#a “dead dove do not eat” / dark fantasy exploration thing

[zarathelonewolf]

Sorry for putting the written out loud part after the tags, but in the written out loud part I am merely gonna suggest a few plots one might use as reference that target loss of autonomy/vulnerability/violation which AREN'T SA/miscarriage/forced pregnancy/forced motherhood:

-Forced family. It could be that someone is kidnapped and forced to be a part of a family that does not let them leave; or maybe, they have always lived in this family, but they discovered a secret about the family and they want to leave but they don't know how. A theme that could be faced includes trauma of adoption, since for most people in the system it wasn't an event that went smoothly. It could also be a way to speak about the consequences of kidnapping and isolation. It is ultimately also a way of tackling abuse: you feel like you are forced into a family where it isn't safe for you to exist in anymore

-Child abuse: self explanatory, somewhat, at least. There are so many ways children are abused that don't include SA. Why does no one ever focus ONLY on emotional abuse and manipulation, since it is (at least based on very personal experience) one of THE most subtle forms of abuse? One of the few that did it very well recently I believe is Skinamarink...

-There Is A Creature In The Basement/Somewhere™: remember Babadook? Yeah, you don't have to make a copy, the monster can represent something different. The loss of a toy that can still haunt a kid after YEARS that it happened, or child abuse that happened by locking someone in the basement... A lot of things can be tackled by putting a creature that haunts the house. Divorce maybe? When the kid visits the house of a parent their parent seems... Different? And suddenly they understand why they divorced... Or maybe... Two kids being separated by child protective services? One of the kids sees a demonized version fo the other that hates them for "abandoning them" but the demonized sibling is pacified when the real siblings meet again? Events like the ones described can cause a lot of bad feelings in someone, either in childhood or once they have grown up. The theme specifically tackled is separation, isolation, vulnerability...

Plots that can be used for horror but I don't see around often or that don't necessarily regard loss of autonomy and a violation of the self include:

-Loss: ah, a classic! Make it... Loss of a pet! Knowing that the breed of cat or dog you chose to have with you was destined to have a series of illnesses and now being haunted by their loss, which you could have prevented... Or maybe not? Or a cat getting out of the house and not coming back... Or is it its meow you just heard out the window? Then why is the cat looking back so different? And why do you feel it hates you? Should you really follow it? The forest looks too dark but you tread on... (This can tackle irresponsible treatment of pets by human beings: keep your cats indoors people)

-Transformation=Why Am I Growing Up, I Wish I Wasn't™: I personally experience a longing to look more grown up and have more defined shapes, but that's not always the same for a lot of people, whether it is girls or boys of all flavors or nonbinary people who experience it while they are going through puberty or adulthood. It could be a horror tackling personal perception VS external perception. I feel weird and I look weird... I look in the mirror and the more the days pass, the more I see a completely different person... But why do the others not notice? Am I the only one who sees it? What does this say about me? I have turned into someone with a donkey head but nobody notices!

-Transformation=Transformation Into Creature And All That Entails And That's It, No Metaphor, I Just Want A Creepy Creature™: whether it is a bloodthirsty creature or a misunderstood one, someone turns into it and the transformation is described, with all the consequences unto a person's sense of self and instincts included.

This type of stuff sound interesting to me. I dunno. I do not write horror, I write stories with scary monsters at best, but horror? I do not write horror, so my suggestions come from an outsider perspective.

Just thought to myself "can't women have a bad time in fiction without rape being involved" which really shows you how much you're in the fucking trenches if you are both a horror fan and women fan

[kaysungshine]

݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .☽ fae trap ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖

{ Pairing } - Elf!Felix x Witch.afab!Reader

{ Genre } - Smut, Dark, Fantasy

{ Synopsis } - It is said, that if you ever find yourself inside of a fairy ring. The fae will punish you, by making you dance until you are passing out from exhaustion. But when you find yourself doing a different kind of 'dance' on the ground, in the middle of one, with the most beautiful creature you've ever seen you might add, you wonder; is this truly a punishment?

{ WC } - 7.7k

{ Warnings & Tags } - 18+ MDNI, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, dubcon, aphrodisiac effects, oral (f&m receiving), unprotected sex (piv; do as I say, not as I write & pee after sex!), rough/hard sex, overstimulation, big dick felix, dacryphilia, talk of breeding & mating, talking of mating rituals, please don't touch fly agaric mushrooms, srsly they're toxic and deadly, possible incorrect french usage.

{ Disclaimer } - This work is in no way associated or depicting the actual life of the members of SKZ. It is a fictional piece of work, and I do not own Stray Kids. All works of fiction are loosely inspired by SKZ, and in no way am I saying it is true to their character.

{ A/N } - For the love of all things skz. DO NOT EVER TOUCH FLY AGARIC/AMANITA MUSCARIA MUSHROOMS. THEY ARE TOXIC. DEADLY. This is also probably the darkest thing I've written on this account so far. But it doesn't feel inherently evil to me personally??? But it is enough to warrant a TW! This started off as a birthday oneshot for Felix. I'm starting to think I'm no good at oneshots. This could be left alone, but it could also be a series... I have so many world building thoughts, but idk if I wanna do that. What do you think?

Dusk was approaching as you made your way home from your walk. 

You were blessed to own a cute little home, right on the edge of a beautiful and mysterious forest. Every day you were able to take nature walks, wandering through the treeline, exploring the vegetation. Collecting materials, making sure never to take too much of what the woodland had to offer. And caring for as much as you could, though you knew you were not essential to the survival of wilderness itself. 

That didn't stop you from befriending the little critters who made their home there, or from essentially finding your own second home there. 

You never brought anything with you to permanently invade nature. Instead you wrapped your daily essentials in a little bindle. It usually contained a hearty snack, a book or two, endless vials and jars, your cell, and a small emergency kit. Homemade salves, balms, and tonics included. 

You always had some new shiny objects for your crow friends, making sure to exchange the gifts they left for you at your designated spot. And you always made sure to leave some nuts and seeds for the various rodents who liked to stuff their cheeks. Again, you didn't need to, but they really liked sweet black walnuts and salty peanuts in the shells. Who were you to deny them that treat! 

Some days you brought select crystals with you, cleaning and recharging them in the streams of spring water. Other days you'd use that same water, sealing it in jars and leaving it nearby to make moon water overnight. Those were about the only two things you ever left in the forest, always making sure to come back the next day and retrieve them. 

You always carry a little basket with you too. The forest was abundant in ingredients for many different things. Your favorite is mushrooms and fungi. 

There were many times you'd find a log of an oak tree, fallen over and resting on the ground. A bunch of chicken of the woods growing on it. You'd collect them, taking them home to cook for dinner or other meals.

Other days you'd find lion's mane, and make sure to gather some for your favorite tincture to make and take. It did wonders for your anxiety. 

You were a green witch through and through, and you were raised this way. You drew your energy and essence from nature, always taking little bits of it home. 

Today was no different. Forgoing mushrooms, you instead had bundles of mugwort and a jar full of mulberries in your wicker basket. Wrapped in a little cloth were a bunch of spicebush berries.

You were nearing the last clearing within the woods, your house was about a ten minute walk away at this point. 

The soft moss against your bare feet was grounding, and you were listening to the buzz and crackle of nightlife within the forest. Your white skirt ended at your knees, flaring out. The chiffon is blowing in the cool breeze. It was still tshirt weather, and that's exactly what you wore on top. A fitted one, pale and muted ivy green. You gave up on bras long ago, you were a solitary creature anyways. The friends who did visit never cared about your attire.

You were in your own world, playing a balancing game on a stump and humming to yourself, when flashes of red caught your eye. 

In the clearing, scattered in a broken circle, was fly agaric. 

Your heart fluttered at this rare find. You walk past this clearing daily, and never noticed any of the red mushrooms with white speckles there before. 

Eagerly, you approach. In the back of your mind, warning bells are going off. Thinking back to childhood, of the stories your mom once told you of the fae folk. You'd encountered fairy rings before, but never of this type of mushroom, and never broken ones. Certainly never one so big. You never breached the little white rings in the past, not wanting to mess with entities so possibly mischievous. 

But it would be fine right? This might not even be considered a fairy ring. It was sort of... circle-ish? But not really. There were so many gaps in between them, it wasn't a perfect circle like you'd seen in the past. And these mushrooms were so rare and so powerful, in so many ways. You could feel their energy radiating around you.

You glanced around, searching for any signs of immortal creatures lurking near. You saw and heard nothing, but that would be typical. They never willingly reveal themselves, in fact... You've never seen one. You've never seen any kind of fae folk. It's not that you didn't believe in them, you were sure some form of them existed. Afterall, you practice a form of magick. Your own form, and that exists. 

You were convinced all mythical creatures either exist or had existed, the idea of them couldn't come from nothing. Not when they were in so many stories across all different cultures. 

You paused for a few more moments, really trying to feel any negative energy. There was none, there was never any in your little forest. 

So, tentatively, you took a few steps forward. Then you paused again, waiting for something to pop out. 

Nothing.

You giggled to yourself happily, and then bent down to pluck the mushrooms from the marshy earth. 

They all varied in size, some were large with bulbous caps. Some were shorter, and had flatter caps. Each mushroom, you made sure to pick with a cloth barrier between them and your fingers. These could be deadly if used the wrong way or taken in excess. You had no idea what would happen if you came into direct contact with it, on your bare skin. 

You really should start carrying gloves with you.

You made your way around the broken circle, humming in between giggles, and unconsciously dancing. You were nearly prancing each bare step to the next. 

If you had paid more attention to your mothers tales, you'd realize the consequences of stepping inside a fairy ring were already taking effect.

You were collecting more than you needed now, your basket was overflowing. But still, you didn't want to stop. You felt strangely overcome with merriment. You never felt more at home in these woods than this moment. 

