the first time I - 

Oh, you have got to be kidding me.

*******

What do I even say about all that?  

Just recount it from the beginning I guess.

I was in the upper level of the library writing my prior entry when Theo came knocking on the door.  My exasperation over his dramatic timing was offset only by the slim pleasure of taking a petty victory in having latched the door to keep him from walking in unannounced like last time.  

When I opened the door he said that keeping it locked was a funny way of showing hospitality to an invited guest.  I said there was a reason for that, beckoned him inside, and closed and re-latched the door behind him.

Then I told him Maiko was here and wanted to talk to him.  She’s still uneasy about having her presence known so best to take steps to avoid anyone else walking in unexpectedly.  As we descended the stairs into the archive I mentioned that Cassandra was here as well.

If Theo felt any surprise at any of this he showed none of it.

Cass and Maiko were in conversation about something, but whatever it was they cut off abruptly when they noticed Theo.  Maiko assumed a look of unreadable distance that I couldn’t help but wonder if she’d picked up the trick of from Lin.  By contrast, Cass glared at the old guard with undisguised anger.  A tense silence began to form only to be abruptly cut short by Theo looking at Maiko and stating that he’d been told she wanted to talk to him.

In the pause that it took for her to find the words to form her question I stepped past Theo at the bottom of the stairs and took my place by her side.

Maiko asked Theo if he knew of any others like her.

He said there were no others like her.

There it was.  Short, blunt, and anticlimactic.  Told that all that searching and planning and hoping had been pointless in the same tone of voice one might comment on the weather.  The sky is blue, the awning over Norman and Marva’s door is green, Maiko is alone.

I found myself speechless trying to process that.  

Maiko let out a soft “Oh.” 

Cass asked how Theo could possibly even know that.

He said that he’s aware of every time someone enters or leaves this world, whether they are born, wash up, die, are taken by the shades, or otherwise in either direction.

I’ll say this for Cass’s anger, it kept her sharp enough to be skeptical and keep asking questions.  She expressed doubt toward that claim and asked what proof he had.  Did he have an artifact or something he could show us?

He admitted that he had nothing so concrete as that.  He then proceeded to recite a list of names and times and places of birth and funeral.  Or in the case of outsiders, washing up and disappearing.  More than a few of those outsiders arrived far from the Village and never found it.

Cass said that didn’t prove anything.

Theo looked to me and I reluctantly admitted that I recognized a number of the names and dates from the archive.  But that didn’t prove anything beyond a good memory and the guile to mix in a few unverifiable made up ones.  And he has motive enough to give a false answer to Maiko’s question: it makes for one less reason for any of us to go around digging in search of answers.

Cass echoed that point.

In response, Theo conceded that such a motive would be plausible and consistent for him, and as he’d said to me before, if he wasn’t hiding anything he’d tell us he wasn’t, and if he was hiding something he’d just lie and say the same thing anyway, and we fundamentally have no way of knowing for sure which is which or forcing a hypothetical truth from him even if we did somehow know he was lying.

But even he’s not cruel enough to lie to someone about something like this.

That’s when Maiko finally spoke up again and asked the question I’d been refusing to think about the already-implied answer to.

What about her parents?

For once, Theo’s face softened.  He slowly shook his head, said her mother’s  name, recited the location and date she’d washed up followed by the time and place she’d been taken by the shades.  Maiko had no father.

I can’t even imagine what Maiko must have felt then.  Is still feeling.

Theo then said he was sorry she had been left going on false hope for so long.  It always hurts more to lose the longer one clings to it and it was never his intent to leave her that long.  If she hadn’t run off so quickly the night we returned from Iole’s island he would have answered these questions then.  Or if she had come to the Village any time sooner.  But to stay apart was her decision and he intended to respect that until she was ready.