You mindlessly set your basket down, your humming growing in volume. You looked to the sky, as you allowed your body to sway back and forth. Arms stretched out towards the waning moon, coming to life in the dark sky surrounding you. 

Your eyes closed, soaking in the moonlight. And you brought your arms back down, letting them float at your sides as you twirled, and twirled. Your skirt flutters up to reveal your thighs even more, hair whipping in your face. You revelled in the feeling of the squishy dirt beneath your feet. You felt grounded, but as if you were flying all at the same time.

You don't know when your solitude was breached, or if you were ever truly alone in the first place, but you finally noticed his presence when his hands intertwined with yours. 

He was twirling with you, spinning you in circles. 

He was nearly glowing, strawberry colored lips revealing the sweetest smile you'd ever seen. His long, straight white hair framed his face stunningly, tendrils of it outlining his strong jaw line. And his face... so, perfect. He had hundreds of freckles splashed across his cheeks, nose and eyes. Even some scattering up to his hairline, and down to his chin. You'd imagine you could create many constellations with them, like the stars that twinkle in the night sky. He adorned various jewelry, all silver. In his ears, and a cuff across the bridge of his nose. He even wore a gorgeous crown that laid across his forehead as a head piece. It was thin, and wiry, made up of gorgeous silver filigree that shone in the moonlight. You knew that the rings you felt in between your fingers would be silver too. 

He wore all white. You couldn't be sure exactly what his outfit was, but his shirt was a flowing lace up top. Revealing delicate collar bones and toned chest. It was mostly a blur in the midst of his movements. 

Your gasp was delayed, only coming out when he pulled you closer to him. Your hand remains in his, while his arm is wrapped around your waist. You were nearly flush with him, feeling the rest of his chiseled torso against your plush body. But he kept your face at some distance to maintain eye contact. The smile never slipped from his lips. 

He has you captivated, and the two of you don't falter in your melodic movements once. His eyes bore into you, dark and sharp. Yet he exuded a certain softness, and you found yourself lost in the moment. It didn't seem real. 

But it was. 

You were seeing him. In all his glory, ever mysterious and breathtaking. The most handsome man you've ever laid eyes on. 

You were hearing him. He was humming the same tune you were, an old lullaby your mom used to sing to you. His voice was deep, and even, harmonizing with your breathy high pitched voice beautifully. 

You were feeling him. He was touching you, his hand interlocked with yours. His grip around your waist is gentle but possessive. He held you like he didn't want to break you, but knew if he was too loose, you'd go running. 

Though you weren't so sure you would run. 

Your mind was racing. There's no way you could stumble across a perfect stranger, who was immediately dancing with you, so close to the edge of the forest. So close to your house. Maybe this was some sort of hallucination. A side effect of being surrounded by so many toxic mushrooms. 

The mushrooms. 

That was it, it all clicked. Too late did the rest of your mother's words ring in your ears. 

His aura, his energy, his perfect pixie-like features. You noticed the point of his ears now, the glittery sheen to his skin. His smile is full of white pointed teeth, dull now, but you could tell they were once sharper in the past. His slight cat-like eyes, giving them that sharp look even though everything else about him screamed delicate.

Your humming stopped, but his didn't. Your mother's voice is filling your head, and you were repeating the words she once told you so long ago. 

'and if you're caught, the fae folk will punish you. You'll be dancing within the ring until you faint from exhaustion.' you whispered quietly. 

His smile only grew, a glint lighting up his eyes. 

He finally spoke, his chest vibrating against yours, "Wise words, from a magnificent young lady."

He had an accent, you couldn't quite place it. Something between old english and australian. It made you want to melt. 

He started laughing, and you were sure that if he didn't have a grip on you, you would've slid to the ground. 

You've both stopped twirling, but he's still moving you, moving with you. Swaying back and forth. 

"Who are you?" You ask curiously. 

"Who?" He chuckles, "Usually it's 'what are you', that people ask me. Though it's been almost a century since I have revealed myself to a mortal."

A century? Your mouth dries, and you feel something akin to fear course through your veins. But you aren't scared of him for some reason. Wary, suspicious, but not scared. 

"You're different though, you seem to have at least a diminutive amount of knowledge of my realm." 

You want to get angry at that comment. You'd like to consider yourself well informed and educated on all supernatural and magickal subjects. There'd always be more to learn though, and the human brain simply could not grasp it in its entirety. So he wasn't wrong. 

You're still saying nothing, dazed from his presence. So he continues. 

"You were right when you said fae folk." He assures. 

"You're a fairy?" You whisper, wonder dazzling in your voice.

At that he laughs again, and you swear you hear small chimes behind it.

"An elf. I believe that is the universal name humans gave us. Not all fae are fairies, there are others too." 

As he speaks, he lets go of your hand, bringing his fingers up to brush strands of hair from your face. His touch is warm, for some reason that shocks you. 

"Elf." You repeat, not a question, but a statement.

He hums, in agreement and starts to twirl you around again. His hand resting on your cheek, thumb brushing featherlight touches against it. 

You're trying very hard to wrap your head around the entire scenario. You shouldn't be surprised. You've dealt with other worldly things in the past. Spiritual realms are completely different from anything having to do with the fae world though. 

Worry floods through you again once you realize what's happening. 

"Am I being punished?" You lip quivers as you speak, "I-I was just trying to collec-"

He's bringing his head down, his forehead meeting yours. You feel the cold bite of the silver headpiece touching your skin. It's enough to shut you up.

"Shhh, darling. Don't view it as a punishment." 

"I don't want to dance until I pass out." You slowly say, even though your body feels otherwise.

Underneath the initial shock and caution, you still felt that overwhelming happiness. It was borderline euphoric... and strangely arousing. 

Everything happening inside your mind and body right now was so confusing. You were feeling lost, and found yourself clinging to the man--the elf, before you. 

"You pretty creature, don't worry. Danser dans le ronds de sorcières... that's for children." 

French? This being was a riddle. 

"I don't understand." You force out. 

He leans back a bit, so he can look into your eyes and your thighs clench, "We tell the kids, fae and human, that if a mortal is caught within our rings. They dance to exhaustion. The humans carried this myth with them into adulthood, while our kind later learned the truth of these special rings." 

He's still dancing with you, moving your body elegantly to a now imaginary song. Leading you in something reminiscent of a waltz, but you can barely focus on that when his touches are electric against your skin. 

"The truth?" You ask. 

He's dipping you down now, bending with your body as he once again is peering into your eyes. At first you think it's part of the dance. Until your back meets the land that was underneath your feet. The mixture of smells was potent. The scent of damp moss, and semi-sweet foliage filling your nose. 

He hums again, "It was never an entire lie, it always started off with dancing." 

The timbre of his voice was pooling wetness in your panties. You felt beads of sweat forming on your brow, and you were bewildered at how your body was reacting right now. It didn't make sense. 

His body is hovering over you now, his face coming close to yours. His nose is brushing along yours before he speaks again. 

"What better way to set the mood than a passionate dance, and in this case, under the moonlight?"

You whimpered, feeling disoriented and needing his touch. 

"I don't even know your name.", was the only thing you managed to mumble. 

He chuckled, and you felt his breath puff against your lips, "It's unimportant darling, but since you're so... alluring. You can call me Felix... I'd love to hear it rolling off your tongue when I make you cum."

You were mewling at the thought of fucking this mystical being, when you felt his lips against yours.

He was almost lazy in the way he kissed you. Seemingly in no rush at all. And it's not that you were complaining, but you wanted more. So you wrapped your arms around his neck, forcing his body flush with yours. 

He was smiling against your lips now, and you took the opportunity to swipe your tongue across his bottom lip, begging for access. 

"So eager. Patience little dove. You'll get what you desire and more." 

You knew it was absurd to lust after a man--an elf, gods how could you keep forgetting that, that you just met. But your body was burning and it felt like he was your only rescue. 

His hands wandered your body, groping and massaging every inch. 

He had your leg wrapped around him, his hand trailing down the back of your thigh and his lips attached to your neck. He was marking you with what you imagined to be the most beautiful bruises. You were panting at this point, and it felt ridiculous to be this turned on by so little. By a stranger. But it didn't make you want to stop.

His fingers reached the edge of your panties, and you gasped. You felt his smile again, he was enjoying every bit of this. You felt powerless to his strokes against you. Your hips were bucking up, chasing for friction.

His hand gripped your hip tightly, fingers squeezing into your flesh, pinning you further into the dirt. 

You hissed before whining, begging "Please."

"I said be patient." His voice was stern as he spoke against your ear.

It still didn't stop you from squirming beneath him, your mind wasn't registering anything beyond wanting to feel him filling you up. 

He brought his face back to yours, eyes gleaming and the most naughty expression written across it. 

"Fine. As you wish, little dove. But don't forget, I was trying to ease you into this." 

He tore your panties off of you, and his fingers were rubbing against you harshly, sending jolts of pleasure through you. 

"A-aaah!" You were moaning loudly, his movements jarring.

"This is what you wanted darling, isn't it?" He's muttering against your lips now, slipping his fingers into you. 

Your body feels more alive than ever, waves of pleasure washing over you. His fingers skillfully curl inside you, while his thumb works your sensitive bud. Swipe after swipe, eliciting more and more of your arousal onto his hand. 

His kiss is searing, and feels like the only thing currently keeping you anchored to your body. You felt your orgasm building quickly, the band growing tighter and tighter in your stomach. It felt like you'd float away when it snapped. 

You can't contain the lewd noises you're making. Between the moans he's swallowing from your lips, and the loud squelching from between your thighs, it was deafening. Or maybe it was just that your ears were ringing. 

It felt like only seconds later when he brought you over the edge, his movements slowing but never stopping. You're whining, and your legs are trembling but you don't want him to stop. You're nearing over sensitivity and when you close your eyes, you see nothing but stars.

All you can think of are the freckled constellations on his cheek. 

You feel drunk on this moment, and you don't want it to end. It's as if he knows exactly where your mind is when he speaks again.

"You're not done little dove, don't you worry your pretty little head." 

When you open your eyes, and tilt your head up, his shirt and pants are discarded. Revealing a dizzying body. He was lithe yet chiseled. His body is almost dainty, but each muscle is carved in the most irresistible way. His abs were glorious, your eyes trail lower, following the v cut. You notice the faint spattering of a happy trail, and your eyes follow it. 

And fuck.

You've never been one to view someones cock as pretty but... his was. The tip was so swollen and pink, and leaking generous amounts of precum. Faint blue veins prominent along the shaft, and he stood tall and proud. His girth made you wonder if you could handle the stretch. It had been a while since you'd last been intimate. 

He brought his hand, covered in your slick, to his member. Spreading it all over in a mixture with his precum, making it glisten. Your mouth started to water, and your legs spread wider for him. You pulled your skirt completely up, presenting yourself to him. 

His jaw was slack, mouth hung open as he watched you, fist pumping himself slowly. 

"Such a good girl for me darling, aren't you?" He said with that charming smile. 

There was something about the way he looked at you, while doing such a perverse act that had your juices dripping down you. 

Then he was on top of you again, cock sliding into you. Your entire body tensed at the intrusion and you wailed, a mix of pain and pleasure. But it was so satisfying, you couldn't get enough. Your arms wrapped around his neck again, and he was thrusting into you at a brutal pace. 

Your back was digging into the ground, and you started to feel bits of grass and dirt against your skin. You pulled against him, trying to adjust yourself so you could lose yourself in the dance you two were now performing. 

He pulled out of you, and sat back on his knees, that's when you noticed his clothes underneath him. You had no idea he was wearing a cape earlier. It was sprawled out, creating a barrier between him and the ground. 

He picked you up, and positioned you to straddle his lap, facing him. Then he slid back into you, your eyes rolled back, and you let out a filthy moan. 

This position felt more intimate but still desperate, he was reaching deeper into you. The head of his cock pistoning against your g-spot. It felt so good you could cry. 

You were crying, you realized. 

"Shhh, little dove, you're taking it so well. It feels so good, doesn't it?" 

"Yes!" You sob. 

He's wiping the tears from your eyes with his fingers, and smiling at you like you're the most precious thing on this planet. 

"That's right, pretty. So pretty when you cry." He groans out, and his pace grows faster, rougher.

His hand dips down between you, and he's toying with your clit now. In any other circumstance, you'd be embarrassed by the way your body uncontrollably trembles. Your muscles are spasming at his touch. You just couldn't bring yourself to care, he was making you feel too good. 

"Darling," He purred, as he slowed his thrusts and pinched your clit between two fingers, rolling it, "I want you to look me in the eyes when you cum for me, can you do that?" 

You were mewling as you nodded your head frantically, feeling your peak rush towards you. 

At that he started fucking into you harshly, almost painfully, and you were coming undone with a loud cry on top of him. Your body tensed, nails digging into his shoulders, struggling not to throw your head back. His hand that was playing with you, gripped your jaw, smearing your own arousal on your face.

He was making sure you kept your word, maintaining your gaze on his while you clenched around him. Your eyes were fluttering as you tried to keep them open. He was biting his lip, eyebrows scrunched together as he fucked you through your orgasm. Watching your face contorted in pleasure. 

"So tight." He grunted.

You were scratching at him now, nails dragging down his shoulders. And your mouth was hung open in a silent scream, your voice having given up on you. 

It was becoming overwhelming. 

You still didn't want it to stop.

"I know you can take it darling, take it." He growled, gripping both your hips now to steady you.

So you did, until you were limp in his arms, and he was releasing into you with a groan. 

Your head was resting on his shoulder. Sweaty skin sticking to each other, and he was soothing you. Humming and stroking your hair gently. You were breathing heavily, trying to come down from this mind blowing experience. But you weren't descending, not mentally. You were still riding that high, stuck in a lust filled haze. 

He started to roll his hips tantalizingly slow, and you hissed at it, feeling slight pain. Mostly you were shocked he was still hard. 

His chest vibrated while he quietly laughed, "Did you forget the 'more' part, darling. I keep telling you, we're not done yet." 

You whined at the sensation of his gentle movements. 

"Shhh, there there." He's teasing you, "Are we a little sore?"

"Yes." You breathed.

"I can fix that." 

You gasped when he slid out of you, hating the fact that you felt so empty. 

He was positioning you to lay down on his clothes, taking care that no part of you touched the ground. You just let him handle you, molding your pliant body however he wanted it.

His hands were rubbing down your arms, and he was smiling down at you. When you met his eyes, you couldn't explain the exact emotions you were feeling. You'd let this man take your soul if he asked right now. 

He was licking his lips as his hand trailed back to your core. You gasped again, then whined when he dragged his fingers through your swollen folds. His touch was almost massaging, yet sensual. He was touching everywhere, teasingly avoiding your sensitive bud. 

The more he touched you, the more you writhed. And sensing another comment about how you can't be still or patient, you yanked him down to you so you could kiss him. 

You were tired of just laying there, you wanted to start giving. To start touching.

You didn't know where all this stamina came from, but you were determined to use it. You jerked your hips up, leaning more into his touch. 

It wasn't until you reached down to wrap your fingers around his length that he paused his movements. 

He was still slick with your cum. And you used that to give him slow strokes.

He let out a hoarse moan against your lips, before pressing his fingers directly on your clit, rubbing in small circles. He was matching your tempo directly. You whined into the kiss, your hand picking up pace. Pumping him faster now, and he followed your lead. 

Or so you thought, just as you felt your climax starting to build, his fingers were being pulled away. 

He took your hand off him, and then crawled down your body, coming face to face with your core. 

"So pretty, even here darling." 

You were blushing at his words, but you couldn't take your eyes off of his, as he stared at you from between your thighs. 

"Still sore? Let me make it feel better, little dove." 

And you felt his tongue lave through your folds. It was gentle and it felt hot, and it drove you crazy. The flicks of his tongue against your clit were maddening, and you wanted more. 

Your hips started slowly moving against his face, and this time he let you. He lets you roll your hips, and grind against his face. His tongue flattened against you, and you slid your hand into his blindingly white locks. You started grinding against him harshly, losing all sense and control of your body and just focusing on climaxing. 

He let himself be used by you, and as your grip in his hair tightened, so did that feeling in your stomach. You felt another orgasm come over you, and he let you ride it out, quite literally.  

You expected to start feeling spent by now, but you didn't. So before he could climb back up your body to kiss you, you were sitting up and pushing him onto his back.

He landed on it with a thud, puffing out air and looking at you incredulously. 

You let the primal urges take over as you lowered yourself onto your stomach, and took his member in your hand. You licked up the underside of his cock, your eyes never leaving his. He groaned as you watched his eyes roll into the back of his head. 

You placed a soft kiss on the tip, and licked the strings of precum off your lips. 

"Fuck..." He whispered.

"Let me return the favor." You mumbled before you took his tip between your lips.

You let your tongue swirl over it a few times, savoring his taste. He brought his hand down to your face, and pushed your hair back for you. 

You let your tongue run down the underside of his cock, and you sunk your mouth onto him. You had completely engulfed him, and were struggling not to gag. Still, you never intended to stop. 

He was grunting as your head bobbed up and down on him, saliva collecting at the corners of your mouth and dripping down to pool at his pelvis. 

"Making--ah fuck--such a mess for me, darling." He groaned. 

He lets you keep at your own pace for a while longer before he starts thrusting into you. He kept your head in place, and you gagged and tears started running down your cheeks. Each stroke became more and more erratic, until ropes of his hot cum were shooting down your throat. 

He pulled you off of him and you gulped down breaths of air. He was caressing your cheek, swiping a mix of tears, spit and cum from your lips before kissing you. 

That's how you both continued throughout the night. Pleasuring each other, nearly non-stop, under the moonlight. Your mind was fractured, nothing else but him existed inside of it. He'd touched, fondled, massaged, and embraced you, until you could only respond with breathy whispers of his name. 

"Felix..." You sighed, when he was bringing feeling back to your numb legs by massaging them.

"Felix..." You moaned, as he slowly took you as you both laid on your sides.

"Felix..." You screamed as you came undone on top of him, riding him roughly.

He took you in many different positions, and you indulge yourself in each one. When he wasn't fucking you, you were whining in complaint and going down on him. If he wasn't going down on you, he was edging you with his fingers. Your hands never left each other's bodies, always needing connection. You were sure he was just as familiar with your body as you were by this point. 

The exhaustion finally hit when he had you on your back in a mating press. The last thing you remember, is staring up into the twilight sky. Dawn was approaching, the stars were disappearing before your eyes, as the golden glow of the sun started to peek through. 

Your eyes were fluttering as you fought unconsciousness, determined to finish fucking this completely ethereal creature. Felix was barely putting in an effort to fuck you, but he still slid in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace, as if he wanted to keep your orgasm at bay. You both wanted to extend this moment in time, but your body wouldn't have that.

When you finally let go, cumming on his cock for what felt like the hundredth time. That's when your eyes shut and you gave into the exhaustion. 

The familiar scent of nag champa incense filled your nostrils as you started to come to. 

Your bedroom, permanently infused with your favorite scent to burn, that's where you were. The familiar feel of your sheets beneath you, and your heavy comforter confirmed that.  

Your mind still felt a little cloudy as you started to recall how you got to your bed from the forest. 

That's when you feel a body next to you and your eyes shot open.

"Felix?" You croaked, your voice dry and hoarse.