The absolute gall of that man.  For once in my short life I found myself moved to anger enough to shout at someone.  As if he hadn’t planned and anticipated every event of that night up to and including our reactions.  All as a punishment for going to Iole and seeking answers to this very question in defiance of his threatening message to turn around and come back to the Village.  As if he hadn’t engineered the exact scenario most likely to send Maiko running and the rest of us into downward spirals.  As if he hadn’t practically confessed to all of that by asking me “Was it worth it?”  How dare he ask that, knowing what he now claims to have known?  How dare he act like anything he’s done was out of respect for Maiko.

I’d gotten up in Theo’s unflinching face by the end of that.  His expression had reverted back from pity to impassiveness.  

I didn’t notice that Maiko had stood up and walked over to us until I felt her hand on my chest slowly but irresistibly pushing me aside.  She stood tall enough that she had to look down to meet Theo’s eyes.  Then she effortlessly lifted him high enough that she had to look up.

Her voice was a near-unintelligible growl as she asked why he didn’t save her if he knew.

In the same, matter of fact tone in which he answered her initial question, he said that even he can’t be everywhere at once or save everyone.  Not an apology.  Not an excuse.  Barely even an explanation.  Just a statement of how things are.

The sound Maiko made was more roar than scream.

I covered my ears in pain.

For a terrible moment I feared she would hurt him.

For a worse moment I hoped she would hurt him.

She dropped him.

He landed on his feet.  

Didn’t even have the courtesy to stumble.

Maiko slumped to her knees.

Theo said he wished he could have caused her less pain.

I told him to get out.

He turned around and began walking up the steps.

Cass asked what about the nightmares.

I said I didn’t care.

Theo stopped halfway up and asked without turning around how deep I’d gone.

I told him to get out.

He said if I’d reached the deep tunnels there was still hope if I focused hard enough on ascending, both asleep and awake.

I said I didn’t want his help.

He said if I’d reached the bone pit I might have a chance if I found something to anchor me and take into the dream with me, but everyone he knew of so far that sank that deep eventually threw themselves into the Endless Abyss or some other hole they thought would take them to the Catacomb Depths in the waking world.

I told him to get out.

He said that if I’d reached the lake, he was sorry.

I said nothing.

He left.

The rest of the evening was spent attempting to console Maiko.  I have no idea how to do that properly.  What do you say to someone who’s just been forced to give up hope that their only family might still be alive and also that there is no one else in the whole world that is like them?

When Cass tried to ask me how I was doing in light of those last few things Theo said I said I was fine and sent her to go get Vernon and Lin, or maybe even Pat.  Any of them would have more experience in helping the grieving than we did.

I need to talk to Cass tomorrow.  She shouldn’t have to deal with all this.

Maiko didn’t want to talk to Lin when she arrived.  Vernon she tolerated.  The rest of us gave the two of them space.

I continued to deflect when the topic of the Catacomb Depths nightmares came up.  Cass had told both Lin and Vernon about what Theo said at the end and they were understandably concerned.  We can talk about that later.  For now, Maiko takes priority.

Tomorrow’s market day, so there’s no class to miss.  Again.  Trying to explain yesterday’s absence this morning was already hard enough.  We took the opportunity to move Maiko back to the house after dark.  By “we” I mean me and Vernon.  Lin stayed behind and I told Cass to stay behind.  I said that Norman and Marva were probably wondering where she was by that point, but it wasn’t my real reason.

Now the blankets I once put out for Lin are now laid out for Vernon in that room I mostly use for paperwork and storage.  I think both of them are asleep by now.

I still can’t.

So, what do I even say about all that?

I’m sad.

I’m angry.

I’m scared.

If anyone asks, I’m fine.

<==Previous          Next==>

[epiphyllous]

Visitation Rights (Malleus/Reader) [1/3]

Malleus invites you over to help him celebrate Christmas, a human holiday. Neither of you think about what it all means for you to visit him, in the grand scheme of things (ft. Diasomnia). word count: ~3.8k notes: malleus x reader, gender-neutral reader "you", pre-relationship, mutual pining, you celebrate Christmas, heavily Diasomnia dorm!! (i love them)

[Part 2]

You breathe out a cloud of mist as you step out from the Dark Mirror and into an open field. You’ve been visualizing this very scenery as best as you could, chanting Briar Valley over and over, just to make sure you didn’t end up in the wrong place and get stranded.

You’re glad you decided to layer up as best as you could, heeding Malleus’ lukewarm warning that it ‘might’ be cold. And considering how much hardier a fae could be, well… You’re just glad to be able to use your winter boots and mittens for once. Though, your hands are cold for more reasons other than the temperature. 

One doesn’t visit the fae prince in his homeland without being at least a little nervous. (And one that you may have budding feelings for is another matter entirely.)

Malleus seemed eager to have you over to decorate his home for the holidays, excited to celebrate a ‘human’ tradition like Christmas. (And by eager, you mean insistent; and by excited, you mean, only to you. You doubt any of your other friends would understand his volley of questions about Christmas was Malleus being ready to celebrate.) You didn’t have the heart to tell him that your family hasn’t celebrated in years either aside from a few gift exchanges and holiday foods, but you suppose it isn’t like you’ve forgotten how to decorate a tree or make a few paper snowflakes. 

It’s only when you walk down the snow-lain path and lay your eyes on a grand stone castle that you remember that you really have other things to worry about besides the topping of the Christmas tree. Like being in a castle, for one. 

(You find it easy to treat Malleus like any other person because school is an equalizer in status. You don't see the fae prince at Night Raven College; you just see Malleus: technologically challenged, secretly needy, adorably curious, and deeply devoted. It is why you find it so difficult to remember who he is outside of campus.)

“What are you standing there gaping like a fish for, human?” Sebek asks, walking up to you with Silver beside him. 

You keep your mouth open. “I forgot the castle was huge,” you say lamely. 

“I don’t think the young master wants to decorate the entire place,” Silver says, saving you from saying what you actually meant– you forgot Malleus lived in a castle. (The amount of times you feel blindsided by a fact that is readily known to everyone– Malleus is a prince– is astonishing.) “Perhaps the dining room and a hallway.”

“...Right,” you settle for saying, glancing over at him. “Oh! Sebek!” You grins at him. “You’re in uniform! Very guardsman of you. Reminds me of the nutcracker outfit.” 

Sebek huffs, and you mildly think he’s like a peacock, preening. “Of course. One cannot slack on his duties as a guardsman on holiday” he says, looking over at Silver with triumph. 

Silver only sighs. “The young master requested we put on… holiday clothing. He didn’t have any examples, so I decided to just dress for the weather.”

“You look good in the blue sweater,” You say easily. “If you wanted to make it a ‘holiday sweater’ you just have to make it uglier somehow.”

“...Uglier?”

“Why are we just standing here?” Sebek interjects, and you can only sheepishly smile at him. “The young master will be waiting for us to return! Let’s not waste another moment!”

And off you go into a wintry wonderland.

.

In a land of fae, humans are rarely seen. A few decades can be nothing more than a blip in the long lives that they lead, which is why when Silver walks through the gates of the Fairy castle, some guards still stare at him with undisguised curiosity. As both a human and as a man endowed with a unique set of eyes and hair, his presence as the fae prince’s guardman gives him no break in scrutiny even though almost twenty years have passed. 

Considering the attention that Silver gets until now, it is no wonder that you draw the eyes of everyone in the near vicinity, especially as you walk through the castle as the fae prince’s esteemed guest. Are you royalty? Do you have any fae blood in you? Are you a powerful mage? (Perhaps someday.) It is the absence of all these, to make you completely normal, that makes you all the more curious to see.

You walk in between Silver and Sebek and pretend to not know they are watching.

“I’ve been wondering,” you say, as you walk past the main hall, “is the queen- erm, is Malleus’ grandma home?”

You almost bump into Silver the way he stops abruptly to turn and look at her. “You-” Silver gapes at her, and it’s the most visibly surprised you have ever seen him. “You want to meet the queen?”