He was laying next to you on his side, in your bed, in your house. 

He had the blankets pulled up to his waist, and was resting his head on his hand. Elbow propped up, so he could see you better. He was shirtless and he wore that same smile on his face, like he was so fond of you.

"Is that still the only thing you can say, little dove?" He whispered teasingly. 

"How- I mean, why-?" You stutter as you attempt to sit up in bed, but your entire body aches. 

You hiss at the burning sensation you felt between your legs. And your legs, gods, you don't think that they've ever felt so sore. 

"Easy darling, you need to rest." He said as he helped you sit up. 

He reached over to his side of the bed and handed you a glass of water, motioning for you to drink. 

You eyed him curiously as you sipped your water, finishing it rather quickly when you realized how thirsty you were. 

"I ran you a bath and kept it hot, when you're ready we should wash you up more." 

"More?" You questioned him.

"I did clean you up last night, I'm not a monster. The bath will help ease your muscles." He chuckled.

"How did you even know where I live?" 

"It's not hard to figure out, we weren't that far from it. Your house is the only one for miles." 

You still felt guarded around him, even after the night you shared. If the stories your mother told you turned out to be partially true, you could only imagine what other lore could turn out to be true. 

Now this mischievous creature knew where you lived, he was in your home.

"I know this is your sacred space little dove, I don't intend to intrude. However, I couldn't exactly leave you in the state you were in. How are you feeling? Is your head a little clearer?" He spoke softly as he brushed his fingers through your hair. 

It is. Almost all of that dazed feeling was gone, you felt more lucid. In that clarity though, a rush of embarrassment hit you. You felt your skin heat up at the more clear memories of last night. 

You were never the type for hookups or one night stands, yet the things you did with this perfect stranger... This perfect magickal stranger... they felt unspeakable. You'd never lost yourself so completely in someone else's presence, much less with your own... sessions. 

You hide your face in your hands and rub at your temples, trying to make sense of this entire situation. Of your own feelings. You didn't exactly regret it or hate it. Something still felt off. Not only was the entire act abnormal in general, and downright questionable. But it was so out of character for you. Did he use... compulsions? Did he have that type of magick?

"Thinking too hard will just exhaust you more." He said.

"Look..." You sigh, as you turn to face him, "I'm a little lost here, I don't know what to make of this all." 

Next thing you know, he's off the bed. He's picking you up in his arms, and you notice you're both still nude. Your face flushes again at that, and you struggle a bit in his arms.

"Be calm darling, I'm just taking you to the tub. We can talk about it all." 

You let him place you in the tub, and then he's sliding in behind you. Slotting you between his legs. He's pulling you back towards him, so you lay against his chest. You both sit like that for a few moments, absorbing the heat from the bath and getting used to each other in a new type of intimate way.

You should be kicking him out of your house. You should be cussing him out. Defending yourself, but why didn't you feel the need to defend yourself against him? Why were you drawn to him? 

When you think about the facts, some would say you were attacked last night. I mean there's a reason the Fae call it a punishment You didn't feel attacked though. You enjoyed yourself, as crazy as that is to say. 

You always knew you were an adventurous soul, but you never thought to this extent. 

How do you come to terms with actually feeling okay with this whole thing, when you knew you shouldn't be?

"You're a witch, right?" He suddenly asks you, breaking your train of thought. 

"I am... though I'm beginning to question the validity of that title, seeing as I have an actual magical creature behind me." You mumble. 

You knew the magick you practiced was real. You could feel it. It's not like you could create fire though, or move things, or transfigure things in front of you. You weren't even sure Felix could do any of that as an elf. You weren't sure of anything anymore. 

You felt like you were entering an existential crisis. Panic was starting to settle within you when you felt his chest vibrate with laughter, it was an oddly soothing sensation that you know you've felt before.

"No, you are. I can sense it, it's in your blood. It took me a while to piece it together, but you are a witch through and through. Sometimes humans don't know of their tie to the magickal world, but I figured... from your altar, among other objects and ingredients I've noticed here, that you knew." 

You hummed, your mother always told you that you were a part of a long line of witches. She raised you heavily within her practice. You never doubted her, but somehow this new revelation made it so much more real. You realize this was opening a whole new aspect in your own practice. A hidden world, seemingly waiting for your return.

"Is that why you came to me? Because you sensed a witch was near?" You questioned him, your hands playing with the water. 

"No, you stepped inside my fairy ring. I have to say I was shocked. I placed it in, what I thought was, an inconspicuous area. I hadn't realized your home was nearby."

"Okay, I'm going to need you to explain." You sighed. 

"Well... you already know what I told you yesterday. The stories you were told, were passed down by your ancestors and other mortals in general. You don't really just dance in fairy rings, that's a small fib we tell the children. As more human children found the rings, when we'd find them dancing. We'd send them off, warning them if they came in again that we would have them dancing until they faint. When our own children wandered into them curiously, we'd tell them the same thing until it became time for them to learn. It's just something stupid the ancestors came up with, I don't know... It does always start out with a courting dance though, but the main reason for them is, inside a fairy ring... you mate. They're essentially a part of an ancient mating ritual."

At that you nearly jumped up to smack him, but he was a step ahead of you. His arms tightened around your body, pinning your arms to your chest. 

"MATING?!" You screamed at him, trying to turn your head and make eye contact, "I don't fucking wan-" 

"Please, calm down little dove. It's not possible for me to actually breed you. That requires an entirely different ritual, one that hasn't been performed in centuries. I'm not even sure anyone would know how to perform it these days..." He trails off. 

"So then why even lay these stupid Fae traps for humans anyways?!" You screech. 

"They're not traps, and they're not meant for humans." He says defensively, and you can hear the pouting in his tone, "Think of it like this. You know how some penguins build big and pretty nests to attract a mate? It's kind of like that. It's a lot to explain in detail, and I had to create one. Now that I'm of age, it's expected of me to find a partner. Even if I don't find the need to." 

"And why do they exist in this realm if they're not meant for us?"

"Well, a long time ago, back when there was only this realm, and there were more Fae than humans, they came across one. That fairy was so angry at the human for intruding on something so intimate of his, and he threatened the human with a punishment. Before any of the other Fae could stop him, he entered the ring. When they both were inside of it, they were overcome with the magic of the ring. The courting dance had started, and no one else was able to enter. The desire for each other grew. In his anger he must've forgotten what the ring's intention was, and was only focused on punishing the human. But he never got that far. They ended up... mating. They never separated from that night, spending their lives together. It was millenia ago. It created an uproar though. Our kinds had never joined before that way."

You sat and listened, calming down a bit as he told you this story.

"There were battles, not an outright war but there might as well have been. They grew to love each other, and they led the winnings of those battles to stay together. They opened the door for Fae and humans to be together, but it has always been frowned upon from both sides."

There was an entire history of this world that you had never known. One that you could never even imagine to be true. But it is. Before your mind let you delve into it though, you thought back to something he said.

"Overcome with magic? These rings hold compulsions over beings?" You questioned hastily, needing to confirm your suspicions. 

"No. It's not like that..." He sighed, "Didn't you feel different last night?" He continues, "The mushrooms release something like a pheromone. An aphrodisiac, to enhance your sexual stamina. Among other mood boosting and energy boosting properties. It starts by uplifting your mood, making you feel the happiest you've ever been. Then you start dancing, your energy building up in preparation for what's to come. It's not until your partner enters that the aphrodisiacs start releasing. But it doesn't just take away your consent like that. Both parties have to be willing... it needs to be mutual. Though that's not to say that's not how every instance turns out. Evil exists in all realms." 

You shivered at his words, trying to process everything. You could clearly remember the primal urges taking over, the need to constantly be filled. It explained that off feeling, why you were acting so out of character. But you couldn't deny that you had wanted it. 

Craved it. 

You never tried to stop it, never wanted to stop it... In fact you initiated it to an extent. 

He started talking again, "That's why I couldn't just leave you there. Especially not in that forest, where other creatures lurk and might find you. I never felt anything dark there, but that doesn't mean it won't come along. I brought you home. I cleaned you up, I made you drink because you were getting dehydrated. I cared for you."

He was loosening his grip around you to rub your shoulders. It made you think back to the skilled massages he gave you last night, in between all of the sex. He made sure to take care of you the whole night it seemed.

"But none of this answers my question from earlier, why not place the rings in your own realm now? Why would any of the Fae place them here?" You asked.

"There are many different reasons..." He mumbled, "Some of them do it because they want to experience sex with a willing human. Some of them do use them as traps for humans, and those Fae are disgraceful, downright evil. Most of those types have been banished from the realm I come from. But some are like me. We try to hide them, from everyone. Because even though we're required to have them, we don't want to use them."

Then you thought back to his previous words, "Wait... 'find your partner' you said? Are we- do we have some sort of bond now?"

The silence was thick in the air. You waited for him to speak, but he didn't, so you turned around in the tub to face him. Your legs spread out on top of his, as you half straddled his lap. 

His eyes stared into yours, expressionless. It was much colder than his usual warm aura, so you grabbed his hand to hold it, and asked again in a softer tone, "Do we?" 

"We don't have to. It's not permanent. Most Fae who get humans within their rings leave them there once they've passed out anyways. Humans don't have the same stamina as we do, even with their boosted energy from the ring. The first woman passed out, that's where the ancestors got their silly tale from." He spoke tightly, like he was debating even revealing this bond at all. 

"I see." You replied, even though you had many more questions and didn't have a full grasp on it all. 

Not much made sense. In a span of hours you found out the true existence of a hidden realm, and these magickal creatures. You met one, you slept with him, then you actually slept with him, and now you bathe with him. You talk with him, as if all of this is a normal day.

It should all unsettle you more than it actually does. You should be freaking out, 100% meltdown level. This is the story of fairy tales, and maybe not a good one. This could be the big bad wolf and you could be little red riding hood. But somehow, you were comfortable in his presence. Comfortable enough to want to spend more time with him. To learn more, about him, his world, and this new bond. 

So you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around his neck, giving his lips a small peck. 

"Maybe we could... figure it out together? See what happens next, if you explain more to me, that is." 

His eyes lit up with hope, and his charming smile returned to his face. The thought that you could wake up every day to that smile entered your head quicker than you could blink.

You'd figure something out. You had to. He couldn't leave your life now. Not when it seemed like it was just getting started thanks to him.

Taglist:

@eczlipse @sailor--sun @maisyyyyyy @jupire @prettiichocolateprincess

@meowmeowminnie @joyofbebbanburg @adieu-lisette @sleeping-beau-tay @staytinyluv

@lookitsjess @majorlymismanaged @kpopsstuffs @helloimacalumgirl @bbokarimenu

@bubblepop-stay @mauvemelon @ohhlittlegirl @ang4lheart @spnwinchestersd

@adieu-lisette @loud-minhoe @juwire @anylady-fics @antisocialties

@nebugalaxy @wowitsafemale @irrevocable-exposure

As always, please let me know if you'd like to join the taglist. And if you do, pretty please interact with my fics besides liking (ie; replying/commenting/reblogging). Although I will always appreciate liking as well! Feedback is always cherished! ♡

But again, please be gentle in your criticism! I am but a sensitive soul.

[melodygatesauthor]

The Fractured Moon - Part 4

Yandere! Moon Boys X f!Reader

PLEASE READ TAGS/DISCLAIMERS/WARNINGS BEFORE READING THIS FIC. THERE ARE DARK THEMES!

Not Beta Read - Series Masterlist

Summary:

After Steven's ruthless beating, you need time to recover, and the boys are going to show you how nice they can treat you, if only you'll let them, and as long as you behave.

Tags/Warnings (for entire series):

Disclaimer: I created this fic for the sole purpose of exploring the yandere thing as a fanfiction "kink" in a safe way and in a safe space. I in no way would want this to happen to myself or someone else. This fic is not a reflection of my moral beliefs. - Further, this fic is not an accurate representation of people with DID (dissociative identity disorder). These men happen to have DID and I'm putting them in a situation where they would have an unhealthy obsession with the reader character. NSFW, Stalking, non-con, somnophilia, rape, mentions of murder, drugged sex, kidnapping, manipulation, dacryphilia, voyeurism, threats of physical harm, copious amounts of sex, copious amounts of unprotected sex, blood, unrealistic refractory period, biting, slapping, hitting, reader is smol, choking. This is a Dead Dove Do Not Eat situation.

Word Count: 3.4k

Marc was still afraid to take any unnecessary risks, so he kept your wrists tied to the dining room chair just in case. Marc fantasized about a time that you would be in complete submission to them. He dreamt of how nice it would be to wake with you in their bed, curled up into his chest while you slept soundly. He thought about what a wonder it would be to have you kissing him and begging him to make you feel good. He wanted you to want them.

Steven was delusional and Marc knew that. Maybe he was too, he thought. He wondered if it was delusional to think that one day he could have all those things. Every time he looked at you he felt a stab of guilt in his gut. When did things get so fucked up? This wasn’t the kind of person they were, and whenever Marc’s sanity broke through the barrier of his fantasy, he thought about letting you go. But then he thought about you out there where anyone could look at you, talk to you, touch you.

No.

“Your wounds are healing nicely honey,” he said, breaking the otherwise deafening silence in the dining room.

You nodded, still feeling a bit defeated from the beating Steven had dealt you over a week ago. Was it a week ago? You couldn’t remember how long it had been. It was hard to keep track of time there. When Marc mentioned the bruises you could still feel the sting left behind from Steven’s lashing. Your eyes darted to the floor quickly, not wanting to think about it.

“Hey,” Marc’s hand went out, finger tucking under your chin and turning your gaze back to meet his. “Jake and I told you we’d keep you safe, right? Remember? We told you we’d handle Steven? And he’s been much better to you, hasn’t he?”

You nodded slowly, bottom lip trembling while you thought about what his brother had done to you. Even with his and Jake’s reassurance that no further - serious - harm would come to you by Steven’s hands, you still didn’t dare to even touch yourself when the urge arose. If Steven’s goal was to frighten you into obedience, it had worked.

Every night, sometimes multiple times a night, Steven would fill you so full you were stuffed and dripping his cum for the rest of the evening. He was often the first person you’d see in the mornings too, taking your body and bending it to suit his needs. You were exhausted most days, and he showed no signs of stopping.

You couldn’t deny the sweetness that came with his insatiable sex drive though.

“Oh darling, you’re so pretty,” he’d say with his forehead against you, the tip of his nose touching yours. “I…I know you’re so sore and I’m so sorry but, mm-fuh–”

And then he’d come, spilling his hot white spend into your aptly stretched hole. His hips would stutter, and he’d look at you as though no one else in the world existed. Once in a while you even forgot yourself and felt tempted to reach out and touch his face, like you might want to lean forward and kiss those hooded, sex drunk eyelids of his.

But you resisted. 

The part of you that still wanted to fight for survival was stronger than that, and it was screaming inside of you to stay resilient. Sometimes Steven made you feel good though. When you were particularly achy, and full of so much cum you couldn’t hold anymore, he would kneel at the foot of the bed, drape your legs over his broad shoulders, and start cleaning and slurping his spend right out of you. He was better at that than the other two, and when he looked up at you from between your thighs with glossy lips and shoulders heaving with heavy breaths, you had to shake yourself from that small sense of adoration you falsely felt for him. 

He kidnapped you, he raped you, he beat you, you would remind yourself like a mantra over and over again until you were sick of it. You still needed to fight to survive this. You couldn’t accept that this was the end of the line for you. 

“M-Marc?” you whispered.

His entire face lit up to hear you speak his name in such a soft tone. Marc’s hand cupped your cheek gently, as though a firmer grip might break you. His thumb brushed over your skin softly, such a gentle touch for someone so monstrous.

“Yeah honey?”

You gulped, looking around to make sure that neither Steven nor Jake were going to show up before making your inquiry. If Steven, especially, heard you, you’d be in for another harsh reminder of your position and you knew it.

“Can I have those pills again?” You thought about how much they eased your pain before, and how sleepy they made you. If you were going to continue to survive, you would need something to help you get through for now until you came up with a plan.

“Oh, baby, last time I gave you those, Jake and I agreed with Steven that it wasn’t fair to him. I’m sorry I can’t–”

“Please,” you looked at him with such desperation it almost made him flinch.

Your eyes welled until they were nearly spilling over. If you were being honest, you were laying on the theatrics a bit, but another part of you was genuinely in need of something to ease the ache you felt when Steven made you a glorified sex doll. Marc finally nodded slowly and gave you a sympathetic half-smirk.

“Yeah, I’ll give you half a pill to hide in your bedside table. That should relax you enough without knocking you out. You can take it when you know Steven’s coming just…don’t let him see it, alright?” Marc raised his brow in emphasis. “I’m not worried for my sake but you…you know how he can get.”

You nodded eagerly, “yes,” a sigh of relief left your entire body, “yes, I promise.”

“Okay, I’ll get you one after you’re finished eating.”

Dinner was one of Marc’s favorite times of the day because it was one of the few times he got you all to himself. They each had a role to play in your day: waking up with Steven, the greedy little shit wanting you both before sleep and after. Marc took care of your bathing and meals, making sure each time he had you was nicer for you than the time before. Then there was Jake, giving you a firm hand in the early afternoon to make sure you learned to mind, and then making you play dress up and sit on his lap in his study shortly after dinner.

Marc liked to think he was different from the other two. He liked to think you needed him, like he was taking care of you and you wouldn’t be able to survive in this house without him. He was protecting you - as much as he could for being one of the three who did this to you - . But Marc felt justified in that he wasn’t hurting you, not really. He never struck you, and he wouldn’t. When you were afraid of the other two and looking for someone to comfort you, he would be your safe space.

Marc took a strawberry and lifted it to your mouth, watching intently as your precious lips parted to bite into the ripe fruit. He chuckled watching some of the juice drip down your chin.

“My messy little girl,” he cooed, wiping the juice from your chin and popping his thumb into your mouth.

His brow furrowed, feeling your tongue roll over his thumb. Marc’s dick sprang to life almost instantly while you teased him. No…he was starting to think like Steven. You weren’t teasing, you were just cleaning him off, but still…what if you knew exactly what you were doing to him? It was always possible that you wanted him but were just playing coy…right?

“That’s very good honey,” Marc pulled his hand back, “do you want some more?”

You nodded, feeding into his delusion that you did want this.

Marc moaned this time when you bit into the strawberry, more juice dripping down your chin and landing on your chest. He leaned in toward your face, his tongue darting out to lap up the mess and bring it to your lips. You let him in, and he wondered if you actually wanted to kiss him, or if you were just behaving because you were afraid of what may happen if you didn’t.

He didn’t really care at the moment, because you kissed like you wanted it. Your tongue melted with his, and he swore he heard a breathy whine roll up through your throat only to be muffled by the wet sounds of your mouths moving together.

“Fuck, baby,” Marc breathed as he pulled back, breaking the kiss plopping into his chair across from yours. “You’re so…” He couldn’t think of a word sufficient enough to describe the way you made him feel.

Despite yourself, the arousal was building between your legs after that kiss. Something about Marc did make things feel a little less horrible, even if you knew you shouldn’t feel that way. You were feeling yourself giving in, and you hated it.

You realized now how thirsty you were, like your mouth was dry and filled with cotton.

“P-please,” your voice was still a soft croak in the otherwise silent room. 