“Malleus’ grandma,” you insist. “If she’s not home, it’s fine. I just thought it would be weird if she was home and I didn’t stop by and say ‘hi.’” You frown when Silver just continues to stare and wonders if you’ve gotten the family tree wrong.

…Or maybe it’s one of those things where it’s different because Malleus is royalty. 

“No? Is it weirder if I did meet her?” You continue, starting to get nervous at the silence from even Sebek. “Is she busy? I just don’t want her to think I’m being rude if I don’t come to greet her at least.” 

“Human, calm yourself,” Sebek says, huffing. If he looks partially impressed, he doesn’t say anything. “On most occasions, a visit to the castle would warrant an audience with the queen.”

“But she’s not here right now,” Silver says. He cracks a smile. “I should know better now than to be surprised you’re not afraid of meeting the Queen of Briar Valley.” 

“I never said I wouldn’t be,” you mutter. “I’d rather meet her than have her think I’m some delinquent student with no manners meeting her grandson.”

If Silver had any thoughts to share on this matter– that you were ridiculous for worrying over something like that instead of the possibility of offending a powerful queen– he didn’t share them. Instead, he watches you step into the dining hall repurposed for this holiday. “The young master told the guards to fetch the largest pine in the area,” he explains, amused at your evident shock. “So they did.”

“This is a three-day project,” he hears you say absently. Silver looks at the deep green pine that towers over them in a ten-meter loom and feels oddly proud for finding it. Sebek hasn’t stopped glaring at him for the past week for it.

.

Malleus is giddy. It is a word ill-befitting of his appearance and status, but there is no other explanation for his actions. 

Fae are not known to fatigue easily, but Malleus has not felt the need to sleep ever since you last told him that you were able to come to Briar Valley. Since then, he’s collected every appropriate ornament he could procure from human markets that celebrate Christmas– from stars to snow globes to these human-esque figurines they call ‘angels.’ For a holiday dinner, he asked Lilia for recipes (dubious) and mostly took long hours online trying to find some more. And if he’ll be honest, that’s the one part of his quest that has taken him the most time, as inept as he is with modern technology such as the internet or the smartphone. 

He is getting better with how prolific his friends text him, but it still takes him the same amount for him to write one message back to you as it does for you to write ten. He finds that he does not mind that much though; he likes knowing that you enjoy his company to write to him as much as you do.

Oddly enough, even though he knows this, he finds himself… nervous when he’s been informed that you have arrived.

It will be his first time playing host to a guest, among others. Certainly, he’s had political guests from nearby lands; princesses, princes, and counts that he has had no choice but to memorize their names. But this is you: his friend, his underclassman, his– well, your presence definitely meant a lot more to him than any dignitary from a wealthy family. 

Malleus wants you to enjoy your time here.

He walks to the dining room where he can hear your voice rise in excitement, and the anxiety bleeds out in favor of the thought that he would see you again. The sight of the real you in front of him is better than any other image he could have conjured. 

“Malleus!” He hears you call out, and his smile follows after yours like the tide to the moon. 

.

You look at the lines of boxes of decor that Malleus has brought into the dining room with a brief thought that all of these must have cost a fortune. 

“Did you just find whatever you could about Christmas?” You ask, as a joke.

Malleus only nods. “Yes,” he says simply. “Do they suit the needs for our decorations?”

You find it hard to think anyone in the world who celebrates Christmas would be remiss with all the different types of decor that was in the room in neat boxes. Taking out one from the pile, you open it and do not bother suppressing a smile when Malleus, Silver, and Sebek, who cannot resist his own curiosity despite his aversion, peek over your shoulders to see what is inside. 

There is garland for miles, light fixtures for the tree and elsewhere, snow globes and socks to hang over the fireplace. Ornaments to hang on the tree, banners and wreaths to hang on walls and doors, and even figurines like nutcrackers and reindeer to place on a mantel. If there was ever a decoration to be used in Christmas, they are there in one of the many boxes that have been collected. 