You looked at the glass full of red wine next to the rest of your meal. You gulped, looking back over at Marc and nodding. He smiled, bringing the glass to your lips and pouring it into your mouth. He started tipping the cup just a little before you drank faster and faster until it was gone. You breathed like you’d run a mile, licking the remnants of the sweet drink from your lips.

“Jeez honey, do you want some more?” He chuckled.

You nodded, watching him as he filled the glass once more and you chugged all of it down quickly. Marc having his way with you was inevitable, and since you knew that, you were going to make yourself at least a little numb to it. Perhaps you could even enjoy yourself without feeling completely guilty. If you were a bit buzzed then maybe you could forgive yourself later when you enjoyed the way he touched you.

Marc shouldn’t like you drunk, but he did. Something about how much happier you seemed to be made him feel at peace. It didn’t take you long to get there either, he could see your eyes start to droop a bit while you looked at him after a few more moments passed.

“Baby, I’m going to take these off your wrists and ankles,” he said, referring to the straps holding you against the chair. “I don’t think you’d be able to go anywhere even if you wanted to.”

He let out a lighthearted chuckle as he finished freeing your limbs. You stood up immediately, stretching your arms and legs to get the blood flow back through your body. You stumbled forward, and Marc stood fast to catch you. God you were so tiny. Sometimes he forgot just how small you were compared to them.

“Easy, easy,” he said, laughing while you leaned against his chest. “Let’s go sit you down in the living room.”

He helped you - basically carried you - to the living room, setting you down on the couch and sitting himself beside you. It didn’t take much, just a little nudge with his hand to get you to lay down on his lap. Marc rubbed your cheek softly with his thumb, looking down at your eyes and the way the fire from the crackling fireplace reflected in your pupils so prettily.

“There you go, just rest honey. If you get tired I’m sure Jake would understand.”

“Speak for yourself, pendejo.”

Marc didn’t reply, still certain he wanted to keep that insanity from you for now. Maybe once you were better adjusted he would feel more comfortable sharing more about his personal life, but until then, he would only subject you to one crazy thing at a time.

You shifted your face against his lap, your cheek brushing against the obvious tent he’d pitched from when he kissed you earlier. He didn’t think it would go away any time soon, but he could take care of himself later, or maybe even ignore and let Steven deal with it when he was fronting. It was a shock to him though, when you picked your head up and placed a small peck on the clothed shaft of his dick through his jeans.

You did that all on your own.

“Baby, what the hell are you…oh shit…”

You brushed your lips over it, feeling enticed by the scent of his musk. Obviously the wine was making you feel something, maybe something you wanted subconsciously, or maybe it was purely a physical need induced by the arousal building in your core. You felt hot, like your body was made up of pure lust and nothing else. You hated yourself and wished that you hadn’t drank the wine, even if it would make your night easier.

None of it mattered now, because you did drink the wine, and you were feeling yourself grow hotter by the second at the thought of giving Marc pleasure. You fucking wanted him, and you couldn’t loathe yourself more over it. You slipped off the couch to your knees, looking up at him from between his legs and feeling nothing but pure desire for him when you did.

Who the fuck am I? You thought to yourself.

Marc couldn’t believe his eyes. You were on your knees between his legs, a sight he was certain he wouldn’t ever see, not this early on in your life of captivity anyway. Your little hands fumbled with his belt, managing to slowly pull the leather strap from the buckle before you started to unbutton his pants. His mouth hung open while he watched you tug his jeans and briefs to his thighs, letting his cock spring free. 

You looked at it like never before, leaning forward and giving the length of him a small kitten lick all the way from the base to the tip. Marc couldn’t breathe while he watched you. He knew that you could fit it in your mouth, you’d done it with Jake the night they took you, but this time was different. This time, you were acting like you wanted it.

“Take your time honey, I know your little mouth can hardly handle us,” he cooed, reminding you that you didn’t need to rush.

You gulped, lips parting slowly as you stared at his leaking tip. Once more you flicked your tongue out and licked the bead of precum off of him. He wondered if you even realized that you hummed as if you liked the taste. He reached a hand behind your head, not to pressure you, but instead to guide you. Marc wanted to make this as comfortable for you as possible, especially considering it wasn’t very often that you showed eagerness or compliance to satisfy their needs.

You opened your lips wide, leaning up over his cock before lowering your head down around it. The second Marc felt the warmth of your mouth surround him it was like the breath punched out from his lungs.

“Oh…god honey,” he growled through clenched teeth. “F-fuck.”

You didn’t take it all, and he hadn’t expected you to. He was impressed that you even made it to the halfway mark before the head of his cock was probing against your throat. Maybe one of the other two would stretch your mouth out more and teach you how to use it, but it wasn’t going to be Marc, not today.

Maybe it was the fact that you were drunk, or maybe it was that you liked the way Marc was breathing and whining, but you couldn't ignore the feeling of your aching clit any longer. You put your finger between your legs, still using your other hand to hold onto Marc’s thigh for stability, and you started touching yourself. It was embarrassing how wet you were over someone who had done such horrible things to you.

“Does it feel that good honey? You like sucking my cock that much?”

Marc was mesmerized by your eyes and the way you furrowed your brow while you sucked him off. That was the same expression he recognized from before when he’d made you come around his cock. You moaned around his dick, an acceptable answer to his question.

You know you look so pretty like that,” he nodded, breath blowing out through his pursed lips while he tried to hold back from fucking your throat wide open. “Sit back for me, honey.”

With a loud ‘pop’ you let his cock fall out of your mouth and you sat back on your heels. Your eyes were stuck on his throbbing length, mind still fuzzy with arousal and intoxication, feeling yourself wanting nothing more than to have it back in your mouth. You hadn’t stopped circling around your clit with your fingers, your wet slick making it easy to move around just right. Another bead of precum trickled teasingly down Marc’s shaft, dripping onto the floor and leaving you salivating.

“You really want more, hm?” He asked, grabbing the thick base of himself firmly and slowly starting to jerk himself off in front of you.

Yes, you thought to yourself. You didn’t know why, and you were still a little mad at yourself for appearing so eager, but yes, you fucking wanted it.

Marc couldn’t believe his eyes when you nodded, your gaze still trained on his swollen dick while he held onto it. He gave it another firm stroke, slowly, up to the tip. When he squeezed around the top some slick, clear precum dripped down onto his fingers. With his free hand he beckoned you back over, holding the back of your head and positioning his tip at your lips.

“Open, please, quick-fuck-fuck-fuhhh!"

All it took was the brush of your little tongue against the backside of his leaking head before he lost it. He moaned loudly, surprising even himself as he squeezed his cock, aiming the shots of spend over your tongue, coating your mouth in a layer of white. Marc couldn’t imagine a better view than you looking up at him with your mouth wide open as he fed you every last drop he had. 

You came the very second you tasted his cum on your tongue. The delicious hot ropes ran down your throat while you took what he gave you, and you rubbed your clit faster, feeling yourself go weak over his taste. A series of choking gasps were lost in the living room while you felt your cunt contracting around nothing, your hot arousal gushing and dripping down your thighs.

In your mind-numbed state you couldn’t hold your body up anymore and so you fell to the ground in a heap, breathing heavily and letting the soothing warmth of your intoxication wash over you. 

“Someone had too much to drink,” Marc commented with a soft chuckle, tucking his dick back in his pants before lifting you into his arms with a contented sigh.

His heart leapt with a sense of joy and love for you when you held onto him, tucking your face into his broad chest and nuzzling against him. You murmured something nonsensical and unintelligible, inspiring another laugh out of Marc. He wished with all his heart that this was the first of many nights that you would start to warm up to them; that you were finally accepting your place and finding peace with your fate.

He hoped so deeply that it was true. He needed it to be true.

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter (Coming Soon)

Moon Knight Masterlist

[findroleplay]

🕊21F writer, yearning for some darker themes and detailed adv.lit—novella rp. Currently interested in exploring incest/stepcest/taboo themes (brother/sister or stepcest/half-siblings) & strongly favouring dead dove: do not eat + dark romance themes. For a fantasy setting, I'd want to explore nobles or royalty as the main characters. For a modern-day setting, I'd prefer rich kid ocs & aristocratic vibes.

Platform: discord.

Type: novella(multi-para, multi-message). oc x oc, fandomless rp. MxF pairing.

Hello !! 21F writer here who is itching for a very specific kind of dark rp as I've recently garnered an interest in very taboo & forbidden relationships, specifically incestual/stepcest themes. In terms of dark romance, I'd love to have themes like obsessions/possessiveness, power imbalances & codependancy/corruption play a huge part in the character's decision to pursue one another, plus dwindling sanity, and the festering of immoral desire. I don't condone such themes outside of writing, but I've recently found the idea of incest interesting in a purely literary way, so I would like to find a fellow detailed/seasoned/interested writer who may be willing to explore the theme of incest in an rp and the dramatic psychological reasoning behind the characters engaging in it, while there is also a darker background plot to spur things forward and create a very twisted atmosphere...

Fine with a modern or fantasy setting. I'd just like for the characters to belong to powerful families in their hierarchy, with high potential for scandal, mindgames/manipulation, isolation, and corruption aspects to be in place, plus unhinged actions and dark morality as as secondary themes. I really want to write about the obsession&possessiveness that plagues the characters as they embark into a dark relationship- their persistence, secrecy, the way they'll lash out at the slightest idea of the other wanting an out, the hot&heavy ideas of knives or guns at the others' throats, fierce arguing to wild kissing, sneaking around and threats to reveal the others dark secrets, killing people for the sake of their love, insanity, and debauchery unleashed ...

Note: I'm a detailed writer, and avid brainstormer who would love to rp alongside an 18+ partner very into the collaborative aspect of rp– this includes engaging in in-depth planning before rp begins and during rp stages, headcanons, oc-developing, pinboards, side-threads such as text threads or semi-lit threads, playlists, and other interactive aspects. Thus, I operate on a equal-effort system, this means if i'm sending multiple messages worth of planning and hcs, I expect the same back and similarly, if you offer me this– I will provide both the same enthusiasm, feedback and similar effort :).

Dub-con/non-con aspects are welcome. Gore is also fine. Other smut/nsfw/kink aspects can be discussed in dms. My one limit is that I do not enjoy large age gaps.

(Final note: I only write female characters, and so, I'd love to find a partner (preferably another female writer due to former past experiences; cis-het men dni) to take up the M role in this rp.)

Like/interact with this post if interested!

-

[findyourrp]

🕊21F writer, yearning for some darker themes and detailed adv.lit—novella rp. Currently interested in exploring incest/stepcest/taboo themes (brother/sister or stepcest/half-siblings) & strongly favouring dead dove: do not eat + dark romance themes. For a fantasy setting, I'd want to explore nobles or royalty as the main characters. For a modern-day setting, I'd prefer rich kid ocs & aristocratic vibes.

Platform: discord.

Type: novella(multi-para, multi-message). oc x oc, fandomless rp. MxF pairing.

Hello !! 21F writer here who is itching for a very specific kind of dark rp as I've recently garnered an interest in very taboo & forbidden relationships, specifically incestual/stepcest themes. In terms of dark romance, I'd love to have themes like obsessions/possessiveness, power imbalances & codependancy/corruption play a huge part in the character's decision to pursue one another, plus dwindling sanity, and the festering of immoral desire. I don't condone such themes outside of writing, but I've recently found the idea of incest interesting in a purely literary way, so I would like to find a fellow detailed/seasoned/interested writer who may be willing to explore the theme of incest in an rp and the dramatic psychological reasoning behind the characters engaging in it, while there is also a darker background plot to spur things forward and create a very twisted atmosphere...

Fine with a modern or fantasy setting. I'd just like for the characters to belong to powerful families in their hierarchy, with high potential for scandal, mindgames/manipulation, isolation, and corruption aspects to be in place, plus unhinged actions and dark morality as as secondary themes. I really want to write about the obsession&possessiveness that plagues the characters as they embark into a dark relationship- their persistence, secrecy, the way they'll lash out at the slightest idea of the other wanting an out, the hot&heavy ideas of knives or guns at the others' throats, fierce arguing to wild kissing, sneaking around and threats to reveal the others dark secrets, killing people for the sake of their love, insanity, and debauchery unleashed ...

Note: I'm a detailed writer, and avid brainstormer who would love to rp alongside an 18+ partner very into the collaborative aspect of rp– this includes engaging in in-depth planning before rp begins and during rp stages, headcanons, oc-developing, pinboards, side-threads such as text threads or semi-lit threads, playlists, and other interactive aspects. Thus, I operate on a equal-effort system, this means if i'm sending multiple messages worth of planning and hcs, I expect the same back and similarly, if you offer me this– I will provide both the same enthusiasm, feedback and similar effort :).

Dub-con/non-con aspects are welcome. Gore is also fine. Other smut/nsfw/kink aspects can be discussed in dms. My one limit is that I do not enjoy large age gaps.

(Final note: I only write female characters, and so, I'd love to find a partner (preferably another female writer due to former past experiences; cis-het men dni) to take up the M role in this rp.)

Like/interact with this post if interested!

.

[darkdoverpseeker]

Summary:

🕊 18+ F writer, yearning for some darker themes and detailed adv.lit–novella rps. Seeking MxF pairing. Mains as female characters. Interested in dark romance. Favours dead dove: do not eat. Genre preferences include: twisted fantasy, dark academia, crime & mystery, messed-up slice of life, taboo, gothic & supernatural horror genres mingled with dark romance. Preference for 70/30 or 60/40 story & smut split. Fine with questionable kinks & rougher scenarios (including dubcon, and noncon and age gaps). Enjoys philosophical & psychological explorations & character/ship explorations.

PLATFORM preference: discord.

Detailed:

✨️Hello everyone! I've currently regained an interest in a couple of old plots, character dynamics & themes that I never got the chance to write and would like to revisit and write now. These plots span from settings surrounding the historical fantasy genres to those entrenched within the modern day with dark academic or supernatural themes, twisted slice of life, crime & mystery, or (gothic) horror. In terms of the themes that I favour and that are present within the type of plots that I wish to explore... these themes surround *obsessive love*, yanderes, power imbalances, use of force, codependency, questionable actions, power-hunger, personal growth, emotional manipulation, transgression, getting 'worse' because of the other, insanity, revenge, fixations, self-destruction, and many more. To summarise, the dynamics that I wish to write are not for the faint-hearted nor are they recommended for those who enjoy softie pairings, but if you enjoy rps with darker ocs and scenarios, alongside unhinged actions and steady descents into dead dove darkness 'romance' then I am your girl :).

Furthermore, I would love to find a partner that's willing to engage in lots of brainstorming, the kind who will world & plot build with me and enjoys engaging in things like hcs & drabbles, analysis, and rambling... I don't just want to write with you, I also want to fangirl over our characters and ideas and maybe even become friends if we click! I'd really like for a detailed writing partner and someone into lengthy headcanoning, detailed discussions about characters&themes, mapping development in ooc, and thoroughly planning things before the rp starts, and after. As a novella (multi-para, multi-message), I do provide slow rp replies but I'm very fast with and very into ooc chatter and thinking about philosophical and psychological aspects of the rp, I like throwing out headcanons and making pinboards, I can provide very lengthy answers and brainstorming and my actual rp replies can span to +4 messages.

Be enthusiastic, have ideas, and provide input on the things that I suggest. Don't be dry and we'll get along really well. My policy is that I will put 100% into an rp, so long as my partner attempts to do the same.

Finally, like this post and I'll dm you.

(Note: I only write female characters and so, I'd love to find a partner of any gender (though, i hold a strong preference for other female/non-male writers) to take up the M role in this rp.)

like if interested!

[tiffanytoms]

As someone who bounces between the Dramione and Jily fandoms depending on my mood, the moral outrage against dark James doesn't make a lot of sense to me. So so much of Dramione fanfiction centres around the kind of dynamics dark James stories have been playing with. One of the most interesting things about dark romance for me is the exploration of female sexuality under patriarchy. It is the dark underbelly of heterosexuality that for women who fancy men oppression will in some shape or form, big or small, play a role in their relationships. Exploring unbalanced or toxic dynamics safely in fantasy and fiction is not a morally reprehensible thing to do. (it is also incredibly common and popular just have a gander into the Dramione fandom) Jily has my heart for being the superior couple in every way, they are my safe character and their fight against darkness is a pivotal element of that. But I can't help it if every now and then I crave the depraved.

I do understand why people were upset and I feel for them. The spread of dark James through the fandom and the polarity it has gained must be alarming for those who don't like it and aren't used to seeing it in a space they considered safe. However, this is the big bad internet and this is fanfiction a wild and lawless land (at least in my eyes... maybe I'm doing it wrong) and your response of correct tagging, trigger warnings and the "don't like, don't read" policy are all you can do! dead dove do not eat!

Fanfiction is fiction, a place for creativity and the freedom to explore anything and everything, and you write some of the best never stop.

(a stream of consciousness that may not even be relevant, feel free to ignore xx)

You guys are all so much more eloquent than me. These are great points.

[apparentlynotreallyfinnish]

oh gosh, idk if anon wanted you to write damnyell and link or not but if you did I would personally die.

Damnyell x Link (Part 1 / 2, The Fluffy Part)

Link was hunched over his desk. The office was dimly lit, only a lonely desk lamp gave the air a flickering yellow hue. Link kept glancing at the light. He should just change the bulb but the cheapskate in him wanted to use it till it popped on its own.  So, the light kept flickering and Link kept looking at it.

It was late. Way too late to be at the office if you asked anyone else but it wasn’t like Link was in a hurry to get back to his empty bachelor pad. What would he do there? Probably just more work. So, it didn’t really matter. And it was nice and quiet here at this hour. He could usually concentrate better when everyone else had left.

Tonight seemed to be an exception. He just kept looking at that goddamn flickering light.

“Good evening,” a soft voice suddenly sounded from behind him. Link jumped in his seat and cursed out loud. He turned, looking wide eyed at the man standing there.

“Damnyell,” Link sighed when he recognized the figure. He was standing a few feet from Link, hidden by the shadows, but the shaggy hair and the slightly hunched posture were dead giveaways. It was not surprising that Link hadn’t heard him come in; he was always so silent. There was something almost magical about how he moved.

When Damnyell first appeared at the offices everyone had been as surprised as he himself was. One day he was just there. The crew got used to him pretty quickly. He was often seen skulking around the set and periodically sneaking into the kitchen. Josh had gotten into the habit of leaving him stuff to eat. Some days it was leftovers from the few good foods he got to make for the show and other times he just cooked something nice for Damnyell to try. Damnyell seemed to appreciate his efforts and kept leaving Josh little presents. Drawings of wonderfully weird things and little wooden statues he somehow was able to make even though no one knew where he got the wood from. Josh proudly displayed all of them on his desk. 

Damnyell had also taken a liking to Link early on and, after a short adjustment period, Link had grown very fond of him too. Their talks were always fun and different. It was kind of refreshing to talk to someone who didn’t obey the usual social conventions. You never knew what you were going to get with him. Link appreciated that Damnyell was never annoyed with his mood shifts or spontaneity. And when Link purposefully suspended his intelligence Damnyell seemed to almost revel in it.