You would have thought it would be overwhelming to deal with so many choices, but instead, you find yourself excited at the prospect of having the creative liberty to choose from a wide variety of decor. It helps that Malleus’ eyes are attentively taking in every single material you have pulled out, and that even Silver and Sebek are arguing about what decoration should be placed and in what order. 

“I think we can start with the tree first…” you say. “I think it’s the main event, so I figured we could do it since we’re all decorating it together.”

“Hmph, since you are the more knowledgeable one for this holiday, I will allow you to call the shots for today,” Sebek says, and you gleefully think that’s more than enough of a concession from Sebek than you could ever ask for. 

“Alright, so I think we should start at the top going down with decorations,” you list off thoughtfully, “do bigger decor, lights, then the ornaments…” 

.

It is not as difficult to decorate the tree as you would have thought. For one, as much as Sebek and Silver bicker (mostly Sebek), they work well together because they are simply competent in what they set out to do. There was a fuss as to what garland should be placed on, but considering the size of the tree, it wouldn’t have mattered if everything was piled on. 

As the two flew around the tree to place the garland on, you work on untangling the Christmas lights from their boxes, which seems to be a difficulty even with magic involved. 

“Urgh…” You huff, dropping your arms in exhaustion from carrying what feels to be tons of lights. “No matter how well I packed them, even at home, they always end up all messed up like this.” 

“Yes, these… wires seem susceptible to being entwined,” Malleus agrees. “And you say that they are supposed to be lit up based on… electricity?” 

“Not too much,” you reply. “Or else you fry the light bulb’s circuit. See that tiny wire in the middle of it all?” You smile when Malleus bends down and peers closer at the Christmas light in your palm even though his hands are full of them. “We’ll want to connect it to an outlet with enough amps to power them without-” 

Your eyes widen. “Wait, you don’t have any outlets, do you? You always use magic! I can’t believe I forgot-”

Malleus takes a gloved hand and places it on the metallic prongs on the end of the wires, and the Christmas lights turn on. 

“I see what you mean by not putting too much power into it,” Malleus comments, as though you aren't looking at him with a look even brighter than the lights. 

.

“My, my,” Lilia says, whistling as he enters the dining hall. He looks at the tree which is partially decorated with garland and lights and nods in approval. “It seems the four of you are having fun. How’s the progress?”

“It’s… going,” you say mildly. “We’re going to put the ornaments on soon, but I think we’re a little stuck on what theme we should be going for?” 

Lilia blinks. “Whatever do you mean? It looks fine to me so far.”

“I know, but we’re arguing on what to put as a topper since that’ll finish the look, so-”

“Obviously,” Sebek says, “a statue of the young master should be on top.”

“And how would we get that?” Silver replies, voice even with the familiarity of arguing with Sebek. “We have other things we can choose from. We have a star,” a golden one, “an… angel,” with wings and halo, “this snowman,” with a top hat, “or this… old man with a red and white suit.” 

“That’s Santa,” you pop up. “We usually tell the kids in our town that he would bring presents on a magical sleigh pulled by a few reindeer, and he would climb down the chimney to drop the presents off underneath the tree.”

“How would he fit down each chimney?” Malleus asks, hand propped on his chin thoughtfully. “What if the house has no chimney?” 

“Well-”

“That is besides the point!” Sebek says fervently as you grins at him sheepishly. “If we place a symbol of the young master on top of the tree, the decor should be green!”

“Green on a green tree?” Silver sighs. “I’m not an interior designer but that won’t be as eye-popping as red or even silver and gold.”

“Sounds like quite the conundrum,” Lilia says lightly. If he is amused by how passionate the two guardsmen are over decorations for a human holiday they discovered not two weeks ago, he does not show it. “What does Malleus think?”

The four of them look toward Malleus who blinks at the attention. “How about a star on top? The decorations can be of any color, size, or shape as a result.”

Lilia claps his hands. “That’s settled.”

“Well, actually…” You say, trailing when the four Diasomnia members look at you. You bring up four different kinds of star toppers, much to half of their horror and to Lilia’s glee. “Which star do we want then?”

.

Malleus watches as you sit down in a huff next to him on the couch they dragged closer to the fireplace. You stretch your arms, saying something about snack-time as you both wait for Sebek, Silver, and Lilia to come back with much needed drinks and food for your break. Your shoulder and thigh end up touching his, and he finds that despite the fact they have plenty of room on the couch to be a distance from each other, he deigns not to mention it in case you decide to move away.

“Who knew Sebek and Silver would get so excited over ornaments,” you comment, laughter in your voice. It’s teasing when you address him, “They’re almost as excited as you to decorate the whole place up.”

There is always a funny feeling in his chest whenever you tease him– a mix of embarrassment and happiness to be known well enough to be spoken to so familiarly. He has yet to learn how to deliver a similar response back as readily as you do, but he is beginning to learn wherever he can. Besides, you don't seem to mind his straightforward comments.

“Yes, it is quite a surprise to me too. But I suppose it is hard not to be,” Malleus says, “when we have someone such as you to encourage and guide us.” He’s gratified when he sees you hide a pleased smile behind your hand. 

“Oh, stop,” you say, laughing, and he’s learned to understand that he’s welcome to continue his praise any time. “I’m so glad you decided to invite me to celebrate with you. This is the funnest I’ve had decorating for Christmas in ages.” You go to admire the tree and he turns to watch with you, only for him to look back briefly when he feels you lean into him, eyes still looking forward. 

He lets you lean, a small smile on his face.

.

Malleus knows that Silver and Sebek may sometimes have their qualms with his human choice of close companionship, but he feels grateful to know that they have your back in the face of Lilia’s cooking. 

You insist that you should try just a tiny bite, just to see what all the fuss is about, but all three of them are adamant about keeping you in the dark about the horror that lies behind Lilia’s gastronomy skills. Lilia is mildly confused but more than welcome to give more to the rest of the Diasomnia dorm if they are so eager to take your portion. Sebek blanches but stays true to his resolve, and even Silver, who looks tempted to fall asleep on the spot (or even pretend to if he cannot induce it) furrows his brows and bears it. 

Malleus should have known better than to think he would ever be able to stop you from doing what you want to do. 

You take a bite out of the gingersnap cookie faster than any of them can react. The four of them stare (three in apprehension, one in anticipation). You stop chewing after the third time and open your mouth. 

“Lilia… What did you put in this?”

“Oh, ginger, of course.” 

“...Anything else?” 

“...and garlic, all spice, honey, turmeric-” 

“I thought this was gingersnap?!”

You swallow your piece and take another just to be polite, but you and Lilia end up talking about the concept of a “balanced diet” and how not each dish has to be balanced to achieve a balanced diet. They aren’t sure if Lilia will get it, but perhaps an outsider’s opinion will finally change things for the better around here– and this thought is coming from even Sebek. 

Lilia seems thoughtful, not offended at all by the way you are framing the situation, talking about masking the aroma of the original dish by throwing in too many ingredients. When Lilia decides to try changing his style of cooking, they think perhaps the human legend of a Christmas miracle is real.

Change is not instant, unfortunately.

The other three, while Lilia is distracted, quietly slide their large portion of cookies to the serving plate and hope no one but them notices.

.

You don’t quite finish the tree that day, much to Sebek’s dismay. Your reassurance that you thought it would take more than three days goes unheeded as Sebek vows to complete the tree spectacularly tomorrow. 

Dinner at the Fairy Castle is a much quieter affair than you anticipated, but then again, your image of a castle is immensely more fairytale than what it seems to be. The five of them eat dinner deliciously set out by the chef, and the food, at least, is exactly how you imagined it to be. 