Link still didn’t know where Damnyell had come from or even really what he was. Link had a vague feeling that Damnyell was maybe not a human at all. Link had asked about his origins, multiple times, and every time he got a different, ambiguous answer. He’d started to think that maybe Damnyell was some kind of a spirit or a being from an alternative universe. In any case, he was here now and it seemed that he was not about to go away anytime soon.

“Hello. Have I frightened you? You said a wicked word,” Damnyell stated,

“I’m sorry, Damnyell. Yes, I got a bit scared. Didn’t hear you coming in.”

“It’s okay. Sometimes I like to say wicked words too.”

“Really? Like what?” Link was suddenly intrigued. He’d never heard him curse before.

“Oh, I don’t feel like saying them right now,” Damnyell said and glided into the light. Link lifted his gaze to look him in the eyes. Something warm sloshed in his belly. No one looked at him like Damnyell did.

“It’s quiet,” Damnyell remarked. Link nodded.

“We’re the only ones here.”

“And Richard.”

“Yes, obviously. Richard,” Link said, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“He’s sleeping,” Damnyell said and stepped closer. He towered over Link. Link had to crane his neck to look at him from his sitting position.

“Is he now?”

“Yes.”

“Why aren’t you?” Link asked. He had no idea where this conversation was heading. Not that that was unusual with Damnyell. After their talks, Link was often left feeling confused and strangely exhilarated. 

“I saw your light. It’s dancing.”

“Yeah. I should change the bulb,” Link said, glancing at the lamp.

“Do you want to dance?” 

“What?” Link’s head whipped back to Damnyell. He was smiling that ethereal smile of his. His head was tilted a bit and he looked like an excited puppy.

“Like in general or now?” Link asked – just in case, you never knew with Damnyell.

“Now. With me.”

“Oh. Um… okay.” Why the heck not? Link got up from his chair. Damnyell stood so close to him that he basically rose right against the taller man. The warmth in Link’s stomach solidified.

“Should we put on some music?” Link asked as the warmth raced up and flooded his neck and cheeks. They were so close, he could feel the body heat radiating off of the other man. If Link lifted his hands he could place them on his chest. All of a sudden, that was all he wanted to do. To touch him. 

I wonder what he’d do if I kissed him? The thought was new and a bit scary. Was it the low light and the intimacy of being alone at the office what made him think that? Or had he always kind of wondered? Link sucked the edge of his lip between his teeth and waited. Damnyell’s head tilted the other way as he asked,  “Don’t you like this music?”

Link crooked an eyebrow at him. There was no music playing in the office. The man really had a vivid imagination. Link was trying to decide whether to go with the fantasy or say something to correct him when suddenly, he heard it too. It was so faint – probably coming from somewhere outside. Link could barely hear it. But it really was there; a gloomy little jazzy piece with some kind of brass instrument and piano. It was slow and peculiar. Link turned, leaned over his desk and cracked the window open. The notes became instantly clearer. Damnyell smiled at him.

“I like this one.”

“Me too,” Link said with a soft smile.

His hips had started to sway slightly in rhythm with the music. Sometimes his body reacted like that, moving without his conscious prompting. Damnyell’s head followed Link’s movements like he was a snake and Link his charmer. He looked transfixed. His gaze was different than usual, still warm but more present somehow. 

Link swallowed. The air in the room was changing. He felt like they were slipping into a dream. Link’s brain felt hazy and his movements were slow and overly deliberate. Link’s hands rose in front of his face and twined together as his hips moved in wider circles. His eyes closed for a moment and he let the music take him over.

When he opened his eyes, he noticed that Damnyell’s hands hovered over his hips. Link lowered his own hands so he could look at him. Damnyell’s gaze flashed to Link’s eyes, as if asking for permission. Link took his hands in his own and pressed them firmly on his hips. His hands travelled up Damnyell’s arms and wrapped around his shoulders. They stood only slightly apart and every roll of Link’s hips brought them closer together.

The music was melancholy but Link felt anything but. They danced the slowest of slow dances; their feet barely moving as they swayed in tandem. Damnyell was not moving as fluidly as Link, but when Link’s body finally pressed fully against him, his hips moved with Link’s, finding a rhythm that suited them both. Link pressed his cheek against Damnyell’s solid chest and closed his eyes. Damnyell’s shirt was soft against his cheek and he smelled like a summer night, crisp and sweet. Link was glad he could hold onto the taller man as he suddenly felt light-headed.

“You move like the water,” Damnyell murmured. A puff of air escaped out of Link’s nose. He decided to take that as a compliment.

“I like the way you move too,” Link said. He could hear Damnyell’s heartbeat quickening. Link smiled against him. His fingers found their way into Damnyell’s neck and gently brushed the sensitive skin just below his hairline making him sigh. A small sound followed the sigh. It came deep from his throat. It was almost like a purr.

“Richard is still sleeping,” he whispered. Link moved his head and pressed his chin against Damnyell’s chest so that he could look up at him. He had no idea what to say to that.

“Oh?” he finally just said.

“I would like you to kiss me now.” Damnyell was looking down at him, eyes dark and twinkly.

Link’s stomach turned into a furnace and tingles ran all over his body. He licked his lips and stood on his tiptoes. Damnyell leaned down and their lips touched. It was the lightest of kisses. Like wings of sprites had touched upon Link’s lips. They stood still, lips barely touching, breathing each other in. Link felt thoroughly intoxicated. Damnyell’s tongue slipped out of his mouth and gently licked Link’s bottom lip.

“You taste like the sea too. Are you a merman?”

Link couldn’t stop the laugh that burst out of him. He’d been eating salted peanuts a little while ago; he probably still tasted a bit salty. Damnyell laughed with him.

“Maybe,” Link said as their laughter slowly died. He wasn’t sure of anything anymore. The world had tilted when their bodies came together.

“Kiss me again, merman,” Damnyell said, voice low and throaty. Link obeyed eagerly. Their lips met with more pressure now and Link opened up for Damnyell to explore in his mouth. His hands moved from Link’s hips to wrap around his back. One of his hands slipped under Link’s shirt and caressed the skin on his back in slow, ever-increasing circles. Link trembled in his arms. Damnyell tilted his head away enough to be able to speak against Link’s parted lips.

“You shiver. Do you need me to warm you?” There was an edge of mirth in his voice.

“Yes, please. Please, Damnyell warm me,” Link pleaded breathlessly and dove for another kiss.

[ofteasandherbs]

Gotta be honest, your response about shipping aro/ace characters really rings of purity culture to me. The statement that this fic, this ship is morally wrong; it isn't enough that it's tagged appropriately, that it says "dead dove, do not eat." It is BAD and therefore should not exist.

This kind of attitude is stifling for writers of aro/ace characters. It says that aro/ace must be one thing all the time, and that deviating revokes that identity. And that attitude is harmful to actual aro/ace people.

Fandom is the realm of fantasy. Aro/ace people can fantasize about sex. We can fantasize about relationships. We can experiment. We can change. I would rather read fics where Cad is an actual character with depth and struggles and nuance, and it gets shippy or steamy or porny, than all these fics where Cad is this stagnant caricature who just makes tea. It's not either/or, many people out there are writing really good, complex aro/ace stuff. My point is, are fics where Cad's personality and agency are stripped really any better than ones that modify his sexuality and romantic identity? Why is one permissible and the other not?

Fans are not the ones in charge of aro/ace representation. They are singular people trying to make light in a dark world. And sometimes, that is squick to me. But I don't have to engage with it.

If someone says that Caduceus shouldn't be aro/ace, or that aro/ace identities aren't real or valid, I'll be right there fighting it with you, shoulder to shoulder. But fandom has got to be a place of live and let live. Otherwise, it dies.

Sorry to do this anonymously. It hits a little too close to home for me. And maybe if I saw the specific thing you're referencing, I'd feel the same way you do. I just think it's a slippery slope.

Love your art, love your blog.

Okay, let me be rambly here sorry if I don’t hit all the points, it’s been a bit of day. Also thank you much for the compliment, I hope this long ramble helps clear up stuff…

So I’m not trying to ring that purity culture at all! Really I think people should feel free to explore aroace identities in their fullest potential! Where that post came from was from a friend who got attack basically for an hour on discord for asking that characters canon identities be kept like they are. It wasn’t a fic, or anything like that, if that was the question(??? Aaa I hope I’m sayin this right)

Cad is an interesting character and I agree! I wish people would in fact explore him in fics and not just have him as a tea/therapy bot. But I hope writers and people get that you can do that while still keeping a very important part of their identity true! To the extent of wrtiting an aroace character in a relationship, it needs to be handled with care. There are a lot of aros and aces and aroaces in relationships! And that’s fine! But to some, it’s triggering to have a character that is seen as specifically aroace in canon and has shown no interest in romantic or sexual relationships to then have that erased for a ship/fic/art if you get me?

Aroace identities are important to those who are in that community and when we get a character that is so different from the usual rep it’s a cause for celebration! Cad is filled with so much love as a personality trait and it’s amazing!! It shows that love doesn’t need to be romantic always! It shows that there are aces who are not cold hearted. But to see people still want to put him in relationships (especially sexual ones) without explaining, say, that it’s a queer platonic relationship, it becomes a bit of a big ole red flag. Cause at that point, we don’t know if that work was made with the best of intentions, ie keeping true to a canon identity.

It’s a bit like wayyyyyy back when people shipped beau and molly as a romantic and sexual relationship. That seems odd right? As molly is genderfluid but mainly identifies as male and Beau is a lesbian. We don’t want to erase her identity all for a ship someone finds might result in a deeper analysis of their character.

To end this long ramble, and hopefully it has helped to see why I was pissed, yes I want to see cad get explored. But I don’t want it at the expense of his identity getting erased. Not when there are many alternatives already out there to do so. Not when it causes harm to the aroaces who get triggered when their character they identify with gets their identity ignored, much like they do in real life. Fandom should be a place for them to escape to as well.