When Silver and Sebek turn in for the night, Lilia and Malleus show you to your room, and it's much bigger than any bedroom of yours have any right to be. The bed is a queen-size or king-size bed, though you can hardly tell the difference besides the fact it can fit more than four of you onto one. The view from the window is astonishingly grand, and the stars are clearly visible from this height even without a telescope.

Lilia bids you good night and it is just the two of you left in the room. You can feel your eyes drooping but you smile sleepily at Malleus who lingers at the door. "You wanna watch the stars before I fall asleep?" You ask and like clockwork, the two of you end up sitting by the windowsill, pointing at the constellations you can identify. 

Malleus, of course, knows much more than you do, having seen the same set of stars for the past century. You don't give up though, pointing out the other planets, hoping you actually remember the placement of them. It isn't long until you have him creating different constellations with you, playing connect the dots with much more celestial parts. In some ways, this is familiar— the way you guide Malleus through a silly detour to expand the way he looks at things.

"And there," you say, aligning the stars, "is the broom Azul keeps falling off during P.E."

"Is that so?" Malleus says in amusement. "How can you differentiate between brooms in the night sky?"

And this too– Malleus indulging in your sense of humor, playing along to the very end- has become a very familiar thing. He looks over to you with a focus that goes unnoticed as your eyes flutter in drowsiness. 

You can still giggle though. "It's because it's upright," you say, laughing at your own joke. 

Malleus likes this side of you too, partly delirious from sleepiness, inhibitions stripped by the presence of the dark and the way a day of hard work seeps into your bones. He thinks it's about time for you to fall asleep, though he would not mind staying up all night with you. “Are you falling asleep?” He asks, letting you lean onto him.

“I guess so,” you reply, yawning. You rub your eyes. “I’ll get in bed before I snooze on you.” You smile at him, and he only just resists telling you that he would be more than happy to lend his shoulder for you to sleep on. 

Perhaps another night.

“Good night, child of man,” Malleus says, watching you snuggle into a bed that more than dwarfs your figure. He hears you mumble a ‘good night’ and it is not long until you fall asleep.

You trust him to sleep in his presence; every time this happens, Malleus is still in awe. Your chest rises steadily with each breath you take, and Malleus takes his hand to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. He wishes you sweet dreams and makes the room dark.

Christmas is approaching. 

[gagmebucky]

“You’re a demon, you know that?” he breathes raggedly. “Acting like you’re so innocent when really you just wanted to provoke me into fucking you in front of all our friends. In the plain of day, fuck you full of me until it’s dripping down your thighs.”

in which bucky rails you in your sundress. (includes established relationship, dirty talk, mild creampie kink, unprotected sex.)

do not repost.

—

Your boyfriend is staring.

It’s nothing out of the ordinary. His gaze always ends up on you, a soft smile and adoration filled at the mere sight of you. But this time it's different, dark and openly obscene in the way he watches you, fixated on your every movement. 

All day, his gaze is burning hot. On an outing with your mutual friends, as you bounce and laugh in the mall, his eyes never divert from you. As you bounce and laugh with your group in the mall, he’s eyeing you like a hunter would its prey. When he’s staring at you like that, when he’s looking that good, it’s impossible to miss. 

You can’t pretend not to know why. You picked this outfit for that very reason. There’s a thrill in being a tease, feigning innocence in such salacious attire, waiting until that moment he realizes and can’t take it anymore. Because you’re definitely doing this on purpose; why else would you wear something like this?

The sundress fits you perfectly, a floral design that only reaches mid-thigh, thin fabric that strains against your nipples and ass, so flowy that you’d flash a stranger if you twirled a little too much because of course, you aren’t risking panty-lines. 

It’s the epitome of easy access—all he has to do is shove the dress up and slide inside. At any given moment, he can: take you, fuck into you to his heart’s desire (which aligns with yours), in front of everyone if he so pleases. You wonder when he’ll realize that; it’s only a matter of time, you know.

You’re laughing with your mutual group of friends when he does. When he can’t take your not-so-subtly teasing by simply being, you’re all on your way from the mall to an art museum that recently opened up. 

“Sorry, guys. She needs to use the bathroom. We’ll catch up in a second,” Bucky says—a convincing lie—and his arms corded around your waist herds you into the nearest restroom. Your friends shout something about texting when you’re finished, and the single stall door shuts. 

“But I don’t need to—oh—oh!” 

Immediately, he’s on you. Rough hands manhandle you onto the sink, your back bumping against the mirror while he unceremoniously hikes your dress around your hips, baring your center before him—there for the taking, and he knows that now. 

A groan ripples through his chest, an undisguised hunger alight in his eyes. “You love driving me insane, don’t you, baby?” he asks, unbuckling his belt and pulling himself free through that slit in his briefs. “Walking around, lookin’ like that with your pretty little pussy free, you enjoy testing my restraint.” 

If pretty is ever an appropriate description for a dick, then his is surely it. Swollen with desire, glistening in the bathroom’s dim lighting with need—reactive to all your little mannerisms, you’d do anything to please the ache ebbing through him. 

Your teeth catch your bottom lip. “I don’t know what you mean,” you breathe coyly. 

He chuckles. “That’s okay. You don’t need to know anything other than bouncing on my cock, anyway.” He hauls you forward, big palms full of your ass reeling you high on his waist, and slides inside you in one swift thrust. 

You squeak at being stuffed so deeply, buried to the hilt, and your channel immediately clamps down around the intrusion. He groans at the feel of you, warm and wet swathed around him like a vice, ready to milk the cum right out of him. 

He wastes no time, either. Once his cock burrows home, your pussy is guaranteed a pounding. It’s only natural for him to hammer away your tightness, vindicating that sensitive spot inside you, cockhead nudging it on every stroke. Girth and length, he knows exactly how to undo you. 

It’s a merciless onslaught, ebbing deeper and deeper, pubic bone bumping your clit, and all you can do is cling to him and take it. Your arms loop around his neck, chest to chest, your lips by his ear so he hears every moan and whimper you’re making. 

“You’re a demon, you know that?” he breathes raggedly. “Acting like you’re so innocent when really you just wanted to provoke me into fucking you in front of all our friends. In the plain of day, fuck you full of me until it’s dripping down your thighs.”

“Buck, please,” you gasp-whine-moan at his vulgarity, resounding in your abdomen with a clench of your inner muscles; it wrenches a groan from the base of his throat as he pummels your insides, the way you clamp like your body begging for his orgasm. 

“Oh, you’ll fucking get it,” he borderline growls on a particularly harsh thrust, and you moan. “Yeah, you’ll get it. Take every inch, every fucking drop like the pretty good girl you are. Spend the rest of the day stuffed with me. You got me, baby?” 

Your face buried into the crook of his neck and nod vehemently. The heat is burgeoning in your gut and consuming you whole, pulsing wildly around him. “Yes, yes. Cum inside me—please—please—!” 

He sheathes in until he bottoms out and explodes in thick spurts. Your name is a guttural groan, splashes of stickiness scorching your now swollen channel. In tandem, you cinch around him with your own orgasm, wringing all of the cum out of him until he’s moaning with sensitivity. 

When he pulls out, slowly and almost reluctantly, a flood of warmth follows, translucent white dribbling down your thighs. He watches with visible satisfaction, breathing hitching at the sight of your freshly fucked sex, swollen and oozing his essence. 

“Fuck, that’s hot, baby,” he says and sets you down. He smooths down your ruffled dress so you look somewhat normal but you’re dazed in an afterglow. A trail reaches the side of your left knee, and he takes it upon himself to swipe it up. “Open your mouth for me.” 

You do and happily suck his fingers clean, maintaining eye contact the entire time as your tongue laves around his index and middle digit. There’s a soft pop when you’re finished, and he smiles. 

“C’mon.” He outreaches his hand with a grin, and you intertwine it in yours. “I think I’m gonna fuck you in front of some million dollar paintings.”

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